here will be comfortably lodged in our place in France, and the Scarecrow will be free to show the world that she
was lying out of loyalty, and that he, not she, still rides supreme on Romney Marsh.”
Mipps grinned and nudged the old woman. “Told you he’d get you out of it, didn’t I? And will you be
comfortable in our place in France? My dear old girl, you’ll love it there, and will they love you? “Old Katie’, that
they will.”
11
THE CURSE OF ALDINGTON KNOLL
Above the wide extent of Romney Marsh, that pleasant territory reclaimed from the sea by wall and dykes, and but a
few miles inland, stand two grim sentinels upon the old coastline cliffs. One is Lympne Castle, growing from the
hill into a man-made high-perched cluster of fortifications, and the other Aldington Knoll, a naked hump of nature
from whose grassy summit can be obtained a far-flung view of Marsh and Channel waters. An advantageous spyglass look-out if ever there was one.
No wonder that there existed round it a local legendary curse proclaiming that should the Knoll at any time be
leveled, it would bring a grave disaster upon shipping.
The reverence and awe attaching to this curse was well supported not only by navigators who used its sky-backed
prominence when taking bearings, but by generation of smugglers who had ever availed themselves of the mound
for signaling with flashers and beacon when giving orders to their incoming luggers.
The hill being privately owned for grazing purposes was often threatened by would-be levelers, and the
Scarecrow, whose men used it to such good advantage, saw to it that any attempt at its removal by its owners should
be met with the stoutest opposition.
Now in the days when Doctor Syn ruled the spiritual good of the Marsh, and the Scarecrow dominated the evil
upon it, a certain Farmer Finn, inheriting the land from his father, became one of the most powerful holders in the
district.
Full of energy and with a passion for farming he disregarded the local superstition by announcing his intention of
leveling the Knoll in order to improve his cultivation.
A storm of protest arose when his word went out for labour. The local men of Aldington would not touch it.
Even those who worked on his land refused the task. Posting notices, distributing leaflets, sending out criers; all
these methods brought no response. Not an ablebodied man from Lydd to Dymchurch would volunteer.
Doctor Syn who liked to keep in touch with all events connected with the Marsh, rode over to Aldington to visit
Farmer Finn. He found him in an angry mood. Why, he demanded, should he be boycotted by local labour? He
would show them that they could not dictate to him in a matter concerning his property. He was aware that the work
was hard, but had he not raised the rate of pay to nearly double the amount which anyone else would offer? The
right of way over the top would save pedestrians a stiff climb if the Knoll was level ground. Knowing that the
height was used by the smugglers, he railed against the authorities for not having laid the Scarecrow by the heels. It
was obvious that this same Scarecrow must have issued a manifesto that the work should not go forward.
“I think it goes deeper than that,” suggested Doctor Syn. “You may scoff if you like, but people who live on or
about the sea are superstitious as a class, and you know the ancient curse that some say was laid upon the Knoll by
the Holy Maid of Kent.”
“Aye, I know she was a local celebrity in the days of Henry the Eighth,” sneered the farmer, “but she went to
death at Tyburn, a confessed fraud. Besides, I doubt very much whether it was she who uttered this ridiculous curse.
More likely some scoundrelly smuggler-chief , like this Scarecrow, who finds it so useful. If bad luck comes of its
removal, no doubt the ill-fortune will be mine to bear.”
“The labourers you have approached evidently fear the curse will fall on them,” said Doctor Syn.
“Well, I can tell you this, Reverend Sir,” replied Finn. “The Knoll goes down with their help or without it. I can
import men from another district, who will be glad enough to earn good money.”
“But there is another point about this vexed question, which you may not have considered,” went on Doctor Syn.
“Indeed I made this journey on purpose to discuss it with you. Captain Blain, who as you know is in charge of the
ferreting out of smugglers, and is staying at my Vicarage, informs me that the Knoll is given some importance upon
all Admiralty charts of the Channel coast. Now I know something of the Law, and realizing the power of the Naval
fellows in London, I should advise you to examine your ground very thoroughly before removing it. I mean it
would be a vast expense and trouble if they made you put it back again, if you get me?”
“You can take it form me,” retorted Finn, “that once the Knoll is down the expense will be theirs, since they will
have to alter the existing charts. I know something of the Law too, and the most jealousy guarded rule of England is
that an Englishman may do what he likes with his own. The Knoll is mine and I shall do what I like with it. Have
you any objection, Reverend Sir?’
“I should be sorry to see it go, I confess,” replied the Vicar of Dymchurch. “It is a pleasant spot to look at in fine
weather, and in foul, why, it is pleasant to think of it as a safety guide to homing sailormen.”
“Well, I am afraid both you and the Scarecrow will be disappointed by my action,” snapped Finn.
“You may associate me with the scoundrel, if you please,” said Doctor Syn. “But you must agree that our
motives in this case of sane thinking are entirely different. His are selfish, while mine are altruistic.”
“I have no wish to quarrel with you, Doctor Syn,” replied Finn, more kindly. “You are an honest man, I know,
and try to see things from other people’s point of view. Therefore you are the only one I shall regret hurting when I
pull down the Knoll. And, by the way, I wonder my ancestors have not been at it before me, for the antiquaries say
that the mound on top is man-made: either Druid or Roman, and inside it there may be all manner of buried
treasure.”
“At least such discovery would go a little way to compensate us for its loss,” said the Vicar. “But I do urge you,
once more, to make sure how you stand with the Admiralty.”
“Damn the Admiralty,” exploded Finn. “Anyway, I am going to pull it down, and if needs be apologize for my
act afterwards. I can at least give them the excuse that the Knoll is mine and not theirs.”
Returning to Dymchurch the Vicar let Captain Blain know of Farmer Finn’s attitude towards the Naval Rights,
and when his guest had retired to bed saying that he would send a report the next day to Admiral Troubridge at the
Admiralty concerning Finn’s attitude, Doctor Syn admitted Mipps to the study, where, over a bottle of the best
brandy, the two rascals put their heads together in order to find the best way in thwarting Finn’s design.
Determined to carry out his project without further delay, Finn sent up into the weald of Kent for laborers. Here
he was equally unsuccessful, for his agents found that the Scarecrow had been word-passing before him, instructing
his agent in every village to let it be known that it would be highly dangerous for any man to accept Finn’s offer of
work.
Only one man disregarded the warning, and Finn welcomed him with open arms. A man of gigantic strength,