silence, Mallow looked up suddenly. Whether he read the truth
in Jennings' eyes or the recollection of Jennings' profession brought
the Crooked Lane crime into his mind, it is impossible to say. But he
suddenly grew pale and dropped the knife with a look of abhorrence.

"Yes," said Jennings, in reply to his mute inquiry, "that is the knife
that was used to stab Miss Loach."

"This knife?" said Mallow, with a gasp, "but how the dickens," he used
a 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 suspected
you, Mallow. To own the truth, I don't suspect you now, but for your
own sake--for your own safety, explain how that knife came to be in
Miss Loach's house."

"I can't say," cried Cuthbert, vehemently, "really I can't. I swear I
never missed it until you drew my attention to the blank left in the
trophy of arms yonder." He flung himself into a seat, and passed his
hand through his hair with a bewildered air. "Surely, Jennings, you do
not think me guilty of killing that poor wretch?"

Jennings stretched out his hand, which Mallow grasped. "There is my
answer," said the detective, "of course I don't suspect you. The mere
fact 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 the
strange 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 to
the attic of Rose Cottage by Mrs. Pill. Miss Saxon was standing on a
chair with her hand on the cornice. I managed to place my hand in the
same place--it matters not how--and there I found that."

"This knife?" Cuthbert, still bewildered, took up the formidable
weapon. "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 a
blackguard unless she did not love me--and she does love me."

"Of course," interposed Jennings swiftly, "so much so that she has
concealed this knife so as to--as she thinks--save you. Now, c