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.
Her energetic intervention had saved many a rouble from
dissipating itself in tips in some Moscow hotel, and francs and
centimes clung to her instinctively under circumstances which
would have driven them headlong from less sympathetic hands. Her
speculations as to the market depreciation of tiger remnants were
cut short by the appearance on the scene of the animal itself. As
soon as it caught sight of the tethered goat it lay flat on the
earth, seemingly less from a desire to take advantage of all
available cover than for the purpose of snatching a short rest
before commencing the grand attack.
"I believe it's ill," said Louisa Mebbin, loudly in Hindustani,
for the benefit of the village headman, who was in ambush in a
neighbouring tree.
"Hush!" said Mrs. Packletide, and at that moment the tiger
commenced ambling towards his victim.
"Now, now!" urged Miss Mebbin with some excitement; "if he doesn't
touch the goat we needn't pay for it." (The bait was an extra.)
The rifle flashed out with a loud report, and the great tawny
beast sprang to one side and then rolled over in the stillness of
death.
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