would prefer not to show such a curiosity. I mean, I should like to discover his scheme, whatever it may be, without
his knowledge.”
An opportunity presented itself from an unexpected quarter. It was young George Lee, the cooper, who brought
things to a head in the Vicarage, and enabled the vicar to discover and thwart the Captain’s plan.
George Lee had been one of the Doctor’s young parishioners, till he had left Dymchurch for Hythe in order to be
apprenticed to the master cooper of the brewery.
He had been most solemnly initiated according to this ancient rights known as ‘trussing the Cooper’. This
consists of squaring up a cask with the help of his master, and then laying a cresset or iron bucket, wh ich when
alight, warms the cask, and makes the staves pliable for shaping, which are then bound with the hoops and beaten
with heavy hammers. The apprentice is then ‘rung in’. This part of the ceremony is performed by hammering upon
sheet iron. At the close of this pandemonium the willing, though nervous, apprentice, allows himself to become the
victim to the masters of the craft, who bundle him, feet first, into the cask which he had helped to fashion. Gathered
around him, as he crouches in the cask, the masters hammer upon the hoops, while the ‘christening’ ceremony is
performed with sawdust, shavings and water.
The cask, still warm from the cresset, is then turned upon its side, and with the victim still inside it is rolled up
and down the length of the shop.
The apprentice is then dragged out by his ankles and tossed into the air, when, to show that there is no personal
animosity towards him, his particular master is tossed up by the same tormentors. His health is then drunk by all,
and the apprentice has become a fully-fledged cooper.
Now George Lee had recently passed though this ordeal, and was justly proud in being a real member of his
trade.
Meeting him outside the Brewery Cooperage in Hythe, Doctor Syn asked him whether he found his working
hours too long, to which the lad had replied that he only wished he could be allowed to work longer, adding that he
could forgo all recreation for the sake of his job. Therefore Doctor Syn was the more surprised to find him entering
the Vicarage gate during the morning following his meeting with him in Hythe.
“Have you then an enforced holiday, my lad?” he asked. “From what you told me yesterday, I did not expect to
see you so far from the cooper’s shop upon a working day. You want to see me, eh?” And without waiting for an
answer he added, with a smile: “I can guess at your purpose, I think. You are come to ask me to put up the banns
for you and Polly Henley, eh? You find that you are prepared to face matrimony now that you are a cooper indeed.”
The lad blushed and shook his head. “No, sir. Though in that respect I am only waiting Polly’s permission to do
so. But I did not come for that reason, though I wish I had. I am here, sir, under orders to see the naval gentleman,
called Captain Blain, who I think is staying with you, sir.”
“So you come to see my guest and not me, eh?” replied the Vicar, with another smile. “Well, I fancy you will
find him inspecting his men in the old barn. This is his usual hour for that ceremony.”
The lad thanked the Vicar, and was for passing on towards the large Tythe Barn, when the Vicar, wondering what
business could be afoot between these two, stopped him with, “Has the Captain been commissioning you to make
him a barrel, then?”
“No, sir,” replied the cooper. For a moment he paused, as though uncertain what to say next. Then he added: “It
is a business meeting, sir, which I am obliged to keep to myself, according to the Captain’s express orders. Though
to keep any secret from you, sir, seems all wrong, I admit.”
“Nonsense,” laughed the Vicar. “A promise is a promise, and a good man knows when to keep his mouth shut.
No doubt the good Captain has his reasons for secrecy, and you do quite right to respect them.”
Just then the Captain came striding out from the darkness of the barn’s great doors into the sunlight, and seeing
the Vicar talking to the lad, whom he had been expecting, he came towards them with: “Ah, so you have intercepted
my messenger from the cooperage, eh? A purely technical matter, Vicar. A contract for a sprung water-cask that
they are to put right, that’s all.”
“And you have to worry about little things like that, Captain?” asked the Doctor innocently. “I thought such
matters were arranged for you from the Supplies Office.”
“And sink me, Parson, so they should be,” responded the Captain with some warmth. “I fear they are not,
however. At least not with any satisfaction. For any immediate service I find it better to put out a job direct, and
send in the account to the Admiralty after.”
Doctor Syn made a mental note of this, and later came to the conclusion that in reality Captain Blain would do no
such thing. He knew enough of ships and shipping to be quite sure that such artic les as casks, when faulty, would be
supplied fresh from the dockyard coopers, and not from such a place as the brewery in Hythe.
“Do you mind if I take this lad into the house, so that I can refer to my order book?” asked the Captain.
“He does not wish me to overhear their conversation,” thought the Vicar. “This ‘order book’ is but a blind drawn
in front of my eyes.” Which only made him the more determined to overhear what might pass between them.
Aloud he answered: “Certainly, Captain, with all my heart. You may have the use of my study undisturbed, if you
will allow me but a minute to put on my gown to be in readiness for the reading of Morning Prayer. It is nearing my
time, for the Sexton has already gone to the church and will be sounding the ten o’clock bell in a minute or so. And
do you know, Captain, if I am not dead upon time, the old rascal will slip away quickly, glad of any excuse to escape
going through the many responses and Amens.”
Doctor Syn had already made up his mind. He led his companions to the Vicarage, entering by the front door
and not by the study garden door, at the back. In the hall he went to a side-cupboard and produced the glasses,
which he placed on the table, saying:
“I have not yet drunk our mutual friend, George Lee’s, health, since he became a master of his craft. I am sure,
Captain, you will join me in such a ceremony. I will open a bottle of sherry, for such an occasion demands the
drawing of a fresh cork, and I can leave you to finish the contents, for if I stay too long my Sexton will abandon me.
Mipps is an excellent fellow, but he had his weaknesses. As he has not yet rung the bell I am safe for a minute or so
before cutting off his retreat. You see, Captain, Mipps and I have frequent words about the necessity for carrying
through the form of Morning and Evening Prayer, when there may be no one there but ourselves. You will
understand that I am not in any way accusing my good flock of desertion, but they are busy fold upon week-days,
and more often than not, we have not three gathered together, but only two, myself and Sexton. Not being in Holy
Orders, Mipps is not obligated to say privately or publicly his Morning and Evening Form of Prayer, but I am. And
although many clergy keep their churches closed during the week, I consider such to be a breach of discipline. Just
a moment, Captain,” he laughed.
Now Mrs. Fowey was in the habit of giving Mr. Mipps just one noggin of rum before service, ‘just to give him
strength to pull the heavy bell’, she would say. So Doctor Syn knew that he could count upon finding the Sexton