Rendell made his way over to the Laird and spoke to him. MacKenzie-Brown nodded, and made his way out of the room and into the library.

Rendell then struck the gong again and spoke to the assembled guests.

"Mr MacKenzie-Brown asks his invited guests to join him in the library," he announced, in his snootiest English accent. "As well as the musicians, who will play during the buffet supper that has been laid out for your enjoyment.

"Meanwhile, the rest of you here will be entertained before you leave by dances performed by the young ladies from the Institute of Higher Celtic Thought ." This last was said with a sneer in his voice, as the young ladies in question appeared in the doorway, clad in long diaphonous robes, with bells and scarves tied to their ankles.

With a sniff, Flora MacKenzie was already heading for the cloakroom.

"We'd better not keep our host waiting," said the Rector to Mabel Tawney. "The better music will be in the library. If you're interested in seeing the girls in action, I'll have a word with Garreth. I'm sure he'll be happy to arrange an evening session at the Institute."

"I would be interested in talking with them at some point," said Mabel, "but tonight I do really want to record Mr. MacKenzie." She hefted the case with her recorder in it and followed the Rector toward the library.

Dr. Campbell politely excused himself from Lady Amelia's company, observing that she intended to remain to watch the spectacle. Making his way towards the library, he fell in with the Rector and Ms. Tawney. "Good evening Reverend." He greeted the pair, inclining his head at Mabel and introducing himself as Dr. William Campbell.

Rendell picked up the cushion holding the Verrisay Cross and bore it solemnly into the Library as though taking part in an Italian religious procession.

Adrian moved at the same pace as Colin, determined to interpose himself if necessary to prevent any sort of physical altercation. In the meantime, the repast should prove to be excellent, unless his cousin had suddenly turned into a miser.

Garreth gave Caroline, Lynn, Angela, and Nedra a great smile and a wink for good luck as he escorted Dr. Marsden toward the library, looking to make sure Colin was following.

"See, a more private venue may be just the thing. Gives the Laird the ability to listen to reason and still save face in front of his crofters and the villagers," Garreth suggested.

"But Garreth... I don't care if MacKenzie-Brown saves face," she whispered. "He's already had men digging at the sites. That's what I found over at the burial mounds near the graveyard," she told him. "They just... oh never mind," she shook her head.

"I'm glad to see you found another set of the silk stockings in that trunk of yours."

"I borrowed Lynn 's," she confessed quietly. "She actually insisted I take them," she said with a hint of her usual dour humor.

"Hmm, just as well, she doesn't wear them often," he said with a twinkle in his eye again. "If I remember what Colin's said over the years as we took care of some of the sites, it's the Crown that's got say over what happens to that Cross, no?

"So how do we get the Crown to take interest?"

"I suppose I contact the Museum," Sandra said with a hint of hesitation in her voice. "But... it will take days for the message to get to them. And probably weeks before anything can be done to stop Mr. MacKenzie-Brown. If he can be stopped. I just don't know the Scottish law well enough," she said hopelessly.

"I think... we need to find out if any coins were also found in their digs," she whispered. "Then I'm sure the old treasure laws are enforcable. If there were no coins.. it gets trickier."

Conversation in the library was a little frigid after the events in the Great Hall, but the music (played by Davis and two other islanders) covered the lack of any discussions. Most people took the opportunity to help themselves to some of the delicious food being served on the buffet, or more delicious mulled wine, both set out on a long table running down the middle of the room.

Mabel Tawney, with Davis MacKenzie watching and helping if he liked, set up her recording equipment near the musicians, a large boxlike affair trailing wires and microphones. Once it was set up and working, she didn't stray far from it, keeping an eye on it while she nibbled at a plate of food and sipped at a glass of wine in a desultory fashion.

The Reverend Roberts circulated, doing his Christian duty in trying to being harmony to a decidedly inharmonious gathering. He urged people to explore a little, suggesting they visit the Armoury, which the late Laird (Colin's father) had turned into something of a museum ... Most people, however, did not seem interested. They preferred to remain in the library ... watching to see what would happen with varying degrees of nervousness, irritation or anger.

The Rector was also heard to ask a couple of people if they had seen his nephew, young Brian.

Colin ate very little, but he was drinking the mulled wine steadily - and his face was becoming increasingly red.

Dr. Marsden sipped her wine and didn't chose to engage in conversation. Her temper was still evident from the way she occassionsally glared at Douglas . But for the most part she spent the time after eating a light supper examining the books, or in the adjacent room of the armory taking in the current historical items of the castle.

Garreth watched his friend's attempt drown himself and had stopped his own drinking, hoping he wouldn't be the only level-head left to prevail.

Suddenly, MacKenzie-Brown made a signal. Rendell immediately went across and spoke to the musicians who, looking surprised, ceased playing.

"And now ... for something traditional," said MacKenzie-Brown. "As so many people tend to set such store by it."

The door of the library was thrown open. There stood a maid, holding a large silver salver on which reposed a larhe plum pudding, stuck with a holly sprig on top. Behind her stood a piper, in full MacKenzie regalia.

"Oh this is a farce!" said Colin with quiet anger to Garreth. "It's the haggis you pipe in - not some damn Sassenach pudding!"

Dr. Marsden wandered back in at this point to watch the production. She moved over near where Garreth and Colin were. "What's going on?" she asked in a confused tone as she looked at the piper and the pudding. "Isn't that a plum pudding? What on earth are they doing to it? Putting it on parade?"

"Same as he's done all evening," Garreth answered. "Emasculate himself in front of the good people of this island by insulting their traditions."

MacKenzie-Brown, though, gave another signal. The footmen in the room dimmed the lights, until the room was in darkness, save for the fire (nowhere near as large as the fire in the Great Hall). Then there was a sound of liquid glug-glugging, and the sudden flare of a match. Suddenly the pudding was alight with blue brandy flames, and the piper began to play.

Miss Tawney, who had gone over to switch off her machine when the music stopped, quickly switched it back on again.

"Five times round the table!" ordered MacKenzie Brown.

"If the brandy holds out that long," muttered Oswald to Lucinda, "the pudding will be ruined."

The housemaid began to move. Her face, rendered ghostly by the blue flames from the salver she carried, looked very worried.

And then, all the Scots present realised something quite ... alarming.

The tune that the Piper was playing was The Flowers of the Forest - a lament traditionally reserved for funerals.

From his spot near the doorway, the guests could hear Adrian 's deep intake of breath. Too softly for anybody not immediately next to him to hear, he said under his breath, "This is definitely not good."

It was on the third circuit that the disaster happened. The flames from the salver were at last beginning to die down, but it seemed the housemaid had, perhaps, been using their illumination to navigate. She faltered, and then stumbled, falling forwards, her face straight into the flames that were licking up from the pudding. She screamed in terror - a scream echoed by others in the room as the blue flames ran over her face and to her starched cap which promptly burst into flames.

There was a sudden crash of breaking crockery a glass and suddenly the flames were extinguished from view. Almost immediately the lights came back on, to reveal Lucinda sitting on the floor, a white swathed figure in her arms.

"I think she's all right," she said breathlessly. "Her hair might have suffered a bit, but the blue flames don't really burn, and I think I put her cap out in time."

It appeared that as soon as she saw what was happening, Lucinda had grabbed the tablecloth (one of five that covered the table) and had thrown it over the unfortunate maid, patting out the flames with her hands.

"Oh well done, old thing!" said Oswald.

Lucinda beamed at him. "But perhaps Dr Campbell should take a look?" she said anxiously.

David Bannister waited a moment and then (presumbly with Patience) strode over to the maid. "I'll take a look." he offered. "I think it might be more my more general practice anyway."

He made his way over to examine the injured and burned maid.

Will and Selina had slipped back among the others inobtrusively. They made no comment when the pudding was brought in, as neither had any idea as to how the tradition was meant to be upheld...

Selina stood quietly beside Douglas, her classic head drooping the slightest bit.

When the tremulous maid caught fire, Willie nearly dropped his cigarette, which might have caused a second blaze if it had dropped on or near the wrong thing, but fortunately he righted himself. When the young woman intervened so heroically, he managed a smile, though he thought the maid was probably pretty badly injured. He stood back waiting for the doctor to examine the poor girl.

Campbell excused himself, "Let me get my bag - its in the hall with the coats."

A few moments later, he made his way around the large table and kneeled next to the missionary doctor, Lucinda and the maid, his leather satchel in hand.

"How does it look?" he asked.

In fact, as Dr Bannister examined her, it became clear that the injuries weren't too bad at all. The girl's face was reddened, and she had lost some of her thick curls - but Lucinda's prompt action had saved her from worse injury.

As the lights came back on, Josette Bellesur, standing by the fireplace, found herself staring. eyeball to eyeball, with a large white rat - who seemed equally startled at the experience.

Josette ... in a moment of confusion and chaos forgot herself and did the first thing that came to her ... let out a high, feminine shriek of terror ... then quickly clamped a hand against her mouth.

Everyone (who wasn't immediately concerned with the injured housemaid) turned to look.

"What the hell is that?" snarled MacKenzie-Brown.

"A rat, sir," said Rendell, perhaps unnecessarily.

"And what the hell is it doing here?" MacKenzie-Brown went on. He glowered at one of the footman. "You - take it outside and kill it!"

The footman looked worried. "Sir ... that's not a wild rat .... That's someone's pet, that is. I dinnae swear to it, but I think it belongs to the Rector's nephew."

The Rector stepped forward anxiously. "Indeed ... I believe it is ... "

"Well if he didn't want it to meet the fate of all vermin he shouldn't have brought it into my house!" snarled MacKenzie-Brown. "Take it outside and kill it, damn you!"

The footman, pale-faced, caught the rat (whose biddability proved just how tame it was) and took it out.

"Oh, no, please! You mustn't kill the boy's pet!" Josette cried, her face flushed and guilty, "Really, I didn't mean to act such a ninny, only...it was just such a shock at the moment..." Her voice trailed off as she realized their host was paying no attention whatsoever to her objections.

Zap hastily went after the footman.

MacKenzie-Brown picked up his wine glass and downed it.

"And now," he said, looking with some hostility at Lucinda and the doctor, still with the injured housemaid, "as this room has been reduced to a shambles, I suggest we make our way to the drawing room. Rendell - see that the mulled wine is brought through."

And so saying, he stalked away towards the drawing room, leaving his guests to follow.

Appalled and still a trifle unnerved, Josette followed their host into the drawing room.

Selina jumped at Josette's scream, and averted her eyes from the cause of it. She did not dare interfere with Douglas 's angry order to the footman -- and she might not have in any case, as she was no fonder of rats than the French singer.

She followed Douglas as quickly as she could, knowing that properly he ought to have offered her his arm and escorted her.

Seeing the poor maid was in good hands and the rat out of his, The Major followed the Laird into the drawing room. His wine glass was left in the library however. Too many people around with their blood up and their brains pickled. The Major felt it best to be prepared.

Will was relieved by their heroine's declaration that the maid had not, in fact, been seriously burned. He decided to follow Selina and Douglas. After all, disaster had been averted, and now he needed to keep his promise to have Selina's back. From the rumblings and glares in the library when they'd returned, he had the feeling Douglas was not exactly making new friends.

Will offered his arm to Lucinda. "Quick thinking, indeed. That girl has much to be thankful for due to your actions. Her injuries could have been far worse."

He followed the others to the drawing room.

Selina gave Will a sidelong glance as they moved into the drawing room. To his relief, there was a twinkle in her eye...

He grinned at her. A vague idea was forming in his head. There might be a safe way out of this mess.

Eversham was tiring of his host's abrupt style of hospitality -- only marginally made up for by the incredible personal tensions that man left in his wake. In the course of an hour, the man had half his own household of guests ready to strangle him, and there were still several days left in the holiday.

If everything his lordship had heard concerning MacKenzie-Brown's ties to the BNB was true, it was possible he might execute the good deed himself, but that was a far cry from certainty, at this stage.

Lord Eversham lurked in the doorway to the Great Hall, to catch sight of his sister. She had somehow disappeared amid that sea of heads, so instead he sauntered over to a puchbowl and ladled himself a full glass, ruminating on his last visit to the BNB offices.

Humboldten had caught him just outside the Great Man's office, that ever-present sneer across his ruddy face, and asked him if he had any Christmas plans.

Obviously the man knew his plans, or he wouldn't have mentioned it. Humboldten was not the type to be curious, with an intent to invite out -- and he never asked a question to which he wasn't sure he already knew the answer. So Alan had said nothing, and the gloating fool had paraded on. He dropped hints about Verrisay, about men skulking about in cloaks, daggers drawn -- and there he'd chuckled, an ugly sound full of phlegm and malice.

Alan had instructed him to get to the point -- it wasn't wise, he'd said, to keep the Great Man waiting.

"Well," Humboldten had said, as though hurt and suddenly drawing back from revealing an important and tasty secret, "I wouldn't want to detain you, I suppose. Only, I might be careful, if I were you. Consider -- with all this going on under his very nose -- don't you think MacKenzie-Brown's got to be in it up to his eyeballs?" And again he chuckled. "Just a thought," he'd tossed off casually, and then had stalked away, smirking.

When Alan had actually got in to see Sir Charles, he'd naturally brought up MacKenzie-Brown and Verrisay, but the old man had very blandly informed him, "Don't worry about that, your lordship -- the company's got it well in hand," and would say no more on the subject.

Ah. There she was.

Lord Eversham crossed to where his sister was regaling an elderly fisherman of the trials of her Classics studies and her "half-potted" professor, and addressed her quietly:

"Amelia -- the party has moved on to the drawing-room. Won't you join us?"

"Oh, yes, of course! Excuse me, please, dear Mr. Dunlop. Oh -- er -- Mr. Dunlop, my brother, Lord Eversham. This is Mr. Dunlop, of the village ... Oh, all right, don't give me that expectant look, I'm coming. Forgive us, please, Mr. Dunlop."

From the tour earlier, Alan knew where the drawing-room was. The corridor opened near the library door, and ran straight out under the staircase, then turned to open onto the front entry; here it turned again, running straight alongside the gallery, which apparently doubled as a ball-room. At the far end of the corridor, one door led off to the dining-room, and opposite that was the green baize door to the kitchens and work rooms. Just short of the dining-room, a pair of recessed doors bearing over-gilded French panels stood open to the drawing-room, and Lord Eversham led the way in.

The housekeeper appearing, it was agreed that the best thing would be for the maid to be sent to bed, her face annointed with burn ointment and given a sedative to calm her nerves and help her sleep. Dr Campbell would visit her in the morning and - if the housekeeper was worried - she would be able to find him in the drawing room.

Then the three guests were free to join the others in the drawing room.

And thus Dr. Bannister and his wife did so.

In the drawing room, Selina detached herself from Douglas as quickly as politeness allowed. She filled a pair of glasses with mulled wine and carried one to Josette. "Josette! Darling, it's been ages -- and what a horrid greeting for you! Like walking to church and falling into a big black pit. I'm so very sorry!"

Josette looked quite flabbergasted at the thought of the church swallowing her whole.

She let her voice fall to the level of one confidant to another, as she handed Josette one of the glasses. "Here, drink some of this. Though you don't need it half as bad as I do." Selina and Josette had performed together, back in the States; Selina saw no reason to put on a show for Josette.

"No need for you to apologize, dear Selina," Josette replied sincerely,"You planned a lovely party. Everyone seems to be behaving now though, so perhaps, it will take a turn for the festive." Everyone but that dreadful husband of hers, Josette thought, though she saw no reason to throw that in Selinas' face. She couldn't control him anymore than she could the maid falling flat on her face into the flaming pudding.

"Oh, but I didn't plan it! Douglas wouldn't let me near anyone or anything. And now look -- I've seen more festive cast parties after one-night wonders, haven't you?" Selina hadn't entirely lost the edge of her tongue to Douglas , apparently.

In the library, Davis and the musicians waited, neither having been called by MacKenzie-Brown nor dismissed. When all the guests left, they could likely consider the leftovers to be the proper spoils of the musicians.

Mabel Tawney was still standing by her recorder. If the other guests left and the musicians stayed, she thought hopefully, perhaps she could persuade them to perform some of the traditional, local pieces for her that the other guests would not be interested in. Not that she'd break into their conversation...

"I dinnae know, Alaisdair. Right o' tenancy sounds guid, and 'tis right and proper, but he's a man wi' a lot of money, and money is a powerful swayer of opinion. I know what ye' heard, I've been hearing bits o' it mysel' as well. We'll have to get the men o' the village t'gather and talk on't. Maybe Garreth will help us with our problem, he kennet the law." Davis ' accent had become broader and thicker than before and his hands were balled into fists at his side, as if the approach of the wrong person might lead to violence.

There was a quiet cough from the doorway.

The one standing there was probably the wrong person as far as Davis was concerned, for it was Rendell, the English butler.

Luckily for the butler, he was out of reach.

"The Laird wants you in the drawing room, Davis ," he said. "You two are dismissed. He says a single fiddler will make quite enough noise to entertain the guests. I shall show you to the door. You know the way to the drawing room, Davis ."

It seemed that the musicians were not to be permitted even the broken meats.

Mabel sighed and turned off the recorder, then looked toward Davis MacKenzie to see what he would do. What she would really like would be to leave this disaster of a party and treat all three men to drinks at the local pub, in return for some songs worth collecting ... even if it meant trudging back through the snow to the village. But the pub would be closed for Christmas anyway, she imagined.

Davis turned to his two companions. "Gae 'til wha' we ha' takit o' ta' th' elders. I'll bide. They'll ken tae what is needful."

He packed his fiddle in the battered case and stiffly marched into the drawing room, never bothering to correct the sassenach about his proper form of address nor that of their host.

Zap hastened after the footman. "Hey! Er... Hello!"

The footman hesitated and then stopped.

"Yes, sir?"

"The rat belongs to -- er -- a young man of my acquaintance. Despite your, er, master's instructions I'm sure that no one would like to see a boy's holidays spoiled." Discreetly some folding money was slipped into the footman's hand. "I'll personally undertake to make sure he's returned to his owner. Actually I'll take full responsibility. Ah. You wouldn't know where I could get some grain -- a cupful or so, perhaps? If he's got a full belly, he's actually rather likely to fall asleep."

The footman hesitated, and then grinned. "Keep your money, sir. Davis and the Laird would have my liver if I killed the boy's pet." He suddenly looked gloomy. "The old Laird, that is. Mr Colin.

"Never you mind, sir. There's a hutch in the stables where I'll put the rat till the boy goes home. But you'd best not tell anyone yet. Just say you were too late - and I'll slip a quiet word to young Brian later on."

"Are you sure? I don't want you getting into trouble or losing your place. There's not a great deal he can do to me except kick me off this island -- but I know what it's like to go hungry."

"Never you mind, sir," said the footman cheerfully. "Davis MacKenzie and Mr Colin will look after me."

It was clear he regarded these two as champions,perhaps unaware of how powerless they seemed to be when confronted by the new Laird.

"If...by any chance they can't...get word to me in America ." Zap patted his pockets, but had nothing to write with. Which under normal circumstances was just as well. "Ah...I have some cards upstairs in my trunk. Please make sure I give you one. Ah...and your name is?"

"Ewan MacKenzie, sir," said the footman. "And it would be an honour to have your card, Mister Zap! I saw one of your films once when I was in Glasgow - and it made me laugh till I cried."

"I am very happy to meet you, Mr. MacKenzie," Zap said, smiling, "and I will pass your compliment on to Map as well -- when he's back from his honeymoon. Ah...could you explain anything to me about this old Laird / new Laird business?"

"Certainly, Sir," said Ewan obligingly. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, I have to admit I'm confused. Maybe it's because I'm American. I thought a Laird was a Laird for life, and all that."

Ewan MacKenzie hesitated.

"Generally speaking, he is, Sir. But the old Laird - Mr Colin's father, that was, ran up some debts. And then Mr Colin ... well, sir, I wouldn't want to speak ill of him. But he had a bad time in the war, Sir, and afterwards he went a little wild. Afterward there were more debts, till by the time the old Laird died, there wasn't enough left to looks after the island. That was when Mr MacKenzie-Brown stepped in and offered to take over the island if Mr Colin would step aside. And he did, Sir, to look after all of us.

"Only now they're saying that the new Laird is going back on his word ... and there's nothing Mr Colin can do."

"Oh." Zap didn't know what to say. "I'm, um, very sorry. Is there anything anyone can do?"

Ewan looked grave. "If they can't change the Laird's mind, there's nothing anyone can do, sir."

"Well, I'll..." Zap felt like a fish out of water, but he said gamely "I'll do what I can to help. Whatever that is."


 

End of Chapter 6

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