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happened to him during those absences was his own good business, and not ques tioned.
In their admiration, begrudged and yet sincere, the authorities in London wondered how the Scarecrow, with the
vast organization of hides and ru
the cha
which he ordained.
With French spies rife in London the Admiralty commissioned Bow Street Ru
these agents, not on political questions, but for some clue to lead them to the French headquarters of the scarecrow’s
shipping. That the Scarecrow had to visit France from time to time they guesses, and the packet-boats were watched
for anyone who might be him. They were cute enough to guess right. The Scarecrow did have to visit France, and
on those occasions Doctor Syn was forced to find an alibi for his clerical absence. This was simple. The Vicar of
Dymchurch was also the Dean of Peculiars, and in that capacity had to journey like bishops and archdeacons
amongst the clergy under him.
As the clergy of the Marshes affirmed in his praise, the good and generous cleric over them never grudged
spending some days in an endeavour to assist some remote parish. Therefore, when it became necessary for the
Scarecrow to visit France, Doctor Syn arranged a temporary leave from his parish in order to undertake some remote
visitation. On such occasion, Mipps accompanied him as his servant.
Doctor Syn’s parochial visitations took him frequently across the Sussex border to occupy the pulpit in the
picturesque town of Rye, in which resided many French families, descended from the Huguenot refugees, who had
never returned across the Cha
long poles and French blouses were a familiar sight to the townsfolk.
In Dymchurch, however, the onion boy was as rare a sight as an American Indian, so one day when an onion
bearer came slouching along the sea-wall and asked for the house of Monsieur Mipps, a crowd of laughing and
inquisitive school children accompanied him to the Coffin Shop, where Mipps soon sent them about their business.
Along with the sexton the boy asked, “Monsieur Mipps?” To which Mipps answered, “Monsieur Mipps, moi,
but I don’t want no onions.” From the string the boy detached one onion and handed it to the Sexton, who shook his
head emphatically.
The boy nodded vigorously and said, “Regardez.” With his little finger he pushed the on ion from the bottom,
peeled off the outer skin, and Mipps saw a small row of parchment sticking out from the top of the bulb. As he drew
it out the boy said, “L’Epouvantail.”
“And that’s Froggy for Scarecrow,” said Mipps. “A message, eh? That’s queer. Well, I’ll see it gets to him, and
find you a pe
To make his promise good, Mipps retired to the back of the shop and found a pe
returning the onion boy had gone, and Mipps realized that he had not understood a word he had said. So with a
pe
about, he decided to seek out the Vicar at once, knowing that the writing would not trouble Doctor Syn who could
write and speak French as well as English.
The Sexton found the Vicar in his study at work on a sermon, which he interrupted by telling the adventure of the
onion.
“To write letters is not encouraged in the Scarecrow’s legion.” Whispered Syn when he had signed to Mipps to
lock the door. “It must be something serious. Give it to me.”
The note was written in print hand, and Doctor Syn translated it to Mipps as he read.
“THE SCARECROW’S ORDERS FOR NEXT RUN MUST BE CANCELLED. OUR PRISONERS HAVE
MUTINIED AND SEIZED BOTH STORES AND ARMOURY. THEY DEMAND A LUGGER IN WHICH TO
RETURN TO ENGLAND AND FREEDOM. OTHERWISE THEY HOLD OUT, WHICH THEY CAN WEE DO
FOR SIX MONTHS OR MORE. THEIR ARMS COMMAND THE QUAY. THEY FIRE ON ANY MAN WHO
CROSSES IT. ANY COMMUNICATION IS MADE THROUGH THEIR WOMEN-FOLK. BY THE WAY THE
LAST PRISONER, HART, IS WITH THEM, AND HIS WIFE AND BABY REACHED HERE SAFELY. WE
CANNOT LOAD OUR CARGO. WE ARE SHORTHANDED AND UNDER THREATENED ATTACK. WE
HAVE GREAT NEED OF L’EPOUVANTAIL. YOUR SERVANT, DULOGE.”
Doctor Syn looked at Mipps and said quietly, “It is the first time that our prisoners have taken concerted action
against us.”
“Do you think it’s young Hart that’s put fight into ‘em?” asked Mipps. “The rest have all been there a long time.
Some of ‘em a very long time. Broken men with no hope and no spirit.”
Doctor Syn nodded. “Aye, Mipps. When I last saw them I thought of them as ghosts. Ghosts of their former
selves. But what could we do other than what we did? They were traitors all. As each one was tried by the Nightriders, he knew they deserved death, too. They were given their choice. Each man chose exile. Their lot might
have been far worse. Their wives and in some cases their children were kidnapped and sent after them, and those
who repented and promised loyal service in the future, were allowed married quarters. There was never complaint
against their rations. They live better than they would on Romney Marsh. True they have to work, and work harder
than they might have had to do at home, but they must never forget that they are working out their own salvation, for
I think the sin of treachery will be the most grievous count against a si
behind this mutiny. I ca
rescued him. He then expected death at our hands. Instead of which the wife and child he loved have been sent to
him in safety. At his trial at the Oast House he was penitent and grateful for the mercy shown him. Well, we must
go to France and look into it.”
“Let’s see,” said Mipps, “there’s eighteen prisoners besides hart, and all ablebodied men. That means we must
take our biggest boat, for we’ll need some thirty of our men to raise this ‘ere siege.”
Doctor Syn smiled and shook his head. “You and I, with the help of Duloge, will be enough to raise ‘this ‘ere
siege, as you call it.”
“I meant ‘that there siege,’ Vicar. Sorry,” replied Mipps, gri
French same as you only not so good, and he knows the place well. He’ll want to come with us, too.”
“But I want him here, Mipps. He is the only one we can trust to take the Scarecrow’s place. Remember, Captain
Blain is still here, and we must not let him think that his presence has scared the Scarecrow. We will sail for France
tonight. I’ll go to the Squire now and tell him I am bound for Rye, and may not be back for a day or so.”
“And what are we going to Rye for this time?” asked Mipps. “We ain’t due to preach there, you know, till next
month.”
“You forget the confirmation candidates,” replied Syn. “The young people are so important. The future pillars
of the parishes, my good Mipps. I think I should tell them myself what a privilege it is for them to have the
Archbishop himself willing to lay his hands upon their heads.”
“All right, sir,” gri
the way to Sussex to tell the young ‘uns that the Aggerbagger is coming along to tap ‘em on the skulls hisself.”
“Aye, Mipps,” laughed Syn, “a little grumbling on your part will not be amiss. Neither will it be amiss if Jimmie