On Saturday, 31st October, 1964, a man arrived in the village. It was late in the evening. He was looking for somewhere to stay the night. He knocked at a door and a woman opened it.
'Good evening, madam,' the man said. 'I'm sorry it's so late. But can you help me, please? Is there a hotel in this village? I want to stay here tonight.'
The woman laughed. 'A hotel? Here in Woodend? No, sir, I'm afraid there isn't.'
'What a pity,' said the man. 'I'm a stranger here. And I want to see your village tomorrow.'
The stranger was very polite. He was tall and had dark hair. And he had strange green eyes.
'Perhaps Mrs Harrison can help you,' the woman said. 'She has a room. Perhaps you can stay with her. Wait a minute. I'll get my coat, and I'll take you there.'
The woman took the stranger to Mrs Harrison's house. Mrs Harrison gave him a room for the night. He was very glad. It was the last night of October and it was cold.
The next day was Sunday. The man looked round the village. He was very interested in the history of the village. He met some of the villagers and asked them their names.
But he did not visit the church. That was unusual. The church in Woodend was the most beautiful building in the village. But the stranger was not interested in it. He did not go to church that night with all the villagers. It was the first Sunday evening of November.
When the villagers came out of the church, the man had gone. They had all liked him. The ladies had thought he was very good-looking.