"Help!" "Help!" "Bind him to the stone." "Leonard, I don't like this!" "It is the will of the Cailleach." "It's murder!" "We cannot question the will of the Goddess." "Leonard, think!" "Think what you're doing." "The Cailleach demands blood." "She's never demanded a human sacrifice before." "I dare not oppose her will, I dare not." "If it's her will, where is she?" "Why isn't she here?" "She will come." "Leonard, this man may be missed." "He must have friends." "Surely, if they inform the police..." "The Cailleach will have foreseen everything." "We must have faith." "She will come." "Help!" "Help me, somebody!" "Help me!" "Hello!" "I hope that knife's been properly sterilized." "Blasphemer!" "No, you can catch all sorts of things off a dirty knife, you know, lockjaw, tetanus, not to mention staphylococcal infections..." "I'm not going to be a party to this!" "Good for you." "Then don't be." "Hold it." "Does your Cailleach ride a bicycle?" "Bicycle?" "Yes!" "You'll die with blasphemy on your lips." "It's just that I can see a bicycle approaching, unless I'm very much mistaken." "Over here!" "Help!" "Over here!" "Hang on!" "I'm coming!" "Phew!" "Good grief, man!" "What are you doing?" "You'll catch your death of cold." "Well, you know how it is, Professor." "I often get tied up in my job." "Who were these people?" "Careful." "They looked as if they were going to cut your throat." "Yes." "Thank you." "Well, I don't think they'd quite made up their minds, but that was definitely one of their options." "Why have you come back?" "I came back to give Romana a flask of tea." "Knowing how irresponsible men are," "I thought she'd still be waiting for you." "But I thought she was with you." "No, she stayed behind to wait for you." "What?" "Then where is she?" "Help!" "Help!" "Is anybody there?" "Romana!" "Romana!" "Nothing." "I don't want to be alarmist, but if she's lost on the moor, there are several old mine workings." "It can be very dangerous in the dark." "Yes." "Thank you." "Ro..." "Look." "Oh!" "Her shoes." "Yes." "Romana!" "Well, the only thing we can do is to organise a search party in the morning." "Of course, if we had a dog..." "Dog?" "Professor Rumford..." "May I call you Emilia?" "Emilia, you're a genius." "You have a dog?" "Have I got a dog!" "That's one of those high-frequency whistles, isn't it?" "Yeah, something like that." "Come on, K9." "Master?" "I'll try and meet him halfway." "You stay here in case Romana comes back." "Yes, of course." "Doctor?" "Yes?" "It's getting rather exciting, isn't it?" "What?" "Yes, yes, of course." "Let's hope it doesn't get too exciting, eh?" "Master," "Shh!" "What?" "K9, why don't you bark or something?" "I'm not programmed to bark, Master," "Yes, listen, never mind about that." "I've got a job for you." "Now, you've always wanted to be a bloodhound..." "Negative, Master," "Yes, you have." "Yes, you have." "Hush!" "Here's your chance." "Find Romana, hmm?" "Programme achievable, Master," "The mistress's scent, blood, tissue type and alpha wave pattern are all recorded in my databanks," "Don't just talk about it, K9." "Do it!" "Do it!" "Getting direction, Master," "I have the direction, Master," "Good dog, good dog." "Well, go." "Mistress?" "Oh, K9!" "I am pleased to hear you." "Fear is unnecessary, Mistress, We shall rescue you," "The Doctor Master is with me," "Oh, no!" "Romana, where are you?" "Keep away!" "What?" "What are you talking about?" "K9, watch him!" "Stop messing about down there." "Here, catch hold of this." "Oh, no." "I'm not giving you a second chance." "Stop messing around down there." "Come on, come on." "You pushed me over the edge." "Me?" "Never." "Come on." "Come on." "Get away from me!" "What's the matter?" "Who are you?" "What?" "You know very well who I..." "K9, who am I?" "Well, go on, K9." "Tell her who I am." "K9?" "Cross-checking," "You are the Doctor Master," "There you are." "I'm the Doctor." "Well, if you didn't push me over this cliff, then who did?" "And believe me, it was no projection." "You were solid." "Well, it was solid." "What?" "It looked exactly like me?" "The image of you." "Doctor, the third segment..." "Yes." "The power to transform objects, or at least their appearance." "Yes." "Somebody's got it and they've found a way of utilising its powers." "Right." "So, what do we do?" "Get you a decent pair of shoes." "Better?" "Yes, thanks." "Still got the Tracer?" "Of course." "Good." "I want you to check the stone circle again." "What do you think I was doing before you pushed me over the..." "All right." "There was no trace, I promise you." "Well, it's got to be somewhere." "It can't be there." "Well, of course it can." "How's your interspatial geometry?" "Well, pretty rusty, but I still don't see..." "Good." "Come on, let's go, then." "...how that explains..." "Do you understand, K9?" "I mean, how can a thing be in one place and yet not be in that place?" "If you mean you don't know, why don't you just say so?" "Oh, Emilia, don't blame yourself." "I shouldn't have let him go on his own." "I shouldn't have let him go at all." "He doesn't know the moor." "I should have gone myself." "Someone had to stay here in case the girl came back." "And it should have been the Doctor." "Try the Tracer again." "Now." "Yes, definitely positive." "Yes." "That's what I thought." "I'm sure the Doctor's perfectly capable of looking after himself." "I'm not sure I'd entirely agree with that remark." "Thank Heavens!" "You're safe." "Doctor, she's..." "What's that?" "This is my dog." "He's called K9." "But he's mechanical." "Affirmative," "But isn't that rather..." "No, no, no." "They're all the rage in Trenton, New jersey." "Really?" "Do you need a licence?" "Yes." "No." "Negative," "What's that?" "That's just a little gadget." "Doctor, it's here." "It's definitely here." "What is?" "Yes." "Somewhere." "I still don't understand." "I think I'm beginning to." "Professor Rum..." "Emilia?" "Come over here." "You've done a lot of research on the circle, haven't you?" "Naturally." "Legends?" "Folklore?" "History?" "Well, nobody's ever had to question the quality of my research." "No, no." "Where do you keep your notes?" "Back at Miss Fay's cottage." "Would you show them to Romana?" "Oh, I'd be delighted." "Good." "Where are you going, Doctor?" "I'm going to see Mr De Vries." "What, after what he did to you?" "Because of what he did to me." "I think that Mr De Vries is a very worried man, and worried men often sing worried songs." "Come along, K9." "Come on, girls." "Back to the cottage." "I've got lots of research to show you." "Hop on the back." "Do you mind if I just walked?" "Nonsense." "You may find it rather hard..." "It'll be a new experience for you." "No need to be afraid." "Where's the bird?" "Where's the raven?" "It was here." "Perhaps..." "It's gone!" "Too late!" "Cailleach, great goddess, have mercy!" "What's that?" "Too late!" "Get out of here, Martha!" "As fast as you can." "Quick!" "Leonard, I'm not going to leave you!" "Go!" "Danger, Master, Danger," "What?" "Unidentified aliens," "Come on, K9." "Dead." "Skull smashed to pulp." "So much for serving the Cailleach." "Master," "What?" "That is silicon, Master," "I wonder where that came from, hmm?" "From whatever attacked those two humans, There is a trail, It leads through here," "Steady, K9." "Shh!" "Seems all clear, K9." "Master?" "Stone." "K9?" "K9?" "Here you are, my girl." "Oh, thank you." "Vivien is making some sausage sandwiches." "Nothing like sausage sandwiches when you're working something out." "Well." "Now, any problems with the notes?" "No." "No, they're very full." "You say here that you've identified the Nine Travellers, our stone circle, as one of the three gorsedds of prophecy." "What's a gorsedd?" "Old Welsh." "A gorsedd is a place of augurs, people who foretell the future." "There's an ancient Welsh triad that says..." "It's a three-line poem." "Umpity-bumpity..." "You'll find them in the notes." "The three gorsedds in the island of Britain are the gorsedd of Salisbury in England." "And that's Stonehenge, of course." "The Gorsedd of Bryn Gwyddon in Wales, and the Gorsedd of Boscombe Moor in Damnonium." "And that's our Nine Travellers." "Yes, but why should this particular circle become a place of prophecy, of augury?" "You say yourself that there are a dozen or more stone circles in this part of the country." "If knew that, I'd be professor of megalithic archaeology at Bangor, instead of that fool, Idwal Morgan." "There is one thing which does strike me as rather curious." "Mmm-hmm?" "Well, until recently, the land the circle stands on has always been owned by a woman." "Haven't you noticed?" "Lady Montcalm, Señora Camara, Mrs Trefusis..." "And if you go further back, right in the Middle Ages, it came under the control of the mother superior of the Convent of the Little Sisters of St Gudula." "What does that prove?" "Lots of convents and monasteries owned enormous areas of land in the Middle Ages." "Yes, but here it was women." "All women." "What are you suggesting, Romana?" "Some kind of sisterhood that's been worshipping these stones for..." "When was the convent founded?" "12th century, wasn't it?" "...for 700-odd years?" "That's a little bit hard to believe, isn't it?" "What other explanation is there?" "What about Mr De Vries?" "He doesn't quite qualify as a head of a sisterhood." "Maybe he's not really the head." "This convent, does it still exist?" "Good heavens, no." "And it was a man who saw to that, Henry VIII." "It went the way of all flesh with the dissolution of the monasteries." "What about the convent records?" "I should think they were destroyed." "Some of them could still be at the hall." "The hall?" "What hall?" "Mr De Vries's house." "It was built in 1572 on the old site of the convent." "Well, let's go and take a look!" "What are we waiting for?" "Oh, good girl!" "That's the spirit." "No time like the present." "Get my bike, Vivien." "Uh..." "Romana can borrow mine." "You won't be needing me with you, will you?" "No, keep a good fire burning in case the Doctor comes back." "Ah, here we are." "What's that?" "A policeman's truncheon." "Last year, when she went to lecture in New York, she took it with her in case she got mugged." "And did she get mugged?" "No." "She got arrested for carrying an offensive weapon." "Come along, Romana." "Tally-ho!" "Great Scott!" "What's happened?" "Who can have done this?" "Doctor?" "Oh, K9, what have they done to you?" "Oh, poor little fellow." "Is he badly hurt?" "I'll know in a moment." "I did my best, Master, but it was so strong," "What was it?" "Silicon-based, globulin-deficient," "What?" " Too strong," "Globulin-deficient?" "Is he all right?" "His entire circuit's nearly all burnt out." "Yes, but is it reparable?" "Initial damage report suggests not, Mistress," "Advise cannibalization of reusable parts," "Oh, nonsense, K9, nonsense." "We're not gonna turn you into scrap yet." "Are we, Romana?" "What can we do?" "His only chance is an entire circuit regeneration." "How can we do that in time to save him?" "It might be kinder to remove the cerebral core now." "Oh, no!" "If we remove the cerebral core, he's finished." "What can we do?" "A molecular stabilizer." "What?" "Is the TARDIS fitted with a molecular stabilizer?" "Yes, of course it was." "All type 40s were." "I thought so." "We had a lecture once at the Academy." "If I link up the molecular stabilizer to the circuit frequency modulator..." "Brilliant!" "You really think so?" "What?" "I mean, it's quite ingenious." "Anyway, it's worth a try." "Anything's worth a try." "Look at him, he's on his last legs." "Right." "You get him back to the Tardis and connect him up." "I'll stay here with the Professor and look for those bodies." "Bodies?" "What bodies?" "Right." "De Vries and the woman." "They've been killed by that creature." "You heard what K9 said." ""Creature"?" "It's globulin-deficient." "Globulin?" "What's globulin?" "It's a protein found in blood plasma." "The creature that kills them lives on blood." "Ogri..." "Ogri..." "You shall do my bidding." "Do you hear, Ogri?" "Do you hear?" "Anything?" "Nothing prior to 1 700." "You?" "Nothing." "I've searched the whole house." "Completely empty." "No secret passages, no hidden rooms, nothing." "It's got to be here, though." "What has?" "The Cailleach." "The witch hag?" "Yes." "It's only a legend." "Yes, I know." "And so was Troy till dear old Schliemann dug it up." "Morrigu, Cerridwen, call her what you like." "In 4,000 years, I expect she's had quite a few names." "But where is she, hmm?" "No statues, no images, no p..." "Of course!" "The missing paintings!" "They must be here somewhere." "I don't see why the paintings are so important." "What?" "Then why have they been hidden?" "Hmm?" "Tell me that." "Why have they been hidden?" ""Beware of the birds," he said." ""The raven and the crow."" ""The raven and the crow." Birds!" "Where?" "What?" "Phew!" "Jumping joshua!" "A priest hole!" "Well, certainly, the place is old enough." "Come on." "Wait for me, Doctor." "Now, mind these stairs..." "Look." "Lady Montcalm, painted by Allan Ramsay." "Good grief!" "I don't believe it!" "Lady Montcalm, Señora Camara, Mrs Trefusis." "I know that face." "So you should." "It's your friend Miss Fay." "Oh!" "You scared the life out of me!" "Did I?" "I'm so sorry." "Look." "Oh." "Is there something going on in the circle?" "Strange." "Let's take a look, shall we?" "Vivien, what are you doing?" "You're hurting me!" "Hurry!" "What's going on?" "What are you doing?"