“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.”