Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

One could have heard a pin drop, should anyone in the room have been so careless as to have such things upon their person to cast away willy-nilly.

'Allow me to posit the following,' I said as I stood up and started pacing.

'Uncle Monty is trying to tell us something through this ditty. We must consider its content at the literal and metaphorical level. Therefore, I would like us all to suspend disbelief and to think about what Monty might have wanted us to know. Does anyone have any suggestions?'

'Shall we have a beer, it’s well past luncheon after all?' said Bertie rather chirpily, but also rather unhelpfully.

'Thank you, Bertie. Does anyone have any sensible suggestions?'

Hobbes spoke first.

'The loch,' he said quietly. 'This poem is our link between the strange activities on the loch, the babbling patient and whatever Monty was involved with.'

Bertie responded. It was brief but spoke volumes.

'Hmmpph!' He said. 'I don't know what all the fuss is about. It's a just a nursery rhyme. And it's not as good as "Splidge Spladge Splodge" to boot.'

'And what of its effect on Merrick?' I asked and was suddenly brought up short from my pacing.

'Dearest I didn't want to interrupt your flow but you seem to have entangled yourself and us it would seem with the um... Wires.'

I looked to see that this was indeed so and I seemed to have woven an intricate “cats cradle” that seemed to prevent Elspeth or Merrick from moving their arms!

'Oh ... Um..'

'You keep still Knolly, whilst I wiggle out and then help you retrace your steps.'

Merrick spoke, clearly still somewhat ill at ease from his queer turn and being tied to a chair.

'That rhyme,' he said 'It hypnotised me, left me in a suggestible state until Elspeth revived me.'

'But it only affected you, John,' said Bertie.

'And I believe that it may have been responsible for putting the poor blighter in the hospital into a semi-catatonic state,' said Merrick. 'Given time, you all may have succumbed to its charm as I did.'

'Good work,' I said. 'Does anybody have any other comments now?'

'What about the "Sweden" bit?' asked Elspeth from behind me.

'Who is the King of Sweden?' queried Elspeth as she guided me back around the room, collecting the wayward wiring as she went in the same way women do with wool.

Hobbes called out: 'Oscar the Second!'

'Ah! But the ditty was in written in 1845,' I reminded him. 'Who was King back then?'

Hobbes called out: 'Oscar the First!' (Sounding rather bullish at being able to boast his knowledge of trivia.)

'The Frenchman?' asked Bertie. 'Good Lord! Was Monty fighting the Frenchies? In England?'

Elspeth and Merrick looked understandably surprised.

'We cannot rule out that possibility,' I said. 'The drawings and sketches that appear in the book certainly seem to indicate some forms of machinery and their placements within the English countryside.'

'A French invasion? Surely people would have noticed?' asked Merrick.

'I admit that it is unlikely, but let us not overly constrain our thoughts, imaginings and fascinations with logic and reasoning.'

'Come now, Knolly!' said Bertie. 'Just how fantastic could any of this be? Like one of H.G's yarns, perhaps?'

Hobbes coughed embarrassingly.

I paused and told him that it may be more fantastic than he or HG imagined. I then told him that it may be more fantastic than he or HG could possibly imagine. I made a mental note to myself that Bertie at some point needed to be brought up to speed with my thoughts on the matter.

'Very profound,' mumbled Hobbes. 'I do wish that we could see the whole document,' he sighed.

'Maybe it's a simple clue?' said Elspeth now comfortably seated with a ball of wires on her lap. 'Could there be something secreted at Hoot Hall under a pear tree? Or a nutmeg tree? Or a nut tree? Or a big tree with an “X” on it?'

'That is indeed a possibility,' I said. 'I shall make a note to ask Sol Tan and Sag to explore on our behalf.'

Bertie asked if there was anything else in the proximity of the writing poem that might cause us to confirm that the poem was indeed a message.

'Well, there is a note - a dedication of sorts - to Aunt Lettice just before the poem. Elspeth, would you be so kind as to read it aloud?'

'It says ...

My dearest Lettice,


I find myself where I do not wish to be, but I take comfort in the knowledge that I may soon revel in your company.


When we are together, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.


When we are apart, you will find me in this verse.


Forever yours,


Monty

.... and then he has drawn a rose.' Elspeth sniffed back a tear.

'Do we know what Aunt Lettice thought of this?' asked Hobbes.

I had to admit that I did not know, and I suggested that it would not be wise for anyone other than myself to approach her regarding this delicate issue.

Whilst I was speaking, I noticed two things. The first thing was the presence of some clicking and a high-pitched whine through the earpiece of the telephone. Both were very faint, but nonetheless they were present and irritating. The second thing that I noticed was that Merrick had put down his earpiece, had taken up a pen and paper, and was writing in bold strokes.

Merrick quietly cleared his throat to gain my attention. He held up the piece of paper; it read:

I nodded. Elspeth gasped. It was necessary to quickly end this conversation, but in a manner that would suggest to our uninvited guest or guests that we were unaware of their presence, and - just as importantly - to deflect them from any truths that we may have stumbled upon. I would have to signal to Bertie that there was potential trouble afoot and I would use the spoken cipher that we had both developed over the years since our school days.

'I am beginning to wonder if Bertie is correct in his assessment .... ' I said with a wink to Elspeth and Merrick.

I decided to no longer debate the contents of the journal with my colleagues; instead, I took to relaying diversions based on meaningless observations about the physical aspects of the book (taking care to mention Elspeth's concern about wasted pages).

'Oh? How so?' asked Bertie.

'Mayhap it is just a poem accompanied by a love letter from a homesick soldier?'

'And what of the notes and diagrams you have described?' asked Hobbes.

'Just that. Very likely they are field notes related to run-of-the-mill military exercises in the English countryside.'

'Well! I told you so!' said Bertie, sounding rather proud of himself but as yet quite unaware of my flim-flammery.

'Oh! Bertie? Lest I forget to ask .... Did you speak with Mr Addley or Mr Stanner?' This was a signal stating that a code was about to follow.

'It was indeed the latter, Knolly.' This was Bertie's "ready" signal.

'And is he in fine fettle?' This was my alert.

'Chipper!' This was Bertie's acknowledgement that a generic "alert" code had just been issued.

'That is a relief - thank you.' This was the end of the signal; I could now end the conversation.

'Bertie, Hobbes .... our telephony equipment is rather on the warm side. Merrick is insisting that it be shut down.'

'Right-Ho!' said Hobbes. 'No doubt we will speak again soon.'

Goodbyes were said and Merrick switched off the telephone.

Elspeth quietly asked:

'Who is our listener?'

I shook my head and was about to answer when the door opened and there stood a rather dishevelled Charlotte.

'Hello m’dear, are you feeling better?' I enquired.

She smiled and nodded, then spied the ball of wires on Elspeth’s lap and made a lightening grab for it. Elspeth alas was not quick enough to stop her and so the wires and all the telephones suddenly found themselves on the floor surrounding the young girl.

'Charlotte!' Scolded Elspeth, as like a kitten Charlie began to attack the wires and “candlesticks” alike.

Alas I could not help but laugh at her antics along with John and Elspeth for all her daggers look in my direction soon joined in.

'I think now would be a good time to have something to eat.' said Elspeth rather pointedly.

'Come along Knolly, whilst John helps untangle his ward.'

I followed her out into the kitchen where she pounced upon me wild-eyed.

'I certainly hope that when I scold our own child you won't explode into guffaws of laughter, it doesn’t do to have ones authority undermined you know!'

I was about to reply along the lines of “don’t be silly, that’s unlikely” or something of a similar vein and then she burst into tears and clasped me to her.

'Ah' ... I thought to myself, 'here’s another little complexity I hadn’t seen coming.'

The Great Knolly Archive

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