your work.”

Leaving Mipps and the Nightriders to see to the loading of the contraband, the scarecrow and Duloge walked to

the chateau for dinner.

“That was a good idea of yours,” said Duloge, “about the undermining of the cottages. Shall I get my servants to

put that work in hand?”

“Why worry?” aske d the Scarecrow. “They believe it. But you look very troubled, my friend. Why?”

Why?” repeated the Frenchman. ‘Is not this Handgrove on his way to your Admiralty?”

“But it is a long way to London by open boat,” replied the Scarecrow. “He had provisions, of course, but no

money for the road it he lands at a nearer point. Unless he sells the boat to buy a horse.”

“He will do that if he is wise,” said Duloge.

“But the price of a boat will not buy such an animal as I shall ride,” laughed Doctor Syn. “The lugger, too, is

fast. I think that I shall catch him.”

“And if you do not?” asked Duloge ruefully.

“Then I shall wait for him inside the Admiralty,” was Doctor Syn’s reply. “Take heart, my friend,” he added

cheerily. “We have done well. Today we quell a mutiny. Tomorrow we must catch a traitor.”

6

DOCTOR SYN AT THE ADMIRALTY

Lashed with spray, the tall gaunt figure of the scarecrow stood at the lugger’s helm, as she spanked her way through

the choppy waves of the Channel, with a ninety-mile gale behind her straining every stitch of her crowded canvas.

Behind the hideous mask of the scarecrow’s fearsome disguise, his voice kept croaking out orders. “Strike

nothing. She’s lying low but she rides it bravely. I’ll not lose a whistle of this gale. This change of weather is an

omen for our good. Speed will save our necks. Brace up, my merry lads. Brace up.”

On the other side of the tiller stood Sexton Mipps, masked like his master and answering to the name of

Hellspite. He looked up at his tall companion and shouted above the wind: “Ain’t you better turn in, Scarecrow?

It’s getting dark, and we’ll make Dungeness this night, thanks to them mutineers loading us quicker than they’ve

ever done, through fear of you. You’ve a hard night and day ahead of you. I can manage her now.”

“I know it, Mipps,” replied the Scarecrow. The men were forward, and it was safe to talk without being

overheard. “Tell Curlew to keep the course. I must talk to you in the cabin, for I think we have never been in

greater danger than we are at present, and the next two days will decide our fate.”

As soon as the door of the aft cabin was locked behind them, master and man unmasked, and then Mipps realized

by Doctor Syn’s grave face that he took the situation very seriously.

“Aye, Mipps, the danger is as black as the night ahead of us. The occasion calls for brandy.” Doctor Syn

produced a bottle and two pewter measures, which he filled.

They drank in silence, and then Syn refilled the measures.

“Let us view circumstances calmly,” he said, “and then, having settled our course of action, follow it as swiftly as

this gale, which is so fiercely fighting on our side, against our present enemy, Time. First let us state what we know,

then let us guess what we don’t.”

“Certainly, Vicar,” replied Mipps, holding out his measure for replenishment. “Brandy puts heart into one, and

helps us to remember what we know. What do we know?”

“This,” said Syn decisively, pressing his long forefinger upon a chart of the Channel spread out on the cabin

table. “Somewhere ahead of us is Handgrove speeding for London, in order to betray our organization to the

Admiralty. If he succeeds, our contraband-running vessels will be blockaded in the mouth of the Somme, and it will

be death to our vast brandy trade. This we know, and therefore know that Handgrove must be intercepted. Let us

weigh his chances and ours. He had the start of us last night in an open boat. He has but one sail, and he is

singlehanded. He sailed in calm weather, and not being too skilled a navigator we may take it that he wasted time in

tacking which we would not have done. Remember, he was a farmer, not a fisherman..”

“Perhaps this gale has caught him and him to Davey Jones,” put in Mipps.

“We must not bank on that,” went Doctor Syn. “We must suppose that he is still afloat, and by now the gale that

is driving us is also helping him. But we can make more speed than any vessel in the Channel. Now let us put

ourselves in his place. From what we know of him, let us translate his psychology to ourselves. Here is a desperate

man, who for many weary years has been our prisoner back there in the mouth of the Somme. Under our faithful

French lieutenant, Duloge, he has been worked hard, helping to load our cargoes with no thought of gain to himself.

A little while back a fresh prisoner arrives. He is but one more of many who have betrayed the Scarecrow. This

prisoner, Hart, tells his new companions of the great reward offered for information laid against the Scarecrow’s

organization. Covetous for the freedom and money, he determines to escape, and thinks of the chances he has of

stealing one of Duloge’s fishing boats and crossing the Channel. But he realizes that even could he get away in a

boat, his absence would be discovered at the next roll-call. So he enlists the help of his fellow prisoners: organizes a

mutiny, seizes the store-house on the quay, and with the arms and ammunition contained in it, declare a state of

siege, knowing that there can be no roll-call, and that he can escape without being followed by a larger and faster

boat.

“Of course he had to wait for a favourable night to escape, but he must have congratulated himself that he

effected it before Duloge could get our help. Before leaving he exhorts his fellow mutineers to hold out at all costs

till he brings them rescue from the British Navy. He will hurry, of course, because he is eager for his reward money,

but he cannot know that Duloge and ourselves have acted so quickly, raised the siege, recaptured the mutineers, and

are now on his heels. Still, he will hurry for all that, and having no money will sell the stolen boat and with the

money take to the road.”

“Or keep to the water and sail for the London river,” interrupted Mipps.

“He might, but I think not,” went on Doctor Syn. “He is a landlubber and will feel safer ashore. Therefore, he

will try to land this side of Dungeness, for he would not dare to show his face upon the Marsh, since he has too

many enemies there in the men he tried to betray. I suggest he will make for the Sussex coast, and if successful take

to the Hastings-London road. Hart will have told him that our bitter enemy, Admiral Troubridge, who has offered

the reward against us, is at the Admiralty.”

“It was to Troubridge he betrayed his two friends at Dover, and had we not rescued them from their cells, their

necks would have been stretched. He knows that the irate old Admiral will have his face saved if he can discover

our secret harbour in France, for we have fooled the old sea-dog too much in the past. So, Mipps, we will land and

run our cargo as usual, and them make for the hidden stable. I shall be on my way to London before dawn, and at

least far enough from the locality where Gehenna’s magnificence might be recognized. You will follow by coach,

catching the mail from Ashford. I will carry you as far, and drop you before dawn. Meanwhile our men must search

for news of Handgrove. They must make enquiries as far as Hastings. If his boat has not arrive, then we have time

to prevent Handgrove’s interview with the Admiral.”

“Aye, sir,” replied Mipps, “and that will take him time. Didn’t Captain Blain tell us the other day at the