As he left Oxford by an early morning train on his way home, his thoughts were busy with what had passed. For one thing, he found that his days of torment at Eagles' Nest, when he went about in fear of writs and arrest, had been without foundation. With the exception of Mr. Huddles—and that was much later—not a single creditor, as all assured him, had followed him there: neither had any of them written to him, excepting the one whose letter had by misadventure fallen into the hands of Major Raynor. Who then was the Tiger, Charles asked himself. Could it be that, after all, the man had positively held no mission that concerned him? It might be so: and that Charles had dreaded and hated him for nothing. The Tiger had left Grassmere now, as Charles happened to know. Jetty had said so the other day when he was at Eagles' Nest. To return sometime Jetty believed, for the gentleman had said as much to his sister Esther when leaving: he liked

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