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.

'Um... Excuse me for asking sir, but why have you got your hands in the air?'

'Oh, forgive me, but I'm pretty well assured that this is the correct position to adopt when one has a gun at ones back. But permit me if I may to turn around and see who it is I'm dealing with.'

'I suppose so...'

As I turned to face my assailant, a voice boomed out across the empty space from the direction of 'the Train'.

'Stanley! What an earth are you doing man?' Echoed the question.

'Sir, cleaning sir!'

'So, why is the Commander acting as though he is being held at gunpoint?'

'I couldn't say sir. I only put my stuff down to talk to this gentleman and ask what he was doing here at this hour, Chief, sir!' Rattled off the fellow I now knew to be called Stanley.

By now I had gingerly turned around to find that the pressure on my back had been caused by a mop leaning against myself and the click I had heard seemingly belonging to a metal bucket handle. I smiled at the young rating now facing, who smiled back.

'Excellent work sailor, good to see someone's alert. He?'

The young fellow, mop now held in a 'slope arms' manner, saluted.

'I sorry sir, the mop fell over as I put my bucket down and...'

'No, no, no, don't apologise. I'm the one at fault here sneaking about, and quick thinking that using your mop as a gun barrel.'

'Yes you are.' Hissed Meeds in my ear as he came up to me. Stanley went rigid, as if on a passing out parade.

'What brings you down here then, keeping tabs on me perhaps, or you are thinking about stealing them?' He jerked his thumb in the direction of 'the Train' and then added 'Sir!' as an afterthought.

Well, that was one thought that hadn't crossed my mind, most unlike me.

Meeds jerked his head. 'Stanley, you are dismissed. Must be something that still needs mopping out, off you go now.'

Stanley picked up his bucket and headed off towards the previously screened off area.

'Meeds a word please, where are the Marines, the ones at the door the other day? I certainly didn't expect to breeze in down here so easily.'

He pulled a face. 'Oh those lads were only on special duty, part of the detail to do with the work we were carrying out for the Woolwich chaps. No one normally bothers us after normal working hours.'

'Really? I am surprised.'

'You shouldn't be. All the real money goes on ships these days.'

'Well, we are the Navy after all. Ha ha!' I replied trying to make light of the situation and head him off from a bout of melancholy.

Meeds turned so we were face to face 'Pah! Don't get me started.' Obviously a sore point. 'So what is you wanted anyway. Commander?'

I pointed at 'the Train'.

'I knew it, I knew it!' He exploded, visibly jumping up and down on the spot.

'Hold on Chief, it's not what you think. I need to use the telephony system you've installed. I need to talk to Hobbes direct, and if it's all right with you, make use of the accommodation until we are ready to move off.'

The redness of his face had now quietened down and he tapped the side of his nose in a suggestive but knowing way.

'...Trouble with the wife then sir? I know all about that. Why else would I work all the hours God sends me?'

'I really couldn't say Chief.' I replied somewhat taken aback.

'So can I use 'the Train' or not? I’d rather those upstairs weren't aware I was around either. Which gives us a problem doesn’t it?'

'Stanley? Hmm... He'll do as he is ordered to, I'll have a word. If he thinks he's involved in something of an adventure he'll be fine. Now then Commander, we are not quite finished down here so during your stay, which I haven't agreed to yet, don't get in my way or any of my lads way while we are getting things ready.'

This last sentence he said in such a way that each line seemed as though is was capitalised and underlined.

Time was of the essence and I needed Meeds on my side. I picked up my bags.

'Capital! Perfectly acceptable Chief. This is, after all, your domain and I'll abide by your rules, despite the difference in rank. Now first the telephone, and then you can show me what you and your men have done since I last saw you.'

I was given a thoughtful look, and then he nodded seemingly accepting the situation, for now.

'This way then, Commander.'

I hopped aboard the nearest carriage, opened the door and found myself within what looked like a replica of Walloper's Gymnasium. It was truly a work of art; I put my hands out to touch the walls. They were padded not unlike the cells in an asylum but with a pleasant buttoned, cushioned effect.

'Both for soundproofing and safety sir, the floor is similar.'

I jumped gently up and down. The floor was covered in what felt like rubberised matting which absorbed my footfalls.

I smiled, 'This is most excellent workmanship, I must congratulate you and your men.'

Meeds pointed a finger towards the roof. From the ceiling hung what looked like a tailor's dummy surrounded by what looked like numerous cogs. I followed the path of the connecting ropes to pulley which I walked over to and tugged. There was a whirring and ticking noise like the sound of a very large grandfather clock getting ready to strike the hour. The mannequin dropped into the centre of the floor and with more clicking assumed a defensive position. Hobbes had been busy too.

'It works like a marionette sir.' Explained Meeds as he crossed to another set of pulleys to make the mannequin move into attack position. 'You can arm it with any type of sword or staff, sir, and we....'

I took off my coat and placed it on the floor and rolled up my sleeves, this I had to try out first hand. I crossed to a sword rack and found that not only were there a couple of cutlasses and sabres but some lengths of broom handles: 'Sticks'.

Meeds coughed 'I had a very animated conversation with Mr Harrison-Harrison sir, who gave me some advice about length.'

Picking up two I placed one stick in the mannequins' right hand, balled almost like a fist, but tailored with a slot seemingly to take any sort of handle. I stepped back and nodded to Meeds.

'Ready.'

The Chief turned a wheel a few notches, pulled a switch and stood arms folded to watch. The attached strings detached themselves and retracted upwards leaving only two cables attached to the head. The marionette leapt towards me the 'Stick' swinging as it came. I blocked and parried as best I could. I glanced across to Meeds who was smiling clearly enjoying me discomfort. I felt the padding of the wall behind me and used this to my advantage, pushing off I ducked beneath a swing and caught the figure on the back of the neck. It spun round far faster than I had anticipated and I looked up to into its eyeless features, it raised to stake back and then stopped, as did the ticking.

Meeds threw me a towel.

'Bravo sir. You lasted longer than one of my lads. He's in the infirmary at the moment with a concussion I'm told.'

I thought you said it worked like a puppet?'

'The original Mark One did sir, but Mr Hobbes thought a powered version might be better, quicker and so at the moment it can be controlled via the strings or by clockwork which generates an electrical current...'

'Ah! That would account for our friends speed then, but how did it know where I was?'

The Chief shook his head.

'One for Mr Hobbes, that one sir, I’m afraid. I just wound him up and you were in the way.'

'Astounding, Meeds! Truly astounding! This will be ideal and hopefully save some blood. Though I'm sure it can give good account of itself.'

I thought about how long such a toy it would last with Charlotte but quickly put it out of my mind.

'You can show me the rest of your efforts after I've spoken to Hobbes. Shall we ...?'

The Great Knolly Archive

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