Chapter 7. Doctor Syn Undertakes An Amazing Quest

It was obvious that the fisherman, preoccupied with his own business, had not noticed the horrible situation upon the beach. He appeared to be searching for something in the bottom of his boat. He picked up an old tin and looked inside it, then dropped it with a clatter and an oath. He then grasped a heavy sweep oar, and thrusting it out over the stern, he propelled the boat towards the beach. As the keel ground into the sand, he swung himself over the side. He was a little man wearing enormous sea-boots. He leaned over the side and picked up the tin he had dropped and a spade. Then he came wading ashore.

'Stay were you are a minute,' ordered Curlew, and the prisoners felt the barrels of the pistols leave their necks. The fisherman was being covered. 'Who are you, and what do you want?' asked Curlew.

'Well now, you look like the devil himself,' replied the fisherman. 'I take it, though, that you're one of the Scarecrow's men. I'm ashore to dig lug, I am, and I'se none other than Mister Mipps, sexton of Dymchurch, and gracious goodness what in the world are you doing of to my vicar and the little gentleman from Wales?'

'Scarecrow's justice,' replied Curlew, 'and let me warn you not to meddle in his business.'

'I don't want to muck about with his business,' replied Mipps, 'but before we knows where we are, the good vicar will be drowned.'

'That is the Scarecrow's idea, sexton,' replied Curlew.

'Well, it ain't a very nice idea, now, is it?'

'You hurry along with your lug-digging and get back to your boat,' ordered Curlew.

'I'd a deal sooner dig for the vicar than lug,' replied Mipps. 'But I expects the moment I started doing any such thing, you'll be letting off them barkers at me. Is that it?'

'That's about the size of it, Mister Sexton,' returned Curlew.

'And being so close,' mused Mipps, 'it strikes me as you could hardly miss.

But what has the poor vicar done to the Scarecrow?'

'Preached against him, and spied on him,' was the curt answer.

'What a pity,' sighed Mipps. 'Well, there's nothing for it, then, but for me to get my lug and back to the old boat. The water's already in the Welsh gentleman's mouth, and though an undertaker and sexton myself, this here funeral ain't to my liking for once. I'll wash out my tin and then go up the beach for the lug.'

'Don't you want low tide for lug?' asked Curlew. 'Sure you ain't using lug as an excuse to poke your long nose into the Scarecrow's business? If so watch out for trouble.'

'I knows lug I does,' replied Mipps, 'and I'll have no Scarecrow's man teaching me about the ways of the little fellows. Also I ain't poking my nose into no danger. With all respects to the vicar, I enjoys life too well.' As he spoke he leaned down and rinsed out his tin with his left hand, holding the spade over his shoulder with his right.

'Then I advise you to go on enjoying it,' warned Curlew.

'Leave us, my good Mipps,' ordered Doctor Syn. 'You can do no good, though I know you would wish it otherwise. But I would spare you the pain of seeing me die. Go!'

What the prisoners saw then was unexpected. Mipps was crouching down and washing the tin, when he suddenly let it go and grasped his spade handle with both hands. Round came the blade in a circular up-bound sweep. There was a crash of metal meeting metal, and a loud explosion, but by then Mipps had leapt over the prisoners' heads with a mighty splash and had closed with Curlew. They heard the sound of heavy breathing as the two men fought behind their heads for the possession of the second pistol. A second explosion told them this was discharged and with no harm to their rescuer, for they heard him cry out, 'Wasting good bullets in the air what should have been in your devil's innards.'

'Look out, Mipps,' warned Doctor Syn. 'He has a third pistol somewhere upon him.'

'I've got it, sir, and him too,' came the reassuring answer. 'Now then, get on that horse quick! I'll not risk your help, for I'd rather see the back of you, and I've a pistol here only waiting your return, for I see you've no holsters at your saddle.' Mipps raised his voice and shouted after the fleeing Curlew, 'Told you I enjoyed life! I does!' Back came Mipps into the prisoners' sight, with a 'He's gone, and now to get you out!'

'Our ankles are tied to the posts, as well as our bodies and wrists,' said Doctor Syn. 'You'll have to cut the cords with your sheath knife which I thank God you are wearing. You'll find trouble digging down so far in the wet sand.

Hurry!'

'Sand's soft enough round these posts,' said Mipps, drawing his knife and plunging it down behind the post that held the vicar. 'No trouble, sir, to one who's caught lug all his life. I'd chase an escaping lug from Dymchurch sands to molten seas of hell, but I'd get him.'

'Don't talk! Don't talk!' cried the Welshman. 'Get me out, man, I'm drowning!'

'Now, you keep your mouth shut, sir,' replied Mipps, 'and you won't do no such thing. Breathe through your nose, and keep calm. The vicar and me will get you out all in good time.'

'No, Mipps,' corrected Doctor Syn. 'Rescue Mr. Jones first, for, being shorter than I am, he is lower in the water.'

'Begging your pardon, sir,' went on Mipps, who was now laying full length in the water with his face half covered, in his frantic cutting of the lower cords.

'He's in no fit state to help me out with you, whereas you and me will soon hoist him, and bring him back to life. There's your ankle rope. Regular tethered! Thank God for a sharp knife and rope what's rotting in the wet! Stretch your feet, sir. That's it, sir. You're free. Now, sir, wriggle yourself round and climb up the pole as it were whiles I give you a hoist.' With the help of Mipps and his spade, and the firm leverage of the stout post, it did not take Doctor Syn long to drag himself from the wet sand and the water, during which operation the Welshman was spouting salt water from his mouth like a whale, much to the amusement of Mipps, who had never taken kindly to the stranger since the shooting episode in the vicarage study.

However, under the encouragement of the vicar, the little man worked with a will, and although wringing wet, bravely submerged himself, severing the cords with his knife. It was a good thing for the Welshman that there were two of them carrying out his rescue, for by this time he was too exhausted to be able to help himself.

Whether from too much salt water in his stomach, or too much fright in his heart, the poor little Welshman was unconscious when the vicar and sexton pulled him clear, but he soon recovered when Doctor Syn produced his brandy flask from his sand-filled pocket. Doctor Syn urged that they must hurry in case Curlew returned with others to carry out the Scarecrow's sentence, from which, thanks to Providence and Mister Mipps, they had so mercifully escaped.

Dragging the Welshman between them, they made as much haste as they could towards the village, keeping under cover of the sea-wall most of the way.

By the time they had reached the inn, they were a bedraggled-looking trio.

Mipps kept up a continuous sniffling, as a hint to the Welshman that some good liquor at his expense would not be amiss; the Welshman kept up a groaning and a whimpering, while Doctor Syn most piously continued to praise God for their deliverance. 'My good Mipps, it was Providence indeed that called you to go fishing this night. This gentleman and myself are indeed your debtors.' Mipps sniffed again, and remarked, 'A cold in the head ain't so bad when you knows you are going to a spot where they keeps a good drop of liquor. It will take more than was in your flask, vicar, to drive the salt out of us, I'm thinking.' At the Ship Inn Mrs. Waggetts, who was in the habit of sitting up very late when the revenue men were out, in case of business coming her way, made the unfortunate three very welcome, and while preparing hot punch for their comfort, she listened with great indignation to their terrible adventure.

The Welshman lost no time in getting drunk, and was helped up to his room by the vicar and Mipps.

It was not until they had searched under his bed at his request, in case one of the Scarecrow's men might be hiding there, and finally closed the door upon him and heard the key turn in the lock, that the two rascals, vicar and sexton, allowed themselves the pleasure of a grin.

'I think, my good Mipps,' whispered the vicar, 'that we has better repair to the vicarage. Mrs. Waggetts will certainly expect me to be weary, and believe me I have no great wish to recount our trying adventures to the revenue men, should any of them drop in for a night-cap before the dawn. I rather think that the poor fellows will be in need of what the “Ship” can give them. I think also that it is likely we shall receive a different visitor at the vicarage, and when we have driven the salt water from our stomachs with good brandy as you say, I rather anticipate that the three of us will indulge in a good laugh at the expense of our Welsh lawyer and some others who shall be nameless.' So bidding Mrs. Waggetts good night, they left the Ship Inn and walked to the vicarage. In the study they fastened shutters and doors.

'I think, sir,' remarked Mipps, as the vicar handed him a glass of brandy, 'that the planning of this adventure was a extreme. You put yourself in too uncomfortable positions, I think.'

'My good Mipps,' replied the vicar. 'Thanks to you, the adventure could not have been better. The Welshman is entirely deceived. Not only that, but his evidence at the inquiry will convince others that I was his companion in misfortune. He saw the Scarecrow rescue Jimmie Bone. He comes back to this room and finds me very convincingly asleep. In my company he is again faced with the Scarecrow—a different one it is true, but he has no notion of that.

Neither will it enter any of their heads that Jimmie Bone and Doctor Syn can put up such similar performances as the Scarecrow. No one will suspect that I was the first Scarecrow, or that Jimmie Bone was the second. But all will know tomorrow that the poor vicar was exceedingly badly treated by the Scarecrow, and there will be a great hue and cry after the scoundrel this time, I'm thinking.'

'Aye, sir,' nodded Mipps. 'He will not be riding the Marsh for some little time if he is wise.'

'He will not, my good Mipps.' Doctor Syn put up a warning finger, and whispered, 'A scratch on the outer shutter. Open the garden door. It will be Jimmie Bone.' Mipps admitted the highwayman, who reported that the cargoes had all been safely landed and carried on the pack-ponies to the hides. He further reported that the smugglers had suffered only one casualty apart from the horse that had been hit. A tub-carrier had got a stray bullet from a revenue man in his leg, but the bullet had been removed and there would have to be no questions from the inquisitive Doctor Pepper.

'And the casualties to the revenue men?' asked the vicar.

'One got a bullet in the arm,' replied the highwayman. 'One with a broken head who tried to stop the pack-ponies at Botolph's Bridge, and what is more serious, the Hythe revenue officer, who was in charge of my escort, was mysteriously hanged upon Dymchurch gallows. That will cause an outcry, but I think the greatest one will be over the treatment our dear vicar suffered at the hands of these miscreants.' and Jimmie Bone grinned as he drained a glassful of Doctor Syn's brandy.

'It is also pretty certain,' remarked Doctor Syn, 'that a hue and cry will go out for you. They will probably get the dragoons on that search, and I shall feel happier about you when I know you are out of the country for a time. Before the dawn breaks, you must be in the Scarecrow's hiding-place. Mother Handaway will see to your needs, and tomorrow night we will have you smuggled across the Channel. You can shelter on one of our French luggers, and I shall know where and how to communicate with you. Indeed, I rather think, my good friend, that before many moons I shall be sending for you to play a hand against a new adversary. When I have worked out my plans I will let you know. I can only tell you this, that I imagine it will be running the richest cargoes we have yet tackled.'

'But I thought it was agreed, sir,' put in Mipps, 'that the Scarecrow and his men must disappear for a time, and not ride the Marsh till all this has blown over?'

'That is so, Mipps,' returned the vicar. 'The Scarecrow and his Night-riders will disappear from the Marsh, and reappear a far cry from here, where they will ride to very good profit.'

'Wherever you send me,' said Jimmie Bone, 'I shall be waiting for your orders. And in order to do that I had best get into hiding now.'

'Mipps will go with you,' suggested Doctor Syn. 'Or, perhaps better, he will go out first and see if any of the revenue men are still out. I rather think you will find them at the “Ship”.'

'If Mipps will come as far as my horse,' said the highwayman, 'I shall be glad of a hoist in mounting, for my ankle is still bad. Once in the saddle it does not matter to me if the revenue men are on the prowl or no. They'll not catch me, and they'll not see how I enter the secret stable.'

'Well, have a care,' warned Doctor Syn, 'for to rescue you again would prove plaguey difficult, though we should have to manage it somehow.'

'Have no worry on that score, sir,' assured Bone. 'I will not be taken again, I promise you.'

'Then good night, my friends,' said Doctor Syn. 'You will receive the Scarecrow's orders tomorrow night, and Mister Mipps will report for parochial orders in the morning at nine. Good night. It has been a strenuous one so far for us all, and a little rest will do us good.' Doctor Syn fastened the door quietly behind them, lit his bedroom candle by the candelabrum, and having extinguished the other lights, he mounted the stairs to his room, where he took off his damp clothes and arrayed himself in a long nightshirt and a tall nightcap. The nightcap reminded him of a more comforting one, and his hand went out to a certain book on the shelf beside his four-post bed. Behind the book was a bottle of brandy.

He took a generous pull and replaced the bottle before climbing into bed.

Having snuffed out the candle, he sat huddled up gazing through the casement at the moon-bathed Marsh. Each field was framed in silvery dyke-water. Even the sheep huddled together as though afraid of the stillness. Presently, in the far distance, a little yellow light appeared, and then moved slowly. Doctor Syn knew what it was, and was glad. Mother Handaway had closed the door of the hidden stable, and was now lighting her way back to her hovel. He knew then that Jimmie Bone was safe. The light disappeared. Doctor Syn's hand once more groped for the bottle, and he silently toasted the Marsh that feared him by night and loved him by day. Back went the bottle behind the book; then, pulling the curtains of his bed, the vicar of Dymchurch and the Scarecrow of Romney Marsh was lying back on the pillows with a sigh of relief. In two or three seconds Doctor Syn was asleep.

Now being renowned as a good parson who cared for his flock, and was ever in the habit of crossing the Marsh at night in cases of illness that needed his spiritual visitations, it was the rule of the vicarage, that unless Mrs. Fowey, the housekeeper, heard his bell ring, which very often happened as early as seven, she should not take up his customary cup of chocolate until nine; and she had the strictest orders that it should never be later. No sooner had Mrs. Fowey called him at this hour, which was the hour for the sexton's visit, than she would say, 'That sexton Mipps is here, and wants his orders, vicar.' However, the morning after these adventures, it was long after nine that Mrs. Fowey brought the chocolate, for Mister Mipps, always very punctual in his dealings with his master, had been telling her some of the horrors which the poor reverend gentleman had gone through on the night previous. Mrs. Fowey had already heard some of this gossip from the inn servants and the butler at the Court House. The beadle also delayed the delivery of the doctor's chocolate, by following on the heels of the sexton and telling his version of the tragedy to Mrs. Fowey through the open casement of the kitchen. He was, he said, mortally afraid of the Scarecrow, and asked Mipps whether he thought it likely that the Night-riders would find out that it was he who took the body of the murdered revenue officer from the gallows.

'Since the Scarecrow seems to know everything what goes on,' replied Mipps, 'and is wonderful clever whatever we thinks about him, I should say he knows already that it was you what done it. And supposing he don't, which I doubt, won't it all come out at the inquest? The squire and the other Lords of the Level will sift every detail, and you'll be a nice fat bit of detail, and a marked man from now on. If we don't get the Scarecrow, the Scarecrow will get us, one by one, and you being the beadle will no doubt be the first to go.'

'But I had to do it,' whispered the beadle, looking fearfully over his shoulder, as though he expected to see the phantom rider appear from the Marsh mist. 'It was my duty.'

'The Scarecrow don't fancy duty what interferes with his plans,' went on Mipps, enjoying the terror of his colleague. 'It was my duty to rescue the good vicar, and I done it, but I'm a marked man for all that. I tell you, Mister Beadle, that we'll be got one by one, and perhaps two or three together, just to save time and make it seem more horrible. But I thinks as how I shall be the last to go. Do you know why?'

'Why?' repeated the wretched beadle.

''Cos he knows I'm the coffin-maker,' said Mipps solemnly. 'He don't want a lot of corpses hanging about all over the place. He wants to see nice little headstones above well-knocked-up coffins deep down and a pretty inscription, like yours will be, “Here lies the Beadle of Dymchurch. Murdered by the Scarecrow, along of his doing his duty which annoyed same considerable. Rest in Peace, Beadle.”'

'I don't mind telling you,' said the beadle in a querulous manner, 'that I don't feel ready for my last rest. We all has to go sometime, I admits, but I don't see why one should be pushed into it.'

'Cheer up,' replied Mipps by way of encouragement. 'I won't push you into it. I'll measure you generous-like, and drop you in the coffin I knocks up for you, as gently as I'd drop an infant into a crib. And I tell you what. Have you got any money laid by that you can spare?'

'You think I could bribe the Scarecrow somehow to spare me?' asked the beadle hopefully.

'No, I don't,' snapped Mipps. 'The little Welshman tried to bribe him in the vicar's hearing, and what happened to him? Buried to his neck in the sand and the rising tide! No, he's got too much money, has the Scarecrow, to want yours.

I meant have you got enough to give me, so as I'll be able to give you a nice bit of real oak with a pretty grain, and I'll throw in brass knobs for the same price.'

'I tell you I don't want to go at all,' cried the irritated beadle.

'You'll have to,' snapped Mipps again. 'And I'm sorry to have to say it. I thinks you'll be followed very quick by Doctor Syn, who won't be afraid to say what he thinks about the Scarecrow's behaviour at the inquest, and then by dear Mrs. Fowey whom I shall miss very much. She's always so good to us, and gives us a drop of rum when we calls to see her.'

'The Scarecrow had better not try any of his dirty tricks on me,' exclaimed the housekeeper. 'Oi'd quickly show him Oi had work to do for the dear vicar.

And he'd best not harm the good doctor or Oi'll be after the rogue. He's done enough already. What with last night, and now with your gossip of him, me being late with the chocolate! You know where the rum is, Mister Mipps, so draw a tot for yourself and the beadle while Oi takes up the chocolate.' As she stalked off with the tray and steaming dish, Mipps took her at her word and skipped off into the still-room in order to draw from the rum barrel.

Thither the beadle followed him, for he had no intention of being left to himself any more, until the Scarecrow and his followers were hanged by the neck, and even then, he though he would not be alone too much, for he had a firm belief in wicked spirits, and he shuddered when he thought of the Scarecrow as a ghost seeking him out for revenge.

Doctor Syn was still asleep when the housekeeper knocked on his door. As he did not reply with the customary 'Come in', she was nervous, and, opening the door, crossed to the bed table and set down the tray. She then saw his clothes covered with muddy sand and gave a cry of horror, which awoke the vicar, who pulled aside his bed curtains.

'Is Mipps here yet?' he asked.

'He has been telling me of the dreadful happenings,' she said. 'What a state your reverend clothes are in, to be sure!'

'Yes, Mrs. Fowey,' replied Syn. 'I wish you a good morning. It was not a good night, I assure you.'

'The beadle is below too,' went on the housekeeper. 'He is a very scared man, and that Mipps has been adding to his fears, saying that the Scarecrow will get us all one by one, and the beadle first of any. It is certain no one is safe till the Scarecrow is caught. Do you think, Doctor Syn, that he is a man who pretends to be the devil, or is he the devil himself riding the Marsh in shape of a man?'

'Whichever he may be,' returned the vicar piously, 'we know that his works are of the devil, and therefore we must not fear him, but rather keep our faith in God.'

'You are good and brave, Doctor Syn,' sighed the housekeeper. 'We should all do well to follow your example, but with devils riding in the Marsh and hanging honest men, it makes one doubt in a protecting Providence. What you say in your sermons about guardian angels doesn't seem quite right to me.'

'You must not speak like that, my good woman,' reproved Doctor Syn. 'The ways of Providence are beyond our understanding perhaps, but ever just and right. For some reason that poor Hythe officer was summoned into the Hereafter. His work on earth was finished. He was needed elsewhere. For the same reason, it was not time for me to go, and my guardian angel entered the little body of Mr. Mipps, and directed him to go fishing, in order to save my life. Therefore I must bravely continue here doing my duty. Send the sexton up to me.' Mrs. Fowey found the two men in the still-room, where Mipps crouched over the tap.

'When you've finished the barrel,' she said sharply, 'perhaps you'll attend on the poor vicar while in mends and dries his clothes.'

'We'll have our drink first,' said Mipps with a sly wink to the beadle.

'Something went wrong with the tap. But the beadle will be glad to know that it is now working after a fashion. Will you partake, Mrs. Fowey?'

'Oi will not,' she replied acidly. 'And it seems to me that the tap has worked only too easily, by the looks of you both. Only a minute ago the good vicar was calling you his guardian angel along of saving his life last night, but Oi thinks you a mischievous and lying little devil, and I know the beadle agrees with me.'

'Mr. Mipps likes his little joke, ma'am,' replied the beadle cautiously.

'But it weren't no joke about the Scarecrow getting you,' said Mipps, filling his pannikin quickly once more.

'Well, he did have to twist and turn at the tap, I'll say that for him,' answered the beadle, rather pleased with himself that he could make a sly joke himself, despite the fear in his stomach.

'Aye, and Oi'll be bound it turned and twisted to very good effect,' snapped the housekeeper.

'It finally has, ma'am,' grinned Mipps. 'Wasn't it you what once told me as how rum was the best cure for a stomach full of salt water? No one knows so many cures for ailments as you in this village. Not even old Doctor Pepper. So I'll take your advice, and have just this one more.' Which he proceeded to do.

This was a little too much for the old woman, who picked up a spare spigot and flung it at his head.

Mipps dodged aside to safety without spilling a drop of the precious liquor, and tossing it down his throat, he handed her the empty pannikin with a polite, 'Thankee ma'am.'

'Put it down yourself,' she ordered, 'and be off with you upstairs.'

'Anything to oblige a pretty girl,' smiled Mipps, and as he sauntered out of the door, he looked back and said, 'Remember, beadle, that my promise holds good. Nice bit of grained oak! With knobs!' Mrs. Fowey vented her rage now upon the beadle, ordering him to be off and not follow her about in her kitchen.

'I though, ma'am, that you might like a man about as a protection. The Scarecrow may take a quicker revenge on the vicarage than you imagine.

There's no one more against the Scarecrow than the vicar.'

'If you thinks that the Scarecrow will come in here when Mrs. Fowey is preparing breakfast, you're wrong. Oi fears no devils in the mornings when Oi has work to do. Be off and do some work too!' Meantime Mipps had closed the vicar's bedroom door behind him, and was inquiring after that reverend gentleman's health.

Doctor Syn handed the sexton his empty dish of chocolate, saying, 'I know you never indulge in this beverage, Mipps, but if you did, I think you would agree with me that it needs something a little stronger to settle it. Pass the brandy. Has Mrs. Fowey been hospitable to you?' Mipps produced the bottle from behind the book. 'Yes and no, sir. Offered me and the beadle a tot of rum which was welcome enough, but you know what here tots is like. There's nothing like a drop of brandy after a good wetting as we had last night. Good for agues, vapours, and spleens!'

'I am sorry to find you suffering from so many disorders,' smiled the vicar.

'Well, you shall have the bottle after me, that is if there is any left. Now I feel very well indeed, and am looking forward to a most amusing day. Though it will not do for me to show I am amused, and it will certainly not do to let anyone but yourself realize that I am in the best of health. I must be today a man who has suffered much both in body and spirit. I shall have to shake with the ague to the extent of deceiving Doctor Pepper, and I shall be broken up with grief that, through the little Welsh lawyer, I have realized that there is such a thing as smuggling going on upon our beloved Marsh. But my spirit will not be broken.' Here the doctor took a long pull at the brandy, before continuing with a radiant smile, 'I shall condemn the sin of smuggling, not only because it defrauds the revenue, but because I find that it leads to one of the deadliest of sins—MURDER. I shall exhort all to unite against these miscreants. I shall urge not only the discovery of the Scarecrow, but the whereabouts of the highwayman.'

'Oh, come now, vicar,' expostulated Doctor Syn's factotum, 'you know you've always admired Mister Bone because he pays his dueful tithes and is kind to the poor poor.'

'My good Mipps, is not the man a criminal?' The vicar was kindly in tone as he asked it. 'There are many admirable qualities in this highwayman, which not only myself but the squire admires. But by breaking the law he causes a greater offence against the law of God. Through his rescue, a murder has been committed. Murder is very dreadful, Mipps. I hope you agree?'

'I think it's horrible,' agreed Mipps. 'But I also thinks that the Hythe officer had to be got rid of for the safety of the Night-riders.'

Syn nodded and smiled, then took another pull at the brandy before handing the bottle to Mipps, who drank greedily.

At this moment they heard a clattering of hoofs outside the adjacent Court House.

'See what that is,' ordered Syn. 'The hunt has started, it seems.' Mipps went to the casement and peered out.

'Four of the squire's grooms mounted, sir,' he reported, 'and the Clerk of the Level is handing 'em sealed documents.'

'The squire is sending them out to summon an extraordinary meeting of the Lords of the Level,' said Doctor Syn. 'It can hardly be today, but certainly tomorrow. That will give us time to do what we have to do. It is essential that I visit old Mother Handaway. She will have to be ill. I cannot risk having her questioned by the lawyers, at least not in the Court House. They might make her tell too many things. Not that any would believe her, but it might put ideas into someone's head, who might one day discover that the old hag is not quite as mad as she is reported.'

'Aye, aye,' replied Mipps. 'She'd be a danger in the Court House. But if they should visit her cottage and question her, I think her love of the guineas she earns will make her faithful to the devil she serves. No offence, sir,' added Mipps in apology, 'but she's mortally afraid of you.' They were interrupted by Mrs. Fowey knocking at the door with hot water, and the news that the vicar must wear his best clothes as it would take her a long time to make his others looks respectable. She also informed Mipps that it was close on ten o'clock, and that the villagers appeared to have no work to do, like she had, for they were crowding into the square, staring at the Court House, the vicarage and the gallows, and that the beadle was making no attempt to send them off upon their business.

'He don't want to be left alone,' said Mipps with a grin, closing the door.

He then proceeded to shave his master, a duty dating from the old days when they had sailed together on the pirate ship, Imogene, as captain and ship's carpenter respectively. As the little sexton helped the doctor to array himself in his est clothes, a note was delivered from the squire, begging his old friend to send word how he found himself, or better, to wait upon him if sufficiently recovered from the misadventure, and to rid him of the Welshman from the Ship Inn, who, although suffering from shock and a sneezing attack, had called early at the Court House to lodge a protest against the treatment he had received 'in my village!' Syn and Mipps chuckled as they read:

'He is putting too sharp an edge upon my nerves. He followed me into the library, where I am now penning this letter to you, and keeps interrupting my train of thought, which is never at its best after an attack of gout, by enlarging upon his grievances, in that irritating accent which he has adopted. My breakfast he ruined, for he would eat nothing. He glared at my grilled kidneys till they turned into saddle leather, and he then took the frizzle out of the bacon by telling me that I ate too much for a man of my girth, whereupon I countered this impertinence by ordering a round of beef and a slice of cold pie which I washed down with a tankard of strong ale. I was in the mind to open a bottle of port, just to show him that we have gentlemen left in England. What with his speeches last night about Jimmie Bone and the Tontine, I do not see why I should endure more. Come to my rescue. I can sympathize with you but not with him. Why on earth, man, did you and Mipps dig him out? It would have been a quick road for winning the Tontine, and no one to blame but the Scarecrow. I have ever hated my legal colleagues who adopt the dry-as-dust attitude. It is worse than a parsony parson. I have already sent out special Request of Attendances to the Lords of the Level, convening them in two days' time. On hearing this he was further peeved that it was not to be today.

Whereupon I informed him that according to my code of manners, an English County Gentleman should never be hurried. You will judge of my feelings by the length of this epistle, which has been penned to relieve them, Your old friend, Tony.'

'And the longest letter the squire ever wrote in his life and with such speed, I'll swear,' laughed Doctor Syn. 'Well, since he never has failed me yet, I will not fail him. But I must not go in haste, for I must remember not to appear as well as I feel. The villagers must see me somewhat bent and tired, so that my resentment against the Scarecrow may be the more convincing. Take word to the squire that I will wait upon him just as soon as I can deceive Mrs. Fowey that I have tried to eat a little breakfast.'

As Mipps walked towards the Court House, he was beset with questions from the villagers, all wanting to know how the good vicar did, to which Mipps replied with a sad shake of his head, 'Very shook! And who wouldn't be? Shockin'!' Presently Doctor Syn himself appeared, and a murmur of sympathy went round as the women curtsied and the men took off their hats. No longer the alert and upright figure which they all admired, but a man broken not only by physical shock, but through bitter spiritual disappointment. Doctor Syn passed through their ranks in a dazed fashion, till he reached the step of the Court House door. It was only here that he seemed to become aware of the crowd, for he turned slowly and surveyed them first in surprise and then in sorrow. Each man who met those penetrating eyes felt that the good vicar was searching his very soul for some hypocrisy. In his best pulpit manner he addressed them.

'My friends, but for the protection of the God I try to serve, you might today have been thus standing round my corpse, hats off and eyes downcast. Had Mister Mipps not been inspired to go a-fishing, and had he not risked his life to save me, it is certain that the bitter waters of death would have passed over my head. But even when I was facing certain death, it was neither physical pain nor fear of drowning that struck a chill to my heart. It was the boastful assurance of my captor that amongst my flock could be numbered many of the Scarecrow's men. I look around now at your honest faces that I know so well, and I find that I cannot suspect one of you to be so dishonest. I can only think that my informant was lying in order to make my end the more bitter. On the other hand should any of you know anything of these Night-riders, do not, I urge you, through fear of their revenge, refrain from coming forward and telling what you know. The good squire and myself will keep your counsel and protect you. For myself, despite the tortures I have suffered at their hands, I range myself publicly as the enemy of these miscreants, and either with your help, or wanting it, I shall not rest content till I have rid the Marsh of this cunning monster called the Scarecrow. And now disperse, my friends, for my friends I hope you'll always be. Go about your daily tasks, and do not give this arrogant Phantom Rider the satisfaction of knowing that he can disorganize the daily life of our peaceful little Dymchurch.' He then raised his hand in blessing and added, 'May the Lord keep us safe under the shadow of His wing. Aye, my friends, we shall be safe under His feathers, so be not afraid for this Terror by night, nor for this Pestilence that walketh in our darkness.' He was about to turn to go into the open door of the Court House, when his eye fell upon the village schoolmaster.

'Mr. Rash,' he said reprovingly, 'I am surprised to see you playing truant with your pupils. Round up your little flock immediately, and continue to train them to be as good Marsh folk as I trust their parents are. So, to your honest trades all of you, and leave these tragic happenings to be dealt with by the proper authorities. Our good squire, at the head of his Lords of the Level, will take such steps as will be found necessary to drive the devil from our midst.' The crowd, many of them shamefaced, broke up into little groups and strolled away, while the schoolmaster, angry at having been called to task before the parish, took revenge upon his charges, by making free use of his cane to drive them out of the squire into the school house.

The gravity which Doctor Syn had assumed to such good effect was broken by a smile as he watched them go, for young Jerry Jerk, the notorious bad lad of the village, dodged away from his schoolmates, and with his master in pursuit, he swarmed up one of the supports of the gallows, and swung by his hands from the cross beam, rolling his eyes up to the sky and pointing his toes down to the ground, while he cried out, 'The Scarecrow has hanged the schoolmaster. I'm old Rash.'

Unfortunately for the enraged pedagogue, who had rushed up and aimed a swinging blow at Jerry's legs, the cane struck the side post and broke in two, whereupon the mischievous scamp dropped to the ground, picked up the two pieces, and handed them politely to their owner with a 'Yours I believe, sir?' He then took to his heels and ran for the school house. Doctor Syn recovered his grave attitude by the time he reached the squire's library door. As he entered quietly, the squire was sitting in his big chair and smoking his long churchwarden pipe, while the Welshman was standing over him and talking wildly. The squire smoked rapidly, as though to hide his guest behind a cloud of tobacco, but on seeing Doctor Syn, he thundered out, regardless of interrupting the angry little lawyer, 'Thank God, my dear Christopher! I am delighted to see you alive.' The emphasis he laid upon the 'you' made it quite clear that he wished the Welshman were not so alive.

The first delight and relief which shone on the squire's jolly face was changed, however, to an expression of grave concern when he stood up and eyed the doctor closely.

'My poor friend!' he said, 'but you look ill. The shock has been too much.'

'We were certainly not treated gently, my good Tony,' replied the vicar, 'as no doubt my companion in misfortune here has told you. Mr. Jones, I trust you are somewhat recovered? I fear that you swallowed more salt water than myself.'

'I was lower in the water than yourself, Doctor Syn,' said the Welshman acidly. 'And may I remind you that I was the last to be dug out of the sand?'

'Mr. Jones,' said the vicar in reply, 'I think there are very few men in the world who can boast of the devotion of such a servant as our friend Mipps. At least do me the justice to own before the squire that I ordered him to deal with you the first as being the lower in the water. He pointed out that he would sooner have my help to rescue you than yours to rescue me. At least he succeeded in saving both our lives, so I think we need not criticize him.'

'Aye, we both owe our lives to the little fellow, I'll not deny,' allowed the Welshman. 'As to your own conduct, I'll own it was good and honest, for you had the best chance in the world to see me dead through no fault of your own, when you could have journeyed to Edinburgh and claimed the Tontine of our fathers. If I do not die of the cold I have contracted, we shall still be rivals in that.'

'When the inquiry is over,' replied Doctor Syn, 'as I have already told the squire, I may journey with you to Edinburgh to identify myself and see how the matter stands, for I am so grieved at what that rascal Curlew told me about Dymchurch men riding with the Scarecrow, that I find I can hardly look my parishioners in the face. It is a dreadful burden on one's soul to doubt those one loves.'

'I'll admit,' put in the squire, 'that a change of scene from the parish would do you good. You have stuck to your pulpit these many years as faithfully as a good captain stands by his ship. But a captain get his shore leave, and you have had none. We shall be lost without you, and you'll have a welcome back. I should be tempted to accompany you were it not for this cursed gout, which would, I fear, make me a burden to you. But Mipps could accompany you, and then I shall know you will be well cared for. Indeed I doubt if the little rascal would be left behind.'

'We will leave it in abeyance till after the trial,' said the vicar, who nevertheless had made up his mind to go.

During that day and the next, he discussed the matter with Mipps, who, although ready enough to obey his master and having no intention of letting him out of his sight, especially in company of the Welshman, expressed his doubts as to the advisability of leaving the parish, or rather their secret organization in it, for so long.

'My good Mipps,' Doctor Syn whispered in spite of the closed shutters of the study where they talked late at night, 'the whole safety of our scheme has been that I have always schemed to eliminate stupid risks. True, we have sometimes had to take them when thrust upon us, but the Scarecrow's rule has been never to seek them wantonly. The hue and cry that is bound to arise after this coming inquiry will force us to suspend further operations for a week or so.

As Chaplain to the Lords of the Level, I shall use all the vehement oratory in accordance with my position, in order to rouse up a mighty search of the neighbourhood. That will put fear into the Night-riders, and they will be only too thankful that their leaders are lying low and not calling them out on a further run. We know also that they would not dare any operation of their own.'

'With you away,' nodded Mipps, 'and Jimmie Bone safe in France, they would have no Scarecrow. No, they would not act without orders.'

'Has the lugger returned?' asked Syn.

'Aye, sir,' replied Mipps. 'I sighted her off Littlestone beach. She come in with an innocent-looking cargo of fish. I spoke to the skipper later, and he told me that the gentleman what took secret passage by night on her, meaning Jimmie Bone, was safe landed t'other side of the Channel, and is safe with the gang there.'

'You should have told me that immediately, Mipps,' said Syn reprovingly. 'I have been anxious about our friend's safety, and with one anxiety the less, one has a free compartment in one's brain for something else.'

'Quite right, and sorry, sir!' replied Mipps. 'You'll have enough to worry you at the Court House tomorrow morning.'

'All I would have you remember, Mipps, is that should you be confronted in the witness box with any evidence that you find awkward to answer, appeal to me on some pretext and follow my lead. One is never quite sure in cases like this what little detail may not be brought up, which might put a different complexion upon the whole case, and become damning. We must keep our weather eye open, Master Carpenter.'

'Aye, aye, Captain,' grinned Mipps, and the two rascals, after a generous night-cap had been brewed by the vicar, parted for an early night's rest, a thing they were certainly not in the habit of doing.

On the following morning, which broke fine and clear, the Court Room was filled to capacity long before the various coaches of the Lords of the Level were due to arrive.

This historic hall of justice, which is a symbol of the independence of the Marsh, is situated on the first floor. It is small; it is dingy, with that musty smell usually hanging about ancient buildings. But for all these disadvantages, it has a dignity which is crowned by the Royal Arms emblazoned over the Throne of the Chief Leveller, or Magistrate. Representing the Crown and the Marsh law, Sir Antony always occupied this seat of high honour, just as his father and a long line of Cobtrees had done before him. Since the beadle had to escort the Lords into the Court House to wait upon Sir Antony, order was maintained in the room, before the judges sat, by the revenue men, who guarded the door and kept the stairway clear.

Excitement and curiosity prevailed amongst the crowd who were lucky enough to gain admission, but it was very noticeable, especially to Mipps who hovered in and out with a wink and a word to everyone, that whereas the women squashed themselves into front seats, their men folk were well content to be separated from them and to crowd the back benches.

Mipps approached Mrs. Waggetts, and whispered, 'Some of them men back there looks a bit sheepish, as though they was afraid to be seen by the lawyers. I only hopes for their sakes that none of them has got mixed up with this trouble, for since they can't catch the Scarecrow, the authorities may be wishful to hang a few others in his place. And this 'ere's a God-fearing village, Mrs. W. Oh, what a wicked world we lives in to be sure!'

'But we knows all the lads back there,' argued Mrs. Waggetts. 'No harm in any of 'em, Mr. Mipps.'

'Let's hope not,' retorted the sexton. 'But nobody really knows what anybody is these days. Who's the Scarecrow, for instance? You don't know, I don't know, nor does nobody know. Might be old Farmer Murrain. Might be the Archbishop of Canterbury.'

'Murrain ain't clever enough,' whispered the landlady of the Ship Inn wisely.

'And the Archbishop would look sillier on horse-back than I does on the churchyard donkey.' Mipps shook his head. 'No, you can rule all three of us out. But whoever the Scarecrow be, I hopes they gets him, for the shameful way he treated our good vicar.'

'Amen!' said the women sitting around, who had overheard.

Mipps, as a very privileged person and an official of the parish, passed beyond the oak barrier that railed off the public from the seats reserved for the principals. He examined the quill pens, the sheets of parchment, and the sandboxes. Satisfied that all was in order, he then left the Court Room in order to put on his verger's gown and fetch the vicar from the vicarage to the squire's apartments.

He passed through the crowds who had not been fortunate enough to gain access to the court but noted that they had plenty of excitement too, for the Lords of the Level drove up in great state in their emblazoned coaches with postilions and outriders. Especially magnificent was the equipage of Sir Henry Pembury, the Lord of Lympne, but perhaps it was General Troubridge from Dover Castle who attracted most attention, for his carriage was surrounded by an escort of dragoons. Both these gentlemen had suffered badly at the hands of the Scarecrow, and were hopeful that this inquiry would be the means of solving the Phantom Rider's identity.

Then there was Admiral Troubridge, commanding the Harbour Guardship.

He accompanied his brother, his naval uniform contrasting with that of the brass-helmeted dragoons.

There were other magnificent figures amongst the Justices. Lord Noel of Aldington, wearing his scarlet gown above the rich brocades, the Mayors of Hythe and Romney, and the Constable of Sandgate Castle. As each of these stately individuals alighted and was ushered through the great door in order to enter the squire's residence, they were loudly and loyally cheered by the crowd, but no one excited more interest than the striking figure of Doctor Syn, dressed in his neat black clerical suit, with the scarlet gown of one of Oxford's Doctors of Divinity.

All these gentlemen, with other privileged Marsh squires, were received by Sir Antony in his library, and regaled with great refreshment in the adjacent dining-room, where a cold buffet was spread, and the best of liquor served.

This, however, was only a prelude to whet their appetites for the banquet to which they knew they would sit down, when the Court rose for the day.

While they ate and drank and gossiped, the crowd outside gaped at the mounted escort of dragoons, and no doubt many shivered in their shoes at the thought that perhaps one day not only the Scarecrow, but all his men might appear at the bar upstairs to be judged by all this finery of the law.

At last two trumpeters appeared upon the Court House steps, dressed in the Romney Marsh Tabard. They sounded a stately fanfare, which was the signal for Doctor Syn, as Dean of the Peculiars and Chaplain to the Lords of the Level, to lead the Justices across the Square into the church, where he delivered the exhortation that God might direct their findings in His wisdom, so that justice might be meted out, and that all might serve God, honour the King, and pay honestly such Scotts as the Maintaining of the Wall should necessitate, for the peace and safety of all good people who dwelt on Romney Marsh.

Then back in procession they walked between the ranks of dragoons, and ushered the squire of Dymchurch up the stairs into the Court Room, to the seat he held as representing the Sovereign upon the Lower Levels of the County of Kent.

Just as the inquiry was about to be opened by Sir Antony, and the humble folk in the body of the hall were discussing in whispers which of the gentry cut the bravest figure, there suddenly appeared a stranger who in sheer magnificence seemed to outshine them all.

Like Lord Noel of Aldington, he was dressed in the latest mode, but, unlike his lordship, he did not wear a wig, but his own hair, a luxuriant auburn, beautifully curled and be-ribboned. His dazzling and effeminate dress could not disguise a colossal strength of body. He was well over six foot, with broad shoulders, well-shaped legs, and a graceful carriage for all his weight. He had a handsome face, though arrogant and with a tendency to sneer; but this fault he could rectify at will by the most engaging smile, which showed perfect teeth.

He entered from the back of the hall and surveyed the assembly critically through a gold-mounted quizzing-glass. He suggested his dislike of the common people around him, by taking a pinch of snuff as an antidote to their perfume.

His long cane cleared him a passage past those who had entered and blocked the aisle after the procession had entered. In silence he approached the barrier, took off his hat to the squire, made him an elegant bow, and said, 'I hope that your Honour will give me permission to sit next to my old friend, Lawyer Jones, who I hear is in some way connected with this Session. Delighted to see you, Jones. As you perceive I have followed you.' Then, turning to the squire once more, he added, 'I am a student of law and order, sir, and have heard much of your Honour's wisdom in the cause of justice. I therefore crave your permission to be seated, so that I may sit under your Honour at this trial, and learn. I feel sure that my friend Jones will welcome my presence, since he is a stranger here, and I happen to come from his part of the country. Sir Antony Cobtree, I am called Tarroc Dolgenny, and I am very much at your service.' The squire, though somewhat disliking the man's condescending tone, was pleased to have his wisdom praised in such an August assembly, so he turned to the sexton who stood behind Doctor Syn, and said politely, 'Mr. Mipps, place the gentleman a chair.' Mipps obeyed quickly, opening the barrier to admit the stranger in the exalted portion of the hall.

Doctor Syn, screening his face behind a parchment, whispered to Jones who sat next to him, 'Plague take it! It's the fellow who wants to murder us! We must watch him!' This little pleasantry was lost, however, on the Welsh lawyer, who had turned deathly pale, and had much ado to keep his hand from shaking.

Mipps, having closed the barrier once more, managed to pass the squire's throne on his way back to his place, and he whispered audibly, 'Squire, it may be the Scarecrow.' Those who heard looked uncomfortably at the stranger, and Doctor Syn thought that, had he indeed been the Scarecrow, he could hardly have made a more sensational entrance.

Aloud he said, 'Sit down, Mr. Dolgenny! You are welcome! And my friend here will, I know, be glad of your counsel.'

With a bow to the vicar, the stranger took his seat, saying, 'Thank you, Doctor Syn!'

'This is an exceptional fellow,' thought Doctor Syn. 'He has either taken good care to be well-informed, or he jumps very quickly to conclusions.' Throughout the squire's opening speech, Dolgenny contented himself with eyeing the common people beyond the barrier one by one, through his quizzingglass. To Doctor Syn, who was in reality watching him closely though pretending to be absorbed in the speech, it seemed that the stranger was seeking for someone that he could not find, and yet felt confident that the somebody was here. He began his search amongst the men on the back benches.

This took some little time. He then continued his search amongst the women.

This was an altogether quicker operation. It was to Doctor Syn as though the stranger was saying, 'Might be, possibly, but not probably. I don't think so. No, certainly not there.' Having seemingly made up his mind on that score, he deliberately turned his back upon the body of the hall and his attention towards the justices, witnesses, and jurymen, and others like Mipps, the beadle, and clerk of the court, who by reason of their offices were within the barrier.

Underlying the man's manner of casual arrogance and lazy contempt, Doctor Syn detected the sharpest scrutiny, and although the opening speech of the squire was purposely concise, owing to the many witnesses who were to be heard and questioned, Dolgenny, at the end of it, seemed to have weighed up everyone's character in the Court House. Many he seemed to dismiss at once, while others he appeared to reserve for further examination.

When the witnesses took their stand in turn, Dolgenny changed his tactics, for he appropriated the quill pen and blank paper set in front of the Welsh lawyer, and, hardly looking up at all, listened, and made copious notes.

Since there was no criminal present to question, the inquiry, though long, was neither heated, nor complicated.

The Welshman told his story, which fitted in with the stories of Doctor Syn and Mipps. On the private advice of the squire, Mr. Jones did not give the real reason of his visit to Dymchurch, except to say that he came on a legal matter to see the vicar. Doctor Syn had agreed that it would be unwise to mention a Tontine formed by a number of Jacobites in front of so many loyal justices of the peace.

The greatest sympathy was extended to the good vicar, who on the evidence brought forward had suffered such rough treatment from the highwayman as well as from the Scarecrow's men. On speaking of the trials endured by Mr. Jones, the squire, though deploring them, maintained that the gentleman had brought them on his own head, by wilfully seeking trouble in matters that in no way concerned him.

As for Mipps, he came in for the most unstinted praise, especially for his attack upon the highwayman and, later, his rescue of the buried victims.

'It was the act of a valiant man,' said the squire, 'to attack that giant whom you have all heard described as a giant and armed with three pistols. I say it was brave indeed to attack him with nothing but a spade. How you were successful, Mr. Mipps, I do not know except that right was upon your side.' Here Mipps put on the holiest of expressions, as he answered, 'Well, squire, it were like this. Seeing as how he was so big and strong and armed and horrible to look at, and the vicar will bear me out he made you shudder to look at him, I got thinking suddenly of Goliath, and then me being small-like, I thought I'd have a go at being David, and so I just give him one unexpected and quick. That's all, squire.' The whole proceedings were conducted in the kindest spirit, and although the Squire had to own on the various pieces of evidence that smuggling was going on, he beamed upon the crowded court and said that he thanked God for his belief that none of the miscreants were Dymchurch men. Indeed he was only ruffled once, and that with one of the revenue men.

This was the unfortunate who had sustained a heavy blow with a wooden bat or club at Botolph's Bridge. His head was still swathed in bandages, and, fortunately for Doctor Syn, he gave his evidence in a dazed manner, for in the course of being questioned he stated a fact which the vicar was determined to deny, namely that the first person he had challenged that night was the vicar riding alone on his white pony and going to visit someone sick upon the Marsh.

'But did you go into the Marsh alone, sir?' asked the Welsh lawyer. 'I thought, when you left me on the sea-wall, that you went back to pen your sermon, and then I found you asleep in the vicarage.'

'The reverend gentleman,' went on the witness, 'had his baskets on his saddle front, filled with good things for his patient. I warned him not to go further on to the Marsh, since there was a “run” planned and likely to be danger. The reverend gentleman will remember that he answered as to how no danger would keep him from his duty, and I says to my mate, who is now down below on guard at the court door, that there went a good man, or something to that effect.'

'But, my good man,' put in the Welsh lawyer, 'you heard in my evidence that the scoundrels who arrested us said that it was Mipps who had crossed the Marsh with the old lady's comforts.'

'I tell you it weren't Mipps, it were the vicar,' snapped the man.

Doctor Syn smiled. 'It might have been me, but I cannot take credit that belongs to Mipps. I told my sexton that I had altered my plan at the request of Mr. Jones, and that I should be visiting the poor old soul about midnight, for I knew how bad her nights were. Mipps, always thinking of others, said that he would go out and tell her so, and as she might be in need of the nourishments, would take them with him. Mipps will remember his answer when I gave permission. He said, “You look after her old soul, and I'll see to her old body”.

Knowing that even the smugglers hold respect for my cloth, I bade Mipps ride my pony which is well known all over the Marsh, and in addition, to wear my second-best clerical wig and coat.'

'That's true, sir,' cried Mipps. 'Bit long in the sleeve, so I had to tuck 'em up to guide the steering reins. Wore the vicar's old hat too, I did. If the bridge hadn't been misty from the dyke water, you'd have seen it were none but old Mipps.'

'I tell you the vicar spoke to me in his very own voice,' argued the man.

'And who is it, mate,' demanded Mipps, 'who hears the vicar's very own voice, as you calls it, more than anyone else? Me! Don't we go through the Psalms and Responses every Matins and Evensong daily? Never notices you there. You'd be a better and a more truthful man if I did. Well then, after hearing him do them long prayers for years, if I can't imitate his voice I ain't as clever as the coastguards' parrot. I was having a game with you, and you was took in.'

'Don't believe it!' retorted the witness. 'Let's hear you do his voice, then.'

'What? In front of the reverend gentleman?' asked Mipps in horror. 'I'm respectful, even if you ain't respectable.' The revenue man got angry. 'Let the squire send for my mate from below.

He'll bear me out that I ain't lying.'

'Stand down,' thundered the squire. 'Both vicar and sexton have contradicted you, and how dare you call their word in question?'

'There, there, squire,' urged the vicar soothingly. 'The poor fellow has had concussion, and as Doctor Pepper there will bear me out, that very often develops the strangest hallucinations in the brain.'

'Is your head bad?' asked the squire.

'Aye, sir,' confessed the revenue man.

'Then don't talk or contradict or—well, in fact, don't make a fool of yourself till it's better.' Saying which, the squire asked if there were any more witnesses, as it was already past dinner-time, and, taking the hint, the clerk of the court said that there were none who could throw any further light upon the affair. Whereupon the squire summed up that the Hythe officer had been brutally murdered by the Scarecrow, who had also attempted to murder by slow torture Doctor Syn and Mr. Jones of North Wales. He ordered, therefore, that the countryside must be searched, the miscreant arrested, and then hanged by the neck till he was dead.

This was so decisive that the gentlemen looked at one another as much as to say, 'Easier said than done.' Asked if there was any further business before adjourning, Sir Henry Pembury said, 'I think we should raise the reward already existing for the arrest not only of this Scarecrow, but also for this dastardly highwayman, who appears to have been the cause of all this trouble.' Lord Noel of Aldington yawned and said, 'Certainly! We can be as generous as we like, for it's my belief that we shall never catch either of them.'

'I rather agree with you, my lord,' laughed Sir Antony. 'Still, we can but go on trying.'

'May I ask how much the reward stands at present, sir?' The speaker was Dolgenny.

'For the smuggler or the highwayman?' asked the squire.

'Well, I was thinking of the smuggler, sir,' he answered. 'But since they are confederates, one might lead to the other. But I was thinking of this so-called Phantom Rider. Have you made the reward sufficiently high to tempt a man to run the risk of unmasking him?'

The squire looked round for information and happening to catch Doctor Syn's eye, asked, 'What does it stand at now? With the reward offered by General Troubridge here, added to the official price on the rascal's head, it stands at a thousand guineas, I think.' Doctor Syn shrugged his shoulders. 'I think that is the figure, but what does it matter? We shall never catch that rascal, the more's the pity. Neither shall we ever pay the price for the highwayman. Five hundred he stands at, but again what is the use of catching him, when the Scarecrow is on his side?'

'Don't lose heart, Parson,' emphasized Dolgenny. 'I rather think we shall get the Scarecrow. Or perhaps I should say, I am pretty confident that I can, should the reward be raised to make it worth the pains. My Lord of Aldington there will agree that a thousand does not carry one far in play at the Coffee Houses.'

'Ah yes, now,' replied Lord Noel, 'I thought I had seen you somewhere, sir.

Now was it White's or Crockford's?' I have seen the luck with you and against you in both houses, my lord,' said Dolgenny.

'And more against me, I'll be sworn,' laughed His Lordship. 'Yes now, and if I recollect rightly, the cards had a way of falling pat for you.' Doctor Syn, detecting a trace of sarcasm in Lord Noel's voice, glanced quickly at Dolgenny. But if insult was meant, the stranger showed no sign of noticing it, but answered amiably, 'I am lucky as a rule. That is why I feel I could match myself against this Scarecrow.'

'Well, gentlemen,' cried the squire testily, 'never mind him now! He has occupied our thoughts enough for this day, and made us hungry for better fare.' He looked Dolgenny over carefully, and finding him at least presentable in clothes and bearing, added, 'If you care to join us, sir, you are welcome. We dine within this building at my residence. Mr. Jones, too, will be welcome if he is in the mind.' Although the procession of entry to the Court House was always stately in the extreme, the departure of the officials, when the work was done and the court dismissed, was entirely informal. The squire certainly led the way, and on this occasion with the two brothers, Admiral and General Troubridge, on each side of him, but not as the chief magistrate, but their host.

Following him was Doctor Syn who had been swooped down upon by Sir Henry Pembury of Lympne. This fat old knight at once complained that these inquiries wasted time.

'There have been so many of them, Doctor,' he said. 'We sit around and listen to the recital of the Scarecrow's latest escapade, but even though murder is added to his crime against the revenue, we get no nearer to catching the wretch.'

On the other side was Lord Noel of Aldington, most eager to know when the good doctor was coming up again to the parish church in order to occupy the pulpit.

'I gave my living to a young cousin of min as you know, doctor,' explained his lordship. 'The choice was a good one. He is quite popular. Exceedingly so with the ladies, by reason of his looks and nice manners. Reasonably liked by the men too, though somewhat young to teach the old ones wisdom. In the pulpit, however, he is more confectioner than preacher. His heaven is an angelcake, with layers of cream covered with texts of sugar. Both hell and sin he ignores, and only mentions Heaven and virtues. I would hear rather the clanging gates of hell and sniff the sulphur, if only by way of a change. Oh, pray come up to us soon, doctor, and damn our congregation for a lot of rogues.

'Tis what we need. In a parish like mine, it is surely somewhat ridiculous to harp on harps, and to lean over the pulpit side assuring rough farm labourers that one day they will be plucking strings in the heavenly choir! Only last Sunday an aged tenant of mine confessed that although he could still wind the straight horn at eighty years of age, he felt he would never get on very well with parson's harps when his time came. I comforted him by saying that the more exalted angels did not play harps but trumpets, which exactly resembled the coach-horn that he used to wind on the Dover mail.'

'And a very good answer too, my lord!' said the vicar.

'I thought so,' went on his lordship. 'You once said that heaven was a place in which only the best of our talents would be developed. That is all right for my old horn-winder, but I should like to be assured that there will be card tables too, for I vow that is my most skilful accomplishment.'

'Why should we try to deprive Heaven of any good thing?' returned the vicar. 'For myself I should feel most uncomfortable if I am to spend eternity in marble halls with floors of gold and pearly gates. Give me a good old coaching inn with oak rafters, a spacious fireplace, and the best of good cheer. Neither do I want to float around in a glorified nightshirt, but to wear the clothes I have been accustomed to.'

'Doctor Syn,' said his lordship, 'upon my soul you should occupy a pulpit in Town. With that sort of theology, you would draw full houses. Paint a heaven like a Vauxhall Gardens, and every Macaroni would sit under you!'

'Aye, in a fashionable church no doubt,' smiled the doctor, 'where they could show off their finery and ogle the women.' Whereupon his lordship began to explain that the vogue for sermons was reviving amongst the best people in town; that many of the dandies listened to the best preachers, partly to study high-sounding phrases, but chiefly to appear surprising in their taste.

'They will boast about their acquaintance with a fashionable preacher and a champion bruiser in the same breath.'

Now, Doctor Syn had long since trained his senses to do two things at the same time, and, as none but Mipps knew, he often worked out difficult dispositions of men, boats, and pack-ponies to be employed in the next run, while actually delivering a sermon. On this occasion he was listening to two conversations. Not only was he perfectly aware of everything his lordship was saying, but he was listening to everything Dolgenny was saying to Jones, who walked just behind him.

'You would ask me what ill-wind has blown me after you so soon?' Dolgenny spoke clearly. Jones replied in whispers. But Doctor Syn detected hatred born of fear in his low tones.

'You came to spy on me, I suppose? To see if I had carried out your wishes? I told you that the first wish was impossible, and as you see I have not carried it out.' As he said this he pointed to Doctor Syn in front of them. 'As to the other wish, or rather order, I think I have succeeded better.'

'You mean he will come north?' It was Dolgenny's turn to whisper.

Doctor Syn did not catch anything then but a mumble. He guessed, however, what Dolgenny conveyed, and knew by instinct that the lawyer nodded.

'You know, little Jones,' went on Dolgenny in a tone which reminded Doctor Syn of a sixth-form schoolboy talking to his fag, 'I have been somewhat mistaken in you, and that annoys me, for I have a most unfailing knack of judging men for what they are and not for what they pretend. Quite honestly I believed you to be the dullest man I had ever met. Well, there is a lot of dullness yet, in spite of a curious undercurrent of romance which I never would have credited. And yet on the evidence I have heard today in this quaint corner of the kingdom, I find that from sheer adventurous curiosity you have been thrusting yourself into dangerous mysteries that have nothing to do with you.

Again, I always took you for a cautious business man. You have executed your will in favour of your most adorable niece, Ann Sudden, who by the way sends you good wishes, and yet with the Tontine so near to your hand, you must needs go and tempt a scoundrel to murder you, in which case, had you not had the greatest luck in being rescued, that vast sum of money would never have benefited Ann or her children when she marries. A more heartless piece of idiocy I never met, burn me if I did. You have told Doctor Syn about the Tontine? I presume so, else he would not trouble to come forth.'

'Yes, he knows all about it,' whispered Jones.

'Then he's as big a fool as you,' whispered Dolgenny in return. 'He knew that you and you only stood between him and a vast sum of money, and through your own obstinate curiosity he sees you all but murdered by other hands than his. Had I been in his shoes, I should have found it impossible to cut those ropes.'

'I do not doubt that for a moment, Tarroc Dolgenny,' said the lawyer sternly.

'Doctor Syn happens to be a man of honour.'

'I rather think I shall soon be able to give the lie to that,' whispered Dolgenny. Then in a louder note he went on, 'And now to your own affairs.

Two winds blew me here in your wake. One good, yes, very good. The other not so good. In fact, bad. Distinctly bad. At least so I think you will take it. Which will you hear first?'

'Both, man, both and quickly,' urged the lawyer.

'Your adorable Ann—'

'No harm has come to her?' asked the lawyer sharply.

'Don't interrupt,' drawled Dolgenny. 'Your adorable Ann is now my adorable Ann. She has consented to marry me.' Jones stopped dead in his walk and faced Dolgenny. 'That would be the worst news I could imagine,' he said. 'Thank God I know it for a lie.' Dolgenny had put his arm through the lawyer's and with sheer strength compelled him to walk on. 'So I am happy, my friend, and as to Ann, why, she is more radiant in her happiness than I have ever known her. How true that old saying is—by the way is it out of the Bible?—Out of evil, good cometh. I forget. Anyway, it's true. For it was the tragedy that brought us to an understanding. She turned to me in her distress, and I was able to turn her grief into joy.'

'What tragedy? What distress? What grief?' asked the bewildered Jones.

'Ah yes! Of course, you don't know. Then let me tell you. The name of your brother's house at Portmadoc should be changed.'

'What? Why? You mean Bron y Garth?'

'Welsh for Breast of the Precipice. No need for me to tell you why.'

'Of course not,' snapped the lawyer. 'Because the house is built behind the Breast Rock, which juts out over the estuary.'

'It juts out no more,' sighed Dolgenny. 'The Breast Rock crashed on to the estuary beach. What is it? A thousand feet?'

'But my brother? Quick, man! Tell me the worst.' Dolgenny continued sadly and slowly. 'Do you know that I often used to watch your brother sitting on the edge of that rock. From the top of my tower I command a great view of the estuary. I am a good mountaineer, but I confess that sight ever gave me the vertigo. I was in the drawing-room with Ann when it happened. For the hundredth time I was proposing, and I confess she was, by sheer force of habit, refusing me again. Suddenly I heard a noise like shale falling down the cliff. Ann asked if it was hailing; it did sound like hailstones.

Then there came a rending, cracking noise, followed by a roar, several crashing bumps, and then as it were a peal of thunder. I looked at Ann, and she at me, and I could see that all her quarrel against me had gone to the face of such a disaster, for we both knew then what had happened. “The Rock has gone over,” I remember saying, and she nodded, then with a scream cried out, “Uncle Hugh! Uncle Hugh!” I tried to calm her by saying that although it was a favourite seat of his, I could take my oath that he was not sitting there when I entered by the terrace door. She then said that I had been talking for a good quarter of an hour, and that she knew he much have gone out upon the Rock during that time. “For look,” she said, “the waters are beginning to rush back over the estuary, and he always watches to see in what direction that Devil's Larder will shift. Quickly, Tarroc, we must get down there and see.” She seized my hand and we raced from the house together like frightened children, and yet I confess that my heart was selfishly singing despite the horror, for she had called me by my Christian name for the first time in our acquaintance, and she was holding my hand as we ran. There was a chance that we could get to Portmadoc Quay in time to summon help before the tide swept up, but this she would not have, urging that we must do it ourselves, and it would be quicker to descend by Borth y Gest. She was right. It was quicker. But the hamlet was deserted. Not a soul in sight! The men were at work n the slate quarries, and the women—well, what could they do? No, the task was mine, and I begged Ann to wait on the rocks till I had finished. She must have known the horror that would confront us, but she was determined to share it with me. “He is past help, but at least I can help you.” At that I lost all fear of the nauseating sight awaiting us, for she meant clearly that as she could count on me, so must I depend on her. So on we raced, over the beach, and jumping from rock to rock around the promontory. I will spare your feelings, my dear fellow. Suffice it to say that the sight was more dreadful than we had imagined. It was too much for my brave Ann. She gripped my hand the tighter and then collapsed. I laid her on some soft sand against a rock, and bathed her forehead from a pool. She opened her eyes and whispered, “Oh, I can't help!” I told her to hide there while I went to do what I could. As much of the mangled body as I could wrench from the broken rocks upon it, I laid on a ledge to which I climbed, above high-watermark. It was enough for identification. By the time I returned to my beloved, my fine suit in which I had gone a-wooing was in a deplorable state, and I conjectured that she would shrink from me. Just the contrary, my good fellow! Women are strange creature. Her uncle's blood was on me, and I know she loved me more for doing him that last service. She knew that I had always borne a great respect for him, though he had shared your aversion against me. Well, he was a greater man than either of us, you'll own. I do most willingly. I then had to make up my mind quickly what to do. Ann was in my arms, clinging to me like a frightened child. She was half-swooning and had not the power to speak, but the manner of her embrace cried out to me for protection. I looked up at the slate-grey precipice of Bron y Garth, gloomy and forbidding in the shadow. Across the bay my own promontory caught the setting sunlight in its gorgeous foliage. That way spelt peace, the other stark tragedy.

The problem was, could I cross in time before the sea rushed in? It looked near enough, but as you know the evening light is deceptive there, and has been the death of many a stranger. I wondered whether I could gain time on the tide by mounting the precipice the way we had come down and annexing your brother's horse from the stable. I dismissed this idea immediately. I knew that I was unpopular with the servants, who would show me no favour, and would certainly prevent me carrying their master's niece across Tremadoc Bay, and I was determined not to be robbed of my prize now I had won her. But before making the attempt, I must locate the Devil's Larder. For the past two months the live top of that death-chamber had been more than ever volatile, shifting like a great octopus with every tide some hundreds of yards. It had travelled Harlech way, and back again, and had to my knowledge twice crossed the river bed to lie beneath your brother's cliff. I could always find the old devil from my side, just as your brother could from his. He had told me his method many a time in fierce argument when I had disagreed to anger him. But I knew that he was qualified to judge from Bron y Garth. If only I could have plucked the knowledge from that dead brain behind me. I could only apply his system, which I did.'

'Be brief, man,' urged Jones. 'What happened?' The little man was in a fever of anxiety, since the informal procession to dinner had already entered the private residence of the squire, who was leading the way towards the library, so that his guests might have drinks while waiting the announcement of the meal.

They had been, and were, moving very slowly, for both the squire and Doctor Syn kept stopping to point out some old map or print upon the walls.

Doctor Syn purposely lingered in front of Dolgenny and Jones, for he was very much in mind to hear the completion of the story, and he was thankful that the Court House was such a rambling old building.

Dolgenny was laughing at the reproof from Jones. 'Why, man, you were long-winded enough in your evidence. Let me tell my tale in my own fashion.'

'I want to know what has happened to my niece,' replied the agitated little man.

'She is recovered, and well, and vastly in love with your humble servant.' Dolgenny looked at Jones and made a wry face. ''Fore Gad, but there is one point in our marriage that I never considered. You will be my uncle-in-law. I trust you will not be too dictatorial. There is no hurry I perceive, my uncle. This is not the dining-hall, but the library. We are to be served with sherry or negus.

So keep your attention on me, and then well-mannered gentlemen will not interrupt our talk. As I was saying, I watched the flow of the waters as I had seen your brother do. I concentrated on their movements from the deeper pools and from the river banks. I searched the ridges for sand that had no white drift passing the yellowness in the evening breeze. At last I found it. The usual shape like a giant octopus with waving arms of writhing treacherous sand. I knew where the Devil's Larder lay and could avoid it, for I knew it would no shift to any great extent till the tide was full and on the turn. Carrying Ann like a baby in arms, I plunged through the beach lagoon, raced across the sand to the river and forded it. The water reached to my armpits, but I only thought of keeping Ann as dry as possible. Across I ran like the cockle-fishers, zig-zagging along the higher ridges, and all the while the estuary was turning from yellow sand into swirling waters, and the breakers kept rolling towards us on our left, as though to drive us into the Larder on our right. The only sound was the rush of waters, the screams of sea fowl, and cries of people far behind me which I took to be the servants of Bron y Garth, either lamenting the disaster or cursing me for carrying off my prize.'

'Well, you got through, since you are here,' interrupted Jones. 'One can always trust Dolgenny to save his skin, but what of my niece whose life you so selfishly risked? Your own part does not interest me overmuch.'

'Your niece nearly drowned. We both did. For suddenly I realized with horror that the Devil's Larder was shifting and coming towards us as rapidly as the waves were rolling in. Your brother had said it could not happen. He was wrong. I turned my back upon the quicksands and stumbled on towards the waves. Between us was Hermit's Island, always the last spot to disappear at high tide. When it was abandoned years ago because of the encroaching tides, they left enough stone upon it to make it firm. I had cursed it, as you know, as a danger to shipping, but now I blessed it. Once the sand got me over the knees, but there was some wreckage round the base of the fast-disappearing island and by this I was able to drag our way. The bit of land was firm enough, and I laid Ann down and sat beside her to gain strength for swimming. How I welcomed the respite for I was determined not to leave our refuge till we were swept off it. By then the water would be deep enough to pass over the Devil's Larder if need be. As I watched the waters, I divested myself of coat, waistcoat, and cravat. I kicked off my buckled shoes too. Hearing a sigh behind me, I turned and saw that Ann had not only recovered consciousness, but had so far understood the perilous situation that she was unfastening her heavy velvet riding habit. “It will drag you down,” she said. I thanked her and told her that in the face of peril one need not be over nice. I told her that I was waiting for deep water before swimming to Port Merion and my castle and hers. She kept her habit round her till the last minute, then, as the waves lapped about us, a bigger one than we had seen swept my clothes from the rock. She then dropped her frock behind her and quickly entered the water. She swam well, and for the first quarter of a mile employed a strong breast stroke, but the moment she turned to rest by swimming on her back, I followed suit and took her head in my hands. We had only to keep afloat and the rushing tide bore us to land.'

'And you took her to your castle?' asked Jones.

'You don't think I would have left her on the beach for the night, do you? Now, we rested for a few minutes and then I picked her up and carried her through the woods. She was a brave girl, for it was embarrassing for her entering my home, for the first time since her mother died, in sea-soaked undergarments. As I rang the bell, I told her not to worry, because I had always loved her, and it was then that she looked at me unafraid and said, “I love you as well”. I handed her over to the care of my house-keeper, and in half an hour's time or so we met in my dining-hall, and she in the daintiest evening frock you could imagine. I did not know such finery was in my place. She then wrote a note while waiting for dinner, in order to put the servants at Bron y Garth at ease about her safety, and I promised her that when I had given evidence at the inquest, I would ride south and inform you of all that had happened.'

'You had not the right to take her to Port Merion,' protested Jones.

'Come now, consider, sir,' urged Dolgenny. 'The child had no parents. The master of Bron y Garth was lying dead. The servants would no doubt be all hysterical. And her rightful guardian was getting into scrapes on Romney Marsh. At least I did my best to comfort and protect her. She has thanked me, and so should you. And since you cannot marry your own niece, why all this jealousy when you hear that she is going to marry me?'

'Because I do not credit your story, Tarroc Dolgenny,' answered Jones decisively.

With the exception of Doctor Syn, who had listened unobtrusively to all this conversation, no one else had taken any heed of the two strangers to Dymchurch, for the library was a scene of much activity. Everyone seemed to be talking at the top of his voice in order to be heard above the buzz and chatter, and while the squire's footmen moved from group to group proffering drinks, the gentlemen's personal servants, who had accompanied their masters to the session, assisted their lordships to disrobe, for their greater comfort at dinner, and with the removal of official gowns and swords, which were carried to an ante-room, general talk became less restrained, as jests were bandied from wit to wit, until the assembly was as hilarious as any host could wish. The squire, leaning heavily upon his stick, stood by the great fireplace and joked about his gout, affirming with many a wink that, had he consumed more good liquor instead of Doctor Pepper's poisonous physics, he would not be so afflicted as he was at present. Around him the groups gravitated, and Lord Noel, who had said all he had to say about sermons, accompanied Sir Henry Pembury to pay respects to their host, thereby leaving Doctor Syn alone, and with no excuse for further eavesdropping. He therefore pretended to notice the Welshmen for the first time since entering the library, and at once proposed that they should recharge their glasses and accompany him to drink a personal toast to the squire, and he signed to a footman to fill up.

'And as a student of law and order, sir,' he asked Dolgenny, 'what do you think of our form of procedure on Romney Marsh? A little quaint to you, no doubt, but you must appreciate that ours is a very ancient as well as independent Court of Justice.'

'I was more than interested, Doctor Syn. I was vastly intrigued. Quaint? Yes, but very picturesque. I fear, however, that this present scene would greatly shock the susceptibilities of our native mountain hymn-singers. I grant you that, following an inquest or a funeral, the hypocrites will drink as much as you do here, but you would hear no laughter or jesting.'

'I think the reason is, sir,' replied the doctor, 'that the death of a revenue man is by no means a novelty in these parts. The more is the pity!'

'And it is by no means a novelty with us either, sir,' laughed Dolgenny. 'My sympathies are against the revenue. What are their men but “hanging judges”? The common hangman is more honest. Should a revenue man come nosing round my private beaches, I should take it as a declaration of war. I should know that his dearest wish would be to send me to the gallows, whether I am guilty or no. Therefore I should have no compunction in killing him out of hand.' By this time they had refilled their glasses, and Doctor Syn proposed that they should move towards the squire.

'Perhaps, Doctor Syn, you would have the goodness to make my excuses to Sir Antony Cobtree, but I drink his health for all that, and wish him and his village well.' The Welsh lawyer swallowed his sherry and set the glass upon a table.

Dolgenny gave his compatriot a black look and asked, 'Would you bring discredit upon North Wales?'

'I regret that I cannot sit at table with you,' replied Jones.

Doctor Syn, although understanding the situation perfectly, pretended great surprise. 'Are you serious? You will not dine? At least give me some reason and I hope that I may set it right, before giving our good squire offence.' It was Dolgenny who replied quickly, 'The fault is mine, sir, for I sometimes have the most unlucky knack of misreading human nature. I came to Dymchurch with news both good and bad, which I felt it was my duty to deliver. Why the plague I did not keep it till after dinner I do not know. I have blundered. I thought the good news would more than compensate for the bad.

Jones's brother has met with a fatal accident. He is dead. One misses a brother naturally. I lost my two, and know. One went just before my father died, and the other within a week. Both my elders. One fell on Snowden, and the other went drunk to the Devil's Larder. The name of a quicksand, Doctor Syn. I missed them of course, but their absence brought me into a fine inheritance.

And Jones here has the like consolation, for his brother was rich and had a fine practice, all of which comes to our disgruntled friend here, and since I am relieving him of the responsibility of his niece, it will all be extra grist to his own mill. Come, Jones, you will have to go to Wales, and to give you strength you must eat.'

'I will eat, but at the inn,' replied the lawyer coldly. 'I had the greatest regard for my brother, and have the greatest love for my niece.'

'And I reciprocate,' cried Dolgenny heartily. 'A steady hack the one, and a spirited filly, t'other! Shall I help you to the inn?'

'I wish to be alone, and can look after myself,' said the lawyer. 'Perhaps later in the day you might find time to wait upon me, Doctor Syn? I should take it kindly, for I wish to talk to you about the Tontine.'

'Ah yes,' said Dolgenny pleasantly. 'You two gentlemen have a great bond between you. I wager that in future you'll be for ever writing to inquire after one another's health. But I see that they are throwing open the doors of the dining-hall yonder, and I must first salute my host and, I suppose, make excuses for my neighbour's flight.'

'Won't you think better of it, sir, and stay?' asked Doctor Syn. But Jones pursed up his lips, and shaking his head vigorously, relied, 'Never!'

'You will not persuade him, doctor,' laughed Dolgenny. 'When once he makes up his mind, he is as obstinate as any mule or lawyer.' Jones watched him sauntering towards the squire with the sherry-glass held high. 'A mule or a lawyer, eh? Had he said a man of honour he would have been in the right of it. I can hardly breathe the same air as the monster, much less sit at the same table. I dare not tell you the reason yet.' Though Doctor Syn took pains to lower his voice, he said quite casually, 'You mean, of course, that a man of honour does not sit with a kidnapping murderer?'

The lawyer was so taken aback that for the moment he could not reply, and Doctor Syn went on in the same ordinary tone which he knew would not attract so much attention in a chattering room as a whisper would. 'I am sure you are right. Dolgenny murdered your brother, in order to carry away your niece by force.'

'You were listening?' asked Jones.

'I make it a habit,' replied the doctor with a smile. 'I have found it a useful one on Romney Marsh. But this Dolgenny has a certain glamour, and as he said, “Woman are strange creatures”. Is it likely that your niece has become infatuated?'

'It is utterly impossible!' declared Jones with conviction. 'She has always been a girl of set purpose and once she has made up her mind to a thing, nothing will shake her from it. She is as obstinate as I. Out of many followers she loves but one, and my poor brother and I were in full agreement that he was unsuitable. Mind you, I like Harry Thane. He is steady, strong, brave and welllooking, and of good enough family. But he has nothing but the miserable earnings derived from the most unsatisfactory position in North Wales. He is customs officer for the Tremadoc district, and since the local authorities lend him no support, I would not insure his life at any premium. With Dolgenny's gang of rascals watching for him, the poor lad will soon be finding lodging in the Devil's Larder.'

'We must not let that happen, Mr. Jones,' said Doctor Syn. 'Are Dolgenny's rascals faithful to him?'

'They fear him like the devil.'

'That means then that no further harm can come to your niece while he is from home. They would not dare to harm her, any more than he dare harm you till I am dead. But make no mistake, Mr. Jones. The moment you are in receipt of the Tontine, your life is not worth a penny piece. You will be in graver danger than ever this young customs officer. I will see to it that you get to Wales before him. In fact, we will set out together tomorrow by the mail.'

'I had thought of catching the evening mail today,' said Mr. Jones.

'If we go today we shall be overtaken by Dolgenny before we pass through Hythe,' replied Doctor Syn. 'He has his own carriage, for I sent Mipps from the Court Room to find out. When he took my doctor's robe from me just now, he informed me that he had seen the conveyance. It is built for speed as well as comfort, and his cattle are well matched and magnificent. Well, I must see that his conveyance is delayed, for if we get to London ahead of him, we can also purchase a vehicle made fore speed. Get back to the Ship Inn, and order dinner while we are eating here. Then complain to the landlady that you are not well and wish to sleep. Give her strict orders than no one is to disturb you unless it be Doctor Syn, for I shall call upon you later when my plans are formed. But be sure of this, I intend to best Dolgenny and spoil his game.'

Dinner having been announced, the squire moved through the room, asking his guests to follow him. With Dolgenny and Lord Noel on either side of him, he approached Doctor Syn and the Welsh lawyer, whom he addressed sympathetically.

'I am very grieved, Mr. Jones, that you have received bad news. Your friend here tells me that you wish to withdraw to the inn. You know you are welcome to stay, but I shall understand if you prefer solitude.'

'That is my wish, sir, and thank you,' replied Jones. 'I was fond of my brother, and with the exception of a niece for whom I would do anything, I am the last of the family. I have had a sore blow, but your good vicar here has given me such words of comfort that I am determined to be master of my grief for the sake of my niece.'

'I will be along to cheer you up later,' said Dolgenny largely. 'And by the way, inquire for my valet, will you? His name is Pedro. Though Spanish, he talks good English. See that he secures for me the best apartments, for till you are sufficiently recovered from your shocks, and feel well enough to accompany me back to Wales, it seems that I must stay in that ramshackle old place too.' This order Jones ignored, and with a bow to the squire and the vicar he left the room, crossed the hall and went out of the front door.

Dolgenny shrugged his shoulders and remarked, 'Considering that his brother leaves him a small fortune and the best legal practice in Carnavon, I think his grief should be tempered with philosophy.' Throughout the dinner Dolgenny took more than his share in the general conversation, and laid himself out to be amusing. In this he was successful, for after Sir Antony had called the gentlemen to their feet in honour of the Marsh slogan, and all had repeated after him, 'Serve God, honour the King, but first maintain the Wall', the port was circulated freely, and all were in the mood to enjoy Dolgenny's droll stories.

Now, Doctor Syn was seated next to Sir Henry Pembury, the squire of Lympne. This rotund old gentleman was the proud possessor of two daughters, who, by no means getting younger every day, persistently remained single. Sir Henry, wanting them married, had scoured not only the countryside, but London itself for eligible bachelors whom he entertained lavishly. But though many of them were glad enough to accept his hospitality, not one of them had the temerity to ask either of the daughters to accept him in marriage. Well aware of this state of affairs, which was common gossip in the neighbourhood, Doctor Syn saw the possibility of using Sir Henry in order to separate Dolgenny from Dymchurch and his good horses for the night, and so when the whole table was on the roar at another ridiculous anecdote, and Sir Henry was laughing that he had never met so entertaining a young man, the vicar whispered that it was a pity that Sir Henry's young ladies could not meet him; whereupon Sir Henry immediately considered him as a possible son-in-law. He was a very elegant gentleman, that was certain, and not only vastly handsome, but accomplished.

'And very rich,' prompted Doctor Syn. 'I hear that he has everything a man could wish for, except a wife.'

'Perhaps he would like to visit Lympne Castle,' said Sir Henry. 'Is he to be long in the district?'

'I rather think,' whispered the vicar, 'that, with all respect to Mrs. Waggetts, one night at the Ship Inn will send him packing in the morning. And once in his castle in Wales, he will hardly return to poor little Dymchurch.'

'Perhaps in the face of Lympne hospitality,' suggested Sir Henry, 'he might be induced to prolong his stay.'

'He is only staying this night,' explained Doctor Syn, 'in order to rest his horses. He had driven them hard, in order to help his friend, which shows he has good feeling for man and beast.'

Sir Henry, however, grew indignant that Doctor Syn should suggest such a difficulty. 'Plague take it, Parson, but he shall rest his horses, if he is so mercifully inclined. I like him all the better for it. I am not resting mine, because they are not tired. He can leave his here and take coach with me to Lympne. I see no difficulty. As you say, the Ship Inn is not to the taste of a dandy.'

'I think he would wish to be back here tomorrow,' went on the doctor, 'in order to look after his friend.'

'I can send him back tomorrow, can't I?' exploded Sir Henry. 'You have not noticed a scarcity of horses in my stables, I trust?'

'Only on nights when the Scarecrow rides,' laughed the vicar.

'Plague take the Scarecrow and his cattle-borrowing,' snapped the old man.

'I am for persuading this gallant stranger to stay in the neighbourhood and rid us of the monster. Think he would?'

'You can but ask him,' suggested the doctor. 'He seems to be discussing the Scarecrow now with Sir Antony and the General.'

'I'll go and have a word with him,' said Sir Henry, heaving himself up out of his chair.

'Let me fill your glass first, Sir Henry,' said the vicar, suiting the action to the word.

'Thankee, parson! You're a good fellow, and I should not have spoken hastily had you not made so many difficulties.' Sir Henry drank his glass of port and carried the empty glass to the squire's end of the table.

Since another gentleman had left his chair to talk to Lord Noel, Doctor Syn politely offered him his chair and took the vacant one opposite Dolgenny, whom he hoped to hear accepting the invitation for the night to Lympne.

Sir Henry opened his campaign by pointing out the disadvantages which Dolgenny would meet with at the inn. He then painted a vivid picture of his historic castle, lighting up the gloom of the old rooms with the merry laughter of his lively young daughters.

'But you will not be alone amongst the petticoats, sir,' he went on, 'for Lady Pembury and myself have staying with us two young bucks from Town, officers in the “Blues", sir. My young girls do not take them as seriously as they would wish, and your presence will only add to their heartaches. Still, they are good fellows, and when the ladies have retired to bed, they console themselves with cards and liquor. I confess that their play is not what I term skilful, but they raise the stakes like gentlemen, and lose with a good grace.' Doctor Syn could see that the thought of plucking these officers of their guineas commended itself to Dolgenny, who outwardly confessed that he had not looked forward with much relish to a night at the Ship Inn. His one objection to the arrangement, however, came as a surprise to the vicar, for, after showing delight at the prospect of supping and sleeping at the Castle, and thanking Sir Henry for his thought about resting his horses, which he said was necessary, he added that the visit must depend upon Doctor Syn with whom it was essential that he held a conference, if the vicar would spare him half an hour of his valuable time.

'We'll take him with us,' cried Sir Henry, 'and you can talk in private as much as you like.' But Doctor Syn thought otherwise, and excused himself by saying that the inquiry, and the events which had led up to it, had so wearied his spirit that he was for obeying his physician, Doctor Pepper, and was going to have a quiet and an early night. So it was finally arranged that Sir Henry should return to Lympne alone and order preparations for his guest, for whom he would send a carriage to carry him to the Castle by supper-time. This would give Dolgenny ample time to give orders to his servant to stay at the inn, to inquire after his friend, Jones, and to transact his business, whatever it might be, with Doctor Syn. Soon after this the party broke up, and to the further excitement of the crowd, who all this while had been gaping at the General's dragoons, the great men were helped into their coaches and carriages, in which they were rumbled off to their various destinations, the dragoons escorting the General's coach to Dover.

Dolgenny shortly took leave of the squire and sauntered out towards the Ship Inn, on the understanding that he was to call at the vicarage within the hour.

Sir Antony detained the vicar for a final glass of brandy, and when they were alone he laughed. 'Old Henry Pembury thinks to snaffle Dolgenny for one of his girls! I dislike this Dolgenny wholeheartedly, but I give him credit for liking something better-looking than the Pemburys. But he's a bad man, I think.

Noel knows something of him. Says he has watched him at cards, and that those who play with him make some excuse and do not play again. Now what the devil does he want a private talk with you for?'

'I have no idea,' replied the doctor. 'It may be something to do with the Tontine, or it may be about his boast to catch our Scarecrow for us. I rather think, however, that the Scarecrow would be more than a match for him.'

'And talking of the Scarecrow, who will not take your escape lightly,' said the squire, 'I don't mind owning that I shall feel safer in my mind for you if you do go off to Edinburgh with the Welshman. You might persuade the banker to let you draw the money and go halves.'

'Jones says no to that,' replied the doctor. 'The one of us will have to die to benefit the other.'

'Then see to it that it is Jones, not you,' laughed the squire; after which the vicar took his leave, promising to take supper with the squire.

The faithful Mipps was awaiting his master in the hall, and they walked together to the vicarage.

In the study Doctor Syn told Mipps of the coming interview, and ordered the same arrangements as he had made with Jones. The pistol was placed loaded once more beneath the chair cushion. Mipps was to hide again in the alcove amongst the vicar's robes. He was to listen to everything Dolgenny said, but not to show himself unless signalled to do so by the vicar.

Dolgenny found that he was not popular at the Ship Inn. Even Jerry Jerk, the pot-boy, who was the richer by half a guinea for having given Dolgenny information about the inquiry and how to reach the Court House, ranged himself on the side of Mrs. Waggetts in her refusal to allow anyone but the vicar to disturb the Welsh lawyer. 'A sick man wants a parson in his room, but not a dandy smelling like a cottage front garden. He said no visitors but Parson Syn, and all your fine curls and scent won't make me give way. No, nor the door neither, which he's locked inside, and it's made of ship's oak.' Dolgenny was more angry with Jones than he was with Mrs. Waggetts. So used was he to bullying the little lawyer, that it hurt his pride to know that his victim was no longer afraid of him, and that he should order his door to be barred against him was galling. However, he answered the landlady casually with, 'Gad, woman, I have no desire to see him, and you may tell him so. My call was but a neighbourly courtesy, to see how he fared, and I fear that he will find the fare in this old-fashioned house poor in the extreme. You may add that as I could not stomach the look of the place, I am spending the night at Lympne Castle. My man Pedro will stay here and look after my horses. You will give him the best room in the house, and if you have no Spanish wine to his palate he will be troublesome. I shall drive down tomorrow to see if Mr. Jones is fit enough to take the road with me to London and the North.'

Now since the fat old lady always referred to herself as 'a Romney Marsh girl, through and through' she held the same view as her compatriots born and bred 'under the wall', that anyone born beyond Hythe or the Kent Ditch were foreigners, and needed watching. Therefore a real foreigner was to her quite beyond the pale of decency, and it annoyed her that this magnificent gentleman, Dolgenny, should suggest her giving up her best apartment to a swarthy Spaniard.

'I'll have you to know, sir, that my best rooms is for the allocation of the gentry. Not even for gentlemen's gentlemen, however genteel. But as for Southern cut-throats, like that there Mr. Pedro, I says no. Not even under the same roof would I sleep with him. I'm a lone widow and must look after what God has given me. He'll sleep in an attic above the stables along of the ostlers and such-like.'

'My very good woman,' urged Dolgenny, 'Pedro is my very faithful servant, and no cut-throat. Unless, of course, it amused me to point out a throat, hand him a razor, and order him to deal with it from ear to ear.' At this, Mrs. Waggetts cried out to the pot-boy, 'Jerry, my smelly salts!'

'Pedro would do it, and thoroughly,' went on Dolgenny, 'but as a creature of good taste it would revolt him. And his taste in womankind I vow is as fastidious as my own, and you can sleep in peace with the knowledge that all that God and your parents have given you is safe as far as he's concerned.

Pedro only left his native shores because he could not deal with all the se—oritas that were after him.'

'Then it don't say much for Spanish girls' tastes,' said the old lady. 'I'd not let the likes of him come near me, not if he was ever so.'

'Ever so, what?' drawled Dolgenny, eyeing her through his quizzing-glass.

'Just ever so,' replied Mrs. Waggetts. 'It's a expression.'

Dolgenny laughed and ordered her to fetch him a bottle of Spanish wine to sample.

'We keeps no fancy stuff here, sir,' she replied. 'Customs is too high, and there's no call for such nonsense.'

'Well, then, brandy will do,' ordered Dolgenny.

'I've plenty of good brandy,' said Mrs. Waggetts. 'Both squire and parson say it's of the best.'

'And you don't call it fancy stuff,' laughed Dolgenny, 'since it merely comes from France with no duty to pay.'

'There's duty to pay on all what we gets from the Frenchies,' she snapped.

'I'd pay a lot for the last bottle of cognac on which duty was paid in this house, for I wager it would be ancient.' Dolgenny laughed again at the sharp look she gave him. 'Come, come, you need have no fear of me. I have some fifty retainers in my Welsh castle. Mostly foreigners, they drink what you call “fancy stuff", for even the Spanish sailors on my boats drink the wines of their country. We find no lack of it. Vessels come, and vessels go, as they do here.

What is the revenue for but to be tricked? It makes the liquor the more palatable. I confess I have never yet paid a penny piece to the customs. So I think, my good creature, you can trust me.' But Mrs. Waggetts was too old a bird to be caught and she merely answered, 'If other folk cheats the revenue it's no affair of mine. An honest woman, I pays full price for French stuff, and sells it to my patrons with the least amount of profit possible. But there's no call for fancy Spanish stuff.'

'Well, give the rascal brandy,' said Dolgenny, 'and if you want your score settled, the same room that you would have offered me. I am now going to enjoy a conversation with the Reverend Doctor Syn.' And as he sauntered out towards the vicarage, he wondered whether the vicar would enjoy it too. 'I think not,' he chuckled to himself.

It was Mipps who admitted him to the vicarage, and requested him to wait in the hall while he went to the study to see if his master could be disturbed.

'I fear I shall have to disturb him,' replied Dolgenny, and as he watched Mipps tiptoe towards the study door, he told himself that the good vicar was about to be disturbed more than he had ever been in his life. It was the vicar who came to the door and begged him to come in. Doctor Syn closed the door behind them, and invited his guest to take a seat in the same chair that Jones had occupied a few days before. It had its back to the curtained alcove. A bottle of brandy and two glasses were set out upon a table beside it.

'You will find this to your taste, I think, sir,' he said pleasantly, filling the glasses. 'A present to me from our good squire. He is a great believer in brandy, and after my wetting of the other night, advised me to put as much as I could carry into my system.' He handed a glassful to Dolgenny and was about to pick up his own, when he seemed to remember something.

'Plague take it!' he sighed. 'I knew there was something I had to tell my sexton. Well, never mind. He's gone, and left the garden door open too, and the evening air strikes me as chilly. I'll shut it.' He stepped outside to reach the door handle, and then cried out, 'Hi, Mipps. When you have done those errands will you call in at the “Ship" and leave word that I will wait upon Mr. Jones before supper? Thankee. Oh, and come back and close the garden gate, will you?' Doctor Syn smiled as he closed the garden door and walked over to the table for his brandy. 'An admirable servant is Mipps, but he has a bad habit of leaving doors and gates unfastened behind him.'

'My friend Jones is willing to receive you, it seems,' laughed Dolgenny, 'while he deliberately locks his door against me.'

'I am not altogether surprised at that,' replied the doctor, 'for his manner towards you in Sir Antony's library was something cold and distant.'

'Aye, he'll be more pompous than ever now that he inherits his brother's fortune,' said Dolgenny. 'Clever lawyers, the pair of them, but as men, so dull and obstinate that I never had much patience with them. However, since I intend to marry the niece, a certain toleration was necessary with the uncles.'

'And does this niece share your tender sentiments?' asked the doctor.

'To be honest with you, no. It seems that I have a rival—a young man who is in charge of customs. He is in consequence no friend to me or to my interests.

I think he hopes that Ann will get information out of me, which will help him to bring a case against me. He may be in love with her, or with the money she will inherit from her guardian, this Jones. Although never encouraged by the uncles, he is for ever hanging round about her, and I fancy it is time I dealt with him.

However, at the moment he cannot hold any communication with her, as she is under my protection till her guardian returns with me to Wales. Then I shall use pressure to hasten on our wedding. Once the little vixen is my wife, I will soon stop her biting.'

'Then your story to Jones which I overheard,' interrupted Syn, 'was not quite true, I take it.'

'Not quite,' admitted Dolgenny. 'She was refusing my repeated offer of marriage in the drawing-room, and loading me with more scorn than usual when we heard the rock give way. She ran out to investigate, and I followed.

Providentially she fainted when she saw the crushed body of her uncle, otherwise I doubt whether I could have carried her successfully across the estuary. You will not, however, say anything of this to Jones.'

'In that I shall be guided by my own judgment,' replied Syn coldly. 'Since you are by no means penitent, I cannot view this information as a confession of a sinner to a parson. My silence, therefore, is not binding.'

'Before I have done, you will find, Doctor Syn, that your silence will be compulsory.'

'Then, sir, you had better say no more, for I submit to no compulsion against what I consider to be my duty. I will continue the task I set myself when you have gone.'

'What task, parson?' asked Dolgenny.

'I was scanning the list of my parishioners. It is here before me in this book.

I have been weighing them up name by name, and asking myself whether there is any possibility of one of them being this scoundrelly Scarecrow. So far each name has cleared itself according to my judgment of humanity.'

'A very creditable task, parson, and one that I shall help you with. I set myself the same problem in the Court House. I felt certain, as I heard the evidence, that the Scarecrow was amongst us, hidden beneath a personality that no one would suspect. I first of all weighed up the villages, and dismissed the lot. There was no brain there that could direct so vast a scheme. I searched for a clever head that could organize and lead. At the same time for one that no one would associate with crimes against the law. The magistrates, in turn, fell short of the requirements. Neither the squire nor Sir Henry Pembury possessed the figure or height of the Scarecrow as described by Jones. Lord Noel was not the type; he is lazy. Besides, he spends more than half his days in Town. I discarded them all one by one and it left me with only one, and that one with the best disguise of all, and whose office would excuse his presence at nights upon the Marsh.'

'You don't mean Doctor Sennacherib Pepper?' asked the vicar.

'I do not,' answered Dolgenny decisively. 'I mean the parson, the Very Reverend the Dean of the Peculiars, such an apt name too, the tall, elegant, and accomplished Doctor Syn, who could play the parish priest by day, and ride the Marsh at night.'

Doctor Syn laughed merrily. 'Really, Mr. Dolgenny,' he chuckled, 'you are letting your ingenuity run riot. Perhaps you would like to inspect my Ordination Papers, and my Certificated Degree as Doctor of Divinity from the University of Oxford? I have them in this room.'

'I am quite sure you would have everything in order,' smiled Dolgenny.

'Perhaps then your inventive genius will explain how it was that, in the company of your friend Jones, I was confronted by the Scarecrow and afterwards nearly killed by him. You will own it is impossible to be in two places at once.' Dolgenny smiled again. 'I confess that puzzled me so much that I almost gave you a clean bill. Then came the evidence of the man with the bandaged head. It was obvious to me that he was speaking the truth, and that you were very anxious to put him wrong. Your faithful henchman Mipps, who of course is in the know with you, was equally anxious to support you against the man, and then the squire's irritation rescued you. Of course he did see you earlier in the night upon the Marsh, and I suggest that you rode out under the guise of visiting that sick woman, in order that you might change your clothes and pony for the Scarecrow's rags, and the fiery black horse. I suggest that you then galloped back to rescue the highwayman, that it was you who gave orders that Jones was to be set half-way to Dymchurch and dismounted on the sea-wall; that it was you who hanged the Hythe officer, and then, having given your disguise to someone else to wear for you (and I suggest it was the highwayman), you returned to the vicarage and convincingly allowed Jones to wake you from sleep. I think I may take it for granted that you will not wish me to tell my version of what happened to the squire and parish?' Doctor Syn smiled back at Dolgenny. 'And I think I may take it for granted that you will be wishing to return shortly to your castle in Wales and to the young lady you have there under lock and key? Tell your version to the squire, and he would immediately lock you in the Court House cells, for he has the authority to imprison any dangerous lunatic upon the Marsh.' Dolgenny fingered his glass and held it up against the evening light that came through the casement. 'Doctor Syn,' he said calmly, 'I have the greatest respect for any rascal of genius, and upon my soul, I think you are the most entertaining I have ever met. Far from wishing to ruin you, I am going to propose that we throw in our lot together. I think we shall come to an agreement. But first give me the private satisfaction of hearing you say that I have hit the right nail upon the head. You can deny it afterwards in public, if I should repeat what I have told you. There is no witness here to prove you have admitted it. Now, be the sportsman that I take you for, and I will gladly drink your health in this excellent Scarecrow brandy. What do you say?'

'Mr. Dolgenny,' replied Doctor Syn casually, 'I too have a knack of putting fantastic problems to my brain, which I am able very often to turn into facts. I will put a question to you before I answer yours. You may answer it truthfully and deny it afterwards, for, as you have pointed out, there is no witness here to support one or the other of us.'

'Aye,' nodded Dolgenny. 'It is one man's word against the other, and that will not cut ice beneath either of our feet. What is your question?'

'Suppose I preface it with a statement,' said the vicar. 'Hearing your story as you told it to your lady's guardian, I tried to put myself in your place, and supposing myself as unscrupulous as I think you to be, I asked myself how I should have acted. The guardian of the lady I am determined to marry has gone on a long journey. He places his ward with his brother, who is no friend of mine. If I can get the girl and get rid of the uncles, a great fortune awaits me through my wife. The uncle she is staying with has a stupid habit of perching himself upon an outjutting rock over a precipice. How can I force the rock over the precipice with him upon it? I cannot. It would take men with crowbars to lever it over, and he would turn and see them. Perhaps I cannot trust them to carry out the murder successfully. A bungle would be fatal. I must do it myself.

I must also protect myself with a convincing alibi. I must throw him over first, and then enter the house. If he screams I trust that the noise will be lost in the screeching of the sea-birds. While I am talking in the house, my men are levering up the rock. I am in the house when it crashes. I then rush out with the girl, and we find the body below, with the great rock broken on the top of it.

The girl being alone, I take her from the tragic scene to my own castle. I have her there close guarded, and seek out the other uncle with the news. The next problem will be, how can I get rid of him too, with safety to myself? That is my statement. Now for my question. When your victim fell, did he know that it was you who murdered him?' Dolgenny raised his glass and with it saluted Doctor Syn. He then said, ''Pon my word, the more I see of you the better I like you. And since I am now determined that we work together, I drink to your very good health.' He emptied his glass at one gulp, and setting it on the table, proceeded to refill it.

'We are both ingenious rogues, doctor, for it seems that we both unmask the other's secret. Now listen to what I say to you alone. You are in the right of it. I did murder Ann's uncle. I did it deliberately and with premeditation. I knew when I should find him on the ledge. I knew that at the same time Ann would be in the drawing-room, and the servants' quarters were on the farther side of the house. The gardeners would be at their evening meal. I did not pass the lodge gates, but entered the grounds by way of the fields, along which, upon the sea side, runs a spinney. In this wood I hid six of my men armed with iron bars.

They all knew what was required of them. Presently along comes my victim, with a spy-glass under his arm. With no regard to danger, and no fear of dizziness, he walks straight out upon the Breast rock and halts upon the very edge of it. He then adjusts his spy-glass and begins systematically to sweep the estuary. Leaving my men, I crept along the spinney and came out behind him.

He did not hear me. You conjectured rightly, doctor, that the sea-birds would be screeching. And so they were. I stepped upon the rock. I was behind him now only about a yard and a half. In my hand I carried my cane. It was a long one with a gold snuff-box fixed like a knob on the head of it. I advanced this till within an inch of the small of his back, holding the cane firmly with both hands. Then, bracing myself, I pressed it home and pushed with all my strength. He seemed to stagger out into space, but as he went, he turned and grabbed the head of the cane. It was then for a second that our eyes met, and he knew that I had deliberately killed him. I wrenched the cane away, and down he went out of sight, but when I looked at the cane I saw to my horror that the snuff-box knob had gone. Was it in his hand? I thought not. He would drop it as he had already dropped his spy-glass. My next thought was how to hide the cane itself, for I could not carry it into the house and leave it with my hat in the hall. The servants would ask me what had happened to the knob. That cane of mine was known in the neighbourhood. Close to me I saw a marrow bed. I knew that it would not be dug until the marrows were eventually plucked, so into the soft manure on which they rested, I thrust my cane. It was a very good emergency hiding-place. I marked the spot in the heap and determined to retrieve it later. Also I knew that I must find my snuff-box on the rocks below.

Doctor Syn, I never had the opportunity to retrieve them, and that is a thing you will have to do for me. I then summoned my men to get busy, made a quick detour, and coming through the drive gates so that the lodge-keeper would see me, I strode up to the front door and inquired for the very man I had just killed.

The maidservant told me that she thought he was in the garden, but that Miss Ann was in the drawing-room. So to the drawing-room I went, and the rest you know. My men took about a quarter of an hour to heave the rock after the dead man, then they quickly made themselves scarce. That is the truth as I will admit it to you in private, so tell me also in private, am I not right about you being the Scarecrow?'

'Tell me, Mr. Dolgenny, did you ever hear of Captain Clegg?' Although looking surprised at the change of subject, Dolgenny asked, 'You mean the notorious pirate, who never made a mistake, until he was caught and hanged at Rye? I confess he was the hero of my boyhood dreams. He certainly influenced my way of life.'

'He made no mistake, Dolgenny,' replied Syn. 'Above the chimney-piece there hangs his harpoon. You may have heard that I visited the wretch in prison, and exhorted him to repentance upon the scaffold. But he made no mistake, Mr. Dolgenny, and no one on earth can bring him to life. But he rides the Marsh at night for all that, Mr. Dolgenny. And still he never makes mistakes. No canes and snuff-boxes lying about to hang him. And that is why the Scarecrow will never be caught.'

'You mean that Clegg is the Scarecrow?' asked the astounded Dolgenny.

The vicar rose, and, bowing politely, added, 'And Doctor Syn, very much at your service.' An expression of genuine admiration spread over Dolgenny's face, as he muttered, 'My God, that's clever! And it binds us together. Whether the squire would believe me or no, I take it you would not wish me to lay this information against you?'

'I told you that Clegg never makes mistakes,' replied the vicar. 'I should have two alternatives, both of which would silence you. Either I could keep you here till dark and then hand you over to be dealt with by my Night-riders, or accompany you to the Court House, and watch the squire make out the Warrant of Arrest for Tarroc Dolgenny, murderer.'

Dolgenny sneered as he asked, 'How would you detain me till after dark? I am a strong man, doctor.' As he said this he slowly got up from his chair and eyed the vicar shrewdly.

Doctor Syn, leaning over the back of his chair, suddenly threw down the cushion and covered him with his pistol. At the same time he rapped out the order, 'Sit down!' Dolgenny scowled, but obeyed. 'And now for the alternative. I dare say,' went on the vicar with a smile, 'that you are thinking, “He has no witness to prove my confession of murder, eh?” It was yourself who insisted that we could not harm each other without a witness. But I am a little more thorough in my methods than you are, Dolgenny. Mipps! Turn round, Mr. Dolgenny.' The wretched man turned to see Mipps covering him with a pistol in each hand, and he was wise enough to do the only thing possible. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 'I know when I am bettered.'

'Good,' replied Syn. 'Now tell me your proposition.'

'Before I saw you,' said Dolgenny, 'my object was to get you up to Edinburgh to identify yourself as Jones's rival in the Tontine. I had planned a visit to Wales for you on your homeward journey. To liven up your stay, I planned my marriage to Ann Sudden. Then an unfortunate accident occurs, and our beloved guest, Doctor Syn, is dead. Your death certificate is sent to Edinburgh, and the Tontine money belongs absolutely to Jones with my wife as his heiress. I then had a problem to set myself which would have taxed my ingenuity and given me an endless amusement. From a clue discovered, it comes out that the good Doctor Syn did not die by accident, but by murder.

Events and clues keep piling up, the guilt always pointing to the one man who had a strong motive for wishing him dead. Our friend Jones now locked up in the Ship Inn, is locked up in the cells. He is tried. He is hanged. The money goes to my wife, and so comes to me. That was in short what I had planned, sir, and I am now about to amend it, and make a bargain with you which will be to your advantage and to mine.'

'Let me hear,' said Doctor Syn.

'Although working very differently from the Scarecrow of Romney Marsh,' went on Dolgenny, 'I have for years been building up a more than profitable business against the revenue. On my wild mountain coast, the customs are not taken seriously. Neither are they equipped to interfere with my organization.

My castle stands upon my private peninsula. It is protected by thick woods as dense and treacherous in bog land as an African jungle. It is further strengthened at high tide by the sea, and at low by a river and shifting quicksands. The narrow neck of land which joins us to the mainland is protected by great medieval walls and ramparts. I could stand siege from an army or a navy. Even under a blockade they could not stop me going and coming as I please. Neither would they ever find the wealth that I have amassed. My treasury is well hidden, and could be moved out under their noses, and they none the wiser. Doctor Syn, there is money there to fit out many a tall ship which could do business for us off the foreign coasts and on the high seas too. Collect your Tontine money, throw in what share you like, and I will equal it, and we'll see if there is money left in piracy.' It was now the sexton's turn to put in his word. 'Aye, vicar, the gentleman's in the right of it. Singing amens is all right when you wants to lie low, but give me the singing in the rigging, the chanties, and the howling of the gale.' Doctor Syn smiled and, addressing Dolgenny, explained his sexton's enthusiasm. 'Mr. Mipps was Clegg's carpenter and right-hand man.' Dolgenny once more re-filled his glass, and said, 'Gentlemen, I would not feel more honoured taking a drink with the King himself. Come, doctor, we must remove this Jones as soon as possible, collect your Tontine money, and then adventure on a large scale. We'll start for Wales tomorrow, and 'fore Gad, we'll have the wedding as soon as we arrive. No difficulty about that now, for you shall be the priest to marry us.'

'No difficulty at all, Mr. Dolgenny,' laughed Syn. 'I can draw up the licence here and take it with us. You leave me to deal with this Miss Ann. I'll talk to her to such effect that she'll sign her marriage lines with as much joy as any bridegroom could desire. But we must conform to the Rules of the Brotherhood and sign Articles. That we can do in Wales when we have formed our plans, but we can take our first pledge now, by the exchange of tokens. I see you wear a signet ring with a coat of arms upon it. A family ring like this of mine, no doubt. Is it known to your servants, I wonder, with the like respect as this is? You would not want for anything on Romney Marsh if you could show this ring.'

'And with mine on your finger,' boasted Dolgenny, 'my servants, finding you cast ashore upon my rocks, would give you the best in the castle. Without it they would as likely cut your throat.'

'It is but a sign of good faith,' went on the doctor. 'Honour even amongst thieves, eh, Dolgenny? On the signing of our pact, whatever it may be, we give them back again.' They exchanged rings, but further conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door with the news that Sir Henry Pembury's carriage was awaiting Dolgenny in the yard of the Ship Inn.

'You will play cards till the small hours,' said Doctor Syn, 'so we will not expect you till the afternoon. Now that we understand each other, there is no immediate hurry to reach Wales. I take it that the girl is safe, and not likely to be rescued by her customs officer?'

'She's safe enough!' laughed Dolgenny. 'Young Thane will never get within a mile of her, without his throat is cut. I warrant he'd like to wear that ring of mine upon his finger!'

'There is not much chance of that,' laughed the doctor. 'Neither is there any chance of your cane being found. At least, not till the marrows are cut, and the snuff-box either fell into the sand below where it would be swept by the tide, or it may have caught in some fissure of the cliff. Did you find the spy-glass by the body?'

'I never thought of it,' admitted Dolgenny, 'till this minute. I know he dropped it as he clawed the air, but where it lies now I have no idea.'

'Well, since the tragedy appears so obviously an act of God,' said Syn, 'I hardly think that anyone will search the face of the rock for something they do not know exists. No, there is no haste as far as Wales is concerned, so if you find that you are plucking Sir Henry and his guests of their stakes, you may care to stay there for another day. Personally I shall have a lot to arrange before leaving my parish, and would be glad of more time.'

'Should I not return to the inn by three o'clock you will know that I am staying on at Lympne,' said Dolgenny. 'But urge Jones to be a little bettermannered towards me, or his presence in my carriage going north will be plaguey irksome.'

'You can leave me to deal with Mr. Jones,' replied Doctor Syn, a remark which made Dolgenny laugh as he left the study.

Mipps ushered him out of the front door, and then returned to the vicar.

'Close the door, my good Mipps. Drink a glass of brandy and then tell me what you make of all that?'

'Nothing, sir,' replied Mipps to the question. 'Why you told him all them things what we always remembers to forget, I has no idea.'

'Because, my good Mipps, I wished to get this ring upon my finger.'

Mipps scratched his head to show that the vicar's explanation meant nothing to him. 'And why you should let that scoundrel walk off with your family ring and wants to wear his instead, I shall never understand.'

'Oh yes, but you will,' returned the vicar. 'In the first place I am going to Wales on an errand of mercy. I am going to right a wrong, and in order to do that, this ring was necessary. In short, I am going to play a hand for Mr. Jones's niece, and for the customs officer. You must own it will be refreshing to be on the side of the law for a change. When I have safeguarded their interests, I shall play for Dolgenny's highest stakes, and if I cannot strip this gambler, this coldblooded murderer here, then Clegg has lost his cunning.'

'And never that, I'll swear,' chuckled Mipps. 'Queer sort of a quest we're going after, vicar! What with damsels in distress, customs officer expecting our help, and a dandy smuggler, what lives in a fortified castle! Very queer! Now if we can only find out where he keeps his treasury, it will be a quest worth doing of, that is if we relieves him of it. But can we believe what the rascal says?'

'No, Mipps, we cannot,' returned the doctor, 'but for all that I have a feeling that queer things will happen, and that our quest will be amazing. Aye, Mipps! Quite amazing!'