120 NEIGHBOURS UNKNOWN 



Therefore a wise city dweller had appro- 

 priated the sea waif, and built his summer 

 home thereon, where the tonic airs might 

 bring back the rose to the pale cheeks of his 

 children. 



The family came to the island towards the 

 end of June. In the first week of September 

 they went away, leaving every door and 

 window of house and shed securely shuttered, 

 bolted or barred, against the winter's storms. 

 A roomy boat, rowed by two fishermen, 

 carried them across the half mile of racing 

 tides that separated them from the mainland. 

 The elders of the household were not sorry 

 to get back to the distractions of the world 

 of men, after two months of the companion- 

 ship of wind and sun and waves and waving 

 grass-tops. But the children went with 

 tear-stained faces. They were leaving behind 

 them their household pet, the invariable 

 comrade of their migrations, a handsome 

 moon-faced cat, striped like a tiger. The 

 animal had disappeared two days before, 

 vanishing mysteriously from the naked face 

 of the island. The only reasonable explana- 

 tion seemed to be that she had been snapped 

 up by a passing eagle. 



The cat, meanwhile, was fast prisoner at 

 the other end of the island, hidden beneath 



