There’ll be money enough to pay for their laundry, I promise you.”
The bishops had not missed a word. They went home and repeated it to their wives. Who was this parson who
asked favours for another fellow from the Prince? Who was the fellow for whom he begged? Was it his curate?
And why the letter to the Admiralty? All very puzzling, especially as the Prince had not appeared to them that day
in at all a communicative mood. He had certainly taken no interest in the laundering of their lawn sleeves.
From Carlton House Doctor Syn strolled along to Whitehall and entered the Admiralty. He had to wait a good
deal longer for Admiral Troubridge than he had had to do for the Prince. But he had far more confidence in being
able to get what he wanted from the Admiral than he had ever entertained with reference to the Prince, although as it
had turned out, nothing could have been easier. He had cleverly handled the very difficult First Gentlemen of
Europe and had really made him behave like a gentleman, which not everyone was able to do.
What was more to the point he had not come away as so many had to do with an empty promise. There was no
reason for him to quote that passage of scripture which says, ‘Put not your trust in princes, nor in any child of man,
for there is no help in them. He had come out of the Presence Chamber at Carlton House with a letter, the contents
of which he had himself directed the Prince to write. It was couched in terms that could not be ignored by the
Admiral.
Moreover, the old sea-dog was well acquainted with the Prince, and was very proud of the fact, and the tone of
the Prince’s correspondence being friendly and confidential, pleased him so vastly that he would have been willing
to undertake a harder commission for His Royal Highness than was requested.
Doctor Syn owned that he knew the contents of the letter, saying that the Prince had insisted upon reading it to
him, while he kept so many notabilities waiting for audiences.
He then tactfully recounted all the good things which the Prince had said of the Admiral, such extravagant praise
that had never entered the Prince’s head, much less issued from his mouth. Doctor Syn was perfectly aware that
these exaggerations could never be repeated by the Admiral.
But though delighted to hear how very high he was in favour with the Prince himself, he was mystified at the
Royal attitude towards such an officer as Captain Blain.
“It is quite conceivable that His Royal Highness might have recommended the fellow for promotion,” he
remarked to Doctor Syn, “but all these minute orders as to how it must be carried out seem very extraordinary under
the circumstances. Besides although you say you have taken quite a liking for Blain, I assure you he is by no means
looked upon as a likeable fellow in the Service.”
“But surely, my dear Admiral,” suggested Doctor Syn, “His Royal Highness has ever had the reputation for
taking the queerest fancies for people.”
“Well, he’s carrying it very far in this case,” went on the admiral. “He is treating Blain much as we treat a
favourite child at Christmas. You know, ‘Must make it a happy day for the nipper’ sort of thing. I wonder he had
not ordered the Admiralty to send him a cake with fifty candles round it. Of course, I must conform to the Prince’s
wishes as far as I am able, but the Prince should know more about the Service than to write a ridiculous sentence
like make him an Admiral or something and oblige. I can’t go making people Admirals at a moment’s notice.
We’ve too many as it is.”
“He does say, ‘An Admiral or something’,” said the Doctor. “Perhaps there’s something that he could be made.”
“I know the very thing,” the Admiral suddenly exclaimed. “I could get him the Crocodile. She had only a
temporary officer in command, and the Guard Ship to the Tower of London is a step higher than a Guard Ship at
Dover. I think that solves it. We’ll send Blain on his fiftieth birthday, back to his nursery. His father had it and
became an Admiral. It’s a stepping-stone, and if I pop him on board the Prince will at least see that I am exerting
myself for his protégé.”
“He is certainly wasting his time, and that of his men, on Romney Marsh,” said the doctor. “If I may say it, with
all deference, you yourself were unable to string up our atrocious Scarecrow. No doubt you would have got him had
you stayed at Dover, but Blain is hardly the man to succeed where even you failed, though he has been about the
business for a considerable time, and unlike you, has been billeted on the spot.”
“Aye, and as I have pointed out to him,” put in the Admiral, “the landings have gone on all the time, and on a
vaster scale that in my time. No one will catch the Scarecrow, Doctor Syn. I am sorry to say so, since I know how
vigorously you have worked to get your territory clear of his tyranny. But I would rather be ordered to go down to
hell and arrest the Devil himself than he expected again to catch that rascal. He’s uncanny, and that’s about the size
of it.”
“I begin to think so myself, sir,” replied Doctor Syn.
With a great deal of importance the Admiral once more read aloud the Prince’s letter, and then began to write out
a memorandum on the details to be carried out.
“If I remember right Blain rides every tolerable, doesn’t he?” he asked, looking up from his writing.
“An excellent horseman,” replied the doctor. “It is an accomplishment that I envy. My little pony is about all I
can manage.”
“Well, I am not much of a hand at it myself,” returned the Admiral. “Though I tell my brother, the General, that I
cut a finer figure than he does in the saddle, for all his dragooning, especially when the animal is come to anchor.
Every man to his calling. The horse to the soldier; the dock to the sailor, eh?”
“And the pulpit to the parson,” laughed Doctor Syn.
The Admiral returned to his notes. “So Blain rides. That means another horse. One for the Admiralty courier,
and the other for him. He has a horse at Dymchurch, I see, from his reports, borrowed from the garrison on Dover,
but that one must be returned. Better not trust it to the Bos’n neither. They must detail some officer who can ride to
fetch it, from Dover. He can escort the men back at the same time. I’ll not have them wasting any more time
helping the Revenue men not to catch the Scarecrow. If they want to do it, they should do it properly and
commission the Channel Fleet to sink his luggers.”
“So my Tythe Barn will be able to return to its agricultural uses undisturbed at last, eh?” laughed the Doctor.
“Aye, Doctor, and you’ll get no more Admiralty rentage for you Sick and Needy Fund from that source. Now
wait a minute,” went on the Admiral. “I must not forget the common dangers of the road. Not that I think your
Gentleman James would hold up and Admiralty courier without getting as good as he gave, but”
“Oh, our Jimmie Bone has gone into hiding, they say, sir,” explained the Parson. “I think you can rule him out of
this.”
“But accidents will happen even to couriers,” went on the Admiral. “So to prevent them I’ll dispatch my best
courier the day before, that is on the twenty-second, to Dover. He can carry dispatches to my successor there and
save a journey. He can accompany the officer who is to fetch the horse and men, so that all can be clear at
Dymchurch when Blain leaves it on the twenty-third. I think, doctor, that settles everything which will ensure
Captain Blain having a pleasant birthday and a surprise present when he arrives hot and dusty for orders here. I