‘When you have recovered, Mr. Mipps, perhaps you will pass me back the bottle and discuss parochial affairs.’
‘Yes, sir — hic — parochial affairs. Real parochial affairs — or er?’
‘Yes, Mr. Mipps, we’ll discuss that too.’
‘Oh — that’s what I wanted to know. First of all — it’s them “British Grenadiers” again today followed by “The Girl I Left Behind Me”. The word is bein’ passed as usual. Coaches playin’ ’em both voyages, up and down. Next, please? Oh, Jimmie Bone — messages from him this mornin’ — says he forgot to ask you last night — if you’ll be needing him to ride as the Scarecrow for you tonight.’
‘Tell him to stand by till we know which way the cat’s goin’ to jump.’
‘Oh, don’t we know? Suppose we don’t. Oh, talking of cats. That there Revenue man. Been seen prowlin’ through Hythe. Ought to be here any minute now. Oh, talkin’ of Hythe: ’ere’s a bit o’ news. Mrs. Waggetts’ cousin twice removed has to go into Hythe on account of what she’s expectin’ grantiddlers.1 She runs into her uncle, who has with him a relation of the bootboy at the “Red Lion”.’
Doctor Syn interrupted. ‘I trust the news is not so involved as the relationships.’
Mipps replied promptly: ‘No, sir. Gets clearer. Well, I’ll tell you. That there Foulkes. Now what worried the boot-boy was that he hadn’t got no boots. Wasn’t half in a dobbin2 about it too. Rantin’ and roarin’. Foulkes I mean, not the boot-boy. Sends out for cobblers and shoemakers. “Red Lion” in a uproar. But by the time he’s measured the whole place knows what he’s come for. But here’s the best bit of news, sir. He’s passin’ the word and says he wants it passed that he’ll challenge the Scarecrow in open duel. Quite positive he’ll win, too. Says he’ll wager a thousand with anyone.’
‘That’s very interesting, Mr. Mipps,’ replied Doctor Syn. ‘He’s killed some dozen men already. I wonder what the Scarecrow will do about that?’
‘Yes — that’s just what I was wondering of, too.’
‘I shouldn’t let it worry you, Mr. Mipps. Yes, the Sluice Gates. Oh — let me see, high tide? Well, well. Now the christening; this afternoon, of course. Remember?’
1 Grandchildren.
2 Temper.
Mipps nodded. ‘Just cleaned out the font. Ever looked down from the top of them Sluice Gates?’
The Vicar nodded.
Mipps went on. ‘A lot of lovely mud goes swirlin’ round. Thin mud.
’Orrid mud.’
‘Yes, Mr. Mipps, I have noticed that there is mud in the Sluice Gates. And oh, by the way, Mr. Mipps, the Squire is dining with me tonight. Would you be so kind as to inform Mrs. Honeyballs to make an especial effort. I thought perhaps some few dozen oysters, that brace of pheasants, a little soufflé….’
But to this Mipps objected, ‘Oh, shouldn’t trust her with a soufflé. Not today. Got the dawthers, she’s all of a shake. That corpse made her shake good and peart,1 and when Mrs. Honeyballs shakes — she shakes, and you don’t want a shaky pudding. Better make it a trifle. Won’t matter then if she is heavy-handed. By the way, sir, you was talkin’ of Pedro — will he be comin’ over tonight, sir?’
Doctor Syn nodded. ‘Yes, Mr. Mipps, with the usual cargo, if all goes well. And I have instructed Pedro that all must go well this time. But he’s a good man; I’d trust him where I’d trust few others. Now, Mr. Mipps, ’tis time for me to rise. I have a sermon to prepare and must balance up the Tithe Book. And I must not forget to do that little errand for Jimmie Bone, though I think it would be well to wait for a day or so until the hue and cry for him dies down. I shall return the jewels to Miss Gordon personally. You know, Mipps, Gentleman James has got discernment, for the old lady certainly has character. I have a great liking for the Scots.’ So saying, Doctor Syn got out of bed, went to the open window and stood for a while scrutinizing sea and sky as if reviewing the weather, while Mr. Mipps watched him in this familiar attitude, as though he were upon the aft-deck of his old ship Imogene, looking for dangers on the seas ahead. He wished they could both hoist canvas and sail the seas again. So, stifling a sigh of longing and regret, he went down to execute his master’s orders.
An hour or so later Doctor Syn was busily engaged upon parochial accounts in the library, when Mr. Mipps disturbed him again with, ‘Beg pardon, sir, he’s ’ere again. That there Will-Jill. Looking a bit subdued like — not that I don’t wonder — but he’s ever so pleasant — and asked most polite to see you. The fright you give him must have done him good. Oh, beg your pardon, sir,’ this upon noticing the Vicar’s warning look. ‘Shall I show him in, sir?’
1 Lively.
‘Yes, indeed, Mr. Mipps. I shall be delighted to make his acquaintance. I somehow thought that he might pay me a visit.’
And so Lord Cullingford, tired, yet with a new look of determination, entered the library and introduced himself to the Vicar.
‘I must ask your pardon, sir,’ he said, ‘for thrusting myself upon you like this, uninvited, but I did not wish to return to London without fulfilling the idea with which I set out. The reason of my visit this morning, however, differs from my original intention. I came now, sir, simply to pay my respect. Happening to be at Crockford’s on the night when you confronted a certain gentleman of my acquaintance, I vowed that I would come to you for assistance, for I had set myself what I now know to be a herculean task — to catch or kill the Scarecrow. Oh, pray do not laugh at me, sir,’ for Doctor Syn was regarding him with a kindly quizzical air, ‘for I was in dire distress and most damnably in need of the Government reward.’ He plunged into a full description of allthat had happened to him since he left the Ship Inn with the Dragoons, ending up with the strange appeal that Doctor Syn should not judge the Scarecrow too harshly, ‘for, reverend sir, he must be a good man at heart. True, I saw him condemn a man to death as I told you, but it was justifiable according to the code — why, the Forces of the Crown would do the same. Yet what officer of the Crown would take the pains to show a foolish young man how best to prove himself, and become a tolerable good citizen?’ He then explained in the simplest manner that he was going to take the Scarecrow’s advice by avoiding his extravagant friends, and joining up with men who had to earn a living — in short, the Army. ‘For though I have but a few guineas left in my pocket,’ he said, ‘I have at least gained something of great value — my self-respect, and I shall ever be grateful to this strange, incalculable being that people call the Scarecrow.’
Doctor Syn had listened to this frank confession with mixed feelings — sympathy for the misguided but engaging lad who might indeed have been his own son, and admiration for the purpose he displayed, and was thankful that he had indeed been able to effect this transformation. Humbled a little by the knowledge of his own secret life, he determined to help this youngster further. So with the greatest tact he persuaded Lord Cullingham to accept a loan of some few hundred guineas, laughingly telling him that there was life in the old Vicar yet, and as he was liable to be here for a number of years, would be delighted to see him whenever his lordship cared to call.