Had they in run been captured, and he forgotten in the darkness?
He made up his mind that he would tell Polly everything the next day, and he realized on reaching his lodgings
that this course would be necessary, since not only the blow on his skull, but the bruises on his face, where he fell,
would demand an explanation. It was not till after he had washed his wounds that he remembered the piece of paper
which he had put into his pocket. He smoothed it out and read by the light of his candle, Death to all spies by orders
of… And instead of a signature was the crude sketch of a scarecrow.
He had known others who had been warned in a similar fashion, and they had disappeared from the Marsh, and
were never heard of again. The very next day he told Polly everything, under a pledge of silence. She took a very
serious view of it, and made him promise to hold no further communication with Doctor Syn or the Captain, in case
he was further suspected by the mysterious Nightriders, who had spies everywhere.
Strong as he was, the nasty crack on his head made him very ill. He became feverish, and Polly gave up her
work at the ‘Red Lion’, so that she could nurse him at her parents’ house in Dymchurch, promising to marry him as
soon as he recovered. Her family liked him, and were more that satisfied that he would make Polly a good husband,
now that he was a master cooper. They all agreed to keep his presence in Dymchurch a secret, and to that end one
of Polly’s brothers drove them from Hythe in their fish-cart after dark. So, in a few days George Lee began to think
that his misfortune had been a blessing in disguise, and he made full use of his happiness in having his future bride
for his name.
damnably dangerous practice so near the bedclothes, I should like to stay up and read a little further, if you have no
objection?”
Doctor Syn bent down and glanced at the back of the volume which the Captain was reading. He then looked up
at the space in the bookshelf, as though to verify the name of the volume. “Lawrence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, eh
Captain?” he queried. “Well now, as a tutor I have ever had a quick eye for the student. I could always tell when
some young student at the University was really reading or out making a pretence at it, and I rather think that I have
caught you out this night. I can tell you that Sterne would be very disappointed at the desultory attention you have
bestowed upon his pages. I rather think that it is just that you have no desire to go to bed. Perhaps you wish for
another drink, eh?”
The Captain laughed. “You mean that half the time I have been reading I have been chatting about matters that
have nothing to do with the opinions of Shandy, eh? Well, in a sense you may be right. If so it is small compliment
to the author, eh? On the other hand, I should like to point out that our author has gripped me in spite of my
inclinations and I should certainly like to finish this passage of Corporal Trim’s account of the sick lieutenant.”
The Vicar nodded with appreciation. “Well, I confess to being a little sleepy myself, but I will further encourage
Morpheus to give me a sound night by fetching another bottle of brandy from the cellar. Any excuse is better than
none, eh? If you will excuse me but for a minute we will both be at an advantage.”
The suggestion pleased the Captain, since it meant detaining the Doctor a little longer before retiring. At least so
thought the vicar, as with candle in hand he crossed the hall and entered the servants’ quarters. Here he found
Mipps anxiously awaiting him, sitting in the dark close to the rum cask, and with a handy pannikin clasped tightly in
his fingers.
Doctor Syn smiled, and laid a warning finger to his lips. He then whispere d: “The Captain is for sitting up,