"I have never stuck up for him," he began; "but give even him his due! What possible object could a man have in burning down his own church?"
"What I asked the governor," replied the barman. "'Dog in the manger,' he say; 'didn't want the next man to reap where he've sowed. What's more, that give him an excuse for stoppun in the place,' he say."
Carlton was under no temptation to confute these arguments; his only difficulty was to suppress a smile.
"So his people don't think any the better of him for getting himself off, eh?"
"The better? That's made them right mad! The governor here, he say that was the gift of the gab and nothun else; all parsons have their fair share; but this here reverend, he do seem to be a holy terror, an' no mistake. A gentleman like Sir Wilton Gleed haven't a chance agen him; so they're all a-sayun, all but Sir Wilton himself. The young gent who was in here this afternoon, he was a-sayun as how the squire wouldn't have the reverend's name so much as spoken at the hall; and he's never been heard to name it himself since the day of the trial, he's that mad. But have you heard the latest?"
Carlton had heard quite enough, and his hand was on the latch, nor did he withdraw it as he turned his head.
"Against the reverend?" inquired he.
"That's it," said the young barman with renewed gusto. "And I nearly let you go without tellun you!"
"What has he been doing now?"
Carlton was curious to hear.