Accordingly they inspected the building.
When they came round to the chancel, suddenly there was a rattle, and a tremendous rush of some huge thing that made a cold wind, and blew out the light.
Henry was appalled, and Cheetham dropped the lantern, and ran, yelling.
And soon Henry heard his voice in the churchyard calling on him to come out.
He did go out, and felt very much puzzled and alarmed.

However, he got matches from Cheetham, and went back, and lighted the lantern, quaking a little, and then he found that the great moldering picture over the altar had rotted away from some of its supports, and one half of it was now drooping, like a monstrous wing, over the altar.
He returned with the lantern, and told Cheetham what it was.

Then he screwed on the lock, locked the church, and they went back to Hillsborough in good spirits.
But, as he lay in bed, Henry thought the matter over, and, for the first time in his life, felt superstitious.
"It is very odd," he said, "that old picture my forefathers have worshiped under, and prayed to, no doubt, should flap out in my face like that, the moment I offered to set up my forge among their dead bones." Daylight dispersed these superstitious feelings, and the battle began.
As usual, the first step toward making money was to part with it.

He could do nothing without a horse and a light cart.

In Hillsborough they drive magnificent horses in public cabs: Henry knew one in particular, that had often spun up the steepest hills with him; a brute of prodigious bone and spirit.