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determined to prove it in his own defense, and if possible do something more to save the village from disaster, and
so, since he had not met Mipps anywhere during the evening, and therefore had to continue to work on his own
initiative, such as it was, he informed his mother at supper that since the Sexton had been so kind to him he was
going to give him a surprise by digging him some lug.
He set out with his spade and tin, digging along just above the water line. He took no lantern, for the moon was
full, and he worked his way towards Littlestone. He met no one on the way, and no one could see him from any
distance, as the flat sands were swept by lowlying wreaths of mist. This made it an ideal night for the King’s men,
who lay in ambush behind one of the great wooden breakwaters.
Percy first sensed their presence by hearing a horse neigh, and as he crept towards the shadow of the sea-wall, the
moon caught the glint of a Dragoon’s helmet on the beach beyond.
As he crouched listening, the only sound that reached him above the continual swish and grinding of the waves,
was an occasional creak of leather, or the champing of a bit.
He wondered whether the sailors were on the same section of beach, or somewhere hidden on the Marsh behind
the sea-wall. He realized that any Dymchurch man who had not received his warning would walk into a trap here,
and so he retraced his steps and on the smooth sand drew with his spade two large hearts side by side.
He then made his way back to the village and went to bed. He was fast asleep long before the scarecrow and his
lieutenant, Hellspite, galloped along the sands towards Littlestone.
Suddenly the Scarecrow pulled up his fierce black horse and pointed. The moon shone upon Percy’s hearts.
The Scarecrow’s companion had pulled up as suddenly as his master, and from behind the hideous mask of
Hellspite came Mipp’s whisper: “Dungeness, Sou’west. Someone has altered our plan.”
“Hold Gehe
Hellspite took the bridle while his master dismounted and crawled forward toward the breakwater, listening.
He returned with the news that the Navy men were entrenched behind the breakwater and the squadron of
Dragoons were beneath the sea-wall.
“So the rival forces are working together against us after all,” he whispered, as he silently remounted. “Someone
has betrayed us, and someone has altered our plans, as you say. I would sooner have risked a brush with the enemy
than that anyone should dare to cancel the Scarecrow’s orders. On to Dungeness, by way of the Marsh.”
The mist concealed them as they rode up a sandy path that ran from the beach over the high sea-wall, and down
again upon the other side to the Marsh.
On reaching the far side of the Ness, after a wild gallop, they found everything ready for the landing, just as it
had been arranged for Littlestone. The gangs were set in parties of eight to a boat, and only waited the Scarecrow’s
arrival to begin operations. The beach was guarded by a cordon of thirty mounted Nightriders, and as Doctor Syn
rode down the beach, their leader rode up to meet him.
“In contact with the ships yet?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Aye, aye, Scarecrow,” replied the leader, whom Doctor Syn and Mipps knew to be the Highwayman, “and the
boats are ready loaded and waiting to pull in.”
The Scarecrow raised his right arm above his head, and immediately the thirty wheeled their horses and galloped
down to the water-line. The signal was given: three hoots of an owl, three cries of a curlew, and four screams of a
gull.
With muffled oars some twenty boats pulled in out of the mist and the waiting gangs waded into the water to
unload.
Doctor Syn watched the tubs coming ashore to be lifted upon the pack-ponies. Not only were the boats well
loaded, but great rafts of lashed barrels were floated in their wake and dragged ashore by ropes.
“A good landing,” whispered the Scarecrow.
“Aye, and thanks to the new code, every man got the warning of your changed plan.” Replied the Highwayman.
“They guessed you had some good reason for the change, and worked with a will to get here in time.”
“Aye, we would have had a rougher landing on Littlestone Beach, with a full ambush of soldiers and sailors to
contend with,” said the Scarecrow. “We must find out how they got information.”
“The two hearts in Percy’s buckets did the trick,” went on the Highwayman, “and we gave Littlestone a wide
berth.”
The Scarecrow looked at Mipps and whispered, “So that was it.”
“Aye,” replied the Highwayman, “and the boys have done nothing but whisper admiration for the Scarecrow’s
cleverness. Them signs in the buckets is certainly a master-stroke.”
“I marvel that I never thought of it before,” said the Scarecrow.
When the last barrel was ashore, and the pack-ponies loaded, the carriers slung tubs on their shoulders, and
guided by the thirty riders, the long trek across the March began. Doctor Syn waited till the last boat had pulled
back to the ships that were hidden in the mist. He heard the anchors shipped, and then across the water came the
same signal as had been given from the beach.
“All’s well and away,” he chuckled to Mipps, “ and the worth of some three thousand pounds crossing the Marsh
already. I think our lads will all be a-bed before the King’s men realize they have been fooled. I fancy my guest
will not be in the best of tempers in the morning.”
“And not a smell of powder from the revenue cutter, neither,” replied Mipps. ‘And to think it were all through
that looney Percy disobeying my orders. But you know, sir,” he added, “although the idiot has saved us from a
pitched battle on Littlestone Beach, and without knowing it kept many a tough skull uncracked, I’ll have to belt him
for all that.”
“For my part,” said Doctor Syn, “I am glad to find that it was but the work of an idiot, and not the clever
officiousness of one of our o wn men. I should deal gently with him and not give him the chance to do such a thing
again. I would be highly dangerous. You must keep that set of signs away from his fingers in future.”
“You mean I’m not to belt him?” asked Mipps.
“You can discover if you can what induced him to do it,” went on Syn. “But I doubt whether he’ll know by
tomorrow. We must bear in mind that the poor lad is simple.”
As they galloped after the cavalcade across the Marsh, Syn instructed Mipps to find out whether any of the
Nightriders had heard news of the missing fisherman, Hart. “We must remember, Mipps, that he is not only one of
my parishioners, but also a Scarecrow’s man, and the more I think of that stove boat, the more I suspect foul play.
Now Fred had no enemies. He was a good companion to all. But the Scarecrow has plenty, and there is always the
possibility that one or more of them, unable to get at the scarecrow, are trying to do so through one of his followers.
It is significant that it should happen immediately upon the arrival of Captain Blain. If my guest knows anything of
the matter he’ll be hard put to it to conceal his knowledge from me. That is the advantage of having him at the
vicarage.
“We’ll get Jimmie Bone to keep his ears open,” returned Mipps. “He has a rare knack of picking up information.
His ‘orrid trade of a robber has taught him that.”
“Aye, tell him we must know what has happened to Fred Hart,” said Syn. “Until we can question him alive, or
examine his dead body, we shall not know who has done this thing, and we have enough dangers to cope with,
without the greatest one, which is Uncertainty. Find out what you can.”