Текст книги "The Shadow of Dr Syn"

Автор книги: Russell Thorndike

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

And now how proud she was that no one else had been with him up here….

‘Save one,’ he said. Then, seeing her quick look of wonder, told her the story of how he had first met Mipps, his other best-loved friend, and how here he had had the luck to save his life, and then not met again, till in the Caribbean Mipps had done the same for him. Her pleasure was so great to be sitting on the very spot that she turned swiftly to him, the sun behind her, shining through her loosened hair making a fiery halo round her head….

‘Then I vow I love you both so much,’ she cried, ‘I would that I could do the same for you, the pair of darling pirates that you are.’ He leant and kissed her hands – and her strong fingers caressing his arm betrayed him. For he could not stop the sudden wince of pain – and in a moment she was all self-reproach and tenderness. They must go home. His arm must be properly seen to. She herself would do it. And did he know that she was dining with him tonight? Aunt Agatha had arranged it with Mamma, who agreed it would be quite proper if Agatha went too.

He did not know – he accepted with pleasure. So, mounting their horses, they rode slowly back in tender teasing vein – loath to leave this darkening spot which had embraced so much of their lives and given them this shining hour. The sun dropped down and the Marsh died to be reborn in a thousand twinkling signals – for it was only then that Romney Marsh awoke and came to life.

* * * * *

How was it that they dined alone in that lovely Adams room? Seated one at either end of the refectory table, eyes meeting across that subtle distance only served to tautenteh reins of tehir inseparable selves. The answer was ‘Romance’, and no one knew better that Aunt Agatha how to foster that most delicate flower. But where was Aunt Agatha then? She was certainly not dining with the two disgruntled ladies at the Court House. Yet the powdered footmen there would have staked their very wigs that she was at the Vicarage, for had they not heard her ladyship’s orders? ‘Miss Gordon chaperones Miss Cicely to dine with the Vicar.’ Indeed one of their number had escorted them with a lantern to the gate. But not having eyes at the back of his head, he could not notice the old lady’s whispered farewell to her great-niece, nor that she trotted back after him across the Glebe, but that instead of going into the Court House she had deliberately set off in another direction.

The lady in question, having served to cosset her niece’s romance, had planned a little flutter on her own account, and it was towards this crowded reception that she had made her way. Seated in the place of honour of the Bar Parlour at the ‘Ship’, Miss Gordon was holding court.

Her admirers on this occasion were very much more to her taste than the stuffy old Lords of the Level who had been invited to amuse her the night before. Her reticule being well stuffed with Scottish gold, tankards were continually being refilled with Mrs. Waggetts’ special, while her gay stories and quick retorts kept the company in Rabelaisian good humour. Yet out of all this throng of fishermen, farmers, soldiers out of the new box, and village cronies in general, the casual onlooker might have noticed that her special cavalier had a pair of merry blue eyes and a popularity equal to her own. Yet in spite of the fact that she was kept so busy and was indeed enjoying herself, from time to time, and with a glow of satisfaction, she thought on her two dear romantics at the Vicarage, and wondered how they fared.

Indeed tehy were faring very well. Mrs. Honeyballs’s dinner, although they had not noticed it, had been a poem, and the present scene would have been entirely to her approval, for Cicely, having attended to the dressing of a slight wound on the Vicar’s arm, that same arm and its fellow were clasped around her, as they stood by the fire in the hall, candles glowing and moonlight shining through the windows.

* * * * *

Mr. Mipps had got over his ‘dobbin’, for he had been extremely busy and had had no time to foster it. There was Mrs. Wooley’s coffin to be attended to, and Mr. Mipps, taking a natural pride in his work, did not like to be hurried, and there had been the final details of the night’s run to be seen to, and the false run to be supervised. All this accomplished, there remained his report to the Vicar. He had some special messages to remember, and was hurrying to get these off his mind before he forgot. So occupied was he with tabulating these that he was half-way across the room before he noticed that the Vicar was indeed behaving like a flirt-man. This gave him such a shock that it was not until he was half-way out again that his weather eye told him that it registered something else out of the ordinary. He was horrified, and decided that in spite of what the Vicar was doing, action was necessary. He crept back and tried to attract the Vicar’s attention: signalling violently, scratching his own arm and pointing to his master’s, while mouthing silent protests.

Doctor Syn looked over Cicely’s shoulder and smiled at him. ‘’Tis all right, Mr. Mipps,’ he said, ‘Miss Cicely knows the worst.’ Mr. Mipps’s signals dwindled, and his mouth opened wide in surprise.

Cicely turned and, with the Vicar’s arms still round her, smiled at him too. ‘’Tis all right, Mr. Mipps,’ she said, ‘Miss Cicely knows the best.’

The situation was all too much for Mr. Mipps, but through his confusion one thought flashed out clear:

‘Oh, Cap’n, whatever have you done to the Vicar?’ he gasped. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, miss. But look at you standin’ about in your shirtsleeves with the curtains wide and Mr. Hyde on the prowl.’ He went to the window and closed the curtains, adding reproachfully: ‘It’s that there shark. Might catch a cold. It don’t like draughts. It ain’t had so much fresh air since we done it at Saratoga.’

The Vicar became more serious, though he still had something of the gay recklessness that Mipps feared, as he answered: ‘Thank ’ee, Master Carpenter

– you ever had a weather eye for danger. ’Twas careless of me, though tonight I care nought for all the King’s horses and Revenue Men.’

Mipps replied promptly, ‘No, but they care several aughts for you.’ This was worse than he had expected, and since it was the first time he had ever been called Master Carpenter in company, he concluded that Miss Cicely knew all. So he added reprovingly, ‘Looks like you’re remembering to forget.’

‘If you mean be that, Mr. Mipps, that I am forgetting my old slogan, “No petticoats aboard”, you need have no fear. Miss Cicely, Heaven be praised, is no petticoat.’

Suddenly, remembering the scene beneath the Vicar’s window that morning, much to his annoyance, Mipps found himself blushing violently, as the picture flashed before him of Miss Cicely in her dicky-cum-bobs. He was tongue-tied and stood miserably gazing at nothing….

But Cicely, seeing the little man’s embarrassment and knowing the reason for it, threw back her head and laughed. ‘Lud, I hate the things, but I’m forced to wear ’em, as in truth Mr. Mipps knows full well. Pray do not fret, Mr. Mipps, ’twas my fault for trespassing.’

He looked up at her gratefully as he felt the hot flush, giving up the search for his turnip-watch. ‘Come, give me your hand.’ Then, with her other clasped around Syn’s wounded arm, she took Mipps’s horny little hand in her cool firm one and cried, ‘Now we are indeed an unholy Trinity.’ Her battle was won – Mipps was vanquished. He knew now why she had always been his favourite in the Cobtree family.

‘Oh, Miss Cicely,’ he swallowed hard, feeling an unusual lump in his throat, ‘I always said that you was ship-shape. A1 at Lloyd’s and Bristol fashion. Thank you, miss, you are the only person I’d be proud to call “Mrs. Captain”, miss.’

Syn too had a huskiness in his throat as he watched with tender amusement the ease with which this girl had captured the tough little pirate – and experienced the relieved emotion of having two best-loved friends discover and like each other. He hoped the Sexton would not hold it against her, but see eye-to-eye with him in his decision to claim the pardon, and release himself from the shadow of the Scarecrow. He listened to her, saying that Mr. Mipps had paid her the nicest compliment she had ever had and thanking him for making her love Captain Clegg since childhood by telling her such wonderful stories about him.

‘Oh, those,’ replied Mipps. ‘You wait. I ’ad to shorten sail for them; but now you knows, we can cram on all the canvas – talkin’ of petticoats and that there shark – there was a girl in Saratoga —’

‘Mr. Mipps,’ warned Syn, though his eyes belied his severity, ‘remember to forget.’

Mipps’s eyes crinkled too as he nodded. ‘Oh, sorry, sir, remember to forget,’ repeating itlike a naughty school-child. ‘I must remember to forget,’ which suddenly reminded him of what he had indeed forgotten.

‘Knock me up solid!’ he cried. ‘Remember to forget, you says, but ’ere am I forgettin’ to remember. Jimmie Bone – I’ve just had a message – he done the false run – everythin’ lovely – all accordin’ to plan. He goes to the Ship Inn to meet your auntie, miss, accordin’ to plan. Goes to Aldington – ’as a look at the beacon – everythin’ lovely, all ready. Then what does he do but go and feel thirsty – that there Jimmie Bone. He’s up a gum tree – went into the “Walnut Tree” to ’ave one. Slap into a covey of Bow Street Runners wot come down special. Didn’t ’alf feel silly.’

‘Not caught?’ asked Syn sharply.

‘Oh no, not as silly as that – not in the “Walnut Tree” – lovely rabbit warren. But he can’t move, not while them Runners is yappin’ about outside

– got word to me in the usual way – said I was to tell you he didn’t ’alf feel a fool but he dursn’t come out – not after that little affair of the Dover coach.’

Doctor Syn broke in: ‘So he won’t be able to light the beacon…’ He thought for a moment, serious, alert. Cicely watching him, fascinated. Then orders were rapped out. ‘Slight change of plan, Mr. Mipps – instead of riding with me, you will lead the Bonnington gang from Jesson Flats to the hills. Take Vulture and Eagle, while Raven and Cormorant lead the circling of the Marsh. I will see to the beacon myself. The signal is from Double Dyke tonight. I can pick it up from this window. Have Gehenna here under the bridge.’

He turned to Cicely and asked her to forgive him for attending to business; then explained that when Gehenna was used from the house he came from a hidden stable beneath the bridge, and that he only had to be called to come out by himself so that the could drop into the saddle from where he was. He laughed and told her that the next riding lesson should be hers, upon Gehenna – and then added regretfully that soon they must get ready for the run and he would take her home.

It was while he held her cloak for her that there came a peremptory knocking at the front door. Mipps went to the grille and peeped through. Closing it again, he whispered urgently: ‘It’s that Revenue Man. What did I tell you – prowlin’ —’ Syn raised a warning finger and Mipps waited, while Cicely, eager to prove her right in belonging to this unholy trinity, was ready with his coat before he turned to fetch it. He slipped into it and quickly put his glasses on his nose – while she, sitting demurely onthe settle, patted the place beside her and whispered, ‘Spinster of the Parish – parochial affairs.’ The knock was repeated, louder than before, and Syn, smiling at Cicely, sat beside her and nodded to Mipps. The door was opened and Syn called out, ‘Who is it, Mr. Mipps?’

‘Don’t rightly know, sir,’ answered Mipps innocently, then in pretended surprise: ‘Why, it’s Mr. Hyde!’

The Revenue Man, with grave face, stepped into the room and bowed awkwardly. Doctor Syn rose and with some slight surprise welcomed him, then turning to Cicely presented him as – the new Revenue Officer from Sandgate. She was outwardly so calm that both Mipps and Syn were mentally applauding new partner, but she herself knew suddenly a quiet, cold fear that grew with every word this man uttered.

Her newly acquired intuition told her that in this thick-set, slow-brained brute was danger, resembling, as he did, some giant hound who, having caught the faintest spoor of a king stag, would bear down relentlessly until he tired his quicker-moving prey. Her feeling of thankfulness that she was now at his side turned her love into fierce animal protection, though Doctor Syn seemed to need nobody’s help. She listened to him parrying with fine ‘rapier’ speech the sabre weight of the Revenue Man’s conviction. His explanation for her presence alone and at this hour – that she was kindly doing one of his duties tonight, visiting a sick woman to free him for an errand of mercy elsewhere – called for the first heavy stroke from these convictions.

‘I have another errand for you tonight, Doctor Syn,’ he said flatly.

‘Then I fear unless it is more urgent than mine own, I cannot give you my promised help tonight,’ replied the Vicar calmly. ‘Please understand that I must put my duty first.’

‘I am afraid mine comes before that, seeing that it is the King’s business.’

The Vicar looked quite shocked as he parried with a question: ‘And is not mine? Surely, Mr. Hyde, your duty cannot have blinded you to the fact that King George the Third is also Defender of the Faith?’

‘No, sir, I am well aware of that.’ Hyde was immovable. ‘But my duty has not blinded my eyes. On the contrary, it has opened them and I have formed some very grave suspicions. I must ask you to accompany me to the Court House.’

‘Suspicions?’ the Vicar queried. ‘Can you not tell me of them here? Surely there is no reason to go to the Court House.’

‘There is every reason.’ Again the flat bluntness. ‘I have not been idle since my last visit to you, Parson, and I told you that suspicion was my trade. I also told you that I might even suspect you, were you as good a rider as Sir Antony.’ Cicely could hardly breathe – her heart seemed stifled with fear at this almost open accusation, but the man went on with other explanations. How he had been here and there upon the Marsh, watching and listening, how he had watched the Vicarage from the sea-wall night afeter night, seen lights

– strange activities, movements of casks. He pointed out that it was from the Vicarage that Major Faunce had been so badly used, then finished sarcasticaolly with: ‘So for your own safety, Parson, should the Scarecrow pay you a visit – for I have wind that there’s a run tonight – you’d better come with me! Oh, I will not put you in the cells, sir, but I have some Dragoons there who will see to your safety….’

It seemed to Mipps that this girl had very quickly learned what had taken him so long to acquire, for he was just about to make an innocent remark when she forestalled him: ‘But surely, dear Doctor Syn, your errand of mercy is very urgent. Is not the old man near his time? It would be a dreadful thing if his light were to flicker and you not near at hand.’ She looked at him with such an excellent air of the troubled village spinster that Syn, being the man he was, could at that dangerous moment think of Sheridan appraising her performance against his own. While Hyde, being the man he was, could not appreciate the full significance of this parochial scene, and watched unmoved and luckily unsuspecting as the Vicar said, benignly:

‘Do not worry, dear Cicely. I shall be there in time. Come, Mr. Hyde, I will accompany you. You are quite right, for the sake of the parish I should consult my safety, and ’tis true I preached a strong sermon last Sunday against this enemy of ours. But as to these activities – I have seen nothing unusual of late – have you, Mr. Mipps?’

The game was being played again and Mipps as always was ready. Having anticipated what might happen, he had under the pretext of tidying the room got out of sight and scribbled something on a flat piece of wood that he had in his pocket. He came forward with his usual confidential innocence. ‘Well, Vicar,’ he said, ‘while you was talking to Miss Cicely’s auntie – I didn’t tell you this because I thought the ladies might be nervous, sir – then being so busy what with one thing and another I forgot to remember it.’

‘Well, Mr. Mipps?’ the Vicar helped.

‘Oh yes. Well – I ’ardly like to remember it now – there was a horrible noise, so I goes out and sees a ’ooded figger flippin’ round the corner of our bridge – so I flips after it on me tip ’ooves – ever so scared, and I sees ’im put something in one of them groins – dunno what it was – didn’t touch it

– dursn’t – so I flipped back ’ere —’

Doctor Syn was very grave and told the Sexton he had been most careless not to have spoken of this before as it might be something of importance to Mr. Hyde, a message perhaps – or a clue for the smugglers’ activities tonight.

Mr. Mipps was most apologetic and to prove it continued: ‘Well, if you like to come with me, Mr. Hyde – I can show you where it was exact – I shan’t be nervous in the company of such an upstandin’ gentleman as yourself —’

The Revenue Man was uncertain. He did not want to miss anything but, slightly flattered by the little man’s confidence, agreed to go if it wasn’t far.

‘Far,’ repeated Mr. Mipps, as if Hyde had asked a silly question, ‘no – near – you can’t go far on tip ’ooves, least I can’t – perhaps you can.’ This somewhat confused statement seemed to convince Mr. Hyde, and he allowed himself to be led across the bridge and over the sea-wall by the Sexton, who kept up a continual flow of facetious conversation, so as not to give the Revenue Man time to think and to let Doctor Syn know where they were.

When the voices had died away, Cicely, in one movement, was at his side. Strangely enough, it was the first time she had ever used his name and it seemed to be torn from her. ‘Christopher, that man suspects you…. Oh, my darling, and ’tis all my fault. The ride – he said he had been here and there upon the Marsh – he must have seen us – perhaps as we jumped the broad dyke – and the curtains were wide when I was bandaging your arm. What can we do?’

He took her in his arms and reassured her, smoothing the worried frown from her brow with long sensitive fingers, then, holding her face in his two hands, his eyes too commanded her to have no fear. ‘We have faced worse dangers than Mr. Hyde – Mipps and I,’ he said, ‘and now we have you to strengthen us – but listen, he will soon return and I must make pretence of complying with his wishes. I shall not be able to speak to Mipps again, so do you make a pretext of remaining here to collect the necessaries for your invalid, and tell him to give you in a bundle all the Scarecrow’s clothes. When you return home, drop them from your bedroom window and somehow I shall manage to escape – and ride – for the last time, Cicely, I promise you.’

She had strength now and shook her head. ‘Oh, never!’ she cried triumphantly. ‘The Scarecrow will always ride while Aldington Knoll stands high. But do you have a care or it will be the last of me.’

He looked at her and marvelled that she could thus take the difficult way

– it seemed that she had more courage than he – yet it was only for her sake that he wished to be quit of his double life – and claim the pardon. He smiled when he thought how hard put to it he would be betwixt her and Mipps.

The warning voice of Mipps approaching along the sea-wall drew them swiftly together. Then as the sound grew nearer he put her from him, and went to his desk, unlocking a drawer. He took from it a small ivory box which he put in his pocket, and was back at the fireplace when Hyde and Mipps returned. The Revenue Man was looking black and Mipps appeared to be puzzled. Doctor Syn looked up with a smile: ‘Well, did you find anything, Mr. Hyde?’ he asked.

Hyde glared. ‘Nothing of any value to me, a hurriedly scrawled message, looks as if it hadn’t been there long for the water’s been up and this is dry as a bone.’ He was holding in his hand a small flat piece of wood. Mipps took it from him and read aloud with pretended bewilderment: ‘“Hyde’s the danger on the seek or prowl – Vulture – Eagle – Curlew or Owl.” Don’t run very well, do it,’ he said, ‘but I dunno, feels a bit damp. Smells a bit fishy to me, too.’

‘And so it does to me, Mr. Sexton,’ growled Hyde, now certain that he had been fooled. ‘Of good red herring. Come, Parson, if you’re ready. Will you accompany us, Miss Cobtree?’

‘Thank you, Mr. Hyde, but I must collect the comforts for the poor woman I am nursing tonight…’ Cicely turned to Mipps and asked him if the basket was prepared for Mrs. Wooley. Doctor Syn thanked her for her good work and timely help in this emergency.

‘’Tis but what you would do yourself, dear Doctor Syn.’ She was again the good worker of the village: ‘I have only to follow in your footsteps. With such an example, what could I do but devote my life entirely to – the Parish?’ Her eyes told him that indeed he was the parish, and his hands as he patted hers with friendly benignity told her again what she already knew. Then turning to the sullen Revenue Man, Doctor Syn said he was ready to accompany him. As they were going out of the door he remarked that the moon had gone in and that it was a dark night, so that it was a good thing that the Court House was not far and that he knew the way.

These last words of the Vicar’s seemed to give Mr. Mipps a deal of comfort. He shut the door and grinned: ‘You hear that, miss? He knows the way. What’s the orders, miss?’

‘You’re to give me the Scarecrow’s clothes in a bundle which I am to drop from my bedroom window. Oh, how lucky ’tis the wing that faces the official rooms,’ she cried. But even as she visualized him in that strong guardroom, doubts arose. If only her father had been here he would never have allowed this outrage. But there was nothing they could do, and all her fears returned. ‘Oh, Mr. Mipps,’ she cried, ‘how can he possibly escape?’

Mipps rose to the occasion. ‘Now don’t you worry, Miss Cicely,’ he said – and then it was strange, but he used the very words Doctor Syn had done: ‘We have faced worse dangers than this Mr. Hyde – the Cap’n and I. I don’t say that at the moment it don’t look tricky – but you take it from me that his brain’s been working since that knock on the door.’ He went upstairs to the old sea-chest and started to collect the necessary clothes, talking as he rolled them into a bundle. ‘He’s as quick as lightning in the riggin’ is the Cap’n. Remind me to tell you what he done in the Tortugas —’ but on second thought decided that the story was not suitable. ‘Well, perhaps I didn’t ought,’ he said. ‘But I can tell you the one about the slave-trader off the Chinee coast. Saved my life he did – and that weren’t the only occasion. He’s done it more times than a cat’s fairy godmother. He’s as nippy with a marline spike as you are with your knitting-pins, Miss Cicely. So if he can’t think of something to diddle that there nosy Hyde and Seek I’ll knock myself up solid.’ He was quite confident himself for indeed he had never known his master to fail, but he had this advantage over Cicely: years of co-operation with Clegg, while this was her first experience of the Scarecrow in danger – though Mipps himself had to admit that there was some justification for her fears; in truth she picked on the one thing which did worry him – the time.

‘How can he do it in time, Mr. Mipps?’ she cried. ‘The Court House may be full of men. ’Tis only a step but he must come here to see the flash and get his horse – he cannot do it in the time.’

Mipps would have liked to have treated her as he had done, when being quite young she had come to him with childish troubles, but now to allay the doubt that he had caught from her he had perforce to be stern.

‘Now look here, miss,’ he said, giving her shoulder a gentle shake. ‘If you’re going to be Mrs. Cap’n, you’ll ’ave to learn that orders is orders. I done it these twenty years and never known him wrong. He may be ready now

– bundle – window —’

He gave her the basket and told her to hurry. She thanked him and said she would, asking forgiveness for having been so foolish – and once again old Mipps was completely disarmed – he reproached himself for his sharpness and proceeded to make up for it:

‘There – I know just how you feel, miss,’ he comforted. ‘Ease your mind and listen for the signals. Remember, three cries of the curlew – three times, that means accordin’ to plan – and let’s hope you don’t ’ear no ’ootin’ of the owl.’

He opened the door and she went out, but half-way across the bridge she turned, came swiftly back and kissed him. Then she was gone, running like a young deer across the Glebe.

The Court House was dark. She thanked Heaven that Lady Caroline and Maria were abed. She crept to her own room, and extinguishing the candles flung the curtains wide.

In the opposite wing one window was lighted up and she could see into the room. She watched, fascinated and horrified, for there at a table with three Dragoons, his face toward her, looking shadowy in the thick tobacco smoke, was Doctor Syn. While yet another shadow passed across the window – darker and more ominous, and she heard the measured tread of a sentry in the yard below.

Chapter 22

The Shadow of the Scarecrow

Mr. Mipps was poring over Doctor Syn’s map of Romney Marsh, marking the distances from Jesson Flats to the hills, when a curious feeling in his jigger-staff told him that he was not alone. In a flash he realized when he had done, or rather what he had not done; for being at once both moved and worried about Miss Cicely, he had forgotten to lock the front door. Someone was behind him and he knew who that someone was. He stiffened, but gave no sign. Instead he leisurely rolled up the map and started to hum his favourite song. Determined that no prying eyes should look at the map he locked it in the cupboard beneath the lectern, and then started off round the room, tidying it casually. He passed the waiting figure twice, then suddenly pretended to notice it for the first time, and he jumped in feigned surprise. ‘Goodness gracious me, it’s our Mr. Hyde. Shrouds, plumes and crape – you did give me a fright, sir. What ’ave you come back for? Dropped something? You shouldn’t have come back to see if I was all right. I’m used to being alone.’

The Revenue Man looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Are you, Mr. Sexton?’ he sneered. ‘I wanted to make quite sure of that.’

‘There now,’ Mipps was almost indignant. ‘And I thought you was making sure that the Vicar was comfortable. You know, sir, you shouldn’t have taken him off like that without his slippers and his nightcap. Poor old gentleman. He’ll catch the ague dead-sure as coffin-nails. Now you stay here and I’ll slip ’em round to him.’

‘You’ll stay where you are,’ the Revenue Man growled, ‘and there’s no cause for anxiety about the Vicar. That “poor old gentleman” is being well cared for by three Dragoons and at the moment is enjoying himself hugely at a game of dice.’

‘’Ow,’ said Mr. Mipps. Then he started violently and looked at Hyde. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, did you say – dice?’

‘Yes, Mr. Sexton – dice.’

‘Oh – dice.’ Mipps answered as though he had not heard it the first time. ‘Dice.’ He then repeated, ‘Yes, Mr. Sexton – Dice,’ so many times under his breath that it turned into a sing-song chant, as he went casually to the desk. The drawer was open and empty and the words changed as he sang in delighted whispers:

‘The Vicar’s taken his dice-box: The Vicar’s taken his dice-box: Yes, Mr. Sexton, Dice.’

This annoyed the Revenue Man and he asked him what the devil he was saying.

‘Nothin’,’ said Mipps. ‘Only singin’ what you said.’

He then told Mr. Hyde that if he had come to stay the night he’d get out one of the Vicar’s nightshirts.

‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ snarled Hyde. ‘Stay the night, I may, in this room. I just want to make sure there’ll be no run tonight.’

Mipps thought that he’d have some difficulty in preventing it, since the Vicar had taken his dice-box, which had never failed them yet.

His mind went back to the Chinese coast, where they had acquired this ingenious contraption. Carved out of ivory, the shaker had a false base and ordinary dice could be used, until such a time as its owner wished to get himself out of a tight corner. Then by pushing a spring hidden in the carving and shaking it downwards violently, small glass drops fell out and exploded on the table. Though no particle of glass was left to tell the tale they emitted such an odious nauseating stench, that all who smelt it were overcome with violent retching, and became incapable of offering any resistance. The effects wore off within the hour, by which time the joker, who was careful to protect himself with the antidote, would escape to play the jest elsewhere. For, after all, when indulging in a game of dice a generous amount of strong liquor is usually consumed, so the excuse could always be ‘over-indulgence.’ Mipps was jubilant – the only thing now was for him to elude Mr. Hyde and warn the Vicar of his presence. So, in order to put this plan into action, he said he was going to get on with his work.

‘Your work can wait,’ snapped the Revenue Man.

‘Oh no, it can’t,’ contradicted Mipps, ‘not Mrs. Wooley – any time now. Makin’ her a beautiful coffin – best pine – brass plate and all the trimmings – you wouldn’t be wanting one, would you, sir?’ Here Mipps produced a foot rule and his notebook and started fussing round him, and then as though taking a great interest in Mr. Hyde’s prospective funeral asked: ‘What wood would you think’ (he was going to say ‘best’) ‘– oak?’

The infuriated Revenue Man told him to leave him alone and to go and get on with his work if it was within doors.

Mipps replied that it was within the next door and that he’d bring her in and do her in here if he was lonely, and Hyde, who in spite of his own trade was not fond of coffins, told him abruptly that he did not want for company, and to get out, but remain within earshot.