"Well?" Sir Harold asked mockingly, "what will happen to the Green Man?"
"That," the Angel of Death turned to the still-shocked Lady Sylvia, "depends on the Green Man's defence."
Lady Sylvia stumbled over her words, as she recounted the story of how Sir Harold Rait, industrialist, had ended up shot dead in his own study, while his files were burned. As she spoke, the young aristocrat was only too aware of how lame the story sounded, as though she was making excuses for the Green Man. She was not surprised when Sir Harold laughed.
"Is that the best you can do?" he demanded mockingly, "I expected more from the Green Man's assistant."
Lady Sylvia looked towards the ground, feeling wretched. She had failed the Green Man, and that meant that he would shortly face punishment, and that for having fallen into a trap.
"You expected exactly what you got, Sir Harold."
A new voice broke in, and everyone turned to the old castle gate. There, waiting, his green coat blowing in the wind, was the Green Man.
"I call my first witness," Lady Sylvia spoke with greater confidence. "The Green Man!"