The Shadow of Dr Syn - Thorndike Russell (читать книги онлайн бесплатно регистрация .txt) 📗
These last words of the Vicar’s seemed to give Mr. Mipps a deal of comfort. He shut the door and grinned: ‘You hear that, miss? He knows the way. What’s the orders, miss?’
‘You’re to give me the Scarecrow’s clothes in a bundle which I am to drop from my bedroom window. Oh, how lucky ’tis the wing that faces the official rooms,’ she cried. But even as she visualized him in that strong guardroom, doubts arose. If only her father had been here he would never have allowed this outrage. But there was nothing they could do, and all her fears returned. ‘Oh, Mr. Mipps,’ she cried, ‘how can he possibly escape?’
Mipps rose to the occasion. ‘Now don’t you worry, Miss Cicely,’ he said — and then it was strange, but he used the very words Doctor Syn had done: ‘We have faced worse dangers than this Mr. Hyde — the Cap’n and I. I don’t say that at the moment it don’t look tricky — but you take it from me that his brain’s been working since that knock on the door.’ He went upstairs to the old sea-chest and started to collect the necessary clothes, talking as he rolled them into a bundle. ‘He’s as quick as lightning in the riggin’ is the Cap’n. Remind me to tell you what he done in the Tortugas —’ but on second thought decided that the story was not suitable. ‘Well, perhaps I didn’t ought,’ he said. ‘But I can tell you the one about the slave-trader off the Chinee coast. Saved my life he did — and that weren’t the only occasion. He’s done it more times than a cat’s fairy godmother. He’s as nippy with a marline spike as you are with your knitting-pins, Miss Cicely. So if he can’t think of something to diddle that there nosy Hyde and Seek I’ll knock myself up solid.’ He was quite confident himself for indeed he had never known his master to fail, but he had this advantage over Cicely: years of co-operation with Clegg, while this was her first experience of the Scarecrow in danger — though Mipps himself had to admit that there was some justification for her fears; in truth she picked on the one thing which did worry him — the time.
‘How can he do it in time, Mr. Mipps?’ she cried. ‘The Court House may be full of men. ’Tis only a step but he must come here to see the flash and get his horse — he cannot do it in the time.’
Mipps would have liked to have treated her as he had done, when being quite young she had come to him with childish troubles, but now to allay the doubt that he had caught from her he had perforce to be stern.
‘Now look here, miss,’ he said, giving her shoulder a gentle shake. ‘If you’re going to be Mrs. Cap’n, you’ll ’ave to learn that orders is orders. I done it these twenty years and never known him wrong. He may be ready now
— bundle — window —’
He gave her the basket and told her to hurry. She thanked him and said she would, asking forgiveness for having been so foolish — and once again old Mipps was completely disarmed — he reproached himself for his sharpness and proceeded to make up for it:
‘There — I know just how you feel, miss,’ he comforted. ‘Ease your mind and listen for the signals. Remember, three cries of the curlew — three times, that means accordin’ to plan — and let’s hope you don’t ’ear no ’ootin’ of the owl.’
He opened the door and she went out, but half-way across the bridge she turned, came swiftly back and kissed him. Then she was gone, running like a young deer across the Glebe.
The Court House was dark. She thanked Heaven that Lady Caroline and Maria were abed. She crept to her own room, and extinguishing the candles flung the curtains wide.
In the opposite wing one window was lighted up and she could see into the room. She watched, fascinated and horrified, for there at a table with three Dragoons, his face toward her, looking shadowy in the thick tobacco smoke, was Doctor Syn. While yet another shadow passed across the window — darker and more ominous, and she heard the measured tread of a sentry in the yard below.
Chapter 22
The Shadow of the Scarecrow
Mr. Mipps was poring over Doctor Syn’s map of Romney Marsh, marking the distances from Jesson Flats to the hills, when a curious feeling in his jigger-staff told him that he was not alone. In a flash he realized when he had done, or rather what he had not done; for being at once both moved and worried about Miss Cicely, he had forgotten to lock the front door. Someone was behind him and he knew who that someone was. He stiffened, but gave no sign. Instead he leisurely rolled up the map and started to hum his favourite song. Determined that no prying eyes should look at the map he locked it in the cupboard beneath the lectern, and then started off round the room, tidying it casually. He passed the waiting figure twice, then suddenly pretended to notice it for the first time, and he jumped in feigned surprise. ‘Goodness gracious me, it’s our Mr. Hyde. Shrouds, plumes and crape — you did give me a fright, sir. What ’ave you come back for? Dropped something? You shouldn’t have come back to see if I was all right. I’m used to being alone.’
The Revenue Man looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Are you, Mr. Sexton?’ he sneered. ‘I wanted to make quite sure of that.’
‘There now,’ Mipps was almost indignant. ‘And I thought you was making sure that the Vicar was comfortable. You know, sir, you shouldn’t have taken him off like that without his slippers and his nightcap. Poor old gentleman. He’ll catch the ague dead-sure as coffin-nails. Now you stay here and I’ll slip ’em round to him.’
‘You’ll stay where you are,’ the Revenue Man growled, ‘and there’s no cause for anxiety about the Vicar. That “poor old gentleman” is being well cared for by three Dragoons and at the moment is enjoying himself hugely at a game of dice.’
‘’Ow,’ said Mr. Mipps. Then he started violently and looked at Hyde. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, did you say — dice?’
‘Yes, Mr. Sexton — dice.’
‘Oh — dice.’ Mipps answered as though he had not heard it the first time. ‘Dice.’ He then repeated, ‘Yes, Mr. Sexton — Dice,’ so many times under his breath that it turned into a sing-song chant, as he went casually to the desk. The drawer was open and empty and the words changed as he sang in delighted whispers:
‘The Vicar’s taken his dice-box: The Vicar’s taken his dice-box: Yes, Mr. Sexton, Dice.’
This annoyed the Revenue Man and he asked him what the devil he was saying.
‘Nothin’,’ said Mipps. ‘Only singin’ what you said.’
He then told Mr. Hyde that if he had come to stay the night he’d get out one of the Vicar’s nightshirts.
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ snarled Hyde. ‘Stay the night, I may, in this room. I just want to make sure there’ll be no run tonight.’
Mipps thought that he’d have some difficulty in preventing it, since the Vicar had taken his dice-box, which had never failed them yet.
His mind went back to the Chinese coast, where they had acquired this ingenious contraption. Carved out of ivory, the shaker had a false base and ordinary dice could be used, until such a time as its owner wished to get himself out of a tight corner. Then by pushing a spring hidden in the carving and shaking it downwards violently, small glass drops fell out and exploded on the table. Though no particle of glass was left to tell the tale they emitted such an odious nauseating stench, that all who smelt it were overcome with violent retching, and became incapable of offering any resistance. The effects wore off within the hour, by which time the joker, who was careful to protect himself with the antidote, would escape to play the jest elsewhere. For, after all, when indulging in a game of dice a generous amount of strong liquor is usually consumed, so the excuse could always be ‘over-indulgence.’ Mipps was jubilant — the only thing now was for him to elude Mr. Hyde and warn the Vicar of his presence. So, in order to put this plan into action, he said he was going to get on with his work.
