whose places had been taken by those who had learned the code quickest, the Scarecrow warned his men that

Captain Blain would be a real danger, since he was a man of ingenuity, but that if they kept rigidly to the orders he

gave, they could feel confident that the ‘runs’ would be carried out in safety.

He then dismissed them with the order to be prepared for a big ‘landing’ on the following night, and to keep a

weather-eye open for the water-carrier’s buckets.

By ten o’clock Doctor Syn was supping pleasantly with the Captain, but though he gave his guest many details of

the Scarecrow’s past achievements, he was still unable to make the Captain communicative concerning his own

plans, save that he intended to take his men for a night march in order to accustom them at once into the sort of night

work they would be called upon to carry out till the Scarecrow was caught and placed in irons.

“We shall be setting out at midnight, Vicar,” he said.

“Has I not a sermon to prepare against next Sunday, I might have offered you my services as a guide,” replied

Doctor Syn. “But I shall be working after midnight, I fear. My parish is so scattered, and I have so many of my

flock down with the Marsh ague, that I get little time for study during the day, and even in the night hours I am no

more free from being called from my bed than is our good physician Doctor Pepper.”

“Ah well,” said the Captain, “we shall steer a safe enough course I make no doubt, even though it may be taken

by cutlass point. And if you will kindly loan me a key to your front door, I shall be able to let myself in without any

disturbance.”

Doctor Syn did not sit up long after midnight. He did not need to prepare a sermon. He could always depend

upon his own ready tongue when the moment came. It amused him to preach dry-as-dust sermons, because no man

in the Church had an easier facility for preaching good ones that gripped a congregation when he felt the occasion

warranted it. He only became dry-as-dust, to prevent his own preferment in the Church. He did not seek publicity

or popularity as a preacher because it would not have suited his book at all to be transferred from little Dymchurch.

Knowing the value of conserving his strength, he went to bed and to sleep directly the Captain had set out,

knowing also that for that night at least the sea-dogs could do no harm upon the Marsh, which they would find

utterly deserted.

He was awakened by Mrs. Fowey, the housekeeper, with a cup of chocolate at nine o’clock, and so good a host

he was that he ordered her to let the Captain sleep.”

“I have no idea when he came in from his duty,” he said, “but I told him to ring when he woke and needed

chocolate and shaving water. Did you hear him come in?”

Mrs. Fowey had not.

As it happened the Captain had let himself in very quietly about six o’clock, for Percy had seen the sailors return

muddy and weary when he was working the windlass for his first pair of buckets, which he carried round to the

Coffin Shop earlier than usual, since he was anxious to see the new pieces of wood which Mipps had told him about

the night before.

He found the Sexton still in his hammock when he peeped through the open casement, and blew loudly upon his

whistle.

“Belay there with that pipe,” ordered Mipps, “while I lights up mine. Then I’ll show a leg and let you abroad.

Mipps stretched and yawned, and then took a tinderbox from the oak beam above his head and lit his short clay

pipe. He then gripped the beam with his fingers, and unhooked the head end of the hammock, then swinging

himself along to the other end he let the hammock fall to the ground, dropping down lightly on the top of it. He then

rolled it up in man-of-war’s fashion, and stowed it away upon a shelf. All this time clouds of tobacco smoke

surrounded his head. He went to the door and raised the bar, letting Percy in.

“There are your floats,” said the Sexton, pointing to eight neatly chiselled pieces of wood which lay on the coffin

lid

While Percy lifted them carefully one by one, with many a gurgle of delight, Mipps went to another shelf and

took down a tin which Percy knew of old contained snuff.

“You’ll keep them signs here, my lad,” announced the Sexton, “ and each morning I’ll tell you which ones we’ll

put in, eh? Sometimes we’ll have hearts, and sometimes diamonds, clubs or spades, as the fancy strikes us, eh?: I’ll

wager the villagers will be wondering every journey you take which ones will be floating in them bucket. I

shouldn’t be surprised if it don’t encourage betting more than a race-meeting.”

“Will you chooses one and me choose one?” asked Percy, “or do we go turn and turn about?”

“We’ll always ask Judy,” replied the Sexton solemnly, “and I’ll go and ask her now.”

Judy was the mane of a wooden idol which Mipps had acquired in the east Indies. A female figure with large

ears, sleepy-looking eyes, and elaborately carved necklace upon her naked breasts, a tall head-dress and a skirt with

carved snakes all over it. Her hands were clasped upon her middle as she stood with bare feet upon hr block of

wood.

This brown figure, which was about a foot in height, possessed Percy with vague terrors for the soul of mister

Mipps. He thought it misguided of a Christian sexton to posses an idol, until its owner had assured him solemnly

that he had himself baptized the goddess into the Christian Faith, and given her the good name of Judy in place of a

long heathenish title which he had never been able to pronounce.

Mipps held a piece of parchment in front of the idol and thrust his little finger through the crook of her arm.

‘Now, Judy, my beauty,” began the Sexton,” we wants you to point out with the help of my finger, since you

can’t move your own off your belly, which floats will be lucky for Percy to place in his buckets. Take your time,

my girl, and choose. First which of these signs goes in the right one. Here they all be drawed out very nice. What

do you say?” He put the idol up to his ear, as though it was whispering to him. “Oh, I see. Well certainly, having

been a goddess you’ve every right to have you own say in it. You don’t want to choose from the drawings, eh? You

wants to choose the bits of wood yourself and give ‘em to Percy into his own paws, eh? Well, then, we shan’t be

wanting the drawings any more then since the signs is all made shipshape, so we’ll throw it away? Certainly.” He

crumpled up the parchment and dropped it on the floor behind the coffin which served as his counter.

He then thrust his other little finger through the other crook in her arm and walked the idol up and down the

coffin lid as though it was viewing the various pieces of wood. He then made the figure stoop, and with his fingers

he lifted up one of the two aces of clubs.

“There you are, Percy,” said Mipps solemnly. “Take it from her and hold it in your right hand while she

considers the other one.” This time he made the idol pick up one of the diamond shapes, which Percy accepted in

his left hand, giving the idol an absurd little bob of respect.

“So that’s settled all very amicable,” went on the Sexton. “Put the club in you starboard bucket and the diamond

in the port. And mind you, Percy, if you was to change them without Judy here telling you, she’d bring the most

‘orrible disaster upon you, me and the village, not to mention Squire and the’oly Vicar. So don’t you change ‘em

for no one, see?”

Percy did as he was ordered, and stooped down to place the floats carefully at the bottom of the empty buckets,

for he had poured the water into the cask as he had come into the door.