tentment and goat, sat washing her face beside her cottage door. For the first time in his life the travelling M.P.'s tongue failed him, and he stood as though turned to stone. Then, when Lucy sat up, yawned, hiccoughed, and put her paw up to her mouth as who should say 'Excuse me,' he turned and fled for his life, and then said it was for his gun. . . .
"There was dirty work at the cross-roads that night.
"The Simple Villagers built a machan overlooking the path from Lucy's cave, and, as soon as Lucy was safely off for her night's stroll, the shikari took the good M.P. to sit upon it and consort with mosquitoes, while he watched for the horrible Scourge. Nearly all night he sat, and had just gone to sleep when the shikari, who was sitting behind him, heard the sounds he had been waiting for. A minute later, he saw what he had been watching for and gently shook his sleeping employer.
"‘Look, ' he whispered and pointed. The good Traveller rubbed his eyes and looked. There, sure enough, beneath a tree a few yards away,
