THE SECRET PASSAGE

by

Fergus Hume

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. THE COTTAGE II. THE CRIME III. A MYSTERIOUS DEATH IV. DETAILS V. LORD CARANBY'S ROMANCE VI. A PERPLEXING CASE VII. THE DETECTIVE VIII. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE IX. ANOTHER MYSTERY X. THE PARLOR-MAID'S STORY XI. ON THE TRACK XII. JENNINGS ASKS QUESTIONS XIII. JULIET AT BAY XIV. MRS. OCTAGON EXPLAINS XV. A DANGEROUS ADMISSION XVI. JULIET'S STORY XVII. JULIET'S STORY CONTINUED XVIII. THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS XIX. SUSAN'S DISCOVERY XX. BASIL XXI. AN EXPERIMENT XXII. THE SECRET ENTRANCE XXIII. A SCAMP'S HISTORY XXIV. REVENGE XXV. NEMESIS XXVI. CUTHBERT'S ENEMY

THE SECRET PASSAGE

CHAPTER I

THE COTTAGE

"What IS your name?"

"Susan Grant, Miss Loach. "

"Call me ma'am. I am Miss Loach only to my equals. Your age?"

"Twenty-five, ma'am. "

"Do you know your work as parlor-maid thoroughly?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was two years in one place and six months in another, ma'am. Here are my characters from both places, ma'am. "

As the girl spoke she laid two papers before the sharp old lady whoquestioned her. But Miss Loach did not look at them immediately. Sheexamined the applicant with such close attention that a faint colortinted the girl's cheeks and she dropped her eyes. But, in her turn, by stealthy glances, Susan Grant tactfully managed to acquaint herselfwith the looks of her possible mistress. The thoughts of each womanran as follows, --

Miss Loach to herself. "Humph! Plain-looking, sallow skin, ratherfine eyes and a slack mouth. Not badly dressed for a servant, anddisplays some taste. She might turn my old dresses at a pinch. Sadexpression, as though she had something on her mind. Honest-looking, but I think a trifle inquisitive, seeing how she examined the room andis stealing glances at me. Talks sufficiently, but in a low voice. Fairly intelligent, but not too much so. Might be secretive. Humph!"

The thoughts of Susan Grant. "Handsome old lady, probably nearlysixty. Funny dress for ten o'clock in the morning. She must be rich, to wear purple silk and old lace and lovely rings at this hour. A hardmouth, thin nose, very white hair and very black eyebrows. Got atemper I should say, and is likely to prove an exacting mistress. ButI want a quiet home, and the salary is good. I'll try it, if she'lltake me. "

Had either mistress or maid known of each other's thoughts, aconclusion to do business might not have been arrived at. As it was, Miss Loach, after a few more questions, appeared satisfied. All thetime she kept a pair of very black eyes piercingly fixed on the girl'sface, as though she would read her very soul. But Susan had nothing toconceal, so far as Miss Loach could gather, so in the end she resolvedto engage her. 

"I think you'll do, " she said nodding, and poking up the fire, with ashiver, although the month was June. "The situation is a quiet one. Ihope you have no followers. "

"No, ma'am, " said Susan and flushed crimson. 

"Ha!" thought Miss Loach, "she has been in love--jilted probably. Allthe better, as she won't bring any young men about my quiet house. "

"Will you not read my characters, ma'am?"

Miss Loach pushed the two papers towards the applicant. "I judge formyself, " said she calmly. "Most characters I read are full of lies. Your looks are enough for me. Where were you last?"

"With a Spanish lady, ma'am!"

"A Spanish lady!" Miss Loach dropped the poker she was holding, with aclatter, and frowned so deeply that her black eyebrows met over herhigh nose. "And her name?"

"Senora Gredos, ma'am!"

The eyes of the old maid glittered, and she made a clutch at her breastas though the reply had taken away her breath. "Why did you leave?" sheasked, regaining her composure. 

Susan looked uncomfortable. "I thought the house was too gay, ma'am. "

"What do you mean by that? Can any house be too gay for a girl of youryears?"

"I have been well brought up, ma'am, " said Susan quietly; "and myreligious principles are dear to me. Although she is an invalid, ma'am, Senora Gredos was very gay. Many people came to her house andplayed cards, even on Sunday, " added Susan under her breath. But lowas she spoke, Miss Loach heard. 

"I have whist parties here frequently, " she said drily; "nearly everyevening four friends of mine call to play. Have you any objection toenter my service on that account?"

"Oh, no, ma'am. I don't mind a game of cards. I play 'Patience'myself when alone. I mean gambling--there was a lot of money lost andwon at Senora Gredos' house!"

"Yet she is an invalid I think you said?"

"Yes, ma'am. She was a dancer, I believe, and fell in some way, so asto break her leg or hurt her back. She has been lying on a couch fortwo years unable to move. Yet she has herself wheeled into thedrawing-room and watches the gentlemen play cards. She plays herselfsometimes!"

Miss Loach again directed one of her piercing looks at the pale face ofthe girl. "You are too inquisitive and too talkative, " she saidsuddenly, "therefore you won't suit me. Good-day. "

Susan was quite taken aback. "Oh, ma'am, I hope I've said nothingwrong. I only answered your questions. "

"You evidently take note of everything you see, and talk about it. "

"No, ma'am, " said the girl earnestly. "I really hold my tongue. "

"When it suits you, " retorted Miss Loach. "Hold it now and let methink!"

While Miss Loach, staring frowningly into the fire, debated inwardly asto the advisability of engaging the girl, Susan looked timidly roundthe room. Curiously enough, it was placed in the basement of thecottage, and was therefore below the level of the garden. Two fairlylarge windows looked on to the area, which had been roofed with glassand turned into a conservatory. Here appeared scarlet geraniums andother bright-hued flowers, interspersed with ferns and delicategrasses. Owing to the position of the room and the presence of theglass roof, only a subdued light filtered into the place, but, as theday was brilliant with sunshine, the apartment was fairly wellilluminated. Still, on a cloudy day, Susan could imagine how dull itwould be. In winter time the room must be perfectly dark. 

It was luxuriously furnished, in red and gold. The carpet and curtainswere of bright scarlet, threaded with gold. The furniture, strangelyenough, was of white polished wood upholstered in crimson satin fringedwith gold. There were many pictures in large gilded frames and manymirrors similarly encircled with gilded wood. The grate, fender andfire-irons were of polished brass, and round the walls were numerouselectric lamps with yellow shades. The whole room represented abizarre appearance, flamboyant and rather tropical in looks. Apparently Miss Loach was fond of vivid colors. There was no piano, nor were there books or papers, and the only evidence as to how MissLoach passed her time revealed itself in a work-basket and a pack ofcards. Yet, at her age, Susan thought that needlework would be rathertrying, even though she wore no glasses and her eyes seemed bright andkeen. She was an odd old lady and appeared to be rich. "I'll engageyou, " said Miss Loach abruptly; "get your box and be here before fiveo'clock this afternoon. I am expecting some friends at eight o'clock. You must be ready to admit them. Now go!"

"But, ma'am, I--"

"In this house, " interrupted Miss Loach imperiously, "no one speaks tome, unless spoken to by me. You understand!"

"Yes, ma'am, " replied Susan timidly, and obeyed the finger whichpointed to the door. Miss Loach listened to the girl's footsteps onthe stairs, and sat down when she heard the front door close. But shewas up again almost in a moment and pacing the room. Apparently theconversation with Susan Grant afforded her food for reflection. Andnot very palatable food either, judging from her expression. 

The newly-engaged servant returned that same afternoon to the suburbanstation, which tapped the district of Rexton. A trunk, a bandbox and abag formed her humble belongings, and she arranged with a porter thatthese should be wheeled in a barrow to Rose Cottage, as Miss Loach'sabode was primly called. Having come to terms, Susan left the stationand set out to walk to the place. Apart from the fact that she saved acab fare, she wished to obtain some idea of her surroundings, andtherefore did not hurry herself. 

It was a bright June day with a warm green earth basking under a blueand cloudless sky. But even the sunshine could not render Rextonbeautiful. It stretched out on all sides from the station new and raw. The roads were finished, with asphalt footpaths and stone curbing, thelamp-posts had apparently only been lately erected, and lines of whitefences divided the roads from gardens yet in their infancy. Frontingthese were damp-looking red brick villas, belonging to small clerks andpetty tradesmen. Down one street was a row of shops filled with thenecessaries of civilization; and round the corner, an aggressively newchurch of yellow brick with a tin roof and a wooden steeple stood inthe middle of an untilled space. At the end of one street a glimpsecould be caught of the waste country beyond, not yet claimed by theferry-builder. A railway embankment bulked against the horizon, andclosed the view in an unsightly manner. Rexton was as ugly as it wasnew. 

Losing her way, Susan came to the ragged fringe of country environingthe new suburb, and paused there, to take in her surroundings. Acrossthe fields to the left she saw an unfinished mansion, large andstately, rising amidst a forest of pines. This was girdled by a highbrick wall which looked older than the suburb itself. Remembering thatshe had seen this house behind the cottage of Miss Loach, the girl usedit as a landmark, and turning down a side street managed to find thetop of a crooked lane at the bottom of which Rose Cottage was situated. This lane showed by its very crookedness that it belonged to theancient civilization of the district. Here were no paths, no lamps, noaggressively new fences and raw brick houses. Susan, stepping down theslight incline, passed into quite an old world, smacking of theGeorgian times, leisurely and quaint. On either side of the lane, old-fashioned cottages, with whitewash walls and thatched roofs, stoodamidst gardens filled with unclipped greenery and homely flowers. Quickset hedges, ragged and untrimmed, divided these from the roadway, and to add to the rural look one garden possessed straw bee-hives. Here and there rose ancient elm-trees and grass grew in the roadway. It was a blind lane and terminated in a hedge, which bordered a fieldof corn. To the left was a narrow path running between hedges past thecottages and into the country. 

Miss Loach's house was a mixture of old and new. Formerly it had beenan unpretentious cottage like the others, but she had added a new wingof red brick built in the most approved style of the jerry-builder, andlooking like the villas in the more modern parts of Rexton. Thecrabbed age and the uncultured youth of the old and new portions, planted together cheek by jowl, appeared like ill-coupled clogs andquite out of harmony. The thatched and tiled roofs did not seem meetneighbors, and the whitewash walls of the old-world cottage lookeddingy beside the glaring redness of the new villa. The front door inthe new part was reached by a flight of dazzling white steps. Fromthis, a veranda ran across the front of the cottage, its rustic postssupporting rose-trees and ivy. On the cottage side appeared an oldgarden, but the new wing was surrounded by lawns and decorated withcarpet bedding. A gravel walk divided the old from the new, andintersected the garden. At the back, Susan noted again the high brickwall surrounding the half-completed mansion. Above this rose talltrees, and the wall itself was overgrown with ivy. It apparently wasold and concealed an unfinished palace of the sleeping beauty, soragged and wild appeared the growth which peeped over the guardian wall. 

With a quickness of perception unusual in her class, Susan took allthis in, then rang the bell. There was no back door, so far as shecould see, and she thought it best to enter as she had done in themorning. But the large fat woman who opened the door gave her tounderstand that she had taken a liberty. 

"Of course this morning and before engaging, you were a lady, " said thecook, hustling the girl into the hall, "but now being the housemaid, Miss Loach won't be pleased at your touching the front bell. "

"I did not see any other entrance, " protested Susan. 

"Ah, " said the cook, leading the way down a few steps into the thatchedcottage, which, it appeared was the servants' quarters, "you lookeddown the area as is natural-like. But there ain't none, it being aconservitery!"

"Why does Miss Loach live in the basement?" asked Susan, on being showninto a comfortable room which answered the purpose of a servants' hall. 

The cook resented this question. "Ah!" said she with a snort, "and whydoes a miller wear a white 'at, Miss Grant, that being your name I takeit. Don't you ask no questions but if you must know, Miss Loach haveweak eyes and don't like glare. She lives like a rabbit in a burrow, and though the rooms on the ground floor are sich as the King mightin'abit, she don't come up often save to eat. She lives in thebasement room where you saw her, Miss Grant, and she sleeps in the roomorf. When she eats, the dining-room above is at her service. An' Idon't see why she shouldn't, " snorted the cook. 

"I don't mean any--"

"No offence being given none is taken, " interrupted cook, who seemedfond of hearing her own wheezy voice. "Emily Pill's my name, and Iain't ashamed of it, me having been cook to Miss Loach for years an'years and years. But if you had wished to behave like a servant, asyou are, " added she with emphasis, "why didn't you run round by theveranda and so get to the back where the kitchen is. But you're one ofthe new class of servants, Miss Grant, 'aughty and upsetting. "

"I know my place, " said Susan, taking off her hat. 

"And I know mine, " said Emily Pill, "me being cook and consequently themistress of this servants' 'all. An' I'm an old-fashioned servantmyself, plain in my 'abits and dress. " This with a disparaging look atthe rather smart costume of the newly-arrived housemaid. "I don't 'oldwith cockes feathers and fal-de-dals on 'umble folk myself, not butwhat I could afford 'em if I liked, being of saving 'abits and areceiver of good wages. But I'm a friendly pusson and not 'ard on agood-lookin' gal, not that you are what I call 'andsome. "

Susan seated beside the table, looked weary and forlorn, and thegood-natured heart of the cook was touched, especially when Susanrequested her to refrain from the stiff name of Miss Grant. 

"You an' me will be good friends, I've no doubt, " said Emily, "an' youcan call me Mrs. Pill, that being the name of my late 'usband, who diedof gin in excess. The other servants is housemaid and page, though tobe sure he's more of a man-of-all-work, being forty if he's a day, andlikewise coachman, when he drives out Miss Loach in her donkeycarriage. Thomas is his name, my love. " The cook was rapidly becomingmore and more friendly, "and the housemaid is called Geraldine, forwhich 'eaven forgives her parents, she bein' spotty and un'ealthy andby no means a Bow-Bell's 'eroine, which 'er name makes you think of. But there's a dear, I'm talking brilliant, when you're dying for a cupof tea, and need to get your box unpacked, by which I mean that I seesthe porter with the barrer. "

The newly-arrived parlor-maid was pleased by this friendly ifungrammatical reception, and thought she would like the cook in spiteof her somewhat tiresome tongue. For the next hour she was unpackingher box and arranging a pleasant little room at the back. She sharedthis with the spotty Geraldine, who seemed to be a good-natured girl. Apparently Miss Loach looked after her servants and made themcomfortable. Thomas proved to be amiable if somewhat stupid, andwelcomed Susan to tea affably but with sheepish looks. As the servantsseemed pleasant, the house comfortable, and as the salary wasexcellent, Susan concluded that she had--as the saying is--fallen onher feet. 

The quartette had tea in the servants' hall, and there was plenty ofwell-cooked if plain victuals. Miss Loach dined at half-past six andSusan assumed her dress and cap. She laid the table in a handsomedining-room, equally as garish in color as the apartment below. Thetable appointments were elegant, and Mrs. Pill served a nice littlemeal to which Miss Loach did full justice. She wore the same purpledress, but with the addition of more jewellery. Her sharp eyesfollowed Susan about the room as she waited, and at the end of thedinner she made her first observation. "You know your work I see, " shesaid. "I hope you will be happy here!"

"I think I will, ma'am, " said Susan, with a faint sigh. 

"You have had trouble?" asked Miss Loach quickly. 

"Yes, ma'am!"

"You must tell me about it to-morrow, " said the old lady rising. "Ilike to gain the confidence of my servants. Now bring my coffee to theroom below. At eight, three people will arrive--a lady and twogentlemen. You will show them into the sitting-room and put out thecard-table. Then you can go to the kitchen and wait till I ring. Besure you don't come till I do ring, " and Miss Loach emphasized thislast order with a flash of her brilliant eyes. 

Susan took the coffee to the sitting-room in the basement and thencleared the table. Shortly before eight o'clock there was a ring atthe front door. She opened it to a tall lady, with gray hair, wholeaned on an ebony cane. With her were two men, one a rather roughfoolish-looking fellow, and the other tall, dark, and well-dressed inan evening suit. A carriage was just driving away from the gate. Asthe tall lady entered, a breath of strong perfume saluted Susan'snostrils. The girl started and peered into the visitor's face. Whenshe returned to the kitchen her own was as white as chalk. 

CHAPTER II

THE CRIME

The kitchen was rather spacious, and as neat and clean as the busyhands of Mrs. Pill could make it. An excellent range polished toexcess occupied one end of the room; a dresser with blue and whitechina adorned the other. On the outside wall copper pots and pans, glittering redly in the firelight, were ranged in a shining row. Opposite this wall, a door led into the interior of the house, and init was the outer entrance. A large deal table stood in the center ofthe room, and at this with their chairs drawn up, Geraldine and thecook worked. The former was trimming a picture-hat of the cheapest andmost flamboyant style, and the latter darned a coarse white stockingintended for her own use. By the fire sat Thomas, fair-haired andstupid in looks, who read tit-bits from the Daily Mail for thedelectation of Mrs. Pill and Geraldine. 

"Gracious 'eavens, Susan, " cried the cook, when Susan returned, afteradmitting the visitors, "whatever's come to you?"

"I've had a turn, " said Susan faintly, sitting by the fire and rubbingher white cheeks. 

At once Mrs. Pill was alive with curiosity. She questioned the newparlor-maid closely, but was unable to extract information. Susansimply said that she had a weak heart, and set down her wan appearanceto the heat. "An' on that accounts you sits by the fire, " said Mrs. Pill scathingly. "You're one of the secret ones you are. Well, itain't no business of mine, thank 'eaven, me being above board ineverythink. I 'spose the usual lot arrived, Susan?"

"Two gentlemen and a lady, " replied Susan, glad to see that the cooksthoughts were turning in another direction. 

"Gentlemen!" snorted Mrs. Pill, "that Clancy one ain't. Why the missusshould hobnob with sich as he, I don't know nohow. "

"Ah, but the other's a real masher, " chimed in Geraldine, looking upfrom her millinery; "such black eyes, that go through you like agimlet, and such a lovely moustache. He dresses elegant too. "

"Being Miss Loach's lawyer, he have a right to dress well, " said Mrs. Pill, rubbing her nose with the stocking, "and Mr. Clancy, I thinks, issomeone Mr. Jarvey Hale's helpin', he being good and kind. "

Here Geraldine gave unexpected information. 

"He's a client of Mr. Hale's, " she said indistinctly, with her mouthfull of pins, "and has come in for a lot of money. Mr. Hale'sintroducing him into good society, to make a gent of him. "

"Silk purses can't be made out of sows' ears, " growled the cook, "an'who told you all this Geraldine?"

"Miss Loach herself, at different times. "

Susan thought it was strange that a lady should gossip to this extentwith her housemaid, but she did not take much interest in theconversation, being occupied with her own sad thoughts. But the nextremark of Geraldine made her start. "Mr. Clancy's father was acarpenter, " said the girl. 

"My father was a carpenter, " remarked Susan, sadly. 

"Ah, " cried Mrs. Pill with alacrity, "now you're speaking sense. Ain'the alive?"

"No. He was poisoned!"

The three servants, having the love of horrors peculiar to the lowerclasses, looked up with interest. "Lor!" said Thomas, speaking for thefirst time and in a thick voice, "who poisoned him?"

"No one knows. He died five years ago, and left mother with me andfour little brothers to bring up. They're all doing well now, though, and I help mother, as they do. They didn't want me to go out toservice, you know, " added Susan, warming on finding sympatheticlisteners. "I could have stopped at home with mother in Stepney, but Idid not want to be idle, and took a situation with a widow lady atHampstead. I stopped there a year. Then she died and I went asparlor-maid to a Senora Gredos. I was only there six months, " and shesighed. 

"Why did you leave?" asked Geraldine. 

Susan grew red. "I wished for a change, " she said curtly. 

But the housemaid did not believe her. She was a sharp girl and herfeelings were not refined. "It's just like these men--"

"I said nothing about men, " interrupted Susan, sharply. 

"Well, then, a man. You've been in love, Susan, and--"

"No. I am not in love, " and Susan colored more than ever. 

"Why, it's as plain as cook that you are, now, " tittered Geraldine. 

"Hold your noise and leave the gal be, " said Mrs. Pill, offended by theallusion to her looks, "if she's in love she ain't married, and no moreshe ought to be; if she'd had a husband like mine, who drank every dayin the week and lived on my earnings. He's dead now, an' I gave 'im a'andsome tombstone with the text: 'Go thou and do likewise' on it, being a short remark, lead letterin' being expensive. Ah well, as Iallays say, 'Flesh is grass with us all. '"

While the cook maundered on Thomas sat with his dull eyes fixed on theflushed face of Susan. "What about the poisoning?" he demanded. 

"It was this way, " said Susan. "Father was working at some house inthese parts--"

"What! Down here?"

"Yes, at Rexton, which was then just rising into notice as a place forgentlefolks. He had just finished with a house when he came home oneday with his wages. He was taken ill and died. The doctor said he hadtaken poison, and he died of it. Arsenic it was, " explained Susan toher horrified audience. 

"But why did he poison himself?" asked Geraldine. 

"I don't know: no one knew. He was gettin' good wages, and said hewould make us all rich. "

"Ah, " chimed in Thomas suddenly, "in what way, Susan?"

"He had a scheme to make our fortunes. What it was, I don't know. Buthe said he would soon be worth plenty of money. Mother thought someonemust have poisoned him, but she could not find out. As we had a lot oftrouble then, it was thought father had killed himself to escape it, but I know better. If he had lived, we should have been rich. He wason an extra job down here, " she ended. 

"What was the extra job?" asked Thomas curiously. 

Susan shook her head. "Mother never found out. She went to the househe worked on, which is near the station. They said father always wentaway for three hours every afternoon by an arrangement with theforeman. Where he went, no one knew. He came straight from this extrajob home and died of poison. Mother thought, " added Susan, lookinground cautiously, "that someone must have had a wish to get rid offather, he knowing too much. "

"Too much of what, my gal?" asked Mrs. Pill, with open mouth. 

"Ah! That's what I'd like to find out, " said Susan garrulously, "butnothing was ever known, and father was buried as a suicide. Thenmother, having me and my four brothers, married again, and I took thename of her new husband. "

"Then your name ain't really Grant?" asked Geraldine. 

"No! It's Maxwell, father being Scotch and a clever workman. SusanMaxwell is my name, but after the suicide--if it was one--mother feltthe disgrace so, that she made us all call ourselves Grant. So SusanGrant I am, and my brothers of the old family are Grant also. "

"What do you mean by the old family?"

"Mother has three children by her second husband, and that's the newfamily, " explained Susan, "but we are all Grants, though me and my fourbrothers are really Maxwells. But there, " she said, looking roundquietly and rather pleased at the interest with which she was regarded, "I've told you a lot. Tell me something!"

Mrs. Pill was unwilling to leave the fascinating subject of suicide, but her desire to talk got the better of her, and she launched into along account of her married life. It seemed she had buried the lateMr. Pill ten years before, and since that time had been with Miss Loachas cook. She had saved money and could leave service at once, if sheso chose. "But I should never be happy out of my kitchen, my love, "said Mrs. Pill, biting a piece of darning-cotton, "so here I stay tillmissus goes under. "

"And she won't do that for a long time, " said Thomas. "Missus isstrong. A good, kind, healthy lady. "

Geraldine followed with an account of herself, which related chiefly toher good looks and many lovers, and the tyranny of mistresses. "I willsay, however, that after being here a year, I have nothing to complainof. "

"I should think not, " grunted Thomas. "I've been twenty years withMiss Loach, and a good 'un she is. I entered her service when I wasfifteen, and she could have married an earl--Lord Caranby wanted tomarry her--but she wouldn't. "

"Lor, " said Mrs. Pill, "and ain't that his lordship's nephew who comeshere at times?"

"Mr. Mallow? Yes! That's him. He's fond of the old lady. "

"And fond of her niece, too, " giggled Geraldine; "not but what MissSaxon is rather sweet. "

"Rather sweet, " growled the cook, "why, she's a lovely gal, sich asyou'll never be, in spite of your fine name. An' her brother, Mr. Basil, is near as 'andsome as she. "

"He ain't got the go about him Miss Juliet have, " said Thomas. 

"A lot you know, " was the cook's retort. "Why Mr. Basil quarrelledwith missus a week ago and gave her proper, and missus ain't no easyperson to fight with, as I knows. Mr. Basil left the house and ain'tbeen near since. "

"He's a fool, then, " said Thomas. "Missus won't leave him a penny. "

"She'll leave it to Miss Juliet Saxon, which is just the same. I neverdid see brother and sister so fond of one another as those two. Ibelieve she'd put the 'air of 'er head--and lovely 'air it is, too--under his blessed feet to show him she loves him. "

"She'd do the same by Mr. Mallow, " said Geraldine, tittering. 

Here Susan interrupted. "Who is the old lady who comes here?"

"Oh, she's Mrs. Herne, " said the cook. "A cross, 'aughty old thing, who fights always. She's been coming here with Mr. Jarvey Hale and Mr. Clancy for the last three years. They play whist every evening and goaway regular about ten. Missus let's 'em out themselves or else ringsfor me. Why, there's the bell now, " and Mrs. Pill rose. 

"No! I go, " said Susan, rising also. "Miss Loach told me to come whenshe rang. "

Mrs. Pill nodded and resumed her seat and her darning. "Lor bless you, my love, I ain't jealous, " she said. "My legs ain't as young as theywas. 'Urry, my dear, missus is a bad 'un to be kept waitin'. "

Thus urged, Susan hastened to the front part of the house and down thestairs. The door of the sitting-room was open. She knocked andentered, to find Mr. Clancy, who looked rougher and more foolish thanever, standing by the table. Miss Loach, with a pack of cards on herlap, was talking, and Susan heard the concluding sentence as sheentered the room. 

"You're a fool, Clancy, " said Miss Loach, emphatically. "You know Mrs. Herne doesn't like to be contradicted. You've sent her away in a finerage, and she's taken Hale with her. Quite spoilt our game of--ah, here's Susan. Off with you, Clancy. I wish to be alone. "

The man would have spoken, but Miss Loach silenced him with a sharpgesture and pointed to the door. In silence he went upstairs withSusan, and in silence left the house. It was a fine night, and Susanstopped for a moment at the door to drink in the fresh air. She heardthe heavy footsteps of a policeman draw near and he passed the house, to disappear into the path on the opposite side of the road. WhenSusan returned to the kitchen she found supper ready. Soon theservants were seated at the table and talking brightly. 

"Who does that house at the back belong to?" asked Susan. 

"To Lord Caranby, " said Thomas, although not directly addressed. "It'sunfinished. "

"Yes and shut up. Lord Caranby was in love with a lady and built thathouse for her. Before it was ready the lady died and Lord Caranby leftthe house as it was and built a high wall round it. He then wenttravelling and has been travelling ever since. He never marriedeither, and his nephew, Mr. Cuthbert Mallow, is heir to the title. "

"I thought you said Lord Caranby loved Miss Loach?"

"No, I didn't. I said she could have married him had she played hercards properly. But she didn't, and Lord Caranby went away. The ladywho died was a friend of missus, and they were always together. Ithink missus and she were jealous of Lord Caranby, both loving him. But Miss Saul--that was the other lady--died, and Lord Caranby left thehouse as it stands, to go away. "

"He won't allow anyone to set a foot in the house or grounds, " saidMrs. Pill, "there ain't no gate in the wall--"

"No gate, " echoed Susan astonished. 

"Not a single 'ole as you could get a cat through. Round and round theplace that fifteen-feet wall is built, and the park, as they calls it, is running as wild as a cow. Not a soul has set foot in that place forthe last fifteen years. But I expect when Mr. Mallow comes in for thetitle he'll pull it down and build 'ouses. I'm sure he ought to: it'sa shame seeing land wasted like that. "

"Where is Lord Caranby now?"

"He lives in London and never comes near this place, " said Thomas. 

"Is Miss Loach friendly with him now?" "No, she ain't. He treated herbadly. She'd have been a better Lady Caranby than Miss Saul"--hereThomas started and raised a finger. "Eh! wasn't that the front doorclosing?"

All listened, but no sound could be heard. "Perhaps missus has gone towalk in the garding, " said cook, "she do that at times. "

"Did you show 'ern out?" asked Thomas, looking at Susan. 

"Only Mr. Clancy, " she answered, "the others had gone before. I heardwhat Miss Loach was saying. Mr. Clancy had quarrelled with Mrs. Herneand she had gone away with Mr. Hale. Then Miss Loach gave it to himhot and sent him away. She's all alone. "

"I must have been mistaken about the door then, " said he. 

"Not at all, " chimed in Mrs. Pill. "Missus is walking as she do do inthe garding, singing and adornin' self with flowers. "

After this poetic flight of fancy on the part of the cook, the supperended. Thomas smoked a pipe and the housemaid cleared away. Mrs. Pilloccupied her time in putting her few straggling locks in curl-papers. 

While Susan was assisting Geraldine, the bell rang. All started. "Ithought missus had gone to bed, " cried the cook, getting up hurriedly. "She'll be in a fine rage if she finds us up. Go to bed, Geraldine, and you, Thomas. Susan, answer the bell. She don't like us not to begettin' our beauty sleep. Bless me it's eleving. "

The clock had just struck as Susan left the kitchen, and the threeservants were bustling about so as to get to bed before theirsharp-eyed old mistress found them. Susan went down the stairs. Thedoor of the sitting-room was closed. She knocked but no voice told herto enter. Wondering if the bell had been rung by mistake, Susanknocked again, and again received no answer. She had a mind to retreatrather than face the anger of Miss Loach. But remembering that thebell had rung, she opened the door, determined to explain. Miss Loachwas seated in her usual chair, but leaning back with a ghastly face. The glare of the electric lamp fixed in the ceiling, shone full on herwhite countenance, and also on something else. The bosom of her purplegown was disarranged, and the lace which adorned it was stained withblood. Startled by her looks Susan hurried forward and gazedsearchingly into the face. There was no sign of recognition in thewide, staring eyes. Susan, quivering with dread, touched Miss Loach'sshoulder. Her touch upset the body and it rolled on the floor. Thewoman was dead. With a shriek Susan recoiled and fell on her knees. Her cry speedily brought the other servants. 

"Look!" cried Susan pointing, "she is dead--murdered!"

Geraldine and Mrs. Pill shrieked with horror. Thomas preserved hisstolid look of composure. 

CHAPTER III

A MYSTERIOUS DEATH

To be the husband of a celebrated woman is not an unmixed blessing. Mr. Peter Octagon found it to be so, when he married Mrs. Saxon, thewidow of an eminent Q. C. She was a fine Junoesque tragic woman, whomodelled herself on the portraits of the late Mrs. Siddons. Peter, onthe contrary, was a small, meek, light-haired, short-sighted man, whohad never done anything in his unromantic life, save accumulate afortune as a law-stationer. For many years he lived in singleblessedness, but when he retired with an assured income of threethousand a year, he thought he would marry. He had no relatives, having been brought up in a Foundling Hospital, and consequently, foundlife rather lonely in his fine Kensington house. He really did notcare about living in such a mansion, and had purchased the property asa speculation, intending to sell it at a profit. But having fallen inwith Mrs. Saxon, then a hard-up widow, she not only induced him tomarry her, but, when married, she insisted that the house should beretained, so that she could dispense hospitality to a literary circle. 

Mrs. Octagon was very literary. She had published several novels underthe nom-de-plume of "Rowena. " She had produced a volume of poems; shehad written a play which had been produced at a matinee; and finallyher pamphlets on political questions stamped her, in the opinion of herimmediate circle, as a William Pitt in petticoats. She looked uponherself as the George Eliot of the twentieth century, and dated eventsfrom the time of her first success. "That happened before I becamefamous, " she would say. "No, it was after I took the public by storm. "And her immediate circle, who appreciated her cakes and ale, wouldagree with everything she said. The Kensington house was called "TheShrine of the Muses!" and this title was stamped on her envelopes andwriting-paper, to the bewilderment of illiterate postmen. It soundedlike the name of a public-house to them. 

Peter was quite lost in the blaze of his wife's literary glory. He wasa plain, homely, small man, as meek as a rabbit, fond of his garden andfireside, and nervous in society. Had he not committed the fatalmistake of wedding Mrs. Saxon, he would have taken a cottage in thecountry and cultivated flowers. As it was, he dwelt in town and wasordered to escort Mrs. Octagon when she chose to "blaze, " as she putit, in her friends' houses. Also there was a reception every Fridaywhen literary London gathered round "Rowena, " and lamented the declineof Art. These people had never done anything to speak of, none of themwere famous in any wide sense, but they talked of art with a big "A, "though what they meant was not clear even to themselves. So far ascould be ascertained Art, with a big "A, " was concerned with somethingwhich did not sell, save to a select circle. Mrs. Octagon's circlewould have shuddered collectively and individually at the idea ofwriting anything interesting, likely to be enjoyed by the toilers ofmodern days. Whatever pictures, songs, books or plays were written byanyone who did not belong to "The Circle, " these were considered"pretty, but not Tart!" Anything successful was pronounced "Vulgar!"To be artistic in Mrs. Octagon's sense, a work had to possessobscurity, it had to be printed on the finest paper with selected type, and it had to be sold at a prohibitive price. In this way "Rowena" hadproduced her works, and her name was not known beyond her smallcoterie. All the same, she intimated that her renown was world-wideand that her fame would be commensurate with the existence of theAnglo-Saxon race. Mrs. Lee Hunter in the Pickwick Papers, also laboredunder the same delusion. 

With Peter lived Mrs. Saxon's children by the eminent Q. C. Basil, whowas twenty-five, and Juliet age twenty-two. They were both handsomeand clever, but Juliet was the more sensible of the two. She detestedthe sham enthusiasm of The Circle, and appreciated Peter more than hermother did. Basil had been spoilt by his mother, who considered him agenius, and had produced a book of weak verse. Juliet was fond of herbrother, but she saw his faults and tried to correct them. She wishedto make him more of a man and less of an artistic fraud, for the youngman really did possess talents. But the hothouse atmosphere of "TheShrine of the Muses!" would have ruined anyone possessed of genius, unless he had a strong enough nature to withstand the sickly adulationand false judgments of those who came there. Basil was not strong. Hewas pleasant, idle, rather vain, and a little inclined to bedissipated. Mrs. Octagon did not know that Basil was fond ofdissipation. She thought him a model young Oxford man, and hoped hewould one day be Laureate of England. 

Afternoon tea was just ended, and several of Mrs. Octagon's friends haddeparted. Basil and Mr. Octagon were out, but the latter entered witha paper in his hand shortly after the last visitor took her leave. Mrs. Octagon, in a ruby-colored velvet, looking majestic andself-satisfied, was enthroned--the word is not too strong--in anarm-chair, and Juliet was seated opposite to her turning over theleaves of a new novel produced by one of The Circle. It wasbeautifully printed and bound, and beautifully written in "precious"English, but its perusal did not seem to afford her any satisfaction. Her attention wandered, and every now and then she looked at the dooras though expecting someone to enter. Mrs. Octagon disapproved ofJuliet's pale cheeks and want of attention to her own fascinatingconversation, so, when alone, she took the opportunity to correct her. 

"My child, " said Mrs. Octagon, who always spoke in a tragic manner, andin a kind of blank-verse way, "to me it seems your cheeks are somewhatpale. "

"I had no sleep last night, " said Juliet, throwing down the book. 

"Your thoughts concerned themselves with Cuthbert's face, no doubt, mylove, " said her mother fondly. 

"No, I was not thinking of him. I was worried about--about--my newdress, " she finished, after vainly casting about for some more sensiblereason. 

"How foolish children are. You trouble about your dress when youshould have been thinking of the man who loves you. "

"Does Cuthbert love me?" asked Juliet, flushing. 

"As Romeo loved your namesake, sweetest child. And a very good matchit is too, " added Mrs. Octagon, relapsing into prose. "He is LordCaranby's heir, and will have a title and a fortune some day. But Iwould not force you to wed against your will, my dear. "

"I love Cuthbert and Cuthbert loves me, " said Juliet quickly, "we quiteunderstand one another. I wonder why he did not come to-day. "

"Ah, " said her mother playfully, "I saw that your thoughts wereotherwhere. Your eyes wandered constantly to the door. He may comelate. By the way, where is my dearest son?"

"Basil? He went out this morning. I believe he intended to call onAunt Selina. "

Mrs. Octagon lost a trifle of her suave manner, and became decidedlymore human. "Then I wish he would not call there, " she said sharply. "Selina Loach is my own sister, but I do not approve of her. "

"She is a poor, lonely dear, mother. "

"Poor, my child, she is not, as I have every reason to believe she iswell endowed with this world's goods. Lonely she may be, but that isher own fault. Had she behaved as she should have done, Lady Caranbywould have been her proud title. As to dear, " Mrs. Octagon shruggedher fine shoulders, "she is not a woman to win or retain love. Look atthe company she keeps. Mr. Hale, her lawyer, is not a nice man. Ihave espied something evil in his eye. That Clancy creature is said tobe rich. He needs to be, if only to compensate for his rough way. They visit her constantly. "

"You have forgotten Mrs. Herne, " said Juliet, rising, and beginning topace the room restlessly and watch out of the window. 

"I have never met Mrs. Herne. And, indeed, you know, that for privatereasons I have never visited Selina at that ridiculous house of hers. When were you there last, Juliet, my child?"

The girl started and appeared embarrassed. "Oh, a week ago, " she saidhurriedly, then added restlessly, "I wonder why Basil does not comeback. He has been away all day. "

"Do you know why he has called on your aunt, my dear?"

"No, " said Juliet, in a hesitating manner, and turned again to look outof the window. Then she added, as though to escape furtherquestioning, "I have seen Mrs. Herne only once, but she seemed to me avery nice, clever old woman. "

"Clever, " said Mrs. Octagon, raising her eyebrows, which were asstrongly marked as those of her sister, "no. She does not belong toThe Circle. "

"A person can be clever without that, " said Juliet impatiently. 

"No. All the clever people in London come here, Juliet. If Mrs. Hernehad been brilliant, she would have found her way to our Shrine. "

Juliet shrugged her shoulders and curled her pretty lip. She did notappreciate her privileges in that house. In fact, a word distinctlyresembling "Bother!" escaped from her mouth. However, she went ontalking of Mrs. Herne, as though to keep her mother from questioningher further. 

"There is a mystery about Mrs. Herne, " she said, coming to the fire;"for I asked Aunt Selina who she was, and she could not tell me. "

"That is so like Selina, " rejoined Mrs. Octagon tartly, "receiving aperson of whom she knows nothing. "

"Oh, she does know a little. Mrs. Herne is the widow of a Spanishmerchant, and she struck me as being foreign herself. Aunt Selina hasknown her for three years, and she has come almost every week to playwhist at Rose Cottage. I believe she lives at Hampstead!"

"It seems to me, Juliet, that your aunt told you a great deal aboutthis person. Why did you ask?"

Juliet stared into the fire. "There is something so strange about Mrs. Herne, " she murmured. "In spite of her gray hair she looks quiteyoung. She does not walk as an old woman. She confessed to being overfifty. To be sure, I saw her only once. "

Mrs. Octagon grew rather cross. "I am over fifty, and I'm sure I don'tlook old, you undutiful child. When the soul is young, what mattersthe house of clay. But, as I was saying, " she added hastily, notchoosing to talk of her age, which was a tender point with her, "SelinaLoach likes low company. I know nothing of Mrs. Herne, but what yousay of her does not sound refined. "

"Oh, she is quite a lady. "

"And as to Mr. Clancy and Mr. Jarvey Hale, " added Mrs. Octagon, takingno notice, "I mistrust them. That Hale man looked as though he woulddo a deed of darkness on the slightest provocation. "

So tragic was her mother's manner, that Juliet turned even paler thanshe was. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked quickly. 

"I mean murder, if I must use so vulgar and melodramatic a word. "

"But I don't understand--"

"Bless me, " cried Mrs. Octagon, becoming more prosaic than ever, "thereis nothing to understand. But Selina lives in quite a lonely house, and has a lot of money. I never open the papers but what I expect toread of her death by violence. "

"Oh, " murmured Juliet, again crossing to the window, "you should nottalk like that, mother!"

Mrs. Octagon laughed good-naturedly. "Nonsense, child. I am onlytelling you my thoughts. Selina is such a strange woman and keeps suchstrange company that she won't end in the usual way. You may be sureof that. But, after all, if she does die, you will come in for hermoney and then, can marry Cuthbert Mallow. "

Juliet shuddered. "I hope Aunt Selina will live for many a long day, if that is what you think, " she said sharply. "I want none of hermoney. Cuthbert has money of his own, and his uncle is rich also. "

"I really hope Cuthbert has enough to justify him gambling. "

"He does not gamble, " said Juliet quickly. 

"Yes he does, " insisted Mrs. Octagon. "I have heard rumors; it is butright you should hear about--"

"I want to hear nothing. I thought you liked Cuthbert. "

"I do, and he is a good match. But I should like to see you accept thePoet Arkwright, who will yet be the Shakespeare of England. "

"England has quite enough glory with the Shakespeare she has, " rejoinedJuliet tartly, "and as to Mr. Arkwright, I wouldn't marry him if he hada million. A silly, ugly, weak--"

"Stop!" cried Mrs. Octagon, rising majestically from her throne. "Donot malign genius, lest the gods strike you dumb. Child--"

What Mrs. Octagon was about to say further must remain ever a mystery, for it was at this moment that her husband hurried into the room withan evening paper in his hand. "My dear, " he said, his scanty hairalmost standing on end with horror, "such dreadful news. Your aunt, Juliet, my dear--"

"Selina, " said Mrs. Octagon quietly, "go on. There is nothing bad Idon't expect to hear about Selina. What is it?"

"She is dead!"

"Dead!" cried Juliet, clasping her hands nervously. "No!"

"Not only dead, but murdered!" cried Mr. Octagon. His wife suddenlydropped into her throne and, being a large fleshly woman, her fallshook the room. Then she burst into tears. "I never liked Selina, " shesniffed, "even though she was my own sister, but I am sorry--I amdreadfully--oh, dear me! Poor Selina!"

By this time all the dramatic posing of Mrs. Octagon had gone by thewall, and she showed herself in her true colors as a kind-heartedwoman. Juliet hurried to her mother and took one of her hands. Theelder woman started, even in the midst of her tears. "My child, yourhand is as cold as ice, " she said anxiously. "Are you ill. "

"No, " said the girl hurriedly and evidently trying to suppress heremotion, "but this dreadful news! Do you remember what you said?"

"Yes--but I never expected I would be a true prophetess, " sobbed Mrs. Octagon. "Peter, " with sudden tartness, "why don't you give me thedetails. Poor Selina dead, and here am I in ruby velvet!"

"There are not many details to give, " said Peter, reading from thenewspaper, "the police are keeping quiet about the matter. "

"Who killed her?"

Juliet rose suddenly and turned on the electric light, so that herstep-father could see to read more clearly. "Yes, " she said in a firmvoice, belied by the ghastly whiteness of her face, "who killed her?"

"It is not known, " said Mr. Octagon. "Last night she entertained a fewfriends--to be precise, three, and she was found by her new parlor-maiddead in her chair, stabbed to the heart. The weapon has not beenfound, nor has any trace of the murderer been discovered. "

"Entertained friends, " muttered Mrs. Octagon weeping, "the usual lot. Mr. Hale, Mrs. Herne and Mr. Clancy--"

"Yes, " said Peter, somewhat surprised, "how do you know?"

"My soul, whispered me, " said Mrs. Octagon tragically, and becomingmelodramatic again, now that the first shock was over. "One of thosethree killed her. Who struck the fatal blow?--the villain Hale I doubtnot. "

"No, " cried Juliet, "it was not Mr. Hale. He would not harm a fly. "

"Probably not, " said her mother tartly, "a fly has no property--yourAunt Selina had. Oh, my dear, " she added, darting away at a tangent, "to think that last night you and Basil should have been witnesses of amelodrama at the Marlow Theatre, at the very time this real tragedy wastaking place in the rural country. "

"It's a most dreadful affair, " murmured Peter, laying aside the paper. "Had I not better go down to Rose Cottage and offer my services?"

"No, " said Mrs. Octagon sharply, "don't mix yourself up in thisdreadful affair. Few people know that Selina was my sister, and Idon't want everyone to be condoling with me on this tragedy. "

"But we must do something, " said Juliet quickly. 

"We will wait, my dear. But I don't want more publicity than isnecessary. "

"But I have told some of our friends that Aunt Selina is a relative. "

"Then you should not have done so, " replied her mother, annoyed. "However, people soon forget names, and the thing may not be noticed. "

"My dear, " said Octagon, seriously, "you should not be ashamed of yoursister. She may not have your renown nor rank, still--"

"I know my own knowing, " interrupted the lady rather violently, andcrushing her meek husband with a look. "Selina and I are strangers, and have been for years. What are the circumstances of the case? Ihave not seen Selina for over fifteen years. I hear nothing about her. She suddenly writes to me, asking if my dear children may call and seeher--that was a year ago. You insisted that they should go, Peter, because relatives should be friendly. I consented, as I heard from Mr. Hale that Selina was rich, and fancied she might leave her money to mychildren. Juliet has called several times--"

"More than that, " interrupted Juliet in her turn, "both Basil and Ihave called nearly every month. We sometimes went and did not tellyou, mother, as you seemed so annoyed that we should visit her. "

"I consented only that you might retain her goodwill and get what moneyshe might leave, " said Mrs. Octagon obstinately. "There is nothing incommon between Selina and me. "

"There was nothing in common, " put in Octagon softly. 

"I know she is dead. You need not remind me of that unpleasant fact, sir. And her death is worthy of her strange, and I fear not altogetherreputable life. "

"Oh, mother, how can you? Aunt Selina was the most particular--"

"There--there, " said her mother who was much agitated, "I know morethan you do. And between ourselves, I believe I know who killed her. Yes! You may look. And this death, Juliet, ends your engagement withCuthbert. "

CHAPTER IV

DETAILS

What Mrs. Octagon meant by her last enigmatic remark it is impossibleto say. After delivering it in her usual dramatic manner, she sweptfrom the room, leaving Juliet and her step-father staring at oneanother. Peter was the first to break the silence. 

"Your mother appears to be very positive, " said he. 

"About my giving up Cuthbert?" asked Juliet sharply. 

"About the crime. She hinted that she guessed who killed the poorlady. I never knew Miss Loach myself, " added Mr. Octagon, seatinghimself and ruffling his scanty locks, a habit with him when perplexed, "but you said you liked her. "

"Yes, Aunt Selina was always very nice to me. She had strange ways, and, to tell you the truth, father, " Juliet always addressed Peterthus, to his great delight, "she was not so refined as mother--"

"Few people are so refined as my wife, my dear. "

"As to mother knowing who killed her, " pursued Juliet, taking no noticeof this interpolation, "it's nonsense. She said she believed Mr. Haleor Mr. Clancy--"

"Surely not, " interposed Mr. Octagon anxiously, "both these gentlemenhave participated in the delights of our literary Circle, and I shouldbe loath to credit them with violence. "

"I don't believe either has anything to do with the matter. Motherdoesn't like them because they were such good friends to Aunt Selina. Can you guess why mother quarrelled with aunt, father?"

"No, my dear. Your mother has some grudge against her. What it is Ido not know. She never told me. But for over fifteen years yourmother spoke little of your aunt and never called to see her. I wasquite astonished when she consented that you and Basil should call. Did your aunt ever speak of your mother?"

"Very little, and then she was cautious--what she said. But this isnot the question, " continued the girl, leaning her chin on her hand andstaring into the fire; "why does mother say I must break my engagementwith Cuthbert on account of this death?"

"Perhaps she will explain. "

"No; she left the room to avoid an explanation. Cuthbert certainly sawAunt Selina once or twice, but he did not care for her. But he canhave nothing to do with the matter. Then again, mother, up till now, was always pleased that I should marry Cuthbert. "

"Yes, " said Octagon, twiddling his thumbs; "she has known Mr. Mallowever since he was a child. Both your aunt and your mother were greatfriends of Lord Caranby's in their youth, over twenty years ago. Ibelieve at one time Selina was engaged to him, but he was in love witha young lady called Miss Saul, who died unexpectedly. "

"I know, " said Juliet; "and then Lord Caranby abandoned the house hewas building at Rexton, and it has been shut up all these years. AuntSelina told me the story. When I asked mother for details, she refusedto speak. "

"Your mother is very firm when she likes. "

"Very obstinate, you mean, " said Juliet, undutifully. "However, I amnot going to give up Cuthbert. I love him and he loves me. I intendto marry him whatever mother may say. "

"But if your mother refuses her consent?"

"I am over age. "

As she spoke her brother entered the room hurriedly. Basil Saxon wasas fair and weak-looking as his sister was dark and strong inappearance. He was smartly dressed, and in a rather affected way. Hishair was long, he wore a moustache and a short imperial, and talked ina languid way in a somewhat obscure manner. These were the traitsJuliet disliked in Basil. She would rather have seen him a sprucewell-groomed man about town like Cuthbert. But at the present momentBasil's face was flushed, and he spoke hurriedly, evidently laboringunder great stress of emotion. 

"Have you heard the news?" he said, dropping into a chair and casting aside look at the evening paper which Peter still held. 

"If you mean about the death--"

"Yes; Aunt Selina has been murdered. I called to see her this morning, and found the house in the possession of the police. All day I havebeen down there with Mallow. "

"With Cuthbert, " said Juliet, starting and growing red. "What was hedoing there?"

"He came down to Rexton to see about the unfinished house. Lord Caranbyhas returned to England, and he has thoughts of pulling it down. Mallow came to have a look at the place. "

"But he can't get in. There is a wall round the grounds. "

"He climbed over the wall, " said Basil, quickly, "and after lookingthrough the house he came out. Then he saw me, and I told him what hadhappened. He appeared dreadfully shocked. "

Juliet shivered in spite of the heat of the day and the fire, nearwhich she was seated. "It is strange he should have been there. "

Her brother threw a keen glance at her. "I don't see that!" heexclaimed. "He gave his reason for being in the neighborhood. He cameup with me, and is coming on here in a few moments. This is why he didnot turn up this afternoon. "

Juliet nodded and appeared satisfied with this explanation. But shekept her eyes on her brother when he entered into details about thecrime. Her emotions during the recital betrayed themselves markedly. 

"I saw the detective, " said Basil, with quicker speech than usual. "Heis a first-rate chap called Jennings, and when he heard I was MissLoach's nephew he didn't mind speaking freely. "

"What did you learn?" asked Mr. Octagon. 

"Enough to make the mystery surrounding the death deeper than ever. "

"What do you mean?" asked his sister, restlessly. "Can't the murdererbe found?"

"Not a trace of him can be discovered. "

"Why do you say 'him. ' It might have been a woman. "

"No, " rejoined Basil positively, "no woman could have struck so hard ablow. Aunt Selina was stabbed to the heart. She must have been killedas she was rising from her chair, and death, so the doctor says, musthave been instantaneous. "

"Has the weapon been found?" asked Juliet in a low voice. 

Basil turned quickly in his chair, and looked at her sharply. "No!" hesaid, "not a sign of any weapon can be found, nor can it be discoveredhow anyone got into the house. Though to be sure, she might haveadmitted her visitor. "

"Explain! explain, " cried Mr. Octagon, ruffling his hair. 

"Well, to tell the story in detail, " said his step-son, "the way ithappened is this. Aunt Selina had Mr. Hale and Mr. Clancy and Mrs. Herne to their usual game of whist. Clancy, as it appears from thereport of what the new parlor-maid overheard, quarrelled with Hale andMrs. Herne. They left before ten o'clock. At all events, when sheentered the room in answer to my aunt's summons, she found only Mr. Clancy, and aunt was scolding him for having provoked Mrs. Herne bycontradicting her. Apparently Mrs. Herne had gone away under the wingof Hale. Then aunt sent Clancy away at ten o'clock. The parlor-maidreturned to the kitchen and there had supper. She heard the bell ringat eleven, and found aunt dead in the sitting-room, stabbed to theheart. "

"Heard the bell ring?" echoed Juliet. "But how could aunt ring if shehad been killed?"

"She might have rung as she was dying, " said Basil, after a pause. "Itseems she was seated near the button of the bell and could have touchedit without rising. She might have rung with a last effort, and thenhave died before the parlor-maid could get to the room. "

"Or else, " said Mr. Octagon, anxious to prove his perspicuity, "theassassin may have stabbed her and then have touched the bell. "

"What!" cried his step-son derisively, "to summon a witness. I don'tthink the assassin would be such a fool. However, that's all that canbe discovered. Aunt Selina is dead, and no one knows who killed her. "

"Was the house locked up?" "The front door was closed, and the windowswere bolted and barred. Besides, a policeman was walking down CrookedLane a few minutes before eleven, and would have seen anyone leavingthe house. He reported that all was quiet. "

"Then the assassin might have rung the bell at eleven, " said Peter. 

"Certainly not, for he could never have escaped immediately afterwards, without the policeman seeing him. "

"He might have got out by the back, " suggested Juliet. 

"My dear girl, what are you thinking of. That wall round LordCaranby's mansion blocks any exit at the back. Anyone leaving thehouse must go up the lane or through that part at the bottom. Thepoliceman was near there shortly before eleven and saw no one leavingthe house. "

"But, look here, " said Mr. Octagon, who had been ruminating; "if, asthe doctor says, death was instantaneous, how could your aunt have rungthe bell?"

"Yes, " added Juliet. "And even had death not taken place at once, itcould not have been more than a few minutes before eleven when the blowwas struck. Aunt might have had strength to crawl to the bell andtouch it, but the assassin could not have escaped from the house, seeing--as you say--the policeman was on guard. "

"Aunt died instantaneously, " insisted Basil. 

"Then she could not have sounded the bell, " said Juliet triumphantly. 

"The assassin did that, " said Peter. 

"And thus called a witness, " cried Basil. "Ridiculous!"

"Then how do you explain the matter?"

"I can't explain. Neither can the detective Jennings. It's a mystery. "

"Could any of the servants--" began Peter. 

"No, " interrupted Saxon. "The four servants were having supper in thekitchen. They are innocent. Well, we'll see what the inquest reveals. Something may be found before then likely to elucidate the mystery. But here comes Mallow. He questioned Jennings also, so you canquestion him if you like. Does mother know?"

"Yes. And she doesn't want the fact of her relationship to your aunttalked about. "

Basil understood at once. "No wonder, " he said, shrugging hisshoulders. "It is not a pleasant affair for a woman of mother'scelebrity to be mixed up with. "

Meantime, Juliet having heard the ring at the front door, escaped fromthe room to see her lover. She met him divesting himself of hisovercoat in the hall, and ran to him with outstretched hands. "But whyhave you got on an overcoat this warm day?" she asked. 

"I have a cold. I caught one last night, " said Cuthbert, kissing her. 

"Where were you last night?" asked Juliet, drawing him into a sideroom. "I thought you were coming to the Marlow Theatre with Basil andme. "

"Yes. But my uncle arrived unexpectedly in England and sent for me tohis hotel in Guelph street--the Avon Hotel, you know. He will insiston a fire even in June, and the room was so hot that I caught cold whenI came out. I had to go down to Rexton to-day on his business, and puton a coat so as to avoid catching further cold. But why this room, Juliet?"

"Father and Basil are in the drawing-room. They are talking of themurder, and I don't want to hear any more about it. "

"There are pleasanter things to talk about, " said Mallow. "I knewBasil would come crammed with news. Has he told you--"

"He told us everything he could gather from the detective. It seemsthat the crime is quite a mystery. "

"Quite. Why your aunt should be killed, or how the assassin escaped, after killing her, cannot be discovered. Jennings is in high gleeabout it. He loves a puzzle of this sort. "

"Do you know him?" asked Juliet anxiously. 

"Oh, yes. Jennings is a gentleman. He was at Eton with me. But he ranthrough his money and took up the detective business. He is veryclever, and if anyone will learn the truth, he will. Now, my theory--"

Juliet put her hand over his mouth. "Don't, " she said. "I have hadenough horrors for this afternoon. Let us talk of ourselves. "

"I would rather do this, " said Mallow, and kissed her. 

Mallow was a handsome fellow, tall and slim, with a rather militarycarriage. His face was clean-shaven save for a small straw-coloredmoustache, which showed up almost white against the bronze of his face. He was more of an athlete than a student, and this was one reason whyJuliet was fond of him. She had seen so much of literary circles thatshe always vowed she would marry a man who never opened a book. Cuthbert nearly fulfilled this requirement, as he read little, savenovels and newspapers. He was well known in sporting circles, andhaving a good private income, owned race-horses. He was alwaysirreproachably dressed, good-humored and cheerful. Consequently he waspopular, and if not overburdened with brains, managed to make himselfagreeable to the world, and to have what the Americans call "a goodtime. " He had travelled much and was fond of big-game shooting. Tocomplete his characterization, it is necessary to mention that he hadserved in the Boer War, and had gained a D. S. O. But that was in thedays before he met Juliet or he might not have risked a life soprecious to her. 

Juliet was dark and rather little, not at all like her Junoesquemother. She was extremely pretty and dressed to perfection. Havingmore brains and a stronger will than Mallow, she guided him in everyway, and had already succeeded in improving his morals. With so gentleand charming a mentor, Cuthbert was quite willing to be led into thepaths of virtue. He adored Juliet and she loved him, so it appearedthat the marriage would be quite ideal. 

"Much as we love one another, " said Cuthbert when the lovers wereseated on the sofa. "I wonder you can talk of anything but this horridmurder. "

"Because there is nothing to talk of, " rejoined the girl impatiently;"according to Basil, the case is most mysterious, so it is useless forus to worry over it until something tangible is discovered. But I wantto speak to you seriously--" here Juliet hesitated. 

"Well, go on, " said Cuthbert, taking her hand. 

"Mother says--" began Juliet, then hesitated again. "Promise me youwill keep to yourself what I am about to tell you. "

"Certainly. I never was a fellow to chatter. "

"Then mother says that this murder will put a stop to our marriage. "

Mallow stared, then flushed up to his ears. "What on earth does shemean by that?" he asked aghast. 

Juliet looked searchingly at him. "Do you know of any impediment?"

"I? Of course I don't. I am sorry for the death of your aunt, but Ireally don't see what it has to do with you and me. "

Juliet drew a breath of relief. "Mother hints that she knows whocommitted the crime, and--"

"What! She knows. How does she know?"

"I can't say. She refuses to speak. She was not on good terms withAunt Selina and they never saw one another for over fifteen years. Butmother is much disturbed about the murder--"

"That is natural. A sister is a sister however much one may havequarrelled. But why should this death stop our marriage?"

"I know no more than you do. Here is mother. Ask her yourself. "

It was indeed Mrs. Octagon who entered the room. She looked very pale, but otherwise was perfectly composed. In silence she gave her hand toCuthbert, and kept her black eyes fixed steadily on his face. Theyoung man flushed and turned away, whereat Mrs. Octagon sighed. Julietbroke an embarrassed silence. 

"Mother, " she said, "I have told Cuthbert what you said. "

"Then you had no right to, " said Mrs. Octagon sternly. 

"Oh, I think she had, " said Mallow, rather annoyed. "Seeing you hintthat this crime will stop our marriage. "

Mrs. Octagon did not answer. "Is your uncle in town?" she asked. 

"Yes. He arrived from the continent a day or two ago. "

"I thought so, " she said, half to herself, and strove to repress heragitation. "Mr. Mallow, my daughter can't marry you. "

"Why not? Give your reason. "

"I have no reason to give. "

"But you must. Is it on account of this murder?"

"It is. I told Juliet so. But I cannot explain. "

The lovers looked at one another in a dazed fashion. The woman'sobjection seemed to be senseless. "Surely you don't think Cuthbertkilled Aunt Selina?" said Juliet, laughing in a forced manner. 

"No. I don't suspect him. "

"Then whom do you suspect?" demanded Mallow. 

"That I decline to say. "

"Will you decline to say it to the police?"

Mrs. Octagon stepped back a pace. "Yes, I should, " she faltered. 

Cuthbert Mallow looked at her, wondering why she was so agitated, andJuliet stole her hand into his. Then he addressed her seriously. 

"Mrs. Octagon, " he said, "your remark about my uncle leads me to thinkyou suspect him. "

"No I don't. But you can't marry Juliet on account of this crime. "

"Then you hear me, " said Mallow, driven into a corner, "from thismoment I devote myself to finding out who killed your unfortunatesister. When the assassin is discovered you may consent to ourmarriage. "

But he spoke to empty air. Mrs. Octagon had left the room, almostbefore the first words left his mouth. 

CHAPTER V

LORD CARANBY'S ROMANCE

Cuthbert was considerably perplexed by the attitude of Juliet's mother. She had always been more than kind to him. On the announcement that hewished to marry her daughter, she had expressed herself well pleased, and during the engagement, which had lasted some six months, she hadreceived him as Juliet's intended husband, with almost ostentatiousdelight. Now, for some inexplicable reason, she suddenly changed hermind and declined to explain. But rack his brains as he might, Cuthbert could not see how the death of a sister she had quarrelledwith, and to whom she had been a stranger for so long, could affect theengagement. 

However, there was no doubt in his mind that the refusal of Mrs. Octagon to approve of the marriage lay in the fact that her sister hadmet with a violent end. Therefore Mallow was determined to seeJennings, and help him to the best of his ability to discover theassassin. When the criminal was brought to justice, either Mrs. Octagon's opposition would be at an end, or the true reason for itsexistence would be revealed. Meantime, he was sure that she would keepJuliet out of his way, and that in future he would be refusedadmittance to the "Shrine of the Muses. " This was annoying, but solong as Juliet remained true, Cuthbert thought he could bear theexclusion. His betrothed--as he still regarded the girl--could meethim in the Park, at the houses of mutual friends, and in a thousand andone places which a clever woman like her could think of. And althoughCuthbert knew that Mrs. Octagon had frequently regretted the refusal ofher daughter to marry Arkwright, and would probably try and induce herto do so now that matters stood thus, yet he was not afraid in his ownheart. Juliet was as staunch as steel, and he was certain that Mr. Octagon would be on his side. Basil probably would agree with hismother, whose lead he slavishly followed. But Mallow had rather acontempt for Basil, and did not count his opposition as dangerous. 

On leaving the "Shrine of the Muses, " the young man's first intentionwas to seek out Jennings and see what progress he was making in thematter. But on reflection he thought he would call again on his uncleand question him regarding his knowledge of Mrs. Octagon. It seemed toCuthbert that, from the woman's question as to whether Lord Caranby hadreturned from abroad, and her remark on hearing that he had, somesuspicion was in her mind as to his being concerned in the crime. Yet, beyond the fact that the unfinished house stood behind the cottagewhere the crime had been committed and belonged to Lord Caranby who hadknown the dead woman in the past, Cuthbert could not see how Mrs. Octagon could constitute a latter-day connection between her deadsister and her old friend. But Lord Caranby might be induced totalk--no easy matter--and from what he said, the mystery of Mr. Octagon's attitude might be elucidated. Only in the past--so far asthe perplexed young man could conjecture--could be found the reason forher sudden change of front. 

Cuthbert therefore sent a wire to his uncle, stating that he wished tosee him after eight o'clock on special business, and then went home todress. 

While thus employed, he thought over means and ways to make Caranbyopen his mouth. The old lord was a silent, grave man, who neveruttered an unnecessary word, and it was difficult to induce him to beconfidential. But invariably he had approved of his nephew'sengagement, although he had never seen Juliet, so it might be that hewould speak out--if there was anything to say--in order to remove anyimpediment to the match. It depended upon what information he receivedas to how Mallow would act. 

At half-past eight he drove to the Avon Hotel and was shown up at onceto his uncle's sitting-room. That he should live in an hotel wasanother of Caranby's eccentricities. He had a house in town and threein the country, yet for years he had lived--as the saying is--on hisportmanteau. Even the villa at Nice he owned was unoccupied by thisstrange nobleman, and was usually let to rich Americans. When inEngland he stopped at the Avon Hotel and when in the country remainedat any inn of the neighborhood in which he might chance to find himselfwandering. And wandering is an excellent word to apply to LordCaranby's peregrinations. He was as restless as a gipsy and far moreaimless. He never appeared to take an interest in anything: he wasalways moving here, there and everywhere, and had--so far as Cuthbertknew--no object in life. His reason for this Cainlike behavior, Caranby never condescended to explain. 

When his nephew entered the room, looking smart and handsome in hisaccurate evening suit, Caranby, who was seated near the fire, stood upcourteously to welcome him, leaning on his cane. He suffered fromsciatica, and could not walk save with the assistance of his stick. And on this account also, he always insisted on the room being heatedto an extraordinary degree. Like a salamander he basked in the heat, and would not allow either door or window to be opened, even in themidst of summer, when a large fire made the apartment almostunendurable. Cuthbert felt as though he were walking into a Turkishbath, and sat as far away from the fire as he could. After salutinghim, his uncle sank back into his seat and looked at him inquiringly. 

Lord Caranby was tall and thin--almost emaciated--with a lean, sallow, clean-shaven face, and a scanty crop of fair hair mixed with gray. Hiseyes were sunken but full of vitality, although usually they were graveand somewhat sad. His hands were deformed with gout, but for all thathe wore several costly rings. He was perfectly dressed, and as quietand composed as an artist's model. When he spoke it was in anunemotional way, as though he had exhausted all expression of hisfeelings early in life. Perhaps he had, for from what Cuthbert hadheard from his uncle, the past of that nobleman was not withoutexcitement. But Caranby's name was rarely mentioned in London. Heremained so much abroad that he had quite dropped out of the circle tothe entry of which his rank entitled him. His age was sixty-five. 

"You are surprised at seeing me again to-night, " said Cuthbert. 

"I am never surprised at anything, " replied his uncle dryly, "but weexhausted all we had to say to one another before eight o'clock lastnight, at which time you left. I therefore don't know why you havecome this evening. Our conversation is bound to be dull, and--excuseme--I can't afford to be bored at my age. "

"I cannot say that our conversation was particularly agreeable lastnight, " rejoined Mallow, equally dryly, "we talked business and moneymatters, and about your will. "

"And about your engagement also, " said Caranby without a vestige of asmile. "That should interest a young man of your ardent temperament. I certainly thought the subject amused you. "

"Would you be surprised to learn that my engagement has been broken offsince our conversation, " said Cuthbert, crossing his legs. 

"No! Who can account for the whims of a woman. After all, perhaps youare to be congratulated on not marrying a weathercock. "

"Juliet has nothing to do with the breaking of our engagement. Hermother objects. "

"I understood for the last six months that her mother not onlyapproved, but was delighted. "

"That is the strange part, sir. On hearing of the death of her sister, Mrs. Octagon suddenly changed her mind, and told me that the marriagecould not take place. "

"Did she give any reason?"

"She declined to do so. "

"The same woman, " muttered Caranby, "always mysterious andunsatisfactory. You say her sister is dead?"

Cuthbert cast a look at the Globe, which lay on a small table nearCaranby's elbow. "If you have read the papers, sir--" "Yes! I haveread that Miss Loach has been murdered. You went down to Rextonto-day. I presume you heard something more than the details set forthby the press. "

Cuthbert nodded. "It appears to be a mystery. "

Caranby did not reply, but looked into the fire. "Poor Selina!" hesaid half to himself. "A sad end for such a charming woman. "

"I should hardly apply that word to Miss Loach, sir. She did notappear to be a lady, and was by no means refined. "

"She must have changed then. In her young days she and her sister werethe handsomest women in London. "

"I believe you were engaged to one of them, " said Mallow politely. 

"Yes, " replied his uncle grimly. "But I escaped. "

"Escaped?"

"A strange word is it not, but a suitable one. "

Cuthbert did not know what to make of this speech. "Have I yourpermission to smoke?" he asked, taking out his case. 

"Yes! Will you have some coffee?"

"Thank you. I had some before I came here. Will you--" he extendedthe case of cigarettes, which Caranby declined. 

"Ring for Fletcher to get me my chibouque. "

"It is in the corner. We will dispense with Fletcher with yourpermission. " And Cuthbert brought the chibouque to his uncle's side. In another minute the old man was smoking as gravely as any Turk. Thismethod of consuming tobacco was another eccentricity. For a fewmoments neither spoke. Then Caranby broke the silence. 

"So you want me to help you to find out Mrs. Octagon's reason?"

"I do, " said Mallow, rather surprised by Caranby's perspicuity. 

"What makes you think I can explain?"

Cuthbert looked at his cigarette. "I asked you on the chance that youmay be able to do so, " he said gravely. "The fact is, to be frank, Mrs. Octagon appears to think you might have something to do with thecrime. "

Caranby did not seem surprised, but smoked imperturbably. "I don'tquite understand. "

The young man related how Mrs. Octagon had inquired if the Earl wasback from the Continent, and her subsequent remark. "Of course I may beunduly suspicious, " said he. "But it suggested--"

"Quite so, " interrupted the old gentleman gravely. "You are quick atputting two and two together. Isabella Octagon hates me so much thatshe would gladly see me on the scaffold. I am not astonished that shesuspects me. "

"But what motive can she impute--"

Caranby laid aside the long coil he was holding and laughed quietly tohimself. "Oh, she'll find a motive if it suits her. But what I cannotunderstand is, why she should accuse me now. She has had ampleopportunity during the past twenty years, since the death of Miss Saul, for instance. "

"She did not exactly accuse you. "

"No, a woman like that would not. And then of course, her sister dyingonly last night affords her the opportunity of getting me into trouble. But I am afraid Mrs. Octagon will be disappointed of her revenge, longthough she has waited. "

"Revenge! remember, sir, she is the mother of Juliet. "

"I sincerely hope Juliet does not take after her, then, " said LordCaranby, tartly. "To be perfectly plain with you, Cuthbert, I couldnever understand why Mrs. Octagon sanctioned your engagement with herdaughter, considering you are my nephew. "

"I don't understand, " said Mallow, staring and uneasily. 

Caranby did not answer immediately. He rose and walked painfully upand down the room leaning heavily on his cane. Mallow offered his armbut was impatiently waved aside. When the old man sat down again heturned a serious face to his nephew. "Do you love this girl?"

"With all my heart and soul. "

"And she loves you?"

"Of course. We were made for one another. "

"But Mrs. Octagon--"

"I don't like Mrs. Octagon--I never did, " said Mallow, impetuously, "but I don't care two straws for her opposition. I shall marry Julietin spite of this revenge she seems to be practising on you. Though whyshe should hope to vex you by meddling with my marriage, I cannotunderstand. "

"I can put the matter in a nutshell, " said Caranby, and quotedCongreve--

 "'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned. '"

"Oh, " said Mallow, dropping his cigarette, and a whole story wasrevealed to him in the quotation. 

"A gentleman doesn't talk of these things, " said Caranby abruptly, "andfor years I have held my tongue. Still, as Mrs. Octagon does nothesitate to strike at me through you, and as your happiness is atstake, and the happiness of the girl you love, I shall tell you--so faras I can guess--why the woman behaves in this way. "

"If you please, sir, " and Cuthbert settled himself to listen. 

"About twenty years ago, " said Caranby, plunging headfirst into hissubject, "Isabella and Selina Loach were well-known in society. Theywere the daughters of a country squire--Kent, I remember--and created asensation with their beauty when they came to town. I fell in lovewith Selina, and Isabella--if you will pardon my vanity--fell in lovewith me. She hated her sister on my account. I would have marriedSelina, but her father, who was hard up, wished her to marry a wealthyAmerican. Isabella, to part Selina from me, helped her father. Whatarguments they used I do not know, but Selina suddenly changed in hermanner towards me. Out of pique--you may think this weak of me, Cuthbert, but I was a fool in those days--I became engaged to a girlwho was a singer. Her name was Emilia Saul, and I believe she was ofJewish extraction. I liked her in a way, and she had a wonderful powerover me. I proposed and was accepted. "

"But if you had really loved Miss Loach--"

"I should have worn the willow. I told you I was foolish, and, moreover, Miss Saul fascinated me. Selina was cold, Emilia wascharming, and I was weak. Therefore, I became engaged to Emilia, andSelina--as I heard, arranged to marry her wealthy American. I believeshe was angry at my apparently forgetting her so soon. But she was infault, not I. "

Cuthbert looked at his smart shoes. "Had I loved Selina, " said heslowly, "I should have remained true to her, and have married her inspite of the objection of her father--"

"And of her sister Isabella--Mrs. Octagon that is; don't forget that, Cuthbert. And I could scarcely run away with a girl who believedstories about me. "

"What sort of stories?" asked Mallow, remembering certain rumors. 

"The sort that one always does tell of an unmarried man, " retortedCaranby. "Scandalous stories, which Isabella picked up and retailed toSelina. But I never pretended to be a saint, and had Selina reallyloved me she would have overlooked certain faults. I did love her, Cuthbert. I did all in my power to prove my love. For a time I wasengaged to her, and when she expressed a wish that I should build her ahouse after her own design, I consented. "

"The house at Rexton!" exclaimed the young man. 

"Exactly. I got an architect to build it according to designssuggested by Selina. When our engagement was broken and I became--outof pique, remember--engaged to Miss Saul, I still went on building thehouse. Selina, I believe, was very angry. One week when I was out ofLondon she went down with her sister to see the house, and there metEmilia. "

"Ah! then there was trouble?"

"No; there was no time for a quarrel, if that is what you mean. Whenthe three met, Emilia was walking across a plank on the unfinishedsecond story. On seeing the Loach girls--this is Isabella'stale--Emilia lost her footing and fell thirty feet. She was killedalmost instantaneously, and her face was much disfigured. This tookplace during the dinner hour when the workmen were absent. When theyreturned, the body was found and recognized by the clothes. "

"Did not the girls remain?"

"No. They took fright at the accident and returned home. But here afresh disaster awaited them. Mr. Loach was dead. He died suddenly ofheart disease. Selina at once broke her engagement with the American, and--"

"And returned to you?"

"Strangely enough she did not. I never saw her again. After the deathof the father the girls went to the Continent, and only came back aftertwo years abroad. Then Isabella, after vainly trying to get me tomarry her, became the wife of Saxon, then a rising barrister. Selinawent to Rexton and shut herself up in the house she now has. "

"The house she did have, " corrected Cuthbert, "you forget she is dead. "

"Yes. I tried to see her, but she refused to look on my face again, alleging that I had treated her badly by becoming engaged to Miss Saul. That poor soul was buried, and then I shut up the house and left it asit is now. I travelled, as you know, for years, and I am travellingstill, for the matter of that, " added Caranby with a sigh, "allSelina's fault. She was the only woman I ever loved. "

"But was there not an inquest held on Emilia's body?"

"Oh yes, and Isabella gave evidence as to the accident. Selina was tooill to appear. But there was no need. The cause of the death wasplain enough. Moreover, Emilia had no relatives who cared to makeinquiries. She left very little money, so those she had, did nottrouble themselves. "

"It is a strange story, " said Cuthbert, looking puzzled. "Had you anidea that Emilia may have been pushed off the plank by Selina?"

"Certainly not, " rejoined Caranby indignantly. "She was a good andkind girl. She would not do such a thing. "

"Humph!" said Mallow, remembering the eagle nose and thin lips of MissLoach. "I'm not so sure of that. "

"Isabella, who was passionate, might have done it, " resumed Caranby, "often did I wish to speak to her on the subject, but I never did. Andafter all, the jury brought in a verdict of accidental death, so therewas no use making trouble. "

"Had Emilia no relatives who might have made inquiries?"

"I believe she had a brother who was a clerk in an office, but, as Isaid, she left no money, so he did not bother himself. I saw him afterthe death, and the sight of him made me glad I had not married hissister. He looked a thorough blackguard, sly and dangerous. But, as Isaid, Emilia came of low people. It was only her fine voice and greattalents that brought her into the society where I met her. I havenever heard of her brother since. I expect he is dead by this time. Itis over twenty years ago. But you can now understand why Mrs. Octagonobjects to the marriage. She has never forgiven me for not making hermy wife. "

Cuthbert nodded again. "But I can't understand why she should haveconsented at all, only to alter her mind when Selina died. "

"I can't understand that myself. But I decline to mix myself up in thematter. You will have to learn the reason yourself. "

"I intend to, " said Mallow rising, "and the reason I am certain isconnected with the violent death of her sister!" A speech to whichCaranby replied by shaking his head. He did not agree with the idea. 

"And you see, in spite of Mrs. Octagon's hint, I had no reason to killSelina, " said Caranby gravely. "I cannot understand why Isabellashould accuse me--"

CHAPTER VI

A PERPLEXING CASE

The morning after his visit to Lord Caranby, Mallow was unexpectedlycalled to Devonshire on account of his mother's illness. Mrs. Mallowwas a fretful hypochondriac, who always imagined herself worse than shereally was. Cuthbert had often been summoned to her dying bed, only tofind that she was alive and well. He expected that this summons wouldbe another false alarm, but being a dutiful son, he tore himself awayfrom town and took the mid-day express to Exeter. As he expected, Mrs. Mallow was by no means so bad as she hinted in her wire, and Cuthbertwas vexed that she should have called him down, but she insisted thathe should remain, and, unwilling to cause her pain, he did so. It wasfour days before he returned to London. But his visit to Exeter wasnot without results, for he asked his mother about Caranby's romance. Mrs. Mallow knew all about it, and highly disapproved of herbrother-in-law. 

"He's crazy, " she said vigorously, when the subject was brought up oneevening. "All his life he has been queer. Your father should have hadthe title, Cuthbert!"

"Well, I shall have it some day, " said her son soothingly. "Caranby isnot likely to marry. "

"Yes, but I'll never be Lady Caranby, " lamented Mrs. Mallow, who wasintensely selfish and egotistical. "And I should have adorned thetitle. Such an old one as it is, too. But I'm glad that horrid SelinaLoach never became his wife. Even that Saul girl would have beenbetter. "

"Don't speak evil of the dead, mother. "

"I don't see why we should praise the bad dead, " snapped Mrs. Mallow. "I never liked either Isabella nor Selina. They were both horrid girlsand constantly quarrelling. They hardly ever spoke to one another, andhow you can contemplate marrying the daughter of Isabella, I reallydon't know. Such a slight to me. But there, I've said all I had tosay on the subject. "

To do her justice, Mrs. Mallow certainly had, and never ceased naggingat Cuthbert to break the engagement. Had she known that Mrs. Octagonhad forbidden the marriage she would have rejoiced, but to save makingawkward explanations to a woman who would not hold her tongue, Cuthbertsaid nothing about the breach. 

"Did you like Miss Saul, mother?" he asked. 

"I only saw her on the concert platform, " said Mrs. Mallow, opening hereyes, "gracious, Cuthbert, I never associated myself with those sort ofpeople. Caranby was infatuated with her. To be sure, he got engagedto spite Selina, and she really did treat him badly, but I believe MissSaul--such a horrid Hebrew name, isn't it--hypnotized him. He forgother almost as soon as she died, in spite of his ridiculous idea ofshutting up that house. And such valuable land as there is at Rextontoo. Well, I hope this violent death of Selina will be a warning toCaranby. Not that I wish him any harm, in spite of your being nextheir to the title, and we do need money. "

While Mrs. Mallow rambled on in this diffusive manner, Cuthbert wasthinking. When she ended, "Why should this death be a warning toCaranby?" he asked quickly. 

"Good gracious, Cuthbert, don't get on my nerves. Why?--because Ibelieve that Selina pushed Miss Saul off that plank and killed her. She was just the kind of violent girl who would do a thing like that. And Miss Saul's relatives have waited all these years to kill Selina, and now she's dead, they will kill Caranby because he did not marry thewretched girl. "

Cuthbert stared. "Mother, what are you talking about? Caranby told methat Miss Saul had only one brother, and that probably he was dead. "

"Ah, " said Mrs. Mallow, "he didn't tell you that Miss Saul's father wasarrested for coining or passing false money, I forget which. I believethe brother was involved also, but I can't be sure. But I only knowthe girl was dead then, and the Saul family did not move in the matter, as the police knew too much about them. 

"Good gracious!" shuddered the lady, "to think if she had lived, Caranby would have married into that family and have cheated you of thetitle. "

"Are you sure of what you say, mother?"

"Of course I am. Look up any old file of newspapers and you'll readall about the matter. It's old history now. But I really won't talkany more of these things, Cuthbert. If I do, there will be no sleepfor me to-night. Oh dear me, such nerves as I have. "

"Did you ever see Miss Saul, mother?"

"I told you I did on the platform. She was a fine, large, big girl, with a hook nose and big black eyes. Rather like Selina and Isabella, for I'm sure they have Jewish blood in their veins. Miss Saul--if thatwas her real name--might have passed as a relative of those horridLoach girls. "

"Mrs. Octagon and her sister who died are certainly much alike. "

"Of course they are, and if Miss Saul had lived they would have been akind of triplets. I hate that style of beauty myself, " said Mrs. Mallow, who was slim and fair, "so coarse. Everyone called those Loachgirls pretty, but I never did myself. I never liked them, and I won'tcall on Mrs. Octagon--such a vulgar name--if you marry fifty of herwretched daughters, Cuthbert. "

"Don't say that, mother. Juliet is an angel!"

"Then she can't be her mother's daughter, " said Mrs. Mallow obscurely, and finished the discussion in what she considered to be a triumphantmanner. Nor would she renew it, though her son tried to learn moreabout the Loach and Saul families. However, he was satisfied with theknowledge he had acquired. 

While returning next day to London, he had ample time to think overwhat he had been told. Miss Selina Loach had certainly shut herself upfor many years in Rose Cottage, and it seemed as though she was afraidof being hurt in some way. Perhaps she even anticipated a violentdeath. And then Mrs. Octagon hinted that she knew who had killed hersister. It might not have been Caranby after all, whom she meant, butone of the Saul family, as Mrs. Mallow suggested. 

"I wonder if it is as my mother thinks, " mused Cuthbert, staring out ofthe window at the panorama of the landscape moving swiftly past. "Perhaps Selina did kill Miss Saul, and shut herself up to avoid beingmurdered by one of the relatives. Caranby said that Selina did not goto the inquest, but pretended she was ill. Then she and her sisterwent to the continent for two years, and finally, when they returned, Selina instead of taking her proper place in society as Isabella did, shut herself up as a recluse in Rose Cottage. The Saul family appear tohave been a bad lot. I should like to look up that coining case. Iwonder if I dare tell Jennings. "

He was doubtful of the wisdom of doing this. If he told what he knew, and set Jennings on the track, it might be that a scandal would ariseimplicating Mrs. Octagon. Not that Cuthbert cared much for her, butshe was Juliet's mother, and he wanted to avert any trouble likely tocause the girl pain. A dozen times on the journey Cuthbert altered hismind. First he thought he would tell Jennings, then he decided to holdhis peace. This indecision was not like him, but the case was soperplexing, and such serious issues were involved, that the young manfelt thoroughly worried. 

Hitherto he had seen nothing new about the case in the papers, but onreaching Swindon he bought a few and looked through them. His searchwas rewarded by finding an article on the crime. The inquest had beenheld, and the jury had brought in a verdict of "Murder against someperson or persons unknown!" But it was plainly stated that the policecould not find a clue to the assassin. The article in question did notpretend to solve the mystery, but collocated the facts so as to put thecase in a nutshell. 

"The facts are these, " said the journal, after a preliminaryintroduction. "A quiet maiden lady living at Rose Cottage, Rexton, received three friends to a card-party. Difference arising--and suchthings will arise amongst the best when cards are in question--two ofthe friends, Mrs. Herne, an old lady and life-long friend of thedeceased, and Mr. Hale, a lawyer of repute and the legal adviser ofMiss Loach, depart before ten o'clock. In her evidence Mrs. Hernestated that she and Mr. Hale left at half-past nine, and her assertionwas corroborated by Mr. Hale himself. Mr. Clancy, the third friend, left at ten, being shown out by the maid Susan Grant, who then returnedto the kitchen. She left Miss Loach seated in her usual chair near thefire, and with a pack of cards on her lap. Probably the deceased ladyintended to play a game of 'Patience'!

"The four servants, three women and a man, had their supper. During thesupper the man asserted that he heard the front door open, but as MissLoach was in the habit of walking in the garden before retiring, it wasthought that she had gone out to take her usual stroll. Whether theman heard the door open or shut he was not quite sure. However, thinking his mistress was walking in the garden as usual, the man paidno further attention to the incident. At eleven (precisely at eleven, for the kitchen clock struck), the sitting-room bell rang. Susan Grantentered the room, and found Miss Loach seated in her chair exactly asshe had left her, even to the fact that the cards were in her lap. Butshe had been stabbed to the heart with some sharp instrument and wasquite dead. The front door was closed and the windows barred. 

"Now it is certain that Miss Loach met her death between the hours often and eleven. Susan Grant saw her alive at ten, seated in her usualchair with the cards on her lap, and at eleven, she there found herdead, still with the cards. It would seem as though immediately afterthe servants left the room someone had stabbed the deceased to theheart, before she had time to rise or even alter her position. ButSusan Grant asserts that no one was in the room. There was only onedoor, out of which she departed. The bedroom of Miss Loach on thebasement floor had a door which opened into the passage, as did thesitting-room door. No one could have entered until the servantdeparted. The passage was lighted with electricity, but she did notobserve anyone about, nor did she hear a sound. She showed out Mr. Clancy and then returned to the kitchen. Certainly the assassin mayhave been concealed in the bedroom and have stolen into thesitting-room when Susan Grant was showing out Mr. Clancy. Perhaps thenhe killed the deceased suddenly, as we said before. He could have thencome up the stairs and have escaped while the servants were at supper. It might have been the murderer who opened the door, and was overheardby Thomas. 

"The policeman was on duty about ten, as he was seen by Susan Grantwhen she showed Mr. Clancy to the door. The policeman also assertedthat he was again on the spot--i. E. , in the roadway opposite thecottage--at eleven. At these times the assassin could not have escapedwithout being seen. There is no exit at the back, as a high wallrunning round an unfinished house belonging to the eccentric LordCaranby blocks the way. Therefore the assassin must have ventured intothe roadway. He could then have walked up the lane into the mainstreets of Rexton, or have taken a path opposite to the gate of RoseCottage, which leads to the railway station. Probably, after executingthe crime, he took this latter way. The path runs between quicksethedges, rather high, for a long distance, past houses, and ends withinfifty yards of the railway station. The criminal could take the firsttrain and get to town, there to lose himself in the wilderness ofLondon. 

"So far so good. But the strangest thing about this most mysteriousaffair is that the bell in the sitting-room rang two minutes beforeSusan Grant entered the room to find her mistress dead. This was sometime after the closing of the door overheard by Thomas; therefore theassassin could not have escaped that way. Moreover, by this time thepoliceman was standing blocking the pathway to the station. Again, thealarm was given immediately by the other servants, who rushed to thesitting-room on hearing Susan's scream, and the policeman at oncesearched the house. No one was found. 

"Now what are we to make of all this? The doctor declares that MissLoach when discovered had been dead half an hour, which correspondswith the time the door was heard to open or shut by Thomas. So far, itwould seem that the assassin had escaped then, having committed thecrime and found the coast inside and outside the house clear for hisflight. But who rang the bell? That is the question we ask. Thedeceased could not have done so, as, according to the doctor, the poorlady must have died immediately. Again, the assassin would not havebeen so foolish as to ring and thus draw attention to his crime, letting alone the question that he could not have escaped at that latehour. We can only offer this solution. 

"The assassin must have been concealed in the bedroom, and after Susanascended the stairs to let Mr. Clancy out, he must have stolen into thesitting-room and have killed the old lady before she could even rise. She might have touched the bell, and the button (the bell is anelectric one) may have got fixed. Later on, the heat of the room, warping the wood round the ivory button, may have caused it to slipout, and thus the bell would have rung. Of course our readers may saythat when pressed down the bell would have rung continuously, but anexamination has revealed that the wires were out of order. It is notimprobable that the sudden release of the button may have touched thewires and have set them ringing. The peal is described as being shortand sharp. This theory is a weak one, we are aware, but the whole caseis so mysterious that, weak as it is, we can offer no other solution. 

"Mrs. Herne, the servants, and Messrs. Hale and Clancy were examined. All insist that Miss Loach was in her usual health and spirits, and hadno idea of committing suicide, or of being in any danger of suddendeath. The weapon cannot be discovered, nor the means--save as wesuggest above--whereby the assassin can have made his escape. Thewhole affair is one of the most mysterious of late years, and willdoubtless be relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes. The policehave no clue, and apparently despair of finding one. But the discoveryof the mystery lies in the bell. Who rang it? or did it ring ofitself, as we suggest above. "

Cuthbert laid down the paper with a shrug. The article did not commenditself to him, save as the means of making a precis of the case. Thetheory of the bell appeared excessively weak, and he could notunderstand a man being so foolish as to put it forward. 

"If the button was pressed down by Miss Loach, the bell would have rungat once, " argued Cuthbert; "and when it slipped up, even with the heat, the ringing would have stopped. But the bell rang at eleven, and thegirl was in the room two minutes later. Someone must have rung it. But why did someone do this, and how did someone escape after ringingin so fool-hardy a manner?"

He could not find an answer to this question. The whole case wasindeed most perplexing. There seemed absolutely no answer to theriddle. Even supposing Miss Loach had been murdered out of along-delayed revenge by a member of the Saul family--and that theoryappeared ridiculous to Mallow--the question was how did the assassinescape? Certainly, having regard to the cards still being on the lapof the deceased, and the closing of the door at a time when thepoliceman was not in the vicinity, the assassin may have escaped inthat way. But how did he come to be hidden in the bedroom, and how didhe kill the old lady before she had time to call out or even rise, seeing that he had the whole length of the room to cross beforereaching her? And again, the escape of the assassin at this hour didnot explain the ringing of the bell. Cuthbert was deeply interested, and wondered if the mystery would ever be solved. "I must see Jenningsafter all, " he thought as the train steamed into Paddington. 

And see Jennings he did, sooner than he expected. That same eveningwhen he was dressing to go out, a card was brought. It was inscribed"Miles Jennings. " Rather surprised that the detective should seek himout so promptly, Cuthbert entered his sitting-room. Jennings, who wasstanding with his back to the window, saluted him with a pleasantsmile, and spoke to him as to an equal. Of course he had every rightto do so since he had been at school with Mallow, but somehow thefamiliarity irritated Cuthbert. 

"Well, Jennings, what is it?"

"I came to ask you a few questions, Mallow. "

"About what?"

"About the murder at Rose Cottage. "

"But, my dear fellow, I know nothing about it. "

"You knew Miss Loach?"

"Yes. I saw her once or twice. But I did not like her. "

"She is the aunt of the young lady you are engaged to marry?"

Mallow drew himself up stiffly. "As a matter of fact she is, " he saidwith marked coldness. "But I don't see--"

"You will in a minute, " said Jennings briskly. "Pardon me, but areyou in love with another woman?"

Mallow grew red. "What the devil do you mean by coming here to ask mesuch a question?" he demanded. 

"Gently, Mallow, I am your friend, and you may need one. "

"What do you mean. Do you accuse me of--"

"I accuse you of nothing, " said Jennings quickly, "but I ask you, whydid you give this photograph, with an inscription, to the servant ofthe murdered woman. "

"I recognize my photograph, but the servant--"

"Susan Grant. The picture was found in her possession. She refuses tospeak, " here the detective spoke lower, "in case you get into troublewith the police. "

CHAPTER VII

THE DETECTIVE

The two men looked at one another, Jennings searchingly, and Cuthbertwith a look of mingled amazement and indignation. They were rather likein looks, both being tall, slim and fair-haired. But Mallow wore amustache, whereas the detective, possibly for the sake of disguisinghimself on occasions, was clean-shaven. But although Jennings'profession was scarcely that of a gentleman, he looked well-bred, andwas dressed with the same quiet taste and refinement as characterizedMallow. The public-school stamp was on both, and they might have beena couple of young men about town discussing sport rather than anofficer of the law and a man who (it seemed from Jennings' hints) wassuspected of complicity in a crime. 

"Do you mean this for a jest?" said Cuthbert at length. 

"I never jest on matters connected with my profession, Mallow. It istoo serious a one. "

"Naturally. It so often involves the issues of life and death. "

"In this case I hope it does not, " said Jennings, significantly. 

Cuthbert, who was recovering his composure, sat down with a shrug. "Iassure you, you have found a mare's nest this time. Whatever my folliesmay have been, I am not a criminal. "

"I never thought you were, " rejoined the other, also taking a seat, "but you may have become involved with people who are criminals. "

"I dare say half of those one meets in society are worthy of jail, didone know what is done under the rose, " returned Cuthbert; "by the way, how did you come so opportunely?"

"I knew you had gone out of town, as I came a few days ago to see youabout this matter, and inquired. Your servant said you were inDevonshire--"

"I went to see my mother who was ill, " said Mallow quickly. 

"I guessed as much. You said something about your mother living inExeter when we met last. Well, I had Paddington watch for your return, and my messenger--"

"Your spy, you mean, " said Mallow angrily. 

"Certainly, if you prefer the term. Well, your spy--I mean my spy, reported that you were back, so I came on here. Are you going out?"

"I was, but if you wish to arrest me--"

"Nonsense, man. I have only come to have a quiet chat with you. Believe me, I wish you well. I have not forgotten the old Eton days. "

"I tell you what, Jennings, I won't stand this talk from any man. Areyou here as a gentleman or as a detective?"

"As both, I hope, " replied the other dryly, "but are we not wastingvaluable time? If you wish to go out this evening, the sooner we getto business the better. Will you answer my questions?"

"I must know what they are first, " said Cuthbert defiantly. 

Jennings looked irritated. "If you won't treat me properly, I may aswell leave the matter alone, " he said coldly. "My position is quiteunpleasant enough as it is. I came here to an old schoolfellow as afriend--"

"To try and implicate him in a crime. Thanks for nothing. "

Jennings, whose patience appeared to be exhausted, rose. "Very well, then, Mallow. I shall go away and hand over the matter to someoneelse. I assure you the questions must be answered. "

Cuthbert made a sign to the other to be seated, which Jennings seemedby no means inclined to obey. He stood stiffly by his chair as Mallowpaced the room reflectively. "After all, I don't see why we shouldquarrel, " said the latter at length. 

"That's just what I've been driving at for the last ten minutes. "

"Very good, " said Mallow soothingly, "let us sit down and smoke. Ihave no particular engagement, and if you will have some coffee--"

"I will have both cigarette and coffee if you will help me to unravelthis case, " said Jennings, sitting down with a smoother brow. 

"But I don't see what I can--"

"You'll see shortly. Will you be open with me?"

"That requires reflection. "

"Reflect as long as you like. But if you decline, I will hand the caseover to the next man on the Scotland Yard list. He may not deal withyou so gently. "

"I don't care how he deals with me, " returned Mallow, haughtily;"having done no wrong, I am not afraid. And, what is more, Jennings, Iwas coming to see you as soon as I returned. You have only forestalledour interview. "

"What did you wish to see me about?"

"This case, " said Cuthbert, getting out a box of cigarettes andtouching the bell. "The deuce!" said Jennings briskly, "then you doknow something?"

Cuthbert handed him the box and gave an order for coffee. "Anyliqueur?" he asked in friendly tones. 

"No. I never drink when on--ah--er--pleasure, " said the other, substituting another word since the servant was in the room. "Well, "he asked when the door closed, "why did you wish to see me?"

"To ask if you remember a coining case that took place some twentyyears ago?"

"No. That was before my time. What case is it?"

"Some people called Saul were mixed up in it. "

"Humph! Never heard of them, " said Jennings, lighting his cigarette, "but it is strange you should talk of coining. I and several otherfellows are looking for a set of coiners now. There are a lot of falsecoins circulating, and they are marvellously made. If I can only laymy hands on the coiners and their factory, there will be a sensation. "

"And your reputation will be enhanced. "

"I hope so, " replied the detective, reddening. "I want a rise in mysalary, as I wish to marry. By the way, how is Miss Saxon?"

"Very well. You met her, did you not?"

"Yes! You took me to that queer house. What do they call it?the--'Shrine of the Muses'--where all the sham art exists. Why do youlook so grave, old boy?"

The two men, getting more confidential, were dropping into the languageof school-days and speaking more familiarly. Mallow did not reply atonce, as his servant had just brought in the coffee. But when eachgentleman was supplied with a cup and they were again alone, he lookedgravely at Miles. "I want to ask your advice, " he said, "and if youare my friend--"

"I am, of course I am. "

"Well, then, I am as interested in finding out who killed Miss Loach asyou are. "

"Why is that?" demanded Jennings, puzzled. 

"Before I answer and make a clean breast of it, I should like you topromise that you will get no one I know into trouble. "

Jennings hesitated. "That is a difficult matter. Of course, if I findthe assassin, even if he or she is one of your friends, I must do myduty. "

"Oh, I don't expect anything of that sort, " said Mallow easily, "butwhy do you say 'he' or 'she'?"

"Well, the person who killed Miss Loach might be a woman. "

"I don't see how you make that out, " said Cuthbert reflectively. "Iread the case coming up in the train to-day, and it seems to me fromwhat The Planet says that the whole thing is a mystery. "

"One which I mean to dive into and discover, " replied Miles. "I do notcare for an ordinary murder case, but this is one after my own heart. It is a criminal problem which I should like to work out. "

"Do you see your way as yet?" asked Cuthbert. 

"No, " confessed Jennings, "I do not. I saw the report you speak of. The writer theorizes without having facts to go on. What he says aboutthe bell is absurd. All the same, the bell did ring and the assassincould not have escaped at the time it sounded. Nor could the deceasedhave rung it. Therein lies the mystery, and I can't guess how thebusiness was managed. "

"Do you believe the assassin rang the bell?"

Miles shrugged his shoulders and sipped his coffee. "It is impossibleto say. I will wait until I have more facts before me before I venturean opinion. It is only in detective novels that the heaven-born Vidocqcan guess the truth on a few stray clues. But what were you going totell me?"

"Will you keep what I say to yourself?"

"Yes, " said Jennings, readily enough, "so long as it doesn't mean theescape of the person who is guilty. "

"I don't ask you to betray the confidence placed in you by theauthorities to that extent, " said Mallow, "just wait a moment. "

He leaned his chin on his hand and thought. If he wished to gain thehand of Juliet, it was necessary he should clear up the mystery of thedeath. Unaided, he could not do so, but with the assistance of his oldschoolfellow--following his lead in fact--he might get at the truth. Then, when the name of the assassin of her sister was known, the reasonof Mrs. Octagon's strange behavior might be learned, and, moreover, thediscovery might remove her objection. On the other hand, Cuthbertcould not help feeling uneasy, lest Mrs. Octagon had some secretconnected with the death which made her refuse her consent to thematch, and which, if he explained to Jennings what he knew, mightbecome known in a quarter which she might not approve of. However, Mallow was certain that, in spite of Mrs. Octagon's hint, his uncle hadnothing to do with the matter, and he had already warned her--althoughshe refused to listen--that he intended to trace the assassin. Underthese circumstances, and also because Jennings was his friend and morelikely to aid him, than get anyone he knew and respected into trouble, the young man made up his mind to tell everything. 

"The fact is, I am engaged to Juliet Saxon, " he began, hesitatingly. 

"I know that. She is the daughter of that absurd Mrs. Octagon, withthe meek husband and the fine opinion of herself. "

"Yes. But Juliet is the niece of Miss Loach. "

"What!" Jennings sprang from his chair with a look of surprise; "do youmean to tell me that Mrs. Octagon is Miss Loach's sister. "

"I do. They quarrelled many years ago, and have not been friendly foryears. Mrs. Octagon would never go and see her sister, but she did notforbid her children being friendly. As you may guess, Mrs. Octagon ismuch distressed about the murder, but the strange thing is that shedeclares this death renders it impossible for me to marry her daughter. "

Jennings looked searchingly at his friend. "That is strange. Does shegive no reason?"

"No. But knowing my uncle knew her when she was a girl, I thought Iwould ask him what he thought. He told me that he had once beenengaged to Miss Loach, and--"

"Well, go on, " said Miles, seeing Cuthbert hesitating. 

"There was another lady in the case. "

"There usually is, " said Jennings dryly. "Well?"

"The other lady's name was Saul--Emilia Saul. "

"Oh, " Miles sat down again. He had remained standing for a fewmoments. "Saul was the name you mentioned in connection with thecoining case of twenty years ago. "

Cuthbert nodded, and now, being fully convinced that he badly neededJennings' aid, he told all that he had heard from Caranby, and detailedwhat his mother had said. Also, he touched on the speech of Mrs. Octagon, and repeated the warning he had given her. Miles listenedquietly, but made no remark till his friend finished. 

"You have told me all you know?" he asked. 

"Yes. I want you to help me. Not that I think what I have learned hasanything to do with the case. "

"I'm not so sure of that, " said Jennings musingly, his eyes on thecarpet. "Mrs. Octagon bases her refusal to allow the marriage on thefact of the death. However, you have warned her, and she must take theconsequence. "

"But, my dear Jennings, you don't think she has anything to do with thematter. I assure you she is a good, kind woman--"

"With a violent temper, according to your mother, " finished Jenningsdryly. "However, don't alarm yourself. I don't think she is guilty. "

"I should think not, " cried Mallow, indignantly. "Juliet's mother!"

"But she may have something to do with the matter all the same. However, you have been plain with me, and I will do all I can to helpyou. The first thing is for us to follow up the clue of the portrait. "

"Ah, yes! I had quite forgotten that, " said Mallow, casting a look onthe photograph which lay near at hand. "Just pass it, will you. "

Miles did so. "You say you recognize it, " he said. 

"I recognize my own face. I had several portraits done like this. Ithink this one--" Mallow looked at the inscription which he read forthe first time, and his face grew pale. 

"What is it?" asked Miles eagerly. 

"I don't know, " faltered the other uneasily. 

"You recognize the inscription?"

"Yes, I certainly wrote that. "

"It is quite a tender inscription, " said Miles, his eyes on thedisturbed face of the other. "'With my dear love, ' it reads. "

Cuthbert laid down the portrait and nodded. "Yes! That is theinscription, " he said in low tones, and his eyes sought the carpet. 

"You wrote that to a servant. "

"What servant?"

"The new parlor-maid engaged by Miss Loach on the day of herdeath--Susan Grant. "

"I remember the name. I saw it in the papers. "

"Do you know the girl well?" asked Jennings. 

"I don't know her at all. "

"Come now. A man doesn't give a portrait with such an inscription toany unknown girl, nor to one he is not in love with. "

"Jennings, " cried Mallow indignantly, "how can you think--" his voicedied away and he clenched his hands. 

"What am I to think then?" demanded the detective. 

"What you like. "

"That you love this Susan Grant?"

"I tell you I never set eyes on her, " said Cuthbert violently. 

"Then how does she come into possession of your portrait?" asked theother. Then seeing that Mallow refused to speak, he laid a persuasivehand on his shoulder. "You must speak out, " he said quickly, "you havetold me so much you must tell me all. Matters can't stand as they are. No, " here Jennings looked straight into Mallow's eyes, "you did notgive that portrait to Susan Grant. "

"I never said so. "

"Don't be an ass, Mallow. You say you don't know the girl, thereforeyou can hardly have given her the photograph. Now the inscriptionshows that it was given to a woman you are in love with. You told mewhen you introduced me to Miss Saxon that she was the only woman youever loved. Therefore you gave this portrait with its tenderinscription to her. "

"I--I can't say. "

"You mean you won't trust me, " said Jennings. 

Cuthbert rose quickly and flung off his friend's arm. "I wish toHeaven I had never opened my mouth to you, " he said. 

"My dear fellow, you should show more confidence in me. I know quitewell why you won't acknowledge that you gave this photograph to MissSaxon. You think it will implicate her in the matter. "

"Jennings!" cried Cuthbert, his face growing red and fierce. 

"Wait a moment, " resumed the other calmly and without flinching. "Ican explain. You gave the photograph to Miss Saxon. She gave it toMiss Loach, and Susan Grant falling in love with your face, tookpossession of it. It was found in her trunk. "

"Yes--yes, that's it!" cried Mallow, catching at a straw. "I did givethe photograph to Juliet, and no doubt she gave it to her aunt. Itwould be easy for this girl to take it. Though why she should stealit, " said Cuthbert perplexed, "I really can't say!"

"You don't know her?" asked Jennings. 

"No. Really, I don't. The name is quite unknown to me. What is thegirl like in appearance?" Jennings described Susan to the best of hisability, but Cuthbert shook his head. "No, I never saw her. You sayshe had this photograph in her trunk?" Then, on receiving anaffirmative reply, "She may have found it lying about and have takenit, though why she should I can't say. "

"So you said before, " said Jennings dryly. "But strange as it mayappear, Mallow, this girl is in love with you. "

"How do you know that?"

"Well, you see, " said Miles, slowly. "After the murder I searched theboxes of the servants in the house for the weapon. "

"But there was no danger of them being accused?"

"No. Nor would I have searched their boxes had they not insisted. Butthey were all so afraid of being accused, that they wished to exoneratethemselves as much as possible. The fact that the whole four were inthe kitchen together at the time the crime was committed quite clearsthem. However, they insisted, so I looked into their boxes. I foundthis photograph in the box of the new housemaid. She refused to statehow it came into her possession, and became so red, and wept so much, that I soon saw that she loved you. "

"But I tell you it's ridiculous. I don't know the girl--and a servant, too. Pshaw!"

"Well, then, I must get her to see you, and possibly some explanationmay be made. I took possession of the photograph--"

"Why? On what grounds should my photograph interest you, Jennings?"

"On the grounds that you are a friend of mine, and that I knew yourface the moment I saw it. I naturally asked the girl how it came intoher possession, as I know your tastes don't lie in the way of prettyparlor-maids, however attractive. It was her reply which made me takethe portrait and come to ask you for an explanation. "

"What reply did she make?" demanded Cuthbert, exasperated by the falseposition he was placed in. 

"She said that she would explain nothing in case you should get intotrouble with the police. Can you explain that?"

"No, " said Mallow, perplexed. "I really cannot be responsible for thevagaries of a parlor-maid. I don't know the name Susan Grant, and fromyour description of her appearance, I never set eyes on her. I amquite sure your explanation is the correct one. Juliet gave it to heraunt, and for some ridiculous reason this girl stole it. "

"But her remark about the police. "

Mallow made a gesture of helplessness, and leaned his elbow on themantelpiece. "I can't guess what she means. Well, what will you donow, Jennings?"

"First, I shall get the girl to come here and see you. Then I shallask Miss Saxon why she gave the photograph to Miss Loach. You were nota favorite with the old lady, I gather. "

"On the contrary, she liked me much more than I did her. "

"You see. She liked you so much that she insisted on having yourphotograph. I must ask Miss Saxon when she gave it. Will you let mebring this girl to see you to-morrow?"

"Certainly. But it's all very unpleasant. "

The detective rose to go. "Most matters connected with a crime are, mydear fellow, " said he calmly. "I only hope there will not be any moreunpleasantness. "

"What do you mean?"

"I can't say what I mean--yet. "

"You are mysterious, Jennings. "

"I am perplexed. I don't seem to advance. However, I intend to followup the clue of your photograph, though if the explanation I suggest isthe true one, there's nothing more to be said. But the girl, SusanGrant, has not the look of a thief. "

"That means, I gave her the photograph, " said Cuthbert haughtily. 

"Not necessarily, " rejoined Jennings, putting on his overcoat. "But Iwill not theorize any more. Wait till I confront the girl with you ina few days. Then we may force her to speak. "

Cuthbert shrugged his shoulders. "As you please. But I really am at aloss to think what she will say. "

"So am I, " said Jennings, as they walked to the door. "That is why Iam anxious to see her and you together. And, after all, I may havefound only a mare's nest. "

"You certainly have so far as I am concerned. By the way, when is thebody to be buried?"

"The day after to-morrow. Then the will has to be read. I hope theold lady will leave you some money, Mallow. She was reported to berich. Oh, by the way, I'll look up that Saul coining case you speakof. "

"Why?" asked Mallow, bluntly and uneasily. 

"It may have some bearing on this matter. Only in the past will wefind the truth. And Miss Selina Loach certainly knew Miss Saul. "

As Jennings departed the postman came up the stairs with the lateletters. Cuthbert found one from Juliet and opened it at once. Itcontained one line--

"Don't see the police about aunt's death--JULIET. "

Cuthbert Mallow slept very badly that night. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

The most obvious thing for Cuthbert to do was to seek Juliet and askfor an explanation of her mysterious note. He went to the "Shrine ofthe Muses" the very next day, but was informed that Miss Saxon and hermother had gone out of town and would not be back for a few days. Hecould not learn where they were, and was leaving the house somewhatdisconsolately when he met Basil. 

"You here, Mallow, " said that young gentleman, stopping short, "haveyou been to see my mother?"

"I went to see Juliet, " replied Cuthbert, not sorry that the meetinghad taken place, "but I hear she is out of town. "

"Well, not exactly. The fact is, she and my mother have gone down toRose Cottage and intend to stop there until the funeral is over and thewill is read. "

"The will?" echoed Mallow. 

"Yes. Aunt Selina is likely to leave a great deal of money. I expectit will all go to Juliet. She never liked me. "

"Yet you were frequently at her house. "

"I was, " confessed Basil candidly. "I tried to make myself as civil aspossible, so that she might remember me. Between ourselves, Mallow, Iam deuced hard up. My mother hasn't much money, I have none of my own, and old Octagon is as stingy as he well can be. "

This sounded well coming from an idler who never did a stroke of work, and who lived on the charity of his step-father. But Basil hadpeculiar views as to money. He considered himself a genius, and thatPeter should be proud to support him until, as he phrased it, he had"stamped his name on the age"! But the stamping took a long time, andBasil troubled himself very little about the matter. He remarked thatgenius should not be forced, and loafed away the greater portion of hisdays. His mother kept him in pocket-money and clothes, Peter suppliedboard and lodging, and Basil got through life very pleasantly. Hewished to be famous, to have his name in every mouth and his portraitin every paper; but the work that was necessary to obtain thesedesirable things he was unwilling to do. Cuthbert knew that the youngfellow had been "born tired"! and although something of an idlerhimself, liked Basil none the more for his laziness. Had Mallow beenpoor he would certainly have earned his bread, but he had a good incomeand did not work. And, after all, he only pursued the way of life inwhich he had been brought up. But Basil was poor and had his career tomake, therefore he certainly should have labored. However, forJuliet's sake, Cuthbert was as polite as possible. 

"If I were you, Saxon, I should leave cards alone, " said Mallow. 

"Nonsense! I don't play high. Besides, I have seen you at Maraquito'salso losing a lot. "

"I can afford to lose, " said Cuthbert dryly, "you can't. "

"No, by Jove, you're right there. But don't preach, Mallow, you ain'tsuch a saint yourself. "

"Can I help you with a cheque?"

Basil had good breeding enough to color. 

"No! I didn't explain myself for that, " he said coldly, "and besides, if Juliet comes in for Aunt Selina's money, I'll get some. Juliet andI always share. "

This meant that Juliet was to give the money and Basil to spend it. Mallow was disgusted with this candid selfishness. However, he did notwish to quarrel with Basil, as he knew Juliet was fond of him, andmoreover, in the present state of affairs, he was anxious to haveanother friend besides Mr. Octagon in the house. "Perhaps Miss Loachmay have left you some money after all, " he remarked. 

"By Jove, I hope so. I'll be in a hole if she has not. There's abill--" here he stopped, as though conscious of having said too much. "But that will come into Juliet's possession, " he murmured. 

"What's that?" asked Cuthbert sharply. 

"Nothing--nothing--only a tailor's bill. As to getting money by thewill, don't you know I quarrelled with Aunt Selina a week before herdeath. Yes, she turned me out of the house. " Here Basil's faceassumed what may be described as an ugly look. "I should like to havegot even with the old cat. She insulted me. "

"Gently, old fellow, " said Mallow, seeing that Basil was losing histemper, and having occasionally seen him in fits of uncontrollablepassion, "we're in the public street. "

Basil's brow cleared. "All right, " he said, "don't bother, I'll be allright when Juliet gets the money. By the way, mother tells me you arenot going to marry her. "

"Your mother is mistaken, " rejoined Mallow gravely. "Juliet and I arestill engaged. I do not intend to give her up. "

"I told mother you would not give in easily, " said Basil, frowning, "but you can't marry Juliet. "

"Why not?" asked Cuthbert sharply; "do you know the reason?"

Basil appeared about to say something, then suddenly closed his mouthand shook his head. 

Cuthbert pressed him. "If you know the reason, tell me, " he said, "andI'll help you out of your difficulties. You know I love Juliet, andyour mother does not seem to have any excuse to forbid the marriage. "

"I would help you if I could, but I can't. You had better ask Julietherself. She may tell you the reason. "

"How can I find her?"

"Go down to Rose Cottage and ask to see her, " suggested Basil. 

"Your mother will not admit me. "

"That's true enough. Well, I'll tell you what, Mallow, I'll speak toJuliet and get her to make an appointment to see you. "

"I could write and ask her for one myself. "

"Oh, no, you couldn't. Mother will intercept all letters. "

"Upon my word--" began Mallow angrily, then stopped. It was useless toshow his wrath before this silly boy, who could do no good and might doa deal of harm. "Very well, then, " he said more mildly, "ask Juliet tomeet me on the other side of Rexton, under the wall which runs roundthe unfinished house. "

Basil started. "Why that place?" he asked nervously. 

"It is as good as any other. "

"You can't get inside. "

"That's true enough. But we can meet outside. I have been insidethough, and I made a mess of myself climbing the wall. "

"You were inside, " began Basil, then suddenly appeared relieved. "Iremember; you were there on the day after Aunt Selina was killed. "

"I have been there before that, " said Cuthbert, wondering why the youngman avoided his eye in so nervous a manner. 

"Not at--at night?" murmured Saxon, looking away. 

"Once I was there at night. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing. I was just thinking it's a wild place in whichto find one's self at night. By the way, " added Basil, as thoughanxious to change a disagreeable subject, "do you think Jarvey Hale anice fellow?"

"No, I don't. I have met him at Maraquito's, and I don't like him. He's a bounder. Moreover, a respectable lawyer has no right to gambleto the extent he does. I wonder Miss Loach trusted him. "

"Perhaps she didn't know of his gambling, " said Basil, his eyeswandering everywhere but to the face of his companion; "but, should youthink Hale would be hard on a fellow?"

"Yes, I should. Do you owe him money?"

"A few pounds. He won't give me time to pay. And I say, Mallow, Isuppose all Aunt Selina's affairs will be left in Hale's hands?"

"I can't say. It depends upon the will. If everything is left toJuliet, unconditionally, she may take her affairs out of Hale's hands. I should certainly advise her to do so. He's too intimate withMaraquito and her gambling salon to be a decent lawyer. "

"You do seem down on gambling, " said Basil, "yet you gamble yourself alot. But I expect Juliet will change her lawyer. I hope she will. "

"Why?" asked Cuthbert sharply. 

"Oh, " replied Basil, confused, "because I agree with you. A gamblerwill not make a good lawyer--or a good husband either, " he added in anabrupt tone. "Good-day. I'll tell Juliet, " and he was off beforeMallow could find words to answer his last remark. 

Cuthbert, walking back to his rooms, wondered if it was on account ofthe gambling that Mrs. Octagon objected to the marriage. He really didnot gamble much, but occasionally he dropped into Maraquito's house, and there lost or won a few pounds. Here he had often met Basil, andwithout doubt the young man had told his mother. But he could hardlydo this without incriminating himself. All the same, Basil was athorough liar, and a confirmed tattler. He might have blackenedMallow's character, and yet have told a story to exonerate himself. His friendship appeared feigned, and Cuthbert doubted if he wouldreally tell Juliet of the appointment. 

"That young man's in trouble, " thought Mallow, "he is anxious aboutHale, and I shouldn't wonder if that respectable person had lent him alarge sum of money. Probably he counts on getting the money fromJuliet, should she inherit the fortune of Miss Loach. Also he seemsannoyed that I should have been in Caranby's unfinished house at night. I wonder what he would say if he knew my reason for going there. Humph! I must keep that quiet. The only person I dare tell is Juliet;but I can't speak to her about the matter just yet. And after all, there is no need to mention my visit. It does not concern her in theleast. I wonder, " here Cuthbert stopped, struck with an idea. "ByGeorge! can it be that Basil was near Rose Cottage on the night thecrime was committed? Juliet may know that, and so, fearful lest heshould be accused of the murder, asked me to stop proceedings. CanBasil Saxon be guilty? No, " Mallow shook his head and resumed hiswalk, "he has not pluck enough to kill a fly. "

After this he dismissed the matter from his thoughts and waitedexpectant of a letter from Juliet. None came, and he was convincedthat Basil had not delivered the message. This being the case, Cuthbert determined to act for himself, and one afternoon went down toRexton. That same evening he had an appointment with Jennings, who wasto bring Susan Grant to Mallow's rooms. But the young man quiteexpected to be back in time to keep the appointment, and meantime hespent an hour wandering round Rexton in the vicinity of Rose Cottage. But afraid lest Mrs. Octagon should see him and keep Juliet withindoors, he abstained from passing in front of the house and waited onthe path which led to the station. 

While watching the cottage, a young woman came along the path. She wasneatly dressed and looked like a servant. Cuthbert pressed himselfagainst the quickset hedge to allow her to pass, as there was verylittle room. The girl started as she murmured her thanks, and grewcrimson on seeing his face. Cuthbert, not thinking, gave a passingthought to her looks and wondered why she had blushed. But when he sawher enter the gate of Rose Cottage--she looked back twice--he recalledthe description of Jennings. 

"By George!" he thought, "that was Susan Grant. I wish I had spoken toher. I wonder why she blushed. She can't be in love with me, as Inever saw her before. All the same, it is strange about the portrait. "

It was now about four o'clock, and Cuthbert fancied that after all itwould be best to boldly ring at the door and ask admission, in spite ofMrs. Octagon. 

But while hesitating to risk all his chances of seeing Juliet on onethrow of fortune's dice, the matter was decided for him by theappearance of Juliet herself. She came out of the gate and walkeddirectly towards the path. It would seem as though she expected tofind Cuthbert, for she walked straight up to him and caught his hand. There was no one about to see their meeting, but Juliet was notdisposed to behave tenderly. 

"Why are you here?" she asked. "Susan Grant told me you--"

"Susan Grant!" echoed Cuthbert, resolved not to know too much in thepresence of Juliet. "I saw her name in the papers. How does she knowme?"

"I can't say, " said Juliet quickly; "come along this way. " She hurriedalong the narrow path, talking all the time. "She came in just now andsaid you were waiting in the by-path. I came out at once. I don'twant my mother to see you. "

"Really!" cried Cuthbert, rather nettled. "I don't see that I have anyreason to avoid Mrs. Octagon. "

"She will not allow me to see you. If she knew I was meeting you shewould be very angry. We are here only till to-morrow. Now that AuntSelina is buried and the will read, we return to Kensington at once. Come this way. Let us get into the open. I don't wish my mother tofollow and find me speaking to you. "

They emerged into a waste piece of land, distant a stone-throw from therailway station, but secluded by reason of many trees and shrubs. These, belonging to the old Rexton estate, had not yet been rooted upby the builder, and there ran a path through the heart of the miniaturewood leading to the station. When quite screened from observation bythe friendly leafage, Juliet turned quickly. She was pale and ill inlooks, and there were dark circles under her eyes which told ofsleepless nights. But she was dressed with her usual care and behavedin a composed manner. 

"I wish you had not come, Cuthbert, " she said, again taking his hand, "at least not at present. Later on--"

"I wanted to see you at once, " said Mallow, determinedly. "Did notBasil tell you so?"

Juliet shook her head. "He said he met you the other day, but gave meno message. "

"Then he is not the friend I took him to be, " said Mallow angrily. 

"Don't be angry with Basil, " said Juliet, gently. "The poor boy hasquite enough trouble. "

"Of his own making, " finished Cuthbert, thoroughly annoyed. "See here, Juliet, this sort of thing can't go on. I have done nothing to warrantmy being treated like this. Your mother is mad to behave as she isdoing. I insist on an explanation. "

Juliet did not pay attention to this hasty speech. "How do you knowBasil has troubles?" she asked hurriedly. 

"Because I know he's a dissipated young ass, " returned Mallow roughly;"and I daresay you know it also. "

"Do you allude to his playing cards?" she asked quickly. 

"Yes. He has no right to tell you these things. But I know he is indebt to Hale--he hinted as much the other day. I would say nothing ofthis to you, but that I know he counts on your paying his debts. Itell you, Juliet, it is wrong for you to do so. "

"How do you know I can?" she asked. 

"I know nothing, " said Cuthbert doggedly, "not even if you haveinherited the money of Miss Loach. "

"I have inherited it. She left everything to me, save legacies toThomas her servant, and to Emily Pill, the cook. It is a large fortune. The will was read on the day of the funeral. I have now six thousand ayear. "

"So much as that? How did your aunt make such a lot of money?"

"Mr. Hale speculated a great deal on her account, and, he is verylucky. At least so he told me. But the money is well invested andthere are no restrictions. I can easily pay the few debts Basil owes, poor boy. You are too hard on him. "

"Perhaps I am. But he is so foolish, and he doesn't like me. I believehe puts you against me, Juliet. "

The girl threw her arms round his neck. "Nothing in the world wouldever put me against you, Cuthbert, " she whispered vehemently. "I loveyou--I love you--with all my heart and soul, with every fibre of mybeing do I love you. I don't care what mother says, I love you. "

"Well, then, " said Cuthbert, between kisses, "since you are now richand your own mistress--not that I care about the money--why not marryme at once?"

Juliet drew back, and her eyes dilated with fear. "I dare not--I darenot, " she whispered. "You don't know what you ask. "

"Yes I do. Juliet, what is all this mystery about? I could notunderstand the meaning of your letter. "

"Did you do what I asked?" she panted. 

"It was too late. I had told Jennings the detective all I knew. "

"You were not afraid?"

"Afraid!" echoed Cuthbert, opening his eyes. "What do you mean?"

She looked into his eyes. "No, " she said to herself, "he is notafraid. "

Cuthbert lost his temper. "I don't understand all this, " he declared, "if you would only speak out. But I can guess why you wish me to stopthe proceedings--you fear for Basil!"

She stepped back a pace. "For Basil?"

"Yes. From what he hinted the other day I believe he was about thisplace on the night of the--"

"Where are your proofs?" she gasped, recoiling. 

"I have none. I am only speaking on chance. But Basil is in monetarydifficulties--he is in debt to Hale--he counted on you inheriting themoney of Miss Loach to pay his debts. He--"

"Stop! stop!" cried Juliet, the blood rising to her face, "this is onlysupposition. You can prove nothing. "

"Then why do you wish me to hold my tongue?"

"There is nothing for you to hold your tongue about, " she answeredevasively. "You know nothing. "

Cuthbert caught her hands and looked into her troubled eyes. "Do you, Juliet--do you? Put an end to this mystery and speak out. "

She broke from him and fled. "No, " she cried, "for your sake I keepsilent. For your own sake stop the action of the detective. "

CHAPTER IX

ANOTHER MYSTERY

When Jennings arrived that evening according to appointment, he foundMallow in a state of desperation. Juliet's conduct perplexed the youngman to such an extent that he felt as though on the point of losing hisreason. He was quite delighted when he saw Jennings and thus hadsomeone with a clear head in whom to confide. 

"What's the matter?" asked Jennings, who at once saw that something waswrong from Cuthbert's anxious face. 

"Nothing, save that I am being driven out of my senses. I am glad youhave come, Jennings. Things are getting more mysterious every day. Iam determined to get to the bottom of this murder case if only for myown peace of mind. I am with you heart and soul. I have the detectivefever with a vengeance. You can count on my assistance in every way. "

"All right, my dear chap, " said the other soothingly, "sit down and letus have a quiet talk before this girl arrives. "

"Susan Grant. I saw her to-day. "

"Did you speak to her?"

"No. I only guessed that she was the girl you talked about from yourdescription and from the fact that she entered Rose Cottage. "

"Ah, " said Jennings, taking a seat, "so you have been down there?"

"Yes. I'll tell you all about it. I don't know if I'm sane or insane, Jennings. When does this girl arrive?"

The detective glanced at his watch. "At half-past eight. She'll behere in half an hour. Go on. What's up?"

"Read this, " said Cuthbert, and passed along the note from Juliet. "Ireceived that immediately after you went the other night. "

Jennings read the note with a thoughtful look, then laid it aside andstared at his friend. "It is strange that she should write in thatway, " said he. "I should have thought she would wish to learn whokilled her aunt. What does she mean?"

"I can't tell you. I met her to-day, " and Cuthbert gave details of hisvisit to Rexton and the interview with Juliet. "Now what does shemean, " he added in his turn, "talking as though I had something to dowith the matter?"

"Someone's been poisoning her mind. That brother of hers, perhaps. "

"What do you know of him?" asked Cuthbert quickly. 

"Nothing good. He's an hysterical idiot. Gambles a lot and falls intorages when he loses. At times I don't think he's responsible for hisactions. "

Mallow threw himself back in his chair biting his moustache. Every wordJennings spoke made him more confident that Basil had something to dowith the crime. But why Juliet should hint at his own guilt Cuthbertcould not imagine. Had he been calmer he might have hesitated to tellJennings about Basil. But, exasperated by Juliet's half confidence, andanxious to learn the truth, he gave the detective a full account of hismeeting with the young man. "What do you make of that?" he asked. 

"Well, " said Jennings doubtfully, "there's nothing much to go upon inwhat he said. He's in difficulties with Hale certainly--"

"And he seemed anxious about my having been in Caranby's grounds atnight. " "Were you there?"

"Yes. I did not intend to say anything about it, but I must tell youeverything so that you can put things straight between me and Juliet. I can't understand her. But I am sure her mother and Basil are tryingto influence her against me. I should not be surprised to learn thatthey accused me of this murder. "

"But on what grounds?" asked Jennings quickly. 

"We'll come to that presently. But I now see why neither Basil nor hismother want the marriage to take place. By the will of Miss LoachJuliet comes in for six thousand a year, which is completely at her owndisposal. Mrs. Octagon and her pet boy want to have the handling ofthat. They know if Juliet becomes my wife I won't let them prey onher, so immediately Miss Loach died the mother withdrew her consent tothe marriage, and now she is being backed up by Basil. "

"But I thought Mrs. Octagon was well off?"

"No. Saxon, her late husband, left her very little, and Octagon, forall his meekness, knows how to keep his money. Both mother and son areextravagant, so they hope to make poor Juliet their banker. In someway they have implicated me in the crime, and Juliet thinks that I amin danger of the gallows. That is why she wrote that mysterious note, Jennings. To-day she asked me to stop proceedings for my own sake, which shows that she thinks me guilty. I could not get a furtherexplanation from her, as she ran away. Hang it!" Cuthbert jumped upangrily, "if she'd only tell me the truth and speak straight out. Ican't understand this silence on her part. "

"I can, " said Jennings promptly, "in some way Basil is mixed up in thematter, and his accusing you means his acknowledging that he was nearRose Cottage on the night of the crime. He funks making so damaging anadmission. "

"Ah, I daresay, " said Cuthbert, "particularly as he quarrelled with hisaunt a week before the death. "

"Did he quarrel with her?"

"Of course. Didn't I tell you what he said to-day. He's in a finerage with the dead woman. And you know what an uncontrollable temperhe has. I've seen him rage at Maraquito's when he lost at baccarat. Silly ass! He can't play decently and lose his money like a gentleman. How Juliet ever came to have such a bounder for a brother I can'timagine. She's the soul of honor, and Basil--bah!"

"He quarrelled with his aunt, " murmured Jennings, "and he has a violenttemper, as we both knew. Humph! He may have something to do with thematter. Do you know where he was on that night?"

"Yes. Juliet and he went to the Marlow Theatre to see a melodrama by anew playwright. "

"Ha!" said Jennings half to himself, "and the Marlow Theatre is not farfrom Rexton. I'll make a note of that. Had they a box?"

"I believe so. It was sent by the man who wrote the play. "

"Who is he?"

"I can't say. One of that lot who play at being poets in OctagonHouse. A set of idiots. But what do you make of all this, Jennings?"

"I think with you that Mrs. Octagon and her cub of a son are trying tostop the marriage by bringing you into the matter of the crime. Wereyou down there on that night?"

"Yes, " said Cuthbert with hesitation, and to Jennings' surprise, "I didnot intend to say anything about it, as my uncle asked me to hold mytongue. But since things have come to this pass, you may as well knowthat I was there--and about the time of the murder too. "

Jennings sat up and stared. "Great heavens! Mallow, why didn't youtell me this the other night?"

"You might have arrested me then and there, " retorted Cuthbert. "Ipromised my uncle to hold my tongue. But now--"

"You will tell me all. My dear fellow, make a clean breast of it. "

"Rest easy, you shall learn everything. You know that the house at theback of Rose Cottage has been deserted for something like twenty yearsmore or less. "

"Yes. You told me about it the other night. "

"Caranby ran a fifteen-feet wall round it and the inside is a regularjungle. Well, the house is supposed to be haunted. Lights have beenseen moving about and strange noises have been heard. "

"What kind of noises?"

"Oh, moans and clanking chains and all that sort of thing. I heardindirectly about this, through Juliet. "

"Where did she hear the report?"

"From Miss Loach's cook. A woman called Pill. The cook asserted thatthe house was haunted, and described the noises and the lights. Idon't believe in spooks myself, and thought some tricks were beingplayed, so one day I went down and had a look. "

"That day I was there?" asked Jennings, recalling Cuthbert's presence. 

"Before that--a week or two. I saw nothing. The house is rotting andnothing appeared to be disturbed. I examined the park and found nofootmarks. In fact, there wasn't a sign of anyone about. "

"You should have gone at night when the ghost was larking. "

"That's what Caranby said. I told him when he came back to London. Hewas very annoyed. You know his romance about that house--an absurdthing it is. All the same, Caranby is tender on the point. I advisedhim to pull the house down and let the land out for building leases. He thought he would, but asked me to go at night and stir up the ghost. I went on the night of the murder, and got into the grounds by climbingthe wall. There's no gate, you know. "

"At what time?"

"Some time between ten and eleven. I'm not quite sure. "

"Good heavens! man, that is the very hour the woman was killed!"

"Yes. And for that reason I held my tongue; particularly as I got overthe wall near the cottage. "

"Where do you mean?"

"Well, there's a field of corn nearly ready to be cut near the cottage. It's divided from the garden by a fence. I came along the foot-paththat leads from the station and jumped the fence. "

"Did you enter Miss Loach's grounds?"

"No. I had no right to. I saw a light in the basement, but I did nottake much notice. I was too anxious to find the ghost. Well, I ranalong the fence--on the field-of-corn side, remember, and got over thewall. Then I dodged through the park, scratching myself a lot. Icould find nothing. The house seemed quiet enough, so after a quarterof an hour I had enough of it. I got out over the wall on the otherside and came home. I caught a cold which necessitated my wearing agreat-coat the next day. So there you have my ghost-hunting, and afine fool I was to go. "

"I wish you had told me this before, Mallow. "

"If I had, you would have thought I'd killed the old woman. But I tellyou now, as I want this matter sifted to the bottom. I refused tospeak before, as I didn't wish to be dragged into the case. "

"Did you see anything in the cottage?"

"Not a thing. I saw no one--I heard no sound. "

"Not even a scream?"

"Not even a scream, " said Mallow; "had I heard anything I should havegone to see what was the matter. "

"Strange!" murmured Jennings, "can't you tell the exact time?"

"Not to a minute. It was shortly after ten. I can't say how manyminutes. Perhaps a quarter of an hour. But not suspecting anythingwas going to happen, I didn't look at my watch. "

Jennings looked thoughtfully at the carpet. "I wonder if the assassinescaped that way, " he murmured. 

"Which way?"

"Over the wall and through the park. You see, he could not have goneup the lane or through the railway path without stumbling against thatpoliceman. But he might have slipped out of the front door athalf-past ten and climbed as you did over the wall to cross the parkand drop over the other. In this way he would elude the police. "

"Perhaps, " said Cuthbert disbelievingly; "but it was nearly eleven whenI left the park. If anyone had been at my heels I would have noticed. "

"I am not so sure of that. The park, as you say, is a kind of jungle. The man might have seen you and have taken his precautions. Moreover, "added the detective, sitting up alertly, "he might have written to MissSaxon saying he saw you on that night. And she--"

"Bosh!" interrupted Mallow roughly, "he would give himself away. "

"Not if the letter was anonymous. "

"Perhaps, " said the other again; "but Basil may have been about theplace and have accused me. "

"In that case he must explain his reason for being in the neighborhoodat that hour. But he won't, and you may be sure Miss Saxon, for hissake, will hold her tongue. No, Mallow. Someone accuses you to MissSaxon--Basil or another. If we could only make her speak--"

Cuthbert shook his head. "I fear it's impossible. "

"Why not let me arrest you, " suggested Jennings, "and then, if atanytime, she would speak. "

"Hang it, no!" cried Mallow in dismay, "that would be too realistic, Jennings. I don't want it known that I was hanging about the place onthat night. My explanation might not be believed. In any case, peoplewould throw mud at me, considering I am engaged to the niece of thedead woman. "

"Yes! I can see that. Well, " Jennings rose and stretched himself. "Imust see what Susan has to say"; he glanced at his watch; "she shouldbe here in a few minutes. "

A silence ensued which was broken by Jennings. "Oh, by the way, " hesaid, taking some papers out of his pocket, "I looked up the Saul case. "

"Well, what about it?" asked Cuthbert indolently

Jennings referred to his notes. "The Saul family" he said, "seem tohave been a bad lot. There was a mother, a brother and a daughter--"

"Emilia!"

"Just so. They were all coiners. Somewhere in Hampstead they had aregular factory. Others were mixed up in the matter also, but Mrs. Saul was the head of the gang. Then Emilia grew tired of the life--Iexpect it told on her nerves. She went on the concert platform and metCaranby. Then she died, as you know. Afterwards the mother andbrother were caught. They bolted. The mother, I believe, died--it wasbelieved she was poisoned for having betrayed secrets. The brotherwent to jail, got out years afterwards on ticket-of-leave, and thendied also. The rest of the gang were put in jail, but I can't say whatbecame of them. "

Cuthbert shrugged his shoulders. "This does not help us much. "

"No. But it shows you what an escape your uncle had from marrying thewoman. I can't understand--"

"No more can Caranby, " said Mallow, smiling; "he loved Miss Loach, butEmilia exercised a kind of hypnotic influence over him. However, sheis dead, and I can see no connection between her and this crime. "

"Well, " said Jennings soberly, "it appears that some other personbesides the mother gave a clue to the breaking up of the gang and thewhereabouts of the factory. Supposing that person was Selina Loach, who hated Emilia for having taken Caranby from her. One of the gangreleased lately from prison may have killed the old lady out ofrevenge. "

"What! after all these years?"

"Revenge is a passion that grows with years, " said Jennings grimly; "atall events, I intend to go on ferreting out evidence about this oldcoining case, particularly as there are many false coins circulatingnow. I should not be surprised to learn that the factory had been setup again; Miss Loach may have known and--"

"This is all supposition, " cried Mallow. "I can't see the slightestconnection between the coiners and this murder. Besides, it does notexplain why Juliet hints at my being implicated. "

Jennings did not reply. "There's the bell, too, " he murmured, his eyeson the ground, "that might be explained. " He looked up briskly. "Itell you what, Mallow, this case may turn out to be a bigger thing thaneither of us suspect. "

"It's quite big enough for me as it is, " retorted Cuthbert, "although Idon't know what you mean. All I desire is to get to the root of thematter and marry Juliet. Find Miss Loach's assassin, Jennings, anddon't bother about this dead-and-gone coining case. "

"There's a connection between the two, " said Jennings, obstinately;"it's impossible to say how the connection comes about, but I feel thata discovery in one case entails a discovery in the other. If I canprove that Miss Loach was killed by one of the old coiners--"

"What will happen then?"

"I may stumble on the factory that is in existence now. "

He would have gone on to explain himself more fully, but that Mallow'sman entered with the information that a young person was waiting andasked for Mr. Jennings. Mallow ordered the servant to admit her, andshortly Susan Grant, nervous and blushing, entered the room. 

"I am glad to see you, " said Jennings, placing a chair for her. "Thisis Mr. Mallow. We wish to ask you a few questions. "

"I have seen Mr. Mallow before, " said Susan, gasping and flushing. 

"At Rose Cottage?" said Mallow inquiringly. 

"No. When I was with Senora Gredos as parlor-maid. "

"Senora Gredos?" said Jennings, before Cuthbert could speak. "Do youmean Maraquito?"

"I have heard that her name was Maraquito, sir, " said Susan calmly. "Alame lady and fond of cards. She lives in--"

"I know where she lives, " said Cuthbert, flushing in his turn. "I wentthere occasionally to play cards. I never saw you. "

"But I saw you, sir, " said the girl fervently. "Often I have watchedyou when you thought I wasn't, and--"

"One moment, " said Jennings, interrupting. "Let's us get to the pithof the matter at once. Where did you get Mr. Mallow's portrait?"

"I don't want to say, " murmured the girl. 

"But you must say, " said Mallow angrily. "I order you to confess. "

"I kept silent for your sake, sir, " she said, her eyes filled withtears, "but if you must know, I took the portrait from Senora Gredos'dressing-room when I left her house. And I left it on your account, sir, " she finished defiantly. 

CHAPTER X

THE PARLOR-MAID'S STORY

On hearing the confession of the girl, both men looked at one anotherin amazement. How could Cuthbert's photograph have come into thepossession of Senora Gredos, and why had Susan Grant stolen it? Andagain, why did she hint that she had held her tongue about the matterfor the sake of Mallow? Jennings at once proceeded to get at the truth. While being examined Susan wept, with an occasional glance at thebewildered Cuthbert. 

"You were with Maraquito as parlor-maid?"

"With Senora Gredos? Yes, sir, for six months. "

"Do you know what went on in that house?"

Susan ceased her sobs and stared. "I don't know what you mean, " shesaid, looking puzzled. "It was a gay house, I know; but there wasnothing wrong that I ever saw, save that I don't hold with cards beingplayed on Sunday. "

"And on every other night of the week, " muttered Jennings. "Did youever hear Senora Gredos called Maraquito?"

"Sometimes the gentlemen who came to play cards called her by thatname. But she told her maid, who was my friend, that they were oldfriends of hers. And I think they were sorry for poor Senora Gredos, sir, " added Miss Grant, naively, "as she suffered so much with herback. You know, she rarely moved from her couch. It was alwayswheeled into the room where the gambling took place. "

"Ah. You knew that gambling went on, " said Jennings, snapping her upsharply. "Don't you know that is against the law?"

"No, sir. Do you know?"

Cuthbert could not restrain a laugh. "That's one for you, Jennings, "said he, nodding, "you often went to the Soho house. "

"I had my reasons for saying nothing, " replied the detective hastily. "You may be sure I could have ended the matter at once had I spoken tomy chief about it. As it was, I judged it best to let matters remainas they were, so long as the house was respectably conducted. "

"I'm sure it was conducted well, sir, " said Susan, who appeared ratherindignant. "Senora Gredos was a most respectable lady. "

"She lived alone always, I believe?"

"Yes, sir. " Then Susan hesitated. "I wonder if she had a mother?"

"Why do you wonder?"

"Well, sir, the lady who came to see Miss Loach--"

"Mrs. Herne?"

"I heard her name was Mrs. Herne, but she was as like Senora Gredos astwo peas, save that she was older and had gray hair. "

"Hum!" said Jennings, pondering. "Did you ever hear Senora Gredosspeak of Mrs. Herne?"

"Never, sir. But Mrs. Pill--the cook of Miss Loach--said that Mrs. Herne lived at Hampstead. But she was like my old mistress. When Iopened the door to her I thought she was Senora Gredos. But then thescent may have made me think that. "

Jennings looked up sharply. "The scent? What do you mean?"

"Senora Gredos, " explained Susan quietly, "used a very nice scent--aJapanese scent called Hikui. She used no other, and I never met anylady who did, save Mrs. Herne. "

"Oh, so Mrs. Herne used it. "

"She did, sir. When I opened the door on that night, " Susan shuddered, "the first thing I knew was the smell of Hikui making the passage likea hairdresser's shop. I leaned forward to see if the lady was SenoraGredos, and she turned her face away. But I caught sight of it, and ifshe isn't some relative of my last mistress, may I never eat breadagain. "

"Did Mrs. Herne seem offended when you examined her face?"

"She gave a kind of start--"

"At the sight of you, " said Jennings quickly. 

"La, no, sir. She never saw me before. "

"I'm not so sure of that, " muttered the detective. "Did you alsorecognize Mr. Clancy and Mr. Hale as having visited the Soho house?"

"No, sir. I never set eyes on them before. "

"But as parlor-maid, you must have opened the door to--"

"Just a moment, sir, " said Susan quickly. "I opened the door in theday when few people came. After eight the page, Gibber, took my place. And I hardly ever went upstairs, as Senora Gredos told me to keepbelow. One evening I did come up and saw--" here her eyes rested onCuthbert with a look which made him turn crimson. "I wish I had nevercome up on that night. "

"See here, my girl, " said Mallow irritably, "do you mean to say--"

"Hold on, Mallow, " interposed Jennings, "let me ask a question. " Heturned to Susan, now weeping again with downcast eyes. "Mr. Mallow'sface made an impression on you?"

"Yes, sir. But then I knew every line of it before. "

"How was that?"

Susan looked up surprised. "The photograph in Senora Gredos'dressing-room. I often looked at it, and when I left I could not bearto leave it behind. It was stealing, I know, " cried Miss Granttearfully, "and I have been brought up respectably, but I couldn't helpmyself. "

By this time Cuthbert was the color of an autumn sunset. He was amodest young man, and these barefaced confessions made him wince. Hewas about to interpose irritably when Jennings turned on him with aleading question. "Why did you give that photograph to--"

"Confound it!" cried Mallow, jumping up, "I did no such thing. I knewMaraquito only as the keeper of the gambling house. There was nothingbetween--"

"Don't, sir, " said Susan, rising in her turn with a flush of jealousy. "I saw her kissing the photograph. "

"Then she must be crazy, " cried Mallow: "I never gave her any occasionto behave so foolishly. For months I have been engaged, and--" he herebecame aware that he was acting foolishly in talking like this to alove-sick servant, and turned on his heel abruptly. "I'll go in thenext room, " said he, "call me when you wish for my presence, Jennings. I can't possibly stay and listen to this rubbish, " and going out, hebanged the door, thereby bringing a fresh burst of tears from SusanGrant. Every word he said pierced her heart. 

"Now I've made him cross, " she wailed, "and I would lay down my lifefor him--that I would. "

"See here, my girl, " said Jennings, soothingly and fully prepared tomake use of the girl's infatuation, "it is absurd your being in lovewith a gentleman of Mr. Mallow's position. "

Miss Grant tossed her head. "I've read Bow-Bells and the FamilyHerald, sir, " she said positively, "and many a time have I read of agoverness, which is no more than a servant, marrying an earl. And thatMr. Mallow isn't, sir. "

"He will be when Lord Caranby dies, " said Jennings, hardly knowing whatto say, "and fiction isn't truth. Besides, Mr. Mallow is engaged. "

"I know, sir--to Miss Saxon. Well, " poor Susan sighed, "she is a sweetyoung lady. I suppose he loves her. "

"Devotedly. He will be married soon. "

"And she's got Miss Loach's money too, " sighed Susan again, "what alucky young lady. Handsome looks in a husband and gold galore. A poorservant like me has to look on and keep her heart up with the ChurchService. But I tell you what, sir, " she added, drying her eyes andapparently becoming resigned, "if I ain't a lady, Senora Gredos is, andshe won't let Mr. Mallow marry Miss Saxon. "

"But Mr. Mallow is not in love with Senora Gredos. "

"Perhaps not, sir, but she's in love with him. Yes. You may look andlook, Mr. Jennings, but lame as she is and weak in the back and unableto move from that couch, she loves him. She had that photograph in herroom and kissed it, as it I saw with my own eyes. I took it the lastthing before I went, as I loved Mr. Mallow too, and I was not going tolet that Spanish lady kiss him even in a picture. "

"Upon my word, " murmured Jennings, taken aback by this vehemence, "itis very strange all this. "

"Oh, yes, you gentlemen don't think a poor girl has a heart. I couldn'thelp falling in love, though he never looked my way. But that MissSaxon is a sweet, kind, young lady put upon by her mother, I wouldn'tgive him up even to her. But I can see there's no chance for me, " weptSusan, "seeing the way he has gone out, banging the door in a temper, so I'll give him up. And I'll go now. My heart's broken. "

But Jennings made her sit down again. "Not yet, my girl, " he saidfirmly, "if you wish to do Mr. Mallow a good turn--"

"Oh, I'll do that, " she interrupted with sparkling eyes, "after all, hecan't help giving his heart elsewhere. It's just my foolishness tothink otherwise. But how can I help him, sir?"

"He wants to find out who killed Miss Loach. "

"I can't help him there, sir. I don't know who killed her. Mrs. Herneand Mr. Clancy and Mr. Hale were all gone, and when the bell rang shewas alone, dead in her chair with them cards on her lap. Oh, " Susan'svoice became shrill and hysterical, "what a horrible sight!"

"Yes, yes, " said Jennings soothingly, "we'll come to that shortly, mygirl. But about this photograph. Was it in Senora Gredos'dressing-room long?"

"For about three months, sir. I saw it one morning when I took up herbreakfast and fell in love with the handsome face. Then Gibber told methe gentleman came to the house sometimes, and I went up the stairsagainst orders after eight to watch. I saw him and found him moregood-looking than the photograph. Often did I watch him and envy SenoraGredos the picture with them loving words. Sir, " said Susan, sittingup stiffly, "if Mr. Mallow is engaged to Miss Saxon and doesn't loveSenora Gredos, why did he write those words?"

"He did not write them for her, " said Jennings doubtfully, "at least Idon't think so. It is impossible to say how the photograph came intothe possession of that lady. "

"Will you ask him, sir?"

"Yes, when you are gone. But he won't speak while you are in the room. "

Susan drooped her head and rose dolefully. "My dream is gone, " shesaid mournfully, "though I was improving myself in spelling and figuresso that I might go out as a governess and perhaps meet him in highcircles. "

"Ah, that's all Family Herald fiction, " said Jennings, not unkindly. 

"Yes! I know now, sir. My delusions are gone. But I will do anythingI can to help Mr. Mallow and I hope he'll always think kindly of me. "

"I'm sure he will. By the way, what are you doing now?"

"I go home to help mother at Stepney, sir, me having no call to go outto service. I have a happy home, though not fashionable. And after myheart being crushed I can't go out again, " sighed Susan sadly. 

"Are you sorry to leave Rose Cottage?"

"No, sir, " Susan shuddered, "that dead body with the blood and thecards will haunt me always. Mrs. Pill, as is going to marry ThomasBarnes and rent the cottage, wanted me to stay, but I couldn't. "

Jennings pricked up his ears. "What's that? How can Mrs. Pill rent soexpensive a place. "

"It's by arrangement with Miss Saxon, sir. Mrs. Pill told me all aboutit. Miss Saxon wished to sell the place, but Thomas Barnes spoke toher and said he had saved money while in Miss Loach's service fortwenty years--"

"Ah, " said Jennings thoughtfully, "he was that time in Miss Loach'sservice, was he?"

"Yes, sir. And got good wages. Well, sir, Miss Saxon hearing hewished to marry the cook and take the cottage and keep boarders, lethim rent it with furniture as it stands. She and Mrs. Octagon aregoing back to town, and Mrs. Pill is going to have the cottage cleanedfrom cellar to attic before she marries Thomas and receives theboarder. "

"Oh. So she has a boarder?"

"Yes, sir. She wouldn't agree to Thomas taking the cottage as herhusband, unless she had a boarder to start with, being afraid she andThomas could not pay the rent. So Thomas saw Mr. Clancy and he iscoming to stop. He has taken all the part where Miss Loach lived, anddoesn't want anyone else in the house, being a quiet man and retired. "

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" said Jennings in three different tones of voice. "I thinkMrs. Pill is very wise. I hope she and Thomas will do well. By theway, what do you think of Mr. Barnes?"

Susan did not leave him long in doubt as to her opinion. "I think heis a stupid fool, " she said, "and it's a good thing Mrs. Pill is goingto marry him. He was guided by Miss Loach all his life, and now she'sdead, he goes about like a gaby. One of those men, sir, " explainedSusan, "as needs a woman to look after them. Not like that gentleman, "she cast a tender glance at the door, "who can protect the weakest ofmy sex. "

Jennings having learned all he could, rose. "Well, Miss Grant, " hesaid quietly, "I am obliged to you for your frank speaking. My adviceto you is to go home and think no more of Mr. Mallow. You might aswell love the moon. But you know my address, and should you hear ofanything likely to lead you to suspect who killed Miss Loach, Mr. Mallow will make it worth your while to come to me with theinformation. "

"I'll do all I can, " said Susan resolutely, "but I won't take a pennypiece, me having my feelings as other and higher ladies. "

"Just as you please. But Mr. Mallow is about to offer a reward onbehalf of his uncle, Lord Caranby. "

"He that was in love with Miss Loach, sir?"

"Yes. On account of that old love, Lord Caranby desires to learn whokilled her. And Mr. Mallow also wishes to know, for a private reason. I expect you will be calling to see Mrs. Pill?"

"When she's Mrs. Barnes, I think so, sir. I go to the wedding, and meand Geraldine are going to be bridesmaids. "

"Then if you hear or see anything likely to lead to a revelation of thetruth, you will remember. By the way, you don't know how Senora Gredosgot that photograph?"

"No, sir, I do not. "

"And you think Mrs. Herne is Senora Gredos' mother?"

"Yes, sir, I do. "

"Thank you, that will do for the present. Keep your eyes open and yourmouth closed, and when you hear of anything likely to interest me, callat the address I gave you. "

"Yes, sir, " said Susan, and took her leave, not without anotherlingering glance at the door behind which Mallow waited impatiently. 

When she was gone, Jennings went into the next room to find Cuthbertsmoking. He jumped up when he saw the detective. "Well, has that sillygirl gone?" he asked angrily. 

"Yes, poor soul. You needn't get in a wax, Mallow. The girl can'thelp falling in love with you. Poor people have feelings as well asrich. "

"I know that, but it's ridiculous: especially as I never saw the girlbefore, and then I love only Juliet. "

"You are sure of that?"

"Jennings"

"There--there, don't get angry. We must get to the bottom of thisaffair which is getting more complicated every day. Did you give thatphotograph to Senora Gredos?"

"To Maraquito. No, I didn't. I gave it to Juliet. "

"You are certain?"

"Positive! I can't make out how it came into Maraquito's house. "

Jennings pondered. "Perhaps Basil may have given it to her. It is tohis interest on behalf of his mother to make trouble between you andMiss Saxon. Moreover, if it is as I surmise, it shows that Mrs. Octagon intended to stop the marriage, if she could, even before hersister died. "

"Ah! And it shows that the death of Miss Loach gave her a chance ofasserting herself and stopping the marriage. "

"Well, she might have hesitated to do that before, as Miss Loach mightnot have left her fortune to Juliet if the marriage did not take place. "

Cuthbert nodded and spoke musingly: "After all, the old woman liked me, and I was the nephew of the man who loved her in her youth. Her heartmay have been set on the match, and she might have threatened to leaveher fortune elsewhere if Mrs. Octagon did not agree. Failing this, Mrs. Octagon, through Basil, gave that photograph to Maraquito in thehope that Juliet would ask questions of me--"

"And if she had asked questions?" asked Jennings quickly. 

Cuthbert looked uncomfortable. "Don't think me a conceited ass, " hesaid, trying to laugh, "but Maraquito is in love with me. I stayedaway from her house because she became too attentive. I never told youthis, as no man has a right to reveal a woman's weakness. But, asmatters are so serious, it is right you should know. "

"I am glad I do know. By the way, Cuthbert, what between Miss Saxon, Susan Grant and Maraquito, you will have a hard time. "

"How absurd!" said Mallow angrily. "Juliet is the only woman I loveand Juliet I intend to marry. "

"Maraquito will prevent your marriage. "

"If she can, " scoffed Cuthbert. 

Jennings looked grave. "I am not so sure but what she can makemischief. There's Mrs. Herne who may or may not be the mother of thisSpanish demon--"

"Perhaps the demon herself, " ventured Mallow. 

"No!" said the detective positively. "Maraquito can't move from hercouch. You know that. However, I shall call on Mrs. Herne atHampstead. She was a witness, you know? Keep quiet, Mallow, and letme make inquiries. Meantime, ask Miss Saxon when she missed thatphotograph. "

"Can you see your way now?"

"I have a slight clue. But it will be a long time before I learn thetruth. There is a lot at the back of that murder, Mallow. "

CHAPTER XI

ON THE TRACK

Professor Le Beau kept a school of dancing in Pimlico, and incessantlytrained pupils for the stage. Many of them had appeared with more orless success in the ballets at the Empire and Alhambra, and he waswidely known amongst stage-struck aspirants as charging moderately andteaching in a most painstaking manner. He thus made an income which, if not large, was at least secure, and was assisted in the school byhis niece, Peggy Garthorne. She was the manager of his house andlooked after the money, otherwise the little professor would never havebeen able to lay aside for the future. But when the brother of thelate Madame Le Beau--an Englishwoman--died, his sister took charge ofthe orphan. Now that Madame herself was dead, Peggy looked after theprofessor out of gratitude and love. She was fond of the excitablelittle Frenchman, and knew how to manage him to a nicety. 

It was to the Dancing Academy that Jennings turned his steps a few daysafter the interview with Susan. He had been a constant visitor therefor eighteen months and was deeply in love with Peggy. On a BankHoliday he had been fortunate enough to rescue her from a noisy crowd, half-drunk and indulging in horse-play, and had escorted her home toreceive the profuse thanks of the Professor. The detective wasattracted by the quaint little man, and he called again to inquire forPeggy. A friendship thus inaugurated ripened into a deeper feeling, and within nine months Jennings proposed for the hand of the humblegirl. She consented and so did Le Beau, although he was rather ruefulat the thought of losing his mainstay. But Peggy promised him that shewould still look after him until he retired, and with this promise LeBeau was content. He was now close on seventy, and could not hope toteach much longer. But, thanks to Peggy's clever head and savinghabits, he had--as the French say--"plenty of bread baked" to eatduring days of dearth. 

The Academy was situated down a narrow street far removed from the mainthoroughfares. Quiet houses belonging to poor people stood on eitherside of this lane--for that it was--and at the end appeared theAcademy, blocking the exit from that quarter. It stood right in themiddle of the street and turned the lane into a blind alley, but anarrow right-of-way passed along the side and round to the back wherethe street began again under a new name. The position of the place wasquaint, and often it had been intended to remove the obstruction, butthe owner, an eccentric person of great wealth, had hitherto refused toallow it to be pulled down. But the owner was now old, and it wasexpected his heirs would take away the building and allow the lane torun freely through to the other street. Still it would last ProfessorLe Beau's time, for his heart would have broken had he been compelledto move. He had taught here for the last thirty years, and had becomepart and parcel of the neighborhood. 

Jennings, quietly dressed in blue serge with brown boots and a bowlerhat, turned down the lane and advanced towards the double door of theAcademy, which was surmounted by an allegorical group of plasterfigures designed by Le Beau himself, and representing Orpheus teachingtrees and animals to dance. The allusion was not complimentary to hispupils, for if Le Beau figured as Orpheus, what were the animals?However, the hot-tempered little man refused to change his allegory andthe group remained. Jennings passed under it and into the buildingwith a smile which the sight of those figures always evoked. Within, the building on the ground floor was divided into two rooms--a largehall for the dancing lessons and a small apartment used indifferentlyas a reception-room and an office. Above, on the first story, were thesitting-room, the dining-room and the kitchen; and on the third, undera high conical roof, the two bedrooms of the Professor and Peggy, withan extra one for any stranger who might remain. Where Margot, theFrench cook and maid-of-all-work, slept, was a mystery. So it will beseen that the accommodation of the house was extremely limited. However, Le Beau, looked after by Peggy and Margot, who was devoted tohim, was extremely well pleased, and extremely happy in his light airyFrench way. 

In the office was Peggy, making up some accounts. She was a pretty, small maiden of twenty-five, neatly dressed in a clean print gown, andlooking like a dewy daisy. Her eyes were blue, her hair the color ofripe corn, and her cheeks were of a delicate rose. There was somethingpastoral about Peggy, smacking of meadow lands and milking time. Sheshould have been a shepherdess looking after her flock rather than agirl toiling in a dingy office. How such a rural flower ever sprung upamongst London houses was a mystery Jennings could not make out. Andaccording to her own tale, Peggy had never lived in the country. Whatwith the noise of fiddling which came from the large hall, and the factof being absorbed in her work, Peggy never heard the entrance of herlover. Jennings stole quietly towards her, admiring the pretty pictureshe made with a ray of dusky sunlight making glory of her hair. 

"Who is it?" he asked, putting his hands over her eyes. 

"Oh, " cried Peggy, dropping her pen and removing his hands, "the onlyman who would dare to take such a liberty with me. Miles, my darlingpig!" and she kissed him, laughing. 

"I don't like the last word, Peggy!"

"It's Papa Le Beau's favorite word with his pupils, " said Peggy, whoalways spoke of the dancing-master thus. 

"With the addition of darling?"

"No, that is an addition of my own. But I can remove it if you like. "

"I don't like, " said Miles, sitting down and pulling her towards him, "come and talk to me, Pegtop. "

"I won't be called Pegtop, and as to talking, I have far too much workto do. The lesson will soon be over, and some of the pupils have totake these accounts home. Then dejeuner will soon be ready, and youknow how Margot hates having her well-cooked dishes spoilt by waiting. But why are you here instead of at work?"

"Hush!" said Miles, laying a finger on her lips. "Papa will hear you. "

"Not he. Hear the noise his fiddle is making, and he is scolding thepoor little wretches like a game-cock. "

"Does a game-cock scold?" asked Jennings gravely. "I hope he is not ina bad temper, Peggy. I have come to ask him a few questions. "

"About your own business?" asked she in a lower tone. 

Jennings nodded. Peggy knew his occupation, but as yet he had not beenable to tell Le Beau. 

The Frenchman cherished all the traditional hatred of his race for theprofession of "mouchard, " and would not be able to understand that adetective was of a higher standing. Miles was therefore supposed to bea gentleman of independent fortune, and both he and Peggy decided toinform Le Beau of the truth when he had retired from business. Meanwhile, Miles often talked over his business with Peggy, and usuallyfound her clear way of looking at things of infinite assistance to himin the sometimes difficult cases which he dealt with. Peggy knew allabout the murder in Crooked Lane, and how Miles was dealing with thematter. But even she had not been able to suggest a clue to theassassin, although she was in full possession of the facts. "It'sabout this new case I wish to speak, " said Jennings. "By the way, Peggy, you know that woman Maraquito I have talked of?"

"Yes. The gambling-house. What of her?"

"Well, she seems to be implicated in the matter. "

"In what way?"

Jennings related the episode of the photograph, and the incident of thesame perfume being used by Mrs. Herne and Maraquito. Peggy nodded. 

"I don't see how the photograph connects her with the case, " she saidat length, "but the same perfume certainly is strange. All the same, the scent maybe fashionable. Hikui! Hikui! I never heard of it. "

"It is a Japanese perfume, and Maraquito got it from some foreignadmirer. It is strange, as you say. "

"Have you seen Mrs. Herne?"

"I saw her at the inquest. She gave evidence. But I had noconversation with her myself. "

"Why don't you look her up? You mentioned you had her address. "

"I haven't it now, " said Jennings gloomily. "I called at the Hampsteadhouse, and learned that Mrs. Herne had received such a shock from thedeath of her friend, Miss Loach, that she had gone abroad and would notreturn for an indefinite time. So I can do nothing in that quarterjust now. It is for this reason that I have come here to ask aboutMaraquito. "

"From Papa Le Beau, " said Peggy, wrinkling her pretty brows. "What canhe know of this woman?"

"She was a dancer until she had an accident. Le Beau may have had herthrough his hands. "

"Maraquito, Maraquito, " murmured Peggy, and shook her head. "No, I donot remember her. How old is she?"

"About thirty, I think; a fine, handsome woman like a tropical flowerfor coloring. "

"Spanish. The name is Spanish. "

"I think that is all the Spanish about her. She talks English withoutthe least accent. Hush! here is papa. "

It was indeed the little Professor, who rushed into the room and threwhimself, blowing and panting, on the dingy sofa. He was small and dry, with black eyes and a wrinkled face. He wore a blonde wig which didnot match his yellow complexion, and was neatly dressed in black, withan old-fashioned swallow-tail coat of blue. He carried a small fiddleand spoke volubly without regarding the presence of Miles. 

"Oh, these cochons of English, my dear, " he exclaimed to Peggy, "sosteef--so wood-steef in the limbs. Wis 'em I kin do noozzn', no, not aleetle bit. Zey would make ze angils swear. Ah, mon Dieu, queldommage I haf to teach zem. "

"I must see about these accounts, " said Peggy, picking up a sheaf ofpapers and running out. "Stay to dejeuner, Miles. "

"Eh, mon ami, " cried papa, rising. "My excuses, but ze pigs make me tobe mooch enrage. Zey are ze steef dolls on the Strasburg clock. Youare veil--ah, yis--quite veil cheerup. "

The Professor had picked up a number of English slang words with whichhe interlarded his conversation. He meant to be kind, and indeed likedMiles greatly. In proof of his recovered temper, he offered the youngman a pinch of snuff. Jennings hated snuff, but to keep Papa Le Beau ina good temper he accepted the offer and sneezed violently. 

"Professor, " he said, when somewhat better, "I have come to ask youabout a lady. A friend of mine has fallen in love with her, and hethought you might know of her. "

"Eh, wha-a-at, mon cher? I understands nozzin'. Ze lady, quel nom?"

"Maraquito Gredos. "

"Espagnole, " murmured Le Beau, shaking his wig. "Non. I do not knowze name. Dancers of Spain. Ah, yis--I haf had miny--zey are not steeflike ze cochon Englees. Describe ze looks, mon ami. "

Jennings did so, to the best of his ability, but the old man stillappeared undecided. "But she has been ill for three years, " addedJennings. "She fell and hurt her back, and--"

"Eh--wha-a-at Celestine!" cried Le Beau excitedly. "She did fall andhurt hersilf--eh, yis--mos' dredfil. Conceive to yoursilf, my frien', she slip on orange peels in ze streets and whacks comes she down. Treeyear back--yis--tree year. Celestine Durand, mon fil. "

Jennings wondered. "But she says she is Spanish. "

Le Beau flipped a pinch of snuff in the air. "Ah, bah! She no Spain. "

"So she is French, " murmured Jennings to himself. 

"Ah, non; by no means, " cried the Frenchman unexpectedly. "She noFrench. She Englees--yis--I remembers. A ver' fine and bigdemoiselle. She wish to come out at de opera. But she too large--moochtoo large. Englees--yis--La Juive. "

"A Jewess?" cried Jennings in his turn. 

"I swear to you, mon ami. Englees Jewess, mais oui! For ten monthsshe dance here, tree year gone. Zen zee orange peels and pouf! I seeher no mores. But never dance--no--too large, une grande demoiselle. "

"Do you know where she came from?"

"No. I know nozzin' but what I tell you. "

"Did you like her?"

Le Beau shrugged his shoulders. "I am too old, mon ami. Les femmeslike me not. I haf had mes affairs--ah, yis. Conceive--" and herattled out an adventure of his youth which was more amusing than moral. 

But Jennings paid very little attention to him. He was thinking thatMaraquito-Celestine was a more mysterious woman than he had thoughther. While Jennings was wondering what use he could make of theinformation he had received, Le Beau suddenly flushed crimson. A newthought had occurred to him. "Do you know zis one--zis CelestineDurand? Tell her I vish money--"

"Did she not pay you?"

Le Beau seized Jennings' arm and shook it violently. "Yis. Tree pound;quite raight; oh, certainly. But ze four piece of gold, alouis--non--ze Englees sufferin--"

"The English sovereign. Yes. "

"It was bad money--ver bad. "

"Have you got it?" asked Jennings, feeling that he was on the brink ofa discovery. 

"Non. I pitch him far off in rages. I know now, Celestine Durand. Iadmire her; oh, yis. Fine womans--a viecked eye. Mais une--no, notzat. Bad, I tell you. If your frien' love, haf nozzin' wis her. Shegif ze bad money, one piece--" he held up a lean finger, and then, "Aha! ze bell for ze tables. Allons, marchons. We dine--we eat, " andhe dashed out of the room as rapidly as he had entered it. 

But Jennings did not follow him. He scribbled a note to Peggy, statingthat he had to go away on business, and left the Academy. He felt thatit would be impossible to sit down and talk of trivial things--as hewould have to do in the presence of Le Beau--when he had made such adiscovery. The case was beginning to take shape. "Can Maraquito haveanything to do with the coiners?" he asked himself. "She is English--aJewess--Saul is a Jewish name. Can she be of that family? It seems tome that this case is a bigger one than I imagine. I wonder what I hadbetter do?"

It was not easy to say. However, by the time Jennings reached hishome--he had chambers in Duke Street, St. James'--he decided to seeMaraquito. For this purpose he arrayed himself in accurate eveningdress. Senora Gredos thought he was a mere idler, a man-about-town. Had she known of his real profession she might not have welcomed him sofreely to her house. Maraquito, for obvious reasons, had no desire tocome into touch with the authorities. 

But it must not be thought that she violated the law in any veryflagrant way. She was too clever for that. Her house was conducted ina most respectable manner. It was situated in Golden Square, and was afine old mansion of the days when that locality was fashionable. Herservants were all neat and demure. Maraquito received a few friendsevery evening for a quiet game of cards, so on the surface no one couldobject to that. But when the doors were closed, high play went on andwell-known people ventured large sums on the chances of baccarat. Also, people not quite so respectable came, and it was for that reasonScotland Yard left the house alone. When any member of the detectivestaff wished to see anyone of a shady description, the person could befound at Maraquito's. Certainly, only the aristocracy of crime camehere, and never a woman. Maraquito did not appear to love her own sex. She received only gentlemen, and as she was an invalid and attendedconstantly by a duenna in the form of a nurse, no one could sayanything. The police knew in an underhand way that the Soho house wasa gambling saloon, but the knowledge had not come officially, thereforeno notice was taken. But Maraquito's servants suspected nothing, neither did the gossips of the neighborhood. Senora Gredos was simplylooked upon as an invalid fond of entertaining because of her wearinessin being confined to her couch. 

Jennings had appointed a meeting with Mallow in this semi-respectableestablishment, and looked round when he entered the room. It was alarge apartment, decorated in the Adams style and furnished as aluxurious drawing-room. At the side near the window there was a longtable covered with green baize. Round this several gentlemen inevening dress were standing. Others played games of their own atseparate small tables, but most of them devoted themselves to baccarat. Maraquito held the bank. Her couch was drawn up against the wall, andthe red silk curtains of the window made a vivid background to her darkbeauty. 

She was, indeed, a handsome woman--so much of her as could be seen. Half-sitting, half-reclining on her couch, the lower part of her framewas swathed in eastern stuffs sparkling with gold threads. She wore ayellow silk dress trimmed about the shoulders with black lace andglittering with valuable jewels. Her neck and arms were finely mouldedand of a dazzling whiteness. Her small head was proudly set on hershoulders, and her magnificent black hair smoothly coiled in lustroustresses above her white forehead. Her lips were full and rich, hereyes large and black, and her nose was thin and high. The most markedfeature of her face were the eyebrows, which almost met over her nose. She had delicate hands and beautiful arms which showed themselves toadvantage as she manipulated the cards. From the gorgeous coverlet herbust rose like a splendid flower, and for an invalid she had asurprising color. She was indeed, as Jennings had remarked, like atropical flower. But there was something sensual and evil about herexuberance. But not a whisper had been heard against her reputation. Everyone, sorry for the misfortune which condemned this lovely woman toa sickbed, treated her with respect. Maraquito, as some people said, may have been wicked, but no anchorite could have led, on the face ofit, a more austere life. Her smile was alluring, and she looked likethe Lurline drawing men to destruction. Fortunes had been lost in thatquiet room. 

When Jennings entered, Maraquito was opening a fresh pack of cards, while the players counted their losses or winnings and fiddled with thered chips used in the game. On seeing the newcomer, Senora Gredos gavehim a gracious smile, and said something to the pale, thin woman inblack who stood at the head of her couch. The nurse, or duenna--sheserved for both--crossed to Jennings as he advanced towards the buffet, on which stood glasses and decanters of wine. 

"Madame wishes to know why you have not brought Mr. Mallow. "

"Tell madame that he will be here soon. I have to meet him in thisplace, " said the detective to the duenna, and watched the effect of themessage on Maraquito. 

Her face flushed, her eyes brightened, but she did not look again inJennings' direction. On the contrary, she gave all her attention tothe game which was now in progress, but Jennings guessed that herthoughts were with Mallow, and occasionally he caught her looking forhis appearance at the door. "How that woman loves him, " he thought, "Iwonder I never noticed it before. Quite an infatuation. " For a timehe watched the players staking large amounts, and saw the pile of goldat Maraquito's elbow steadily increasing. She seemed to have all theluck. The bank was winning and its opponents losing, but the play wenton steadily for at least half an hour. At the end of that time anewcomer entered the room. Jennings, who had glanced at his watch, quite expected to see Cuthbert. But, to his surprise, he came face toface with Lord Caranby. 

"I did not expect to see you here, " said the detective. 

"I come in place of my nephew. He is unwell, " said Caranby; "presentme to Senora Gredos, if you please, Mr. Jennings. "

CHAPTER XII

JENNINGS ASKS QUESTIONS

"Will you play, Lord Caranby?" asked Maraquito, when the introductionhad been accomplished. 

"Pardon me, not at present: in a little time, " said the old nobleman, with a polite bow and his eyes on the beautiful face. 

"As you like, " she answered carelessly; "everyone who comes here doesjust as he pleases. Is your nephew coming?"

"I fear not. He is unwell. "

Maraquito started. "Unwell. Nothing serious, I hope?"

"A slight cold. "

"Ah! Everyone has colds just now. Well, Lord Caranby, I hope to havea conversation with you later when someone else takes the bank. "

Caranby bowed and moved away slowly, leaning on his cane. Jennings, whowas beside him, threw a glance over his shoulder at Senora Gredos. 

Maraquito's face was pale, and there was a frightened look in her eyes. Catching Jennings' inquisitive look she frowned and again addressedherself to the game. Wondering why Lord Caranby should produce such aneffect, Jennings rejoined him at the end of the room, where they sat ona sofa and smoked. "Have you been here before?" asked the detective. 

"No, " answered the other, lighting his cigar, "and it is improbablethat I shall come again. My reason for coming--" he broke off--"I cantell you that later. It is sufficient to say that it has to do withyour conduct of this case. "

"Hush!" whispered Jennings quickly, "my profession is not known here. "

"I fear it will be if these two have tongues in their heads. "

The detective glanced towards the door and saw Hale enter with Clancyat his heels. Jennings had not seen them since the inquest on the bodyof Miss Loach, when they had given their evidence with great grief andfrankness. He was annoyed at meeting them here, for although he hadseen them in Maraquito's salon before, yet at that time they had notknown his profession. But since the inquest the knowledge was commonproperty, and doubtless they would tell Senora Gredos if they had notdone so already. Jennings' chances of learning what he wished wouldtherefore be slight, as everyone is not willing to speak freely beforean officer of the law. 

"It can't be helped, " said Jennings with a shrug; "and, in any case, Maraquito is too anxious to stand well with the police to make anytrouble about my coming here. "

Caranby did not reply, but looked steadily at the two men who werewalking slowly up the room. Hale was slender, tall, and dark in color, with a nose like the beak of an eagle. He was perfectly dressed andhad even an elegant appearance. His age might have been forty, but inthe artificial light he looked even younger. Clancy, on the otherhand, wore his clothes with the air of a man unaccustomed to eveningdress. He was light in color, with weak blue eyes and a foolishexpression about his slack mouth. Jennings wondered why a man likeHale should connect himself with such a creature. The men nodded toSenora Gredos, who took little notice of them, and then repaired to thebuffet. Owing to the position of the detective and Caranby, the newarrivals did not see them. Nor for the present was the detectiveanxious to attract their notice. Indeed, he would have stolen awayunperceived, but that he wished to question Hale as to the whereaboutsof Mrs. Herne. 

"It is a long time since I have seen you, " said Caranby, removing hiseyes from the newcomers, and addressing the detective; "you were notan--er--an official when we last met. "

"It is three years ago, " said Jennings; "no. I had money then, butcircumstances over which I had no control soon reduced me to thenecessity of earning my living. As all professions were crowded, Ithought I would turn my talents of observation and deduction to thisbusiness. "

"Do you find it lucrative?"

Jennings smiled and shrugged his shoulders again. "I do very well, " hesaid, "but I have not yet made a fortune. "

"Ah! And Cuthbert told me you wished to marry. "

"I do. But when my fortune will allow me to marry, I don't know. "

Caranby, without raising his voice or looking at his companion, supplied the information. "I can tell you that, " said he, "when youlearn who killed Miss Loach. "

"How is that?"

"On the day you lay your hand on the assassin of that poor woman Ishall give you five thousand pounds. "

Jennings' breath was taken away. "A large sum, " he murmured. 

"She was very dear to me at one time, " said Caranby with emotion. "Iwould have married her but for the machinations of her sister. "

"Mrs. Octagon?"

"Yes! She wanted to become my wife. The story is a long one. "

"Cuthbert told it to me. "

"Quite right, " said Caranby, nodding, "I asked him to. It seems to methat in my romance may be found the motive for the death of SelinaLoach. "

The detective thought over the story. "I don't quite see--"

"Nor do I. All the same--" Caranby waved his hand and abruptly changedthe subject. "Do you know why I came here to-night?"

"No. I did not know you ever came to such places. "

"Nor do I. My life is a quiet one now. I came to see this woman youcall Maraquito. "

"What do you call her?" asked Jennings alertly. 

"Ah, that I can't tell you. But she is no Spaniard. "

"Is she a Jewess by any chance?"

Caranby turned to look directly at his companion. "You ought to beable to tell that from her face, " he said, "can you not see the seal ofJacob impressed there--that strange look which stamps a Hebrew?"

"No, " confessed Jennings, "that is, I can see it now, but I came herefor many a long day before I did guess she was a Jewess. And then itwas only because I learned the truth. "

"How did you learn it?"

The detective related details of his visit to Monsieur Le Beau and thediscovery that Maraquito Gredos was one and the same as CelestineDurand. Caranby listened attentively. "Yes, that is all right, " hesaid, "but her name is Bathsheba Saul. "

"What?" said Jennings, so loud that several people turned to look. 

"Hush!" said Caranby, sinking his voice, "you attract notice. Yes, Imade Cuthbert describe the appearance of this woman. His descriptionvaguely suggested Emilia Saul. I came here to-night to satisfy myself, and I have no doubt but what she is the niece of Emilia--the daughterof Emilia's brother. "

"Who was connected with the coining gang?"

"Ah, you heard of that, did you? Exactly. Her father is dead, Ibelieve, but there sits his daughter. You see in her the image ofEmilia as I loved her twenty years ago. "

"Loved her?" echoed Jennings, significantly. 

"You are right, " responded Caranby with a keen look. "I see Cuthberthas told you all. I never did love Emilia. But she hypnotized me insome way. She was one of those women who could make a man do whatpleased her. And this Bathsheba--Maraquito--Celestine, can do thesame. It is a pity she is an invalid, but on the whole, as she looksrather wicked, mankind is to be congratulated. Were she able to moveabout like an ordinary woman, she would set the world on fire after thefashion of Cleopatra. You need not mention this. "

"I know how to hold my tongue, " said Jennings, rather offended by theimputation that he was a chatterer, "can I come and see you to talkover this matter?"

"By all means. I am at the Avon Hotel. "

"Oh, and by the way, will you allow me to go over that house of yoursat Rexton?"

"If you like. Are you a ghost-hunter also?"

"I am a detective!" whispered Jennings quietly, and with such a lookthat Caranby became suddenly attentive. 

"Ah! You think you may discover something in that house likely to leadto the discovery of the assassin. "

"Yes I do. I can't explain my reasons now. The explanation would taketoo long. However, I see Senora Gredos is beckoning to you. I willspeak to Hale and Clancy. Would you mind telling me what she says toyou?"

"A difficult question to answer, " said Caranby, rising, "as agentleman, I am not in the habit of repeating conversations, especiallywith women. Besides, she can have no connection with this case. "

"On the face of it--no, " replied Jennings doubtfully, "but there is alink--"

"Ah, you mean that she is Emilia's niece. "

"Not exactly that, " answered Jennings, thinking of the photograph. "Iwill tell you what I mean when we next meet. "

At this moment, in response to the imperative beckoning of Maraquito'sfan, Caranby was compelled to go to her. The couch had been wheeledaway from the green table, and a gentleman had taken charge of thebank. Maraquito with her couch retreated to a quiet corner of theroom, and had a small table placed beside her. Here were servedchampagne and cakes, while Lord Caranby, after bowing in hisold-fashioned way, took a seat near the beautiful woman. She gazedsmilingly at Lord Caranby, yet there was a nervous look in her eyes. 

"I have heard of you from Mr. Mallow, " she said flushing. 

"My nephew. He comes here at times. Indeed, " said Caranby gallantly, "it was his report of your beauty that brought me here to-night. "

Maraquito sighed. "The wreck of a beauty, " said she bitterly, "threeyears ago indeed--but I met with an accident. "

"So I heard. A piece of orange peel. "

The woman started. "Who told you that?"

"I heard it indirectly from a professor of dancing. You were a dancer, I believe?"

"Scarcely that, " said Senora Gredos, nervously playing with her fan; "Iwas learning. It was Le Beau who told you?"

"Indirectly, " responded Caranby. 

"I should like to know, " said Maraquito deliberately, "who has takenthe trouble to tell you this. My life--the life of a shatteredinvalid--can scarcely interest anyone. "

"I really forget to whom I am indebted for the information, " said LordCaranby mendaciously, "and a lady of your beauty must always interestmen while they have eyes to see. I have seen ladies like you inAndalusia, but no one so lovely. Let me see, was it in Andalusia orJerusalem?" mused Lord Caranby. 

"I am a Spanish Jewess, " said Maraquito, quickly and uneasily, "I haveonly been in London five years. "

"And met with an accident a year or two after you arrived, " murmuredCaranby; "how very sad. "

Maraquito did not know what to make of the ironical old gentleman. Itseemed to her that he was hostile, but she could take no offence atwhat he said. Moreover, as he was Mallow's uncle, she did not wish toquarrel with him. With a graceful gesture she indicated a glass ofchampagne. "Will you not drink to our better acquaintance?"

"Certainly, " said Caranby without emotion, and sipped a few drops ofthe golden-colored wine. "I hope to see much of you. "

"I reciprocate the hope, " said Maraquito radiantly, "and I'll tell youa secret. I have been consulting specialists, and I find that in a fewmonths I shall be able to walk as well as ever I did. "

"Excellent news, " said Caranby, "I hope you will. "

"And, moreover, " added Maraquito, looking at him from behind her fan;"I shall then give up this place. I have plenty of money, and--"

"You will go back to Spain?"

"That depends. Should I leave my heart in England--"

"How I envy the man you leave it with. "

Maraquito looked down moodily. "He doesn't care for my heart. "

"What a stone he must be. Now I--upon my word I feel inclined to marryand cut my nephew out of the title. "

"Your nephew, " stammered Maraquito, with a flash of her big eyes. 

"You know him well, he tells me, " chatted Caranby garrulously, "ahandsome fellow is Cuthbert. I am sure the lady he is engaged tothinks as much, and very rightly too. "

"Miss Saxon!" cried Maraquito, breaking her fan and looking furious. 

"Ah!" said Caranby coolly, "you know her?"

"I know of her, " said Maraquito bitterly. "Her brother Basil comeshere sometimes, and said his sister was engaged to--but they will nevermarry--never!" she said vehemently. 

"How can you tell that?"

"Because the mother objects to the match. "

"Ah! And who told you so? Mr. Basil Saxon?"

"Yes. He does not approve of it either. "

"I fear that will make little difference. Mallow is set on themarriage. He loves Miss Saxon with all his heart. "

Maraquito uttered a low cry of rage, but managed to control herselfwith an effort. "Do you?" she asked. 

Caranby shrugged his thin shoulders. "I am neutral. So long asCuthbert marries the woman he loves, I do not mind. "

"And what about the woman who loves him?"

"Miss Saxon? Oh, I am sure--"

"I don't mean Miss Saxon, and he will never marry her--never. You knowthat Mr. Mallow is poor. Miss Saxon has no money--"

"Pardon me. I hear her aunt, Miss Loach, who was unfortunatelymurdered at Rexton, has left her six thousand a year. "

Senora Gredos turned quite pale and clenched her hands, but she managedto control herself again with a powerful effort and masked the rage shefelt under a bland, false smile. 

"Oh, that makes a difference, " she said calmly. "I hope they will behappy--if they marry, " she added significantly. 

"Oh, that is quite settled, " said Caranby. 

"There's many a slip between the cup and the lip, " said Maraquitoviciously. "Yonder is Mr. Saxon. Tell him to come to me. "

Caranby bowed and crossed the room to where Basil was talking with afrowning face to Hale. "Don't bother me, " he was saying, "it will beall right now that the will has been read. "

"For your own sake I hope it will be all right, " replied Hale, andCaranby caught the words as he came up. After giving his message, hesauntered round, watching the play, and seemingly listened to no one. But all the time he kept his ears open to hear what Hale and Clancywere talking about. 

The two men were in a corner of the room, and Clancy was expostulatingangrily with Hale. They held their peace when Caranby drifted nearthem, he saw that they were on their guard. Looking round, he espiedJennings playing at a side table, and crossed to him. 

"Permit me to take your place, " said Caranby, and added in a low tone, "watch Hale and Clancy!"

Jennings seized the idea at once and surrendered the chair to the oldnobleman. Then he lighted a cigarette and by degrees strolled acrossthe room to where the two were again talking vigorously. "I tell youif Basil is pressed too hard he will--" Clancy was saying, but shut hismouth as he saw Jennings at his elbow. The detective came forward witha smile, inwardly vexed that he had not been able to hear more. As headvanced he saw Clancy touch Hale on the arm. 

"How are you?" said Jennings, taking the initiative, "we met at thatinquest, I believe. "

"Yes, " said Hale, polite and smiling, "I remember, Mr. Jennings! I hadseen you here before, but I never knew your calling. "

"I don't tell it to everyone, " said Jennings, "How do you do, Mr. Clancy? I hope you are well. An amusing place this. "

"I need amusement, " said Clancy, again assuming his silly smile, "sincethe death of my dear friend. By the way, have you found out who killedher, Mr. Jennings?"

"No. I fear the assassin will never be discovered. " Here the two menexchanged a glance. "I am engaged on other cases. There was only onepoint I wished to learn in connection with Miss Loach's death. "

"What is that?" asked Hale calmly. 

"Was Mrs. Herne in Miss Loach's bedroom on that night?"

"I forget, " said Clancy before Hale could speak. 

"That's a pity, " resumed Jennings. "You see from the fact of the bellhaving been sounded, it struck me that the assassin may have beenconcealed in the bedroom. Now if Mrs. Herne was in that room, shemight have noticed something. "

"I don't think she did, " said Hale hastily. "Mrs. Herne and I leftearly, owing to Clancy here having offended her. Besides, Mrs. Hernetold all she knew at the inquest. "

"All save that point. "

"The question was not asked, " said Clancy. 

"No. I should like to ask Mrs. Herne now, but it seems she has goneaway from Hampstead. "

"I don't care if she has, " grumbled Clancy, "I hated Mrs. Herne. Shewas always quarrelling. Did you call to see her?"

"Yes, but I could not learn where she was. Now, as you are her lawyer, Mr. Hale, you may know. "

"She is at Brighton, " replied Hale readily, "at the Metropolitan Hotel, but she returns to Hampstead in a week. "

Jennings was secretly astonished at his question being thus answered, as he was inclined to suspect the men. However, he took a note of theaddress, and said he would attend to the matter. "But, to tell you thetruth, it is useless, " he said. "The assassin will never be discovered. Moreover, there is no reward, and I should only work for no wages. Youstay at Rose Cottage now, I believe, Mr. Clancy?"

"I do. Mrs. Pill has taken the place. Who told you?"

"I heard from Susan Grant. She was witness, if you remember. And hasMrs. Pill married Barnes yet?"

"I can't say, " said Clancy, looking keenly at the detective. "I am notyet a boarder. I move in after a fortnight. I expect the marriagewill take place before then. Susan Grant told you that also?"

"She did. But I don't expect I'll see her again. Well, gentlemen, Imust go away. I hope you will be lucky. "

Jennings moved away and saw from the eager manner in which the two menbegan to converse that he was the subject of the conversation. Helooked round for Caranby, but could not see him. When he was out ofthe house, however, and on the pavement lighting a cigarette, he felt atouch on his arm and found Caranby waiting for him. The old gentlemanpointed with his cane to a brougham! "Get in, " he said, "I have beenwaiting to see you. There is much to talk about. "

"Maraquito?" asked Jennings eagerly. 

"She has something to do with the matter. Love for Cuthbert has madeher involve herself. How far or in what way I do not know. And whatof Clancy and Hale?"

"Oh, I have put them off the scent. They think I have given up thecase. But they and Maraquito are connected with the matter somehow. Ican't for the life of me see in what way though. "

"There is another woman connected with the matter--Mrs. Octagon. "

"What do you mean?" asked Jennings quickly. 

"I saw her enter Maraquito's house a few moments before you came down. "

CHAPTER XIII

JULIET AT BAY

Caranby's reply took away Jennings' breath. The case was one ofsurprises, but he was not quite prepared for such an announcement. Hewas in the brougham and driving towards the Avon Hotel with the oldnobleman before he found his tongue. 

"What can Mrs. Octagon have to do with Maraquito?" he asked amazed. 

"Ah! that is the question, " replied Caranby, affording no clue. 

"I did not even know she was acquainted with her. "

"Perhaps she gambles. "

"Even if she did, Maraquito's salon would hardly be the place she wouldchoose for her amusement. Moreover, Maraquito does not receive ladies. She has no love for her own sex. "

"What woman has?" murmured Caranby, ironically. Then he added after apause, "You know that Mrs. Octagon was present when Emilia fell fromthe plank in the Rexton house?"

"Yes. She gave evidence at the inquest I understand. But Selina didnot, if Cuthbert informed me rightly. "

"Selina was ill in bed. She could not come. Afterwards she wentabroad. I have often wondered, " added Caranby, "why Selina didn't seekme out when death broke my engagement to Emilia. She loved me, and herfather being dead, there would have been no bar to our marriage. As itwas, she threw over her American and dedicated herself to a hermit'slife at Rexton. "

"You never saw her again?"

"Never. I started to travel, and came to London only at rareintervals. I did write to Selina, asking her to see me, but she alwaysrefused, so I became philosophic and took to celibacy also. "

"Very strange, " murmured Jennings, his thoughts elsewhere, "but thisdoes not explain Mrs. Octagon's visit to the house. "

"I am not so sure of that, if you mean Maraquito's house. Mrs. Octagonmay know, as I do, that Maraquito is the niece of Emilia. "

"Are you sure of that?" asked the detective eagerly. 

"As sure as I am that she is no Spaniard, nor even a Spanish Jewess, asshe claims to be. She doesn't even know the language. Her name, tofit a woman, should terminate in a feminine manner. She should becalled Maraquita, not Maraquito. That little grammatical errordoubtless escaped her notice. But as I was saying, Maraquito--we willstill call her so--may have sent for Mrs. Octagon. "

"Mrs. Octagon, so far as I have seen, is not the woman to obey such acall, " said Jennings grimly. 

"Maraquito may have compelled her to come. "

"For what reason?"

"Well, you see, Emilia was said by Isabella Loach--Mrs. Octagon thatis--to have fallen from the plank. But Mrs. Octagon may have pushedher off. "

"May have murdered her in fact. "

"Quite so. Isabella loved me, and was, and is, a very violent woman. It may be that she pushed Emilia off the plank, and Maraquito, throughher dead father, may have learned the truth. This would give her ahold over Mrs. Octagon. "

"But Selina may have killed Emilia. That would explain her hermitlife, inexplicable in any other way. "

"No, " said Caranby in a shaking voice, "I am sure the woman I lovedwould never have behaved in that way. Isabella killed Emilia--if itwas a murder--and then threatened to denounce Selina unless she gave upthe idea of marrying me. And that, " added Caranby, as though struckwith a new idea, "may be the cause why Selina never answered my letter, and always refused to see or marry me. She may have been--no, I amsure she was--under the thumb of Isabella. Now that Selina is dead, Isabella is under the thumb of Maraquito. "

"This is all theory, " said Jennings impatiently. 

"We can only theorize in our present state of uncertainty, " was thereply of the nobleman. "But my explanation is a reasonable one. "

"I do not deny that. But why should Maraquito send for Mrs. Octagon?"

"Why?" echoed Caranby in surprise, "in order to stop the marriage withCuthbert. Maraquito loves Cuthbert and hates Juliet. I daresay thisis the solution of Mrs. Octagon's strange behavior since the death. Itis Maraquito who is stopping the marriage by threatening to denounceMrs. Octagon for the murder of her aunt. Juliet knows this, and henceher reticence. "

"It might be so, " murmured Jennings, more and more perplexed. "But MissSaxon won't be reticent with me. I'll see her to-morrow. "

"What means will you use to make her speak?"

"I'll tell her that Cuthbert may be arrested for the crime. You know hewas about the place on the night of the murder. "

"Yes. He went down to look after a possible ghost. But I hope youwill not bring Cuthbert into the matter unless it is absolutelynecessary. I don't want a scandal. "

"Rest easy, Lord Caranby. I have the complete control of this affair, and I'll only use Cuthbert's presence at Rexton to make Miss Saxonspeak out. But then, she may not be keeping silence for Cuthbert'ssake, as she can't possibly know he was at Rexton on that night. Myown opinion is that she is shielding her brother. "

"Do you suspect him?" asked Caranby quickly. 

"He may not be guilty of the crime, but he knows something about it, Iam sure. " Here Jennings related how Clancy had said Basil would speakout if pressed too hard. "Now Basil, for some reason, is indifficulties with Hale, who is a scoundrel. But Basil knows somethingwhich Hale and Clancy wish to be kept silent. Hale has been usingthreats to Basil, and the young man has turned restive. Clancy, who isby no means such a fool as he looks, warned Hale to-night. Therefore Itake it, that Basil has some information about the murder. Miss Saxonknows he has, and she is shielding him. "

"But Clancy, Hale and Mrs. Herne were all out of the house when thewoman was stabbed, " said Caranby, "they cannot have anything to do withit. "

"Quite so, on the face of it. But that bell--" Jennings broke off. "Idon't think those three are so innocent as appears. However, Mrs. Herne is coming back to her Hampstead house next week; I'll see her andput questions. "

"Which she will not answer, " said Caranby drily. "Besides, you shouldhave put them at the inquest. "

"The case had not developed so far. I had not so much information as Ihave now, " argued Jennings. 

"Did you examine Mrs. Herne at the inquest?"

"No; she gave her evidence. " Jennings hesitated. "She also wore a veilwhen she spoke, and refused to raise it on account of weak eyes. Bythe way, do you notice that Maraquito uses a strong scent?"

"Yes. Clancy and Hale also use it. "

"Ha!" said Jennings, surprised. "I never knew that. Decidedly, I amgrowing stupid. Well, Mrs. Herne uses that scent also. It is a rarescent. " Then Jennings told what Susan Grant had said. "Now I thinkthere is some significance in this scent which is connected with theassociation of Clancy, Hale, Maraquito and Mrs. Herne. "

"But Mrs. Herne doesn't know Maraquito. "

"I am not so sure of that. Susan Grant thinks she may be Maraquito'smother, she is so like her in an elderly way. Did you know this Mrs. Saul?"

"No. I knew the brother who came to speak to me after the death of hissister, and who afterwards was put in jail for coining. His wife Inever met. I never even heard of her. But Maraquito takes after herfather in looks and he was like Emilia. "

"It is a difficult matter to unravel, " said Jennings. "I think Mrs. Herne refused to raise her veil at the inquest so that the likenessbetween her and Maraquito might not be observed. I was there, and ifMrs. Herne is what I say, she would have been put on her guard byMaraquito. Though to be sure, " added Jennings in a vexed tone, "Maraquito did not know then, and perhaps does not know now, that I ama detective. "

"Clancy and Hale will enlighten her, " said Caranby, as the vehiclestopped, "will you not come in?"

"Not to-night. I will do myself the honor of calling on you later, when I have more to say. At present I am going to sort out whatevidence I have. To-morrow I'll call on Miss Saxon. "

"Call on Mrs. Octagon, " were Caranby's parting words, "believe me, sheknows the truth, but I'll tell you one thing. Maraquito did not killMiss Loach, for the death of Selina has given Juliet enough money tomarry Cuthbert, independent of Mrs. Octagon's wishes, and Maraquitowould never have brought that about. "

"Yet all the same Miss Saxon will not marry. "

Caranby made a gesture to show that the matter was beyond hiscomprehension, and ascended the steps of the hotel. Jennings, deep inthought, walked away, wondering how he was to disentangle the skeinwhich Fate had placed in his hand to unravel. 

That night the detective surveyed the situation. So far as he couldsee, he seemed no further advanced than he had been at the inquest. Certainly he had accumulated a mass of evidence, but it threw no lighton the case. From Caranby's romance, it seemed that the dead woman hadbeen connected with the Saul family. That seemed to link her withMaraquito, who appeared to be the sole surviving member. In her turn, Maraquito was connected in some underhand way with Mrs. Octagon, seeingthat the elder woman came by stealth to the Soho house. Mrs. Octagonwas connected with the late Emilia Saul by a crime, if what Caranbysurmised was correct, and her daughter was forbidden to marry Mallow, who was the nephew of the man who had been the lover both of Miss Loachand Emilia Saul. Hale and Clancy were playing some game with BasilSaxon, who was the son of Mrs. Octagon, and he was associated withMaraquito. Thus it would seem that all these people were connected invarious ways with the dead woman. But the questions were: Had one ofthem struck the fatal blow, and if so, who had been daring enough to doso?

"Again, " murmured Jennings, "who touched that bell? Not the assassin, who would scarcely have been fool enough to call anyone to examine hiswork before he had time to escape. Certainly it may have been a woman!Yes! I believe a man killed Miss Loach, for some reason I have yet tolearn, and a woman, out of jealousy, wishing to get him into the gripof the law, touched the bell so that witnesses might appear before theassassin could escape. But who struck the blow?"

This was a difficult question. It could not have been Basil Saxon, forhe was at the Marlow Theatre on that night with his sister. Cuthberthad no motive, and Jennings quite believed his explanation as to hisexploration of the park between the hours of ten and eleven. Hale, Clancy and Mrs. Herne were all out of the house before the blow hadbeen struck, and, moreover, there was no reason why they should murdera harmless old lady. Maraquito confined to her couch could notpossibly have anything to do with the crime. Mrs. Octagon did hate hersister, but she certainly would not risk killing her. In fact, Jenningsexamining into the motives and movements of those mentioned, could findno clue to the right person. He began to believe that the crime hadbeen committed by someone who had not yet appeared--someone whosemotive might be found in the past of the dead woman. Say a member ofthe Saul family. 

But Maraquito was the sole surviving member, and on the face of it wasinnocent. As yet Jennings did not know whether Mrs. Herne was hermother, in spite of the resemblance which Susan claimed to have seen. Also, Caranby said that Maraquito resembled her father, and thefeatures of the Saul family were so strongly marked that it wasimpossible the elder Saul could have married a woman resembling him. "Though, to be sure, he might have married a relative, " said Jennings, and went to bed more perplexed than ever. 

Next day, before calling at the "Shrine of the Muses, " he went toScotland Yard, and there made inquiries about the rumor of false coinsbeing in circulation. These appeared to be numerous and were admirablymade. Also from France and Russia and Italy came reports that falsemoney was being scattered about. The chief of the detective staffpossessed these coins of all sorts, and Jennings was forced to own thatthey were admirable imitations. He went away, wondering if this crimecould be connected in any way with the circulation of false money. "Maraquito is a member of the Saul family, who appear to have beenexpert coiners, " said Jennings, on his way to Kensington, "and, according to Le Beau, she gave him a false sovereign. I wonder if shekeeps up the business, and if Clancy and Hale, together with Mrs. Herne, this supposititious mother, have to do with the matter. Thatunfinished house would make an admirable factory, and the presence ofthe ghosts would be accounted for if a gang of coiners was discoveredthere. But there is a fifteen-feet wall round the house, and the parkis a regular jungle. Cuthbert examined the place by day and night andcould see nothing suspicious. I wonder if Miss Loach, living near theplace, learned that a gang was there. If so, it is quite conceivablethat she might have been murdered by one of them. But how the deucedid anyone enter the house? The door certainly opened at half-past teno'clock, either to let someone in or someone out. But the bell did notsound for half an hour later. Can there be any outlet to that house, and is it connected with the unfinished mansion of Lord Caranby, usedas a factory?"

This was all theory, but Jennings could deduce no other explanationfrom the evidence he had collected. He determined to search theunfinished house, since Caranby had given him permission, and also tomake an inspection of Rose Cottage, though how he was to enter on aplausible excuse he did not know. But Fate gave him a chance which hewas far from expecting. On arriving at the "Shrine of the Muses" hewas informed that Miss Saxon had gone to Rexton. This was naturalenough, since she owned the cottage, but Jennings was inclined tosuspect Juliet from her refusal to marry Cuthbert or to explain herreason, and saw something suspicious in all she did. He therefore tookthe underground railway at once to Rexton, and, alighting at thestation, went to Crooked Lane through the by-path, which ran throughthe small wood of pines. On looking at the cottage he saw that thewindows were open, that carpets were spread on the lawn, and that thedoor was ajar. It seemed that Mrs. Pill was indulging in the springcleaning alluded to by Susan Grant. 

At the door Jennings met Mrs. Pill herself, with her arms bare and alarge coarse apron protecting her dress. She was dusty and untidy andcross. Nor did her temper grow better when she saw the detective, whomshe recognized as having been present at the inquest. 

"Whyever 'ave you come 'ere, sir?" asked she. "I'm sure there ain't nomore corpses for you to discover. "

"I wish to see Miss Saxon. I was told she was here. "

"Well, she is, " admitted Mrs. Pill, placing her red arms akimbo, "notas I feel bound to tell it, me not being in the witness-box. She 'avecome to see me about my rent. An' you, sir?"

"I wish to speak to Miss Saxon, " said Jennings patiently. 

Mrs. Pill rubbed her nose and grumbled. "She's up in the attics, " saidshe, "lookin' at some dresses left by pore Miss Loach, and there ain'ta room in the 'ouse fit to let you sit down in, by reason of no chairsbeing about. 'Ave you come to tell me who killed mistress?"

"No! I don't think the assassin will ever be discovered. "

"Ah, well. We're all grass, " wailed Mrs. Pill; "but if you wish to seeMiss Saxon, see her you will. Come this way to the lower room, an'I'll go up to the attics. "

"Let me go, too, and it will save Miss Saxon coming down, " saidJennings, wishing to take Juliet unawares. 

"Ah, now you speaks sense. Legs is legs when stairs are about, whatever you may say, " said Mrs. Pill, leading the way, "an' you'llexcuse me, Mr. Policeman, if I don't stop, me 'avin' a lot of work todo, as Susan's gone and Geraldine with 'er, not to speak of my 'usbin'that is to be, he havin' gone to see Mrs. Herne, drat her!"

"Why has he gone to see Mrs. Herne?" asked Jennings quickly. 

"Arsk me another, " said the cook querulously, "he's a secret one isThomas Barnes, whatever you may say. He comes and he goes and makesmoney by 'is doin's, whatever they may be. For not a word do I 'ear of'is pranks. I've a good mind to remain Pill to the end of my days, seein' as he keeps secrets. "

Jennings said no more, but secretly wondered why Thomas had gone tovisit Mrs. Herne. He determined to call on that lady at once and seeif he could learn what message Thomas had taken her and from whom. Buthe had not much time for thought as Mrs. Pill opened a door to theright of a narrow passage and pushed him in. "An' now I'll go back tomy dustin', " said the cook, hurrying away. 

Jennings found himself face to face with Juliet. She was standing on achair with her hand up on the cornice. As soon as she saw him she camedown with rather a white face. The room was filled with trunks andlarge deal boxes, and some were open, revealing clothes. Dust laythick on others apparently locked, and untouched for many years. Thelight filtered into the dusty attic through a dirty window, and thefloor was strewn with straw and other rubbish. Miss Saxon did not knowthe detective and her face resumed its normal color and expression. 

"Who are you and what do you want?" she asked, casting a nervous lookat the cornice. 

Jennings removed his hat. "I beg your pardon, " he said politely. "Mrs. Pill showed me up here when I asked to see you. "

"She had no right, " said Juliet, looking at her dress, which was ratherdusty, "come downstairs and tell me who you are. "

She appeared anxious to get him out of the room, and walked before himout of the door. As she passed through Jennings contrived to shut itas though her dress had caught the lower part. Then he lightly turnedthe key. He could hear Juliet fumbling at the lock. "What is thematter?" she called through. 

"The lock has got hampered in some way, " said Jennings, rattling thekey, "one moment, I'll look at it carefully. "

As he said this he made one bound to the chair upon which she had beenstanding and reached his hand to the cornice at which she had looked. Passing his hand rapidly along it came into contact with an object longand sharp. He drew it down. It was a brand-new knife of the sortcalled bowie. Jennings started on seeing this object, but having notime to think (for he did not wish to rouse her suspicions), he slippedthe knife in his vest and ran again to the door. After a lot ofostentatious fumbling he managed to turn the key again and open thedoor. Juliet was flushed and looked at him angrily. But she cast nosecond look at the cornice, which showed Jennings that she did notsuspect his ruse. 

"Your dress caught the door and shut it, " he explained, "the lock seemsto be out of order. "

"I never knew it was, " said Juliet, examining it; "it always lockedeasy enough before. "

"Hum, " thought Jennings, "so you have been here before and you havekept the door locked on account of the knife probably, " but he lookedsmilingly at the girl all the time. 

"I am sorry, " he said, when she desisted from her examination. 

"It's my fault, " said Juliet unsuspiciously, and closed the door. Sheled the way along the passage and down the stairs. "Who are you?" sheasked, turning round half way down. 

"I am a friend of Mallow's, " said the detective. 

"I have never met you?"

"Yet I have been to your house, Miss Saxon. Perhaps my name, MilesJennings, may--"

The girl started with a cry. "You are a detective!" she gasped. 

CHAPTER XIV

MRS. OCTAGON EXPLAINS

The young girl leaned against the wall, white, and with closed eyes. Alarmed by her appearance, Jennings would have assisted her, but shewaved him off and staggered down the stairs. By a powerful effort shemanaged to subdue her feelings, and when in the hall turned to him witha sickly smile. "I am glad to see you, " she said. "Mr. Mallow hasoften spoken to you of me. You are his friend, I know. "

"His best friend, in spite of the difference in our position. "

"Oh, " Juliet waved that objection aside, "I know you are a gentlemanand took up this work merely as a hobby. "

"I fear not, " smiled Jennings. "To make money. "

"Not in a very pleasant way. However, as you are Mr. Mallow's friend, I am glad you have this case in hand, " she fixed her eyes on thedetective. "Have you discovered anything?" she asked anxiously. 

"Nothing much, " replied Jennings, who rapidly decided to say nothingabout his discovery of the knife. "I fear the truth will never befound out, Miss Saxon. I suppose you have no idea?"

"I, " she said, coloring, "what put such a thing into your head? I amabsolutely ignorant of the truth. Did you come to ask me about--"

"That amongst other things, " interrupted Jennings, seeing Mrs. Pill'sbulky figure at the door. "Can we not talk in some quieter place?"

"Come downstairs, " said Juliet, moving, "but the rooms are unfurnishedas Mrs. Pill is cleaning them. The house is quiet enough. "

"So I see, " said the detective, following his companion down to thebasement, "only yourself and Mrs. Pill. "

"And my mother, " she answered. "We came here to see about somebusiness connected with the letting of the cottage. My mother is lyingdown in the old part of the house. Do you wish to see her?"

"No. I wish to see you. "

By this time they had entered the sitting-room in which the crime hadbeen committed. The carpets were up, the furniture had been removed, the walls were bare. Jennings could have had no better opportunity ofseeking for any secret entrance, the existence of which he suspected byreason of the untimely sounding of the bell. But everything seemed tobe in order. The floor was of oak, and there was--strangely enough--nohearth-stone. The French windows opened into the conservatory, nowdenuded of its flowers, and stepping into this Jennings found that theglass roof was entirely closed, save for a space for ventilation. Theassassin could not have entered or escaped in that way, and there wasno exit from the room save by the door. 

"Would you like to see the bedroom?" asked Juliet sarcastically. "Isee you are examining the place, though I should have thought you wouldhave done so before. "

"I did at the time, " replied Jennings calmly, "but the place was thenfull of furniture and the carpets were down. Let me see the bedroom byall means. "

Juliet led the way into the next room, which was also bare. There wasone window hermetically sealed and with iron shutters. This looked outon to a kind of well, and light was reflected from above by means of asheet of silvered tin. No one could have got out by the window, andeven then, it would have been difficult to have climbed up the wellwhich led to the surface of the ground. The floor and walls had nomarks of entrances, and Jennings returned to the sitting-roomcompletely baffled. Then Juliet spoke again. "I cannot help wonderingwhat you expect to find, " she observed. 

"I thought there might be a secret entrance, " said Jennings, looking ather keenly, "but there seems to be none. "

Miss Saxon appeared genuinely astonished and looked round. "I neverheard of such a thing, " she said, puzzled. "And what would a quiet oldlady like my aunt need with a secret entrance?"

"Well, you see, the assassin could not have sounded that bell and haveescaped by the front door. Had he done so, he would have met SusanGrant answering the call. Therefore, he must have escaped in someother way. The windows of both rooms are out of the question. "

"Yes. But I understood that the assassin escaped at half-past ten. "

"According to the evidence it looks like that. But who then soundedthe bell?"

Juliet shook her head. "I can't say, " she said with a sigh. "The wholecase is a mystery to me. "

"You don't know who killed Miss Loach? Please do not look soindignant, Miss Saxon. I am only doing my duty. "

The girl forced a smile. "I really do not know, nor can I think whatmotive the assassin can have had. He must have had some reason, youknow, Mr. Jennings. "

"You say 'he. ' Was the assassin then a man?"

"I suppose so. At the inquest the doctor said that no woman could havestruck such a blow. But I am really ignorant of all, save whatappeared in the papers. I am the worst person in the world to apply tofor information, sir. "

"Perhaps you are, so far as the crime is concerned. But there is onequestion I should like to ask you. An impertinent one. "

"What is it?" demanded the girl, visibly nervous. 

"Why do you refuse to marry Mallow?"

"That is very impertinent, " said Juliet, controlling herself; "so muchso that I refuse to reply. "

"As a gentleman, I take that answer, " said Jennings mildly, "but as adetective I ask again for your reason. "

"I fail to see what my private affairs have to do with the law. "

Jennings smiled at this answer and thought of the knife which he hadfound. A less cautious man would have produced it at once and haveinsisted on an explanation. But Jennings wished to learn to whom theknife belonged before he ventured. He was sure that it was not theproperty of Juliet, who had no need for such a dangerous article, andhe was equally sure that as she was shielding someone, she wouldacknowledge that she had bought the weapon. He was treading onegg-shells, and it behooved him to be cautious. "Very good, " he saidat length, "we will pass that question for the present, though asMallow's friend I am sorry. Will you tell me to whom you gave thephotograph of Mallow which he presented to you?"

"How do you know about that?" asked Miss Saxon quickly. "And why doyou ask?"

"Because I have seen the photograph. "

"That is impossible, " she answered coldly; "unless you were in thishouse before the death of my aunt. "

"Ah! then it was to Miss Loach you gave it, " said Jennings, wonderinghow Maraquito had become possessed of it. 

"It was; though I do not recognize your right to ask such a question, Mr. Jennings. My late aunt was very devoted to Mr. Mallow and anxiousthat our marriage should take place. He gave me the photograph--"

"With an inscription, " put in the detective. 

"Certainly, " she rejoined, flushing, "with an inscription intended forme alone. I was unwilling to part with the photograph, but my auntbegged so eagerly for it that I could not refuse it. "

"How did she see it in the first instance?"

"I brought it to show her after Mr. Mallow gave it to me. May I askwhere you saw it?"

Jennings looked at her with marked significance. "I saw it in thehouse of a woman called Maraquito. "

"And how did it get there?"

"I can't tell you. Do you know this woman?"

"I don't even know her name. Who is she?"

"Her real name is Senora Gredos and she claims to be a Spanish Jewess. She keeps a kind of gambling salon. To be plain with you, Miss Saxon, I really did not see the photograph in her house. But a girl calledSusan Grant--"

"I know. My late aunt's parlor-maid. "

"Well, the photograph was in her box. I found it when the servantsinsisted on their boxes being searched. She confessed that she hadtaken it from her last mistress, who was Senora Gredos. As you gave itto Miss Loach, I should be glad to know how it came into the possessionof this woman. "

"I really can't tell you, no more than I can say why Susan took it. What was her reason?"

"Mr. Mallow is a handsome man--" began Jennings, when she stopped himwith a gesture. 

"Do you mean to say--no, I'll never believe it. "

"I was not going to say anything against Mallow's character. But thisfoolish girl cherished a foolish infatuation for Mallow. She saw himat Senora Gredos' house--"

"Ah!" said Juliet, turning pale. "I remember now. Basil mentionedthat Cuthbert gambled, but he did not say where. "

"Mallow gambled a little at Maraquito's, as did your brother. The onlydifference is that Mallow could afford to lose and your brother couldnot. Are you sure you never heard the name of Maraquito?"

"Quite sure, " said Juliet, meeting his gaze so calmly that he saw shewas speaking the truth. "Well, I understand how you got thephotograph, but how did this woman get it? I never heard my auntmention her, either as Maraquito or as Senora Gredos. "

"Was your aunt open with you?"

"Perfectly open. She had nothing in her life to conceal. "

"I am not so sure of that, " murmured the detective. "Well, I cannotsay how Maraquito became possessed of this photograph. "

Juliet shrugged her shoulders. "In that case we may dismiss thematter, " she said, wiping her dry lips; "and I can't see what thephotograph has to do with this crime. "

"I can't see it myself, but one never knows. "

"Do you accuse Mr. Mallow?"

"Supposing I did. I know Mr. Mallow was near this place on the nightof the murder and about the hour. "

Juliet leaned against the wall and turned away her face. "It is nottrue. What should bring him there?"

"He had business connected with the unfinished house at the back ownedby Lord Caranby. But I don't suppose anyone saw him. "

"How do you know he was here then?" asked Juliet, gray and agitated. 

"He confessed to me that he had been here. But we can talk of thatlater--"

Juliet interposed. "One moment, " she cried, "do you accuse him?"

"As yet I accuse no one. I must get more facts together. By the way, Miss Saxon, will you tell the where you were on that night?"

"Certainly, " she replied in a muffled voice, "at the Marlow Theatrewith my brother Basil. "

"Quite so. But I don't think the play was to your liking. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, " said Jennings slowly, and watching the changing color of herface, "in your house you do not favor melodrama. I wonder you went tosee this one at the Marlow Theatre. "

"The writer is a friend of ours, " said Juliet defiantly. 

"In that case, you might have paid him the compliment of remaining tillthe fall of the curtain. "

Juliet trembled violently and clung to the wall. "Go on, " she saidfaintly. 

"You had a box, as I learned from the business manager. But shortlyafter eight your brother left the theatre: you departed after nine. "

"I went to see an old friend in the neighborhood, " stammered Juliet. 

"Ah, and was that neighborhood this one, by any chance? In ahansom--which I believe you drove away in--one can reach this placefrom the Marlow Theatre in a quarter of an hour. "

"I--I--did not come here. "

"Then where did you go?"

"I decline to say. "

"Where did your brother go?"

"He did not tell me. Did the manager inform you of anything else?"

"He merely told me that you and your brother left the theatre as Istated. You decline to reveal your movements. "

"I do, " said Juliet, clenching her hands and looking pale but defiant. "My private business can have nothing to do with you. As you seek toconnect me with this case, it is your business to prove what you say. I refuse to speak. "

"Will your brother refuse?"

"You had better ask him, " said Miss Saxon carelessly, but with aneffort to appear light-hearted. "I don't inquire into my brother'sdoings, Mr. Jennings. "

"Yet you heard about his gambling. "

"I don't see what that has to do with the matter in hand. Do youaccuse me and Basil of having killed my aunt?"

"I accuse no one, as yet, " said Jennings, chagrined at her reticence, "I said that before. Did you not speak with your aunt on that night?"

"No, " said Juliet positively. "I certainly did not. "

Jennings changed his tactics, and became apparently friendly. "Well, Miss Saxon, I won't bother you any more. I am sure you have told meall you know. " Juliet winced. "Have you any idea if the weapon withwhich the crime was committed has been discovered?"

"That is a strange question for a detective to ask. "

"A very necessary one. Well?"

"I know nothing about it, " she said in an almost inaudible voice. 

"Do you know Mrs. Herne?"

"I have met her once or twice here. "

"Did you like her?"

"I can hardly say. I did not take much notice of her. She appeared tobe agreeable, but she was over-dressed and used a perfume which Idisliked. "

"Had you ever met anyone using such a perfume before?"

"No. It was strong and heavy. Quite a new scent to me. The odor gaveme a headache!"

"Was Mrs. Herne a great friend of your aunt's?"

"I believe so. She came here with Mr. Hale and Mr. Clancy to play. "

"Hale, " said Jennings, "I forgot Hale. Does he still retain yourbusiness, Miss Saxon?"

"No. I have given over the management of my property to our ownlawyer. Mr. Hale was quite willing. "

"Does your brother Basil still make a friend of Mr. Hale?"

"I don't know, " said Juliet, changing color again. "I do not ask aboutBasil's doings. I said that before. Hark, " she added, anxious to putan end to the conversation, "my mother is coming. "

"I should like to see Mrs. Octagon, " said Jennings. 

"She will be here in a few minutes. I shall tell her, " and Juliet, without a look, left the room, evidently glad to get away. 

Jennings frowned and took out the knife at which he looked. "She knowsa good deal about this affair, " he murmured. "Who is she shielding? Isuspect her brother. Otherwise she would not have hidden the knife. Iwonder to whom it belongs. Here are three notches cut in thehandle--there is a stain on the blade--blood, I suppose. "

He got no further in his soliloquy, for Mrs. Octagon swept into theroom in her most impressive manner. She was calm and cool, and herface wore a smile as she advanced to the detective. "My dear Mr. Jennings, " she said, shaking him warmly by the hand, "I am so glad tosee you, though I really ought to be angry, seeing you came to my houseso often and never told me what you did. "

"You mightn't have welcomed me had you known, " said he dryly. 

"I am above such vulgar prejudices, " said Mrs. Octagon, waving her handairily, "and I am sure your profession is an arduous one. When Juliettold me that you were looking into this tragic death of my poor sisterI was delighted. So consoling to have to do with a gentleman in anunpleasant matter like this. Why have you come?"

This last question was put sharply, and Mrs. Octagon fastened her bigblack eyes on the calm face of the detective. "Just to have a look atthe house, " he said readily, for he was certain Juliet would not reporttheir conversation to her mother. 

Mrs. Octagon shrugged her shoulders. "A very nice little house, thoughrather commonplace in its decoration; but my poor sister never did havemuch taste. Have you discovered anything likely to lead to thediscovery of her assassin?"

"I am ashamed to say I am quite in the dark, " replied Jennings. "Idon't suppose the truth will ever be discovered. "

The woman appeared relieved, but tried to assume a sad expression. "Oh, how very dreadful, " she said, "she will lie in her untimely grave, unavenged. Alas! Alas!"

But Jennings was not mystified by her tragic airs. 

He was certain she knew something and feared lest it should come to hisknowledge. Therefore he resolved to startle her by a blunt question. "I never knew you were acquainted with Maraquito!"

Mrs. Octagon was not at all taken aback. "I don't know such creaturesas a rule, " she said calmly. "What makes you think I do?"

"I saw you enter her house one night. "

"Last night, " said Mrs. Octagon coolly. "Yes. Maraquito, or SenoraGredos, or whatever she calls herself, told me you had just gone. Isaw her in a little room off the salon where the play went on. "

The detective was surprised by this ready admission, and at once becamesuspicious. It would seem that Mrs. Octagon, expecting such aquestion, was uncommonly ready to answer it. "May I ask why you went tosee this woman?" he demanded. 

An innocent woman would have resented this question, but Mrs. Octagonostentatiously seized the opportunity to clear herself, and therebyincreased Jennings' suspicions. "Certainly, " she said in an open mannerand with a rather theatrical air, "I went to beg my son's life fromthis fair siren. "

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Basil, " said Mrs. Octagon, in her deep, rich voice, "is too fond ofthis fair stranger--Spanish, is she not?"

"She says she is, " said the cautious Jennings. 

Mrs. Octagon shot a glance of suspicion at him, but at once resumed herengaging manner. "The foolish boy loves her, " she went on, claspingher hands and becoming poetical, "his heart is captured by her starryeyes and he would wed her for her loveliness. But I can't have thatsort of thing, " she added, becoming prosaic, "so I went and told her Iwould denounce her gambling salon to the police if she did notsurrender my son. She has done so, and I am happy. Ah, Mr. Jennings, had you a mother's heart, " she laid her hand on her own, "you wouldknow to what lengths it will lead a woman!"

"I am glad your son is safe, " said Jennings, with apparent cordiality, though he wondered how much of this was true. "Maraquito is not a goodwife for him. Besides, she is a cripple. "

"Yes, " said Mrs. Octagon tragically, "she is a cripple. "

Something in the tone of her voice made Jennings look up and created anew suspicion in his heart. However, he said no more, having learnedas much as was possible from this tricky woman. "I must go now, " hesaid, "I have examined the house. "

Mrs. Octagon led the way upstairs. "And have you any clue?"

"None! None! I wish you could assist me. "

"I?" she exclaimed indignantly, "no, my sister and I were not friends, and I will have nothing to do with the matter. Good-day, " and Mrs. Octagon sailed away, after ushering the detective out of the door. 

Jennings departed, wondering at this change of front. As he passedthrough the gate a fair, stupid-looking man entered. He nodded toJennings, touching his hat, and at the same time a strong perfumesaluted the detective's nostrils. "Thomas Barnes uses Hikui also, "murmured Jennings, walking away. "Humph! Is he a member of the gang?"

CHAPTER XV

A DANGEROUS ADMISSION

Jennings had once witnessed a drama by Victorien Sardou, entitled--inthe English version--Diplomacy. Therein a woman was unmasked by meansof a scent. It seemed to him that perfume also played a part in thiscase. Why should Clancy, Mrs. Herne, Hale, Maraquito and Thomas use aspecial odor? "I wonder if they meet in the dark?" thought thedetective, "and recognize each other by the scent. It seems veryimprobable, yet I can't see why they use it otherwise. That womenshould use perfumes, even the same perfume, is right enough. They lovethat sort of thing, but why should men do so, especially a man in theposition of Thomas? I'll follow up this clue, if clue it is!"

The conversation with Juliet convinced Jennings that she knew ofsomething connected with the matter, but was determined to hold hertongue. The fact that this knife was in her possession showed that shewas aware of some fact likely to lead to the detection of the assassin. She might have found it when she came after the death to Rose Cottage, but in that case, had she nothing to conceal, she would have shown itto the police. Instead of this, she hid it in the attic. Jenningscongratulated himself on his dexterity in securing this piece ofevidence. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the very knifewith which Miss Loach had been stabbed. 

"And by a man, " thought Jennings. "No woman would have such a weaponin her possession; and if she bought one to accomplish a crime, shewould purchase a stiletto or a pistol. It would take a considerableexercise of muscle to drive this heavy knife home. "

Jennings considered that the only person who could make Juliet speakwas Cuthbert. It was true that she already had declined to make aconfidant of him, but now, when there was a chance of his beingarrested--as Jennings had hinted--she might be inclined to confess all, especially if it was Cuthbert she was shielding. But the detectivefancied her brother might be the culprit. On the night of the murder, both had left the Marlow Theatre, which was near Rexton, and Julietdeclined to say where they went. It might be that both had been on thespot about the time of the commission of the crime. Again, unless MissLoach had admitted her assailant, he must have had a latch-key to lethimself in. From the fact that the poor woman had been found with thecards on her lap in the same position in which Susan had left her, Jennings was inclined to think that the assassin had struck the blow atonce, and then had left the house at the half hour. But how had heentered? There did not appear to be any secret entrance, and no onecould enter by the windows; nor by the door either without a latch-key. The further Jennings examined into the matter, the more he was puzzled. Never had he undertaken so difficult a case. But the very difficultymade him the more resolute to unravel the mystery. 

For two or three days he went about, asking for information concerningthe coining, and reading up details in old newspapers about theexploits of the Saul family. Also, he went occasionally to the salonof Senora Gredos. There he constantly met Hale and Clancy. Also Basilcame at times. That young man now adopted a somewhat insolent demeanortowards the pair, which showed that he was now out of their clutchesand no longer had cause to fear them. Jennings felt sure that Basilcould explain much, and he half determined to get a warrant out for hisarrest in the hope that fear might make him confess. But, unfortunately, he had not sufficient information to procure such athing, and was obliged to content himself with keeping a watch on youngSaxon. But the man sent to spy reported nothing suspicious aboutBasil's doings. 

In this perplexity of mind Jennings thought he would see Cuthbert andrelate what he had discovered. Also he hoped that Mallow mightinterview Juliet and learn the truth from her. But an inquiry atMallow's rooms showed that he had gone out of town for a few days withhis uncle, and would not be back for another two. Pending this return, Jennings sorted his evidence. 

Then he was surprised to receive a letter from Mrs. Herne, stating thatshe had returned to her place at Hampstead, and asking him to call. "Iunderstand from Mr. Clancy, " wrote Mrs. Herne, "that you wish to see mein connection with the death of my poor friend. I shall beat hometo-morrow at four. " Then followed the signature, and Jennings put awaythe note with a rather disappointed feeling. If he was right insuspecting Mrs. Herne, she certainly felt little fear, else she wouldhave declined to see him. After all, his supposition that the twowomen and the four men formed a gang of coiners, who worked in theunfinished house, might turn out to be wrong. "But I'll see Mrs. Herneand have a long talk with her, " said Jennings to himself. "And thenI'll show the knife to Cuthbert Mallow. Also I may examine theunfinished house. If coiners have been there, or are there, I'll soonfind out. Mallow hunting for ghosts, probably, made only a cursoryexamination. And I'll take Drudge to Hampstead with me. "

Drudge was a detective who adored Jennings and thought him the verygreatest man in England. He was usually employed in watching thosewhom his superior suspected, and Jennings could always rely on hisorders being honestly executed. In this instance Drudge was to waitsome distance from the house of Mrs. Herne until Jennings came outagain. Then on the conversation which had taken place would dependfurther orders. The man was silent and lean, with a pair of sad eyes. He followed Jennings like a dog and never spoke unless he was requiredto answer a question. 

Mrs. Herne did not possess a house of her own, which struck thedetective as strange, considering she appeared to be a wealthy woman. She always wore costly dresses and much jewellery, yet she was contentwith two rooms, one to sit in and the other to sleep in. Certainly thesitting-room (which was all Jennings saw) was well furnished, and sheapparently thoroughly appreciated the luxuries of life. There was abow-window which commanded a fine prospect of the Heath, and here Mrs. Herne was seated. The blinds were half-way down, so that the brilliantsunlight could not penetrate into the somewhat dusky room. When thedetective entered Mrs. Herne excused the semi-darkness. "But my eyesare somewhat weak, " she said, motioning him to a seat. "However, ifyou wish for more light--" she laid her hand on the blind-cord. 

"Not on my account, " said Jennings, who did not wish to appear undulysuspicious. "I am quite satisfied. "

"Very well, then, " replied Mrs. Herne, resuming her seat and crossingher delicate hands on her lap. "We can talk. I am at your orders. "

She was arrayed in a blue silk dress of a somewhat vivid hue, butsoftened with black lace. She had a brooch of diamonds at her throat, a diamond necklace round it, bracelets set with the same gems and manycostly rings. Such a mass of jewelry looked rather out of place in thedaylight, but the twilight of the room made the glitter lesspronounced. Jennings thought that Mrs. Herne must have Jewish blood inher veins, seeing she was so fond of gems. Certainly she was very likeMaraquito, even to having eyebrows almost meeting over her thin highnose. But these, as was her hair, were gray, and her skin lacked therich coloring of the younger woman. Jennings rapidly took in theresemblance, and commenced the conversation, more convinced than everthat there was some bond of blood between Mrs. Herne and Senora Gredos. This belief helped him not a little. 

"I daresay Mr. Clancy told you why I wished to see you?"

Mrs. Herne nodded in a stately way. "Yes. You wish to know if I wasin the bedroom of my friend on that evening. Well, I was. I went infor a few minutes to take off my cloak and hat, and then I went inagain to resume them. "

"Did you see anyone in the room?"

"No. Had there been anyone I should certainly have seen the person. But there is no place where anyone could hide. "

"Not even a cupboard?"

"There was a wardrobe, for Miss Loach disliked cupboards, as shethought clothes did not get sufficiently aired in them. A wardrobe, and of course anyone might have hid under the bed, but I did not look. And I don't think, " added Mrs. Herne, examining her rings, "that anyonewas about. Miss Loach was always very suspicious, and searched thehouse regularly. "

"Did she, then, anticipate anyone hiding--a burglar, for instance?"

"Yes, I think she did. Her nature was warped from certain events whichhappened in her early life, and she suspected everyone. "

"Was she on bad terms with anyone?"

"No. She never quarrelled. I am the quarrelsome person, " said thelady, smiling. "I quarrelled with Mr. Clancy, who is a rude man. Butwe have made it up since, as he has apologized. It was Mr. Clancy whotold me of your wish to see me. Do you want to ask anything else?"

"If you do not mind. "

"On the contrary, I am anxious to afford you all the information in mypower. Nothing would give me more satisfaction than to see themurderer of my dear friend brought to justice. "

She spoke with great feeling, and there was an unmistakable ring oftruth about her speech. Jennings began to think he must be wrong insuspecting her to have anything to do with the death. All the same, hewas on his guard. It would not do to let Mrs. Herne, clever as shewas, pull wool over his eyes. "Have you any idea who killed MissLoach?" he asked. 

"No. She was quite well on that evening, and did not anticipate deathin any way--least of all in a violent form. Mr. Hale, Mr. Clancy andmyself would have been with her till nearly midnight had I notquarrelled with Mr. Clancy. As it was, Mr. Hale escorted me home abouthalf-past nine, and I understand Mr. Clancy left about ten. When MissLoach was not playing whist or bridge she never cared about havinganyone in her house. She was rather a misanthrope. "

"Did she expect anyone that evening?"

"No. At all events, she said nothing about expecting anyone. "

"Did she expect her nephew?"

"Mr. Basil Saxon?" said Mrs. Herne, looking surprised. "Not that I amaware of. She did not mention his name. To be sure, they were on badterms, and she had forbidden him the house. No, I do not think sheexpected him. "

"Do you know the cause of the quarrel?"

"It had something to do with money. I believe Miss Loach helped Mr. Saxon, who was rather extravagant, but she grew weary of his demandsand refused to help him further. He lost his temper and said thingswhich forced her to order him out of the house. "

"Did he utter any threats?"

"Miss Loach never said that he did. Mr. Jennings, " remarked the oldlady, bending her brows, "is it possible you suspect that young man?"

"No. I suspect no one at present. But I am bound to make inquiries inevery direction, and of course, if Mr. Saxon is of a passionate temper, he might wish to avenge himself for being forbidden the house. "

"He has a temper, " said Mrs. Herne, thoughtfully, "but I never saw itexhibited, though I met him once at Miss Loach's. She said he had alot of bad blood in him, but that may have been because she hated hersister, Isabella Octagon. "

"Did she hate her?"

"Yes. And I think she had cause. Mrs. Octagon behaved very badly inconnection with some romantic episode of the past. "

"I fancy I know about that, " said Jennings quickly, then added, "Youare fond of perfumes?"

"What a strange question, " laughed Mrs. Herne. "Yes, I am. Do you likethis scent. It is called Hikui, and was given to me by a dear friendwho received it from a Japanese attache. "

"From a friend or relative?"

Mrs. Herne frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Jennings shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, nothing. Only you are very likea lady called Senora Gredos. "

"Maraquito, " said Mrs. Herne unexpectedly. "Of course I am. Her fatherwas my brother. "

"You are then her aunt?"

"Naturally. But the fact is, I do not proclaim the relationship, as Ido not approve of Maraquito's gambling. Of course the poor thing isconfined to her couch and must have something to amuse her. All thesame, gambling on a large scale is against my principles. But, ifasked, I do not disown the relationship. Now you understand why I amlike Maraquito. "

"I understand, " hesitated Jennings, "you belong to a Spanish family?"

"Spanish Jews. I am a Jewess, so is Maraquito. "

"Do you speak Spanish?"

"Yes. Do you wish to speak it with me?"

"Unfortunately I do not know the language, " said Jennings, profoundlyregretting the fact. "And your niece?"

"She does not speak it. She was brought up in England. "

"In that case she should ask you if her name is masculine or feminine, Mrs. Herne?"

The old lady started. "I should like to know what you mean?"

"Senora Gredos' Christian name should be Maraquita, not Maraquito!"

"Really. I never gave the matter a thought. I will tell her about itif you like. I said she did not speak Spanish! She has led a strangelife. At one time she wished to dance and took the name of CelestineDurand. She was taught by a professor of dancing called Le Beau, wholives in Pimlico, but while learning she slipped in the street andbecame the wreck you see her. "

Certainly Mrs. Herne was very frank, and spoke the truth, as all thisbore out the statements of Le Beau and Lord Caranby. "Her maiden namewas Saul, I believe, " said Jennings, thinking Mrs. Herne would denythis promptly. 

To his astonishment she did nothing of the sort. "My maiden name isSaul, " she said gravely. "But as Maraquito is the daughter of myunfortunate brother, her true name is the same--not her maiden name, you understand. I do not know how you learned this, but--"

"Lord Caranby paid a visit to Maraquito's salon and recognized that shewas a Saul from her likeness to Emilia, with whom--"

"With whom he was in love, " finished Mrs. Herne, crossing her hands;"that painful story is well known to me. Emilia was my sister. "

"Lord Caranby never told me she had one, " said Jennings. 

"Lord Caranby does not know the history of our family. "

"Save what appeared in the papers, " put in the detective. 

Mrs. Herne flushed through her sallow skin. "It is not well bred ofyou to refer to the misfortunes of my family, " she said; "my mother andbrother were unlucky. They were innocent of this charge of coining, brought against them by an enemy. "

"The evidence was very plain, Mrs. Herne. "

"Ah!" she flashed out, "you have been looking up the case. Why?"

"From what Lord Caranby said--"

"He has no right to say anything, " cried Mrs. Herne, rising andspeaking vehemently; "he loved my sister, and she lost her life at thatdreadful house. I was abroad at the time, and had only just married. My husband was a jeweller. We cut ourselves off from the family whenthe misfortune came. Only of late years did I recognize Maraquito whenshe came to me for assistance. Her father died and she had no money. I helped her to pay for her dancing--"

"Oh, " said Jennings, recalling the false money, "you paid. "

"Have you anything to say on that point?" she asked haughtily. 

"No! No! I merely congratulate you on your generosity. "

"I could not allow my own niece to starve. I helped her, and then shemet with the accident. After that--"

"You assisted her to start this gambling-house. "

"By no means. Mr. Hale found the money for that. He is in love withMaraquito. But you can understand why I do not proclaim myrelationship with her. The past of our family is too painful. Ibecame acquainted with Miss Loach through Mrs. Octagon--she was thenthe wife of Mr. Saxon--when I went to inquire into my sister's death. I liked Miss Loach and frequently went to see her. Now that she isdead I shall leave England. I have arranged to do so next week, andyou will not see me here again. That is why I gave you this chance ofmaking inquiries. "

"I am much obliged, " said Jennings quite believing her story, since shetold it so earnestly: "but does Maraquito love Hale?"

"No. She loves Mr. Mallow, Lord Caranby's nephew. "

"She has a rival in Miss Saxon, " said the detective. 

Mrs. Herne turned red. "My niece fears no rival, " she said haughtily. "Miss Saxon shall never be the wife of Mr. Mallow. "

Jennings shrugged his shoulders. "I do not see how she can stop theaffair. "

"Oh yes, she can. The mother is on her side. "

"Ah! I thought there was some work of that kind. "

"Hear me!" cried Mrs. Herne, imposing silence with a gesture. "BasilSaxon is in love with Maraquito and she can twist the poor fool roundher finger. She agrees to send him away if Mrs. Octagon stops thismost absurd marriage. "

"Which she has done. "

"And which she will continue to do, " said Mrs. Herne decisively; "themother does not wish Basil to marry my niece, though she is quite asgood as they if not better. "

"Well, " drawled Jennings, rising, "I now know why Mrs. Octagon hasacted in this way. There's no more to be said. "

"Are there any further questions you wish to ask me? Remember I goabroad forever next week. You will never see me again. "

"I think I have asked you everything. By the why, " Jennings balancedhis hat between two forefingers, "I suppose your niece's complaint isincurable?"

"She thought so until lately. But she has consulted a specialist, whotells her she will walk again in a few months. "

"Then I suppose since she has made money through Hale's gambling-houseshe will marry him out of gratitude. "

"She will marry Mallow, " said Mrs. Herne, closing her mouth firmly. 

"Lord Caranby may object. "

"His objections will be overcome, " she replied, with a crafty smile. 

"In what way? I am not curious, but--"

"I have my own opinion of that, Mr. Jennings. "

"Well, I should like to know how the obstinate objections of a firm oldman like Caranby are to be overcome. "

"Ah, now you wish to know too much, " said Mrs. Herne, laughing andmoving towards the center of the room. "I refuse to tell you that. But if you are friendly with Miss Saxon, tell her to give up Mr. Mallow. Otherwise--"

"Otherwise, " echoed Jennings, curious to know why she paused. 

"She will lose what is dearest to her. "

"Humph! I wonder what that can be. Had you not better threaten MissSaxon personally, Mrs. Herne?"

"I have no need to, Maraquito will do that. With my niece as an enemy, Miss Saxon has no chance of gaining the prize she desires. "

"But you reckon without the feelings of Mr. Mallow. He loves--"

"He does not--he does not!" cried Mrs. Herne, pressing one hand to herheart and speaking fiercely; "he loves Maraquito. And is she not worthyto be loved? Is she--go--go. " Mrs. Herne waved her hand. "I havetold you everything you asked, and more. Should you require furtherinformation about Maraquito's love, I refer you to herself. "

"Oh, I am not interested enough in the matter to ask her, " said thedetective, and bowing to the lady who had sunk on the sofa, took hisdeparture. A strange idea occurred to him, suggested by the agitationof Mrs. Herne. 

When he met Drudge, who was partaking of a glass of gin, he gave himinstructions to watch the Hampstead house and follow Mrs. Herne whenshe came out. Then having posted his spy--for Drudge was nothingelse--Jennings hurried back to town. That same evening he sent a wireto Cuthbert to the address given by the servant, asking him to come upto town next morning. 

At eleven Jennings presented himself and found Cuthbert waiting forhim, rather surprised and agitated. "Why did you wire me in soperemptory a manner?" asked Mallow; "have you discovered anything?"

"Yes! I am sorry to break your holiday. By the way, you have been atBrighton. Did you stop at the Metropolitan?"

"Yes. I and Uncle Caranby have been there for a few days. "

"Did you see Mrs. Herne there?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"For a reason I'll tell you later. " Jennings glanced round the roomand his eyes became fixed on a trophy of arms. "You are fond of thesesort of things?" he demanded. 

"Yes, in a way. Yonder are war-spears, revolvers, swords, and--"

"I see--I see. Here is an empty space. What was here?"

"By Jove, I never noticed that before. I forget!"

"Perhaps this will supply the gap, " said Jennings, and held out theknife. "Do you recognize this?"

"Certainly. There are three notches in the handle. It is my knife. Did you take it off the wall?"

CHAPTER XVI

JULIET'S STORY

Instead of answering, Jennings looked at Mallow. "It was the merestchance I glanced at the wall and saw that one of the arms which formthat trophy was missing. It was also a chance that I suggested theblank space might be filled up with this knife. Are you sure it isyour property?"

Mallow with a puzzled expression took the weapon in his hand andexamined it closely. "It is mine, " he admitted, "on the butts of myrevolvers you will find I carve these notches. I also did so on thisbowie, which I bought in New York when I went on my last big-game shootto the Rockies. I marked my things in this way so that the otherfellows should not use them by mistake. I brought back this knife, andalthough it is not a pretty ornament, I fixed it up on the wall yonder. I used it to cut up game. But if you did not take it off the wall--andI confess I never missed it until you drew my attention to the factthat it was missing--where did you get it?"

Jennings scarcely knew what to say. Cuthbert talked of the matter inso easy a manner that it was impossible to think he had killed MissLoach. Also he was not the sort of man to murder an inoffensive oldwoman, the more especially as he--on the face of it--had no motive tocommit so brutal an act, or to jeopardize his neck. Struck by hisfriend's silence, Mallow looked up suddenly. Whether he read the truthin Jennings' eyes or the recollection of Jennings' profession broughtthe Crooked Lane crime into his mind, it is impossible to say. But hesuddenly grew pale and dropped the knife with a look of abhorrence. 

"Yes, " said Jennings, in reply to his mute inquiry, "that is the knifethat was used to stab Miss Loach. "

"This knife?" said Mallow, with a gasp, "but how the dickens, " he useda stronger word, "did my knife come to be used in that way?"

"I should like you to explain that, " said the detective icily. 

"Good heavens, Jennings, you don't think--"

"What am I to think, " said Jennings coldly, "I swear I never suspectedyou, Mallow. To own the truth, I don't suspect you now, but for yourown sake--for your own safety, explain how that knife came to be inMiss Loach's house. "

"I can't say, " cried Cuthbert, vehemently, "really I can't. I swear Inever missed it until you drew my attention to the blank left in thetrophy of arms yonder. " He flung himself into a seat, and passed hishand through his hair with a bewildered air. "Surely, Jennings, you donot think me guilty of killing that poor wretch?"

Jennings stretched out his hand, which Mallow grasped. "There is myanswer, " said the detective, "of course I don't suspect you. The merefact that you own the knife is yours shows me that you are innocent. But the fact that this particular weapon was used reveals to me thestrange behavior of Miss Saxon--her motive, I mean. "

Cuthbert jumped up. "What has Juliet to do with this?" he asked. 

"I went to see her, " explained Jennings rapidly, "and was shown up tothe attic of Rose Cottage by Mrs. Pill. Miss Saxon was standing on achair with her hand on the cornice. I managed to place my hand in thesame place--it matters not how--and there I found that. "

"This knife?" Cuthbert, still bewildered, took up the formidableweapon. "But how did she become possessed of it?"

"You must ask her that. "

"I? Why did you not ask her yourself?"

"She would have lied to me--for your sake. "

"For my sake? Do you mean to say she thinks I am guilty?"

"Yes, I do, " said Jennings decisively. 

"It's an infernal lie! I don't believe Juliet would think me such ablackguard unless she did not love me--and she does love me. "

"Of course, " interposed Jennings swiftly, "so much so that she hasconcealed this knife so as to--as she thinks--save you. Now, can younot see why she asked you to proceed no further in the case foryour--own sake. I thought she was shielding her brother. It is youshe believes guilty--"

"And therefore will not marry me?"

"No. I don't think for one moment she cares about that. When a womanloves a man she will stick to him through thick and thin. If he is aregular Cain, she will marry him. Bless the whole sex, they are thestaunchest of friends when they love. No, Mallow, in some way Mrs. Octagon has learned that you have killed her--"

"But I never did--I never did. I told you everything. "

"What you told me may have been told to Mrs. Octagon with additions. She thinks you guilty, and therefore has threatened to denounce youunless Juliet gives you up. She has done so, therefore Mrs. Octagonholds her bitter tongue. "

"But her reason for wishing to break off the marriage. "

"We discussed that before. In the first place, you are Caranby'snephew and she hates him. In the second, she and Basil want thefingering of the six thousand a year left by Miss Loach. Should youmarry Miss Saxon, they know well you will look after her interests, therefore they don't wish the match to take place. I am not quite sureif this is Basil's plan, or if he knows so much, but I am quite certainthat the scheme is of Mrs. Octagon's concoction. But now you can seewhy Miss Saxon behaved so strangely. "

"She has no right to take up such a position, " cried Cuthbert, with afierce look. "She should have been plain with me and have accused meto my face. "

"Do you think a woman cares to accuse the man she loves? Besides, Mrs. Octagon may have forced her to keep silence, so as to make the mattermore difficult for you. The only way in which you can clear up mattersis to see Miss Saxon and insist on an explanation. "

"And if she won't give it?"

"I think she will this time, " said Jennings with a grim smile. "By nowshe must have discovered her loss, and she knows well enough that theknife is in my possession. Already she knows that I threatened toarrest you--"

"But you would never do that. "

"I would if it meant the clearing of your character. I tell you, Mallow, you are in danger. There is a conspiracy against you, and theusing of your knife to kill that old woman proves it. To prepare theground for an accusation, someone stole it. You must fight, man, oryour enemies may bring about your arrest, in spite of all I can do. "

Mallow dropped into his seat, flushed and angry. 

"I have no enemies, " he muttered, trying to collect his wits. 

"Yes, you have, and of the worst kind. Two women are against you. "

"Two women? Mrs. Octagon, I know, hates me as Caranby's nephew andbecause she wants to handle this money. But the other?"

"Maraquito Gredos. "

"Bosh! She loves me. I am sure she has worried me enough. "

"Of course she loves, " said Jennings satirically. "She loves you sodeeply that she would see you on the scaffold rather than let you marryMiss Saxon. That is why Mrs. Octagon went the other night to see her. Mrs. Herne gave a different version, but--"

"How do you know Mrs. Octagon went to see Maraquito?"

"Your uncle saw her. Sit down, Mallow. " Jennings gently pushed backthe astonished man into his seat. "Listen while I tell you all I havediscovered lately. "

Mallow listened in silence, and saw very truly that Maraquito wouldstick at nothing to gain her ends. However, he made no remark. "Now, "went on Jennings, "it may be that Maraquito hired someone to kill MissLoach and is trying to put the blame on you so that she may entangleyou in her net. It will be either the gallows or marriage with you. Of course she could not kill the woman herself, but her aunt, Mrs. Herne--"

"She was out of the house an hour before the blow was struck. "

"Quite so, " rejoined Jennings dryly, "but she may have come back again. However, the main point is, that Maraquito in some way is working withMrs. Octagon on this basis to prevent your marriage. In this way theyhave impressed Miss Saxon that you are guilty, and they have shown herthis knife. This evidence she retained in order to save you and at theprice of her marriage. "

"It might be so, " said Mallow, dazed with this view of the case. "Icertainly seem to be in a hole. If I could see Juliet--but her motherprevents me. "

"I have a plan to bring you together. I am engaged to a girl calledMiss Garthorne. She is the niece of an old dancing master who taughtMaraquito--"

"Le Beau?"

"The same. Well, I learn from Peggy--that is Miss Garthorne'sname--that she was at school for a few months with Miss Saxon. Peggy, in spite of her poverty, has had a good education, thanks to Le Beau, who loves her like a father. Hence, in spite of the difference inrank, she was brought into contact with Miss Saxon. "

"Yes! Yes! I see. But the scheme?"

"Well, Peggy must write to Miss Saxon and ask her to come and see herat the Pimlico Academy. As Miss Saxon was great friends with Peggy, she will come. Then you can talk to her there and learn the truth. Find out who gave her the knife. She will answer, especially if youtell her that, owing to my finding the knife, I am inclined to have youarrested. You understand?"

"Yes, " said Cuthbert, a new fire in his eyes, and drawing himself upfirmly. "I'll get at the truth somehow, and Juliet will not leave thatAcademy until I learn it. I have had more than enough of this kind ofthing. But how did the knife leave my rooms?"

"Who has called to see you within the last month?"

"Oh, dozens of people. "

"Has Mrs. Octagon?"

"No. She never liked me enough to pay me a visit. But Basil--"

"Ha!" cried Jennings, slapping his knee. "I believe Basil may havetaken it. He is working with his mother to stop the marriage, and--"

"Stop--stop!" interposed Mallow, coloring, "you are accusing Juliet'smother and brother of being accomplices to a crime. Basil is a fool andMrs. Octagon is not a nice woman, but I don't think either would kill awoman in cold blood. "

Jennings had his own opinion about this. Mrs. Octagon--as was provedby her early history--was capable of doing much, when number one was inquestion, and Basil was an irresponsible, hysterical fool. In a momentof rage he might have--"But no, " said Jennings, breaking off this trainof thought. "I can't see the truth. Miss Saxon knows it. You mustask her. Be careful, for your life may depend upon it. "

"Bunkum!" said Mallow roughly, "I am not afraid. "

"Then you ought to be, " said Jennings quickly, "you were down at RoseCottage on that night and the knife is yours. Certainly you have nomotive, but Mrs. Octagon and Maraquito will soon find one, if you don'tfall in with their wishes. However, you know what you have to do, " andJennings rose to take his leave, first slipping the knife into hispocket. 

"Wait a bit, " said Cuthbert, rising. "I'll do what you say. Just dropme a line when the meeting is to be. But I want to tell you--At theMetropolitan Hotel at Brighton I met with my bank manager. "

"What of that?"

"He happens to be the manager of the bank where Miss Loach kept hermoney and where Juliet keeps it now. "

"Well, " said Jennings, becoming suddenly attentive. 

"He didn't tell secrets, " went on Mallow, "but we got talking of Basil, and the manager hinted that Basil had had a lucky escape. "

"From what?"

"I can't say. The manager--French, his name is--refused to speak moreopenly, and of course he couldn't. But if Miss Loach had not died, Basil would have got into trouble. He didn't put the matter exactly inthese words, but I gathered as much. "

"Humph!" said Jennings, his eyes on the carpet, "that supplies a motivefor Basil killing the old woman. "

"Nonsense, Basil would not kill anything. He is a coward. "

"When a rat is in the corner it fights, " said the detectivesignificantly. "Basil may have been between the devil, represented byMiss Loach, and the deep sea, which we may call Hale. He may have--"

"No! No! No!" said Mallow, "nothing will ever persuade me that Basilis guilty. "

Jennings looked doubtful. He had his own opinion as to young Saxon'scapability for crime. "However, the whole case is so perplexing that Ifear to name any particular person, " said he, taking his hat. "Now Ishall see Miss Garthorne and get her to write to Miss Saxon. "

Apparently there was no difficulty about this, for in three days hewrote to Mallow, telling him to come to Pimlico on Friday at fouro'clock. Juliet was surprised when she received an invitation from anold schoolfellow of whom she had lost sight for years. However, owingto her troubles, she felt the need of some sympathetic soul in whom shecould safely confide, and knowing Peggy was one of those rare friendswho could keep her own counsel, Juliet readily agreed to pay the visit. She arrived at the Academy shortly before three o'clock, and the twogirls had a long talk of their old days. Also Juliet told some of herdifficulties--but not all--to Peggy. "And I don't know how things willturn out, " said Miss Saxon disconsolately, "everything seems to bewrong. "

"They will continue to be wrong unless you act wisely, " said Peggy. 

"In what way should I act?"

"Stick to Mr. Mallow. He loves you and you love him. I do not see whyyou should surrender your life's happiness for the sake of your family. Of course you have not told me all, " and Peggy looked at herinquiringly. 

Juliet shuddered. "I dare not tell you all, " she said faintly. "Ihave to think of other people. "

"Think of Mr. Mallow first. "

"I am thinking of him. "

"Then it is on his account you keep silence. "

Juliet nodded. "I must hold my tongue. If you could advise me--"

"My dear, " said clear-headed Miss Garthorne, rather impatiently, "Ican't advise unless I know all, and you will not trust me. "

"I have to consider others, " repeated Juliet obstinately; "if Cuthbertknew what I feel--"

"Why don't you tell him? See here, Juliet, you are keeping somethingback from me. On my part, I have kept something back from you. But Isee it is necessary to speak plainly. Juliet, I am engaged. "

"Oh, I am so glad, " cried Miss Saxon, embracing her friend. "Is henice?"

"I think so; but I am not sure if you will be of that opinion. "

"Do I know him?" asked Juliet, opening her eyes widely. 

"You do. Not very well, perhaps, but you know him. "

"What is his name?"

"I'll tell you that after you have seen Mr. Mallow. "

Miss Saxon rose with rather an offended look. "I have no intention ofseeing Mr. Mallow. "

"Supposing he was here, would you consent to an interview?"

"I don't dare--I dare not! If he asked questions!--what do you mean?"

"Nothing, " said Peggy briskly. "We have joined issue, as the lawyerssay. I advise you to speak out and you refuse. "

"I don't understand all this. Is Cuthbert here?"

"Yes. To be plain with you, Juliet, a person I know arranged that Ishould write to you and that Mr. Mallow should meet you here. "

Juliet looked annoyed. "Who is interfering with my private business?"

"Someone who can help you. "

"No one can help me, " retorted Juliet. 

"Oh, yes, and the advice of this person is that you should tell thetruth to Mr. Mallow. "

"Who is this person?"

"I'll tell you that after you have seen Mr. Mallow. He is in the roombelow. "

"This interfering person you refer to?"

"No, Mr. Mallow. Will you come downstairs and see him?"

Juliet drew back as Peggy opened the door. "I dare not. "

"In that case you will have to consent to the arrest of Mr. Mallow. "

Juliet shrieked. "Cuthbert arrested! For what?"

"For the murder of Miss Loach. "

"It is not true--it is not true, " gasped Juliet. "Oh, Peggy, what doesit all mean? How do you come to know--?"

"Because I'm engaged to Miles Jennings. "

"The detective! The man who behaved so badly to me?"

"I don't know what you call behaving badly, " said Miss Garthorne in anoffended way. "Miles wishes to help you out of your difficulties, andyou will not allow him. No! Don't ask questions. I refuse to answer. Miles told me all about the case and I know everything--"

"Then you know that he came the other day to Rose Cottage and--"

"I know everything, " said Peggy, leaving the room; "and if you are wiseyou will come with me. "

When Peggy disappeared, Juliet hesitated. She really could not speakto Cuthbert, and resolved to steal out of the trap into which she hadbeen inveigled by the treacherous Peggy. On the other hand, things werebecoming so serious that she knew she would have to speak out sooner orlater, especially as Cuthbert was in danger of arrest. But even if sheconfessed all, could she save him? "I should only make matters worse, "thought Juliet, descending the stairs, "he'll thank me some day forholding my tongue. I'll go. "

So she arranged, but meantime Peggy had informed the waiting Mallow ofJuliet's strange behavior. Determined to make her speak, and anxiousto arrive at some understanding, Cuthbert waited at the foot of thestairs. Juliet, coming down, ran straight into his arms, and turnedwhite. 

"You!" she gasped, retreating, "you are here after all. "

"Did you not hear Miss Garthorne tell you so?" asked Cuthbert. 

"Peggy is behaving very wickedly. "

"It is you who are behaving badly, " said Mallow bluntly, "you know muchabout this case and you are keeping me in the dark. "

"It is for your own good, " murmured Juliet. 

"You should allow me to be the best judge of that. Come in here, " andCuthbert drew her towards the open door of the dancing-room, "tell mewhat you know and how it affects me. "

The room was large and bare and empty. At one end there was a kind ofdais on which was placed a few chairs. The young man walked up to thisand turned to beckon Juliet, for whom he placed a chair. She stilllingered at the door and seemed disposed to fly. 

"Juliet, if you go now, all is over, " he said determinedly. 

"Cuthbert, how can you?"

"Because I mean what I say. Things can't go on like this. You think ofyour brother--of your mother. You never give a thought to me. "

Juliet came up the room hurriedly. "I am thinking of you all the time, Cuthbert, " she said angrily, "I keep silence for your good. "

"In what way?"

"This murder--" she began. Then her voice died away, "you know--"

"I know that Miss Loach was murdered, but who did it I don't know. "

"Oh, " Juliet dropped into a chair, "are you innocent?"

"Surely you never thought me guilty?"

"I--I--don't think you are, and yet--"

"You are going to accuse me of having been on the spot?"

Juliet could restrain herself no longer. "I saw you myself, " she burstout; "I was there also. "

CHAPTER XVII

JULIET'S STORY CONTINUED

Cuthbert was so surprised by this admission that astonishment held himsilent for a moment. He never expected to hear that Juliet herself hadbeen on the spot. Seeing this, she went on quickly. "Now you canunderstand why I held my tongue. You were at Rose Cottage on thatnight. You have enemies who know you were there. I have beenthreatened should I insist on our engagement being fulfilled that youwill be arrested. Therefore I kept away and held my tongue. "

"But if you had told me this long ago--"

"How could I?" she cried vehemently. "Could I come and say to you, Ibelieve you are a murderer?"

"Did you believe that, Juliet?" he asked in a grieved tone. 

"Yes and no, " she faltered. "Oh, Cuthbert, you know how I love you. Icould not bring myself to think you were guilty--and yet the proofs areso strong. You were at Rose Cottage at a quarter to eleven--"

"No. I was there at a quarter past ten. "

"I tell you I saw you at a quarter to eleven. You were getting overthe wall into the park. Then there was the knife--your knife. "

"How did you know it was mine?"

"By the notches. You told me you always cut three notches on thehandle of any weapon you possessed. One day when mother and I came toafternoon tea at your place you showed me some of your weapons--theknife amongst them. One knife is much like another, and I would nothave noticed but for the notches and for the fact that I saw you onthat night. I hid the knife and Mr. Jennings--"

"He found it, " said Mallow. "Quite so. He told me he did. When youleft the attic he contrived to--"

"Then the closing of the door was a trick, " said Juliet in an agitatedtone. "I might have guessed that. He took the knife. He hasthreatened to arrest you, so Miss Garthorne says. "

"She says rightly, " replied Mallow, thinking it best to make use of allhe knew, so as to force her to speak freely. "But of course, if youcan explain--"

"Explain!" she cried wildly and sinking into a chair. "What can Iexplain? That I saw you climbing that wall, running away apparentlyfrom the scene of your crime. That I found the knife by the body?"

"What!" Cuthbert started up and looked at her. "You saw the body?"

"Yes. I was in the house--in the room. I found my aunt dead in herchair, with the cards on her lap, exactly as the parlor-maid saw her. Near her on the floor was the knife. There was blood on the blade. Ipicked it up--I saw the handle was notched in three places, and then--"

"Then you suspected me. "

"No. Not till I saw you outside. "

Cuthbert took a turn up and down the dais much perplexed. "Juliet, " hesaid. "I swear to you I never killed this woman. "

Juliet flew to him and folded him in her arms. "I knew it--I knew it, "she said, "in spite of the letter--"

"What letter?"

"That accusing you and threatening to tell the police about you if Idid not break the engagement. "

"Who wrote it?"

"I can't say, save that it must have been some enemy. "

"Naturally, " replied Mallow cynically. "A friend does not write inthat way. Have you the letter with you. "

"No. It is at home. I never thought of bringing it. But I will showit to you soon. I wish now I had spoken before. "

"I wish to heaven you had!"

"I thought it best to be silent, " said Juliet, trying to argue. "Ifeared lest if I spoke to you, this enemy, whosoever he is, might carryout the threat in the letter. "

"Is the letter written by a man or a woman?"

"I can't say. Women write in so masculine a way nowadays. It might beeither. But why were you at the cottage--"

"I was not. I went to explore the unfinished house on behalf of LordCaranby. I was ghost-hunting. Do you remember how you asked me nextday why I wore an overcoat and I explained that I had a cold--"

"Yes. You said you got it from sitting in a hot room. "

"I got it from hunting round the unfinished house at Rexton. I did notthink it necessary to explain further. "

Juliet put her hand to her head. "Oh, how I suffered on that day, " shesaid. "I was watching for you all the afternoon. When you came Ithought you might voluntarily explain why you were at Rexton on theprevious night. But you did not, and I believed your silence to be aguilty one. Then, when the letter arrived--"

"When did it arrive?"

"A week after the crime was committed. "

"Well, " said Cuthbert, rather pained, "I can hardly blame you. But ifyou loved me--"

"I do love you, " she said with a passionate cry. "Have I not proved mylove by bearing--as I thought--your burden? Could I do more? Would awoman who loves as I do accuse the man she loves of a horrible crime?I strove to shield you from your enemies. "

"I thought you were shielding Basil. Jennings thought so also. "

Juliet drew back, looking paler than ever. "What do you know of him. "

"Very little, " said Cuthbert quickly. "Was he at Rose Cottage on thenight in question?"

"No. He was not there. I did not see him. "

"Yet he was at the Marlow Theatre with you. "

"Yes. He left the theatre before I did. "

"Sit down, Juliet, and tell me exactly how you came to be at RoseCottage on that night and why you went. "

Miss Saxon seated herself and told all she knew. "It was this way, "she said, with more calmness than she had hitherto shown. "Basil and Iwent to see this new melodrama written by Mr. Arkwright--"

"What? The man Mrs. Octagon wishes you to marry?"

"Yes. He has written a play to make money. My mother was angry, asshe thought such a thing was not worthy of him. He sent her a box. She refused to go, so Basil and I went. But the play was so dull thatBasil left early, saying he would come back for me. "

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. He did not say. Well, the play became worse instead of better. I was weary to death, so I thought as the theatre was near Rexton, thatI would go and see Aunt Selina. Then I hoped to return to the box andmeet Basil. I was told the play, being a long one, would not be overtill midnight. I left the theatre at a quarter past ten. It tookfifteen minutes to drive to the cottage. Then I entered quietly togive aunt a surprise. "

"Ah! It was you opening the door that Thomas heard. "

"Yes! At half-past ten; I had a latch-key. Aunt Selina loved me verymuch and wanted me to come and see her whenever I could. So that Icould come and go at pleasure without troubling the servants, she gaveme a latch-key. I happened to have it in my pocket. I really wishedto see her about this quarrel she had with Basil. "

"What was this quarrel about?"

Juliet deliberated before replying. "It was a small thing, " she saidat length. "Aunt Selina was fond of Basil and often gave him money. Mr. Octagon doesn't allow Basil much, and mother has enough to do tomake both ends meet. Basil is, I fear, extravagant. I know hegambles, though he never told me where he went--"

"To Maraquito's, " said Cuthbert. "I have met him there. "

"I know, " said Juliet in rather a reproachful tone. "I wish you wouldnot gamble, Cuthbert. "

"I have given it up now. I only played for the excitement, but sinceour engagement I have hardly touched a card. I shall not play formoney again. My visits to Maraquito's now are purely in the interestsof this case. "

"Does she know anything about it?" asked Juliet, astonished. 

"Yes, " replied Mallow, wondering if the girl knew that Mrs. Octagon hadpaid a visit to Senora Gredos. "Mrs. Herne, who was your aunt'sfriend, is the aunt of Senora Gredos. "

"I never knew that. But about this quarrel. Basil spent more moneythan he could afford, poor boy--"

"Young scamp, " murmured Cuthbert. 

"Don't blame him. He means well, " expostulated Juliet. "Well, auntgave him a lot of money, but he always wanted more. Then she refused. About a week before Aunt Selina died, Basil wanted money, and shedeclined. They had words and she ordered Basil out of the house. Itwas to try and make it up between them that I called on that night. "

"Are you sure Basil did not go also?"

"I don't think so, " said Juliet doubtfully. "He was on bad terms withAunt Selina and knew he would not be welcomed. Besides, he had not alatch-key. Well, Cuthbert, I reached Rose Cottage at half-past ten andlet myself in. I went downstairs quietly. I found Aunt Selina seatedin her chair near the fire with the cards on her lap, as though she hadbeen playing 'Patience. ' I saw that she was dead. "

"Why did you not give the alarm?"

Juliet hesitated. "I thought it best not to, " she said faintly. 

It seemed to Mallow that she was keeping something back. However, shewas very frank as it was, so he thought it best not to say anything. "Well, you saw she was dead?"

"Yes. She had been stabbed to the heart. There was a knife on thefloor. I picked it up and saw it was yours. Then I thought--"

"That I had killed her. Thank you, Juliet. "

"No, no!" she protested. "Really, I did not believe that at the time. I could not think why you should kill Aunt Selina. I was bewildered atthe time and then--" here Juliet turned away her head, "I fanciedsomeone else might have killed her. "

"Who?"

"Don't ask me. I have no grounds on which to accuse anyone. Let metell you what I can. Then you may think--but that's impossible. Cuthbert, ask me no more questions. "

Mallow thought her demeanor strangely suspicious, and wondered if shewas shielding her mother. Mrs. Octagon, who hated Selina Loach, mighthave struck the blow, but there was absolutely no proof of this. Mallow decided to ask nothing, as Juliet requested. "Tell me what youwill, my dear, " he said, "so long as you don't believe me guilty. "

"I don't--I don't--really I don't. I picked up the knife and left theroom after ten minutes. I stole up the stairs and shut the door soquietly that no one heard. You see, the first time I did not troubleto do that, but when I found that aunt was dead I was afraid lest theservants should come and find me there. I fancied, as I had the knifein my hand and had entered by means of the latch-key, that I might besuspected. Besides, it would have been difficult to account for myunexpected presence in the house at that hour. "

"I quite comprehend!" said Mallow grimly. "We can't all keep our headsin these difficult situations. Well?"

"I came out into the garden. I heard the policeman coming down thelane, and knew I could not escape unobserved that way. Then if I tookthe path to the station I fancied he might see me in the moonlight. Iran across the garden by the wall and got over the fence amongst thecorn, where I lay concealed. Then I saw you coming round the corner. You climbed the wall and went into the park. After that I waited tillafter eleven, when the policeman entered the house, summoned by theservants. I then ran round the field, sheltered from observation bythe corn, which, as you know, was then high, and I got out at thefurther side. I walked to Keighley, the next place to Rexton, and tooka cab home. I went straight to bed, and did not see Basil till thenext morning. He told me he had come home later, but he did not saywhere he had been, nor did I ask him. "

"But I am sure--unless my watch was wrong, that I climbed the wall at aquarter past ten, " insisted Mallow. 

"You might have climbed it again at a quarter to eleven. "

"No! I climbed it only once. Which way did I come?"

"Along the path from the station. Then you walked beside the fence onthe corn side, and jumping over, you climbed the wall. "

"Certainly I did that, " murmured Mallow, remembering what he had toldJennings. "Did you see my face?"

"No! But I knew you by your height and by the light overcoat you wore. That long, sporting overcoat which is down to your heels. Oh, Cuthbert, what is the matter?"

She might well ask this question, for Mallow had started and turnedpale. "Nothing! nothing, " he said irritably. "I certainly did wearsuch an overcoat. I was with Caranby before I went to Rexton, andknowing his room would be heated like a furnace, I took everyprecaution against cold. "

Juliet doubted this, as she knew Mallow did not coddle himself in anyway. However, she had seen the overcoat too often to mistake to whomit belonged. Moreover, Cuthbert did not deny that he had jumped thewall in the way she explained. "Well, now you know all, what will youdo?" she asked. 

"I really can't say, " said Mallow, who was trying to conceal hisagitation. "I can't think who took the knife out of my room. It wasin a trophy of arms on the wall, and I never noticed that it wasmissing, till Jennings drew my attention to the loss. Certainly MissLoach was killed with that knife. "

"I am positive of that, " said Juliet. "There is blood on the handle. But you understand why I kept silence?"

"Yes. But there was really no need. I shall call and see your motherand insist on her giving her consent to our marriage. She has noreason to refuse. Do you know why she objects?"

"No. She simply says she does not wish me to marry you. "

"Did you not tell her what you have told me?"

"I did not. What was the use? It was because of my discovery of theknife and seeing you, and receiving that letter, that I refused tomarry, and so fell in with my mother's plans. "

"Juliet, you are not engaged to Arkwright?"

"No. I am engaged to you and you only. I mean I only pretended that Iwould not marry you. My mother thought I was obeying her, but I wasreally shielding you on account of that letter. "

"Give me the letter, love, and I'll show it to Jennings. "

"No, " said Miss Saxon, shrinking back; "get him to drop the case. "

"Why?" asked Cuthbert dryly. "I could understand that request when youthought me guilty, but now that you know I am innocent, and thatJennings is aware I was at Rose Cottage on that night, surely there isno bar to his proceeding with the case. "

"I do not wish it, " faltered Juliet. 

Cuthbert looked at her steadily and turned away with a sigh. "You arekeeping something from me, " he said. 

"And you from me, " she retorted. "Why did you start when I spoke ofthe overcoat?"

"Juliet, my own, " Cuthbert took her hands earnestly, "there arecircumstances in this case which are very strange. Innocent persons maybe sacrificed. It is best for you and me to have nothing more to dowith the matter. Miss Loach is dead. Who killed her will never beknown. Let us marry, dear heart, and leave the case alone. "

"I am quite willing. But my mother?"

"I shall persuade her to consent. "

"I hope so; but I fear she hates you because you are Lord Caranby'snephew. She hinted as much. I don't know the reason. "

"I do, " said Mallow calmly, "and I think I may be able to persuade herto see reason. I shall meddle no more with the case. "

"What about Mr. Jennings?"

"I will tell him what I have told you, and what you have told me. ThenI will point out the futility of looking for a needle in a haystack. He may be inclined to let the case drop. He ought to be weary of it bythis time. "

Juliet looked wistfully at him. "Can't we be plain with one another?"

"No, " said Mallow, shaking his head, "you have your suspicions and Imine. Let us refrain from talking about the matter. "

Miss Saxon drew a breath of relief. "I think that is best, " she said, and her expression was reflected in the eyes of her lover. "When willyou come and see mother?"

"Next week. If her objection is a question of money, you can hand overthe whole of that income you have inherited. "

"Aunt Selina's six thousand a year! Why?"

"Because I have enough money for us both, and when Caranby dies I shallbe almost a millionaire. I don't like you having this money. "

"But your reason?"

"I have none that I can tell you. Besides, if we can buy Mrs. Octagon's consent with even six thousand a year--"

"I do not mind, " said Juliet. "But now that I know you are reallyinnocent, and I take shame to myself for having doubted you, I amwilling to marry you, even though my mother withholds her consent. "

"My darling!" Cuthbert folded the girl in his arms and kissed her. "Inow know that you truly love me. Indeed, I never doubted you. "

"But I doubted myself, " said Juliet tearfully. "I should never havesuspected you, even though the evidence was so strong. "

"You lost your head for the moment, " said her lover, "but don't let ustalk any more about the matter. I shall pacify Jennings and get him todrop the case. Then we will marry and take a tour round the world soas to forget these unpleasant matters. "

"Yes, that is best, " said Juliet, and the two walked towards the door. 

They should have been completely happy now that all misunderstandingswere cleared up, but each wore a gloomy expression. Apparently theshadow of Miss Loach's death still clouded the sunshine of their lives. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

Jennings was at breakfast in his rooms, considering what he should donext in connection with the case. As yet he had not heard fromCuthbert with regard to the interview with Juliet. The detective waitedupstairs in Le Beau's sitting-room for the conclusion of the meeting, but when Mallow never appeared he went down. Then he learned fromPeggy, who was in the office, that the lovers had been gone for sometime "I thought you knew, " said Miss Garthorne. 

"No, " replied Jennings, "I did not know, " and then, since he had nofurther reason to remain, he took his departure also, wondering whyMallow had not come to report the matter. 

That same evening he sought out Mallow, but was unable to find him athis accustomed haunts. More perplexed than ever, Jennings, leaving anote at Mallow's rooms, had returned to his own. He could make no newmove until he heard from Mallow, and the young man did not appearinclined to give any assistance. Next morning, while at breakfast, heexpected his friend, but still there was no appearance of the visitor. A ring came to the door and Jennings thought that this was Cuthbert atlast. He was distinctly disappointed when Drudge made his appearance. 

"Well, " said Jennings sharply, "what is it?"

"I followed the lady you saw, sir. "

"Mrs. Herne? Yes. "

"She left her house in Hampstead and walked down the hill. There shetook a cab. I followed in another. Her cab stopped at the house ofMaraquito in Soho. Since then I have been watching the house, but Ihave not seen Mrs. Herne again. "

"She is Senora Gredos' aunt, " explained Jennings, "so I expect she isstopping with her. "

"No, sir, she isn't. I made friends with a boy called Gibber--"

"Yes. He is a page in the house. Well?"

"I gave him a drink or two, " said Drudge, "and a few stamps, as he is acollector. He become friendly with me, and I asked him about thehouse. He was very frank, but he said nothing about the gambling. "

"Humph! I expect he has been told to hold his tongue. Well, did youhear anything at all?"

"I heard that Gibber had never seen Mrs. Herne. He did not even knowher name. Now, sir, " went on Drudge, laying a finger in the palm ofhis hand, "if Mrs. Herne was stopping at the Soho house, Gibber wouldhave seen her. "

A flash of joy passed across the countenance of Jennings, but he turnedaway from his underling so that he might not betray the satisfaction hefelt. "Mrs. Herne is Maraquito's aunt, " he said again. 

"No, sir, pardon me. Maraquito hasn't got an aunt. Leastways theaunt, if there is such a person, has never set foot in the house. "

"Perhaps Maraquito sees her secretly. "

"Well, " said Drudge pensively, "she certainly went in by a side door, Mr. Jennings. Do you want me to watch further, sir?"

"Yes. Keep your eye on the Soho house, and should Mrs. Herne reappear, follow her. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Herne when walking down the hill dropped a small bag. "

"Ah! Have you got it?"

"No. She was too sharp for me. I was picking it up when she missed itand came to claim it. But before she reached me I had opened it. Onlyher handkerchief was inside. I gave it back, and she gave me ashilling. But the queer thing, sir, is the scent. "

"What scent?" asked Jennings, looking keenly at the man. 

"Oh, a strange strong scent, fit to knock you down, sir. "

"Well, and why shouldn't a lady use scent. It is customary. "

"It is, sir. My wife uses scent. But this was a queer smell. And thena man shouldn't use scent, " burst out Drudge. 

"Some men are effeminate enough to do so, " said Jennings drily. "But Idon't quite understand all this. "

"I can tell you what puzzled me at once, " said the underling, "afterwatching Maraquito's house for some time, I put another fellow on, andwent to the office. I had to go to see the police about some matter, and I spoke to Inspector Twining of the Rexton district. He had on hisdesk a handkerchief and a few articles which had just been taken from aman who had been arrested for passing false coins. "

"Oh!" Jennings looked very interested, "go on. "

"This man was in one of the cells, and he is to be brought before themagistrate this morning. They searched him and took his handkerchieffrom him. "

"It is not customary to do that?"

"No, Sir. But this man--I don't know his name--had two handkerchiefs. The searcher thought that was one too many, " said Drudge, with theglimmer of a smile, "and took one. "

"Why do you tell me all this?" asked Jennings impatiently. 

"Because the handkerchief was scented with the same perfume as thehandkerchief of Mrs. Herne I picked up. The moment I smelt it Ithought of her coming back for the bag. The scent is so strange andstrong that I thought it just as well to mention it to you. You areinterested in Mrs. Herne, sir, so if this man uses the same scent--"

"Quite so. You have acted very wisely. Where was the man arrested?"

"At a place near Rexton. He was trying to get a drink and gave ashilling--it was false. The inspector will show it to you, sir. Andanother queer thing, Mr. Jennings, this man had some rags and a bottleof petroleum on him. "

"Humph! Perhaps he intended to set fire to some place. Have you heardof any fire?"

"No, sir, not near Rexton. "

"At what time was the man arrested?"

"At nine last night. He is in jail now, and will be brought up thismorning on a charge of passing false money. "

"I'll look into it, Drudge. It is strange about the scent: but theremay be nothing in the matter. The man could easily buy scent of thekind Mrs. Herne uses. Go back to Soho and watch the house. Let meknow if Mrs. Herne comes out, and where she goes. "

"Yes, sir, " said Drudge, and bowed himself out. 

When the man was gone Jennings walked up and down his room in a greatstate of excitement. He was beginning to see the end of the matter. That the scent should be used by a man who was passing false coinsconfirmed his idea that it was some peculiar sign whereby the membersof the gang recognized one another. If Mrs. Herne really was the auntof Maraquito, this matter implicated her as well as the niece. AndMrs. Herne had been accustomed to go to Rose Cottage, which hinted thatMiss Loach had perhaps learned of the existence of the gang and hadsuffered for her indiscreet curiosity. 

"I believe Miss Loach threatened to disclose what she knew. She mayhave learned that the gang worked in that house from the fact of theghosts, in which so strongminded an old lady would not believe. Idaresay she threatened exposure, and someone killed her. Perhaps Mrs. Herne herself. No, confound it, she was out of the house. Well, I'llsee this man now in jail. I may be able to force him to tell. AndI'll call on Lord Caranby to-day, and get permission to search theunfinished house. I am quite sure there is a factory there. I wishMallow would come and tell me if he has learned anything. "

Again there was a ring at the door, and this time Jennings, expectingno one else, certainly hoped to see Cuthbert. But, to his surprise, the servant showed in Lord Caranby. The old gentleman was calm andcomposed as usual, but Jennings thought he looked ill and frail. Thedark circles round his eyes were more pronounced than ever, and heleaned heavily on his cane. He was perfectly dressed as usual, andseemed disposed to be friendly. 

"I am glad to see you, Lord Caranby, " said the detective, when the oldgentleman was accommodated with the chair, "have you had breakfast?"

"Thank you, yes. But I could not eat any, " said Caranby, breathingheavily. "Those stairs of, yours are trying, Mr. Jennings. I am notso young or so strong as I was. "

"You don't look the picture of health, my lord. "

"Can you expect a dying man to?"

"Dying--oh, no, you--"

"Dying, " insisted Caranby, rapping his stick on the ground. "I knowthat I have not many months to live, and I sha'n't be sorry when theend comes. I have had a hard time. Cuthbert will soon be standing inmy shoes. I suffer from an incurable complaint, Mr. Jennings, and mydoctor tells me I shall die soon. "

"I am sure Mallow will be sorry, " said Jennings, wondering why Caranby, ordinarily the most reticent of men, should tell him all this. 

"Yes--yes, Cuthbert is a good fellow. I should like to see him happyand settled with Miss Saxon before I die. But Maraquito will do herbest to hinder the match. "

"She may soon have enough to do to look after herself, " said Jenningsgrimly. "I shall see that she gets her deserts. "

"What do you suspect her of?" asked Caranby hastily. 

"I can't tell you yet. I have no proofs. But I am suspicious. "

"She is a bad woman, " said the old man. "I am certain of that. Andshe will stop at nothing to marry Cuthbert. But this is not what Icame to see you about, Mr. Jennings. You asked my permission to goover my house at Rexton?"

"I did. And I was coming to-day to get the permission confirmed. "

"Then I am sorry to say you cannot go over it. "

"Why not?" asked Jennings, wondering why Lord Caranby had changed hismind--a thing he rarely did. "I only want to--"

"Yes! Yes!" Caranby waved his hand impatiently, "but the fact is, thehouse has been burnt down. "

"Burnt down--at Rexton!" cried Jennings, jumping from his seat. 

"Yes. It caught fire in some way last night, about eight o'clock. There was a high wind blowing, and the house has been burnt to theground. Not only that, but, as the weather has been dry, the whole ofthe trees and shrubs and undergrowth in the park have gone likewise. Iam informed that everything within the circle of that wall is a heap ofashes. Quite a burning of Rome, " chuckled Caranby. 

"Do you suspect the house was set on fire?"

"Of course I do. Even though the weather is hot, I don't think thiscan be a case of spontaneous combustion. Probably some tramp--"

"No, " said Jennings decisively, "it is strange you should come to mewith this news. One of my men has lately been here, and he tells methat a man was arrested near Rexton last night for passing false money. He had on him a bottle of petroleum and some rags. "

"Ah!" said Caranby, quite serene, "so you think--"

"There can be no doubt about it, my lord. This man set fire to thehouse. People don't carry bottles of petroleum about for nothing. "

"But why should he set fire deliberately to my house?"

"At the instance of the Saul family?"

Lord Caranby sat bolt upright. "What do you mean?"

"Humph! It is rather a long story. But this man who was caught used aparticular kind of scent called Hikui. Maraquito uses it also, and heraunt, Mrs. Herne. "

"Mrs. Herne? She is not Maraquito's aunt. "

"She told me herself that she was. "

"And I tell you that Emilia, who is dead, was the only aunt Maraquitoever had. Why does Mrs. Herne say this?"

"That is what I am trying to find out. She said that you did not knowthe whole history of the Saul family. "

"I know quite enough, " said Caranby gloomily, "the members wereabominably wicked. Maraquito's father died after he was dischargedfrom jail for coining; and the mother also. "

"Well, my lord, this man, who apparently fired your house, was tryingto pass false coins. He uses the same scent as Maraquito does, leavingmysterious Mrs. Herne out of the question. "

"Well, and what do you deduce from that?"

"I believe that there is a gang of coiners in existence, of which thisman, Clancy, Hale, Maraquito and Mrs. Herne are members. All use thescent Hikui, which probably is a sign amongst them. In what way it isutilized I cannot say, unless they meet one another in the dark, andrecognize their confreres by the scent. "

"I see. It might be so. But why should this man burn my house?"

Jennings shrugged his shoulders. "I can hardly say. I think thecoiners used that house as a factory. But since it is burnt down, thatseems impossible. This man may have fired it out of revenge, onaccount of some row with the gang. "

"Or else, " said Caranby deliberately, "knowing that you were going tosearch the house, perhaps it was fired to destroy all traces of thefactory. Do you connect this with Selina's death?"

"I do. I believe that she learned of the existence of the factory, andthat she threatened to denounce Clancy, Hale and Mrs. Herne. Then, tosilence her, she was stabbed. "

"But the three you mention were out of the house before the death. "

"I know that, and they gave their evidence freely enough at theinquest. I have not yet fitted the pieces of the puzzle into oneanother, but I am certain the lot are connected from their use of theperfume. Also, as this man who has been caught was passing falsemoney, and as Maraquito and probably Mrs. Herne are surviving membersof the Saul family who practised coining, I should not be surprised tofind that my theories are correct. But how could anyone know that Iintended to go, over your house?"

"You asked me in Maraquito's salon. Clancy and Hale were about. "

"Humph!" said Jennings, "you see the various parts of the puzzle arefitting together excellently. Probably one of those two overheard. "

"Probably. That Hale looks a sly creature and capable of much. Iwonder if he is related to the Saul family. He has the same nose. "

"And the same eyebrows meeting over the nose, " said Jennings. "Mrs. Herne has a similar mark. I am sure she is a relative of Maraquito's. "

"If she is her aunt, I give you leave to call me a fool, " said Caranby, rising. "I know that Emilia told me she had no sister. What will youdo next, Jennings?"

"I shall see this man who fired the house and try to get at the truth. Then I am having Mrs. Herne watched--"

"And Maraquito?"

"She can't move from her couch, so there is no danger of her escaping. But now that the coining factory is destroyed, I shall find itdifficult to bring home the crime to anyone. I wish Cuthbert wouldcome. "

"Do you expect him?"

"Yes. Listen, Lord Caranby, " and Jennings related the episode of theknife, and how he had brought Mallow and Juliet together. "And itseems to me, " went on the detective, "that Cuthbert learned somethingfrom Miss Saxon which he does not wish to tell me. "

"Something to do with Mrs. Octagon. "

"Why with her?" demanded Jennings suddenly. 

"Oh, because I think Isabella capable of much. She is a fatal woman!"

"What do you mean by that phrase?"

"Isabella exercised a bad influence on my life. But for her I shouldhave married Selina and should not have fallen in with Emilia Saul. Ishould have been happy, and probably Selina would not have met with hertragic death. "

"Do you think the sister has anything to do with it?"

"I can't say. All I know is that whomsoever Isabella came into contactwith had trouble. I do well to call her a fatal woman. "

"Humph!" said Jennings, "I would rather call Maraquito a fatal woman, as I believe she brought about the death in some way for the doublepurpose of silencing Miss Loach regarding the factory of coins and ofstopping the marriage of her rival with Cuthbert. "

Curiously enough, Cuthbert was shown into the room at this moment. Sointerested had Caranby and Jennings been in their conversation thatthey had not heard the bell. Mallow looked in good health, but hisface wore a worried expression. Without preamble, and after greetinghis uncle, he walked up to his friend. 

"Jennings, " he said calmly, "I have seen Juliet, and she agrees with methat this case should not be gone on with. "

"Ah! does she, and on what grounds?"

"Because she has consented to marry me. She intends, at my request, tomake over Miss Loach's money to her mother. We have had quite enoughdabbling in crime, and we are both sick of it. "

"I think you are very wise, " said Caranby unexpectedly, "let the casebe, Mr. Jennings. "

"What did Miss Saxon tell you?" asked the detective irrelevantly. 

Mallow sat down and in a calm voice detailed all that he had learnedfrom Juliet. "So you see it throws no light on the subject. " HadMallow mentioned the time at which Juliet asserted she saw him climbover the wall a new light would certainly have been thrown. But hepurposely omitted this, and simply said that Juliet had seen him. "Itold you I was there, Jennings, " he added. "Quite so, " said thedetective. "Certainly, nothing new has come out. "

"Well, then leave the case alone. "

"I fear I shall have to, now that the Rexton house has been burntdown, " and Jennings related in his turn what had taken place. 

Cuthbert listened moodily. "You see, " he said, "everything is againstus. I only wanted the mystery cleared up so that Juliet might marryme, but now that she wishes to do so, without searching further, I amnot going to do anything else. "

"Nor I, " said Jennings sadly, "nothing is to be learned. The case willremain a mystery to the end of time. "

Caranby rose and took Cuthbert's arm. "You young men arefaint-hearted, " he said, with a shrug. 

"If you want my opinion, Mrs. Octagon killed her sister. A fatalwoman, I tell you both--a fatal woman. "

"And a clever one, " said Jennings gloomily, "she has baffled me. "

CHAPTER XIX

SUSAN'S DISCOVERY

Although Jennings appeared to acquiesce in Mallow's suggestion that thecase should be abandoned, he had not the slightest intention of leavingthe matter alone. His professional pride was irritated by thedifficulties, and he swore that he would in some way learn the truth. Moreover, the matter did not only deal with the death of Miss Loach, but with the discovery of a coining gang. From various obvious factsconnected with the Crooked Lane crime, Jennings made sure that such agang was in existence, and that the factory had been in the unfinishedhouse. Now that the house was burnt down, it would seem that thecoiners had lost their city of refuge, and would probably give up theirnefarious trade. As the gang--judging from the number of false coinscirculated during the past five years--had been in existence for a longtime, it was probable that the members had made sufficient money toretire from so dangerous a business. 

"I wonder if the house was set on fire by this arrested man, out ofrevenge, " thought Jennings, as he dressed to go out, "or whether thegang, finding things were growing dangerous since the death of MissLoach, ordered him to destroy the factory? I can hardly think that, asto preserve the secret, Miss Loach was assassinated. It is not likelythat after paying so terrible a price, such destruction would be agreedupon. Certainly the factory may be removed to another place. Humph! Iwonder if I can trace it. The best thing for me to do will be to go toRexton and look at the ruins. "

So to Rexton the detective went, and found a large crowd round the wallof the park. This had been broken down in several places so as toadmit the fire engines, and Jennings found a policeman on duty who hadbeen one of the first to see the fire, and who had indeed summoned thebrigade. On telling his name and position, the man was willing tostate all he knew. 

"I was on duty about eight o'clock, " he said officially. "There was ahigh wind blowing, but the night was fine and dry. While walking downCrooked Lane, intending to take the path to the station, I saw a lightbehind the wall of the park. Then a tongue of flame shot up, and itdidn't need much cleverness to see that the old house was on fire. Almost before I could collect my wits, sir, the place was in a blaze. You see the dry weather, the heat and the high wind, made everythingblaze finely. I signalled for the brigade, and it came up as soon aspossible. But as there is no gate in the wall, we had to break it downto get the engines in. There was a large crowd by this time, and wehad all the help we needed. By this time the whole house was flaminglike a bonfire. When we got the wall down the most part of the housewas gone, and the fire had caught the surrounding shrubs, so all wecould do was to halt on the edge of the mass and squirt water, in thehope of putting out the flames. But, Lord bless you!" said the officerwith good-humored contempt, "you might as well have tried with achild's squirt. As you see, sir, everything is gone within the wall. Leastways, all but that big oak near the wall. "

It was as the man said. House, trees, shrubs, even the grass had beenswept away by the fierce flames. Within the walls which had secludedthe place from the world was a blackened space covered with debris. Where the house had stood was a mound of twisted iron girders, charredbeams and broken slates. And everywhere the wind was lifting the finegray ashes and scattering them abroad, as though in sorrow for thedestruction of the previous night. Jennings took all this in at aglance. Policemen were on guard at the various gaps in the wall, as noone was allowed to enter. But the detective, by virtue of his office, walked across the bare expanse with the inspector, and trod under footthe black ashes. There was nothing to be gained, however, by thisinspection. All that could be seen were the destroyed park and themound where the house had been. "What of the cellars?" asked Jennings. 

"Well, " said Inspector Twining genially, "I suppose there are cellars, but there's nothing in them. The house was shut up for years by aqueer nobleman. "

"By Lord Caranby, " replied the detective. "I know. I suppose thecellars are under that heap. I must get Lord Caranby to allow me toclear it away. "

"I expect that will be done, whether or no. Lord Caranby came down andtold one of our men that he intended to throw down the wall and let theplace as a building site. So when the building begins the heap willsoon be cleared away and the cellars laid bare. But there's nothingthere, " said the inspector again. 

"I am not so sure of that. "

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I have an idea, " answered the detective, who did not wish totell the man how he now began to fancy that the factory for safety hadbeen placed in the cellars. "By the way, did this man who was arrestedgive his name?"

"No. He refuses to answer any questions. He was, as you know, Mr. Jennings, arrested for trying to pass a bad shilling, but there is nodoubt he fired the place. The bottle of petroleum he had in hispossession was empty, and--"

"Yes! I heard all that. Where is he now?"

The inspector named a place near Rexton where the man had beenincarcerated, pending being brought before the magistrate. "I am goingthat way, " said the inspector. "If you like to come--"

"I'll come, " said Jennings. "I intended to see this man. There hasbeen a lot of talk about false coins being passed lately. "

Mr. Twining nodded, and began to tell of various cases which had takenplace in the district. The two took the train to the place where thepolice station to which the inspector belonged was situated. It wasnow after twelve o'clock, and Jennings thought he would have someluncheon before going to the station. But, unexpectedly, a constableseeing the inspector, came hurriedly towards him, saluting as he spoke. 

"Please, sir, you're wanted at the station, " he said. "A message wassent to Rexton. "

"I have just come from Rexton. What is it?"

"That man who was arrested for coining, sir?"

"What about him?" asked the inspector, while Jennings listened with allhis ears. He was far from expecting to hear the reply. 

"He is dead, sir, " said the policeman. 

"Dead! What do you mean? He was well enough this morning. "

"Well, sir, he's dead now--poisoned!"

"Poisoned!" echoed Jennings, and thought--"Ha! here's an undesirablewitness got out of the way. " Then he followed in the wake of theinspector, who on hearing the news, hurriedly walked towards the policestation. Here they found that the news was true. The constable leftin charge of the office was greatly agitated, as it seemed he had beenlax in doing his duty. But he made a faithful report. 

"It was this way, sir, " he said, trying to speak calmly. "A boy offifteen, very poorly dressed--in rags almost--came crying and askingfor the prisoner. He said the prisoner was his father. "

"How did he know that, when the prisoner gave no name and was arrestedonly last night?"

"The boy--Billy Tyke his name is, so I suppose the father is calledTyke also--says his father went out last night. He was always adrunkard, and left the boy to starve. The boy followed him later, andknowing he would be on the burst, went to the public-house, where theman was arrested for passing the bad shilling. There, he was told thathis father was in jail, and came here to ask us to let him see him. "

"You should have refused and have detained the boy. Well?"

"I was moved by the little chap's tears, " said the constable, abashed, "so I let him go into the cell. "

"Were you with him?" asked the inspector sharply. 

"No, sir. We left them alone for a few minutes. As the boy was so sadand cut up, I thought there would be no harm in doing that. Well, sir, the boy came out again in ten minutes, still crying, and said he wouldget a lawyer to defend his father. He did not believe his father hadpassed the money. Then he went away. Later--about half an hour later, we went into the cell and found the man lying groaning, with an emptybottle of whisky beside him. The doctor came and said he thought theman had been poisoned. The man groaned and said the young shaver haddone for him. Then he became unconscious and died. "

Jennings listened to this statement calmly. He saw again the hand ofthe coiners. The person who controlled the members evidently thoughtthat the man would blab, and accordingly took precautionary measures tosilence him. Without doubt, the man had been poisoned, and the boy hadbeen sent to do it. "What is the boy like?" he asked. 

"Billy Tyke, sir?" said the constable, replying on a nod from hischief, to whom he looked for instructions, "a thin boy, fair and withred rims round his eyes--looks half starved, sir, and has a scarredmouth, as though he had been cut on the upper lip with a knife. "

Jennings started, but suppressed his emotion under the keen eyes of theobservant Twining. He had an idea that he knew who the boy was, but asyet could not be sure. "I'll cut along to the public-house where thisman was arrested, " said Jennings, "I suppose you'll hold an inquest. "

"Certainly, seeing the man has been poisoned. " Then the inspectorproceeded to rebuke the constable who had performed his duty so ill, and threatened him with dismissal. Jennings left in the midst of thetrouble, after getting the inspector to promise that, he would reportthe result of the inquest. 

At the public-house--it was the "White Horse, " Keighley, an adjoiningsuburb--Jennings learned that the man who called himself--or rather whowas called by his presumed son--Tyke, was not an habitue of the place. Therefore, the boy could not have known that his supposed father wasthere. Apparently some information had reached the lad, whereby he wasable to trace Tyke to the prison, and had carried to him there thebottle of poisoned whisky. Jennings returned to town quite satisfiedthat he had another clue to the existence of the coiners. Also, hedetermined to satisfy himself on a point concerning Maraquito, aboutwhich he had long been in doubt. 

For the next few days Jennings did nothing. He kept away from Mallow, as he did not wish that young man to know that he was still going onwith the case. Sometimes he went to Maraquito's place, and learnedincidentally that, as there was a chance of her being cured, she wasabout to give up the gambling salon. Jennings quite expected thisinformation, and assured Hale, who gave it to him, that it was the bestthing Maraquito could do. "Sooner or later the police will pounce downon this place, " he said. 

"As you are a detective, I wonder you haven't stopped it before, " saidHale, with an unpleasant smile. 

"I had my reasons, " said Jennings calmly, "besides, Maraquito hasconducted the place quite respectably. I suppose, " he added idly, "youwill go abroad also?"

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Hale in silky tones. 

"Mrs. Herne has gone to the Continent, " said Jennings quietly, "and ifSenora Gredos gives up this very dangerous business, she may go also. As you will be deprived of two of your friends, Mr. Hale, doubtless youwill go also. "

"I might. One never knows, " replied Hale coolly. 

"By the way?" asked Jennings, looking round, "I was admitted by aparlor-maid this evening. Where is Gibber?"

"I believe Senora Gredos has dismissed him for dishonesty. "

"Ah, really, " replied the detective, who had his own opinion. "So itseems Senora Gredos is getting rid of her household already. "

Hale winced under the eye of Jennings and turned away with a shrug. Hewas apparently glad to get away. Jennings looked after him with asmile. "I'll catch the whole gang, " he murmured, and took hisdeparture, having learned what he wished to know--to wit, that Gibberhad disappeared. 

"Without doubt he was the boy who poisoned Tyke, " said Jennings, as hewalked home with a cigar for company. "I believe Maraquito is the headof the gang, and the fatal woman that Caranby talks about. She heardthat Tyke had been arrested, and sent the boy to poison him lest heshould blab. I wonder if it was by her direction that the house wasfired. Well, I'll wait. As yet I cannot get a warrant, having nothingbut theory to go on. But the nets are being spread, and unlessMaraquito and her friends clear out with Mrs. Herne, they will becaught. When they are all in jail there may be some chance of learningwho murdered that unfortunate woman in Rose Cottage. "

Later on, Jennings received the report of the inquest, which appearedalso that evening in the newspapers. It seemed that Tyke had beenpoisoned with arsenic, administered in the whisky bottle. From hisappearance he was a hard drinker, and doubtless the boy had nodifficulty in inducing him to drink. Tyke had drank freely--indeed thedoctor said he had taken enough to kill three men, --and therefore hehad died almost immediately the boy left, and before he had time tospeak. The inspector, who wrote to Jennings, stated that the constablewho had admitted the boy had been dismissed the force, but the boyhimself could not be traced. "I shouldn't be surprised if he had takenrefuge in the cellars of the house, " said Jennings, "that is, if thefactory is there. I must see Caranby and get his permission to removethe rubbish. Only when I have searched the foundation of that house, will my suspicions be set at rest. "

Unexpected aid came to help him in this quarter, as Caranby sent anote, stating that the rubbish and debris of the fire would be removednext week, and inviting Jennings to be present. Caranby added thatMallow had resumed his visits to the "Shrine of the Muses, " but thatMrs. Octagon still continued hostile. Basil, however, was morefriendly. "I daresay, " commented Jennings, on reading this lastsentence, "he has his own axe to grind over that money. "

It was about this time that the detective received a visit from SusanGrant. She looked as neat and timid as usual, and appeared at hisrooms one morning with a request for an interview. "I said I wouldhelp Mr. Mallow if I could, " she said when seated. 

"Oh, and have you anything likely to help him, -"

"Not exactly, " said Susan, "but I found some old papers of father's. "

"I don't quite understand, " said the detective, who did not see whatthe girl's father had to do in the matter. 

"Well, it's this way, sir. Father was poisoned five years ago. "

"Who poisoned him?"

"That we never knew, " explained Susan. "Father's name was Maxwell, butwhen mother married Mr. Grant she made me take that name. It wassupposed that father committed suicide, and mother felt the disgracedreadful. That was why she married and changed the name. But I don'tbelieve father, when on the point of making us rich, would swallow somuch arsenic as he did. "

"What's that--arsenic?" said Jennings, recalling the death of Tyke. 

"Yes, sir. It was this way. Father was working at Rexton--"

"At Rexton?" said Jennings impatiently, "yes, yes, go on. "

"At a house near the railway station which I can point out, motherhaving seen it when she went to inquire. "

"Inquire about what?"

"About father's secret job. He had one he used to go to for threehours every day by agreement with the foreman. Father was very cleverand could do all sorts of things. Mother never knew what the job was, but father said it would make us all rich. "

"Yes, go on. " Jennings looked at her, nursing his chin. 

"The other day I came across some papers, " said Susan, taking a rollout of her pocket. "And it proved to be plans of father's secret job. And you might have knocked me down with a feather, Mr. Jennings, when Isaw on the plans the name of Rose Cottage. "

The detective jumped up, greatly excited. "Rose Cottage!" he cried, holding out his hands. "The plans--the plans!"

"I brought them, as I know Miss Saxon who now has Rose Cottage, isengaged to Mr. Mallow--"

"Haven't you got over that nonsense yet?" said Jennings, who waslooking eagerly at the plans. 

"Yes, I have, " replied Miss Grant, confidentially. "I am engaged to arising young baker who is just a foreman just now, but we hope to saveand start a shop. Still, I promised to help Mr. Mallow, and I thoughthe would like to see those plans. You see, sir, they have to do withRose Cottage. "

"Yes, I do see, " almost shouted Jennings, "and I'll bag the whole lot. "

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"Ah, I forgot you don't know, " said the detective subsiding, "I'll tellyou later. But you have made a discovery, Susan. This plan shows asecret entrance into Rose Cottage. "

"I know it does, sir, and I thought Miss Saxon would like to see it. Idon't know what Miss Loach wanted with a secret entrance, though. "

"I fancy I do, " said Jennings, rolling up the plans. "Your father wasa very clever man, Susan. Too clever for some people. He made thissecret entrance when the new wing of the cottage was built five yearsago, and those who employed him gave him arsenic by way of a reward. Tyke died of arsenic also, so they are carrying on the same game. "

"Oh dear, oh dear!" wept Susan, not hearing the latter part of thesentence. "So father was poisoned after all. Who did it, sir?"

"I can't tell you that, " said Jennings, becoming cautious. "You hadbetter say nothing about this, Susan, till I give you leave. You havedone Mr. Mallow a great service. These plans may lead to a discoveryof the murderer. "

"And then Miss Saxon will marry Mr. Mallow. "

"Yes. Will you be sorry?"

"No, Mr. Jennings. I am quite satisfied with my baker. "

"Then I tell you what, Susan. Lord Caranby has offered a reward forthe detection of the murderer. If these plans lead to his detection, you will receive a sufficient sum to set up in business. "

CHAPTER XX

BASIL

While Jennings was thus working at the case, and hoping to bring it toa successful issue, Cuthbert was resting in the happy belief that nofurther steps were being taken. The detective had appeared sodespondent when Mallow called with Caranby that the former thought withsome show of reason that he meant what he said. Had he known thatJennings was still active he would have been much disturbed. 

Agreeably to Cuthbert's suggestion, Juliet had offered the money ofMiss Loach to her mother. But Mrs. Octagon refused to be bribed--asshe put it--into consenting to the match. In the presence of Mallowhimself, she expressed the greatest detestation for him and for hisuncle, and told Juliet she would never acknowledge her as a daughter ifshe married the young man. The poor girl was thus between twofires--that of her love for Cuthbert, and that of her mother's heartyhatred for the Earl and his nephew. Under the circumstances Cuthbertthought it best to remain away from the "Shrine of the Muses" for atime until Mrs. Octagon could be brought to see reason. But she was soobstinate a woman that it was doubtful if she would ever behave in, anagreeable manner. Cuthbert returned to his rooms in a rather low stateof mind. He knew that Juliet, whatever happened, would remain true tohim, and had quite hoped to bribe Mrs. Octagon into consenting by meansof the inherited money. But now things seemed more hopeless than ever. Juliet, although not very fond of her mother, was a devoted daughterfrom a sense of duty, and it would be difficult to bring her to consentto a match against which the elder woman so obstinately set her face. 

Certainly Juliet had said she would marry with or without her mother'sconsent, but now that the consent was withheld with violent words, sheseemed inclined to wait. However, if she did not marry Mallow, he knewwell that she would marry no one else, least of all the objectionableArkwright, Cuthbert derived some degree of comfort from this smallfact. He wondered if there was any chance of forcing Mrs. Octagon intogiving her consent, but after surveying the situation could see noopportunity. 

After dinner that night, Cuthbert was thinking of going to see hisuncle, who still stopped at the Avon Hotel when Hale was announced. Mallow was surprised. The lawyer was not a friend of his, and he hadno liking for his company. However, he felt a certain curiosity as tothe reason of this unexpected visit and welcomed the man with civility. But he did not ask him to have any coffee though it was on the table. Cuthbert held to the traditions of the East regarding bread and salt, and he wished to leave himself free to deal with Hale as an enemy, should occasion arise, as it might. Hale was far too intimate withMaraquito to please the young man. And Maraquito's attentions were fartoo pressing to make Cuthbert feel comfortable in her presence. 

"Well, Mr. Hale, " said Mallow coldly, "why have you come?"

The lawyer, who was in an evening suit and dressed with taste and care, took a seat, although not invited to do so. He looked cold and calm, but there was an excited gleam in his large eyes which showed that hiscalmness masked some emotion, the cause of which Cuthbert could notfathom. "I have come to see you about young Saxon, " he said. 

"Really, " answered Mallow coolly, although surprised, "what can youhave to say to me about him. "

"He is your friend--"

"Pardon me. I can hardly call him so. We are acquaintances only. "

"But you are engaged to his sister, " persisted Hale. 

Mallow threw away the cigarette he was lighting and jumped up. "I seeno reason why Miss Saxon's name should be mentioned, Mr. Hale. "

"Don't you, Mr. Mallow? I do. "

"Then I object to your mentioning it. State your business and go, Mr. Hale. I have no acquaintance with you. "

"I can't state my business unless I mention Miss Saxon's name. "

"Then you will please to take yourself off, " said Mallow. 

Hale smiled coldly, though evidently annoyed. "I think it is to yourinterest to hear me, " he said deliberately, "and to the interest of thelady whom you hope to call your wife. "

"Does this business concern Miss Saxon?"

"Indirectly it does. But it rather has to do with her brother. "

Mallow frowned. The conversation was taking a turn of which he did notapprove. However, he knew well the dangerous ground upon which hestood with regard to the case, and thought it best to hear what hisunexpected visitor had to say. "State your business, " he said curtly. 

"Very good, " replied Hale, nursing his silk hat on his knee. "I see youdon't offer me coffee or a cigarette. "

"We are not friends, sir. And let me remind you that you thrustyourself uninvited on me. "

"To do you a service, " said Hale quickly. "I think, therefore, that Ideserve a better reception. "

"Will you please come to the point?" said Mallow coldly, "whatever theservice may be, I am quite sure it is two for you if one for me. Youare not the man to go out of your way, Mr. Hale, to help anyone. "

Hale nodded and smiled grimly. "You are quite right. Now, then, Mr. Mallow, do you know that Basil Saxon was to have inherited the money ofmy late client, Miss Loach?"

"No, I never knew that. I understood that Miss Loach always intendedto leave the money to Miss Saxon. "

Hale shook his well-oiled head. "On the contrary, Mr. Saxon was herfavorite. In spite of his wild ways she liked him. However, she wasalso fond of Miss Saxon, and you may thank Miss Loach, Mr. Mallow, forhaving been the means of forwarding your engagement. "

"What do you mean by that?" asked Cuthbert angrily. 

"Mrs. Octagon, " went on the lawyer deliberately, "would never haveconsented to Miss Saxon becoming engaged to you had not Miss Loachinsisted that she should agree. "

"Seeing that Mrs. Octagon hated her sister and was not likely, to beinfluenced by her, I do not see how that can be. "

"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, such is the case. You saw how, when MissLoach died, Mrs. Octagon seized the first opportunity to placeobstacles in the way of your marriage. "

"I believe she did that on Maraquito's account, Mr. Hale. I knowperfectly well that Mrs. Octagon called on Maraquito. "

"Quite so--to ask Maraquito not to let Basil Saxon play beyond hismeans. Certainly, Maraquito having a strange fancy for you, agreed, oncondition that Mrs. Octagon refuse to let Miss Saxon marry you. But, in any case, Mrs. Octagon hates your uncle too much to allow herdaughter to become your wife. You will never get Mrs. Octagon's consentunless I help you. "

"You!" echoed Mallow, astonished and annoyed. "What possible influencecan you have with Mrs. Octagon. I have certainly seen you at herhouse, but I scarcely think you know her well enough--"

"Oh, yes, I do. " Hale rose in his earnestness. "See here, sir; I loveMaraquito and I wish to marry her. "

"You can, so far as I am concerned, "

"So you say, " said Hale bitterly, "but you cannot be ignorant thatMaraquito loves you. "

"I don't see what that has to do with our conversation, " repliedMallow, growing red and restless. 

"It has everything to do with the matter. I want to marry Maraquito, as I am rich and deeply in love with her. She would have become mywife long ago but that you crossed her path. Lord knows why she shouldlove a commonplace man like you, but she does. "

"Isn't that rather personal?" said Mallow dryly. 

"I beg your pardon. But what I wish to say is this. If you marry MissSaxon and place yourself beyond Maraquito's reach, I will be able toinduce her to marry me. Our interests are bound up together. Now, todo this you must have Mrs. Octagon's consent. I can get it. "

"In what way?"

"She loves Basil, her son, more than she does herself, " went on Hale, paying no attention to the remark. "To save him she would do much. "

"To save him from what?"

"Basil;" continued the lawyer, still not noticing the interruption, "isa young fool. He thought himself sure of Miss Loach's money--and hewas until a week before she died. Then he came to Rose Cottage andinsulted her--"

"I have heard that. She ordered him out of the house. "

"She did. Miss Loach was a bitter, acrid old woman when the fit tookher. However, Basil insulted her so grossly that she made a new willand left all the money to Miss Saxon. Now it happens that Basil, tosupply himself with funds, when his aunt refused to aid hisextravagance further, forged her name to a bill--What's the matter?"

"Nothing, " said Mallow, who had started from his chair, "only yourintelligence is sufficiently unpleasant. "

"I can understand that, " sneered the lawyer, "since you wish to marryhis sister. You don't want a forger for a brother-in-law. "

"Who does?" said Cuthbert, not telling that he was thinking of Basil inconnection with a still darker crime. "Go on, Mr. Hale. "

"The bill fell into my hands. When Miss Saxon got the money shetransferred the business to her own lawyer. I had to give the bill up. "

"Ah!" said Mallow meaningly, "I see now the hold you had over Basil. "

"Yes, that was my hold. I did not want to give up the bill. But it hadbeen met, and as Miss Loach is dead, there was a difficulty in provingthe signature to be a forgery. I therefore gave the bill to MissSaxon. She knew of her brother's guilt--"

"I see--I see, " murmured Cuthbert, wondering if she had been shieldingBasil as well as him. "My poor girl!"

"She is a brave girl, " said Hale, in a voice of reluctant admiration. "She met me and fought for her brother. I gave way, as I did not wishto make trouble. Why, it doesn't matter. However, you see how thingsstand. Basil is a forger. If his mother knew that he was in danger ofbeing arrested she would consent to your marriage, and then I mightmarry Maraquito. I have come here to tell you this. "

"But if Miss Saxon has the bill, and there is a difficulty of provingthe signature, owing to Miss Loach's death, I don't see--"

"Ah, not in this case. But Basil Saxon forged my name also. I hold aforged check. I met it and said nothing about it. Basil, thinkingbecause his sister held the bill that he was out of my power, was mostinsolent. But I said nothing of the check which he thought I neverdetected. The more fool he. He must have a fine opinion of my businesscapacity. However, as the check is only for fifty hounds, he probablythought that it would escape my notice. Well, you see how I can forceMrs. Octagon's hand. What do you say?"

Mallow put his hands to his head quite bewildered by the information. 

"You must give me time to think, " he said, "but if I consent--"

"You marry Miss Saxon. I ask no reward for my services. All I want isto get you out of my way as regards Maraquito. I will give you theforged check on the day you wed Miss Saxon. I can see, " added Hale, rising, "that you are somewhat upset with this news, and no wonder. You never thought Basil was such a scoundrel. "

"I thought him a fool, never a knave. "

"My dear sir, he is a thoroughly bad man, " said Hale cynically, "thoughI daresay other people are just as bad. However, I will give you a weekto think over the matter. Good-night. "

"Good-night, " said Mallow, touching the bell, but without meeting thegaze of Hale, "I will think over what you have said. "

"You will find it to your advantage to do so, " replied Hale, and wentout of the room at the heels of the servant. 

Mallow remained where he was in deep thought. It was terrible to thinkthat the brother of Juliet should be such a scamp. A forger andperhaps something else. Here, indeed, was a motive for Miss Loach tomeet with her death at her nephew's hand. Probably on the night inquestion she threatened to let the law take its course, and thenBasil--but at this point of his meditations a ring came at the door. In a few moments Cuthbert heard a step he knew and rose with anagitated air. Basil entered the room. 

The young man was carefully dressed as usual in his rather affectedway, but his face was pale and he seemed uneasy. "I see you have had avisit from Hale, " he said, trying to appear at his ease. 

"How do you know that?" asked Mallow abruptly, and declining to see theproffered hand. 

"I saw Hale enter a cab as I came up the stairs, " said Basil, drawingback; "and even had I not seen him I would know that he has beentelling you a lot of lies because you refuse to shake hands. "

"Are they lies?"

"Ah, then, he has been talking. He is my enemy. He comes here to dome harm, " said Basil, his eyes flashing. 

"He came here as your friend, " replied Mallow abruptly, "Hale wishes meto marry your sister. He offers to hand over to me a certain check ifI marry her. "

"I don't know what you are talking about, " cried Basil petulantly, andthrew himself into a chair, very pale. 

"I think you know very well. Why have you come here?"

Basil looked sullen. "I want you to marry Juliet also. And I came tosay that I thought I could get my mother to take that money and towithdraw her opposition. "

"So that you may have the fingering of the money?"

"Oh, I suppose she will give me some, " said Basil airily, and began toroll a cigarette with deft fingers. 

Mallow was enraged at this coolness. "Basil, you are a scoundrel!"

"Am I, indeed? Nice words to use to your future relative. "

"How do you know I will ever be your relative. Suppose I refuse Hale'sdemand, and let him proceed on this check?"

Basil's cigarette dropped our of his hand. "I don't know what checkyou mean, " he declared with alarm, "there was a bill--I couldn't helpmyself. My aunt--"

"Gave you a lot of money and you repaid her by forging her name. Butyou also forged Hale's name. "

"Ah, I know what you mean now. It was only for fifty pounds. "

"Had it been for fifty pence the crime is the same, " said Mallowvehemently, "why did you not let me help you? I offered to. But youpreferred to commit a crime. "

"Such a fuss to make, " muttered the youth discontentedly, "the bill isin the possession of Juliet, and no steps can be taken on that. Ifmother accepts this six thousand a year, she will buy the check backfrom Hale. He's a scoundrel and will do anything for money. Then youcan marry Juliet, and I can go abroad for a few years on an income ofthree thousand. Mother will allow me that. "

The coolness of this speech almost took Mallow's breath away. The mandid not seem to be at all affected by his crime. So long as he was notfound out he appeared to think nothing about the matter. "And I knowyou will marry Juliet, " proceeded Basil, "you love her too well to giveher up. "

"That is true enough, " said Cuthbert, who, having already spared himtoo long, now determined to punish him, "but I may love her so wellthat I may not wish to buy her. "

"What do you mean by buying her?" demanded Basil sulkily. 

"What I say. Is it only to save you that I am to marry Juliet? Mymarriage must be one of love--"

"She does love you. And I don't see, " added Basil complainingly, "whyyou should jump on a chap for wishing for your happiness--"

"And your own safety. "

"Oh, bosh! The bill is destroyed. Juliet put it into the fire, andHale will sell the check at his own price. "

"His price is that I am to marry Juliet. "

"So that he can marry Maraquito, I suppose. I know that she loves youand that Hale is crazy about her. It's very hard on me, " whined theegotistical youth, "for I want to marry her myself, only mother put herspoke in my wheel. "

"Dare you offer yourself to Maraquito, bad as she is, knowing what youare?" cried Mallow, fairly disgusted. 

"Oh, the forgeries. What of them? It's nothing. " Basil snapped hisfingers. "Maraquito won't mind. But I suppose I'll have to give herup on account of that infernal check. Such a small one as it was too. I wish I had made it one hundred and fifty. I could have done so. "

In the face of this callous behavior it was sheer wrongdoing to sparethe man. "I do not allude to the forgery, though that is bad enough, "said Cuthbert, glancing round to see that the door was closed, "but tothe murder of your aunt. You killed her. "

Basil leaped from his chair with great indignation. "I did not. Howdare you accuse me?" he panted. 

"Because I have proofs. "

"Proofs?" Basil dropped back as though he had been shot. 

"Yes. I learned from my man that you took the bowie knife which usedto hang on the wall yonder. He saw you take it, and thought you hadreceived my permission. You went to the Marlow Theatre with yoursister. You left her in the box and went out after eight o'clock. Youwent to Rexton to Rose Cottage. After Clancy left the house your auntadmitted you and you killed her--"

"I swear I did not!" said Basil, perfectly white and trembling. 

"You did, you liar! Juliet followed you to the cottage. "

"Juliet? She did not know I had gone. "

"Ah! you see, you were there. Yes, she said she went in order to tryand make it up between your aunt and you. But I believe now she wentto see if you were committing a crime. I am not aware how much Julietknows of your wickedness, Basil, but--"

"She knows only about the forgery. I was not at the cottage. "

Mallow made a weary gesture. "Why do you tell these falsehoods?" hesaid with scorn. "Juliet entered the cottage by means of herlatch-key. She found Miss Loach dead and the knife on the floor. Youdropped it there. She came out and saw a man of my height--which youare, and of my appearance (you are not unlike me at a distance)climbing the wall into the park. He had on alight overcoat--myovercoat. Juliet thought I was the man. I did not say no. But themoment she mentioned the coat I knew it was you. You borrowed the coatfrom me, and returned it the other day. Now then--"

"Stop! stop!" cried Basil, rising with pale lips and shaking hands, "Iadmit that I went to Rexton on that night, but I swear I am innocent. "

"Pah!" cried Mallow, thinking this was another lie, and a weak one too. 

Basil seized him by the arm. "Mallow, I swear by all that I hold mostsacred that I did not kill Aunt Selina. I own I took the knife. Iwished to frighten her into giving me money. I left the theatre inorder to go to Rexton. I thought I might be spotted if I came by thelane. I climbed the wall of the park on the other side after nine, some time after nine. I was crossing when a man chased me. I don'tknow who it was. I could not see in the bushes, and the night wasrather dark at the moment, though clear later. I dropped the knife, itfell out of my pocket, and I scrambled over the wall and bolted. "

"Then how did Juliet see you shortly before eleven?"

"I came back for the knife. I thought it might be traced to you andthat you might get into trouble. Really I did, " said Basil, seeingMallow make a gesture of dissent. "I came back by the railway path, and along by the corn. Where Juliet could have been, I don't know. Iclimbed the wall and crossed the park. I could not find the knifewhere I thought I had dropped it, near the house. I then climbed theopposite wall and got away home. Next day I heard of the death andwent down to look for the knife again. I never thought she had beenkilled with that knife, as no weapon was found. Juliet said nothing tome about the matter--"

"No. Because she thought the knife was mine, as it is, and that I wasthe man who climbed the wall. I was on the spot. I remember tellingyou that, when we met in the street, and you were afraid. I see nowwhy you asked me if I had been in the park at night. "

"I thought you might have spotted me. When were you there?"

"About twenty minutes past ten. "

"Well, then, I was there at ten or a few minutes later. I got awayfrom the man who chased me some time before you came. It was, as yousay, at a quarter to eleven when I came back, and by that time Isuppose you had gone. "

"I went over the opposite wall as you did, " said Cuthbert, "we musthave run each other very close. "

"I expect we were in different parts of the park, " said Basil, "but Iswear that I am telling you the truth. I said nothing about this, as Iwas afraid of being arrested. But, if you like, I'll tell thatdetective Jennings what I told you. He will help me. "

"My advice to you is to hold your tongue and keep silent. "

"But if I am traced?" stammered Basil. 

"I shall say nothing, " said Mallow, "and Jennings has dropped the case. I shall get the check from Hale, and you must go abroad. I believe youare innocent. "

"Oh, thank you--thank you--"

"But you are a scoundrel for all that. When I get you sent abroad andmarry your sister, neither she nor I will have anything to do with you. And if you come back to England, look out. "

CHAPTER XXI

AN EXPERIMENT

Next day Cuthbert received a letter from Jennings. It intimated thatMaraquito wished to see him that evening. "If you will call at nineo'clock, " wrote the detective, "she will be alone. The police havedecided to close the gambling-house, and she is making preparations toleave England. I understand she has something to tell you inconnection with the death of Miss Loach, which it is as well you shouldhear. A confession on her part may save you a lot of trouble in thefuture. "

Mallow hesitated to obey this summons. He thought it was strange thatMaraquito should get the detective to write to him, as he knew shemistrusted the man. And, apart from this, he had no wish to see SenoraGredos again. Things were now smooth between him andJuliet--comparatively so--and it would not do to rouse the girl'sjealousy. Maraquito was a dangerous woman, and if he paid her asolitary visit, he might fall into some snare which she was quitecapable of laying. Such was her infatuation, that he knew she wouldstop at nothing to gain her ends. 

On the other hand, Maraquito, to all appearances, knew of something inconnection with the case which it behooved him to learn if he wishedfor peace in the future. So far as Mallow knew, the matter was at anend. He believed that Jennings had shelved the affair, and that nofurther inquiries would be made. This belief calmed his anxiety, as hegreatly desired to save Basil Saxon from arrest. Certainly, the youngscamp protested his innocence, and told a plausible tale, but he wassuch a liar that Mallow could not be satisfied. He might be innocentas he said, yet the facts of the visit to the cottage, the possessionof the knife and of the overcoat which he wore when seen by Juliet, hinted at his guilt. Also the forged bill and check might implicatehim in the matter. Did Jennings learn of these things, he wouldcertainly arrest Saxon on suspicion, and, for Juliet's sake, Cuthbertdid not wish such a thing to happen. 

It struck Mallow that Hale might have confided in Maraquito, with whomhe was in love. Being unscrupulous, she would probably use thisinformation, and might threaten to denounce Basil, to the subsequentdisgrace of Juliet, if Cuthbert refused to marry her. Taking thesethings into consideration, Mallow decided that it would be best to paythe visit and learn what Maraquito had to say. 

It was a wild, blustering evening, rainy and damp. When Mallow steppedout of the door he shivered as the keen wind whistled down the street. Few people were abroad, as they preferred, very sensibly, the comfortof a fireside to the windy, gleaming thoroughfares. Wishing his visitto be as secret as possible, Mallow walked to Soho and turned intoGolden Square shortly before the appointed hour. He did not expect apleasant interview, as Maraquito was an uncivilized sort of woman withlittle control over her very violent emotions. Altogether, heanticipated a disagreeable quarter of an hour. 

He was admitted smilingly by a woman, and noticed with some surprisethat Gibber the page was not at his accustomed post. But he put thisdown to the fact that there was no gambling on this particular evening. The windows of the great salon were dark, and Senora Gredos receivedhim in a small apartment which she used as a sitting-room. Her couchwas drawn up close to the fire, and she appeared to be in better healththan usual. Standing at the door, Mallow thought she made a prettypicture. She had on a white wrapper trimmed with gold lace, and asusual, wore a profusion of jewelry. Across the lower part of the couchwas flung a gorgeous purple coverlet of eastern manufacture, and whatwith the brilliant colors and the glitter of precious stones, shelooked remarkably eastern herself. Mallow noticed particularly howJewish she was in appearance, and wondered how he could have been soblind as not to have remarked it before. The room looked cheerful andwarm, and was welcome after the chilly, dreary streets. Mallow, havingtaken off his overcoat in the hall, came forward and bowed somewhatformally, but Maraquito was not to be put off with so frigid agreeting. Holding out both hands, she shook his warmly and pointed toa chair near her couch. It was now a few minutes after nine. 

"How good of you to come and see me, " she said in her deep, rich voice. "The evening was so dull. "

"You are not having any play this evening?"

Maraquito shrugged her fine shoulders and unfurled a quite unnecessaryfan, which, to keep up her fiction of being a Spanish lady, she alwayscarried. "Some idiot told the police what was going on and I receiveda notice to close. "

"But the police knew long ago. "

"Not officially. The police can be silent when it suits. And I alwayskept things very quiet here. I can't understand why any objectionshould be made. I suspect that man Jennings told. "

"I thought you liked him. "

"Oh, I fancied he was a friend of yours and so I made the best of him. But, to tell you the truth, Mr. Mallow, I always mistrusted him. He ismuch too fond of asking questions for my taste. Then Mr. Hale told methat the man was a detective, so I understood his unwarrantablecuriosity. I shall have nothing to do with him in future. "

"In that case, " said Mallow, anxious to arrive at the truth, "I wonderyou employ him to write letters for you. "

The woman raised herself on one rounded elbow and looked surprised atthis speech. "Really, I don't think I am so foolish, " said she dryly. "Why do you say that?"

Mallow looked puzzled. "Jennings wrote me a letter, asking me to comehere this evening at nine. He said you wished to see me. "

Maraquito's eyes flashed. "I always wish to see you, " she said, sinking her voice to a tender tone, "and I am much obliged that Mr. Jennings' note should have brought you here. But I gave him noauthority to write it. "

"Have you seen Jennings lately?" asked Cuthbert, more and more puzzled. 

"A few nights ago. But he said nothing about you. He simply playedcards for a time and then took himself off. "

"Are you leaving England?"

"I am. Being an invalid as you see, I have no amusement butcard-playing. Now that the Puritan authorities have stopped that, Icannot stay in this dull country to be bored. But who told you?"

"Jennings said you were making preparations to leave. "

"In this letter he wrote you?" asked Maraquito, frowning. 

"Yes. I am sorry I did not bring the letter with me. But I can showit to you on another occasion. He also said you had something to tellme. "

Maraquito fastened her brilliant eyes on his face. "Mr. Jennings seemsto know much about my affairs and to take a deep interest in them. ButI assure you, I never gave him any authority to meddle. "

"Then why did he write and bring me here?"

Senora Gredos frowned and then her face cleared. "The man is such asecretive creature that I don't trust him, " she said; "and yet hedeclared himself to be my friend. He knows I like you, and hinted thathe should be glad to bring us together. "

"Jennings is a gentleman in spite of his profession, " said Mallow incutting tones. "I scarcely think he would take so great a liberty. "

"Is it a liberty?" asked Maraquito softly. 

"I consider it to be one. Jennings knows that I am engaged. "

"Stop!" she cried, gripping her fan so tightly that her knuckles grewwhite. "Do you dare to tell me this?"

"Senora--Maraquito--don't let us have a scene. I told you before thatI could not give you the love you asked. "

"And I told you that I would have that love in spite of yourunwillingness, " said the woman doggedly. "You have scorned me, and Iought to have sufficient pride to let you go your own way. But I amsuch an infatuated fool that I am content to let you tread on me. "

"I have no wish to do that, but--"

"You do--you do--you do!" she said, vehemently. "Why can you not loveme? I would be a better wife than that doll you--"

"Drop that, Maraquito. Leave Miss Saxon's name out of the question. "

"I shall talk of Miss Saxon as long as I like, " cried Maraquito, snapping the fan and growing flushed. "You scorn me because I am aninvalid--"

"I do not. If you were perfectly restored to health I would give youthe same answer. " Mallow was on his feet by this time. "I think itwould be wise of me to go. "

But Senora Gredos, stretching out her hand, caught him by the coatconvulsively. "No! no! no!" she muttered fiercely. "I did not ask youto come here. I did not send for you. But now that you are here, youwill stop. We must understand one another. "

"We do understand one another, " said Cuthbert, who was growing angry atthis unreasonable attitude. "You must know that I am engaged to MissSaxon!"

"You will never marry her--never!" cried Maraquito passionately; "oh, cruel man, can you not see that I am dying of love for you. "

"Maraquito--"

"If I were not chained to this couch, " she said between her teeth, "Ishould go after her and throw vitriol in her face. I would give hercause to repent having lured you from me with her miserable doll'sface. Pah! the minx!"

Cuthbert grew really angry. "How dare you speak like this?" he said. "If you were able to attack Miss Saxon in the vile way you say, Ishould show you no mercy. "

"What would you do--what would you do?" she panted. 

"Put you in jail. That sort of thing may do abroad but we don't allowit here. I thought you were merely a foolish woman. Now I know youare bad and wicked. "

"Cuthbert--Cuthbert. "

"My name is Mallow to you, Senora Gredos. I'll go now and never seeyou again. I was foolish to come here. "

"Wait--wait, " she cried savagely, "it is just as well that you arehere--just as well that we should come to an understanding. "

"There can be no understanding. I marry Miss Saxon and--"

"Never, never, never! Listen, I can ruin her--"

"What do you mean?"

"Her brother--"

"Oh, Basil, I know all about that. "

Maraquito threw herself back on her couch, evidently baffled. "What doyou know?" she demanded sullenly. 

"That you are about to accuse him of the death of Miss Loach. "

"Yes, I do. He killed her. There is a forged bill in--"

"I know all about that also, " said Cuthbert, making a gesture for herto be silent. "If you hope to stop my marriage with Miss Saxon by suchmeans, you have wasted your time, " he moved again towards the door. "It is time this interview ended, " he said. 

"Why did you seek it then?" she flashed out. 

"I did not. Jennings wrote, asking me to call and see you. Iunderstood that you had something to say to me. "

"I have much--though how that detestable man knew I can't think. But Ican disgrace that doll of a girl through her brother. "

"No, you cannot. Basil is perfectly innocent of murder. "

"You have to prove that, " she sneered, her features quivering and onewhite hand clutching the purple drapery, "and you know--so you say, that Basil is a forger. "

"He is a fool. I don't condone his folly, but his sister shall notsuffer on his account. The bill to which Miss Loach's name was forgedis in the possession of Miss Saxon--in fact I may tell you that Basilhimself assured me it had been destroyed. "

"Of course he would say that, " scoffed Maraquito, her eyes flashing, "but the check to which Hale's name is affixed is not destroyed, andHale shall proceed on that. "

"Hale shall not do so, " said Cuthbert resolutely. He did not wish tobetray Hale's confidence, as a confession would entail the man's lossof the woman he loved. But it was necessary to stop Maraquito somehow;and Cuthbert attempted to do so in his next words, which conveyed adistinct threat. "And you will not move in the matter. "

Maraquito laughed in an evil manner. "Won't I?" she taunted. "I justwill. Hale will do what I want, and he will have Basil arrested unlessyou promise to give up this girl and marry me. "

"Hale will do nothing, neither will you, " retorted Cuthbert. "I don'tcare about threatening a woman, but you must not think that you areable to play fast and loose with me. "

"How can you hurt me?" asked Maraquito with a scornful smile, althoughher lips quivered at his tone. 

"I can tell Jennings that you are Bathsheba Saul!"

She turned quite pale. "I? My name is Maraquito Gredos. "

"It is nothing of the sort. My uncle Lord Caranby came here andrecognized you from your likeness to the woman Emilia he was onceengaged to. He can state that in court. "

"Where is his proof?"

"Proof will be forthcoming when necessary. "

"Not to prove that I am Bathsheba Saul. I know nothing of the name. "

Cuthbert shrugged his shoulders. He had said what was necessary and, unwilling to speak further, prepared to go. Maraquito saw him slippingfrom her grasp. Once gone, she knew he would never come back. With acry of despair she stretched out her hands. "Cuthbert, do not leaveme!" she cried in anguish. 

"I must leave you. I was foolish to come. But you know now, that ifyou move in this matter I can move too. I doubt very much, madam, ifyour past life will bear looking into. "

"You coward!" she moaned. 

"I know I am a coward, " said Mallow uncomfortably; "it is not my way tothreaten a woman--I said that before. But I love Juliet so much thatat any cost I must protect her. "

"And my love counts for nothing. "

"I am sorry, Maraquito, but I cannot respond. A man's heart is not hisown to give. "

"Nor a woman's, " she moaned bitterly; "oh, heaven, how I suffer. Help!"

Cuthbert heard footsteps ascending the stairs--the light footsteps of ahasty man. But Maraquito's head had fallen back, her face was as whiteas snow and her mouth was twisted in an expression of anguish. Sheseemed to be on the point of death, and moved by her pain--for shereally appeared to be suffering, he sprang forward to catch her in hisarms. Had he not done so she would have fallen from the sofa. Buthardly had he seized her form when she flung her arms round his neckand pressed her mouth to his. Then she threw back her head, not nowwhite, but flushed with color and triumph. "I have you now, " she saidbreathlessly. "I love you--I love you--I will not let you go!"

What Cuthbert would have done it is hard to say. Apparently Maraquitowas determined to hold him there. But at this moment Jennings appearedat the door. On seeing him arrive so unexpectedly, Maraquito uttered acry of rage and dismay, and released Mallow. "Send him away--send himaway!" she cried, pointing to Jennings, who looked cold and stern. "How dare he come here. "

"I come on an unpleasant errand, " said Jennings, stepping forward. "Iwant you, Mallow!"

Cuthbert, who had moved forward, stopped. "Why do you want me?"

Jennings placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "I arrest you onthe charge of murdering Selina Loach!"

Maraquito uttered a shriek, and Cuthbert's face grew red. The latterspoke first. "Is this a jest?" he asked harshly. 

"You will not find it so. "

"Let me pass. I refuse to allow you to arrest me. "

Jennings still continued to keep his hand on Cuthbert's shoulder, whereupon the young man flung it aside. At the same moment Jenningsclosed with him, and a hand-to-hand struggle ensued. Maraquito, withstraining eyes, watched the fight. With stiffened muscles the tworeeled across the room. Cuthbert was almost too amazed to fight. ThatJennings should accuse him and attack him in this way was incredible. But his blood was up and he wrestled with the detective vigorously. Hewas an excellent athlete, but Jennings was a west-country-man and knewall that was to be known about wrestling. With a quick twist of hisfoot he tripped up his opponent, and in a minute Cuthbert was lying onhis back with Jennings over him. The two men breathed hard. Cuthbertstruggled to rise, but Jennings held him down until he was suddenlydragged away by Maraquito, who was watching the fight eagerly. Thereshe stood in the centre of the room which she had reached with a bound. 

"I thought so, " said Jennings, releasing Mallow and rising quickly. 

Maraquito threw a small knife at Cuthbert's feet. "Kill him--killhim!" she said with hysterical force. 

"There is no need to, " said the detective, feeling his arms, which wererather sore. "Mallow, I beg your pardon for having fought you, but Iknew you would not lend yourself to a deception, and the only way inwhich I could force this lady to show that she was able to walk was bya feigned fight. "

"Then you don't intend to arrest me?" said Mallow, rising and staring. 

"Never had any idea of doing so, " rejoined Jennings coolly. "I wishedto learn the truth about Mrs. Herne. "

"Mrs. Herne!"

"Or Maraquito Gredos or Bathsheba Saul. She has a variety of names, mydear fellow. Which one do you prefer?" he asked, turning to thediscovered woman. 

Maraquito looked like the goddess of war. Her eyes flashed and herface was red with anger. Standing in a striking attitude, with onefoot thrust forward, her active brain was searching for some means ofescape. "I don't know what you mean by calling me these names!"

"I mean that you are to be arrested. You are Mrs. Herne. Your accidentwas merely a sham to avert suspicion. "

"Mrs. Herne is my aunt. "

"Pardon me, no. The only aunt you ever had was Emilia Saul, who diedin Caranby's house. In our interview at Hampstead you betrayedyourself when we talked of Mallow. I had you watched. You were seento enter this house, and out of it Mrs. Herne never came. Yourservants do not know Mrs. Herne--only their invalid mistress. "

Maraquito, seeing her danger, panted with rage, and looked like atrapped animal. "Even if this is true, which I deny, " she said in avoice tremulous with rage, "how dare you arrest me, and for what?"

"For setting that boy Gibber to poison the man who called himself Tyke. The lad has left your service--which means he is in hiding. "

"I know nothing about this, " said Maraquito, suddenly becoming cool. "Do you mean to arrest me now?"

"I have the warrant and a couple of plain-dress detectives below. Youcan't escape. "

"I have no wish to escape, " she retorted, moving towards a door whichled into an inner room. "I can meet and dispose of this ridiculouscharge. The doctor told me that a sudden shock might bring back mystrength. And that it has done. I am not Mrs. Herne--I am notBathsheba Saul. I am Maraquito Gredos, a Spanish lady--"

"Who doesn't know her own language, " said Jennings. 

"I pass over your insults, " said the woman with dignity. "But as youintend to take me away, will you please let me enter my bedroom tochange my dress?"

Jennings drew aside and permitted her to pass. "I am not afraid youwill escape, " he said politely. "If you attempt to leave you will fallinto the hands of my men. They watch every door. "

Maraquito winced, and with a last look at the astounded Mallow, passedinto the room. When she shut the door Mallow looked at Jennings. "Idon't know what all this means, " he said. 

"I have told you, " replied Jennings, rather impatiently, "the letter Isent you was to bring you here. The struggle was a feigned one on myside to make Maraquito defend you. I knew she would never let you beworsted if she could help; exactly as I knew you would never consent toplay such a trick on her. "

"Certainly not. With all her faults, she loves me. "

"So well that she will kill Juliet Saxon rather than see her in yourarms. Don't frown, Mallow, Maraquito is a dangerous woman, and it istime she was laid by the heels. You don't know what I have found out. "

"Have you learned who killed Miss Loach?"

"No. But I am on the way to learn it. I'll tell you everythinganother time. Meanwhile, I must get this woman safely locked up. Confound her, she is a long time. "

"She may have escaped, " said Mallow, as Jennings knocked at the door. 

"I don't see how she can. There are men at the front door and at asecret entrance she used to enter as Mrs. Herne. " He knocked again, but there was no reply. Finally Jennings grew exasperated and tried toopen the door. It was locked. "I believe she is escaping, " he said, "help me, Mallow. "

The two men put their shoulders to the door and burst it in. When theyentered the bedroom it was empty. There was no sign of Maraquitoanywhere, and no sign, either, of how she had managed to evade the law. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE SECRET ENTRANCE

AS may be guessed, Jennings was very vexed that Maraquito had escaped. He had posted his men at the front and back doors and also at the sideentrance through which Senora Gredos in her disguise as Mrs. Herne hadentered. He never considered for the moment that so clever a womanmight have some way of escape other than he had guessed. "Yet I mighthave thought it, " he said, when Cuthbert and he left the house. "Iexpect that place is like a rabbit-burrow. Maraquito always expectedto be taken some day in spite of her clever assumption of helplessness. That was a smart dodge. "

"How did you learn that she was shamming?"

"I only guessed so. I had no proof. But when I interviewed the pseudoMrs. Herne at her Hampstead lodgings, she betrayed so much emotion whenspeaking of you that I guessed it was the woman herself. I only triedthat experiment to see if she was really ill. If she had not moved Ishould have been done. "

"It seems to me that you are done now, " said Cuthbert angrily. He wasnot very pleased at the use Jennings had made of him. 

"By no means. Maraquito will take refuge in a place I know of. Shedoes not fancy I am aware of its existence. But I am on my way therenow. You can come also if you like. "

"No, " said Mallow decisively, "so far as I am concerned, I have nofurther interest in these matters. I told you so the other day. "

"Don't you wish to know who killed Miss Loach?"

Mallow hesitated, and wondered how much the detective knew. "Have youany clue to the assassin?" he asked. 

Jennings shrugged his shoulders. "I can't say that. But I suspect thecoiners have something to do with the matter. "

"The coiners?"

"Ah! I know you have not learned much about them. I have no time nowto talk, but you will see everything in the papers shortly. I can tellyou, Mallow, there's going to be a row. "

Mallow, like all young Englishmen, was fond of fighting, and his bloodwas at once afire to join in, but, on second thoughts, he resolved tostick to his original determination and stay away. It would be better, he thought, to let Jennings carry out his plans unhampered. In order, therefore, to preserve Basil's secret, Mallow nodded to the detectiveand went home. That night he spent wondering what had become ofMaraquito. 

Meantime, Jennings, with a dozen men, was on his way to Rexton. It wasnow after eleven, and the clock struck the half hour as they landed atRexton Station. The police force of the suburb had been notified ofthe raid about to be made, and Inspector Twining was on the spot. Heguided the party through the side path which terminated near RoseCottage. The night was dark and rainy, but there were occasionalgleams of moonlight. There was no light in the windows of RoseCottage, and everything appeared to be quiet. Behind loomed the ruinsof the unfinished house beneath which was the coining factory. 

On the way to the spot Jennings conversed with Twining in low tones anddetailed his experience with Maraquito. 

"I am quite sure that she has gone to the factory, " he said; "she doesnot think that I know about it. I fancy she will tell her pals thatthe game is up and the lot will light out for America. "

"They may have gone by this time, " suggested the inspector. 

"I don't think so. Maraquito must have just arrived, if indeed she hascome here. Besides, she will never guess that I know how to get intothe place, or indeed think that I know of its existence. "

"How did you guess?"

"Guess is a good word. I just did guess, Twining. From various factswhich there is no time to tell you, I became convinced that there was afactory in existence. Also I fancied that the death of that old ladywas connected with the preservation of the secret. But I only got atthe hard facts the other day, when a girl called Grant--"

"I remember. She gave evidence at the inquest. "

"Precisely. Well, she brought me some plans belonging to her fatherwhich she found. He was engaged in a quiet job hereabouts five yearsago, and died when it was finished. He was poisoned with arsenic. "

"What! like that man Tyke?"

"Yes. The person who runs this show--Maraquito, I think--evidently hasa partiality for that extremely painful poison. Well, this workmanhaving constructed the secret entrance, was got out of the way bydeath, so that the secret might be preserved. And I guess Miss Loachwas settled also in case she might give the alarm. "

"But if the secret entrance is in the cottage, " said Twining, "this oldwoman may have been aware of its existence. "

"Certainly, and was about to split when she was killed. At least, thatis my theory. "

"She must have been in with the gang. "

"I have never been able to fix that, " said Jennings thoughtfully. "Iknow she was a lady and of good birth. Also she had money, althoughshe condemned herself to this existence as a hermit. Why she shouldlet Maraquito and her lot construct a secret entrance I can'tunderstand. However, we'll know the truth to-night. But you can nowguess, Twining, how the bell came to be sounded. "

"No, I can't, " said the inspector, promptly. 

"I forgot. You don't know that the secret entrance is in the roomwhere Miss Loach was murdered. Well, one of the gang, after the death, sounded the bell to call attention to the corpse, and then slipped awaybefore Susan Grant could get to the room. "

"But why should this person have sounded the bell?"

"That is what I have to find out. There's a lot to learn here. "

"Have you any idea who killed Miss Loach?"

"Maraquito, under the disguise of Mrs. Herne. "

"Was she Mrs. Herne?"

"Yes. She masqueraded as an invalid who could not leave her couch, butI managed to get at the truth to-night. "

"But from the evidence at the inquest, Mrs. Herne was out of the housewhen the blow was struck. "

"Quite so: But we did not know of this secret entrance then. I fancyshe came back--"

"But how can you--"

"There's no more time to talk, " interrupted Jennings. "We must get towork as soon as possible. Order your men to surround the house. "

"And the park also?"

"We have not enough men for that. And I don't think there's any otherexit from the factory save that through Rose Cottage. If there was, Maraquito and her two friends would not have played whist sopersistently with Miss Loach every night. "

"It was three times a week, I think. "

"Well, it doesn't matter. Here we are. " Jennings opened the gardengate and walked boldly up the path towards the silent house. The men, under the low-spoken directions of Twining, spread themselves round thehouse so as to arrest any coiner who might attempt escape. Then thedetective rang the bell. There was no answer for a few minutes. Herang again. 

A window in the cottage was opened cautiously, and the head of Mrs. Pill, in a frilled nightcap of gigantic size, was thrust out. "Is thatyou, Thomas, coming home at this late hour the worse for drink, youidle wretch, and me almost dead with want of sleep. "

"It's a message from your husband, Mrs. Barnes, " said Jennings, signingto Twining to keep out of sight. "Come and open the door, and I'lltell you what has happened. "

"Oh, lor! is Thomas gone the way of flesh?" wailed Mrs. Barnes, formerly Pill. "Come to the cottage door. "

"No. Open this one, " said Jennings, who had his own reasons for thisparticular entrance being made use of. "You know me--"

"Mr. Jennings, as was in the case of my pore, dear, dead lady. Ofcourse I knows you, sir, and the fact as you are police makes meshudder to think as Thomas is jailed for drink. Wait one moment, sir. I'll hurry on a petticoat and shawl. How good of you to come, sir. "

When the window shut down, Jennings bent towards the inspector, who wascrouching on the other side of the steps. "This woman is innocent, " hewhispered. "She knows nothing, else she would not admit us so quickly. "

"It may be a blind, Jennings. She may have gone to give the gangwarning, you know. "

"I don't know, " retorted the detective sharply. "I am quite sure thatMrs. Barnes doesn't even know her husband Thomas is one of the lot. Idon't care if she does give warning either, if your surmise is correct. All our men are round the house, and if any of the gang escape we cancollar them. "

"That is supposing there isn't another exit from the unfinished house, "muttered Twining, anxious to have the last word. 

Mrs. Barnes appeared at the door in a brilliant red petticoat, a whitewoollen shawl, and the cap aforesaid. Her feet were thrust into carpetslippers and she carried a candle. "An' it is good of you, sir, tocome 'ere and tell me that Thomas is in jail, he being-"

"We can talk of that inside, " said the detective, pushing past her. "Isuppose you don't mind my friend coming in. "

Mrs. Barnes almost dropped when she saw the second person, especiallywhen she noted the uniform. "It must be murder at least, " she wailed, almost dropping the candle in her fright; "lor! do tell me, sir, thatThomas have not murdered anyone. "

"Lead us down to the sitting-room and we'll tell you, Mrs. Barnes. "

"I can't do that, sir, Mr. Clancy may be 'ome any moment"

"Isn't he at home now?"

"Bless you, no, Mr. Jennings, he being fond of goin' out, not that he'san old man, and why shouldn't he enjoy hisself. Not that a woman couldwish for a better lodger, though he only bin 'ere a week or so, hegivin' no trouble and havin' a latch-key. "

"I want to see Mr. Clancy also, " said Jennings impatiently, whileTwining turned on the electric light in the hall. "Take us down to thebasement. "

The woman would have objected again, but from the stern expression onher visitors' faces she judged that it would be wiser to obey. Shedescended, candle in hand, turning on the lights as she went down. Inthe sitting-room she paused and faced the detective. "Do tell mewhat's wrong, sir?" she asked. "Thomas is a fool, but we're newly wedand I shouldn't like anything to 'appen to 'im, though he do takefondly-like to the bottle. "

"When did Thomas go out?"

"At eight, and Mr. Clancy at nine, though Mr. Clancy havin' alatch-key, don't give me trouble lettin' him in which Thomas does. "

"Ah!" said Jennings, with a side-glance at the inspector, "so yourhusband goes out often?"

"He do, sir. Three times a week. I 'ave tried to break 'im of theselarky 'abits but he won't do what I arsks him. I wish I'd stopped atbein' Pill, " wailed Mrs. Barnes, wiping her eyes. "An' if Thomas isdrunk and bail bein' required--"

"I don't know if your husband is drunk or sober, " interrupted Jennings. "We are on a different errand. Tell me, Mrs. Barnes, do you know ifMiss Loach had a secret entrance to this room?"

"Lor no, sir, " cried the woman, casting a surprised glance round, "whatever would she 'ave that for, pore dear?"

"The furniture is oddly placed, " said Twining. 

And indeed it was. Tables and chairs and sofa were ranged in two lineson either side of the room, leaving the middle portion bare. The floorwas covered with a Turkey carpet down the centre, but the sides of thefloor were without covering. Mrs. Barnes explained this. 

"Miss Loach liked to 'ave things straight this way for the night, bein'of tidy 'abits. She thought the floor bein' clear left the 'ousemaid, who was Geraldine, room to sweep and dust thoroughly. Mr. Clancy 'avethe same fancy, though being a man as tidy as ever was. "

"Strange Mr. Clancy should be tidy, " said Jennings drily. "Hecertainly is not so in his dress. Now the best thing you can do, Mrs. Barnes, is to go to bed. "

"An' leave you 'ere, " screeched the cook indignantly. "Why, whateverwould Mr. Clancy say, he being respectable. "

"Very good then, you can stop here. Stand on one side, Twining, andyou, Mrs. Barnes. Both of you stand on the bare floor near the wall. "

Considerably surprised, Mrs. Barnes did as she was told, and uttered acry when she saw the floor begin to move. Jennings, who was pressing abutton at the end of the room, stopped. "Take her upstairs, Twining. She will alarm the gang!"

"Alarm who?" cried the cook, struggling with the inspector. "Whateverdo you mean? Shame--shame to 'old a defenceless lady. 'Elp!"

But her cries for help were unheeded. Twining bore her up the stairsand summoned one of his men. In a few minutes Mrs. Barnes was safelylocked up in her own bedroom in the cottage, a prey to terrors. Poorwoman, being innocent, she could not understand the meaning of thismidnight visit, nor indeed the mysterious moving of the floor. It hadnever happened so before within her recollection. 

Twining came down with six men, leaving the others to guard the exitsfrom the house and garden. At the door of the sitting-room he stoppedat the head of those he was bringing. At his feet yawned a gulf inwhich steps appeared. The whole of the centre of the floor haddisappeared into the wall opposite to the fireplace, and the roughsteps led down into a kind of passage that ran in the direction of theunfinished house. "This is the entrance, " said Jennings, "it worksfrom a concealed button on the wall. Electricity is used. You see whythe sides of the floor are left bare; the carpet has quite disappeared. But we have no time to lose, " he jumped down lightly. "Come along men, hurry up. "

"As we will be at a disadvantage, we may as well get our barkers out, "said the inspector, and the men produced revolvers. Then they wentinto the burrow at the tail of the intrepid Jennings. 

That gentleman stole along the narrow passage: It ran straightly for afew yards and then took a turn to the right. The ground continued toslope for some distance until it terminated in a heavy door of wood. Jennings fancied this might be locked, and felt a pang ofdisappointment. But it proved to be merely closed to. Apparently thecoiners were so sure of their safety that they did not trouble to keepthe door locked. The detective opened it gently, and with the menclose at his heels stole forward. He held his revolver lightly in hisright hand, ready for emergencies. The passage was quite dark, butbeing narrow, the men had no hesitation in going forward. Some waydown, after leaving the door, the passage branched into two ways, forJennings came against a wall directly ahead. Wondering what thismeant, he struck a match, and the blue light revealed one passagerunning down to the left and another opening up to the right. Whilethe detective hesitated which to take, the darkness was suddenlyilluminated with the glare of lamps. From a dozen electric lights atthe sides of the passage sprang a white glow. At the further end ofthe sloping passage appeared the figure of a man. He gave a shout whenthe figures of the police were revealed in the sudden illumination andvanished suddenly. There was not a moment to be lost. Jennings, cryingto his men, dashed ahead. As he neared the end of the burrow, for itwas nothing else, a pistol shot rang out and he felt as though hisshoulder had been pierced with a red-hot iron. But the wound did notstop him. 

"Quick, men--quick! Some stop and guard the double way. They will tryand escape that way. "

His orders were obeyed with precision, and two men stopped behind, while the rest, with Twining at their head, pressed forward. They ranagainst another door, but it also was open, as the watching man had nothad time to close it. Through this the police poured, and foundthemselves in a large, dry cellar, brilliantly lighted. On every handwere the evidences of the pursuits of the gang. But no one had time totake in details. The startled and infuriated coiners were fighting fortheir liberty. In a moment the lights were out, but not beforeJennings saw Clancy and Hale at the far end of the cellar, with whitefaces and levelled revolvers. There were other men also. Shots rangout, but in the darkness everyone fired at random. The coiners stroveto force their way to the door, evidently anxious to gain the forkedpassage, so that they could escape by one of the two exits. Twininguncovered his lantern and flashed the light round. It converted himinto a target and he fell, shot through the heart by Hale. The othermen made a dash for liberty, but the police also producing theirlights, managed to seize them. At last Hale, apparently seeing therewas no chance of escaping in the gloom, turned on the electric lightsagain, and the illumination revealed a cellar filled with strugglingmen. Jennings made for Clancy, as it struck him that this man, in spiteof the foolish look on his face, was the prime agent. Clancy fired andmissed. Then he strove to close with Jennings. The latter hammeredhim over the head with the butt of his revolver. Shouts and oaths camefrom the infuriated thieves, but the police fought like bulldogs, withtenacious courage, silent and grim. 

"Hold them--hold them!" cried Jennings, as he went down. 

"I'll do for you this time, " said Hale between his teeth, and flunghimself forward, but Jennings struggled valiantly. The coiner was overhim, and trying to get at his revolver which had fallen in the fight. Jennings waited till he stretched, then fired upward. Hale gave a yellof agony, and throwing up his arms, fell on one side. Wounded, and ingreat pain, Jennings rose. He had just time to see Clancy in the gripof two policemen, fighting desperately, when his senses left him and hefainted. The shouts and oaths and shots rang out wildly and confusedlyas he lost consciousness. 

CHAPTER XXIII

A SCAMP'S HISTORY

When Jennings came to himself he was lying on a sofa in the dining-roomon the ground-floor of the villa. His shoulder hurt him a trifle, butotherwise he felt well, though slightly weak. The doctor was at hisside. It was the same man who had attended to the body of the lateoccupant of the house. 

"Are you feeling better?" said Doctor Slane, when he saw the eyes ofthe detective open. "You had better remain here for a time. Your menhave secured the rascals--all five of them. "

"And Twining?" asked Jennings, trying to sit up. 

"He is dead--shot through the heart. Clancy killed him. "

"Then he'll swing for it, " said Jennings in a stronger tone, "we lose agood man in poor Twining. And Hale?"

"You have wounded him severely in the lungs. I fear he will die. Wehave put him in Mrs. Barnes' room on her bed. The poor woman is wildwith grief and terror. I suppose you know her husband was amongstthose rascals. "

"I thought as much. His going out was merely a blind. But I must getup and look at the factory. Send Atkins to me. "

Atkins was the man next in command now that the inspector was dead. 

The doctor tried to keep Jennings on his back, but the detective wouldnot listen. "There is much to do, " he said, rising unsteadily. "Youhave bound up my shoulder. I won't lose any more blood. "

"You have lost a good deal already. "

"It's my business. We detectives have our battles to fight as well assoldiers have theirs. Give me some brandy and send Atkins. "

Seeing that the man was resolved, Slane gave him the drink and wentout. In a few minutes Atkins entered and saluted. Jennings, afterdrinking the fiery spirit, felt much better, and was fairly steady onhis legs. "Did you see any women amongst the men we took?" he asked. 

"No, sir, " replied the other, "there were five men. Two arewounded--one slightly, and the other--Hale--severely. He wants to makea confession to you, and I have sent to the office for a clerk to takedown his words. Dr. Slane says he will not live till morning. "

"He will cheat the law, I suppose, " said Jennings, "give me your arm, Atkins. I want to visit the factory. "

"Are you strong enough, sir?"

"Quite strong enough. Don't bother, " replied the other as a twinge ofpain made him wince. "We've made a good haul this time. "

"You'll say that, sir, when you see the factory. It is the mostcomplete thing of its kind. "

"Tell the clerk when he arrives not to take down Hale's confession tillI arrive. I won't be more than a quarter of an hour. Give me your armwhen you return. "

Atkins departed on his errand, and Jennings sat down, wondering whathad become of Maraquito. He made sure she would go to the factory, asbeing a place of refuge which the police would find hard to discover. But, apparently, she had taken earth in some other crib belonging tothe gang. However, he would have all the ports watched, and she wouldfind it hard to escape abroad. Maraquito was so striking a woman thatit was no easy matter for her to disguise herself. And Jennings sworethat he would capture her, for he truly believed that she had killedMiss Loach, and was the prime mover in the whole business. Hithertoshe had baffled him by her dexterity, but when they next met he hopedto get the upper hand. 

His underling returned and, resting on his arm, Jennings with somedifficulty managed to get down the stairs. The whole house now blazedwith light. Formerly the detective had wondered why Miss Loach hadbeen so fond of electric lamps, thinking that as an old lady she wouldhave preferred a softer glow. But now he knew that she required theelectricity for the illumination of the factory, and for manipulatingthe metals required in the manufacture of coins. There was no doubtthat she was one of the gang also, but Jennings could not conceive whyshe should take to such a business. However, the woman was dead andthe gang captured, so the detective moved along the narrow passage witha sense of triumph. He never thought that he would be so lucky as tomake this discovery, and he knew well that such a triumph meant praiseand reward. "I'll be able to marry Peggy now, " he thought. 

The coiners had been removed to the Rexton cells, and only Haleremained under the charge of Mrs. Barnes and Dr. Slane. The body ofTwining lay in the dining-room of the villa. A policeman was on guardat the door of the villa, and two remained at the forked passage. WhenJennings arrived here he felt inclined to turn off to the right andexplore the other passage, but he was also anxious to see the factoryand assure himself of the value of his discovery. He thereforepainfully hobbled along, clinging to Atkins, but sustained in hisefforts by an indomitable spirit. 

"Here you are, sir, " said Atkins, turning on the light and revealingthe workshop. "A fine plant, isn't it?"

"It is, indeed, " said Jennings, glancing up to the rough roof wherefive or six lamps blazed like suns, "and a nice hiding-place theyfound. I'll sit here and look round, Atkins. "

He dropped into a chair near the bench and stared at the cellar. Itwas large, and built of rough stones, so that it looked like a prisoncell of the Bastille. The floor was of beaten earth, the roof ofbrick, built in the form of an arch, and the door was of heavy woodclamped with iron. The brilliant illumination enabled Jennings to seeeverything, even to the minutest detail of the place. 

In one corner were three large dynamos, and in another a smelting pot, and many sheets of silver and copper. Also, there were moulds ofgutta-percha arranged to hold coins in immersion. On a bench were anumber of delicate tools and a strong vice. Jennings also saw variousappliances for making coins. On rough deal shelves ranged round thewalls stood flasks and jars containing powders, with tools and a greatmany chemicals. Also there were piles of false money, gold and silverand copper, and devices for sweating sovereigns. In a safe were lumpsof gold and silver. Beside it, a bath filled with some particularliquid used in the trade. Electric cells, acids, wooden clips to holdthe coins could also be seen. In fact the whole factory was conductedon the most scientific principles, and Jennings could understand how somany cleverly-prepared coins came to be in circulation. There were evenmoulds for the manufacture of francs and louis. 

"I daresay the gang have other places, " he said to Atkins, "but this istheir headquarters, I fancy. If I can only get some of them to tellthe truth we might find the other places. "

"Hale wants to confess. "

"Yes. But I fancy it is about the murder of Miss Loach. She wasapparently killed to ensure the safety of this den. We must root thecoiners out, Atkins. Maraquito, who is the head of the business, is atlarge, and unless we can take her, she will continue to make falsemoney in some other place. However, I have seen enough for the timebeing. Keep guard over this place till we hear from the Yard tomorrow. "

"You'll go home and lie down, sir. "

"No. I intend to hear Hale's confession. By to-morrow it will be toolate. I wouldn't miss hearing what he has to say for anything. "

"But can you keep up, sir?"

"Yes, yes--don't bother, " said Jennings, rising, the pain making himtesty, "give me your arm, Atkins. By the way, where does the otherpassage lead to? I have not enough strength to explore. "

"It leads to the top of the ground, sir, and comes out into the trunkof a tree. "

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, it's very clever. There's an old oak near the wall, andthe trunk is hollow. All anyone has to do is to climb up through thetrunk by means of stairs and drop over the wall. The coiners weremaking for that when we captured them. "

"Humph! Have that place watched. Maraquito may come here to-nightafter all. It is now one o'clock. "

"I don't think she'll come, Mr. Jennings. But we have every pointwatched. No one can come or go unless we know. "

"Come along then, " said Jennings, who was growing weak, "let us seeHale. The sooner his confession is written and signed the better. "

Not another word did Jennings say till he got on to the ground floor ofthe villa. But he had been thinking, for when there he turned to theman who supported him. "How is it the oak with the hollow trunk stillstands?" he asked. 

"Oh, it escaped the fire, sir. Some of the boughs were burnt off butthe trunk itself is all right. It is close to the wall too. "

"Humph!" said Jennings, setting his teeth with the pain, "give me a supof brandy out of your flask, Atkins. Now for Hale. "

When he arrived in the bedroom where Hale was lying groaning, Jenningshad the factitious strength of the spirit. A sleepy-eyed clerk wasseated at the table with sheets of paper before him. A lamp was on thetable. Mrs. Barnes was crouching in a chair near the bed. When shesaw Jennings she flung herself down weeping. 

"Oh, sir, I knew no more of this than a babe unborn, " she wailed, "Inever thought my second was a villing. To think that Thomas--"

"That's all right, Mrs. Barnes, I quite acquit you. "

"Not Barnes. Pill I am again, and Mrs. Pill I'll be to the end of mydays. To think Thomas should be a blackguard. Pill drank, I don'tdeny, but he didn't forge and coin, and--"

"Wasn't clever enough, perhaps, " said Hale from the bed in a weakvoice, "oh, there you are, Jennings. Get that fool out of the room andlisten to what I have to tell you. I haven't much time. I am goingfast. "

Jennings induced Mrs. Pill, as she now insisted on being called, toleave the room. Then he sat down on the bed beside the dying man. Atkins remained at the door, and the doctor seated himself by Hale'shead with a glass of brandy. It might be needed for the revival ofHale, who, having lost much blood, was terribly weak. But the poorwretch was bent upon confession, and even told his story with pride. 

"You had a job to take us, Jennings, " he said with a weak chuckle. "Idon't know how you found us out though. "

"It's too long a story to tell. But, first of all, tell me didMaraquito come here to-night?"

"No. Are you after her?"

"Yes, I know she isn't an invalid. "

"Ah, she diddled you there, " said Hale with another chuckle, "a veryclever woman is Maraquito. I wished to marry her, but now I'm donefor. After all, I'm not sorry, since my pals are taken. But I didthink I'd have been able to go to South America and marry Maraquito. I've made plenty of money by this game. Sometimes we sweated fourhundred sovereigns a day. The factory has been here for five years, Jennings--"

"I know. The man Maxwell, who was Susan Grant's father, made thesecret entrance, and you had him killed. "

"No, I didn't. Miss Loach did that. I thought she was a fool at thetime. I told her so. We could have taken Maxwell as a pal. He waswilling to come. But she thought death was best. "

"And Maraquito killed Tyke?"

"No. I did that. I sent Gibber to fix him up. Tyke was a drunkardand made a fool of himself in being arrested. He would have given theshow away, so I sent Gibber with a poisoned bottle of whisky. I knewTyke couldn't resist a drink. He died, and--"

"Did you kill Miss Loach also?" interrupted Jennings, casting a glanceover his shoulder to make sure that the clerk was noting all this. 

Hale laughed weakly. 

"No!" he said. "I fancied you would ask that. I tell you honestlythat none of us know who killed her. "

"That's rubbish. You do know. "

"I swear I don't. Neither does Maraquito. You haven't caught her yetand you never will. I'm not going to split on the pals I have left, Jennings. You have nabbed some, but there are others, and otherfactories also. I won't tell you about those. "

"Clancy is captured--he will. "

"Don't you make any mistake. Clancy is not the fool he looks. He hasthe cleverest head of the lot of us. But I'd better get on with myconfession, though it won't do you much good. "

"So long as you say who killed Miss Loach--"

"Miss Loach, " sneered Hale, "why not Emilia Saul?"

Jennings was almost too surprised to speak. "Do you mean to say--"

"Yes, I do. All the time you and Miss Saxon and that idiot of abrother thought she was Selina Loach. She wasn't, but she was verylike her. Emilia met Selina in the house that is now burnt and pushedher off the plank. The face was disfigured and Selina was buried asEmilia. "

"Then Mrs. Octagon must know--"

"She knows a good deal. You'd better ask her for details. Give me asup of brandy, doctor. Yes, " went on Hale, when he felt better, "Ilaughed in my sleeve when I thought how Emilia tricked you all. Shewas Maraquito's aunt. Her name--"

"Maraquito's name is Bathsheba Saul. "

"Yes. I expect Caranby told you that. He was too clever, that oldman. I was always afraid that he would find out about the factory. Along while ago I wished Maraquito to give up the business and marry me. Then we would have gone to South America and have lived in peace on noend of money. Emilia left six thousand a year, so you may guess thatMaraquito and I made money also. But she was in love with Mallow, andwould not come away. I feared Caranby should take it into his head tosearch the house--"

"Was that why you had it burnt?"

"No. Tyke did that out of revenge, because Maraquito marked him with aknife. Do you think I would have been such a fool as to burn thehouse. Why, Caranby would have probably let out the land, andfoundations would have been dug for new villas, when our plant wouldhave been discovered. "

"Who are you, Hale?"

"Who do you think?" asked the dying man, chuckling. 

"One of the Saul family. You have the same eyebrows as Maraquito. "

"And as Mrs. Herne, who really was Maraquito. "

"Yes, I know that. But who are you?"

"My real name is Daniel Saul. "

"Ah! I thought you were a member of the family. There is a likenessto Maraquito--"

"Nose and eyebrows and Hebrew looks. But I am only a distant cousin. My father married a Christian, but I retain a certain look of hispeople. He died when I was young. Emilia's mother brought me up. Iknew a lot about the coining in those days, and I was always in lovewith Bathsheba, who is my cousin--"

"Bathsheba?"

"You know her best as Maraquito, so by that name I shall speak of her. Jennings, " said Hale, his voice growing weaker, "I have little timeleft, so you had better not interrupt me. " He took another sup ofbrandy and the doctor felt his pulse. Then he began to talk so fastthat the clerk could hardly keep pace with his speech. Evidently hewas afraid lest he should die before his recital ended. 

"When old Mrs. Saul lost Emilia--" he began. 

"But she didn't lose Emilia, " interrupted Jennings. 

"She thought she had. She never knew that Emilia took the name ofSelina Loach. You had better ask Mrs. Octagon for details on thatsubject. Don't interrupt. Well, when Mrs. Saul lost Emilia, she tookmore and more to coining. So did her son, Bathsheba's father. Theywere caught and put in prison. I was taken in hand by a benevolentgentleman who brought me up and gave me the profession of a lawyer. Ichose that because I thought it might be handy. Then Mrs. Saul cameout of prison and her son also. Both died. Maraquito tried variousprofessions and finally went in for dancing. She hurt her foot, andthat attempt to gain a living failed. I was in practice then and westarted the gambling-house together. But by this time I had foundEmilia living here as Selina Loach. Mrs. Octagon can tell you how wemet. Emilia persuaded me and Maraquito to go in for the coining. Shealready had Clancy interested. He was a good man at getting the properring of the coins. Well, we managed to make a tunnel to the cellars ofthe unfinished house, and then Emilia built the extra wing to thevilla. The secret entrances were made by--"

"By Maxwell. I know that. Go on. "

"Well, we started the concern. I haven't time to tell you in detailhow lucky we were. We counterfeited foreign coins also. We all madeplenty of money. Emilia suggested Maraquito feigning to be an invalid, so as to make things safe. False coins were passed at thegambling-house. Maraquito came here as Mrs. Herne and had a house--orrather lodgings--at Hampstead. We came here three times a week, andwhile supposed to be playing whist, we were at the factory. Emiliakept guard. Sometimes we went out by the door of this house and attimes by another way--"

"I know. Up the tree-trunk. "

"Ah, you have found that out, " said Hale in a weak voice; "what a placeit is, " he murmured regretfully, "no one will ever get such another. Ican't understand how you came to find us out. "

"Tell me what happened on that night?" asked Jennings, seeing that theman was growing weaker, and fearful lest he should die without tellingthe secret of the death. 

"On that night, " said the dying scamp, rousing himself; "well, Maraquito quarrelled with Clancy, and went with me to the factory. "

"Then you were not out of the house?"

"No. We went by the underground passage to work. Clancy went away, ashe had business elsewhere. The moment he had gone I came up from thepassage. Emilia was seated with the cards on her lap. She came withme to the factory, and thinking Clancy might come back, she went out bythe tree-trunk way. "

"What, that old lady?"

"She wasn't so very old, and as active as a cat. Besides, she did notwant Clancy to come down, as she was afraid there might be a fightbetween him and Maraquito. They had quarrelled about the division ofsome money, and Maraquito can use a knife on occasions. "

"She did on that night. "

"No. Miss Loach--I mean Emilia--never came back. We became alarmed, as we knew people had been round the house of late--"

"Mr. Mallow--"

"Yes, the fool. We knew he had come prowling after ghosts. But hefound nothing. Well, I--" here Hale's voice died away. The doctorgave him some more brandy and looked significantly at Jennings. 

"Get him to tell all at once, " he whispered, "he's going. "

"Yes, I'm going, " murmured Hale. "I don't mind, though I am sorry toleave Maraquito. Well, " he added, in a stronger voice. "I went out tosee what was up. We found Emilia lying dead near the tree. She hadbeen stabbed to the heart. A bowie knife was near. In great alarm Igot Maraquito to come out, as the body could not be left there. Wedropped it down the tree-trunk and got it into the factory. Then wewondered what was to be done. Maraquito suggested we should take itback to the sitting-room, and then, people being ignorant of thepassage, no one would know how Emilia had met with her death. Ithought there was nothing else to be done. We carried the body throughthe passage and placed it in the chair. I arranged the cards on thelap, knowing the servant had seen Emilia in that position, and that itwould still further throw prying people"--here Hale glanced atJennings--"off the scent. Hardly had we arranged this and closed thefloor, over us when we heard that someone was in the room. It was awoman, and we heard her speaking to the corpse, ignorant that the womanwas dead. Then we heard a suppressed shriek. We guessed it was awoman, at least I did, but Maraquito was quicker and knew more. Shesaid it was Miss Saxon, and at once became anxious to fix the blame onher. But I was afraid lest things should be discovered, so I draggedMaraquito back to the factory. I believe Miss Saxon found the knifeand then ran out, being afraid lest she should be discovered andaccused. This was what Maraquito wanted. She suddenly escaped from meand ran back to the secret entrance. By shifting the floor a littleshe saw into the room. It was then eleven. She saw also that theknife was gone, and it struck her that Miss Saxon could not be far off. "

"She was not, " said Jennings, "she was hidden in the field of corn. "

"Ah. I thought so. Well, Maraquito fancied that if she was arrestedwith the knife before she could leave the neighborhood she would becharged with the murder. "

"But would Maraquito have let her suffer?" asked Jennings, horrified. 

"Of course she would, " said Hale weakly, "she hated Miss Saxon becauseshe was engaged to Mallow, the fool. To get her caught, Maraquitojumped up into the sitting-room and rang the bell. "

"At eleven o'clock?"

"Yes, I believe--I believe--" Hale's voice was getting weaker andweaker. "She did ring--bell--then closed floor. Servant came--I--I--"he stopped and his head fell back. Suddenly he half rose and lookedwildly into blank space. "Maraquito, " he cried strongly, "the game'sat an end. Fly, my love, fly. We have fought and--and--lost. Maraquito, oh my--" his voice died away. He stretched out his hand, fell back and died with a look of tender love on his pallid face. 

"Poor wretch!" said Slane pityingly, "at least he loved truly. "

CHAPTER XXIV

REVENGE

The capture of the coiners caused an immense sensation, and the paperswere filled with descriptions of the raid. Jennings came in for muchcongratulation, and his feat considerably improved his position withthe authorities. He was confined to his bed for some days by his woundand, meanwhile, events transpired in which he would have beenconsiderably interested had he heard of them. They had to do withMaraquito. 

Since her flight from the Soho house nothing had been heard of her, although every inquiry had been made. Guessing that Jennings knew muchmore than was suspected, she was wise enough not to go to the Rextonfactory, and congratulated herself on her foresight when she read theaccounts of the raid in the papers. But she was furiously angry atlosing all, when on the point of realizing her desires. She had senther money to be banked abroad; she hoped, by means of threats to induceMallow to give up Juliet, and she had trusted to win his love byassiduous attentions. But the trick played by Jennings which revealedher deception, and the raid on the factory and the consequent death ofHale, upset her plans, and caused her to take refuge in hiding. Shedid not fear being arrested, especially as her arch-enemy, thedetective, was confined to bed, so she had time to make her plans. Maraquito particularly wished to revenge herself on Mallow and Juliet. She still loved the young man as much as ever, despite his contemptuousrejection of her suit. But she blamed Juliet Saxon for the hardeningof his heart, and it was on the girl that she determined to revengeherself. At first she intended to call at the "Shrine of the Muses, "but thinking she would meet with opposition from Mrs. Octagon, likelyto prevent the realization of her malignant wishes, she changed hermind. It was no use visiting Mallow, as with him she could do nothing. Therefore she resolved to write to Lord Caranby and arrange a meetingwith Juliet at his rooms in the Avon Hotel. Then, when in the presenceof the girl, she hoped to revenge herself in a way likely to causeMallow exquisite pain. 

Thus it happened that Lord Caranby, who was very ill and confined tohis rooms, received a letter from Maraquito, asking him to invite MissSaxon to a meeting with the writer. "I see that the game is up, " wrotethe artful Maraquito, "and I am willing to put things straight. I knowmuch which will be of service in clearing up matters, as I was apartner with Hale and Clancy in the coining. I do not mind admittingthis, as I am not afraid of the police arresting me. I can look aftermyself, and I am quite sure that you will not betray me when I call atyour rooms. I also have something to tell you about my dead AuntEmilia whom you so deeply loved. Therefore, if you will arrange for meto meet Miss Saxon, and allow me to make a clean breast of it, all willbe well. "

When Caranby received this letter his first idea was to send forMallow. But he reflected that Cuthbert was bitterly angered againstMaraquito, and would probably hand her over to the police. Caranby, from a remembrance of his love for Emilia, did not wish this to happen;therefore, he refrained from letting Mallow learn of Maraquito'sdetermination. He hoped to get the complete truth from her and arrangematters once and for all. Also, there was another reason, and a verystrong one, which prevented the old gentleman from having his nephewpresent at the projected interview. 

Maraquito soon received an answer to her letter. It stated that LordCaranby would be pleased to receive her on Sunday afternoon at threeo'clock, and that Miss Saxon would be present. When Maraquito readthis she smiled an evil smile and went out to make a certain purchasewhich had to do with her visit. Had Lord Caranby known of her wickedintention he would rather have cut off his right arm than havesubjected Juliet to the danger she was about to undergo. But he nevercredited Maraquito with such calculated wickedness. 

On Sunday afternoon the old gentleman was seated near the fire, carefully dressed as usual, but looking very ill. He suffered, as hehad told Jennings, from an incurable complaint, and there was no chanceof his recovering. But he refused to take to his bed, and insisted onkeeping his feet. Cuthbert often came to see him, but on thisparticular afternoon Caranby had manoeuvred him out of the way bysending him to see an old friend with a message about his illness. Cuthbert never suspected what was in the wind or he certainly would nothave gone. Afterwards, he bitterly regretted that he had not toldCaranby of Maraquito's threat against Juliet. Had he done so, Caranbywould never have received her. As it was, the old lord waitedpatiently for the woman who was about to bring disaster in her train. Precisely at three o'clock his servant showed up a lady. "MadameDurand, " he announced, and then retired, leaving his master alone witha bent, crooked old woman who walked with the aid of a cane, and seemedvery ill. 

"I should never have known you, " said Caranby, admiring Maraquito'stalent for disguise. 

"Necessity has made me clever, " she replied in a croaking voice, andglanced at the door. 

Caranby interpreted the look and voice. "You can speak freely, " hesaid ironically, "I have no police concealed hereabouts. "

"And Miss Saxon?" asked Maraquito, speaking in her natural voice. 

"She will be here at half-past three. I wish to have a talk with youfirst, Miss Saul. "

The woman darted a terrible look at her host. In spite of the mask ofage which she had assumed, her eyes filled with youthful vigor and firebetrayed her. They shone brilliantly from her wrinkled face. Her hairwas concealed under a close cap, above which she wore a broad-brimmedhat. This head-dress would have been remarkable a few years back, butnow that ladies are reverting to the fashions of their grandmothers, itpassed unnoticed. With a plain black dress, a black cloak trimmedprofusely with beads, mittened hands and an ebony cane, she lookedquite funereal. To complete the oddity of her dress a black satin bagdangled by ribbons from her left arm. In this she carried herhandkerchief and--something else. As usual, she was perfumed with theHikui scent. Caranby noticed this, and when she did not reply to hisremark, pointed out its danger to her. 

"If you wish to escape the police, you must stop using so unusual aperfume, Miss Saul--"

"Call me Maraquito; I am used to that name, " she said harshly, andseated herself near the fire, shivering to keep up a character of oldage, with slowly circulating blood. 

"Let us say Maraquita, " answered Caranby, smiling, "we may as well begrammatical. But this perfume betrays you. Jennings knows that yourfriends use it as a sign. "

"Quite so, " she answered, "it was clever of Jennings to have guessedits meaning. I invented the idea. But he is ill, and I don't think hehas told anyone else about it. He is fond of keeping his discoveriesto himself. He wants all the glory. "

"Surely he has had enough by this time, Maraquita. But the scent--"

"You are quite right, I shall not use it for the future. But what doyou think of my disguise? Would anyone know me?"

"Certainly not. But I wonder you have the courage to show yourself sodisfigured to the woman who is your rival. "

"Oh, as to that, she is my rival no longer, " said Maraquito, with agesture of disdain, "your nephew is not worthy of me. I surrender himfrom this moment. "

"That is very wise of you. I expect you will go abroad and marry amillionaire. "

"I might. But I have plenty of money of my own. "

"The way in which you made it is not creditable, " said Caranby. 

"Bah!" she sneered. "I did not come here to hear you talk morality, Lord Caranby. You were no saint in your young days. I have heard allabout you. "

"From whom?"

"From my Aunt Emilia. "

"I scarcely think that. You were but a child when she died. "

"She did not die, " said Maraquito coldly. "I have come to tell youthat she lived as Miss Loach at Rose Cottage. "

Caranby started to his feet. "What is this you tell me?"

"The truth. Emilia is dead now, but she lived alone for many a longday. I knew that Selina Loach was my aunt, and, " Maraquito looked athim with piercing eyes, "Mrs. Octagon knew also. "

By this time Caranby had recovered from his emotion. "There is nothingbad I don't expect to hear of Isabella Octagon, " he said, "so this thenwas why she visited you?"

"Yes. I ordered her to come by threatening to reveal what she knew tothe police. I could have done so by an anonymous letter. She came andthen I forced her to promise to stop the marriage. I may as well addthat I wrote insisting on the marriage being stopped as soon as Emiliadied. "

"Ah! And I thought along with Cuthbert that it was hatred of me thatmade Mrs. Octagon--"

"Oh, she hates you sure enough. But are you not astonished by my news?"

"Very much astonished, " responded Caranby thoughtfully, "how came itthat Selina died and Isabella lived?"

"The three met in the unfinished house, " explained Maraquito. "I hadthe story from Emilia myself. There was a quarrel. All three were inlove with you. Selina was standing on a plank at a considerable heightfrom the ground. In a rage Emilia pushed her off. Isabella held hertongue as she hated Selina. "

"But the substitution?"

"Well. In the fall Selina's face was much mutilated. I believe, "added Maraquito, in a coldblooded manner, "that Emilia made itworse"--here Caranby shuddered and Maraquito laughed--"oh, my aunt wasnot a woman to stick at trifles. She insisted on changing dresses withthe dead. It was the workmen's dinner-hour and no one was about. Sheforced Isabella to assist her by threatening to tell the police thatIsabella had murdered her sister. As the sisters were on bad terms, Isabella knew that she might be accused, and so she held her tongue. "

"But she could have accused Emilia. "

"Emilia would have denied the accusation. Moreover, Isabella wasintimidated by the fierce nature of my aunt. "

"A fierce nature, indeed, that would mutilate the dead. But I do notsee how Emilia hoped that the substitution would pass undiscovered bySelina's friends, to say nothing of her father. "

"The idea was that Emilia, as Selina, should go abroad and return toEngland in a few years. Owing to the unexpected death of Mr. Loach, the father, the substitution was easy. You know how Isabella aloneappeared at the inquest, and how Selina--really my aunt--pretended tobe sick. Then the two went abroad and came back; Emilia as Miss Loachwent to Rose Cottage, and Isabella married Mr. Saxon. "

"But why did Emilia take Selina's name and--"

"Because Emilia was in danger of being arrested along with her motherand brother for coining. You could not have saved her. The accident ofSelina's death--"

"The murder of Selina, you mean. "

Maraquito made a gesture of indifference. "Call it what you like. Ithappened opportunely however. It gave Emilia safety, and bythreatening to denounce Isabella, she stopped her from marrying you. "

Caranby looked up. "Ah! Now I see why Isabella left me alone. She madeone attempt, however. "

"And did not succeed in inducing you to marry her. But had shesucceeded, Emilia would have stopped the marriage. Emilia loved you. "

"No, " said Caranby coldly, "she loved my title and my name and wealth. I never loved her nor she me. She exercised a kind of hypnoticinfluence over me, and I dare say I would have married her. But herheart I am sure was always in the coining business. "

"You are quite right, " said Maraquito, looking keenly at him, "though Ican't guess how you came to think so, seeing you thought my aunt dead. Yes, she loved coining. When I grew up she sent for me and for DanielSaul--"

"Who is he? Another of your precious family. "

"A distant cousin. You know him best as Hale the lawyer. "

"Oh, indeed, " said Caranby, considerably surprised, "and what didEmilia do with you two?"

"She got us to help her to coin. We made use of your house. I need nottell you how we dug the tunnel and arranged the factory. Emilia knewthat you would not disturb the house--"

"I was a sentimental fool. If I had been wiser you would not havecarried on your wickedness for so long. "

"Oh, we have other factories, " said Maraquito coolly, "Jennings has notdiscovered everything. But your house was certainly an ideal place. Ican't understand how Jennings learned about the secret--"

"The entrance. He learned that from plans left by Maxwell who designedthe same. Emilia poisoned him. "

"She did--to preserve her secret. Hale and I thought it was unwise; hewould have joined us. But it was all for the best. "

"Apparently you think so, " returned Caranby, looking at her withabhorrence, "seeing you poisoned Tyke in the same way. "

"Hale did that and I agreed. It was necessary, " said the woman coldly, "but you appear to know all about the matter. "

"Jennings has told me everything. Even to the fact, which he learnedfrom Hale that you rang that bell. "

"I did. I knew Juliet Saxon was in the room, and I wished to get herarrested. She left the house and I rang the bell as soon as I couldget away from Hale, who did not wish me to draw attention to themurder. But Juliet was too far away by that time to be caught. "

"Why did you wish to hang the poor girl?"

"Because I loved Cuthbert. I would have hanged her with pleasure, "said Maraquito vindictively. "I hate her!"

"Then why do you wish to see her to-day?"

"To tell her that I give up your nephew. "

"That is not in accordance with the sentiments you expressed now. "

Maraquito made a gesture of indifference and made no reply. Caranby nowbegan to suspect that she intended harm to Juliet, and wondered if shehad any weapon about her. That dangling bag could easily carry a stoutknife or a neat little revolver. And Maraquito, as was evident fromthe deaths of Maxwell and Tyke, had no idea of the sacredness of life. Caranby wished he had kept Cuthbert at hand to avert any catastrophe. He was about to ring and order his servant not to bring Miss Saxon intothe room when Maraquito roused herself from her reverie. 

"Do you wish to know anything further?" she asked. 

"No. I think you have told me everything. "

She smiled scornfully. "I have told you very little. But for the restof the information you must apply to Mrs. Octagon. "

"Ah! Supposing I wish to learn who killed Emilia?"

"Mrs. Octagon can tell you!" said the woman significantly. 

"Do you mean to say--"

"I say nothing. Emilia came to the factory and went out into the openair by another exit to see if anyone was about. She never returned andHale and I went in search of her. We found her dead, and--"

"I know all this. Hale confessed it. But he does not know who killedher. Do you?"

"I can't say for certain. But I suspect Mrs. Octagon stabbed her. "

"But how could Mrs. Octagon get the knife?"

"Basil got that from Mallow's room. He gave it to his mother, and--"

"This is all theory, " said Caranby angrily, "you have no grounds. "

"None at all, " replied Maraquito calmly, "but if anyone had a wish tokill my aunt, Mrs. Octagon had. Emilia kept a tight hold over thatwoman, and made her do what she wished. "

"About the marriage?"

"Yes, and other things. I have never been able to understand why AuntEmilia took such a fancy to Cuthbert and that girl. But she certainlywished to see them married. She asked Juliet for a photograph of yournephew, and Juliet gave her one. I took it, and that girl Susan Grantstole it from me. It was strange that the photograph should have goneback to the cottage. Aunt and I quarrelled over the marriage. Sheknew I loved Cuthbert, but she would never help me to marry him. Itwas all Juliet with her--pah! I detest the girl. I could do nothingwhile Emilia lived. She knew too much. But after her death I made Mrs. Octagon stop the marriage. "

"I think Mrs. Octagon will consent now, " said Caranby, calmly. 

"I doubt it. She hates you too much. However, she can, for all Icare, Lord Caranby. I have done with Cuthbert. "

The old man hoped she had done with Juliet also, for he was stilluneasy. The expression of her face was most malignant. More than everpersuaded that she intended harm, Caranby again was about to summon hisservant and forbid the entrance of the expected girl, when suddenly thedoor opened and Juliet; looking bright and happy, entered. She startedback when she saw the supposed old woman, who rose. Caranby jumped offthe sofa with an activity he had not shown for years, and got betweenJuliet and her enemy. Maraquito burst into tears. "Ah, you will behappy with Cuthbert, " she wailed, "while I-" a fresh burst of tearsstopped her speech and she groped in the satin bag for her handkerchief. 

Juliet looked amazed. "Who is this, Lord Caranby?"

"Senora Gredos. "

"Maraquito!" cried Juliet, starting back with an indignant look. "Inever expected to meet that woman--"

"You call me that?" cried Maraquito, flashing, up into a passion. "Iam the woman Cuthbert loves. "

"He does not. He loves me. You, so old and--"

"Old!" shrieked Maraquito, snatching off her hat and cap. "I am youngand much more beautiful than you. Look at my hair. " It came streamingdown in a glorious mass on her shoulders. "My face is as beautiful asyours. I disguised myself to see you. I hate you!--I loathe you! Iforbid you to marry Cuthbert. "

"How dare you--how dare--"

"I dare all things--even this. " Maraquito raised her arm, and in herhand Caranby saw a small bottle she had taken out of the bag. "Whatwill Cuthbert say to your beauty now?"

She flung the bottle straight at Juliet. It would have struck her inthe face, but Caranby, throwing himself between the two, received itfair on his cheek. It smashed, and he uttered a cry. "Vitriol!Vitriol!" he shrieked, his hands to his face, and fell prone on thehearth-rug. His head struck against the bars of the grate, and a spurtof flame caught his hair. Juliet seized him and dragged him away, calling loudly for help. 

"You devil--you devil!" cried Maraquito, striking the girl on the face. "I dare not stay now. But I'll spoil your beauty yet. Wait--wait!"

She hastily put on her hat and ran out of the room. The servant ofLord Caranby burst into the room, followed by some waiters. "Send forthe doctor, " cried Juliet, trying to raise Caranby--"and that woman-"

"She has left the hotel, " said a waiter, but at this moment there was aloud shout in the street, followed by a shriek and a crash. 

CHAPTER XXV

NEMESIS

In the midst of the confusion caused by Maraquito's wickedness Cuthbertarrived. Juliet flew to him at once and flung herself sobbing into hisarms. 

"Oh, Cuthbert--Cuthbert!" she cried, her head on his shoulder, "thatwoman has been here. She tried to throw vitriol at me, and the bottlebroke on Lord Caranby's face. He has burnt his head also; he is dying. "

"Good heavens!" cried Mallow, pressing her to his heart, "thank God youare safe! How did Maraquito come here?"

"I don't know--I don't know, " sobbed Juliet, completely unstrung; "heasked me to see him, and she arrived disguised as an old woman. Oh, where is the doctor!"

"He has just arrived, miss. Here he comes, " said an excited waiter. 

While the doctor examined Caranby's injuries, Cuthbert, very pale, ledJuliet out of the room, and taking her into an adjoining apartment, made her drink a glass of port wine. "An old woman, " he repeated, "itmust have been the disguised Maraquito then who was killed. "

"Killed! She is not killed. She came here and--"

Juliet began to tell the story over again, for she was badlyfrightened. Mallow interrupted her gently. 

"Maraquito is dead, " he said, "she was run over by a motor-car aquarter of an hour ago. "

"Was that her cry we heard?"

"I don't know, " replied Cuthbert gloomily. "I was coming round thecorner of the street and saw a woman flying along the pavement. A carwas tearing towards me. I had just time to see the woman as she passedand note that she was old. She caught a glimpse of my face, and with acry ran into the centre of the street. I never thought she wasMaraquito, and could not understand why she acted as she did. I criedout in alarm, and ran forward to drag her back from before theapproaching motor. But it was too late, the car went over her and sheshrieked when crushed under the wheels. The impediment made the carswerve and it ran into a lamp-post. The occupants were thrown out. Ifancy someone else is hurt also. Maraquito is dead. I heard apoliceman say so. I then saw a waiter gesticulating at the door of thehotel, and fancied something was wrong; I ran along and up the stairs. But I never expected to find you here, Juliet, much less to witness thedeath of that wretched woman. "

"I am sorry, " faltered Juliet, as she sat with his arms round her, "Idon't know why she wanted to throw vitriol at me. She failed to hurtme, and I think she has killed Lord Caranby, and--"

"I must see to my uncle, " said Mallow, rising, "stay here, Juliet. "

"No! no, " she said, clinging to him, "let me go home. Get a cab. Idare not stop. That terrible woman--"

"She will never hurt you again. She is dead. "

"I wish to go home--I wish to go home. "

Mallow saw that the poor girl was quite ill with fright; and smallwonder, considering the catastrophe of the last half hour. To havevitriol thrown is bad enough, but when the act leads to two deaths--forMaraquito was already dead, and it seemed probable that Lord Caranbywould follow--it is enough to shake the nerves of the strongest. Mallow took Juliet down and placed her in a cab. Then he promised tosee her that same evening, and to tell her of Lord Caranby's progress. When the cab drove away he went again upstairs. As he went he couldnot help shuddering at the thought of the danger from which Juliet hadescaped. He remembered how Maraquito had threatened to spoil thebeauty of the girl, but he never thought she would have held to herdevilish purpose. Moreover, he could not understand how Maraquito indisguise came to see Caranby. The disguise itself was an obviousnecessity to escape the police. But why should she have been with hisuncle and why should Juliet have come also? It was to gain an answerto these questions that Cuthbert hurried to the sitting-room. 

Lord Caranby was no longer there. The doctor had ordered him to betaken to his bedroom, and when Mallow went thither he met him at thedoor, "He is still unconscious, " said the doctor, "I must send for hisregular medical attendant, as I was only called in as an emergencyphysician. "

"Is he very ill?"

"I think the shock will kill him. He is extremely weak, and besidesthe shock of the vitriol being thrown, he has sustained severe injuriesabout the head from fire. I don't think he will live. To whom am Ispeaking?" asked the young man. 

"My name is Mallow. I am Lord Caranby's nephew. "

"And the next heir to the title. I fancy you will be called `my lord'before midnight. "

Mallow did not display any pleasure on hearing this. He valued a titlevery little and, so far as money was concerned, had ample for hisneeds. Besides, he was really fond of his uncle who, althoughconsistently eccentric, had always been a kind, good friend. "Will herecover consciousness?"

"I think so, " said the doctor doubtfully, "I am not quite sure. Hisown medical attendant, knowing his constitution and its resistingpower, will be able to speak more assuredly. How did this happen?"

Cuthbert, for obvious reasons, explained as little as he could. "Someold woman came to see my uncle and threw vitriol at Miss Saxon, theyoung lady who was with him. He intercepted the stuff and fell intothe fire. "

"What a demon! I hope she will be caught. "

"She is dead, " and Cuthbert related the accident in the street. Thedoctor had strong nerves, but he shuddered when he heard the dreadfulstory. Nemesis had been less leaden-footed than usual. 

In due time Dr. Yeo, who usually attended Caranby, made his appearanceand stated that his patient would not live many hours. "He was alwaysweak, " said Yeo, "and of late his weakness increased. The two severeshocks he has sustained would almost kill a stronger man, let alone anold man of so delicate an organization. He will die. "

"I hope not, " said Cuthbert, impulsively. 

The physician looked at him benignly. "I differ from you, " hedeclared, "death will come as a happy release to Lord Caranby. Foryears he has been suffering from an incurable complaint which gave himgreat pain. But that he had so much courage, he would have killedhimself. "

"He never complained. "

"A brave man like that never does complain. Besides, he took greatcare of himself. When he came back to London he was fairly well. Ithink he must have done something rash to bring on a recurrence of hisillness. Within a few days of his arrival he grew sick again. In someway he over-exerted himself. "

"I don't think he ever did, " said Mallow, doubtfully. 

"But I am certain of it. Within a week of his arrival here he had arelapse. I taxed him with going out too much and with over-exertion, but he declined to answer me. "

"Will he become conscious again?"

"I think so, in a few hours, but I cannot be sure. However, you neednot be alarmed, Mr. Mallow. His affairs are all right. In view of hisillness I advised him to make his will. He said that he had done so, and that everything was in apple-pie order. "

"It is not that, doctor. I wish to ask him some questions. Will youremain here?"

"Till the end, " replied Yeo, significantly; "but it will not take placefor a few hours, so far as I can see. "

"I wish to go out for an hour. Can I, with safety?"

"Certainly. Lord Caranby will live for some time yet. "

Mallow nodded and left the bedroom, while Yeo returned to the bed uponwhich lay the unconscious form of the old man. Cuthbert took a walk tothe end of the street where the wreckage of the motor car had now beenremoved, and asked the policeman what had become of the victims. Hewas informed that the chauffeur, in a dying condition, had been removedto the Charing Cross Hospital, and that the body of the old woman--sothe constable spoke--had been taken to the police station near at hand. "She's quite dead and very much smashed up, " was the man's report. 

Mallow thanked him with half-a-crown and, having learned thewhereabouts of the police station, he went there. He introducedhimself to the inspector and, as the nephew of Lord Caranby, receivedevery attention, particularly when he described how the vitriol hadbeen thrown. Cuthbert thought it as well to say this, as the waitersat the Avon Hotel would certainly inform the police if he did not. Helooked at the body of the miserable woman in its strange mask of age. "She went to see Lord Caranby in disguise, " said the inspector, "youcan see her face is made up. Does his lordship know who she is?"

"Yes. And Mr. Jennings, the detective, knows also. "

"Perhaps you do yourself, Mr. Mallow?"

Cuthbert nodded. "She is Maraquito, the--"

"What! the gambling-house coiner we have been looking for?"

"The same. Jennings can tell you more about the matter than I can. "

"I'll get Mr. Jennings to come here as soon as he is on his feet, andthat will be to-morrow most probably. But why did Maraquito throwvitriol at Lord Caranby?"

"Jennings can tell you that, " said Mallow, suppressing the fact thatthe vitriol had been meant for Juliet. "Perhaps it had something to dowith the raid made on the unfinished house which, you know, belonged tomy uncle. "

"Bless me, so it did. I expect, enraged by the factory beingdiscovered, Maraquito wished to revenge herself on your uncle. She mayhave thought that he gave information to Jennings about the place. "

"She might have thought so, " said Mallow. "I am returning to the AvonHotel. If you want to see me you can send for me there. But Jenningsknows everything. "

"What about his lordship?"

"He will die, " said Cuthbert abruptly, and departed, leaving theinspector full of regrets that Maraquito had not lived to figure in thepolice court. He looked at the matter purely from a professionalstandpoint, and would have liked the sensation such an affair wouldhave caused. 

When Mallow came back to the hotel he found that his uncle hadrecovered consciousness and was asking for him. Yeo would not allowhis patient to talk much, so Cuthbert sat by the bedside holding thehand of the dying man. Caranby had been badly burnt about the temples, and the sight of one eye was completely gone. Occasionally Yeo gavehim a reviving cordial which made him feel better. Towards eveningCaranby expressed a wish to talk. The doctor would have prevented him, but the dying man disregarded these orders. 

"I must talk, " he whispered faintly. "Cuthbert, get a sheet of paper. "

"But you have made your will, " said Yeo, rebukingly. 

"This is not a will. It is a confession. Cuthbert will write it outand you will witness my signature along with him, Yeo. "

"A confession!" murmured Cuthbert, going out of the room to get pen, ink and paper. "What about?"

He soon knew, for when he was established by the side of the bed withhis writing materials on a small table, Caranby laughed to himselfquietly. "Do you know what I am about to say?" he gasped. 

"No. If it is nothing important you had better not exhaust yourself. "

"It is most important, as you will hear. I know who murdered thesupposed Miss Loach. "

Cuthbert nearly dropped the pen. "Who was it?" he asked, expecting tohear the name of Mrs. Octagon. 

"I did!" said Caranby, quietly. 

"You!--that's impossible. "

"Unfortunately it is true. It was an accident, though. Yeo, give memore drink; I must tell everything. "

Yeo was quite calm. He had known Caranby for many years, and was notat all disposed to shrink from him because he confessed to havingcommitted a murder. He knew that the Earl was a kind-hearted man andhad been shamefully treated by three women. In fact, he was secretlyglad to hear that Emilia Saul had met her death at the hand of a manshe had injured. But he kept these sentiments to himself, and aftergiving his patient a strong tonic to revive his energies, he sat by thebedside with his fingers on the pulse of the dying man. Caranbyrallied considerably, and when he began his recital spoke in strongertones. 

Cuthbert dipped his pen in the ink, but did not dare even to think. Hewas wondering how the death of Emilia had come about, and also how hisuncle had gone to the unfinished house on the same night as he haddone. Remembering how Basil stated he had been chased by someoneunknown, Cuthbert began to fancy he saw light. However, at this momentCaranby began to speak, and as every moment was precious, both menforbore to interrupt him unless desirous to have a clearerunderstanding on certain points. 

"When I came back to England, " said Caranby, "I never thought thatEmilia was alive. Owing to the clever way in which the substitutionwas effected by Isabella, I always thought Selina lived at RoseCottage. Several times I tried to see her, hoping she would marry me. But she always refused. I was puzzled at the time, but now I know thereason. I never thought of looking at the unfinished house. It was apiece of sentimental folly my shutting it up, but afterwards, as timeslipped by, I never troubled about looking into the matter. As Cuthbertwill tell you, Yeo, laziness is a vice with me. "

"Go on with the story and save your strength, " said Yeo softly. 

"Yes. " Caranby heaved a sigh. "I haven't much left. Well, Cuthbert, you told me about the ghosts supposed to be haunting the house. Iasked you to go down and see. You came here one night and left ateight o'clock to go down to Rexton. "

"I never expected you to follow. Why did you not come with me?"

"Because I was keeping something back from you. On the previous day Ireceived a letter. There was no name to it, and the writing wasdisguised. It advised me to see Selina Loach, and said I would besurprised when she spoke to me. "

"Because then you would recognize the woman you believed to be dead. "

"Exactly, " said Caranby faintly, "but at the time I knew nothing, andwas much puzzled with the letter. On that night I intended to tellyou, but I did not. Then I thought I would go down to Rose Cottage andprove the truth of the letter. I went almost immediately after you, Cuthbert. "

"What, in your state of health?"

"Yes. I was stronger then. "

"And have been less strong since, " murmured Yeo. "I understand now whyyou refused to tell me how you had over-exerted yourself. "

"I had my secret to keep, " said Caranby coldly, "some more drink, please. " Then, when he felt better, he continued "Yes! I waswonderfully well and strong on that night. I climbed the wall--"

"Impossible!" said Mallow, "I can't believe that. "

"Nevertheless it is the truth. I expect the excitement made meunnaturally strong. I suffered greatly when it was over. "

"You were a wreck, " said the physician bluntly. 

"When what was over?" asked Mallow, anxiously. 

"The event of the night to which I am coming. It took me some time toget to Rexton, and a long time to walk to the unfinished house. I didnot go down Crooked Lane, but round by the wall. "

"Did you come by, the railway station path?"

"I did not. I took a wide detour and arrived at the unfinished houseon the side opposite to where Rose Cottage stood. "

"Ah!" murmured the young man. "No wonder I missed you. But I thoughtyou were calling on Miss Loach. "

"I intended to, but first I thought I would assure myself about theghosts. Certainly I had set you to perform that task, but, as I was onthe spot, I determined to see for myself. I climbed the wall, notwithout difficulty, and found myself in the park--"

"About what time was this?"

"After ten. I can't say how long. But I really cannot be precise asto the time. I wandered aimlessly about the park, threading my wayamongst the trees and shrubs and undergrowth. I was astonished to findpaths, and it struck me that someone used the park. "

"I believe Miss Loach did--that is, Emilia, " said Cuthbert. "Jenningslearned that in some way. She always was on the watch for anyonecoming into the park and learning the secret of the factory. "

"I did not know that at the time, " said Caranby, his voice growingweaker. "Well, I walked about. Sometimes it was moonlight and atother times the moon would be obscured by clouds. I struggled to getnear the house and succeeded. Then I saw a man standing in the shadow. At once I went up to him--he fled. I don't know who it was?"

"I can tell you, " said Mallow, quietly, "young Saxon. "

"Then why did he fly?"

"He was there with no very good purpose and his conscience smote themiserable creature, " said Cuthbert, "go on--or will you wait?"

"No! no! no!" said Caranby, vehemently; "if I stop now you will neverknow the truth. I don't want anyone else to be accused of the crime. I know Maraquito hinted that Isabella Octagon was guilty, but she isnot. I don't want even Isabella to suffer, though she has been a fatalwoman to me and wrecked my life's happiness. "

His voice was growing so weak that Yeo gave him more cordial. After apause Caranby resumed with a last effort, and very swiftly, as thoughhe thought his strength would fail him before he reached the end of hisdismal story. 

"I followed the man, though I did not know who he was, and wondered whyhe should be trespassing. He fled rapidly and I soon lost him. Butwhen the moonlight was bright I saw that he had dropped a knife fromhis pocket. In stooping to pick it up I lost sight of the man. "

"Basil crossed the park and ran away. But he came back for the knifeafterwards, " explained Mallow. "Juliet saw him. He had on my coat. Iwonder you didn't think Basil was me, as Juliet did. "

"I am not acquainted with your clothes, " said Caranby, dryly, "as Ihave been absent from England for so long. But no wonder Saxon did notfind the knife. I picked it up. It was a bowie--"

"Belonging to me, which Basil had stolen. "

"I didn't know that either. Well, I went again towards the wallsurrounding the park. I thought I might meet you. "

"I wonder you didn't. I was about at that time. "

"The park was so thickly filled with trees and shrubs that we missedone another I suppose. Don't interrupt--I am going. Write quickly, Cuthbert. " Then with a gasp Caranby resumed: "I halted to get breathnear the large oak which the fire spared. I heard a rustling, and awoman came out of the shadow of the tree. I wondered who she was andwhere she had come from. The moon then came out brightly, and Irecognized her face with a sensation almost of terror. It was Emilia. "

"How did you recognize her after all these years?"

"By her Jewish look, and especially by the eyebrows. Moreover, sherevealed herself to me when dying. "

"What happened?" asked Yeo, sharply. 

"I was standing with the knife in my hand. Emilia, seeing that I wasan intruder, came swiftly towards me. She had a revolver in her handbut did not fire. She cried out something and rushed at me. In doingthis she came straight against the knife. I was holding itinstinctively in an attitude of defence, with the point outward. Sherushed at me to bear me down by the weight and force of her charge, andthe next moment she dropped to the ground dying. "

"She was not dead then?"

"No! not for the moment. I knelt beside her and whispered 'Emilia!'She opened her eyes and smiled. Then she replied, 'Emilia--yes!' anddied. I did not know what to do. Then it struck me that I might bearrested for the crime, though it really was no crime. Had she notrushed at me, had I not been holding the knife, she would not have metwith her death. I wonder she did not fire, seeing she had a pistol. "

"Perhaps she recognized you, " said Yeo, glancing at Cuthbert, who waswriting rapidly. 

"No. Had she done so, she would never have attempted to hurt me. Shethought I was some spy searching for the factory, and without givingherself time to think dashed forward, believing I would give way andfly. It was all over in a second. I made up my mind to go at once. Idid not even wait to pick up the knife, but climbed the wall and camehome here. What happened then I don't know. "

"I can tell you, " said Mallow. "Maraquito and Hale came to look forMiss Loach and took her body into the villa sitting-room. They placedthe knife at her feet and the cards in her lap, thinking it would bethought she had been stabbed in the room, and--"

"Sign, sign!" said Caranby, unexpectedly, and Mallow hastily broughthim the written document and the ink. He signed feebly, and the twomen signed as witnesses. Yeo then turned to his patient, but he drewback. Death was stamped on the face. 

Cuthbert called in the servant. "Lord Caranby is dead, " he saidquietly. 

"Yes, my lord, " replied the servant, and Mallow started on hearing thetitle. But he was now Lord Caranby and his uncle was dead. 

CHAPTER XXVI

CUTHBERT'S ENEMY

Before leaving the death-chamber, Mallow--now Lord Caranby--sealed theconfession in the presence of Yeo, and went with him into thesitting-room. "What will you do with that?" asked the doctor, indicating the envelope with a nod. 

"I shall place it in the hand of my lawyers to be put with familypapers, " replied Cuthbert. "I am sure you agree with me, Yeo, that itis unnecessary to make the contents public. My uncle is dead. "

"Even were he still alive, I should advise you to say nothing, " repliedYeo, grimly; "the woman deserved her fate, even though it was anaccident. She destroyed Caranby's life. He would have married SelinaLoach and have been a happy man but for her. "

"There I think you wrong her. It is Isabella Octagon who is to blame. She has indeed been a fatal woman to my poor uncle. But for her, hewould not have been prevented from marrying Selina and thus have falleninto the toils of Emilia. Emilia would not have murdered Selina, andthe result would not have come out after all these years in the deathof my uncle at the hands of Bathsheba Saul. "

"Who is she?"

"Maraquito. But you don't know the whole story, nor do I think thereis any need to repeat the sordid tragedy. I will put this paper awayand say nothing about it to anyone save to Jennings. "

"The detective!" said Yeo, surprised and startled. "Do you think thatis wise? He may make the matter public. "

"No, he won't. He has traced the coiners to their lair, and that isenough glory for him. When he knows the truth he will stop searchingfurther into the case. If I hold my tongue, he may go on, and makeawkward discoveries. "

"Yes, I see it is best you should tell him. But Miss Saxon?"

"She shall never know. Let her think Maraquito killed Emilia. Onlyyou, I and Jennings will know the truth. "

"You can depend upon my silence, " said Yeo, shaking Cuthbert by thehand; "well, and what will you do now?"

"With your permission, I shall ask you to stop here and arrange aboutnecessary matters in connection with the laying-out of the body. Iwish to interview Mrs. Octagon this evening. To-morrow I shall seeabout Caranby's remains being taken down to our family seat in Essex. "

"There will be an inquest first. "

"I don't mind. Maraquito is dead and nothing detrimental to the honorof the Mallows can transpire. You need say nothing at the inquest asto the bottle being thrown at Juliet. "

"I'll do my best. But she will be questioned. "

"I intend to see her this evening myself. "

"What about Mrs. Octagon?"

"Oh, " said the new Lord Caranby with a grim smile, "I intend to settleMrs. Octagon once and for all. "

"Surely you don't intend to tell her of the murder. "

"Certainly not. She would make the matter public at once. But herknowledge of the real name of Emilia, and her hushing up of the murderof her sister, will be quite enough to bring her to her knees. I don'tintend that Juliet shall have anything more to do with her mother. ButI'll say very little. "

After this Cuthbert departed and took a hansom to the "Shrine of theMuses. " He arrived there at ten o'clock, and was informed by thebutler that Miss Saxon was in bed with a headache, and that Mrs. Octagon had given orders that Mr. Mallow was not to be admitted. Basilwas out, and Mr. Octagon likewise. Cuthbert listened quietly, and thengave the man, whom he knew well, half a sovereign. "Tell Mrs. Octagonthat Lord Caranby wishes to see her. "

"Yes, sir, but I don't--"

"I am Lord Caranby. My uncle died this evening. "

The butler opened his eyes. "Yes, m'lord, " he said promptly, andadmitted Cuthbert into the hall. "I suppose I needn't say it is reallyyou, m'lord, " he remarked, when the visitor was seated in thedrawing-room, "I am afraid the mistress will be angry. "

"Don't trouble about that, Somes. Tell her Lord Caranby is here, " andthe butler, bursting to tell the news in the servants' hall, went awayin a great hurry. 

Cuthbert remained seated near the table on which stood an electriclamp. He had the confession in his pocket, and smiled to think howglad Mrs. Octagon would be to read it. However, he had quite enoughevidence to force her into decent behavior. He did not intend to leavethat room till he had Mrs. Octagon's free consent to the marriage and apromise that she would go abroad for an indefinite period with herhopeful son, Basil. In this way Cuthbert hoped to get rid of theseundesirable relatives and to start his married life in peace. "Nothingless than exile will settle matters, " he muttered. 

Mrs. Octagon, in a gorgeous tea-gown, swept into the room with a frownon her strongly-marked face. She looked rather like Maraquito, andapparently was in a bad temper. Mallow could see that she wassurprised when she entered, as, thinking Lord Caranby was incapacitatedby the accident described by Juliet, she did not know how he came tocall at so late an hour. Moreover, Lord Caranby had never visited herbefore. However, she apparently was bent on receiving him in a tragicmanner, and swept forward with the mien of a Siddons. When she cameinto the room she caught sight of Cuthbert's face in the blaze of thelamp and stopped short. "How--" she said in her deepest tone, and thenbecame prosaic and very angry. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Mallow? I hoped to see--"

"My uncle. I know you did. But he is dead. "

Mrs. Octagon caught at a chair to stop herself from falling, and wipedaway a tear. "Dead!" she muttered, and dropped on to the sofa. 

"He died two hours ago. I am now Lord Caranby. "

"You won't grace the position, " said Mrs. Octagon viciously, and thenher face became gloomy. "Dead!--Walter Mallow. Ah! I loved him so. "

"You had a strange way of showing it then, " said Cuthbert, calmly, andhe also took a seat. 

Mrs. Octagon immediately rose. "I forbid you to sit down in my house, Lord Caranby. We are strangers. "

"Oh, no, we aren't, Mrs. Octagon. I came here to arrange matters. "

"What matters?" she asked disdainfully, and apparently certain he hadnothing against her. 

"Matters connected with my marriage with Juliet. "

"Miss Saxon, if you please. She shall never marry you. "

"Oh, yes, she will. What is your objection to the marriage?"

"I refuse to tell you, " said Mrs. Octagon violently, and then somewhatinconsistently went on:

"If you must know, I hated your uncle. "

"You said you loved him just now. "

"And so I did, " cried the woman, spreading out her arms, "I loved himintensely. I would have placed the hair of my head under his feet. But he was never worthy of me. He loved Selina, a poor, weak, sillyfool. But I stopped that marriage, " she ended triumphantly, "as I willstop yours. "

"I don't think you will stop mine, " replied Cuthbert tranquilly, "I amnot to be coerced, Mrs. Octagon. "

"I don't seek to coerce you, " she retorted, "but my daughter will obeyme, and she will refuse your hand. I don't care if you are fifty timesLord Caranby. Juliet should not marry you if you had all the money inthe world. I hated Walter Mallow, your uncle. He treated meshamefully, and I swore that never would any child of mine be connectedwith him. Selina wished it, and forced me to agree while she wasalive. But she is dead and Lord Caranby is dead, and you can donothing. I defy you--I defy you!"

"We may as well conduct this interview reasonably. "

"I shall not let you remain here any longer. Go. "

She pointed to the door with a dramatic gesture. Cuthbert took up hishat. 

"I shall go if you insist, " he said, moving towards the door, "and Ishall return with a policeman. "

Mrs. Octagon gave a gasp and went gray. "What do you mean?"

"You know well what I mean. Am I to go?"

"You have nothing against me, " she said violently, "stop, if you will, and tell me the reason of that speech. "

"I think you understand what I mean perfectly well, " said Mallow again, and returning to his seat. "I know that your sister died years ago, "Mrs. Octagon gasped, "and that Emilia feigned to be Selina Loach. Andperhaps, Mrs. Octagon, you will remember how your sister died. "

"I didn't touch her, " gasped Mrs. Octagon, trembling. 

"No, but Emilia Saul did, and you condoned the crime. "

"I deny everything! Go and get a policeman if you like. "

Cuthbert walked to the door and there turned. "The statement of Emiliawill make pleasant reading in court, " he said. 

Mrs. Octagon bounded after him and pulled him back by the coat-tailsinto the centre of the room. Then she locked the door and sat down. "We won't be disturbed, " she said, wiping her face upon which theperspiration stood, "what do you know?"

"Everything, even to that letter you wrote to my uncle, stating heshould see the pretended Selina Loach. "

This was a chance shot on Mallow's part, but it told, for he saw herface change. In fact, Mrs. Octagon was the only woman who could havesent the letter. She did not attempt to deny it. "I sent that letter, as I was weary of that woman's tyranny. I thought it would get herinto trouble. "

"She would have got you into trouble also. Suppose she had lived andhad told the story of Selina's death. "

"She would have put the rope round her own neck, " said Mrs. Octagon ina hollow tone, all her theatrical airs gone. "I was a fool to wait solong. For twenty years that woman has held me under her thumb. It wasEmilia that made me consent to your engagement to Juliet. Otherwise, "she added malevolently, "I should have died rather than have consented. Oh, " she shook her hands in the air, "how I hate you and your uncle andthe whole of the Mallows. "

"A woman scorned, I see, " said Cuthbert, rather cruelly, "well, youmust be aware that I know everything. "

"You don't know who killed Emilia?"

"Maraquito said it was you. "

"I" shrieked Mrs. Octagon, "how dare she? But that she is dead, asJuliet told me, I would have her up for libel. Maraquito herself killedthe woman. I am sure of it. That coining factory--"

"Did you know of its existence?"

"No, I didn't, " snapped Mrs. Octagon. "I knew nothing of Emilia'scriminal doings. I let her bear the name of my sister--"

"Why?" asked Mallow, quickly, and not knowing what Maraquito had saidto Caranby. 

"I don't know, " replied Mrs. Octagon, sullenly, "Emilia was in sometrouble with the law. Her brother and mother were afterwards arrestedfor coining. She might have been arrested also, but that I agreed tohold my tongue. Emilia pushed Selina off the plank. Then she turnedand accused me. As it was known that I was on bad terms with Selina, Imight have been accused of the crime, and Emilia would have sworn therope round my neck. Emilia made me help her to change the dress, andsaid that as the face of the dead was disfigured, and she was ratherlike Selina--which she certainly was, she could arrange. I did notknow how she intended to blind my father. But my father diedunexpectedly. Had he not done so, the deception could not have beenkept up. As it was, I went to the inquest, and Emilia as Selinapretended to be ill. I saw after her and we had a strange doctor. Then we went abroad, and she came back to shut herself up in RoseCottage. I tried to marry Caranby, but Emilia stopped that. "

"Why did she?"

"Because she loved Caranby in her tiger way. That was why she insistedyou should marry Juliet. She always threatened to tell that I hadkilled Selina, though I was innocent. "

"If you were, why need you have been afraid?"

"Circumstances were too strong for me, " said Mrs. Octagon, wiping herdry lips and glaring like a demon. "I had to give in. Had I known ofthat factory I would have spoken out. As it was, I wrote to Caranbywhen in a fit of rage; but afterwards I was afraid of what I had done, as I thought Emilia would tell. "

"She certainly would have done so had she not died so opportunely. "

"Do you mean to say that I killed her? I tell you, Maraquito did so. "

"What makes you think that?" asked Mallow, delighted at the mistake. 

"Because she was always fighting with Emilia about you. Maraquitowished to marry you, and Emilia would not let her. After Emilia died, Maraquito saw me, and we arranged to stop the marriage, and--"

"I know all about that. I saw you--or rather my uncle saw you--enterMaraquito's Soho house. "

"I went on Basil's account also, " said Mrs. Octagon, sullenly, "however, I have told you all. What do you wish to do?"

"I wish to marry Juliet. "

"Then I refuse, " said Mrs. Octagon, savagely. 

"In that case I'll tell. "

"You will disgrace Juliet. Besides, the law can't touch me. "

"I am not so sure of that. You were an accessory after the fact. Andif the public knew that you had acquiesced in the death of your sisterand had held your tongue for years, you would not be popular. I fearyour books would not sell then. "

Mrs. Octagon saw all this, and glared savagely at Cuthbert. She wouldhave liked to kill him, but he was the stronger of the two, and knewmuch which she wished kept silent. Mallow saw the impression he wasmaking and went on persuasively. "And think, Mrs. Octagon, Juliet cangive you up the six thousand a year--"

"Not she, " laughed Mrs. Octagon, sneering. 

"She will, at my request. I don't want my wife to possess money madeout of coining. The income will be made over to you by deed of gift. "

"Six thousand a year, " mused the lady, "and you will hold your tongue?"

"Of course, for Juliet's sake as well as for yours. But I think itwill be advisable for you to travel for a few years. "

"I'll take up my abode in America forever, " said Mrs. Octagon, rising, "do you think I'll stop here and see you my daughter's husband? Notfor all the money in the world. Besides, Mr. Octagon has been insolentover money, and I sha'n't stay with him. Basil and myself will go toAmerica and there we will become famous. "

"It is certainly better than becoming famous in another way, " saidMallow, dryly, "you will, of course be quite amiable to Juliet. Alsoto me, in public. "

"Oh, " she replied, with a short laugh, "I'll kiss you if you like. "

"There is no need to go so far. I am sorry for you. "

"And I hate you--hate you! Leave me now at least. You can cometo-morrow, and I'll consent publicly to the marriage. But I hope youwill both be miserable. Juliet does not love me or she would despiseyou. I wish you had died along with your uncle. "

She was becoming so wild in her looks that Cuthbert thought it best toleave the room. The key was in the door, so he departed, quite surethat Mrs. Octagon, to avoid scandal about her shady doings, would bemost agreeable towards him in public, however much of a demon she mightbe in private. Thus ended the interview. 

Next morning Mallow drove to Jennings and related everything, includingthe confession of Caranby regarding the accident, and added details ofthe interview with Mrs. Octagon. Jennings listened, astonished. 

"I am glad you told me, " he said, "of course I don't want you to makeall this public. The general impression is the same as that of Mrs. Octagon, that Maraquito murdered Miss Loach. It need not be known thatEmilia was masquerading under a false name. She need not be broughtinto the case at all. What a wonderful case, Mallow. "

Cuthbert assented. "It's more like fiction than fact. "

"Fact is always like fiction, " said Jennings epigrammatically, "however, we've got a confession from Clancy about the other factories. The whole gang will be caught sooner or later. And, by the way, Mallow, on second thoughts, I think it will be best to state the real name ofEmilia. "

"I think so too. If she is pilloried as Miss Loach, everyone will knowthat she is the aunt of Juliet. Tell the truth, Jennings. "

"We'll tell everything, save that Lord Caranby inadvertently murderedthat woman. She was the fatal woman--"

"No, " said the new Lord Caranby, "Mrs. Octagon is the fatal woman. Shewas at the bottom of everything. "

"And has been rewarded with six thousand a year. I don't suppose theState can seize that money. However, I'll see. I should like topunish Isabella Octagon in some way. And Susan Grant?"

"You can give her a thousand pounds on my behalf, and she can marry herbaker. Then there's Mrs. Barnes--Mrs. Pill that was. She is quiteinnocent. Thomas her husband will be punished, so you had better tellher, I'll provide for her. As to yourself--"

"That's all right, Mallow, this coining case means a rise of salary. "

"All the same, I intend to give you a few thousands on behalf of myselfand Juliet. Without you I would probably have been accused of thecrime. And, in any case, things would have been awkward. There mighthave been a scandal. "

"There won't be one now, " said Jennings. "I'll settle everything. Mrs. Octagon will go to the States with that young cub, and you canmake Miss Saxon Lady Caranby. It is good of you giving me a reward. Ican now marry Peggy. "

"We all seem to be bent on marriage, " said Mallow, rising to take hisleave. "How's the shoulder?"

"All right, " said the detective, "and it's worth the wound to havePeggy nursing me. She is the dearest--"

"No, pardon me, " said Cuthbert, "by no means. Juliet is the dearestgirl in the wide world, " and he departed laughing. 

Needless to say, under the careful supervision of Jennings, all scandalwas averted. The gang with Clancy at its head were sentenced to yearsof imprisonment, likely to put a stop to all pranks. Maraquito wasburied quietly and Mallow erected a gravestone to her, in spite of herwicked designs against Juliet. In six months Jennings married Peggyand took a house at Gunnersbury, where Peggy and he live in thecongenial company of Le Beau, who has become quite reconciled toJennings' profession. The old professor teaches dancing to thechildren of the neighborhood. Susan Grant also married her baker, andthe two now possess one of the finest shops in Stepney. Mrs. Octagonwent to America almost immediately. She managed to keep the sixthousand a year, in spite of Jennings. No one knows how she managed todo this, but envious people hinted at Government influence. However, with Basil she departed to the States, as she confessed to being wearyof constant triumphs in England. Mrs. Octagon now has a literary salonin Boston, and is regarded as one of the leading spirits of the age. Basil married an heiress. Peter, weary of playing the part of husbandto a celebrity, remained in England but not in London. He sold the"Shrine of the Muses" and took a cottage on an estate in Kent belongingto Lord Caranby. Here he cultivates flowers and calls frequently onhis step-daughter and her husband, when they are in the neighborhood. Peter never knew the true history of his wife. He always refers to Mrs. Octagon with respect, but shows no disposition to join her in America. Peter has had quite enough of sham art and sham enthusiasm. 

And Cuthbert was married to Juliet within the year. The wedding wasquiet on account of his uncle's death, and then Lord Caranby took hisbride for a tour round the world. To this day Lady Caranby believesthat Maraquito murdered Miss Loach, and knows also from newspaperreports that the pretended aunt was really Emilia Saul. Mrs. Octagonalso expressed surprise at the infamous imposture, and quite deceivedJuliet, who never learned what part her mother had taken in thebusiness. In fact Juliet thought her mother was quite glad she hadmarried Cuthbert. 

"Mother really liked you all the time, " she said to her husband whenthey set off on their honeymoon. 

"I doubt that, " replied Lord Caranby, dryly. 

"She told me that it was always the dream of her life to see me yourwife, but that Maraquito had threatened to ruin Basil if--"

"Oh, that is the story, is it? Well, Juliet, I am much obliged to Mrs. Octagon for loving me so much, but, with your permission, we will notsee more of her than we can help. "

"As she is in America we will see very little of her, " sighed LadyCaranby, "besides, she loves Basil more than me. Poor boy, I hope hewill get on in America. "

"Of course he will. He will marry an heiress--" And Cuthbert'sprophecy proved to be correct--"Don't let us talk of these things anymore, Juliet. This dreadful murder nearly wrecked our life. My pooruncle talked of a fatal woman. Maraquito was that to us. "

"And I?" asked Juliet, nestling to her husband. 

"You are the dearest and sweetest angel in the world. "

"And you are the greatest goose, " said she, kissing her husband fondly, "we have had enough of fatal women. Let us never mention the subjectagain. "

And they never did. 

THE END