expression on his face, cried out: "If there's a God in heaven, come down quick and wring this captain's neck!"
"What is it?" cried the vicar.
"Read it out!" yelled the squire, flinging the crumpled paper ball upon the table. "If you love me, read it out and tell me what to do."
Doctor Syn recovered the note, which had bounced from the table to the floor, and when he had unravelled it and smoothed it straight and flat, he read:
"To Sir Antony Cobtree of the Court House, Leveller of Marsh Scotts.
"Sir: I beg to inform you on behalf of the British Admiralty that the person of Mister Rash, Dymchurch schoolmaster, has disappeared. I feel sure that there is somebody in power who is organizing Romney Marsh for his own ends. Somebody is running wool to France, and from the clever organization of these runs, I know that some cultured brain is directing affairs. Your attitude of utter indifference forces me to suspect you. As Leveller of the Marsh Scotts you are in a safe place to control such a scheme, and so I have taken a strong measure in attaching the person of your son, Mister Denis Cobtree. If the body of that unfortunate schoolmaster, dead or alive, is not produced before me within the next twenty-four hours, I shall take steps to force your hand.
"Coast Agent and Commissioner.
"P.S. There is a press gang at work in Rye who will ship your son to sea in twenty-four hours."
