"That's his room," whispered one at last; "that—where the light is!"
It was the voice of the schoolmaster, himself a churchwarden, and withal an honest creature who was merely as many things as possible to as many men. His part had been a little difficult lately. "This has simplified it," thought the rector; and the twinge of bitterness did him good.
He was a man again for one moment; the next, "He's in his room," cried another, aloud; "that's him standing at the window!"
And there burst forth a howl of execration, that rose to a yell as the delinquent disappeared and in his panic put out the light.
"You coward!"
"Ah, you skunk!"
"Bloody Papist!"
"Hypocrite!"
They were the better names; each shot his own, and capped the last; the schoolmaster, mad with excitement, blaspheming with the best.
"Come down out of that, ye devil!"