Dr. Hunter did not appear until Mr. Forester came to fetch Blanche; but when he did come he was overwhelmed by excited descriptions of the wonders that had been found in the old chest.
As he and Blanche were leaving, Mr. Forester remarked, "Our fellows had a bit of a brush with a man the other night," with a meaning look at Marjory; "but he managed to give them the slip somehow, and made off, the thieving rascal."
Marjory coloured, but said nothing, and the doctor remarked cheerfully, "Well, well, he'll live to fight another day."
"Yes, and to poach too," said Mr. Forester good-humouredly. "I begin to think that Hunters' Brae favours these fellows," he called over his shoulder as he left the house with Blanche and Alan.
"Perhaps he's right—eh, Marjory?" asked the doctor in a bantering tone as he shut the door.
"He wasn't a poacher," declared Marjory stoutly; and then, realizing what a slip she had made, she bit her lip and coloured again.
"Oh, ho! then there was a man," said her uncle quickly. "The cat's out of the bag now. Ah, Marjory, there's no mistaking you for anything but a Hunter; it's in the blood, my dear. Good-night." And he went laughing to his study.
Marjory was very grateful to her uncle for his trust in her with regard to her escapade, and felt much relieved that even to-night, when the subject was revived by Mr. Forester, he had not questioned her. It made her feel that she could never wish to deceive him or to abuse his confidence.