In this very graveyard, on that very lake, there was a young man fishing for his dinner. He had rowed out to the centre of the lake near the branch of an ancient dead tree where he had sat patiently for an hour or so waiting for any sign of life in the still murky depths. It was early evening autumn and the light was dull silvery blue. All of a sudden right next to the boat a slender arm reached up out of the water. It held a sack of gold coins. The man took the coins from the hand, rowed hastily back to the little pier where he tied his boat and ran home. That night he went to town and spent freely. He bought a fine suit and an ivory pipe then went to the bar. He soon found with his small fortune came many friends and women. Feeling like a Prince he drank the night away and made a squanderous merry with the size of his sack.
The next day he went out to the same spot on the lake at the same time and sat there pretending to fish. An hour or so later the hand came back looking thinner and paler holding a fine golden chalice studded with Emeralds and Rubies. There was a ringing in the air, as he took hold of the cup all fell silent. He rowed quickly back tied his boat returned to the bar to spend more gold. From his chalice he greedily drank and all his new friends remarked how much of a fine Honourable man he had become recently. Looking at the rare chalice with a wanting glee in their eyes. He relished the compliments and soon spent another night in the room upstairs at the bar.
When he awoke he found that the rest of his gold coins and the chalice had disappeared. He became angry and raged through the streets tearing up peoples houses. He was a big man and people where afraid of him but they soon clubbed together and ran him out of town firing shots into the air. Cold, Lonely and still angry he went to his boat again hoping for more fortune to be offered then maybe he could buy a plane or a boat out of there, for he had caused such a fuss in the town he was sure they would never let him back without killing him. He slowly paddled out to that same spot where he sat and waited……….and waited………..and waited. He awoke in a start when a sudden splash came. There in front of him was a rotting skeleton arm holding on to the most beautiful crown he had ever seen. The hand was a little further away from his boat than before, entranced by the glamorous object he stretched out to reach it. As he took hold of the crown the rotting festering arm grabbed him by the neck and he heard a deep loud voice say "Now you will be king!" The hand pulled him to the bottom of the lake where he never re-appeared.
Sometimes on a cold silvery autumn evening you can hear the little boat crossing the lake. Sometimes you can hear a jingle of golden coins in the bushes behind you. Sometimes you can hear the voice. "soon you will be King".
