All the same, I found pleasure in it, and I remember humming a tune as I dressed.
Directly after breakfast, Simpson put the morning paper before me. Mechanically I opened it, and turned to the list of casualties. My heart sank as I read, for I found the names of three men who had gone from St. Issey among the list of killed.
"Are you going out, sir?" And Simpson looked at me anxiously.
"Yes," I replied, "I am going to the village. I see that Mrs. Searle's boy is killed."
"You are sure you are well enough, sir?"
"Quite," I replied. "By the way, Simpson, you have that paper I gave you last night?"
"Yes, sir; I locked it away carefully, and I understand what you said, but I don't understand what you mean, sir. Are you afraid that——"
"That's all right, Simpson; be sure not to forget my instructions."
A little later, I found myself at Mrs. Searle's door, and on finding it open, I entered. A second later, I blamed myself for the liberty I had taken. It is not uncommon for these simple folk to enter each other's houses without giving notice in any way, and I had fallen in with the habit of the people. But I should have known better. Mr. and Mrs. Searle were both on their knees praying, and there was an expression on each of their faces which I shall not try to describe. Sorrow, pain, even anguish, were expressed there, but beyond all this was an unutterable peace. I suppose I must have made a slight noise, for they opened their eyes at my approach and rose to their feet.
"Have 'ee 'eerd the news, Mr. Erskine?" It was Mr. Searle who spoke.