sailor, and carrying an atmosphere of important impertinence. And,
again like a ferret, he was quick in movement and comically commanding.
“Glad to make your acquai ntance, Mister Mipps,” said the parson,
holding out his hand.
Mipps wiped his on the skirt of his coat and welcomed his guest with
a hard grip. He then removed the bung from a hand anker of brandy, a
neat little cask bound with brass hoops. Doctor Syn drank with relish,
and returned the anker. Mipps in his turn drank deep.
“Good brandy never hurt nobody,” he grinned.
“No, not even a parson,” replied the Doctor with a smile.
“And I drinks to the Syns o’Lydd,” said Mipps, handing the anker back
again.
- 7 -
“And I drink to you,” returned the Doctor, “and to all Marshmen, and
may the Customs never get a one of them to hang upon the grisly tree of
old Jack Ketch.” Then, looking round the interior of the bastion, he
added: “No wonder you preferred to shoot a Riding Officer rather than
being carried away from here. It is all very cozy. I envy you this
gypsy life. It is adventurous; it is simple and natural.”
“Aye, sir,” said Mipps, looking pleased. “A good clod fire always
burning for food and warmth, and that there hurdle with broom on top for
shelter; what more can a man want?”
“Only brandy, it seems, and that you have,” laughed Syn. “How long
have you been in hiding here?”
“Couple of weeks,” replied Mipps. “Though I’m thinki ng of moving
myself on, and legging it down coast for Portsmouth.”
“What do you want to go there for?” asked the parson.
“To ship for the West Indies,” replied the little man. “Thinking of
working my passage on a man o’war as ship’s carpenter. Then I’ll
desert, ‘cos they won’t want for to lose me, being good at my work, and
then I’ll get down amongst the Brethren of the Coast.”
“You mean go pirating?” asked Syn. “For that’s all they are these
days, I understand. The jolly buccaneers have given place to a scum of
bloodyminded pirates. I suppose as a parson I should rebuke you for
such a wish.”
“Never rebuke a man for wishing to live a man’s life and playing the
man when he’s in it,” returned the other. “There’s good and bad in
every trade, and I expects piracy included. And I’ll play the man with
the dirtiest of ‘em. Small I may be, but I’ve grit sharp as flint. A
life of adventure for me. And from all accounts you gets it there.
Battle, murder—”
“Aye, and sudden death,” completed th e Doctor.
“Aye, aye, sir,” grinned Mipps; “but always allowing that you don’t
shoot first and straight.”
“There’s Execution Dock too,” argued the parson. “Have you thought
of that?”
“It’s better to die in old England at the last,” said Mipps.
“Besides, some of us has been born with a rare talent for escape, and
I’d never believe no one could hang me till I felt myself cut down.”
“A true adventurer, I see,” replied Doctor Syn; “and once more I envy
you. Whether you are boasting of your talents or not, I cannot say as
yet, though it seems that they are to be put to an immediate test.
While we have been talking, I have had my eye on Lympne Castle, and it
may interest you to know that three horsemen are riding down along the
western wall. It is significant to me that they are heading in our
direction, and that their leader is riding a dappled grey, very similar
to mine.”
“Sandgate swine,” hissed Mipps, grasping his blunderbuss. “Well,
I’ll at least prove my boast about shooting first and straight.”
‘You’ll attempt no such folly,” retorted Syn sharply. “Unless of
course you wish to forgo all possibility of becoming a good and bloodyminded pirate. You leave the officers to me, and you may yet see your
battle and murder on the Spanish Main. Hold these, and keep yourself
most religiously out of sight.”
Doctor syn had quickly unbuttoned his long black riding-coat, and
from one of his breeches pockets had taken out a handful of coins. Then
he counted into the little man’s hand, saying: “Three guinea spades,
two crowns and a new fourpenny. Keep them safely and yourself hidden,
or you’ll hang.”
- 8 -
Waiting a few moments till the approaching riders were behind a clump
of trees, he slipped out of the bastion walls and untethered his horse.
By the time the officers had emerged from the trees he was slowly
climbing the hill towards them, and since there were many other ruins
scattered about the hillside, there was nothing to connect with the
bastion occupied by Mipps. Meanwhil e, the fugitive, with his weapon at
the ready, cautiously peeped through a hole in the wall, straining his
ears
to listen to whatever the parson might say. This was easy enough, since
the voice of the officer turned out to be coarse, loud and overbearing,
while that of the parson extremely clear -spoken.
The officer was the first to speak. “Have you seen anything, you,
sir, of a dirty-looking little rat of a man in this immediate
neighbourhood?”
“I was about to put the very same question to you, sir,” replied
Doctor Syn; “for he must have passed within a few yards of you as he
went up the hill but now. I hope for your own sakes that you are not
anxious as I am to lay him by the heels.”
“Considering he’s an approved smuggler and we are Riding Offi cers for
Customers,” replied the officer, “I should say that no one could be more
anxious than we are to shackle him. What’s your quarrel with the
rascal?”
‘Just this,” replied Syn, making a wry face as he turned out the
empty lining of his breeches pocket. “He came upon me unawares, and
relieved this very pocket of three guinea-pieces, two crowns, and a
sliver fourpenny.”
“And you offered no resistance?” asked the officer scornfully. “An
agile man like you, tall, young and commanding, should have been a match
for that little rat. Or did you resist him and let him get the better
of you?”
Doctor Syn shook his head. “I did not resist for two reasons.
First, I am a parson and man of peace. And, Secondly, I preferred to
give him my gold rather than let him give me his lead.”
“Aye, and the revered young gentleman’s quite right,” said one of the
other officers. “That there Mipps would pull a blunderbuss at a man as
soon as I would at a rabbit.”
“Which way did he go? Up the hill, you said? An d it’s just time for
the carrier’s cart to start for Ashford. He’ll no doubt use some of
your money to save his legs. Come on, my lads, we’ll ride him down
yet,” And the officer turned his horse.
“I’ll be vastly obliged if you catch him,” called out the parson. “I
am but now on my way to lodge complaint with Sir Henry Pembury, who is a
Justice of the Peace. I am Doctor Syn, residing at the Court-House of
Dymchurch, and I shall be grateful if you can return at least some of
the money to that house. Sir Charles Cobtree is also a magistrate, as
you may know.”
“We’ll catch the bit of gallows meat before he gets much farther,
don’t you worry,” and, followed by his assistants, the officer set his
spurs to his horse and galloped up the hill.
When it w as safe for Doctor Syn to return to the bastion, he found
his comical little companion chuckling. “Well, you certainly settled