SCARECROW FORBIDS FURTHER DESTRUCTION TO THIS KNOLL. And look at him now. If he ain’t adoing it with his legs. Look, he’s dancing it out, sir. Same message. He’ll be doing a hornpipe next.”
“Come on, Bos’n,” whispered the Captain. “We’ll be taking a closer view.”
Had the Captain been on the top of the Knoll, he might have heard whispered orders of: “Right, Right. Now
again. Same order.” But when he stood peering over a ledge and looking up at the Scarecrow he heard nothing.
The Scarecrow, hideously masked, was standing against the white cliff and seemingly looking out to sea. The
Captain then acted on the instinct that he might never have such another chance again. He drew his pistol and fired.
There was a gurgling choke, and then four cords slid down across the face of the chalk and the ends trailed on the
grass.
Come on, Bos’n. He’s not standing on a ledge. He’s hanging by a rope. Yes, from above. They’d let him
down, and look, there’s cords to his wrists and ankles. Up aloft we go.”
When they reached the top they saw that the rope was fastened round the beacon post. There was no sign of
anyone about, though the sound of galloping horses came up from the road beneath.
“We must have a look, Bos’n,” said the Captain. “Lower him down, eh?”
they lowered the heavy weight to the ledge below, and then examined the features under the mask.
“I killed him. He’s dead all right. Still warm. Is it the Scarecrow?”
The Bos’n shook his head at the Captain’s query.
“No, sir. I’ve seen this cove. You ain’t. It’s Finn’s man what was to level the Knoll.”
Doctor Syn had just time to get into bed and blow out his candle before he heard the Captain return with the
Bos’n. He heard him unlock the door below and tell Bos’n to wait. He then crept up the stairs and knocked on the
Vicar’s door.
As he told Doctor Syn the next day, it was the first time he had ever sought out a priest for confession. When he
had told the whole story, he put his case before the Vicar in this way. “No one but the Bos’n knows of this. Even
the Scarecrow’s men who were obviously using this unfortunate scoundrel for their jest, and pulling his limbs this
way and that in signals, will be wondering who fired the shot. Now if I confess, it will mean me being called for an
Admiralty enquiry. I may be dismissed the service for rashness, though I think not, but I am sure to be taken from
here, and, Doctor Syn, I want nothing to prevent me from catching this Scarecrow eventually. Can I in honour keep
silent? I ask you as a wise man.”
“My good Captain,” replied Syn, “if we three keep silent the blame will fall on someone unknown who wished to
prevent Farmer Finn from destroying our Knoll. The Scarecrow will no doubt be blamed. Well his crime-laden
shoulders seem broad enough to bear another murder. Say nothing about it. Captain blain, if you leave us, we shall
never catch the Scarecrow. Let us say no more, but make a compact that come what may we will work together to
rid my beloved Marsh from this evil that rides by night.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” replied the Captain fervently. “Yo u have given me a great relief. In return I will give you
my full confidence. Perhaps I have kept you too much in the dark up to now, in spite of all your kindness. But this
helpful act of yours makes me not only an obligated friend, but a sworn ally.”
“Against the Scarecrow,” completed the Vicar, nodding his tasselled night-cap. “Oh, Captain, do you think we
shall ever unmask him? Do, do let us try.”
Syn and Mipps chuckled next day when Finn rode over and said he repented he had ever gone against the Vicar’s
advice.
They chuckled more when they realized how well the plan had succeeded, for where Knarler had digged the
chalk became in sunlight of moonlight a pilot light across the fairway of the Channel.
12
MYSTERIOUS COOPERAGE
After the death of Knarler, Doctor Syn expected his guest to keep his promise in giving him full confidence.
Captain Blain had purchased the Vicar’s silence in regard to the matter of manslaughter, with an obligation to
become his sworn ally against the Scarecrow, and yet as the days went by he kept his own consul and was more
reserved with the Vicar than he had been before.
He seemed purposely to avoid speaking of the Scarecrow, and the closer he became, the more openly did the
Vicar try to discuss. Indeed, Doctor Syn railed more than ever against the smuggling.
On the Sunday following Knarler’s death, he preached twice against the ways of wicked men, who for the sake of
gain, did not scruple to use the dreadful violence of sudden death. There had, he said, been too many tragedies upon
their beloved Marsh, because certain men upon her had feared to disobey the orders of the arch fiend in their midst,
and he urged all good Marshmen to support Captain Blain and his gallant followers, in their endeavour to stamp out
the wickedness. At the conclusion of both sermons, he called his congregation to their knees, while he extemporized
a prayer that the Captain’s efforts would be blessed with success.
No one was louder with ‘Amen’ than Mr. Mipps, who was able to appreciate the humour of the situation, though
his face showed nothing but righteous zeal for the destruction of the Scarecrow.
Since the Captain never referred to what he was himself planning, Doctor Syn,, was certain that his guest was
planning something very important.
Perhaps the Captain underestimated the Vicar’s quick instinct for reading men’s minds. He did not know that the
Vicar was studying him all the time.
The Captain, pretending to be beaten by the Scarecrow, which he would not acknowledge in his mind, was under
the impression that Doctor Syn was tricked into the belief that he could think of no plan of campaign, and was
therefore content to mark time with carrying on the ordinary routine of a ship’s company ashore. And yet as the
days passed and they faced each other over the port, an occasion when conversation was demanded between host
and guest, the Vicar could have staked his wig that Captain Blain was working secretly on lines that gave him
inward satisfaction, but which he was not willing to divulge even to his supposed ally. The closer the Captain
became, so did Doctor Syn become more communicative as to his own ideas on the subject.
Although many of these suggestions were sound and practical against the Scarecrow, the Vicar was well aware
that the Captain, although politely pretending to consider them, merely discussed them in order to dismiss them in
his own mind in favour of whatever scheme he was working upon, a scheme which he had decided not to impart to
his host.
But if he was close about his own plans, he tried hard to draw Doctor Syn into conversing about his past travels
in the Americas, which the Doctor at first thought was but politeness, until he began to wonder whether his guest
was not trying to trip him up about his past. This amused the good Doctor, for he knew that the sea-dog would have
to prove himself a lot cleverer to do that.
Doctor Syn knew how to deal with the past, but the Captain’s campaign against the Scarecrow was a vital
question of the immediate future, and it was very necessary that he should know beforehand which way the cat was
going to jump when the Captain opened the bag.
As he confessed to Mipps: “I can of course take an opportunity of accusing the Captain that he is not keeping to
his side of our bargain. If he persistently keeps me in the dark I have every excuse to do so. On the other hand, I