"Rickett's is not the only fool." The addition was the little woman's. This expression of opinion was also adopted. "For all I know, Mrs Bankes, you may, on ordinary occasions, be a person remarkable for common-sense; but you must forgive my saying that, on this occasion, it is not that quality in your conduct which strikes one most. You are the wife of a man who is no friend of ours; you have forced yourself into our confidence; you have tricked us into treating you with alarming frankness; you have engineered yourself into a position in which you will be able to do us serious mischief. For us it now becomes a question of self-preservation. What are we to do with her?" "Don't let her go back to her husband." This suggestion also came from the lady in weeds. An irrepressible shudder went all over Mrs Bankes. She would have protested, however feebly, against so terrible a proposition, had not her tongue refused its office. Never had she supposed it possible that she would have been treated with contempt by anyone--and by a gang of thieves! The five women drew together at one side of the room. They entered into agitated discussion, conducted, however, in whispers, so as to be inaudible to the anxious lady close at hand. The consultation could not have been carried far before the room door was again thrown open, and the woman, Ricketts, who had been primarily the cause of all the mischief, came rushing in. "Quick!--the coppers! they're at the door!--the other way." The woman was a picture of excitement and alarm. As soon as she had spoken she turned and fled as rapidly as she had come. Her words fell like a bombshell amidst the little group of women. Without an attempt at comment they rushed after her, bustling each other in their panic flight. Almost before she learned what had happened, and certainly before she could guess what was about to happen, Mrs Bankes found herself alone. Suddenly there was the sound of violent knocking at the street door; a loud crash; heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs. Three or four men came into the room. One of them, advancing, laid his hand upon her shoulder. He turned to a man behind him. "They've had the office and done a bolt. I daresay they are trying the roof; go up and see. Take somebody with you." The man addressed walked quickly from the room, two others going with him. "You are my prisoner." CHAPTER V.--INTO THE FIRE Mrs Bankes looked up at the speaker with ashen cheeks. "Your prisoner? What do you mean? Who are you?" "You know very well who I am, though, since you ask, I don't mind telling you that I'm a detective officer of police, named Macarthy, which, no doubt, is all quite news to you. How comes it that you weren't so nimble on your pins as those friends of yours?" "Friends of mine?"