This was the kind of morning on which Nemestronia would have many visitors, the kind of weather which would tempt them to have their chairs out on the upper terrace, the hour of the morning at which they would be most likely to be out there.

The leopard, I instantly inferred, was stalking, not some hare, porker, kid or lamb, but her owner and her owner's guests.
I disembarrassed myself of my outer garments, threw off my sun-hat, and, clad only in my shoes and tunic, sprinted for the door into the wild- garden, through it, through its upper door, which, as I had forecasted, I found open, and out on the lower terrace.

From there I could not see anything on the upper terrace, but, as I cleared the door, I heard again, rising, quavering, sinking, rising, the leopard's hunting cry from the upper terrace.

I sprang up the stair to the middle terrace, and half way up that to the upper; but, when my head was about on a level with the pavement of the walk along the upper terrace, I checked myself and moved a hairs-breadth at a time; for the rescue on which I had come was a delicate task and any quick movement might precipitate the leopard's killing- spring.
Through the spaces between the yellow Numidian marble balusters I saw what I had anticipated.

Partly under the big middle awning, but mostly out in front of it on the walk, were set a score of light chairs.