Kemp leaves the Hall refreshed and bounds along
the soft green banks of the A134.
A siren sounds and soon a police car halts
in front of him. Two officers climb out.
"Do you mind if we have a word with you, sir?' one
patrolman asks. 'Not at all,' says Kemp,
all innocence. 'What about?' 'Do you mind
telling us what you're up to?' Kemp explains
himself, the bet, the row with Shakespeare,
Nine Days' Wonder. "I see, sir,' says the cop.
'It's just that there was a report that we
have someone dancing in the road. We thought
we'd be arresting someone who'd escaped
from hospital, but it is clear you are
a reas'nably intelligent person
who knows what he is doing. The report
made no mention of the costume, strangely,
sir, which makes the story fit now that
you've told us. We would like to warn you though
this road can be quite dangerous. You know
the basic safety code? Walk on the right,
wear something visible. May we take
your name and address? You've never been in trouble
with the law before, have you sir?
Any criminal record?' Will Kemp thought
for half a second and said no. The cop
rang through to some police department.
'He's bright, fifty nine years old, from London.'
The second officer informed Kemp that
'when my colleague says you're bright, sir,
he's referring to your costume, not IQ.'
The constables agree to have a picture
then depart, while Kemp skips along
the busy road to Bury St Edmunds.