As yet he had not heard from
Cuthbert with regard to the interview with Juliet. The detective waited
upstairs in Le Beau's sitting-room for the conclusion of the meeting,
but when Mallow never appeared he went down. Then he learned from
Peggy, who was in the office, that the lovers had been gone for some
time "I thought you knew," said Miss Garthorne.

"No," replied Jennings, "I did not know," and then, since he had no
further reason to remain, he took his departure also, wondering why
Mallow had not come to report the matter.

That same evening he sought out Mallow, but was unable to find him at
his accustomed haunts. More perplexed than ever, Jennings, leaving a
note at Mallow's rooms, had returned to his own. He could make no new
move until he heard from Mallow, and the young man did not appear
inclined to give any assistance. Next morning, while at breakfast, he
expected his friend, but still there was no appearance of the visitor.
A ring came to the door and Jennings thought that this was Cuthbert at
last. 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 she
took a cab. I followed in another. Her cab stopped at the house of
Maraquito in Soho. Since then I have been watching the house, but I
have not seen Mrs. Herne again."

"She is Senora Gredos' aunt," explained Jennings, "so I expect she is
stopping 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 a
collector. He become friendly with me, and I asked him about the
house. He was very frank, but he said nothing about the gambling."

"Humph! I expect he has been told to hold his tongue. Well, did you
hear anything at all?"

"I heard that Gibber had never seen Mrs. Herne. He did not even know
her name. Now, sir," went on Drudge, laying a finger in the palm of
his hand, "if Mrs. Herne was stopping at the Soho house, Gibber would
have seen her."

A flash of joy passed across the countenance of Jennings, but he turned
away from his underling so that he might not betray the satisfaction he
felt. "Mrs. Herne is Maraquito's aunt," he said again.

"No, sir, pardon me. Maraquito hasn't got an aunt. Leastways the
aunt,