CHAPTER I
PAGE
The Beginning[1]
CHAPTER II
The Manor House[13]
CHAPTER III
The Wonderful Garden[34]
CHAPTER IV
In Thessalonians[50]
CHAPTER V
The Midnight Adventure[67]
CHAPTER VI
Hunted[83]
CHAPTER VII
Being Detectives[98]
CHAPTER VIII
The Heroine[119]
CHAPTER IX
The Morning After[132]
CHAPTER X
Brewing the Spell[152]
CHAPTER XI
The Rosicurians[175]
CHAPTER XII
The Other Book[191]
CHAPTER XIII
The Rosy Cure[209]
CHAPTER XIV
The Mineral Woman[222]
CHAPTER XV
Justice[244]
CHAPTER XVI
The Appeal to Cæsar[259]
CHAPTER XVII
The Le-o-pard[282]
CHAPTER XVIII
The Leopard’s-Bane[298]
CHAPTER XIX
F. of H.D.[319]
CHAPTER XX
The Waxen Man[340]
CHAPTER XXI
The Atonement of Rupert[355]
CHAPTER XXII
The Portrait[370]
CHAPTER XXIII
The End[386]

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE
And through it, in trailing velvet, came a lady[Frontispiece]
There was a good deal of whispered talk and mystery[15]
‘You sit next him, Charles’[19]
‘They burned her for a witch’[31]
‘How beautifully everything grows here’[43]
Of course they all liked to try[55]
A hand was raised[65]
‘Just remember we’re yours to the death’[81]
I believed you—without that,’ said Charlotte[93]
They were the footprints, beyond any doubt, of a boy[111]
‘Fetches him a bite of something’[127]
‘If I whistle, you lay low’[141]
Showed her a green parrot sitting on a nest[155]
He screwed up his nose[165]
‘It’s a Nihilist bomb, come away!’[187]
Rupert rolled into bed[205]
He looked over his head as though Rupert had not been there[229]
‘I can’t attend to you. Go away!’[237]
Found the broken paling and slipped through[261]
Rupert was bundled into the body of the car[277]
Something four-footed, spotted, furry, creeping along the passage[299]
‘It’s me; it’s Rupert,’ he shouted[313]
Charles had his first swimming lesson[321]
Nothing much happened except smoke[349]
Charlotte found a thin black-coated shoulder a very good place to cry on[365]
‘Take your last look,’ he said[379]

CHAPTER I
THE BEGINNING

It was Caroline’s birthday, and she had had some very pleasant presents. There was a blotting-book of blue leather (at least, it looked like leather), with pink and purple roses painted on it, from her younger sister Charlotte; and a paint-box—from her brother Charles—as good as new.

‘I’ve hardly used it at all,’ he said, ‘and it’s much nicer than anything I could have bought you with my own money, and I’ve wiped all the paints clean.’