On the second day, therefore, he rode out (the frost still holding,
though the sun was clear and warm), and turned southwards through the
village for the Dethick road, towards the place in which he had
appointed to meet Anthony. At the entrance to the village he passed the
minister, Mr. Barton, coming out of his house, that had been the
priest's lodging, a middle-aged man, made a minister under the new
Prayer-Book, and therefore, no priest as were some of the ministers
about, who had been made priests under Mary. He was a solid man, of no
great wit or learning, but there was not an ounce of harm in him. (They
were fortunate, indeed, to have such a minister; since many parishes had
but laymen to read the services; and in one, not twenty miles away, the
squire's falconer held the living.) Mr. Barton was in his sad-coloured
cloak and round cap, and saluted Robin heartily in his loud, bellowing
voice.
"Riding abroad again," he cried, "on some secret errand!"
"I will give your respects to Mr. Babington," said Robin, smiling
heavily. "I am to meet him about a matter of a tithe too!"
"Ah! you Papists would starve us altogether if you could," roared the
minister, who wished no better than to be at peace with his neighbours,
and was all for liberty.
"You will get your tithe safe enough--one of you, at least," said Robin.
"It is but a matter as to who shall pay it."
He waved good-day to the minister and set his horse to the Dethick
track.
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