Fitzhugh. He will know what to do.”
“Aye,” the usher said. “Come, Captain.”
Duff followed the usher down a side corridor to an area behind the stage.
“I heard Mr. Service call you MacCallister. Be ye a kinsman to Andrew and Rosanna MacCallister?”
“I am told that is so, though I confess that I have never met them,” Duff said.
“They are quite famous in theater,” Timothy said. “We are very lucky to have them come to Glasgow to perform.”
They came to a large room with chairs and sofas, also tables with tea and biscuits on them.
“’Tisn’t green,” Duff said.
“Beg pardon, sir?” Timothy asked.
“He said take me to a ‘green room.’ This room isn’t green.”
The usher laughed. “It’s what they call the room where the actors can gather offstage. I think the first one must have been green. Now ’tis the name for all.”
“Makes no sense to me,” Duff said.
“Aye, nor does it make sense to me,” Timothy said. “There is much about the theater that makes no sense to one who is not in the business. But ’tis a good job to have.”
There were several men and women standing about in costumes and stage makeup, talking among themselves in words and phrases that were unique and exclusive to their profession.
“George was out on the apron, corpsing while we were working out the blocking. He had me so flummoxed that I didn’t know whether to go stage left or stage right,” a young woman was saying.
“Had it been me, I would have just given my exit line and stepped behind the backdrop,” a young man said, and they all laughed.
“Mr. Fitzhugh, this is Captain MacCallister,” the usher said, introducing Duff to an older, bald-headed man who was wearing square-rim glasses situated far down on his nose. He was looking at notes he had fastened to a clipboard.
“Ah, yes, Captain,” Mr. Fitzhugh said. “Mr. MacCallister was hoping you would come. If you would wait here, sir, I shall summon him.”
“Thank you,” Duff said. He moved over to one side of the room, providing some separation between himself and the players in costume and makeup. He noticed that one or two of the young women seemed to be paying special attention to him, and he looked away self-consciously.
Suddenly all the conversation stopped.
“Mr. MacCallister, can I do something for you?” someone asked.
Duff looked up, thinking the person was talking to him, but saw that they were talking to another person, a man who was in his early fifties and carrying himself with great dignity. Like the others, he was in costume and makeup.
“No, thank you, relax, relax,” the man said. Spying Duff, a broad smile spread across his face. “Cousin Duff, how good of you to come,” he said, extending his hand.
“It was good of you to invite me,” Duff replied, appreciative of the man’s firm grip. “You would be Cousin Andrew?”
“I am,” Andrew replied.
“Ma’am,” someone said and, as they had with Andrew, all stood in respectful silence as a very attractive woman, also in costume and makeup, came into the room.
“Sister, come and meet our Scottish kin,” Andrew called to her. “Cousin Duff, this is Rosanna.”
Rosanna stuck out her hand and Duff bowed his head slightly, then raised her hand to his lips for a kiss.
“Oh, my! How gallant!” Rosanna said. “Andrew, do pay attention to our young cousin, perhaps you will learn a thing or two.”
“Timothy?” Andrew said.
“Yes, m’laird?” the usher replied.
“Please take Mr. MacCallister to the orchestra, row five, center seat,” Andrew said. He smiled again at Duff. “I may have just sown the seeds of my own disaster. That is the best seat in the house. If I stink up the stage with a poor performance, there will be no hiding it from you. The play we are presenting tonight is called
“Oh, I am certain that I will greatly enjoy the performance,” Duff replied.
When Duff was escorted with great pomp and circumstance to his seat in the theater, he was aware of the reaction of the others when he, a Highlander in the uniform of the Black Watch, took the best seat in the house.
The lights in the theater dimmed, but were brightened on the stage. Before curtain rise, the sound of a storm
