d Jennings, rising, "I now know why Mrs. Octagon has
acted in this way. There's no more to be said."

"Are there any further questions you wish to ask me? Remember I go
abroad forever next week. You will never see me again."

"I think I have asked you everything. By the why," Jennings balanced
his hat between two forefingers, "I suppose your niece's complaint is
incurable?"

"She thought so until lately. But she has consulted a specialist, who
tells her she will walk again in a few months."

"Then I suppose since she has made money through Hale's gambling-house
she 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 old
man like Caranby are to be overcome."

"Ah, now you wish to know too much," said Mrs. Herne, laughing and
moving 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 Miss
Saxon 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 her
heart and speaking fiercely; "he loves Maraquito. And is she not worthy
to be loved? Is she--go--go." Mrs. Herne waved her hand. "I have
told you everything you asked, and more. Should you require further
information about Maraquito's love, I refer you to herself."

"Oh, I am not interested enough in the matter to ask her," said the
detective, and bowing to the lady who had sunk on the sofa, took his
departure. A strange idea occurred to him, suggested by the agitation
of Mrs. Herne.

When he met Drudge, who was partaking of a glass of gin, he gave him
instructions to watch the Hampstead house and follow Mrs. Herne when
she came out. Then having posted his spy--for Drudge was nothing
else--Jennings hurried back to town. That same evening he sent