mankind in dreams as a means of giving warnings, orders or comfort.

“And now, my daughter,” he said kindly as he closed his bible, “perhaps you are wondering why I have read

about so many God-sent dreams. I will tell you. The age of such miracles is not yet over, for last night I dreamed a

dream, which may be full of comfort to you. I seemed to see your husband riding with the Scarecrow’s men, and

when I upbraided him for thus breaking the law, he told me that he had done so in order to make more money for

your happiness. The scene then changed and I saw him fishing in the Hart boat. Captain blain and his men hailed

him from the beach, and when he rowed ashore they fell upon him and then until he betrayed the Scarecrow. I

awoke with the feeling that this was true, and while we keep this to ourselves I will try to find out the truth. Perhaps

this very day I may discover where he is, and then I will do what I can to restore him to you.”

Leaving the young woman with this ray of hope, Doctor Syn proceeded to the Coffin Shop for a word with

Mipps, whom he found busy at his bench.

“Any more news about Hart, my good Mipps?” he asked.

“Only a bit of guesswork, Vicar,” replied the Sexton, “which I takes to be as good as news. If Hart was ever in

the Tythe Barn as a prisoner, which according to Percy is a fact, well then, there he is still, ‘cos I’ve had both doors

watched as you ordered, and no one but the King’s men have gone out or in. Even Percy ain’t allowed inside when

he carries round the water-buckets from the well. Why? ‘Cos they don’t wish him to know that Hart’s alive and in

their power. One comfort is that he don’t know nothing that can harm the Scarecrow, and if you was to leave him to

his fate, well it might be hard on his wife, but no more than he deserves for having tried to betray us.”

“If we leave him to his fate, my good Mipps,” said the Vicar quietly, “he’ll be shipped to the Plantations, and his

wife will never hear of him again. We must be merciful to her, and thwart this Captain Blain. Besides, it touches

the reputation of the scarecrow. Anyone betraying him must be judged by him. I have settled how to punish Fred

Hart, but to carry out the punishment he must first be rescued from the Captain. And for that end, my friend, I want

you to cut me a strong wooden wedge from the outside of the Captain’’ room at the Vicarage.”

“I was wondering when you was going to batten him down,” chuckled the sexton. “Been a bit awkward having

had him on top of us, so to speak.”

“It had had its advantages, too,” replied the Vicar. “I billeted him at the Vicarage for two reasons. First that he

would have no suspicions that I could be connected with the scarecrow, and secondly, so that I could keep an eye on

him, and an ear, too. I confess that he’’ s close an oyster as ever I met, for not even in his cups can I make him talk

about his plans. He confines his conversation to naval gossip concerning our old friend Admiral Troubridge, and to

the family history and qualities of his junior officers abroad the Dover Guard ship. I know all about them, but of his

plans, nothing.”

By this time Mipps had fashioned a neat wedge which he handed to his master, saying, “Whether the Captain

snores or no, I should put that in his door whenever things move at night on the Marsh.”

Doctor Syn put it in his pocket. “Thank you, I will, for the Captain’s snores are no longer reassuring to me.

They sound convincing enough, but last night during his nasal trumpetings I heard the squeak of his shutter’s hinge

as he crept to look out of the casement. I know now that the Captain does not snore when asleep, but only when

he’s very much awake. I shall therefore wedge his door when I am ready to join the Nightriders at the Oast House

at Doubledyke’s. You have passed the word for arms and horses?”

Mipps nodded. “thirty, s you ordered, with a spare horse. I suppose now that the extra mount is for Fred hart,

and that we attack the barn.”

Doctor Syn nodded back. “In the meantime continue the watch on the doors, although I think the Captain will

not attempt to move his prisoner in daylight, since it is against his interest to let anyone know that hart is alive.

Keep watch though, all the same.”

Later, at dinner, Doctor Syn tested Captain Blain by asking whether he would be attending the memorial service

to Fred Hart which would be held for the parish if no one brought news that he was alive.

“I think, Vicar, that there can be no doubt as to his death, and that it is quite right to hold the service. I dare say

some of my men would like to attend. I shall come myself out of respect to his widow.”

For which piece of hypocrisy Doctor Syn scored up another mental black mark against his guest.

Earlier than usual that night Doctor Syn suggested retiring to bed. “One of my flock is very ill,” he explained.

“and Doctor Pepper tells me the crisis is at hand, so I must hold myself in readiness for being awakened in the night.

I have also told the Hart family to summon me should poor Fred’s wife need spiritual comfort. We must do what

little we can.”

“I applaud you for taking your duties so seriously, Parson,” replied the Captain.

“I suppose you are right, and that Hart is dead,” went on Doctor Syn, “but what mystifies me is not that such a

good fisherman should be capsized, which might happen to the best, but that the boat should have been so savagely

holed when there is but sand in Dymchurch Bay. The nearest rocks, and they are not dangerous , are Sandgate one

way and Littlestone the other. As you must know, they are flat shelves and amply covered at high tide for a fishing

boat. Neither was there a high sea running that night, they tell me.”

“The revenue cutter reported a high wind and something of a swell,” explained the Captain. “His boat may have

been dropped on to some ugly piece of wreckage.”

“I think that unlikely,” returned the Vicar. “Do you know, I have been wondering whether there was any foul

play, though I can find no reason to suppose that the young man had enemies.” The Vicar sighed. “I would give a

lot to be able to hold out some hope to that poor girl.”

“Your suggestion of foul play, Parson has made me wonder whether he might not have been murdered by this

Scarecrow’s orders, for we know him as an unscrupulous rascal.”

Doctor Syn looked shocked. “Surely you have no grounds for any suspicion against young Hart? You do not

suggest that he has been a law-breaker? I have always looked upon him as loyal to both Church and Government.”

“I am glad to hear you say so, since he has gone to his account,” replied the Captain. “After all, you knew the

man, and I did not.” And for this lie Doctor Syn registered another black mark to be dealt with in his dealings with

the Captain.

That night the sailors in the Tythe Barn turned in sooner than usual, for Mipps had taken round two barrels of

rum with the compliments of Mrs. Waggetts, landlady of the Ship Inn, and with their own allowance the Bos’n and

his men were drunker than ever. Even the man on watch allowed himself to sit down, and was soon nodding over

his drawn cutlass that rested on his knees.

Their awakening was surprising and alarming. A clattering of hooves; the cry of the awakened sentry as his

cutlass was struck from his grasp; and then the sharp orders from a terrible figure who had ridden a great black horse

into the barn. Behind him were a score of other mounted figures masked hideously and carrying Jack-o’-Lanterns.

These devils on horseback were all armed, and their leader was crying out to the Bos’n to get out of his hammock,