t."

"I think he is most delightful, Robert," said Laura. "Remember, you have
promised to take us up to the Hall. And he evidently wishes us to go
soon. Don't you think we might go this afternoon?"

"I hardly think that, Laura. You leave it in my hands, and I will
arrange it all. And now I must get to work, for the light is so very
short on these winter days."

That night Robert McIntyre had gone to bed, and was dozing off when a
hand plucked at his shoulder, and he started up to find his sister in
some white drapery, with a shawl thrown over her shoulders, standing
beside him in the moonlight.

"Robert, dear," she whispered, stooping over him, "there was something I
wanted to ask you, but papa was always in the way. You will do something
to please me, won't you, Robert?"

"Of course, Laura. What is it?"

"I do so hate having my affairs talked over, dear. If Mr. Raffles Haw
says anything to you about me, or asks any questions, please don't say
anything about Hector. You won't, will you, Robert, for the sake of your
little sister?"

"No; not unless you wish it."

"There is a dear good brother." She stooped over him and kissed him
tenderly.

It was a rare thing for Laura to show any emotion, and her brother
marvelled sleepily over it until he relapsed into his interrupted doze.

CHAPTER VI. A STRANGE VISITOR.

The McIntyre family was seated at breakfast on the morning which
followed the first visit of Raffles Haw, when they were surprised to
hear the buzz and hum of a multitude of voices in the village street.
Nearer and nearer came the tumult, and then, of a sudden, two maddened
horses reared themselves up on the other side of the garden hedge,
prancing and pawing, with ears laid back and eyes ever glancing at some
horror behind them. Two men hung shouting to their bridles, while a
third came rushing up the curved gravel path. Before the McIntyres could
realise the situation, their maid, Mary, darted into the sitting-room
with terror in her round freckled face:

"If you please, miss," she screamed, "your tiger has arrove."

"Good heavens!" cried Robert, rushing to the door with his half-filled
teacup in his hand. "This is too much. Here is an iron cage on a trolly
with a great ramping tiger, and the whole village with their mouths
open."

"Mad as a hatter!" shrieked old Mr. McIntyre. "I could see it in his
eye. He spent enough on this beast to start me in business.
Whoever heard of such a thing