My first work was to go to the village sexton and get the church keys, so when I arrived at the village I enquired for his house. I discovered that he was a bachelor, and lived alone on the outskirts of the village. I quickly made my way thither, and, on arriving, found the door locked. Evidently he was out. On making further enquiries, I found that he had that day gone to the nearest market town, and probably would not be home until dark. It was now about noon, and, faint and hungry, I found my way to the village alehouse, where, after having had something to eat, I tried to think. Since yesterday, I had lived a lifetime. Yesterday at that time I had not arrived home, I had not seen Bill Tregargus, I knew nothing of what had occurred. Now I was branded with the brand of a murderer. The wild deeds I had done when I sailed the seas as a pirate scarcely weighed on my conscience at all; but this deed, though I did not repent, and though my hatred remained unabated, made life unendurable. Hour after hour I sat in the parlour of the village inn, thinking, wondering and fearing. Would the landlord be so obliging, I wondered, if he knew what I had done; would he not loathe my presence, and deliver me to the justice of man? Yet who are the murderers of the world? Are they to be found among those only who do actual murder, or are murderers a class of people who are capable of murder? Is not every man who is not filled with Divine love capable of murder, and are not many free from the stain of murderous deeds merely because they have never been provoked, tempted? Who shall judge as to who are real murderers? None but God alone! Night drew on at length, and full of the thought which became dearer each hour, I found again my way to the sexton's house. This time he was at home. He stared at me in astonishment when I told him what I wanted. "Want to go in th' oul church after dark!" he said. "You must be mazed." "Why?" "Why! You cudden git more'n two people in the parish to do it. Me and the passen be the only two that be'ant afraid." "But I don't want you to go with me," I said. "I simply want you to lend me the keys, and I'll bring them back to you again." "And you we'ant want me to go in the churchyard nuther?" "No." "I must'n do it," he said. "The passen 'ud give me the sack straight off ef 'ee was to knaw it." "No one need know," I said. For a long time he held out. I could see that he would willingly have let me enter the church at daylight, and would himself have gone with me; but at night he was afraid to do so, and was also afraid to let me have the keys. "I ca'ant 'ford to lose my place," he said; "not that the burryin' es wuth much. I ain't a berried a livin' soul for a long time, so times es bad in that way; but I git a goodish bit for clainin' the church." "How much do you get a year?" "I make so much as ten shillen a week oal the year round," he said. "I do'ant knaw how much that es a year."