The two men looked at one another, Jennings searchingly, and Cuthbert with a look of mingled¹ amazement² and indignation. They were rather like in looks, both being tall, slim and fair-haired. But Mallow wore a mustache, whereas the detective, possibly for the sake of disguising himself on occasions, was clean-shaven. But although Jennings’ profession was scarcely that of a gentleman, he looked well-bred, and was dressed with the same quiet taste and refinement³ as characterized Mallow. The public-school stamp was on both, and they might have been a couple of young men about town discussing sport rather than an officer of the law and a man who (it seemed from Jennings’ hints) was suspected of complicity in a crime.

“Do you mean this for a jest?” said Cuthbert at length.

“I never jest on matters connected with my profession, Mallow. It is too serious a one.”

“Naturally. It so often involves the issues of life and death.”

“In this case I hope it does not,” said Jennings, significantly.

Cuthbert, who was recovering his composure, sat down with a shrug⁴. “I assure you, you have found a mare’s nest this time. Whatever my follies⁶ may have been, I am not a criminal.”

“I never thought you were,” rejoined the other, also taking a seat, “but you may have become involved with people who are criminals.”

“I dare say half of those one meets in society are worthy⁷ of jail, did one know what is done under the rose,” returned Cuthbert; “by the way, how did you come so opportunely⁸?”

“I knew you had gone out of town, as I came a few days ago to see you about this matter, and inquired. Your servant said you were in Devonshire —”

“I went to see my mother who was ill,” said Mallow quickly.

“I guessed as much. You said something about your mother living in Exeter when we met last. Well, I had Paddington watch for your return, and my messenger —”

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