Doctor Syn by Russell Thorndike — Read

Then the redcoats got a bad time, for a great fight was put up by the Dymchurch men. Doctor Syn's popularity had gone up at a bound. He had gauged his audience to a nicety, and had he declared himself to be the Prince Regent he couldn't have bettered his position, for around Clegg's name a million romances had been spun, but none so romantic, so daring, so altogether impertinent as this last announcement that he was the preacher Syn. That the greatest pirate hung should have unhanged himself upon the pulpit of a three-decker was indeed a colossal piece of impudence, and calculated to appeal to the innermost hearts of the Dymchurch folk, who at this period of history knew more about wool-running, demon riders, and Calais customs than anything else. Add to this the admiration that they had always borne toward Clegg, only surpassed by their dread of him, and couple this with Doctor Syn's popularity and the Scarecrow's ingenuity, not forgetting the remark in the sermon about King's evidence, and the cleric's escape was assured. For Doctor Syn could give evidence to hang them all, and although they thought that he was sportsman enough to hold his tongue if it came to a crisis, they didn't like to risk it; for Clegg had proved himself true enough to his friends but utterly criminal toward his foes. For all these reasons they put up a fight, and a sharp fight it was.

There was a rumour that Doctor Syn and Sexton Mipps had taken cover in one of the smugglers' retreats at the Ship Inn, and although Mrs. Waggetts innocently protested against it, the order was given to ransack the place from cellar to attic. But it was none so easy to ransack such a rambling old house, defended as it was by desperate ruffians fighting for the secrets of their livelihood, for since Doctor Syn had hidden the wool-running scheme under his black gown money had flowed freely among the Dymchurch men. But the blood of the redcoats was up, for three of their number had been shot dead, and several had been badly wounded, so when they eventually got possession of the inn they showed Mrs. Waggetts' property no mercy. And for Mrs. Waggetts herself -- well, the rage of the redcoats was so uncontrolled when the old house was found stacked with smuggled goods that they cursed her for an old witch and hanged her from the old Ship sign above the door.