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THREE:"Avast there! Master Tyler," said Wells, shaking off the grip of the smith; "I know no more of Lancaster than yourself: I told you this morning he was on the borders��and so, how, in the name of all the saints, could he be here?��but I tell ye, there are some here who would rather lay hand upon John of Gaunt's gold than upon John of Gaunt's body!"A shriek from the women who had clustered around the treasurer, made matters worse; for, attracted by the noise, the chapel was instantly filled with armed men.

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THREE:Then suddenly an honour fell on Odiam. The War Office itself sent it a telegram. But the honour was taken sadly, for the telegram announced that Sergeant David Backfield had been killed in action at Laing's Nek.But the strange thing was that he could not sleep, and stranger still, it was not the ache of his body that kept him awake, but the ache of his heart. Reuben was used to curling up and going to sleep like a little dog; only once had he lain awake at night, and that was with the toothache. Now he had scarcely any pain; indeed, the dull bruised feeling made him only more drowsy, but in his heart was something that made him tumble and toss, just as the aching tooth had done, made him want to snarl and bite. He rolled over and over in the straw, and was wide awake when they came to Rye. Neither did he sleep at all in the room where he and some other boys were locked for the night. The Battery gaol was full of adult rioters, so the youthful element��only some half-dozen captured��was shut up in the constable's house, where it played marbles and twisted arms till daylight.

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THREE:"But who may you be, stranger, who thus interest yourself for the injured?" asked the monk, "or why this disguise?"

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THREE:"But you're so vulgar!"He compared his present feelings with the miserable humiliation he had endured in '65. Queer!��that election seemed almost as real and vivid to him as this one, and��he did not know why��he found himself feeling as if it were more important. His mind recaptured the details with startling clearness��the crowd in the market-place, the fight with Coalbran, the sheep's entrails that were flung about ... and suddenly, sitting there in his arm-chair, he found himself muttering: "that hemmed g?ate!"

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