Had they in run been captured, and he forgotten in the darkness?

He made up his mind that he would tell Polly everything the next day, and he realized on reaching his lodgings

that this course would be necessary, since not only the blow on his skull, but the bruises on his face, where he fell,

would demand an explanation. It was not till after he had washed his wounds that he remembered the piece of paper

which he had put into his pocket. He smoothed it out and read by the light of his candle, Death to all spies by orders

of… And instead of a signature was the crude sketch of a scarecrow.

He had known others who had been warned in a similar fashion, and they had disappeared from the Marsh, and

were never heard of again. The very next day he told Polly everything, under a pledge of silence. She took a very

serious view of it, and made him promise to hold no further communication with Doctor Syn or the Captain, in case

he was further suspected by the mysterious Nightriders, who had spies everywhere.

Strong as he was, the nasty crack on his head made him very ill. He became feverish, and Polly gave up her

work at the ‘Red Lion’, so that she could nurse him at her parents’ house in Dymchurch, promising to marry him as

soon as he recovered. Her family liked him, and were more that satisfied that he would make Polly a good husband,

now that he was a master cooper. They all agreed to keep his presence in Dymchurch a secret, and to that end one

of Polly’s brothers drove them from Hythe in their fish-cart after dark. So, in a few days George Lee began to think

that his misfortune had been a blessing in disguise, and he made full use of his happiness in having his future bride

for his name.

14

THE CAPTAIN SITS UP LATE

The news of the assault upon George Lee was brought to Mipps in the coffin Shop by the very man who had

committed it. When he had finished describing the incident, which in his version spared no praise for himself, he

told the Sexton that in his opinion the Scarecrow ought to be most grateful for his initiative.

“And what’s more, Mister Sexton,” he went on, “you must see to it that the scarecrow is told the full facts at

once, so that he will not be caught out with that cargo of bones. He’ll find some means of stopping it, I’ll be bound,

‘cos he’s clever, just like what he’ll say I be, when you tells him the true facts same as I’ve told you.”

Mipps replied that the Scarecrow could always be trusted to thwart the Revenue men, and although he must

himself decline to discuss this matter, which was the Scarecrow’s business, he would promised that their mysterious

leader would receive the information.

Directly the man had gone, Mipps sought out Doctor Syn and told him what he had heard, adding: “And no

doubt, sir, this rascal is expecting a good reward for his zeal. What do we do?”

“Tell Percy to carry the two aces of clubs in his buckets this very evening, so that the Nightriders may meet at

the Oast House tonight. Pass the word for an hour after midnight, Mipps.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Mipps.

“I have always objected to any member acting violently without my express orders,” went on the Vicar. “For

that type of man becomes a menace to us all. And what is more that man must be punished.”

“Death?” inquired Mipps with relish. “Well, I ain’t sorry. Never took to him myself, I didn’t.”

“I am not at all sure that I should not bring in the same ruling against those like you, Mipps, who think violently

without orders,” replied Doctor Syn.

“Very well, sir. Sorry,” replied Mipps promptly. He looked like a saint receiving a halo, which amused the

Vicar, who promptly poured him out a drink with a sorry shake of his head. Then he smiled genially and added,

“What a comical old rascal you are, Mipps,” and his tone had a note of real affection, “I believe no one delights in

violence so much as you.”

“I drinks your very good health, Vicar,” returned the Sexton, with a grin. “I think we have both had our moments

of violence on certain occasions that must be nameless.”

Percy wa s duly sent out with the summons to attend at the Oast House. Everyone concerned noted the sign of

two aces of clubs that floated in his water-buckets.

That night the Captain sat long over his drinks, and was more chatty than usual. As the clock struck midnight he

still showed no signs of wishing to turn in, though the Vicar made a gallant show of suppressing his yawns that he

was far from feeling. He presented a brave show of the polite host. In reality the Vicar was very anxious for the

Captain to bid him good-night, in order that he might safely fasten his door from the outside against any possible

exodus upon the Marsh. He had no wish for the Captain to take it into his head that an investigation outside the

house might put a stop to some activity on the part of the Scarecrow’s men.

Whether the Captain suspected that some such thing was planned for the night, the Vicar could not rightly

determine.

To ask him deliberately to turn in would be to arouse unnecessary suspicion in his guest’s mind, and yet to turn in

himself, asking the Captain to turn out the lamp, and extinguish the candles, in no way suited his plan.

As a matter of fact, no sooner did the grandfather clock in the hall strike midnight than the Captain proposed this

himself. He said pleasantly: “I see that you are most politely stifling your yawns, my good Parson. Now I happen

to be finding this book most diverting, and as I never make a rule of reading in bed, which I take to be a most

damnably dangerous practice so near the bedclothes, I should like to stay up and read a little further, if you have no

objection?”

Doctor Syn bent down and glanced at the back of the volume which the Captain was reading. He then looked up

at the space in the bookshelf, as though to verify the name of the volume. “Lawrence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, eh

Captain?” he queried. “Well now, as a tutor I have ever had a quick eye for the student. I could always tell when

some young student at the University was really reading or out making a pretence at it, and I rather think that I have

caught you out this night. I can tell you that Sterne would be very disappointed at the desultory attention you have

bestowed upon his pages. I rather think that it is just that you have no desire to go to bed. Perhaps you wish for

another drink, eh?”

The Captain laughed. “You mean that half the time I have been reading I have been chatting about matters that

have nothing to do with the opinions of Shandy, eh? Well, in a sense you may be right. If so it is small compliment

to the author, eh? On the other hand, I should like to point out that our author has gripped me in spite of my

inclinations and I should certainly like to finish this passage of Corporal Trim’s account of the sick lieutenant.”

The Vicar nodded with appreciation. “Well, I confess to being a little sleepy myself, but I will further encourage

Morpheus to give me a sound night by fetching another bottle of brandy from the cellar. Any excuse is better than

none, eh? If you will excuse me but for a minute we will both be at an advantage.”

The suggestion pleased the Captain, since it meant detaining the Doctor a little longer before retiring. At least so

thought the vicar, as with candle in hand he crossed the hall and entered the servants’ quarters. Here he found

Mipps anxiously awaiting him, sitting in the dark close to the rum cask, and with a handy pannikin clasped tightly in

his fingers.

Doctor Syn smiled, and laid a warning finger to his lips. He then whispere d: “The Captain is for sitting up,