The instant Harriet, from the head of the stairs, heard the front-door close, she ran back into her bed-room, put on her hat, and darted down. Opening the door, she saw Ida moving away at a short distance. Turning her eyes in the opposite direction, she perceived a policeman coming slowly down the street. She ran towards him. "I've caught her at last," she exclaimed, as she met him, pointing eagerly after Ida. "She's taken a brooch of mine. I put it in a particular place in my bed-room, and it's gone." "Was she alone in the room?" inquired the constable, looking keenly at Harriet, then down the street. "Yes, she went in alone to put her things on. Be quick, or she'll be off!" "I understand you give her in charge?" "Of course I do." A brisk walk of two or three minutes, and they had caught up Ida, who turned at the sound of the quick footsteps, and stood in surprise. "This lady charges you with stealing some articles of hers," said the constable, looking from face to face. "You must come with me to the station." Ida blanched. When the policeman had spoken, she turned to Harriet, and gazed at her fixedly. She could neither speak nor move. The constable touched her arm impatiently. Her eyes turned to him, and she began to walk along by his side. Harriet followed in silence. There were not many people on the way to the police-station in King's Road, and they reached it speedily. They came before the inspector, and the constable made his report. "Have you got this brooch?" asked the inspector, looking at Ida. Ida put her hand into one of her jacket-pockets, then into the other, and from the second brought out the object in question. It was of gold, and had been given by Julian to his wife just after their marriage. As she laid it before her on the desk, she seemed about to speak, but her breath failed, and she clutched with her hands at the nearest support. "Look out," exclaimed the inspector. "Don't let her fall." Five or six times, throughout the day and evening, Waymark had knocked at Ida's door. About seven o'clock he had called at the Castis', but found neither of them at home. Returning thence to Fulham, he had walked for hours up and down, in vain expectation of Ida's coming. There was no light at her window. Just before midnight he reached home, having on his way posted a letter with money in it. As he reached his door, Julian stood there, about to knock. "Anything amiss?" Waymark asked, examining his friend by the light of the street-lamp. Julian only made a sign to him to open the door. They went upstairs together, and Waymark speedily obtained a light. Julian had seated himself on the couch. His face was ghastly. "What's the matter?" Waymark asked anxiously. "Do you know anything about Ida?" "She's locked up in the police cells," was the reply. "My wife has accused her of stealing things from our rooms." Waymark stared at him.