Doctor Syn by Russell Thorndyke (10 best novels of all time .txt) đ
- Author: Russell Thorndyke
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âPleasant ainât exactly the word, I agrees, but you neednât worry yourself on that score. If them damned Kingâs men had put it up now, I donât say as how it mightnât get mobbed and knocked about a bit, âcos them damned Kingâs men ainât wot you might term popular favourites in the village, but as it werenât, donât you worry, for Iâll soon pass the word, young Jerry, as how itâs you wot owns it.â
âThank you,â said Jerry. âThey wouldnât knock it over if you asked âem not to, Iâll be bound.â
âAsked who not to?â demanded the sexton quickly.
âWhy, any of âem,â replied Jerk innocently: âMarshmen, smugglers, jack-oâ-lanterns, demon riders, wot you will; for Iâll lay theyâre all a-scared of Sexton Mipps, ainât they.f^â
But Sexton Mipps was not to be caught by such dangerous flattery, and he replied:
âThere ainât no such things as smugglers hereabouts, as I thinks Iâve already remarked; and as for demon riders, why, uncanny they be, and I holds no truck with âem, thank the Lord. Folks wot has dealinâs with âem has sold their souls for the bargain, and I ainât a-goinâ to do that!â
âBeinâ such a very good and respectable Christian? Oh, no!â said Jerk winking.
âWhy, certainly,â answered the sexton, âand might I ask wot youâre a-winkinâ about?â
âNothinââ I was only thinkinâ!â
âWot about?â
âA dreamâa nightmare I had last night, thatâs all.â
âWot about?â asked the sexton again.
âNothinâ particular,â returned the boy casually.
They had now reached the coffin shop, so, thanking the sexton for his assistance. Jerk bade him goodnight.
âWhere are you bound for now?â Mr. Mipps called after him.
âThe vicarage.â
âW^otfor?â
âTo tell the vicar as how Iâve borrowed a crown off of him, thatâs all!â
âW^otâs that?â cried the sexton, making as if to follow, but the boy waved him back with a fierce gesture.
ââTainât nothinâ to do with you. Youâre paid, ainât you? And it didnât get stole from the poor-box, neither, so donât you start a-worritinâ.â
And thrusting his hands deep into his breeches pocket. Jerk set off for the vicarage to tell Doctor Syn that although he couldnât accept the silver crown for holding his tongue, he had taken the liberty of borrowing it off him.
And in this way was the gibbet set up on Lookout Mountain, and the name changed to Gallows Tree Hill.
IT WAS now dark. Jerk passed through the cluster of quaint little houses that make up the one street of Dymchurch-under-the-wall, and so on to the vicarage. Just at the corner where the Court House stands amid the great trees he heard singing, and recognized the voice and figure of Imogene. She was carrying a basket from the direction of the Ship and was probably bound, like himself, for the vicarage. But as she passed the Court House she paused, and to Jerkâs astonishment felt among the ivy that grew around the old front door. There in a certain branch was a piece of paper, which she took from its hidingplace as if she had expected to find it. The message it contained she read by the light of the lantern that hung above the door, and then, thrusting it into the bosom of her rough dress, she went on toward the vicarage gate. But out from the shadows of the trees stepped a man, whom Jerk perceived to be the schoolmaster. Imogene hesitated when she saw him, for he was standing directly in her path, but when she tried to hurry past, Rash stopped her and spoke.
âSo, Mistress, now that you have got your loverâs written promise from the ivy there, you think you can afford to pass by such a humble one as the schoolmaster, but youâre mistaken, and Iâll trouble you to show me that letter,â
The girlâs hand went involuntarily to her bosom, where the note in question was securely tucked away, and she answered back clear and straight: âNo, Mister Rash, youâve no right.â
âRight is might, Mistress, as youâll find, and I think we shall be able to come to terms now. I want you to come along with me to the vicarage; Doctor Syn is there, and Iâve something to say before you both.â
âLet us go, then,â said Imogene, trying to pass.
âxll in good time,â returned the schoolmaster, stopping her. âThereâs no immediate hurry, I think, for the Doctor wonât come out of that shuttered room of his till morning, so we can afford to keep him waiting, and Iâve something to say to you firstâalone.â
The girl tossed her head impatiently, as if she knew what was coming, but Rash continued:
âA few weeks back I asked you to marry meâI, the esteemed schoolmaster, asked you, the daughter of a criminal; you, whose father was a proved murderer, a dirty pirate hanged publicly at Rye for a filthy tavern crime; you w^ho were born in a Raratonga drinking hell, some half-caste native girlâs brat! Ecod! itâs laughable! I offered to make you respectable and put your banns up in the church, and you refused. Now I know why. You think because that young fool Cobtree is pleased to admire you, that you will catch him in your toils, do you? Youâre a clever one, ainât you?^ I dare swear that sooner or later youâd succeed in getting hold of himâlet the young idiot ruin you, eh? Then make a virtuous song about it to the squire, and a settlement to keep your mouth shut, perhaps.â
âBeast!â cried the girl, and she struck him sideways across the mouth with her clenched hand.
âHello!â thought Jerk, crouching in the bushes, âhereâs another one having a *goâ at him; well, the more the merrier, so long as Iâm the last.â
The schoolmaster recoiled, trying to look as if the stinging blow had not hurt, but the blood was flowing from his lip and from the hand of the girl as well.
âSo thatâs it, is it?â he sniggered, âa real love match, pâhaps? The squireâs consent, the wedding bells, and live happily ever after, eh? Ecod! my lady, I think not. Rash is your man, see? and lucky you are to get him; you whose fatherâs gibbet chains are still swinging in Rye.â
âAnd yours are swinging a bit nearer than that!â said Jerry Jerk to himself.
âYou leave my father out of it,â w*ent on the girl, âfor from all Iâve heard of him he was a better man than you, and he was fond of me, too; so itâs lucky for you heâs not here to hear you speaking bad of his child.â
âYou know nothing about himâ^he was a drunken rascal!â
âDoctor Syn knew him well, and heâs told me things. A rough man he was, certain, and none rougher, reckless, too, and brave, a lawbreaker on land as well as sea, pitiless to his enemies, staunch to his friends, but contemptible he never was; and so, Mister Rash, you can afford to respect him, and I say again that I wish he were here to make you.â
âShouldnât care if he was,â replied the schoolmaster, âfor thereâs always the law to look after a man.â
âSo there is,â chuckled Jerk, âand that youâll find.â
âBah! whatâs the good of hagghng and squabbling?â said Mr. Rash. âYouâre mine, or youâll have to bear the consequences.â
âAnd that is?â asked the girl defiantly.
âThe rope for your friends when I turn Kingâs evidence.â
âYou wouldnât dare, you coward, for youâd be hanging yourself as well.â
âKingâs evidence will cover me all square.â
âSo youâre determined to turn it, are you?â
âI am, unless you change your mind.â
The girl didnât reply to that, so Mr. Rash, thinking that he was making an advance, continued:
âThink, Imogeneâthis Cobtree fellow will be packed off to London in a month or so, and from there on to Oxford; and after a university career of drinking. gambling, and loose living, with precious little learning, heâll settle down to the gentlemanâs life, marry some person of quality, and youâeh? what of you, then?â
âI earn my living now, donât I?â replied the girl. âWell, whatâs to prevent me going on the same?â
âDonât you want to marry?â went on the schoolmaster. âDonât you want a house of your own? Donât you want to be the envy of all the girls in the village?â
âNot at the price of my happiness; and, besides, Iâm not so sure that I do want all those things so desperate. Iâm afraid the wife of Mister Rash would be too genteel a job for me.â
âOh, Iâd soon educate you up to that,â returned the schoolmaster, looking pleased.
âIt âud be a great nuisance to both of us, wouldnât it?â
âI shouldnât mindâit would be a pleasant business making a respectable woman of you, Imogene. You see, youâre not common like these village girls, and thatâs what attracts me; otherwise, it might have been better for me to have fixed my choice on one of them: one that hasnât a bad mark against her, so to speak. But I donât mind what folk say. I suppose theyâll talk a bit and laugh behind my back. Well, let âem, say I. I donât care, because I want you.â
âThen itâs a pity that Iâm not the same way of thinking, isnât it?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âThat I wouldnât marry youâno, not though you got the whole village the rope!â
âYou ungrateful wretch, not after all theyâve done for you?â
âYouâre not the sort of party to talk to others about being ungrateful, are you now?â
âI wasnât born of jail folk.â
âNo; and you can hope your children, if youâre ever cursed with any, will be able to say the same, for I doubt it very greatly, Mister Schoolmaster. And as to your threats, I set no store on them, for from my heart I despise you; I despise you because you would be willing to betray your fellows, but I despise you more because I know you are too great a coward to do it.â
âWe shall see,â said the schoolmaster, âfor whoâs to stop me?â
âParson Syn,â answered the girl. âParsons can bear all manner of secrets and not betray them. Thatâs their business, and Doctor Synâs a good man, so Iâll tell him everything, and in his wisdom heâll find a means of checking your contemptible scheme.â
âThat shows how little you know about things, IVIistress Ignoramous; for itâs that very same good man, Doctor Syn, who is going to read out your banns on this next Sabbath as ever is, and itâs Rash who is going to make him, and if you wonât come along with me to church, well, Iâll threaten other parties in this little place whoâll help me to make you. Folk are none too anxious to be exposed these days with Kingâs men in the village, and so youâll seeâŠâ The schoolmaster stopped talking suddenly.
NOW, although Jerry had employed all his auditory faculties for the overhearing of this conversation, he had unconsciously listened to something else: a slight noise that now and again came from the direction of the vicarage, a small, whirring noise, the kind of noise that he had heard in Mippsâs coffin shop when a tool was working its way through a piece of woodâyes, a whirring noise with an occasional squeak to it.
He hadnât bothered to ask himself what it was; he had just gone on hearing it, thatâs all. But now another noise arose in the night that not only claimed his immediate attention but made him feel cold all over. It had the same effect upon Mr. Rash, for he stopped
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