Naball stepped forward, but the American, who was now uneasy at the turn affairs had taken, waved him back.
"Wait a moment," he said quickly; "I deny the charge, and will prove it false to-morrow."
Kitty laughed derisively.
"By which time you will be on your way to Valparaiso. No, I'm not going to let you go."
"Neither am I," said Naball decisively. "I arrest you on this charge of robbery now," and he laid his hand on the shoulder of the American.
In a moment Fenton twisted himself away, and dexterously throwing Naball on the ground, darted towards one of the French windows.
"Not so fast, my friend," he said sneeringly, while Naball, half-stunned, was picking himself up; "guess I'll beat you this time. I care nothing for you nor that she-devil there. You can prove nothing."
Naball made a bound forward, but with a mocking laugh Fenton was about to step lightly through the window, when he was dashed violently back into Naball's arms, and Malton, pale as death sprang into the room.
"Hold him," he cried, clutching Fenton, who was too much astonished to make any resistance. "Don't let him go. He's guilty--I can prove it."
Eugénie had hurried into the room, attracted by the noise, and Kitty was standing near her, the two women clinging together for protection. Naball held Fenton firmly, while Malton, in a frenzy of rage, spoke rapidly.