Play@YSDC

Main Road, Strathmorn, Inverness-shire
Friday 20 March 1931. 10.15am



It took about 30 minutes of tramping through the woods until they found a path that lead back to the village. The church bell tolled quarter past the hours as the strolled back in the direction of the the inn, and the wind blew in the first drops of an impending rain shower.

Where are you heading next?

"It's a wee bit early for lunch," says Bonnie. "Maybe we should talk to the Reverend, though he'll be none too happy to see us - me in particular - especially if we let him know we went into the manor."

" That aounds like a good idea, we can ahow him this journal, then i would like to
Visit the library so i can try and corroborate any facts in this accursed tome. We ahould maybe contact Mr Price ans give hum a wee update on the investigation." DrDouglas chips in. Thinking to himself he must make a quick copy of the main points in the journal and of that damndable phrase, should anything happen to the original.

"I wonder, I'm not saying that's a bad idea. But if we tell the minister there's a collection of remains in that manor, of who knows how many people, he'll want to oversee their Christian burial at least."

"And the constable, and his superiors, will be notified and will investigate to try to find who has been disturbing the dead. Grievously disturbing the dead."

"So it's like lighting the touch paper on a firework, isn't it, eh?"

"Aye, that's true," says Bonnie, "but does anyone have a better idea?"

"Only question probably is what to do before we speak to the minister, eh?"

"I do have one thought. Did all those bones come from the McMorn family crypt? Could any be more recent, and if so, where did they come from?"

"Doc, any thoughts on whether any of the bones were, ah, a bit younger than one hundred years old?"

They found Reverend McCallan at the kirk, tidying up after a prayer meeting. They had passed a number of his parishioners on their way to the kirk who had stared at them as they passed, in the way that village people were wont to do when strangers were in their midst.

The Reverend looked up as they entered, a slight frown crossing his face as he spotted Bonnie. ”How may I help ye today?” he asked, somewhat guardedly.

"First, Reverend, I'd like to apologize for what I said when I was here before," says Bonnie. "I shouldna have made insinuations like that."

Ascot remains silent, confident that Miss Mackenzie will bury herself shortly with some conversational disaster.

”Aye, well, no good will come of such aspersions,” said the Reverend. He nodded to draw a line under that part of the conversation, then said, ”So, how can I help you?”

"We did something else that you're not going to like," says Bonnie, "so ye may as well hear it from me, seeing as ye already dislike me, and I dinna want ye to hold it against my friends. It's entirely my fault. We went to the manor, and we found something we think ye should ken aboot."

”Whit is wrang wit ye’s?” exploded Reverend McCallan, clearly exasperated enough by Bonnie’s confession that his more urbane demeanour slipped away. ”I told ye not to go there lest ye stir up the devil and yet ye’re here again, telling me that ye’ve done just that! Why for pity’s sake, why did ye de that?”