"I have it! Pierre will fiddle for you." Jamie jumped to his feet. "Hark!"
We listened. Sure enough, from some room behind the kitchen offices, probably in the summer kitchen, we could hear the faint but merry sounds of a violin.
"They 're celebrating your home-coming, Ewart! I knew they were up to snuff when Angélique gave me an order for a half a dozen bottles of the 'vin du pays', you remember, Marcia? They 're at it now. I might have known it, for they have n't come in to say good night."
"Let's have them all in then," said Mr. Ewart. "They 'll stay up as long as we do."
"Will you sing for them?" Mrs. Macleod put the question directly to her host.
"For you and them, if you wish it," was the cordial reply. "Jamie, you 're master of ceremonies and have had something up your sleeve all this evening; I know by your looks. Bring them in."
Jamie laughed mischievously. "Oh, I 'll bring them in," he said. I knew then that, unknown to his mother and me, he had planned a surprise.
"Get Cale in, if you can," Mr. Ewart called after him.
"Oh, Cale 's abed before this; he does n't acknowledge you as his lord of the manor, not yet."
"That was remarkable, Gordon," said the Doctor, as soon as the door closed on Jamie.