the two figures with pistols in each hand, and they clung to their husbands desperately, while the children huddled to
them in terror.
“This will teach you what you should have known,” went on the hard voice, “that you cannot play the Scarecrow
false. Look behind you.”
The two small windows bristled with barrels held by the Nightriders and the servants of Duloge. That colossal
dandy had been quick and silent in attack.
“And now for the cause of this mutiny,” said the Scarecrow. “I must have the reason and the ringleader. You
have raised no complaint before. Fred Hart was the last to be condemned and sent here. Was it you, Fred Hart?”
Before he could answer another spoke for him. “No, Scarecrow. Fred Hart owned he deserved his punishment,
and only asked us whether we thought the Scarecrow would keep his word and send over his wife and child. From
the first he was against the mutiny, and only joined because we all did.”
There was a long silence, during which the hideous head of the Scarecrow slowly faced each mutineer in turn.
Then he spoke again. “The ringleader in Handgrove. He has been betrayed two of his fellow Nightriders to the
authorities, after extorting monies from them under threat of exposure. If you remember I rescued those tow men,
his victims, from the Dymchurch cells, and sent Handgrove here for life. Handgrove is the ringleader, but Fred Hart
is to blame. Now listen, Hart. Because of your wife and child, I am once more inclined to be merciful to you, and
to you all. Not so to Handgrove. Where is he?”
No one answered.
“I see,” went on the Scarecrow. “You do not know where he is, eh?”
A sullen chorus of ‘No’ from the mutineers.
“But you know where he has gone, eh?”
The mutineers looked at one another uneasily, but no one spoke.
The Scarecrow continued, “Monsieur Duloge, will you ask your servants who took your missing fishing boat?”
Duloge turned from the open window and jabbered in French to the servants behind him. Then, with no attempt
to conceal his panic, he cried out through the window: “None of my people had the boat. My God! Then it means”
The Scarecrow completed his sentence: “It means that these men shut themselves up in this store -house to
conceal Handgrove’s absence. It means that Fred Hart told his fellow-prisoners of the huge reward offered to
anyone who could break up our gang. It also means the Handgrove has sailed in that boat to lay the information
about this place. Am I right, Fred Hart?”
“Aye, Scarecrow,” replied Hart. “He sailed last night. He is going to the Admiralty to appeal for a rescue ship to
bring these missing families back to England. He will stipulate for a free pardon for all here.”
“You will now lay down your arms,” said the Scarecrow. “All of you will load the lugger. We will not sail with
an empty cargo-hold. The women and children will return to the cottages, which, by the way, are all undermined,
and Monsieur Duloge intends to blow them up if he perceives the least sign of mutiny again. Remember that you
are in our hands, not we in yours. I sail tonight, but shall return in person for the next cargo which will be run in a
few days’ time, when I shall require all prisoners to attend the execution of Handgrove. Unbar the door and get to
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.