Mrs. Bertenshaw conducted them down. The art-pot stood upon the pedestal as she had described it—approximately four feet high. “That was where I found the money,” she said simply. “It is easy to see into there as you pass by—especially on your way back from the door.” Bannister looked inside and then turned to Sergeant Godfrey. “Come on, Godfrey,” he said, “this case is getting on my nerves. Good-afternoon, everybody.” He opened the door of the car and motioned to the Sergeant to precede him. “What do you make of it?” queried the latter. “Leaving those notes behind—I mean! After all—as the woman herself said—why take them to leave them behind?” Bannister leaned over authoritatively and tapped him on the arm. “Supposing,” he said, “supposing the murderer wanted something—very badly—and couldn’t get that particular something without first taking the notes as well—what then?” “I’m not good at riddles,” said Sergeant Godfrey. Chapter XXI The Lord Lieutenant Goes Back a Few Years Mr. Bathurst strolled to the window of the smoke-room of the Grand Hotel, Westhampton, and looked at the red chimney pots of the town. It was certainly a very beautiful morning. The two miles along the Bedford road that he intended to travel within the next hour or so—the two miles that would bring him to Dovaston Court—would seem, he felt sure, more like two yards than two miles, under the exhilarating influence of that morning sun. Mr. Bathurst felt more light-hearted that morning than he had felt for many mornings since he had left London. The first part of his task was over—accomplished. His interview of the previous day with Alan Warburton had definitely cleared up the first part of the case. The task that had been entrusted to him by Alexis of Clorania had been successfully completed. “There now remains,” he said to himself, half-humorously, “the Mystery of the Peacock’s Eye! And how far is it connected with Warburton’s blackmailing of the Crown Prince! Connected and yet not connected. A most interesting and intricate case,” remarked Mr. Bathurst. “But nevertheless rapidly approaching a solution.” At the same time Mr. Bathurst was beginning to realise that he would have to play his cards very carefully indeed to complete it as he wished. For he was beginning to form very clear-cut conclusions—conclusions that he confidently hoped would be seen more firmly consolidated after the interview that he intended should take place this morning. For some appreciable time now—in fact, ever since the Bank Manager’s timely entry—he had been considering very carefully the testimony of Mr. E. Kingsley Stark. “And he has held the position of Manager since May of last year—a matter of fourteen months only,” said Mr. Bathurst to himself. “Fourteen months,” he repeated; “three months shall we say since the ominous Hunt Ball in this interesting old town of Westhampton.”