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Thats the Scarecrow, whispered Beelzebub. Thats the great man hisself.
One of the jack-o-lanterns trotted off on his pony toward this figure, and Jerk saw him salute the Scarecrow, who handed him a paper. Saluting again, the youngster came back to Beelzebub, who took the paper from him and read it carefully by the light of the young jacks lantern. These boys carried lanterns fixed upon long poles, bearing them standard fashion as they rode.
As he was reading, Beelzebub kept catching in his breath in an excited ma
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on Romney Marsh, a horse wot ud make the Prince Regents mouth water, a
horse more valuable to the Scarecrow than the Bank of England ud be.
But wheres he gone to? asked Jerry.
About his business and thine, Jack Ketch, answered Beelzebub.
I wish Id seen him go, returned Jerry, for I likes to see a good horse on the move. He went very silent, didnt he?
Youll never hear the noise of the Scarecrows horse a-trottin, Jack Ketch, cos hes got pads on his hoofs. Ah! hes up to some tricks, is the Scarecrow, and, by hell! hell need em to-night.
Why? asked Jerk.
Because hes had word passed from Hellspite that the Kings men are out, and Scarecrow thinks as how we may have to fight em.
And dont you want to do that?
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Why, you see it ud be awkward if any of us got wounded, as wounded men aint easy things to hide in a village now, is they? and it ud be a difficult business to explain. Though, come to that, Scarecrow aint never put out for an explanation o nothing.
As he was speaking, Beelzebub took Jerrys rein and started off again at the head of the cavalcade. Their way was now along the road the Scarecrow had gone, and when they had ridden for about half a mile they again sighted him, sitting his horse stockstill in the middle of the road, but this time he was not alone, for there were some half-dozen men leading packponies from the road into a large field. Toward this field Beelzebub led his cavalcade, and consequently they had to pass the grim figure called the Scarecrow. Jerry was ambitious to get a near view of this strange personage, for he wanted if possible to pierce his disguise and see if he could recognize the features. But the nearer he got, the stranger the strange figure became. If it was any one that he knew,
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then it was only the scarecrow in Mippss turnip field, for he was as like that as two peas are alike to each other.
And the voice was not like any voice he could put an owner to, although there was something familiar in it. It was a hard, metallic voice, the voice of a commander.
The Kings men are watching the Mill House Farm, so, Beelzebub, you will circle the packponies as usual till we get half a mile from the house, then you will cut off and decoy them from the rear. If your attack is sudden and fierce they will have all they can do to defend themselves, and so that will afford the Mill House Farm men time to get their packponies in with the others. I will see that they get them away safely, and when you have shaken off the Kings men pick us up again on the Romney road opposite Littlestone Beach. Understood?
Understood, Scarecrow, understood, replied Beelzebub promptly.
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And, went on the strange man, you will stick by Jack Ketch as far as possible, and dont let him get into any needless danger. I want him to see all the fun that is possible, but I dont want any hurt to come to him. If I alter the plans, Ill pass the word. Understood?
Understood, Scarecrow, understood, repeated Beelzebub.
Then off you go!
And off they did go, the packponies, trotting under their heavy loads of wool, keeping along the edges of the field, and this with a very good purpose, for where the dykes run zigzag over Romney Marsh a thick mist arises some eight feet high, and even upon nights of full moon these mists hang about the dykes like heavy rolls of a spiders web, contrasting strangely with the rest of the country, which is all bright and easily seen. And now Jerk had to ride even faster than before, for the packponies, entirely hidden by the mist curtains, were circled and circled all the way by the galloping demons and jack-o
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lanterns, these last swinging their pole lights round their heads and uttering strange cries like those of the Marsh fowl, weird and ominous. This accounted, then, for all the ghost tales he had heard, for all the ghostly things those not in the secret had seen upon the Marsh, and a very clever scheme Jack thought it was, and a very good way of clearing the ground of the curious. For there is no power like superstition, and nothing that spreads quicker or is more grossly exaggerated than tales of horror and fear. So on they rode in wild circles round and round the packponies. Beelzebub was the actual leader. He it was who gave the orders, but the mysterious Scarecrow would dash out of the mist every now and again just to see that all was well with the legion, and then as quickly would he disappear, borne away like a ghost upon that spectral gray thoroughbred. and round the packponies. Beelzebub was the actual leader. He it was who gave the orders, but the mysterious Scarecrow would dash out of the mist every now and again just to see that all was well with the legion, and then as quickly would he disappear, borne away like a ghost upon that spectral gray thoroughbred.
Jerry of course knew the terror with which the pallid host could affect the unwary wayfarerfor had he not seen them himself on the night of
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with fright as he scattered the crackling sticks. The young mother just avoided Jerrys horse as he came crashing through after Beelzebub, and the shriek of fear that she gave made Jerry turn heartsick as he reined in his mount.