It was raining when Karolina, Hubert, Marta and Oskar arrived in front of Grandpa Francis' huge house. It was almost midnight, and a mist was drifting around the great hill, through which the torchlight looked like a luminous tunnel. The inside of the house smelled of dust and old wood, and the floor creaked under every step. - Did you hear that? - whispered Marta, standing in the middle of the living room. It seemed to everyone that from under the boards came the quiet, irregular ticking of a dozen clocks at once. Hubert, fascinated, crouched down and put his ear to the floor. - There really is something here! - he said excitedly. Oskar lifted a piece of old carpet, revealing a small flap. - Maybe we shouldn't... - Karolina started, but Hubert was already opening the hatch. Underneath were steps leading downwards, where the glass of the old clock faces glinted in the gloom. With each step they took, the ticking became louder and more disturbing, as if the clocks knew they had visitors. Suddenly, one of the clocks rang particularly loudly. All the hands on the dials began to move rapidly and the world around them grew quiet, as if it had stopped breathing. The friends looked at each other with concern and fascination, when all at once the walls of the cellar began to tremble and a mysterious, low melody came from behind them.... No one knew what would happen next.