in the library, relit his pipe, and began to think about Doctor Syn.
So when Sunday morning broke, two more strange things had happened: Morgan Walters, for one thing, had disappeared, parson's clothes and all, and Doctor Syn, on going to the vicarage, discovered a new ugly gash in the plaster of the wall, and he felt indeed thankful that he had passed the night at the Court House.
The villagers had it announced to them at the morning service that, in order to undertake a great spiritual mission to the blacks, Doctor Syn was leaving Dymchurch that very night; leaving after evensong by fishing lugger which was timed to pick up a certain Spanish trader bound for Jamaica and sailing upon the next day from the port of Rye. So all that Sunday afternoon the villagers, with much sorrow in their hearts at the thought of losing their faithful shepherd and good friend, prepared great beacons along the coast sea-wall as far as Littlestone, in order to light and cheer their vicar on his lonely way at night.
