Текст книги "The COURAGEOUS EXPLOITS OF DOCTOR SYN "

Автор книги: Russell Thorndike

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

8

THE DANDY SLEUTHS

Since that affair at the Admiralty, when the Scarecrow had prevented the informer, Handgrove, from collecting the

Government reward for betraying the secret base in France where his contraband boats were loaded, the Nightriders

of Romney Marsh became more than ever the topic of popular conversation amongst the London gossips. The

mysterious disappearance of Handgrove had not ceased to be the chief source of wonder at the scarecrow’s skill,

when the corpse was found hanging from the common gibbet outside the Court House in Dymchurch.

Amongst people of all classes a great fear had arisen concerning the Scarecrow. The average man, whether

regaling himself in a club of fashion, a coffee -house, or a tavern, declared that if ever he had the opportunity to

betray the Scarecrow, or his men, he would be too scared to do it, since what had happened to Handgrove might and

probably would be the lot of any other who was dangerous towards the Scarecrow’s schemes. However, this was

but the opinion of the average man. A thousand golden guineas, which was now the reward offered for the

Scarecrow alive or dead, was yet a great temptation to any man of courage who happened to be desperate for hard

cash.

And such a one was Sir Harry Sales.

A young bachelor, clever, well dressed and attractive in manner as in face and form, he loved the ladies so well

that he could never bring himself down to a one and only. His friends said of him that he would never marry in case

his lady wife made him give up his gambling habits. Not that he was skilled in cards or dice, but he loved the

excitement that they brought. He preferred to cut the pack for money, rather than to play a game of skill with them.

He liked to know quickly his gain or loss.

Having gone through a considerable fortune at the gaming clubs, he had retired to his country

Seat, meaning to cut his losses by quiet living. But after a few weeks the gloom of his rambling old house got on his

nerves, and the urge to return to the fashionable clubs of London compelled him to sell family pictures, jewelry and

plate. With the funds thus obtained he drove to London in order to try a last conflict with the Goddess of Fate.

At them Bucks’ Club in St. James’s he was received back with open arms. He had been missed for himself by

his real friends, and by others because he played for high stakes and lost gamely. What was more to the point of

pleasing them, he lost pretty persistently. Also he was over-generous and when the wine mounted to his brain,

which never made him quarrelsome, but the more jovial, he did not notice that he was doing all the paying.

His last funds sank as rapidly as he played. When luck was with him one night, it deserted him more disastrously

the next. But he stuck to his purpose, hoping that he would be the gainer at the last. The crisis came when he had

circulated the wine too freely, and his muddled, jolly head made a miscalculation of a thousand guineas. He cut for

his last thousand, as he thought, not realizing that he had lost it on the round of bets before. His opponent made him

see that he was wrong, after some argument in which high words were spoken. This attracted the interest of

Admiral Troubridge, who, with his brother the General, and two guests, was playing a simple round of backgammon

if they felt so disposed, though the younger members of the club wondered how they got any amusement from such

games.

The Admiral had know Sir Harry’s father, and had long grieved to see the son thus ruining himself. Thinking

now to save the young man from a squabble which he thought might turn into a stupid affair of honor, he excused

himself to his guests by saying that he wished to get the youngster out of an awkward corner which his so-called

friends had forced him into.

“ I’ll bring him over and introduce him to you, my good Doctor,” he said to the learned Vicar of Dymchurch,

who had been his dinner guest.

As the Admiral approached he heard young Sir Harry say: “Well, then you are right. Major, and I take your word

for it. Had I but kept a clear head I would not have always played for stakes that I could pay out of hand. I regret

that I must ask you not to accept my I O U. I will get round tomorrow and see what can be done.”

With a smile that thinly disguised a sneer, the Major replied: “I think you said that your stables were empty and

everything not entailed disposed of for cash. Perhaps you were only exaggerating. I hope so from my heart.”

The vicar of Dymchurch overheard and sized up the situation as the Admiral beckoned him to join the other

group.

“My good friend, Harry,” said the Admiral, “as your father’s dearest friend I want to have the pleasure of

introducing you to Doctor Syn, Vicar of Dymchurch, who also knew your father and would like to know his son.”

“I am honored to meet you, Reverend Sir,” replied Sir Harry. “Let me in my turn present you to my friends, who

are all acquainted with the Admiral. This is Mr. Briston, Captain Tandyshall, Lord Strathway, Sir Peter Hemminge,

and this Major Culland.”

Doctor Syn noted that the last name was given with a formality that carried no friendship with it. Also that the

other gentlemen seemed by their manner to hold the same view. It was obvious that his remarks about Sir Harry’s

stables being empty had offended their sense of decency. Even the Captain who served in the same regiment had

edged away from his superior officer after bowing to Doctor Syn.

Lord Strathway, by reason of rank and seniority, became the spokesman.

“It is indeed an honor to the Bucks’ Club to welcome you, Doctor Syn. Your name is on every one’s lips for the

courage you have shown in your parish against this Scarecrow. I marvel that you can appear so calm, for I confess

that were I in your shoes, I should be shaking in them. I vow had I defied this outlaw as you have, I should be

expecting him to leap out at me from the panels of this card -room.”

“Doctor Syn of Dymchurch, is it?” drawled the Major, surveying the Parson with amusement through his

quizzing-glass.

Doctor Syn bowed his assent.

“Well, well,” went on the officer, “is the Bucks’ Club turned into a Revenue Office that we have the scarecrow’s

enemies congregated together? The Admiral here, his brother the General there, with Major Faunce, and now the

Parson. All four have been made the public butt of the Scarecrow’s humor, and no doubt you are meeting here as a

place of safety in which to form further plans against him. The old proverb, eh? Try, try again. ‘Pon my soul the

Scarecrow’s head must be swollen with pride, when he has beaten the Navy, Army, Revenue officers, Bow Street

Runners and the Church. Now, Sir Harry, here’s a chance for you. A good idea. These gentlemen gathered here

like ill-omented birds of prey against the Scarecrow gives me a hint. You owe a thousand guineas for that last cut.

A thousand guineas will be paid to whoever catches the Scarecrow. Significant that the sums coincide. Surely Fate

challenges your courage and ingenuity, my good Sir Harry Sales? You have courage, eh? And certainly an

ingenuity in dealing with the Jews. I am quite sure, too, that you have a desire to pay your debts, especially your

debts o f honor. Why don’t you attempt the task that has beaten so many? Why not go down to this Romney Marsh

place, play a lone hand, and bring back the guineas?”

Doctor Syn saw the challenge accepted in sir Harry’s eye, and was secretly amused, but aloud he said very

seriously, “You would be rendering a great service to the country, sir, if you were to succeed, and my poor parish

could once more lift up its eyes unto the hills.”

“Come now, sir,” put in the Major, “I think we should not put pressure upon Sir Harry. He must follow his own

discretion, for we must own that disaster has overtaken all who play a hand against this Scarecrow.”

“There is no disaster greater in my mind,” said Sir Harry quietly, “than to postpone the payment of a debt of

honor. Give me a week. By that time I will do my best to confront the Scarecrow, and what will happen then is in

the hands of Fate.”

“You’ll be more than ever the hero of the ladies if you succeed,” laughed the Major, “ and I need not add the

envy of the men.”

“I think that by accepting your challenge, Major Culland,” said Doctor Syn, “Sir Harry Sales will earn great

respect from all. It is undoubtedly a brave thing to play a one had against our local scoundrel.”

“But he shall not play a lone hand as far as I’m concerned,” replied Sir Peter Hemminge. “My sword and such

brains as I can muster to the problem are at your service, Sir Harry.”

“You mean that you’ll join me?” asked Sales joyfully.

“There’s my hand on it,” declared Sir Peter.

“And mine too,” put in Mr. Briston. “Hunting a Scarecrow will be a new sport, by gad.”

“I think so, too,” cried Lord Strathway. “What about you, Tandy? You’re on furlough I think you said.”

“I am, my lord,” replied the Captain, “and not loving the cards as well as my Major here, I’ll welcome anything

more exciting than playing here night and day. You’ve no objection, Major?”

“Why should I?” asked his superior. “Your time is your own. Had I not business in Town to attend to I should

have been delighted to join you in the enterprise.”

“As to that,” replied His Lordship, “there is a proverb about ‘too many cooks’. Four is a concise number for such

an undertaking. We will pledge ourselves to work under the leadership of Sir Harry, and he will at least be

confident that his lieutenants are all loyal and sympathetic friends.”

“And you may count on the old Parson for any help he may be able to give,” said Doctor Syn. “At least I know

the district, which may prove useful, and understand the temper of the parish, who are all members of my flock,

black sheep and white. I think also I have shown sufficient spirit in declaring myself a public enemy to this troubler

of our local peace.”

“And since both my brother and myself are also his declared antagonists,” added the Admiral, “and have

guaranteed an equal reward to that offered officially against the Scarecrow, I’ll write to Captain Blain, who is

residing at Doctor Syn’s vicarage, and my brother will write to the Dragoons encamped in the ship Field, to place

themselves entirely at Sir Harry’s disposal.”

Doctor Syn smiled and shook his head. “I have the greatest respect for my guest, Captain Blain, but in his work

he is, perhaps rightly, as close as an oyster. He is so determined to catch the scarecrow himself that I fancy we

cannot look for much co-ordination in that quarter. It is another case of Lord Strathway’s proverb, “Too many

cooks’.”

“Well, join us at our table, gentlemen,” said the Admiral. “You may as well know as much about the scarecrow

as we can tell you, for remember, Doctor Syn, my brother, myself and Major Faunce have all had the experience of

seeing him at work, and out testimony may be a service to you, Sir Harry.”

“ I shall welcome such a conversation,” replied Sales warmly. Then changing his tone he bowed to Major

Culland, saying, “I shall hope to settle our wager here in one week.”

As the other gentlemen bowed stiffly and began to move, Major Culland stopped them. “Just a moment,

gentlemen, before leaving me in this cold fashion. You convey plainly enough by your manners that you are

displeased with mine. Yet I protest that I am willing to show that I have as much sporting instinct as Sir Harry

Sales, who is about to risk his life as leader of this expedition to the Romney Marsh. Let us not deceive ourselves as

to his danger. However secret we may be on the matter, and believe me I shall not breathe a word of it, the

Scarecrow is likely to strike first. It is a way he has. Out of regard for this, I will raise the stakes against myself.

Suppose now Sir Harry’s luck is better in adventure than in cutting cards, and that he wins the reward for the

Scarecrow, alive or dead, I will tear up his I O U if today week at this hour of nine in the evening he shall bring the

Scarecrow into this clubroom so that such members and guests who are then present shall have the fun of seeing the

rascal unmasked for the first and last time. I am willing to forfeit my thousand guineas for such an honor to our

Club.”

“We can hardly bring such a dirty scoundrel into a respectable,” club objected Lord Strathway, by way of

excusing Sales from taking up such a difficult wager.

“But he may be a member, for all we know to the contrary,” laughed the Major. “No one knows who the devil he

is, though many think he is the devil himself. At least judging by his cleverness and grim humor, I incline to the

opinion that he is a man of breeding and education.”

“His handwriting hardly warrants such an assumption,” said the Admiral.

“As to that, sir,” suggested Doctor Syn, “his handwriting would be surely disguised, and as to His Lordship’s

suggestion that his distinguished club is hardly the place for such niceness as members might feel. The Major has

suggested a wager that would be regarded in the best society as a piece of skylarking in the heroic vein.”

“And a great feather in the club’s cap, sir,” agreed Mr. Briston.

“What do you say, Sales?” asked His Lordship.

“That I never refused a challenge yet, my lord,” the young man replied stoutly. “I’ll do my best, and with so

many good friends at my back I see no reason why we should not be unmasking the outlaw here at this time next

week. And now, Admiral, let us by all means talk it over with the General and Major Faunce. Good evening, Major

Culland, and thank you for you stakes.”

The group followed his example of another formal bow to the Major before leaving him alone. The Major

surveyed them through his quizzing-glass and with a smile of inward amusement strolled out of the club.

An hour later Doctor Syn also left the club, took a hackney coach to the Mitre Inn in the City, collected his

baggage and his henchman, Sexton Mipps, and then took the night coach for the Kent coast.

The next evening the news spread round the village of Dymchurch that five gentlemen had booked the best

rooms at the Ship Inn. Mrs. Waggetts, the landlady, informed Sexton Mipps that they were pleasant-spoken

gentlemen and had bespoken the rooms for six nights. They had satisfied her curiosity as to their presence in such a

remote village by stating that they sought sea air and quiet after a hectic season in Town, and that Dymchurch had

attracted their attention owing to the much-talked of activities of the Scarecrow and his followers.

Mrs. Waggetts advised them for their own good not to venture on to the Marsh or sea-wall after dark.

“We thought we might see something of the fun, and have a good story to take back with us,” laughed one of

them.

Mrs. Waggetts shook her head and advised them to be cautious. Disregarding her motherly advice they put on

their cloaks after supper and strolled out upon the sea-wall.

Here they were questioned by the naval patrol under command of Captain blain. To him they told much the same

story, but the Captain rudely warned them to mind their own business and not to interfere with his plans for

capturing the Scarecrow.

“Let us understand one another, sir,” replied Sir Harry. “There is a public reward posted for the scoundrel. You

can hardly prevent anyone from trying to earn it, and if you interfere with us you may find that you are interfering

with the Law.”

“And you may find yourselves with your throats cut in a dyke.” Retorted Captain Blain, who on returning to the

vicarage told the Vicar that things had come to a pretty pass when a party of dandy Sleuths were attempting to do his

work.

The conversation had been carried on upon the sea-wall beneath the windows of the City of London Tavern, and

the five dandies were unaware that a man who had followed their coach from London on horseback, and had taken a

room at the ‘Tavern’ for six nights, had overheard all that had been said from behind the half-closed shutters.

News reaching Mipps of this man’s arrival, the Sexton went round to the ‘Tavern’ for a drink, had a quick look at

the stranger as he supped alone in the parlor, and then carried his description to the Vicar.

Applauding his factotum’s eye for detail, Doctor Syn remarked: “So Major Cullund, so busy in Town, has taken

a week off business to keep an eye upon his opponents in the wager. No doubt he will try to gain the reward

himself. Well, the more the merrier, and we’ll give them a run for their money. We will lie quiet for five nights,

and then organize a spectacular ‘run’ of contraband upon the sixth. And we will see which of them can catch the

wicked Scarecrow. I should prefer that Sir Harry’s party had that honor, though for our own safety we must do what

we can to prevent it. Tomorrow night we will ride out to the hidden stables and consult with our friend the

Highwayman.”

For five days and nights the party of Dandy Sleuths, as the Captain persisted in calling them, went out and about

upon the Marsh. They visited all the ale houses and were lavish in their hospitalities. For free drinks the yokels

were induced to talk, and made good use of their imaginations. The Dandies carried back with them more

information than they had ever dreamed of getting, and as they discussed it over their wine in the Ship Inn they were

of the

opinion that the Scarecrow was not so popular amongst the men of Romney Marsh as they had been given to believe

by reports in London.

Since Captain Blain refused to speak to any of them after his warning, Doctor Syn, out of regard for his guests,

had to entertain the Dandy Sleuths for dinner at the inn, while the Captain was served in his house by the old Mrs.

Fowey. It was during this meal on the second day of their stay that the Vicar showed them another threatening letter

he had found upon the pulpit cushion of his church. It was written in the familiar scrawl of the scarecrow, and told

him in plain terms to have no dealings with the town gentlemen staying at the ‘Ship’. The old Vicar assured the

gentlemen that he was not afraid.

Meantime Major Cullund kept to himself, and the Dandy sleuths were not aware that he was watching them. But

the old Vicar went to the ‘Tavern’ and confronted him. Cullund told him that he hoped to take the Scarecrow

himself, and so have the laugh against the men who had affronted the Bucks’ Club. Doctor Syn, who owned that the

Major had been in his opinion definitely affronted, gave his clerical word that he would not betray his presence in

Dymchurch to the five gentlemen at the Ship Inn.

“As far as I can see,” stated the Major, “there is small chance of anyone capturing the Scarecrow, since the

inhabitants are so mortally afraid of him. So, Reverend Sir, I shall still get my thousand guineas, since Sir Harry has

only to borrow the sum from his companions.”

Doctor Syn told Mipps that his dislike for the Major increased.

Though the five from the ‘Ship’ worked according to their lights, indefatigably, they were bound to confess

amongst themselves that after four days and nights of watching, listening and seeking, they were no nearer in

finding out anything concrete to help them. And then, while supping late one night the door of the coffee-room

opened and a tall man entered unannounced and closed the door quickly but quietly behind him. Placing his finger

to his lips he tiptoed towards the table, motioning to Sir Harry Sales and Lord Strathway to give him room as he

picked up a chair and placed it between theirs. In whispered tones he apologized for his intrusion, said there was no

need to give his name, but instead could impart information which they would be glad to get, since it concerned the

Scarecrow.

“His safety had always been that of fear amongst his men,” he expla ined. “I know you gentlemen wish to get

him from under the nose of Captain Blain. Well, I can help you to it. His men are tired of his tyranny and I know

there is a plot to kill him after the next run on Friday night. Even for the sake of the reward his men dare not betray

him, knowing he could inform against them all in the Law Courts. Therefore when the last keg is safely put to

hiding they are binding him, and gagging him safe beneath his mask, and placing him in a disused oast house, which

they intend to fire. At the first flame the conspirators will fly for their own safety, but if you dash into the oast

house before the fire gets him you may carry him off alive. For myself I ask nothing, though a poor man, except

that I hate the whole gang of them. I have reason, which only concerns me.”

Closely questioned, and fortified with good wine and Lord Strathway’s filled purse which was pressed upon him,

the stranger gave them further details. The gentlemen, if hidden by the oast house, would see the landing on

Littlestone Beach. The Captain had lapped up secret information that a landing was planned beyond Dungeness, and

the Revenue cutter would be patrolling that water, where they would be delayed by a decoy of three harmlessly

loaded luggers. Apparently the Night -riders had been cheated of many guineas for some time and were determined

to appoint another leader. All of which information delighted the five gentlemen, who on the departure of the

stranger became hilarious with joy, knowing that with a little dash and risk of burning they could win the almost

impossible wager.

Hearing their laughter, Mrs. Waggetts remarked to Mipps in the tap-room that they were hardly the breed to score

off the Scarecrow. The gentlemen, however, continued to drink and be merry, knowing that they were.

On the Friday afternoon Captain Blain , from information received, marched his men through the sea mists which

were encircling the Marsh some two miles beyond Dungeness, closing in towards the promontory as darkness fell.

They heard the signal gun of the cutter ordering the luggers to heave-to. For two hours they waited for the

revenue boat to report. At last it came grinding on to the shingle, and they learned that the luggers had nothing

aboard but stinking fish shipped for manure. The had heaved the stuff overboard expecting to find brandy kegs

beneath the cargo, and were now liable for heavy damages.

Meanwhile, Major Culland had seen the five gentlemen pass along the sea-wall, but when he tried to follow them

found that he was locked in his room, and his casement was too small to squeeze through. His hammering and

shouting were to no avail. For some reason he was being held from going after his club mates.

The five meantime saw much to astonish them. Their informer had been a man of his word. Hidden near the

oast house they heard the distant gun of the cutter echoing across the water from miles away. They saw the signals

from the landing-party flashed in the darkness, and then the string of pack-ponies, guarded by the wild Nightriders.

Then they saw the Scarecrow himself ride up on his great black horse and give his orders, which were dutifully

answered by many “Aye, aye, Scarecrow’s.”

In half an hour back came the loaded ponies from the beach, and then the Scarecrow himself. But this time,

instead of leading his men he was led by them. Bound and gagged beneath his hideous mask he was dragged from

his horse and hustled into the oast house. Out came the men again, and threw lighted torches into the building which

began to blaze. Then away they galloped, laughing.

Into the flames dashed the five, saw the Scarecrow tied to a post, freed him, and carried him out. They took him

up to the sea road, where a coach and riding horses were waiting, and putting him inside, under guard, with sir Harry

on the box seat and two others riding by the windows, they dashed back through Dymchurch, making for the

London road.

The next morning Doctor Syn was not at the Vicarage when the Squire called round to see him. The housekeeper

could give no information of where the Vicar was.

“Been out all night amongst his sick parishioners, no doubt,” thought Sir Antony Cobtree.

Now the news of Sir Harry’s wager had not been kept secret. Major Culland had seen to that, for he wished Sir

Harry and his friends to look foolish after so much boasting, and so at nine o’clock the card-room of the Bucks’

Club was packed with members and their friends.

As the clock of St. James’s chimed the hour a coach rolled up to the entrance. Two cloaked riders dismounted,

the doors were opened, and from the interior of the vehicle a queer great figure was carried by Mr. Briston, Lord

Strathway, Sir Peter Hemminge, Captain Tandyshall and Sir Harry Sales. Bearing their burden like a corpse they

mounted the grand staircase and entered the card-room, where they called for a chair and dumped the burden into it.

A dead silence fell in the room as all saw the weird dress and mask of the Scarecrow.

“Well, gentlemen, we have succeeded, and have kept our word,” cried Sir Harry. “You will now see the

Scarecrow unmasked. We took him at his work when the King’s men have been decoyed far away. Where they

failed we have succeeded.”

The mask was peeled from the head, and they saw a pale face gagged over mouth and nose,. But the gag did not

disguise the man. The Bucks’ Club were gazing open-mouthed at their most unpopular member, Major Culland.

Two men pushed through the crowd. Admiral Troubridge followed by doctor Syn of Dymchurch.

The Admiral, not sorry to find that others could be fooled by the scarecrow as he had been, roared with laughter.

“I’m glad you are here, Parson,” he laughed. “We are not the only ones the Scarecrow scores off.”

“I am disappointed,” said the Parson. “Do you know I came up to occupy the pulpit at St. Paul’s, Covent Garden,

tomorrow, and I dropped round here in the hopes of seeing our local celebrity. Do you know I nearly forgot my

preaching date in London, and only just caught the coach in time. I did not even say good-bye to the Squire or to

my servants. I sent them word though. I sent them word. I suppose this Major Culland is not really the

Scarecrow?” At which remark the whole club except the gagged member roared with laughter.