“But he got off,” said the squire. “How?”
“That’s just it,” said the captain, “how? If you can find that out you’re smarter than Job Mallet, who seems the only man who can get things out of him.”
“By Gad! I’m quite eager to look at the poor devil!” cried the squire.
“So am I,” agreed the physician.
“And I’d give a lot to know how he got off that reef,” said Doctor Syn.
But at that instant the butler opened the door, and Job Mallet shuffled into the room, looking troubled. “Where’s the mulatto?” said the captain sharply, for the bo’sun was alone.
“I don’t know, sir,” answered the bo’sun sheepishly; “he’s gone!”
“Gone? Where to?” said the captain.
“Don’t know, sir,” answered the bo’sun. “I see him curled up in the barn along of the others just afore I stepped outside to stand watch, and when I went to wake him to bring him along of me, why, blest if he hadn’t disappeared.”
“Did you look for him?” said the captain.
“Well, sir, I was a-lookin’ for him as far down as to the end of the field where one of them ditches run,” said the bo’sun, “when I see something wot fair beat anything I ever seed afore: it was a regiment of horse, some twenty of ’em maybe, but if them riders weren’t devils, well, I ain’t a seaman.”
“What were they like?” screamed Sennacherib.
“Wild-looking fellows on horses wot seemed to snort out fire, and the faces of the riders and horses were all moonlight sort of colour, but before I’d shouted, ‘Belay there!’ they’d all disappeared in the mist.”
“How far away were these riders?” said the captain.
“Why, right on top of me, as it seemed,” stammered the bo’sun.
“Job Mallet,” said the captain, shaking his large finger at him, “I’ll tell you what it is, my man: you’ve been drinking rum.”
“Well, sir,” admitted the seaman, “it did seem extra good tonight, and perhaps I did take more than I could manage; though come to think of it, sir, I’ve often drunk more than I’ve swallowed tonight and not seen a thing, sir.”
“You get back to the barn and go to sleep,” said the captain, “and lock the door from the inside; there’s no need to stand watches tonight, and it won’t do that foreign rascal any harm to find himself on the wrong side of the door for once.” Job Mallet saluted and left the room.
“You see what it comes to, Sennacherib,” laughed the squire: “drink too much and you’re bound to see devils!”
“I don’t believe that fellow has drunk too much,” said the physician, getting up. “But I’m walking home, and it’s late; time I made a start.”
“Mind the devils!” laughed the vicar as he shook hands.
“They’ll mind me, sir,” said Sennacherib as he grasped his thick stick. And so the supper party broke up: the squire lighting the captain to his room; Doctor Syn returning to the vicarage; and Sennacherib Pepper setting out for his lonely walk across the devil-ridden Marsh.
The window of the captain’s room looked out upon the courtyard; he could see nothing of the sea, nothing of the Marsh. Now, as these were the two things he intended to see—aye, and on that very night—he waited patiently till the house was still; for he considered that there was more truth in Sennacherib Pepper’s stories than the squire allowed. Indeed, it was more than likely that the squire disallowed them for reasons of his own. This he determined to find out. So half an hour after the squire had bade him goodnight he softly crossed the room to open the door.
But the door was locked on the outside!
VIII
Dogging the Schoolmaster
Now Jerry lived with his grandparents, and they were always early to bed. Indeed, by ten o’clock they were both snoring loudly, while Jerry would be tucked up in the little attic dreaming of the gallows and hanging Mr. Rash. Jerry was troubled a good deal by dreams; but upon this particular night they were more than usually violent; whether owing to the great excitement caused by the coming of the King’s men, or due to the extra doses of rum that the youngster had indulged in, who can say. He dreamt that he was out on the Marsh chasing the schoolmaster: that was all very well, quite a pleasant dream to young Jerk and not at all a nightmare, but unfortunately there were things chasing Jerry as well, and the nearer he seemed to get to the flying schoolmaster the nearer got the things behind him. There was no doubt at all in the dreamer’s mind as to what they were, for they were the Marsh devils that he had heard about from infancy, the very demon riders that old Sennacherib Pepper was credited with having seen. He glanced over his shoulder and saw them pounding after him, grim riders on most ghastly steeds. The noise of the hoofs got nearer and nearer, and run as he would, he felt that he would never reach the schoolmaster before he himself was caught by the demons. Then in the dream the schoolmaster turned round, and Jerk with a scream saw that what he had been chasing was no longer the schoolmaster but the devil himself. So there he was between the demon riders and the very old gentleman that Doctor Syn preached about on Sundays. Now, although Jerry was no coward, he was not quite proof against such a shock as this, so he just uttered the most appalling scream and fell into a ditch that had suddenly
