As Alan murmured this he glanced idly at the paper which Dick had brought, and saw that it was dated the previous day, and of course had been issued yesterday morning. It occurred to the young man that chance might possibly bring the paper to Sorley’s notice, since four and twenty hours—if not more—had elapsed since its publication. And if the man was warned in time he assuredly would escape, before Inspector Moon could lay hands on him. Fuller hoped that this would be the case, if only to spare Marie the shame and pain of the scandal. But after all it was doubtful if the account would fall into Sorley’s hands immediately, as few newspapers arrived at Belstone, and the doings of the world were always hours and days and, at times, weeks late. The solicitor shook his head dubiously, and wrapping up his sketch in the journal, he placed both in the drawer of his desk. There seemed nothing for it but to wait for Sorley’s arrest, and to hear what defense he would make to the charge brought against him. Shortly a card was presented to the lawyer by his clerk, and on seeing the name Fuller ordered the owner to be shown in at once. In a few moments he was face to face with Mr. Morad-Bakche, who looked calm and aristocratic and—as Alan judged—indifferent. Yet if he had seen the article in _The Latest News_, and really had come to England to search for the treasure, Bakche surely would not feign a nonchalance he could not possibly feel. “How are you, Mr. Bakche?” asked, Alan, polite and watchful, while placing a chair for the Indian, “so you have come to see me as you said you would.” “Yes, sir, and about a very important subject,” replied Bakche, sitting down stiffly, and taking a newspaper out of his pocket. “Yes?” said Alan inquiringly, though of course the moment he saw the paper produced he knew why the man had come to see him. Bakche doubled back the journal and pointed out the article with a slender brown finger. “Have you seen this?” he asked quietly. It was not to Fuller’s interest to admit anything, as it was necessary to conduct this interview with great caution. The young man quietly read again the account of the interview with Miss Grison. All the time, Bakche was looking at him hard, trying to guess by the expression of Alan’s face what he truly thought. But the solicitor was prepared for the scrutiny, and kept an unmoved countenance. “Very interesting,” remarked Fuller coolly, when he had finished. “But not new to you, sir, I presume.” “Well no, Mr. Bakche. The story told by Miss Grison is well known in Belstone, the parish of which my father is the vicar. I have heard it before.” “Have you heard before that this man Grison was murdered for the sake of the peacock?” demanded the Indian rather impatiently, and thereby showed that his indifference was mainly pretence.