e he was overwhelmed by excited descriptions of the
wonders that had been found in the old chest.

As he and Blanche were leaving, Mr. Forester remarked, "Our fellows had
a bit of a brush with a man the other night," with a meaning look at
Marjory; "but he managed to give them the slip somehow, and made off,
the thieving rascal."

Marjory coloured, but said nothing, and the doctor remarked cheerfully,
"Well, well, he'll live to fight another day."

"Yes, and to poach too," said Mr. Forester good-humouredly. "I begin to
think that Hunters' Brae favours these fellows," he called over his
shoulder as he left the house with Blanche and Alan.

"Perhaps he's right--eh, Marjory?" asked the doctor in a bantering tone
as he shut the door.

"He _wasn't_ a poacher," declared Marjory stoutly; and then, realizing
what a slip she had made, she bit her lip and coloured again.

"Oh, ho! then there _was_ a man," said her uncle quickly. "The cat's out
of the bag now. Ah, Marjory, there's no mistaking you for anything but
a Hunter; it's in the blood, my dear. Good-night." And he went laughing
to his study.

Marjory was very grateful to her uncle for his trust in her with regard
to her escapade, and felt much relieved that even to-night, when the
subject was revived by Mr. Forester, he had not questioned her. It made
her feel that she could never wish to deceive him or to abuse his
confidence.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE PROPHECIES.

"According to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings."

SHAKESPEARE.

Marjory went to bed with a glow of happiness in her heart. Her uncle had
called her a true Hunter. How often had she brooded over those looks of
hers, which could not be said to resemble in any feature those of the
Hunters whose portraits hung on the walls of the old house! How many
times had she wished herself a boy who could carry out the traditions of
the family! Foolish troubles these were, no doubt, but they were real
enough to the lonely child, living with her own fancies for company.
True, she had not thought about them so much of late; but although they
were not uppermost in her mind, they were still there. And now those
words of the doctor's brought comfort for the memory of many a lonely
wakeful hour, when Marjory should have been sleeping the untroubled
sleep of childhood. A true Hunter!--in spite of that unknown father,
perhaps long dead; in spite of her ignorance; in spite of her looks. A
true Hunter! How he