Thus it happened that Lord Caranby, who was very ill and confined to his rooms, received a letter from Maraquito, asking him to invite Miss Saxon to a meeting with the writer.  “I see that the game is up,” wrote the artful Maraquito, “and I am willing to put things straight.  I know much which will be of service in clearing up matters, as I was a partner with Hale and Clancy in the coining.  I do not mind admitting this, as I am not afraid of the police arresting me.  I can look after myself, and I am quite sure that you will not betray me when I call at your rooms.  I also have something to tell you about my dead Aunt Emilia whom you so deeply loved.  Therefore, if you will arrange for me to meet Miss Saxon, and allow me to make a clean breast of it, all will be well.”

When Caranby received this letter his first idea was to send for Mallow.  But he reflected that Cuthbert was bitterly angered against Maraquito, and would probably hand her over to the police.  Caranby, from a remembrance of his love for Emilia, did not wish this to happen; therefore, he refrained from letting Mallow learn of Maraquito’s determination.  He hoped to get the complete truth from her and arrange matters once and for all.  Also, there was another reason, and a very strong one, which prevented the old gentleman from having his nephew present at the projected interview.

Maraquito soon received an answer to her letter.  It stated that Lord Caranby would be pleased to receive her on Sunday afternoon at three o’clock, and that Miss Saxon would be present.  When Maraquito read this she smiled an evil smile and went out to make a certain purchase which had to do with her visit.  Had Lord Caranby known of her wicked intention he would rather have cut off his right arm than have subjected Juliet to the danger she was about to undergo.  But he never credited Maraquito with such calculated wickedness.

On Sunday afternoon the old gentleman was seated near the fire, carefully dressed as usual, but looking very ill.  He suffered, as he had told Jennings, from an incurable complaint, and there was no chance of his recovering.  But he refused to take to his bed, and insisted on keeping his feet.  Cuthbert often came to see him, but on this particular afternoon Caranby had manoeuvred him out of the way by sending him to see an old friend with a message about his illness.  Cuthbert never suspected what was in the wind or he certainly would not have gone.  Afterwards, he bitterly regretted that he had not told Caranby of Maraquito’s threat against Juliet.  Had he done so, Caranby would never have received her.  As it was, the old lord waited patiently for the woman who was about to bring disaster in her train.  Precisely at three o’clock his servant showed up a lady.  “Madame Durand,” he announced, and then retired, leaving his master alone with a bent, crooked old woman who walked with the aid of a cane, and seemed very ill.