At this the Vicar protested: ‘You do him an injustice, sir. The Squire of Dymchurch is moderate in all things; indeed, he is looked upon with great respect by his tenants.’
Mr. Hyde capped this derisively: ‘That’s as may be, sir, seeing the Squire’s known to wink the other eye.’
Doctor Syn rose, and in a reproving tone told the Revenue man that he would not allow a guest to remain under his roof who questioned the integrity of his benefactor. His attitude conveyed dismissal. Mr. Hyde, cursing himself for a clumsy fool and having no mind to go before accomplishing his mission, apologized as far as his nature allowed, and explained that he had no wish to offend but that suspicion being his trade, he must, of necessity, suspect anyone who could tally with the Scarecrow’s description, adding with conciliatory jocularity: ‘Why, I might even suspect you were you as good a rider as Sir Antony and not known to be one of the Scarecrow’s sworn enemies. Your sermons against this cunning rogue are highly spoken of, as is, indeed, your courage in delivering them; that is why I seek your assistance.’
At which the Vicar, having reseated himself as a sign that he had accepted the other’s apology, seemed amused, and enquired whether Mr. Hyde was suggesting that he should ride out with the Dragoons on their man-hunt.
Mr. Hyde snorted. ‘Man-hunt?’ he cried. ‘Devil-hunt, more like, for I begin to think the creature’s supernatural.’ Then his tone became confidential. ‘No, Parson, I am not asking you to do anything but give me such help as your calling allows. In a word, I want you to impart to me any information you may have heard, or any suspicions you may have, regarding the questionable activities of your parishioners.’
At this the Vicar seemed deeply shocked, as he replied in severe reproof: ‘Let us understand each other once and for all, Mr. Hyde. If I can be of any help to you be preaching more strongly against this evil, I most readily agree, but I should be a disgrace to the cloth were I to betray the sorry little secrets of my flock,’ adding devoutly that he considered it his bounden duty to respect the confidence of all — black sheep or white. He smiled as he explained himself more fully: ‘Revenue man and smuggler alike. A little more brandy, Mr. Hyde?’ The Revenue man was completely baffled; he felt he had not made the progress he had anticipated, so to gain time he accepted the brandy before replying: ‘You’re spoken of as a good man, Doctor Syn, but I venture to think that you have not been so closely connected with crime all your life as I have.’
With this the Vicar agreed. ‘Possibly not, Mr. Hyde. Possibly not. Possibly you could teach me a very great deal about crime.’ Then seeming suddenly to change his mind, he suggested that perhaps they should work together after all, adding with timid eagerness: ‘Do you really think we could catch this, er — rascally Scarecrow?’
This was the attitude that Mr. Hyde understood, and he replied bluffly: ‘All in good time, Parson, all in good time. Glad to see you’ve changed your mind, though if all goes well tonight, I may not need your help, for Major Faunce and his Dragoons are already combing the Marshes beyond Dungeness.’ Doctor Syn seemed most interested, and the Revenue man, flattering himself that he had subdued the parson, and was on the way to getting what he wanted, continued aggressively: ‘That infernal Scarecrow had the audacity to send me a note with details of tonight’s man-hunt — but I’ll fox the rascal. I have a special troop well hidden in Wraight’s Building Yard.’
The Vicar stared at him with astonished simplicity, and in a voice filled with admiration, said: ‘Dear me, Mr. Hyde, dear me. I fail to see how this rogue can ever hope to pit his wits against yours — remarkable foresight on your part. The Building Yard? Now whoever would have thought of the Building Yard? Indeed, you have quite convinced me, I cannot go wrong if I listen to you.’
Mr. Hyde was delighted and so full of self-satisfaction that he could hardly speak, and so Doctor Syn continued: ‘But should you not succeed tonight, do not fail to tell me how you next intend to trap him, and let us see if my poor brain can add anything to that.’
The Revenue man, seeing his object in sight, felt he could afford to be a little condescending, so he thanked the parson, adding: ‘They say two heads are better than one.’
Instantly the Vicar replied: ‘Dear me, do they? I find mine quite satisfactory. I should not like to lose it. It is as valuable to me as I should imagine the Scarecrow’s is to him.’
Mr. Hyde chuckled in confident anticipation. ‘His won’t be worth much by the time we’ve finished with him, eh, Master Parson?’ His object achieved, and by now thoroughly convinced that his first impressions of this old clergyman were wrong, and that he was, after all, just as simple as the rest of his class, he rose and said that he had better be about his business, for although he would not get much rest this night, there was no reason why he should keep Doctor Syn from his.
Doctor Syn, on his part, remarking that he was loth to see such an entertaining visitor depart, escorted him personally to the door, where the Revenue man bowed, saying: ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Reverend Sir, and good night.’
Doctor Syn returned his bow with a cheery ‘Good night, Mr. Hyde, and thank you. Your confidence is flattering — and most enlightening.’ But had Mr. Hyde known just how enlightening his confidence had been he would not, upon leaving the Vicarage, have been quite so pleased with himself.
Chapter 10
With the Scarecrow’s Compliments
Doctor Syn closed the front door and chuckled at the assurance of the Revenue man, and after reflecting how completely his play-acting had succeeded, the chuckle grew into a laugh, and when he thought that had Mr. Sheridan seen his performance he would certainly have recommended him as a comedian, his laughter grew the louder. Indeed, he was laughing so hilariously that he did not notice that Mipps had returned and was standing beside him.
The Sexton’s tone was plaintive. ‘You might, at least, tell me the joke. I don’t see nothin’ to laugh at. Least, not at a Revenue man. Funny — never liked ’em. Never saw nothin’ funny in ’em, neither. And if he ain’t goin’ to get no rest, he ain’t goin’ to keep awake doin’ nothin’ funny under our windows.’ And with this philosophical resolve Mr. Mipps went briskly to the curtains and pulled them close with an extra tug or two to show his indignation. By this time Doctor Syn’s laughter had dwindled back into chuckles.
‘Oh well, p’raps it was Wraight’s Building Yard you was laughin’ at,’ pleaded Mipps, trying to get some sort of response from his master. This had the desired effect, for the Vicar raised a questioning eyebrow. Mr. Mipps knew what it asked and proceeded to explain. ‘Oh, begging you pardon but anticipatin’ nothin’ humorous knowin’ what Revenue men are, me ear didn’t seem to want to get away from the key’ole. “Mr. Mipps,” it said to me, quite jealous-like, “you’re always thinkin’ of your weather eye, now pay a little attention to your weather ear.” I couldn’t get it off, sir. Got paid itself out. It was burnin’ fiery ’ot at the things he said about the Squire, and it positively blushed when you got on to them piebald sheep.’
‘Then your sensitive ear has saved me the trouble of repeating it,’ said the Vicar quietly, and then dropping his voice still lower, spoke quickly and urgently: ‘You know the plans for tonight, but warn the men to keep clear of Wraight’s Yard. Put sentries round to report any movement of the Dragoons. Tell Vulture and Eagle to be in the Dry Dyke under the sea-wall in a quarter of an hour. And now we know which way the cat is likely to jump, tell Jimmie Bone when he returns as the Scarecrow from the false run to ride out again and see that the remaining Dragoons upon the Marsh are well and truly lost. I shall not need him as the Scarecrow tonight for the “run proper”. I must do that myself. There will be too many decisions to be taken on the spur. That’s all, I think. The horses were all listed. Ah, yes. That reminds me. The Squire’s stable. The horse called Stardust. See no one touches it.’