Dr. Syn, Alias the Scarecrow Page #3

talk when they start

to lose their men folk.

The Navy needs

sailors.

I've asked for

the press-gangs,

whose job it is

to get them to

come and help

themselves here

in the King's name,

and none too gently.

General Pugh!

Father, no.

You keep out

of this, Kate.

Press-gangs.

Don't dare mention

those blackguards

in this house.

In fact, sir, I've had

all your talk I can

stomach. Good day.

Sir Thomas!

Well, what have

I said wrong?

My brother

was press-ganged

into the Navy, sir.

Clubbed insensible and

dragged away to sea

on his 18th birthday,

four years ago.

KATE:
And no word

from him since.

Now can you understand

my father's feelings?

I can, Miss Banks,

believe me.

The Navy needs men

and must get them how

it can, Mr. Brackenbury.

Do you deny that?

BRACKENBURY:
No, sir.

Then hold your tongue.

Thank you for

your hospitality.

If I upset your father,

I'm sorry for it.

But I'm under orders,

and orders are

written to be obeyed.

Madam, Dr. Syn,

Master Banks,

good day.

Your men of the marshes

have asked for rough

treatment,

and that's what

they're gonna get.

I tell you, I will

not tolerate

your troops

burning cottages

on my land.

Why not?

Because the people

here are my people,

General Pugh.

My family have been

squires of Dymchurch

for 200 years.

I'm acting under orders

that you're under, too,

to maintain the law.

You're Justice

of the Peace.

Peace, yes,

and you've brought

war here.

This is a war,

against time.

Offering a reward

for the capture

of this Scarecrow fellow

who leads this rabble

has been useless.

Yes, and so will be

burning, terrorizing.

My people hate you.

All right.

I'll make a bargain

with you, hmm?

I'll call off my men

if you'll help me

try another way.

Yes, well?

Now then.

The marsh people

share equally

the proceeds of these

smuggling runs,

that's the story,

is it not?

So, you're the squire here.

Who among your tenants

has been behind

in his rents

and then paid up recently,

suddenly, inexplicably,

perhaps? Well?

Yes, I see what

you're getting at.

I'll go through my accounts.

Yes, do that. Give me the

names and get the fellows

round to your house

for questioning. They won't

suspect anything if you

ask them there.

Then you leave them to me.

There's one that comes

to mind, you might make

a start with him.

Mmm-hmm.

Difficult fellow.

Bad farmer, too.

A widower with two sons

and an old mother he

treats none too well.

Ransley's the name.

Right. He'll do for

one. Send for him.

Very well.

He'll be round at

my house tomorrow

morning.

Stop this burning,

do you hear?

Your servant, sir.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Come in.

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