At that second Sir Oswald strode into the room. “So that damned twittery woman was really an actress all along, was she? Well, I never. Had us all fooled. And harboring an escaped convict too. Hope they catch the pair of them. Coming here and eating my food!” He stomped across the room, scattering mud from his boots. “I know what I’d like to do with them—feed ’em to my pigs. That’s what I’d do.”

“Now, don’t upset yourself, Oswald,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said. “And we have the inspector here.”

“What?” He stared at Inspector Newcombe as if he’d just seen him for the first time. “How do you do,” he said brusquely. “Damned funny business.”

I took my cue and led Darcy away down the hall to tell him what had been proposed. He wasn’t at all happy about it. “I don’t know if I want you exposed out there. If either of them suspects you had something to do with their being discovered, he might take a potshot at you too. Or she might. Who knows whether she’s the mastermind behind this.”

“But if Lady Hawse-Gorzley is willing to risk her own life, I can hardly not do my part, can I?” I said. “After all, Geordie Lachan Rannoch followed Bonnie Prince Charlie into battle. I can’t let the side down.”

“What happened to Geordie Lachan Rannoch?” he asked with an expression of amused tenderness.

“He was hacked to pieces, unfortunately, but that’s not the point.”

“The point is that the Rannochs should have learned a little sense since then.”

“You’ll be there to keep an eye on me.”

“I’m tempted to make you wear a saucepan lid inside your coat, in case someone shoots at you.”

“Well, everyone is going to be carrying pots and pans, so I don’t see why not.” And we both laughed, a trifle nervously.

But the day seemed to stretch on endlessly. The other guests felt it too, although they were not apprised of what might happen that evening. We dined well. Lady Hawse-Gorzley served leg of pork, with the most wonderful crackling, sage and onion stuffing, baked onions, roast potatoes, cauliflower cheese, and apple pie to follow. We lingered over coffee and liqueurs and afterward let off the last few indoor fireworks. Then around eleven we put on coats, hats, scarves and gloves and we all trooped down the driveway, each of us armed with a saucepan or lid and a wooden spoon to beat on it. Others were already assembling on the village green. The first thing I noticed was how hard it was to recognize anybody under all that outerwear. They might all be policemen or one of them might be Robbins. He was a big chap. That’s all I knew. And I took heart in the fact that those assembled seemed to know each other.