again.
- 7 -
“And I drink to you,” returned the Doctor, “and to all Marshmen, and
may the Customs never get a one of them to hang upon the grisly tree of
old Jack Ketch.” Then, looking round the interior of the bastion, he
added: “No wonder you preferred to shoot a Riding Officer rather than
being carried away from here. It is all very cozy. I envy you this
gypsy life. It is adventurous; it is simple and natural.”
“Aye, sir,” said Mipps, looking pleased. “A good clod fire always
burning for food and warmth, and that there hurdle with broom on top for
shelter; what more can a man want?”
“Only brandy, it seems, and that you have,” laughed Syn. “How long
have you been in hiding here?”
“Couple of weeks,” replied Mipps. “Though I’m thinki ng of moving
myself on, and legging it down coast for Portsmouth.”
“What do you want to go there for?” asked the parson.
“To ship for the West Indies,” replied the little man. “Thinking of
working my passage on a man o’war as ship’s carpenter. Then I’ll
desert, ‘cos they won’t want for to lose me, being good at my work, and
then I’ll get down amongst the Brethren of the Coast.”
“You mean go pirating?” asked Syn. “For that’s all they are these
days, I understand. The jolly buccaneers have given place to a scum of
bloodyminded pirates. I suppose as a parson I should rebuke you for
such a wish.”
“Never rebuke a man for wishing to live a man’s life and playing the
man when he’s in it,” returned the other. “There’s good and bad in
every trade, and I expects piracy included. And I’ll play the man with
the dirtiest of ‘em. Small I may be, but I’ve grit sharp as flint. A
life of adventure for me. And from all accounts you gets it there.
Battle, murder—”
“Aye, and sudden death,” completed th e Doctor.
“Aye, aye, sir,” grinned Mipps; “but always allowing that you don’t
shoot first and straight.”
“There’s Execution Dock too,” argued the parson. “Have you thought
of that?”
“It’s better to die in old England at the last,” said Mipps.
“Besides, some of us has been born with a rare talent for escape, and
I’d never believe no one could hang me till I felt myself cut down.”
“A true adventurer, I see,” replied Doctor Syn; “and once more I envy
you. Whether you are boasting of your talents or not, I cannot say as
yet, though it seems that they are to be put to an immediate test.
While we have been talking, I have had my eye on Lympne Castle, and it
may interest you to know that three horsemen are riding down along the
western wall. It is significant to me that they are heading in our
direction, and that their leader is riding a dappled grey, very similar
to mine.”
“Sandgate swine,” hissed Mipps, grasping his blunderbuss. “Well,
I’ll at least prove my boast about shooting first and straight.”
‘You’ll attempt no such folly,” retorted Syn sharply. “Unless of
course you wish to forgo all possibility of becoming a good and bloodyminded pirate. You leave the officers to me, and you may yet see your
battle and murder on the Spanish Main. Hold these, and keep yourself
most religiously out of sight.”
Doctor syn had quickly unbuttoned his long black riding-coat, and
from one of his breeches pockets had taken out a handful of coins. Then
he counted into the little man’s hand, saying: “Three guinea spades,
two crowns and a new fourpenny. Keep them safely and yourself hidden,
or you’ll hang.”
- 8 -
Waiting a few moments till the approaching riders were behind a clump
of trees, he slipped out of the bastion walls and untethered his horse.
By the time the officers had emerged from the trees he was slowly
climbing the hill towards them, and since there were many other ruins
scattered about the hillside, there was nothing to connect with the
bastion occupied by Mipps. Meanwhil e, the fugitive, with his weapon at
the ready, cautiously peeped through a hole in the wall, straining his
ears
to listen to whatever the parson might say. This was easy enough, since
the voice of the officer turned out to be coarse, loud and overbearing,
while that of the parson extremely clear -spoken.
The officer was the first to speak. “Have you seen anything, you,
sir, of a dirty-looking little rat of a man in this immediate
neighbourhood?”
“I was about to put the very same question to you, sir,” replied
Doctor Syn; “for he must have passed within a few yards of you as he
went up the hill but now. I hope for your own sakes that you are not
anxious as I am to lay him by the heels.”
“Considering he’s an approved smuggler and we are Riding Offi cers for
Customers,” replied the officer, “I should say that no one could be more
anxious than we are to shackle him. What’s your quarrel with the
rascal?”
‘Just this,” replied Syn, making a wry face as he turned out the
empty lining of his breeches pocket. “He came upon me unawares, and
relieved this very pocket of three guinea-pieces, two crowns, and a
sliver fourpenny.”
“And you offered no resistance?” asked the officer scornfully. “An
agile man like you, tall, young and commanding, should have been a match
for that little rat. Or did you resist him and let him get the better
of you?”
Doctor Syn shook his head. “I did not resist for two reasons.
First, I am a parson and man of peace. And, Secondly, I preferred to
give him my gold rather than let him give me his lead.”
“Aye, and the revered young gentleman’s quite right,” said one of the
other officers. “That there Mipps would pull a blunderbuss at a man as
soon as I would at a rabbit.”
“Which way did he go? Up the hill, you said? An d it’s just time for
the carrier’s cart to start for Ashford. He’ll no doubt use some of
your money to save his legs. Come on, my lads, we’ll ride him down
yet,” And the officer turned his horse.
“I’ll be vastly obliged if you catch him,” called out the parson. “I
am but now on my way to lodge complaint with Sir Henry Pembury, who is a
Justice of the Peace. I am Doctor Syn, residing at the Court-House of
Dymchurch, and I shall be grateful if you can return at least some of
the money to that house. Sir Charles Cobtree is also a magistrate, as
you may know.”
“We’ll catch the bit of gallows meat before he gets much farther,
don’t you worry,” and, followed by his assistants, the officer set his
spurs to his horse and galloped up the hill.
When it w as safe for Doctor Syn to return to the bastion, he found
his comical little companion chuckling. “Well, you certainly settled
them very neat, sir. But I must first give you the lie and retun the
money. Here it is.”
“No indeed,” smiled the parson. “So long as you have it I have told
no lie except that you went up the hill. Instead, I strongly advise you
to go down it. Get on to the friendly Marsh, and use the money to help
you the quicker towards Portsmouth. Were it not for my cloth and duty,
I should be tempted to accompany you. Together we could rule it royally
amongst the pirates. Who knows but that we might not terrorize the
Spanish Main?”
- 9 -
“Well, sir,” replied Mipps with a wink, “if ever you should tire of
your pulpit, go avoyaging and fall into my hands, I pledge you my
solemn word that I will not make you walk the plank. You shall walk the
poop-deck with a sword at your side and a sash stuffed with pistols.
Success to us both. Long life for the King, and Down with the
Government and Customs.”
Doctor Syn laughed, and humorously drank the proffered toast, adding
that should he ever tire of his own profession in England, he would
leave his beloved brethren to another’s cure and seek out the wilder
Brethren of the Coast, where no doubt he and Mister Mipps might
forgather on the poop of some black pirate ship.
Great would have been the astonishment of these ill-assorted
companions had they realized that very soon their joking was to turn
into grim reality. Ignorant of this, however, they parted after mutual
commendations of Good Luck, Mipps shouldering his few bundled
possessions and taking the lower road for Portsmouth by way of Dymchurch
and Rye, and Doctor Syn leading his horse up the steep incline to Lympne
Castle.
At the top of the hill, under shadow of the old bulwarks, he turned
and looked back upon the flat Marshland, intersected with the slivery
ribboned water of the dykes, and spread out beneath him like a vast map.
He was amused to see that his little companion had already reached the
dyke, and from somewhere in the grass Mipps had discovered a long plank,
which he had successfully pushed across the water, and over this
perilous bridge the little man was now walking. And then there came,
owing to his former conversation with Mister Mipps, the first line of a
chanty that was destined to become the terror of the pirate crews. “Oh,
here’s to the feet that have walked the plank.” Aye, Aye, sir, a grim
slogan that was to strike fear into the very fo’c’sles of the worst
ships flying the Jolly Roger. Mister Mipps wobbled over to the other
side of the dyke and then turned round and waved. Doctor Syn waved
back.
pointing to his right foot, which, heavily bandaged, rested upon a stool
in front of the large armchair in which he sat.
“I must ask your pardon also for having put you to the trouble of
climbing Lympne Hill, but, you see, Doctor Syn, since this mountain of
gout could not go to Mahomet, I had to ask you to come to me instead.
Also the nature of the request I have to put to you makes it more
convenient for you to be here, s o that you may see with your own eyes of
what you are letting yourself in for. But first may I ask you when you
think of journeying back to Oxford?”
“A week today, sir,” replied Doctor Syn.
“And how did you propse to get there?” went on Sir Henry. “By the
stagecoach or private conveyance?”
- 10 -
“By neither, sir,” returned the Doctor. “I ride there on horseback,
and I am glad to say that my good friend Tony Cobtree is to ride with
me.”
“But I understand from Sir Charles that his son had finished with the
University.”
“So he has, sir. More than a year since. He is revisiting the town
on a more romantic mission than book -learning. He is taking a proposal
of marriage to the lady of his affections.”
“That’s capital!” cried the Squire of Lympne heartily, as, without
thinking, he brought his hand crashing down on to his bad leg. That
caused him such excruciating pain that it was some time before he could
continue speaking.
In the meantime Doctor Syn expressed his sympathy by saying that he
was surprised that so young a man as Sir Henry should be plagued with an
old man’s disease.
“Aye,” replied the other, as he slowly recovered. “I’m still just on
the right side of fifty, but I’m running to fat, and refuse to give up
my two bottles of port for the whole faculty of doctors. My tailor
could as easily persuade me to wear an a ill -fitting coat. But to return
to this Oxford business. You may or may not be aware that I undertook
recently a Government mission to Spain. While in Madrid, my wife and I
were lavishly entertained by a wealthy South American family. We
naturally extended to them the hospitality of Lympne Castle if by any
lucky chance they visited England. It has proved, however, a most
unlucky chance that has brought them here. The father died suddenly,
and the mother and daughter are now travelling to deaden their grief.
In short, they have been with us here for the last fortnight. Lady
Pembury is very attached to them both, and wished them to stay
indefinitely, but it so happens that they have to trasact some business
with a gentleman of Oxford concerning a mutal property in Spain, and
since the roads are none too safe for foreign ladies travelling alone, I
wonder now whether you and young Cobtree will undertake to be Squires of
Dames and ride as their escort, since you are also bound for Oxford?”
“For myself, sir, it will be an honour,” replied Doctor Syn, “and I
know I can say the same for Tony.”
Sir Henry leaned forward and whispered. “You will not regret it.
The widow is beautiful, but the daughter is ravishing. The mere fact
that young Cobtree has already given his heart to a girl in Oxford will
give you a clear field with the young beauty.”
Doctor Syn smiled. “I had no idea you were a matchmaker, sir.”
Sir Henry winked. “You wait till you see her, my lad,” he laughed.
But then his face went grave and he shook his head. “Ah, no, of course
not. I had forgotten your cloth.”
“There is nothing against a parson marrying, sir,” said Syn.
“Like enough,” returned the other, “but everything against an English
parson wedding a Spanish Catholic, I should say.”
“Well, that question need hardly trouble us, sir,” smiled the Doctor,
“for I have not yet seen the lady, much less fallen in love with her,
and even though I did, ‘tis ten to one that the lady might not fall in
love with me.”
“I think there is no need for you to mortify yourself,” said the
Squire. “You seem to me to be a young gentleman who will always get
what he wants in this world.”
“I hope you are a true prophet, upon my soul, sir,” replied
Syn. As he looked up the door opened and she was standing
there, like a fresh painting set in the old oak paneling. The
young scholar gasped in wonder, and slowly rose to his feet. He
knew that he was gazing at
- 11 -
what he wanted more than all the world.
She was dressed simply in the black mourning for her father, with a
priceless mantilla crowned high and falling in cascades of lacy folds.
The only aloofness of the young scholar is his black riding dress had
arrested her in the same bewildered astonishment. They forgot the
presence of Sir Henry, who, secretly amused, was the first to break the
spell.
“Senorita, “he called, “let me present to you my good young friend
Christopher Syn, a learned Doctor of Oxford. Doctor Syn, this is Miss
Imogene Almago, of whom we were but now talking.”
The Doctor was the first to move. He crossed the room with long,
easy strides. The girl watched his approach, and smiled when he bent
over her hand and raised it gently to his lips.
“I should add to my introduction,” went on Sir Henry, “that this
gentleman is to be your escort when you leave our county for
Oxfordshire.”
“I am greatly honoured,” said Doctor Syn in a voice that was low, yet
clear and caressing.
“Bring the senorita to a chair over here,” said Sir Henry. “And I
shall delight in seeing you two the better acquainted.”
Then Doctor Syn heard Imogene speak for the first time, in a voice