"That's not what he've been doün, but what keep comun o' what he've done," his informant said ominously. "The latest is that some young chap would go to the devil because the reverend had, so he 'listed, and he've been in the very battle there's all this to-do about!"
Of Mellis's enlistment Carlton had heard; the rest was news indeed; and his hand tightened on the latch.
"Has anything happened to him, then?" he faltered, sick at heart.
"Not as we know on yet," said the stout youth, hopefully. "But the lists ain't in, and, if this young chap's killed, everybody says it'll be another death at the reverend's door."
"So they want his blood!" exclaimed Carlton. "But what they say is true."
As he opened the door a burst of cheering came round from the barn.
"That's for the squire," he left the barman saying. "He've been on his legs these ten minutes."
The outcast had shut the door behind him, and was groping his way in a darkness no deeper than before, though perfectly opaque after the strong light within.
"And one cheer more!" screamed a voice from the barn.
Carlton need scarcely have left his rectory to have heard the final roar. Yet it was not the end.