ke poor Juliet their banker. In some
way they have implicated me in the crime, and Juliet thinks that I am
in 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 further
explanation from her, as she ran away. Hang it!" Cuthbert jumped up
angrily, "if she'd only tell me the truth and speak straight out. I
can't understand this silence on her part."

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

"Ah, I daresay," said Cuthbert, "particularly as he quarrelled with his
aunt 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 fine
rage with the dead woman. And you know what an uncontrollable temper
he 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't
imagine. She's the soul of honor, and Basil--bah!"

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

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

"Ha!" said Jennings half to himself, "and the Marlow Theatre is not far
from 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 Octagon
House. 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 to
stop the marriage by bringing you into the matter of the crime. Were
you down there on that night?"

"Yes," said Cuthbert with hesitation, and to Jennings' surprise, "I did
not intend to say anything about it, as my uncle asked me to hold my
tongue. But since things have come to this pass, you may as well know
that I was there--and about the time of the murder too."

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

"You might have arres