In spite of the added forces against them, with the coming of the Navy men, all concerned congratulated

themselves that there had never been a landing run to the hills more smoothly, for by the time the goods had been

dispersed amongst the ‘hides,’ and horses and pack-ponies had been returned to their various stables there was not a

sore head that sought its pillow, two hours before the dawn. Not a blow had been struck, except a mighty one

against the pride of Captain Blain, who did not reach his bed without an unpleasant storm of derision from the

soldiery.

“I think in future, sir,” Major Faunce had remarked icily, “that we had better work separately, or with a fuller

confidence together. How you got your information of a landing upon Littlestone Beach I do not know. Had you

thought fit to tell me I might have been able to see that it was but a red herring drawn across the trail by the

Scarecrow’s order. You forget, sir, that I have had a pretty good experience of his cleverness, and as you can now

see for yourself, the clue that lured you to Littlestone was just to ensure that you were there, wasting your time.

Until we realize that the Scarecrow is a good deal cleverer than we are, we shall get nowhere.”

“It will not be very long, Major Faunce,” retorted the captain, “before I invite you to attend the Scarecrow’s

hanging. I have never been the man to give up a fight because my opponent has the advantage of me in the first

round, and I have not yet begun to fight the Scarecrow. I promise you that he will not fool the senior service while I

represent it, as he has fooled the junior o ne.”

“Your manner, Captain Blain,” retorted the Major, “suggests a challenge, which I am perfectly willing to take up.

You say that you will invite me to the scarecrow’s hanging. Personally I confess that I have no great faith that either

of us will catch him, much less hang him. You forget that we are dealing with a person who was once imprisoned in

a cell at the top of Dover Castle, and yet managed to fly out of the window and float through the air like a witch on a

broomstick. At least this was vouched for by members of the Castle staff and the sentries. However, hopeless as I

take our task to be, I’ll yet wager you a hundred guineas that I will catch this criminal before you do. Let it be a

rivalry between us. If one of us succeeds, well, it will be all the better for the Marsh.”

“I doubt that indeed,” responded the Captain. “The prosperity of this little village is not due to the munificence

of the Squire, with whom you lodge, but to the good money which is slipping through the fingers of the Revenue.”

When the village woke to work the following morning, everybody seemed to know that there was open friction

between the two camps ranged against the scarecrow.

But the same capacity for gleaning information which Dymchurch seemed to possess, had as yet no news

concerning the missing Fred Hart, for Percy was late at the Coffin Shop, fearing to tell Mipps that he had changed

the signs, and when he eventually did so, Mipps kept the information for only the ears of Doctor Syn.

When Percy sheepishly entered the Coffin Shop with the two hearts in his buckets, he saw to his horror that Judy

was standing upon the coffin lid, and as he blinked guiltily at the idol he was aware that the Sexton was unstrapping

the thick belt that held his breeches. He shuddered as he saw the great brass buckle, and imagined it cutting into his

flesh, especially as Mipps was demanding sharply what he meant by changing the floats without permission.

Fear made him drawl out a lie which his simple brain told him might be a good excuse.

“I asked her about it,” he stammered. “You was out, or I’d have asked you, Mister Mipps. I wanted to.”

“But why did you do it?” demanded the angry Sexton.

“I done it out of respect to the old Harts,” he drawled. “They was always good to me, same as you, and I thought

s how it would please ‘em what with their Golden Wedding, and them not having lost poor Fred after all, as yet”

“What’s that?” snapped Mipps. “As yet? What do you mean by, ‘As yet’?”

Thereupon Percy recounted what he had overheard outside the barn, and all he had done after it, adding as a great

confession of guilt: “And I stole a pinch of snuff from your tin up yonder. I done that to cure myself of the snivels,

what come when I heard about the Hart boat, I come back here as I told you to get the two hearts, I did. I was wrong

about the snuff. I didn’t mean to be a thief, but you can belt me for that if you please.”

“You keep your mouth shut, now,” replied Mipps, “and don’t tell no one what you’ve told me, and then no one

won’t be the wiser. I don’t think I’ll have to belt you, seeing as how you did what you thought best, but I’ll have to

go and ask the Vicar what he thinks.”

Doctor Syn had an amusing breakfast watching the disgruntled Captain, who was in the worst of tempers, and

could not be led into conversation.

It was while preparing to read Matins that he met Mipps in the vestry, and heard the news dragged out of Percy.

He took a serious view of the fact that Fred Hart had betrayed them and was still a prisoner.

“He’ll get no mercy now from Captain Blain,” he said. “But we cannot see him hang, for the sake of his wife and

him, and then deal with his case. As to Percy, I agree with you, Mipps, that your belt would be a scurvy thanks, and

it occurs to me that anyone who can look such a fool and yet act so promptly should be enrolled on the scarecrow’s

pay list. I’ll leave you to deal with him, while I devise a scheme for snatching Fred Hart from the Captain’s guard.”

3

THE SCARECROW RUNS UP HIS FLAG

In the bedroom of a little white-washed cottage tucked away under the sea-wall, Doctor Syn sat one morning reading

the Scriptures to a young mother propped up with pillows nursing her new-born son. Her beautiful face was stained

with tears, for despite the fact of the comforting presence of the Vicar, whom all the parish of Dymchurch knew as

the holiest of men, she had black despair in her heart. For three days she had received no news of her husband, alive

or dead. The boat in which he had been fishing had been washed into Dymchurch Bay, capsized and badly holed.

Mrs. Hart could not believe that her Fred had been picked up by some ship outward bound, which was the only

comfort held out to her by sympathetic villagers. Four Dymchurch men, however, knew that he was alive and near

at hand: the Vicar, the Sexton, the Highwayman and the water-carrier. Captain Blain from the guard Ship at Dover

knew it too, and so did his sea-dogs who were billeted for the time being in the Tythe Barn during their search for

smugglers. But Blain saw to it that his men kept the knowledge to themselves when talking to the villagers.

He had kept Fred Hart a close prisoner in the barn and had by mental and physical torture compelled him to

confess that he had not only worked for the scarecrow and his gang of smugglers, but had made him betray the place

of landing for the next cargo. Unfortunately for the traitor, the scarecrow had been warned in time by Percy, the

half-witted water-carrier, and so it appeared to the Captain that Hart had deliberately lied, and he determined to

show him no mercy. Neither had he any intention of putting his young wife out of her misery.

Doctor Syn was more merciful, and although he could not impart knowledge that he had gained as the Scarecrow,

he resolved to drop a hint to the wife that she was not yet a widow.

With this end in view, he selected for his reading such passages from Holy Writ, that dealt with God visiting