The COURAGEOUS EXPLOITS OF DOCTOR SYN - Thorndike Russell - Страница 3

dodge was. Saw me this bit of wood in half.”

He handed Mipps a scrap of wood which he picked up from the carp enters’ bench. Mipps sawed it through.

Doctor Syn took the two pieces and placed one in each of the buckets of water.

“Floating islands,” he explained. “Now with these on the surface of the water, Percy will find that the ripples of

water will break upon their edges instead of against the rims of the buckets. It will avoid the splashings. I wonder,

when I have seen poor Percy’s breeches so splashed, that I have not thought of this dodge to save him from catching

cold before. Doctor Pepper will be spared a good deal of physic in the future.”

When Percy repeated his walk down the shop, he received no splashes from the contents of the buckets, which

caused him to utter a succession of admiration gurgles at the new miracle.

Mipps picked the two pieces of wood from the water and threw them aside, and taking another section, sawed it

in half, chislled them round, planed and polished them, and dropped them, into buckets.

“Never spoil a good ship for a bit o’ tar,” he said. “Now then, Percy, get a quick step into you, and see if Doctor

Syn don’t deserve to have free delivery of well-water same as me.”

The miracle worked, and Mipps added tactfully, “This is the reward of our missionary efforts amongst the bloody

heathen, Vicar.”

“Water, water,” cried Percy, as he walked the shop once more in rehearsal for his daily rounds in the future.

“Oh, and that reminds me too,” added Mipps. “Your voice, my good lad, gets on my nerves same as it do the

Squire and the Vicar. No more of that horrible gloomy cry of yours, because I’ve whittled you a whistle what you’ll

blow instead of howling. It shrills sweeter than a Bos’n’s pipe, and I’ve fixed a lanyard for your neck, so as if you

blows it out of them noisy lips of yours it won’t drop overboard as the saying is. Here it be, so put it on and tell you

clients that the cry of water will be no more heard in the land of Israel as ‘Oly Bible says.”

Over Percy’s neck he hung a whitened cord attached to a large wooden whistle, which he thrust into Percy’s

loose mouth.

“Now then, blow, and blow hard to make it heard by the housewives,” he ordered. “And no more horrible

howlings when you’re rounding the Horn with your craft.

Once more Percy walked proudly down the shop, blowing hard upon his instrument, which sounded shrill and

clear.

“Learnt to make whistles, I did,” he explained, “from an Injun, when I and the Vicar was preaching ‘em the

Blessed gospels.

Suddenly Doctor Syn held up his hand for silence.

“I can hear another pipe,” he said.

Mipps went to the back casement and opened it, cocking his head sideways. “You’re right, Vicar. And a drum

tapping, too. It will be them Navy men marching towards us along the Hythe road.”

“They are to be billeted in my Tythe Barn,” said Doctor Syn. “You, Percy, had better get along there to be in

readiness, if you want to get their order for water. You can tell them that you have already got the job with the

Dragoons. I think, Mipps, we will ride along to welcome them.”

The waiting crowd of gossipers were disappointed when they saw Doctor Syn mount his pony and wait for Mipps

who was whistling to an aged donkey that was browsing lazily in a meadow behind the shop.

This animal, who rejoiced in the name of Lightining, because he never hurried, was officially the churchyard

donkey, where he would pull the roller over the grass between the grave stones.

Mipps ran to meet him as he slowly walked across the meadow in answer to his master’s call.

Slipping an old bridle over his head, Mipps clambered up on to the animal’s hind quarters, and grasping a rein in

each hand he manipulated his course as though he were steering with rudder strings.

Indeed there was never any doubt as to Mipp’s old vocation, even without his continual boasting on the subject,

for whatever he did smacked somehow of the sea.

Meantime the sound of the drum and fife grew nearer, and although Percy was anxious to take his first proud

walk with his yoke along the village street, he thought it wisest to go the short cut across the fields in order to reach

the Tythe Barn before the arrival of the Navy men.

He had made a good contract with the Dragoons. He could not carry all the squadron buckets for horses and

men, but he had insisted on his right to work the windlass on the well, and for each ten pailfuls he was paid one

penny by the Quartermaster. He hoped to secure an even better bargain from the naval men, and as he swung along

over the fields behind the village, he rehearsed what he would say.

While Doctor Syn waited for Mipps to steer his mount on to the road, he exchanged morning greetings with his

parishioners, apologizing for having immediate need of his Sexton, and urging them, as they appeared to be at a

loose end, to hurry along the street to the other end of the village and to give the strangers a hearty welcome within

their gates.

“What with those gallant Dragoons cantering over there,” he said, “and these jolly sea-dogs arriving from Dover,

we hope that soon o ur village will be free of this wretched smuggling business, and that the mysterious Scarecrow

will trouble the March no more.

“If they catch him, sir,” replied one of them, “it will be a great occasion when he comes to be hanged. Would

they try him at the Court Houses, sir?”

“Of course,” nodded Doctor Syn. “As Leveller of Marsh Scotts, our good Squire would preside, and he would be

judged by the Lords of the Level. As you say it will be a great occasion. He has given our good Marsh an evil

reputation for too long. They talk about the Scarecrow even in busy London, where you would think they had

enough criminals of their own, without concerning themselves with ours.”

“But he does concern ‘em, sir,” went on the fisherman. “They say he not only lands the goods hereabouts and

takes it to the ‘hides,’ but looks after their disposal with the receivers in London. All I can say is that if that’s true

he must be busier than I’d care to be. It’s one thing to ride the Marsh, and scare honest folk from off of it, but

another to run the business side as well.”

Doctor Syn nodded. “He must be a very busy man indeed. I like hard work myself, but after riding the Marsh all

day looking after my scattered flock, I find parochial accounts very irksome in the evenings. What you have said

makes me feel almost sorry for the Scarecrow. I only wish he would rest from his ill-chosen labours.”

As soon as Mipps had persuaded Lightning on to the road, Doctor Syn led the way along the street, followed at a

respectful distance by the villagers, who were joined by others as they passed the scattered cottages and shops, so

that by the time they had entered the Avenue on the way to the church, they mustered a considerable crowd, and

completely blocked the roadway.

The Dragoons, who had finished with their morning exercise, and had trotted in sections of fours behind their

squadron leader, Major Faunce, were obliged to break down into a walk and finally to halt.

The Major by riding on to the footpath was able to bring his charger to the front, where he reined up alongside

Doctor Syn.

“Good morning, Major,” said the Vicar. “It seems that it is a case of ‘All the King’s horses and all the King’s

men,’ come to rid us of our parochial danger. I begin to think that it is money thrown away. I cannot think that the

Scarecrow is of flesh and blood. Do you really think he will ever be caught?”

“If the Navy catches him,” replied the handsome young office, “I will agree that we of the Army are the second