with elaborate carelessness to keep him satisfied with his present
quarters. The one great anxiety was lest he should die of old age
before the date appointed for the memsahib's shoot. Mothers
carrying their babies home through the jungle after the day's work
in the fields hushed their singing lest they might curtail the
restful sleep of the venerable herd-robber.

The great night duly arrived, moonlit and cloudless. A platform
had been constructed in a comfortable and conveniently placed
tree, and thereon crouched Mrs. Packletide and her paid companion,
Miss Mebbin. A goat, gifted with a particularly persistent bleat,
such as even a partially deaf tiger might be reasonably expected
to hear on a still night, was tethered at the correct distance.
With an accurately sighted rifle and a thumbnail pack of patience
cards the sportswoman awaited the coming of the quarry.

"I suppose we are in some danger?" said Miss Mebbin.

She was not actually nervous about the wild beast, but she had a
morbid dread of performing an atom more service than she had been
paid for.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Packletide; "it's a very old tiger. It
couldn't spring up here even if it wanted to."

"If it's an old tiger I think you ought to get it cheaper. A
thousand rupees is a lot of money."

Louisa Mebbin adopted a protective elder-sister attitude towards
money in general, irrespective of nationality or denomination.