"You need not forbid me, papa," was the answer. "I should not think of it." Major Raynor was one who could not keep in anything, good or bad, especially any grievance. He went about the house, looking for Charles and Frank, that he might impart the news, and so let off a little of his superfluous anger. But he could not find either of them. Matters were going on much as usual. Daisy was progressing so far towards recovery that she could sit at the open window of her chamber and revel in the balmy air, while feasting her eyes upon the charming landscape. Charles was in a little extra trouble; for he had been written to twice upon the subject of the fifty-pound bill that was overdue. And Frank, outwardly gay as the flowers of May, was inwardly on thorns and nettles. That that mysterious personage, the Tiger, was wasting his days and hours at Grassmere on Frank Raynor's account, Frank felt persuaded of. To him it seemed an indisputable fact. The man did not molest him: did not appear to take particular notice of him; he had not yet accosted him: but Frank knew that all the while he was craftily watching his movements, to see that he did not escape. It needed not a conjuror to tell him that the Tiger was the spy of Blase Pellet. The espionage was growing intolerable to Frank. And on this very day, just about the time that Sir Philip Stane was at Eagles' Nest, he flung prudence to the winds, and questioned the enemy. The Tiger had wandered as near to the house as he could, without being guilty of a positive trespass: and Frank, chancing to turn out of what was called Beech Walk, came face to face with him. It was the first time they had thus closely met. For half-a-minute they gazed at each other. The Tiger stood his ground, and quietly took from his pocket a small note-case of brown morocco leather, with the initials "C.R." stamped upon it in gilt. "Does this belong to you?" questioned the Tiger. "Not to me," replied Frank. "But I believe it belongs to my cousin, Mr. Raynor. "I picked it up a few minutes ago as I was strolling along. Perhaps you will be so good us to give it to its owner." Frank took the case from the Tiger, and thanked him. Even to this man, suspecting him as he did for a despicable spy, he could only be courteous. And, indeed, but for this suspicion, Frank would rather have liked the man's face, now he saw it closely; the thought passed through his mind that, for a Tiger, he was a civilized one. There was a tone of pleasant freedom in the voice; the dark grey eyes, gazing steadily into Frank's, were earnest and good. "You come from Trennach," said Frank suddenly, speaking upon impulse. "From Trennach?" repeated the stranger, vaguely, and evincing no surprise. "Or from some one there," continued Frank. "Employed by him to--to look after his villainous interests here." "I am my own employer, young man." "What is your name, pray?"