Cuthbert shrugged his shoulders.  He had said what was necessary and, unwilling to speak further, prepared to go.  Maraquito saw him slipping from her grasp.  Once gone, she knew he would never come back.  With a cry of despair she stretched out her hands.  “Cuthbert, do not leave me!” she cried in anguish.

“I must leave you.  I was foolish to come.  But you know now, that if you move in this matter I can move too.  I doubt very much, madam, if your past life will bear looking into.”

“You coward!” she moaned.

“I know I am a coward,” said Mallow uncomfortably; “it is not my way to threaten a woman—­I said that before.  But I love Juliet so much that at any cost I must protect her.”

“And my love counts for nothing.”

“I am sorry, Maraquito, but I cannot respond.  A man’s heart is not his own to give.”

“Nor a woman’s,” she moaned bitterly; “oh, heaven, how I suffer.  Help!”

Cuthbert heard footsteps ascending the stairs—­the light footsteps of a hasty man.  But Maraquito’s head had fallen back, her face was as white as snow and her mouth was twisted in an expression of anguish.  She seemed to be on the point of death, and moved by her pain—­for she really appeared to be suffering, he sprang forward to catch her in his arms.  Had he not done so she would have fallen from the sofa.  But hardly had he seized her form when she flung her arms round his neck and pressed her mouth to his.  Then she threw back her head, not now white, but flushed with color and triumph.  “I have you now,” she said breathlessly.  “I love you—­I love you—­ I will not let you go!”

What Cuthbert would have done it is hard to say.  Apparently Maraquito was determined to hold him there.  But at this moment Jennings appeared at the door.  On seeing him arrive so unexpectedly, Maraquito uttered a cry of rage and dismay, and released Mallow.  “Send him away—­send him away!” she cried, pointing to Jennings, who looked cold and stern.  “How dare he come here.”

“I come on an unpleasant errand,” said Jennings, stepping forward.  “I want you, Mallow!”

Cuthbert, who had moved forward, stopped.  “Why do you want me?”

Jennings placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder.  “I arrest you on the charge of murdering Selina Loach!”

Maraquito uttered a shriek, and Cuthbert’s face grew red.  The latter spoke first.  “Is this a jest?” he asked harshly.

“You will not find it so.”

“Let me pass.  I refuse to allow you to arrest me.”

Jennings still 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.