spoke; and the log flared and crackled in return,
till the tutor's face shone like his own. He had no other means of
reply.

The tutor was grotesque-looking at any time. He was lank and meagre,
with a long body and limbs, and high shoulders. His face was
smooth-shaven, and his skin like old parchment stretched over high
cheek-bones and lantern jaws; but in their hollow sockets his eyes
gleamed with the changeful lustre of two precious gems. In the ruddy
firelight they were like rubies, and when he drew back into the shade
they glared green like the eyes of a cat. It must not be inferred from
the tutor's presence this evening that there were no Christmas holidays
in this house. They had begun some days before; and if the tutor had
had a home to go to, it is to be presumed that he would have gone.

As the candles got lower, and the log flared less often, weird lights
and shades, such as haunt the twilight, crept about the room. The
tutor's shadow, longer, lanker, and more grotesque than himself, mopped
and mowed upon the wall beside him. The snapdragon burnt blue, and as
the raisin-hunters stirred the flaming spirit, the ghastly light made
the tutor look so hideous that the widow's little boy was on the eve of
howling, and spilled the raisins he had just secured. (He did not like
putting his fingers into the flames, but he hovered near the more
adventurous school-boys and collected the raisins that were scattered
on the table by the hasty _grabs_ of braver hands.)

The widow was a relative of the house. She had married a Mr. Jones, and
having been during his life his devoted slave, had on his death
transferred her allegiance to his son. The late Mr. Jones was a small
man with a strong temper, a large appetite, and a taste for
drawing-room theatricals. So Mrs. Jones had called her son Macready;
"for," she said, "his poor papa would have made a fortune on the stage,
and I wish to commemorate his talents. Besides, Macready sounds better
with Jones than a commoner Christian name would do."

But his cousins called him MacGreedy.

"The apples of the enchanted garden were guarded by dragons. Many
knights went after them. One wished for the apples, but he did not like
to fight the dragons."

It was the tutor who spoke from the dark corner by the fire-place. His
eyes shone like a cat's, and MacGreedy felt like a half-scared mouse,
and made up his mind to cry. He put his right fist into one eye, and
had just taken it out, an