Constable Bedworthy's comfortable relaxation is disturbed by a feeling that something is not quite right. The dance of the morrismen has changed. It no longer looks like any morris dance the constable knows and he's something of a connoisseur. They are dancing closer and closer to him, so much so that he can feel the wind of whirling sticks as they pass close to his head. And surely today's dancers were supposed to be the famous morris side from Nether Winslet - these look nothing like them. In fact, they hardly look human at all, with their blank expressions and staring eyes.

Just then, he hears his name called sharply from the other side of the green. Turning, he sees the Squire, Sir Rufus Pitt-Bulstrode emerging from his gatehouse. The old gentleman is carrying his sporting rifle but there's nothing particularly unusual in that.
"Bedworthy, come hear a moment would you? And just stroll over as you would normally - no hasty movements. There's a couple of people down from London that want to speak to you. And try not to draw the attention of those morris dancers....."
Doug
