Avast!" came a shout behind him. Instinctively, Alan ducked and dove behind the nearest trunk.

"Scallawag! Thieves and lubbers! Ahoy, ahoy!"

Alan watched in amazement as the very image of an ancient pirate came charging, sword leading, through the spot where he'd been standing. "Where be ye, scurvy cur? Out with ye! I can smell yeh as plain as me left armpit!" He leaped from side to side, prancing across the glen, but in an intimidating sort of way. His boots were scuffed and the money pouch swinging from his waist was fat. He had no adornment on his velvet jacket but tassels on the shoulders - a minimized sort of epaulet.

Alan found this latest turn of absurdity so startling that he coughed. "Erm, you wouldn't be looking for me, would you?"