The Shadow of Dr Syn

‘Mrs. Wooley, Mr. Mipps?’ put in Cicely, with raised eyebrow.

‘Er — yes, miss — thank you, miss — poor Mrs. Wooley, miss.’ Mipps might have gone on enlarging upon that same old body’s complaint, but again she cut him short.

‘I just wondered, Mr. Mipps.’ She looked straight at him and he wriggled. ‘For I could not sleep last night, and from my window early this morning I saw strange lights in the direction of the Sluice Gates — surely that is not the direction you would take to visit her? But there, I would not pry — so if you promise me that the Vicar is quite well, why then I will not break into the holy residence.’

Mr. Mipps assured her that indeed Doctor Syn was quite well, but that the poor old gentleman was having a nice long rest after his dancings and goings-on. Then, sticking firmly to his guns, though with a suspicion of his famous wink, added, ‘And it’s a long ride to Mrs. Wooley’s….’

Cicely smiled at him and loved him for the stubborn little watchdog that he was. So, telling him to inform the Vicar that if he cared to begin his riding lessons that afternoon she would bring round Stardust and another mount, though perhaps he was not quite ready for the broad dyke jump, and she would bring the quietest in the stable. Then she was gone, sauntering across the bridge. But she turned half-way and called to the still waiting, staring Mipps:

‘Pray tell the Vicar that should he not feel well enough for his riding lesson, why then I shall visit him this evening with words of cheer — for I have my duties too as Spinster of the Parish….’

Through his window Doctor Syn, lying comfortably in his bed, had heard the passage-of-arms between his best-loved friends and loved them all the more. He had a mind to leap out from the window to the bridge and take her in his arms; but feeling as he did, relaxed and quiet — though his slight wound was painful — his heart was so full for her that all he wished to do was to lie and absorb her into his very soul. A great danger had been overcome, was past, and now he thought he could afford to wait. So there he lay and pondered on the glorious possibilities ahead, weaving yet another pattern into his ill-starred life….

Cicley strolled back through the village. She had no mind to hurry; indeed her mind was so completely his that until she saw him she must be alone; she wanted to recapture that glorious emotion of being one detached from earth, and the spirit guiding her took her to the Tower. She neither saw nor heard the many villagers who greeted her, and her expression was so beautifully remote and yet so shining that no one dared to break it; but after she had gone they whispered delightedly that ‘For sure the Squire’s youngest was in love and they knew who.’ Had they not seen as pretty a picture as they ever hoped to set eyes on, the very night before, when their beloved Vicar had led her out to dance in all her golden youth? So the gossips prattled, discussing every detail of the gay proceedings, from the little old lady’s courage to the merry impersonation of the Shadow. Though when they fell to talking of the second appearance of their idol that night they became venomous. That prowling Mr. Hyde and seek — which name, attributed to Mr. Mipps, attached itself and stuck. So the Sandgate officer of Revenue did not have a very pleasant time in Dymchurch that day, for having decided to put a bold face on it, he stayed to watch, trying to pave his way with pots of ale. But nobody seemed thirsty. Fishermen came into the Ship I

But indeed there was another reason for gaiety, for was it so rumoured that the Dragoons had been recalled to Dover, and that Major Faunce and his men would soon be off to France? For a while they were full of patriotic feeling towards these gallant soldiers, they also secretly rejoiced that now questionable activities would not be hampered. This did not seem to be so secret either, for was not practically the whole village in the Ship I

Few of the ‘Ship’ staff in the kitchen that morning recognized a smart young officer in a new uniform who put his head in at the window and greeted them, though it did not take them long when they looked more closely. ‘Why, goodness me, if it ain’t that young gentleman what breakfasted with us about a week ago.’ And so it was — Lord Cullingford who had been posted to that regiment, and who had lost no time in reporting to his commanding officer, Major Faunce.

Later that morning, as the Vicar sat in his comfortable library, Mr. Honeyballs a

So the mounted regiment made brave show as, with drums and fifes before them they took the Dover Road. But although they understood the cheers they received, they saw no humour in the tune they played, which every British regiment follows when going off to join the wars. But the village seemed to find it fu

Yet hardly had this murmur died down when through the village from the other side came marching in a brand new box of soldiers.

Chapter 21

Mr. Mipps Remembers to Forget

Mr. Mipps was highly indignant. He cursed himself for a ‘dawthering old sone of a sea-dog’, and then, correcting himself, said he was a ‘chiddering1 old landlubber’. He might have known the Captain always kept his porthole open. If only he hadn’t been so addle-brained, he might have wheedled Miss Cicely round to the other side of the house where there would only have been Mrs. Honeyballs to overhear, the old Keg-Meg.2 ‘Ridin’ lesson! My baggin’-’ook,’ he muttered to himself. ‘If the Vicar goes on bein’ fu

Mipps had reached the Court House in such a dobbin that he’d given his message to the first person he saw. It happened to be Aunt Agatha, who could hardly believe her ears, when having delivered the message he looked straight at her, through her, and past her and muttered, ‘Dawtherin’ old chidderer.’ Miss Agatha felt quite sure he did not mean her, for he pulled his forelock most respectfully and stumped off to the churchyard. Whatever Aunt Agatha felt she most certainly gave the message, for at half past two, most precise, Cicely arrived at the Vicarage on Stardust and leading one of the Squire’s most spirited horses.

Even Mr. Mipps had to admit that Doctor Syn put up a good performance, for he had approached the animal with a fine show of apprehension, patting it timidly and, after many vain attempts, climbing clumsily aboard.

‘Play-actin’,’ Mr. Mipps called it, though as he watched them riding off together he felt so strangely moved that he had to give himself a wink and a nip to get over it.