THE SCARECROW RIDES (37 page)

“And so did Mr. Bone the highwayman,” added Dr. Syn, laughing across
the table at Charlotte.

“Oh, and another thing concerning which I have not yet arrived at
the truth. Our Meg Clouder has gone off to Hythe only yesterday and
returned married, if you please—married to some captain who lays claim
to be a gentleman, but who has returned to take up his married quarters
in 'The City of London'. It infuriates me to think of it, and I shall
most certainly have something to say to our Meg.”

“She must have been very lonely there, you know, Squire—” began Dr.
Syn.

But the squire cut him short with: “Oh, you will always find excuses
for everyone, Doctor, but why couldn't the jade let us into the secret?
Our Charlotte called in yester evening to take her a shawl she had
worked for her, and it was: 'Oh, Miss Charlotte, what do you think I
have been and done? You will not be cross with me? You will not let
squire be angry?' Squire angry, if you please, as though I was a
bad-tempered curmudgeon. 'But I've been and got married,' she says,
'and oh, Miss Charlotte, he's a gentleman in fine clothes and rolling
in guineas.'“

“Whereupon,” added Charlotte, “out there steps the bravest looking
gentleman, tall, well dressed and handsome, with the largest red beard
you ever saw. I should not have been surprised had he announced that he
was Clegg the pirate.”

“Instead of Captain Vicosa, known as Captain Vic, eh?” added Dr.
Syn. “For I take it that in these clean-shaven days there are not two
handsome adventurers with red beards in the neighbourhood, and I heard
tell of such a man at the 'Mermaid Inn' last week. I wondered why the
rascal set off so briskly for Dymchurch in a hired chaise.”

“You say 'adventurer' and 'rascal',” said the squire. “Do you know
anything about him then?”

“Nothing at all,” replied Dr. Syn, “except that his companion, who
appears to be a most undesirable colonel, has adopted that rogue Merry
as his particular satellite. No doubt this Captain Vic, as they call
him, heard of Meg through that very rogue.”

“Well, we will keep an eye on him, whoever he may be,” said the
squire. “Let us hope for Meg's sake that he is not so bad after all,
though I suspect a gentleman who marries out of his class as probably
not belonging to the gentry at all.”

After telling the squire all he had heard from the Rye physician
concerning the visitors at the 'Mermaid', Dr. Syn took it upon himself
to visit 'The City of London', where he discovered Meg's husband
already far gone in liquor, and brow-beating not only his pretty wife
but everyone else in the bar-parlour.

Upon Dr. Syn refusing to accept a drink with such a bully, Captain
Vic flew into a rage and damned all parsons in good round terms, which
brought tears of shame into poor Meg's eyes. The vicar however stood a
round of drinks to the men in the bar and proposed Meg's health and
happiness; and when Captain Vic with an oath told him not to be
high-handed in his bar, the doctor turned on him, saying calmly but
sternly:

“I must point out to you, Captain Vic, if that is what you are
pleased to call yourself, that this girl whom you have married so
hurriedly, is well beloved by everyone of us here in Dymchurch, and for
her sake you will do well to behave with the civility which we have
been accustomed to receive in this inn—an inn, let me add, that has
been re-built by loving hands who wished to show their appreciation of
Meg and her gallant husband, who gave his life that others might live.”

“Gave his life for
you
, you mean,” retorted Captain Vic. “I
heard that you were the sole survivor.”

“Perfectly true,” replied Dr. Syn, “but had Abel Clouder had his
way, he would have saved the whole ship's company. Being the sole
survivor, however, makes it all the more my duty to see that Abel's
young widow is happy, and to that end I expect you to help me, or you
may find that we can force you to do this duty.”

There followed a battle of looks between them, but when Dr. Syn
added that he knew something of Captain Vic's reputation in Rye, and
also what he had seen of his companion, Colonel Delacourt had not
predisposed his favour towards that gentleman, Captain Vic cocked his
hat with a flourish and went out to cool his head upon the sea-wall.

The vicar turned to Meg and took her hand. “I am grieved for your
sake that this has happened, my poor child,” he said kindly. “I hope,
however, that the ill-humour of this husband of yours is due but to the
drink he has taken, and that in soberer moods he may learn civility,
but remember this—however much we may humour this fellow for your
sake, woe betide him should the least hint be whispered of any
unkindness to you, and the quicker you make him understand that, why so
much the better for his health.”

And to a chorus of approval from the other men in the bar, Dr. Syn
walked briskly back to the vicarage.

Here, to a late hour, he sat with Mipps, a large surveying map of
Romney Marsh spread out before them, over which they pored, for all the
world like two commanders planning a mighty battle. When the various
dispositions of men, horses and pack ponies had been settled, Dr. Syn
produced the brandy bottle, and pledged success to the greatest 'run'
ever planned in the history of the Marsh smugglers.

“And if your leaders carry out these orders to the letter, I can see
no flaw in the campaign, my good Master Carpenter. And now for the
greatest surprise of all. We have, as you know, allowed Captain Faunce
and his Dragoons to know that these preparations are being made for the
night of the full moon.”

“Aye, sir,” interrupted Mipps, “and I still fail to see why we had
to let 'em know. No doubt you have some good reason.”

“The very best of reasons, my good Mipps,” went on the vicar. “It is
essential that the Dragoons, or at least a few of them, should be
witnesses of the robbing of that coach. In order to establish the fact
that Jimmie Bone is not the Scarecrow, they must see the Scarecrow rob
the highwayman.”

Mipps nodded and scratched his impertinent-looking nose. “We seem to
be doing a good deal for this fellow Bone, don't we, sir?”

“He will have his uses later, believe me,” replied Syn. “Your
rumours about the Scarecrow put him into an awkward fix, and it pleases
me to extricate him, so upon that night nothing must go wrong, and
nothing left to chance. That is why, like a wise stage manager of a
playhouse, I have called out the men three nights before the 'run' to
rehearse in full detail.”

“And that strikes me as being one of the maddest things I ever heard
tell of,” said Mipps. “Of course, you must do as you think, sir, but
own up it's a bit crazy like. I mean to say—rehearsals is all right
for play actors, but rehearsals for a crime against the
Crown—well—oh, I say. Mad.”

“Have you forgotten Clegg's madnesses so soon, my good Mipps?” asked
the doctor sadly. “It was by his craziness that he succeeded. Besides,
that order you sent to the luggers in France, I took good care to
amend. A good dress rehearsal is usually attended not only by the
actors but by the properties. Those thousands of kegs and barrels which
you ordered to be landed empty, I have taken good care shall be full.
In that, we shall not be wasting our money or our time. We shall
accomplish two 'runs' instead of one, that is all, and the Marsh men's
profits will be doubled.”

Mipps slapped his thighs with enthusiasm and was guilty of executing
one or two steps of the sailor's hornpipe. “Now, that's my old
commander talking, blime if it ain't. Two 'runs', oh, my eye.”

“You need not hornpipe, Mr. Mipps. I am well aware that you have
served in the Royal Navy.”

Mipps grinned. “And both nights is to go forward on the same plans,
sir?”

“There is only one difference,” replied Syn. “On the first night it
will be necessary for you and me to command the beach, and when the
pack ponies leave the hills, the Upton brothers will fire the great
beacon from Aldington Knoll, which will bring the luggers in shore. But
on the second night, I shall leave you in command of the beach, and no
one but the Scarecrow himself must fire the beacon.”

Mr. Mipps pulled a long face. “I must say, sir, that in a big affair
like this 'ere, I prefers to ride at your side. Is this alteration
absolutely necessary?”

“Of course it is,” replied Syn. “However careful these guinea
runners may be with their preparations, as Mr. Bone has wisely pointed
out, one must allow for delays with post horses, and until that coach
arrives and puts on its skids at the top of Quarry Hill, Mr. Bone
cannot hold it up, and until Mr. Bone holds it up and gets the sacks of
guineas out on to the high bank on the right side of the hill going
down, the Scarecrow will be powerless to rob him. Just as soon as this
happens and the guineas are safely removed by the Scarecrow's men, why
then the Scarecrow will gallop to Aldington hell for leather and fire
the beacon. See?”

“I see, sir—but—”

“No 'buts,' Master Carpenter. Orders are orders,” snapped Syn.

“Yessir. Orders is orders, and 'ere's my best respec's,” replied
Mipps, draining his glass.

“And don't forget to keep that red-headed bridegroom of poor Meg's
under your spy-glass. Remember, he is one of these double-dealing
guinea runners that are employing our friend Bone.”

“I'll watch him, sir,” replied Mipps. “And at the same time I thinks
we might put someone's spy-glass to watch this 'ere Colonel Delacourt
at Rye. We want to know that he don't go gallivantin' after girls the
same as Red-beard Vic! Suppose his wife dies and then old Waggetts
dies, what he looks more like a-doin' any day, and then the colonel
goes and marries Mrs. Waggetts. Not very comfortable to have a colonel
in one inn and a captain in t'other. I prefers landladies to landlords
when it comes to inns. They're more amenable, if you asks me, sir, to
bachelors like myself.”

“I have thought of setting a watch upon this mysterious colonel
already,” said Syn. “It strikes me that he'll need it when he finds
that the Scarecrow has made off with his guineas, and it seems to me
that the proper person to watch him will be our gallant Preventive
Officer. He will want another Scarecrow to watch when he realises that
he has shinned up the wrong bark after Jimmie Bone.”

This so appealed to Mr. Mipps that he executed a few more steps of
the hornpipe, which were terminated by the vicar refilling his glass.

“By the way, Mipps, I notice that you are wearing your Sunday suit
these days. I am glad to know that you have discarded your old coat,
and I shall be glad to provide you with a new suit if you will order
it. We must have you smart and ship-shape for your Sunday duty.”

“The new suit is ordered and paid for, sir,” replied Mipps. “I gets
two guineas for that torn old suit of mine. We knows that women has
strange notions sometimes, but Miss Charlotte wanting my old black suit
what was going green, and being willin' to give two guineas for it fair
give me a shock. Told me not to tell no one, but I tells my commander,
of course.”

“So she wanted your old suit, did she?” asked Syn, thinking
seriously.

“And what do you think she wanted it for?” went on the sexton. “Why,
to put it in the copper and give it a baking, just as we did aboard the
Imogene
when we run into that plague of lice. Remember?”

“So she put your old suit into the boiler, did she? That's very
interesting.”

“I thought it was rather silly,” replied Mipps. “It wasn't as dirty
as all that. And what she wanted my old suit for and give two guineas
for it beats me.”

But Dr. Syn was thinking of her new black horse, and the two
purchases began to find connection in his mind. For many minutes Mipps
watched his master closely, not daring to move in case he interrupted
the train of thought.

At last Dr. Syn jerked himself out of his reverie.

“I was thinking, Mipps, I was thinking.”

“Never seen you look so serious since the time you marooned that
'orrible mulatto on the coral reef,” said Mipps.

“Ah,” exclaimed the doctor. “We have seen things. We have seen
things.”

“That we has,” returned Mipps. “The glimpse I got of that
red-bearded scoundrel of Meg's put me in mind of something. Remember a
night a few years back in Jamaica when you was dining with a rich
planter?”

Syn nodded. “We sold him a cargo of goods, and I went to collect the
money. He told the authorities who I was, and if you and the lads
hadn't fired the house, I might not be here to-day.”

“Oh, he hadn't caught you. You've got out of worse traps than that
without help.”

“Maybe, but you saved me nevertheless,” returned Syn. “But what put
that in your mind? Meg's husband did you say?”

“Aye, sir. That there planter had red hair, and I never sailed yet
with a red-haired man that I've took to. Something unnatural about red
hair in a man, I says.”

“He was a tall handsome fellow too, was that planter,” added Syn.

It was Mipps' turn to nod. “Bit queer if it was the same, only
growed a beard, for I tell you, I don't like the sound of this Captain
Vic.”

“It would be very queer, Mipps,” replied Syn thoughtfully. “I am
sorry enough for poor Meg as it is, without wishing your idea a fact.”

“But if it is a fact, eh? Oh, well, we'd have to kill him, that's
all. Couldn't have him strollin' about. But my! How he would bleed. Not
that a bit of blood would notice round there now. He's turned Meg's
cellar into a slaughter-house. He was cutting a pig's throat in it last
night with one of the butcher boys. I heard the screams from my coffin
shop, when I was at work on old man Waggetts' coffin.”

“But Waggetts is alive. What are you talking of?” demanded the
vicar.

“Dr. Pepper told me he couldn't last long, so being matey with 'em,
I thought I'd get his box knocked up so as he could see what a treat
I'm making for him. Best pine and brass knobs. Mrs. W. said 'Spare no
expense.' I think old Waggetts will be delighted.”