o listen to the voice of the nightingale who sang on more
gloriously than ever. Yet, though they stood so close together, their
glances seldom met, and they were very silent. But at last, as though
making up her mind, Anthea spoke:

"What did you mean when you said Old Nannie's dreams were so wonderful?"
she asked.

"I'll show you!" he answered, and, while he spoke, slipped off his coat,
and drawing up his shirt-sleeve, held out a muscular, white arm towards
her. He held it out in the full radiance of the moon, and thus, looking
down at it, her eyes grew suddenly wide, and her breath caught strangely
as surprise gave place to something else; for there, plain to be seen
upon the white flesh, were three long scars that wound up from elbow to
shoulder. And so, for a while, they stood thus, she looking at his arm,
and he at her.

"Why--" said she at last, finding voice in a little gasp,--"why then--"

"I am the Man with the Tiger Mark!" he said, smiling his slow, placid
smile. Now, as his eyes looked down into hers, she flushed sudden, and
hot, and her glance wavered, and fell beneath his.

"Oh!" she cried, and, with the word, turned about, and fled from him
into the house.

CHAPTER XII

_In which may be found a full, true, and particular account of the sale_

"Uncle Porges, there's a little man in the hall with a red, red nose,
an' a blue, blue chin,--"

"Yes, I've seen him,--also his nose, and chin, my Porges."

"But he's sticking little papers with numbers on them, all over my
Auntie Anthea's chairs,--an' tables. Now what do you s'pose he's doing
that for?"

"Who knows? It's probably all on account of his red nose, and blue chin,
my Porges. Anyway, don't worry about him,--let us rather, find our
Auntie Anthea."

They found her in the hall. And it _was_ a hall, here, at Dapplemere,
wide, and high, and with a minstrel's gallery at one end; a hall that,
years and years ago, had often rung with the clash of men-at-arms, and
echoed with loud, and jovial laughter, for this was the most ancient
part of the Manor.

It looked rather bare, and barren, just now, for the furniture was all
moved out of place,--ranged neatly round the walls, and stacked at the
farther end, beneath the gallery where the little man in question, blue
of chin, and red of nose, was hovering about it, dabbing little tickets
on chairs, and tables,--even as Small Porges had said.

And, in the midst of it all, stood Anthea, a desolate fig