l continued to keep his hand on Cuthbert's shoulder,
whereupon the young man flung it aside. At the same moment Jennings
closed with him, and a hand-to-hand struggle ensued. Maraquito, with
straining eyes, watched the fight. With stiffened muscles the two
reeled across the room. Cuthbert was almost too amazed to fight. That
Jennings should accuse him and attack him in this way was incredible.
But his blood was up and he wrestled with the detective vigorously. He
was an excellent athlete, but Jennings was a west-country-man and knew
all that was to be known about wrestling. With a quick twist of his
foot he tripped up his opponent, and in a minute Cuthbert was lying on
his back with Jennings over him. The two men breathed hard. Cuthbert
struggled to rise, but Jennings held him down until he was suddenly
dragged away by Maraquito, who was watching the fight eagerly. There
she 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--kill
him!" she said with hysterical force.

"There is no need to," said the detective, feeling his arms, which were
rather sore. "Mallow, I beg your pardon for having fought you, but I
knew you would not lend yourself to a deception, and the only way in
which I could force this lady to show that she was able to walk was by
a 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 wished
to learn the truth about Mrs. Herne."

"Mrs. Herne!"

"Or Maraquito Gredos or Bathsheba Saul. She has a variety of names, my
dear fellow. Which one do you prefer?" he asked, turning to the
discovered woman.

Maraquito looked like the goddess of war. Her eyes flashed and her
face was red with anger. Standing in a striking attitude, with one
foot thrust forward, her active brain was searching for some means of
escape. "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 accident
was merely a sham to avert suspicion."

"Mrs. Herne is my aunt."

"Pardon me, no. The only aunt you ever had was Emilia Saul, who died
in Caranby's house. In our interview at Hampstead you betrayed
yourself when we talked of Mallow. I had you watched. You were seen
to enter this house, and out of it Mrs. He