Tobermory's corpse was brought in from the shrubbery, where a
gardener had just discovered it. From the bites on his throat and
the yellow fur which coated his claws it was evident that he had
fallen in unequal combat with the big Tom from the Rectory.

By midday most of the guests had quitted the Towers, and after
lunch Lady Blemley had sufficiently recovered her spirits to write
an extremely nasty letter to the Rectory about the loss of her
valuable pet.

Tobermory had been Appin's one successful pupil, and he was
destined to have no successor. A few weeks later an elephant in
the Dresden Zoological Garden, which had shown no previous signs
of irritability, broke loose and killed an Englishman who had
apparently been teasing it. The victim's name was variously
reported in the papers as Oppin and Eppelin, but his front name
was faithfully rendered Cornelius.

"If he was trying German irregular verbs on the poor beast," said
Clovis, "he deserved all he got."




MRS. PACKLETIDE'S TIGER



It was Mrs. Packletide's pleasure and intention that she should
shoot a tiger. Not that the lust to kill had suddenly descended