There was a surfeit of theories, of course, Melrose being Melrose and just the right size of an Unco Guid wee toon for stories to circulate faster than the Ben Hur when the shows arrive at the Greenyards, and rather strangely—and quite out of character, for Maude if not Madame Oyzell—after being intensively questioned by the Police, and a terse statement by Detective Inspector Gordon Brevity which was rather a masterpiece in obfuscation, they gave no interviews to the press or broadcasting media and it was only at a private Welcome Home party at May and Cristo's house, that the two semi- or demi-celebrities finally told us, having sworn all present to secrecy on pain of being tickled to death if a word—even a syllable—was uttered outside these eight walls, and in a way it was rather an anti-climax: "well," said Maude, after Oyzell had told us about their meeting with Blind Harry and the boys, and wee Padraig Macaroon o Minestrone (known to his best friends as Kwasi in honour of his famous ancestor who fought alongside The Lochlann) who having pulled the Battle-Axe from the rock which had held it fast for centuries, grew up to become the rightful King Kwasi I of Scotland who defeated the English at Flodden, reclaimed Cumbria and Northumberland and changed the map of Great Britain and established the course of History for all time, and then the dreadful encounter with MacFarlane, Doubleday and Elginbrod—fancy him being The Red Etin—their defeat and deaths and the return of Maude and Oyzell to the glade and the absolutely astonishing disappearance of all three bodies—plus heads—in puffs of smoke, even repeating the two words she spoke in the silence that followed, "I happened to notice a slender column of basalt nearby, which had obviously been set up yonks before as a rather primitive gnomon, and that the shadow it cast was interrupted, as if a slice had been taken out of the middle of a Frankfurter, or a cucumber, and I remembered that the three monsters had appeared from somewhere in that direction, though further to the left, or west, so I suggested to Oyzell that it may possibly be a gateway back to Melrose, even the same one we ourselves had passed through when of course the shadow of the gnomon would have pointed in a quite different direction, indicating that the gateway was attached to the gnomon rather than the location, and dear Oyzell said, 'let's go for it, I'm starving,' and we went for it—but I have to disabuse you of the idea that the gateway led us straight home—now, as my beloved Daphne and all you dear friends and relations know, I'm not one to awfulize a situation. . . . ." and someone—who, I will not name, for fear of retribution—called out, "no, Maudie, you just make it worse!" and this broke the ice, for both Maude and Oyzell were laughing, Daphne was roaring, there was cheering and hilarity and even Rabbi Burns could be heard hooting and clapping and Rebbetzin Zelda whispering: "careful Shmuel, those buttons I sewed on your shirt won't hold if you bounce about like that!"