text: [Themes: Comedy, heist, slapstick, male protagonist, magpie]
  
  > look around
  This must unquestionably be the bedroom of Lady Hamcester. Tastefully decorated in peacock blue, the room comes complete with a sagging four-poster bed, French dressing-table, and peacock damask curtains. On the west wall is an elegant fireplace, the mantelpiece littered with various ornaments. To the south, French windows lead out onto the balcony, whilst to the north is the door to the west gallery. Another, smaller door beckons you eastward.
  
  A pomeranian dog lies snoring peacefully on the rug, having accidentally taken one too many knockout drops.
  
  > look at the bed
  A splendid four-poster bed, which, though solidly made, has seen better centuries.
  
  > examine the fireplace
  A marble fireplace surround in the Dauphin French style. Cluttering the mantelpiece are a papier-mâché elephant, a statuette of a shepherdess, a figurine of The Infant Samuel at prayer and a china horse.
  
  > examine the dressing table
  An eighteenth century "poudreuse" or French dressing-table, with exquisite marquetry.
  
  > Go east
  (first opening the little door)
  
  A rather spartan, neglected room which has obviously not been used in years. Hung lopsidedly on one wall is a large, framed painting of a boy in a sailor suit. A door, locked and painted shut, bars the way north to the landing, whilst another leads west into the blue room.
  
  The only indicator of the room's previous existence is a dapple grey rocking horse, somewhat careworn, that casts its indolent gaze upon the painting on the wall opposite.
  
  > look at the horse
  A dapple grey rocking horse on a bow rocker. The name stencilled on its harness is "Rosebud".
  
  > examine the painting
  A painting of a small boy in a sailor suit. He is clutching to his breast a rag doll of a girl in a pinafore dress, as though his very life depended upon it. A small brass plaque is attached to the frame.
  
  > read the plaque
  "Emerick Abercorn Welsummer, heir to the Earl of Hamcester, aged six." It's hard to believe that this endearing, golden-haired moppet grew up to be that old buzzard downstairs.
  
  > ride horse
  The old horse groans under your weight, but despite the woodworm, holds firm. As you rock gently to-and-fro, your gaze falls upon the painting on the opposite wall.
  
  > examine doll
  A handmade doll in a red gingham pinafore dress. It looks as though young Hamcester was rather attached to it, back in the day. You wonder what became of it.
  
  > stand
  You get off the rocking horse.
  
  A rather spartan, neglected room which has obviously not been used in years. Hung lopsidedly on one wall is a large, framed painting of a boy in a sailor suit. A door, locked and painted shut, bars the way north to the landing, whilst another leads west into the blue room.
  
  The only indicator of the room's previous existence is a dapple grey rocking horse, somewhat careworn, that casts its indolent gaze upon the painting on the wall opposite.
  
  > Go west
  This must unquestionably be the bedroom of Lady Hamcester. Tastefully decorated in peacock blue, the room comes complete with a sagging four-poster bed, French dressing-table, and peacock damask curtains. On the west wall is an elegant fireplace, the mantelpiece littered with various ornaments. To the south, French windows lead out onto the balcony, whilst to the north is the door to the west gallery. Another, smaller door beckons you eastward.
  
  A pomeranian dog lies snoring peacefully on the rug, having accidentally taken one too many knockout drops.
  
  > examine the elephant
  The papier-mâché elephant is a slightly boss-eyed but otherwise
  genial
  example of his species. Utterly worthless, of course.
  
  > go south
  You step out into the bright sunshine.
  
  The balcony offers splendid views of the park and grounds. From here you can see into the kitchen garden, to the left of which is a wide expanse of lawn. French windows lead into the blue room. A ladder leans against the balustrade.
  
  A sturdy-looking cast iron drainpipe runs down the wall beside the balcony.
  
  As you step out onto the balcony, you are mildly perturbed to see that the ladder is no longer where you left it. Hearing voices on the terrace below, you duck down behind the balustrade in order to watch unobserved. Through a gap in the ivy, you are able to see the under-gardener, holding the ladder, in concert with Lord Hamcester, who appears to have taken a break from ordering Hives around in order to enjoy a cigar.
  
  "What was it doing there?" says Hamcester.
  
  "I don't know, sir," says the under-gardener, shuffling his feet nervously. "I saw the gentleman carrying it over from the orchard, sir, and there it was."
  
  "The gentleman? Are you referring to, er, ah, our guest?"
  
  "The gentleman with the ginger moustache, sir."
  
  "I see. So you're telling me that you observed the gentleman with the ginger moustache carry the ladder from the orchard towards the house, and lean it up against the balcony?"
  
  "Well, yes, sir. I mean, no sir."
  
  "Yes, no? Which is it, man? You're blithering."
  
  "I mean to say I saw him, the gentleman with the moustache, sir, carry the ladder from the orchard, but I didn't see him lean it up against the balcony, sir, on account of being unable to see the balcony from where I was situated, sir."
  
  "I see. Odd, dashed odd. Very good, Boyle. Don't let that ladder out of your sight. There's some funny business going on at Bunkham Hall today, and I shouldn't be at all surprised if Sir Humphrey Leghorn were at the bottom of it."
  
  Tucking the ladder under his arm, the under-gardener sets off around the side of the kitchen-garden. Hamcester, meanwhile, gazes across from the west balcony to the top of the kitchen-garden wall, as though trying to judge whether it would be possible to jump from one to the other. Shaking his head, he retires into the house.
  
  > climb the drainpipe
  The drainpipe looked sturdy enough from the balcony, but no sooner have you entrusted it with your full weight than it parts company with the wall, and you find yourself tumbling headlong into a rhododendron bush that fortunately was growing below.
  
  Gravel Sweep West (in the rhododendron bush)
  This gravel sweep is a path that extends from the terrace steps to the east and runs along the south front. To the south is the ivy-grown wall of the kitchen garden. A large rhododendron bush grows against the wall here beneath a first floor balcony.
  
  > go east
  You would have to get out of the rhododendron bush first.
  
  > stand
  You extract yourself from the rhododendron bush as elegantly as can be managed, brushing a few stray leaves from your clothing.
  
  > look at the bush
  A fine example of a flowering shrub in the family Ericaceae.
  
  > go east
  A charming terrace, surrounded by an Italian balustrade, and replete with statues of dancing fauns, ornamental urns and what-not. In the centre is a set of cast-iron garden furniture, doing what cast-iron garden furniture does best.
  
  Stone steps lead southwards onto the lawn, east and west to the gravel sweep, whilst to the north French windows invite you to enter the saloon.
  
  Lady Hamcester is standing to one side of the French windows, watching, in horrified fascination, the scene now unfolding in the saloon.
  
  From the direction of the saloon you hear Lord Hamcester barking orders.
  
  "I never did like that tea set," says Her Ladyship.
  
  > ask the Lady about the bull
  "You should have seen him leap over the ha-ha, Monsieur," says Lady Hamcester. "It was magnificent. I do hope he doesn't sit on poor Hives."
  
  From the direction of the saloon you hear a sudden crash.
  
  "Careful, Hives!" says Lady Hamcester.
  
  > put the drop in the pipe
  (first taking the knockout drop)
  You put the knockout drop into the Amazonian blowpipe.
  
  From the direction of the saloon you hear Lord Hamcester barking orders.
  
  "Oh dear, that vase was a present from Emerick's sister Agatha," laughs Lady Hamcester.
  
  > go north
  "Be careful, Monsieur Perroquet," says Lady Hamcester.
  
  Bunkham Hall's grandest room has become a scene of devastation to rival the ruins of Pompeii. Barely a stick of furniture remains intact, and Hamcester's hideous collection of porcelain lies in fragments on the floor. The Axminster carpet is decorated with a delicate pattern of daisies and fragrant, steaming cowpats. To the north and east are the great hall and the dining room respectively. The collection room lies to the west, whilst to the south, the remains of some French windows open onto the terrace.
  
  The scene unfolding in the saloon reminds you rather vividly of a country dance you once attended. Sparkenhoe, fully three thousand pounds of prime muscle, and Hives, the emaciated butler, make a rather odd couple as they do-si-do around the room. The latter appears to be attempting to eject the former from the premises, whilst the former, barely aware of the latter's presence, rampages about, upsetting the furniture and reducing the crockery to a mass of fragments. Lord Hamcester, meanwhile, having finally found something more urgent to do than write his speech, stands in the safety of the doorway, surveying the damage and barking orders at his struggling manservant.
  
  "Try lifting him. No, not like that — get right underneath!" bellows Hamcester. There is a crash as Sparkenhoe collides with a Welsh dresser.
  
  > go north
  It's too dangerous to cross the saloon with Hamcester's prize bull rampaging about in it.
  
  "Put your back into it, man!" bellows Hamcester. There is a tinkle of shattering glass as the beast backs into the French windows.
  
  > shoot the bull with the pipe
  Not relishing the prospect of being gored to death, sat upon or trampled to a jelly, you decide to leave the animal well alone.
  
  "Try to keep him away from the Dresden — oh, for goodness sakes!" bellows Hamcester. There is a sickening crunch as Sparkenhoe steps on a plate that had somehow survived the fall from the dresser.
  
  > check your inventory
  You have about your person a false beard, a small brown bottle, inside which is a knockout drop, a priceless jewelled scarab (fake), an Amazonian blowpipe (loaded with a knockout drop), two bananas, a book entitled Psychology To-day, a telegram and a gramophone
  record entitled La Gazza Ladra.
  
  Stashed safely in the secret pocket of your form-fitting tweed suit, are the famous Jaroda Pearls, a Georgian ruby ring and a black and white feather.
  
  You are also wearing a ginger moustache, rendering you indistinguishable from Doctor Cornelius Drake, the noted alienist.
  
  "No, not that way, the other way!" bellows Hamcester. There is a crash as Sparkenhoe collides with a Welsh dresser.
  
  > go to the east
  It's too dangerous to cross the saloon with Hamcester's prize bull rampaging about in it.
  
  "Try to keep him away from the Dresden — oh, for goodness sakes!" bellows Hamcester. There is a tinkle of shattering glass as the beast backs into the French windows.
  
  > Go south
  You beat a hasty retreat.
  
  A charming terrace, surrounded by an Italian balustrade, and replete with statues of dancing fauns, ornamental urns and what-not. In the centre is a set of cast-iron garden furniture, doing what cast-iron garden furniture does best.
  
  Stone steps lead southwards onto the lawn, east and west to the gravel sweep, whilst to the north French windows invite you to enter the saloon.
  
  Lady Hamcester is standing to one side of the French windows, watching, in horrified fascination, the scene now unfolding in the saloon.
  
  From the direction of the saloon you hear a sudden crash.
  
  "Oh, dear!" laughs the Countess.
  
  > Go south
  An expansive lawn, dotted with ancient cedar trees. It is connected, by way of a gravel path, to a shrubbery in the east, and by a stone archway to a walled vegetable garden in the west. To the south, on the other side of the ha-ha, lies the park.
  
  Over by the stone archway, a small, wiry man in a cloth cap snips lackadaisically at a box hedge with a pair of garden shears. Occasionally, he peers through the archway into the vegetable garden, as though making certain there is nothing amiss.
  
  You can also see a ladder here.
  
  > Go east
  A very pretty shrubbery, with a gravel path that winds between banks of hardy shrubs. Hollyhocks and azaleas add a splash of colour to the proceedings. The path weaves north to the gravel sweep surrounding the house, and west to the lawn.
  
  Amos Bunyon, the impossibly hirsute head gardener is going about his business.
  
  Amos tries to take a swig from his hip flask, but finding it empty, replaces it in his pocket grumblingly.
  
  > Go west
  An expansive lawn, dotted with ancient cedar trees. It is connected, by way of a gravel path, to a shrubbery in the east, and by a stone archway to a walled vegetable garden in the west. To the south, on the other side of the ha-ha, lies the park.
  
  Over by the stone archway, a small, wiry man in a cloth cap snips lackadaisically at a box hedge with a pair of garden shears. Occasionally, he casts you a suspicious glance.
  
  You can also see a ladder here.
  
  > go south
  "Well, tinkety-tonk, old bean," you say, and gesturing towards the balding box hedge, add "keep up the good work."
  
  "Right you are, sir," sighs the under-gardener.
  
  You hop nimbly over the ha-ha.
  
  The park is used by for the grazing of Lord Hamcester's prize herd of longhorn cattle, the finest in all England. To the north, on the other side of the ha-ha, lie the formal gardens, whilst to the east, at the end of a yew alley, is a small folly in the shape of a Greek temple. West of here, surrounded by a low fence, is a little orchard.