“I agree. The whole countryside knows the story. If you suspect anyone in Belstone you had better go down and look for the individual.” “I suspect Mr. Sorley!” “Why?” demanded Alan, who had quite anticipated the question. “Because he wanted the peacock.” “So did Miss Inderwick, so did many other people. Everyone who knows the story would like to find the jewels.” Alan paused for a reply but as none came he continued coolly: “How did you trace the possession of the peacock to Baldwin Grison?” “I didn’t—that is, I did in a way,” stammered the Indian nervously. “In what way?” asked Fuller relentlessly, and trying to make Bakche tell what was already known to him, “for instance how did you come to live at Miss Grison’s boarding-house?” “I explained when I met you there, sir.” Fuller laughed ironically. “You did, and I beg leave to doubt the truth of the explanation, Mr. Bakche.” “How dare you, sir; by what right do you doubt me?” demanded the man furiously, and his dark eyes shot fire. “By the doubt of common-sense. You were in search of the peacock in order to gain a clue to the hiding-place of these jewels you claim. Come now, Mr. Bakche, it was not mere chance that guided you to Miss Grison, who of all the people in London, knew about the matter.” Morad-Bakche looked sullenly at the carpet, and evidently saw that Alan was one too many for him. After a long pause, which Fuller took care not to terminate too soon, he looked up with a would-be frank smile. “As I wish you to help me in the matter,” he declared, “I may as well make a clean breast of what I know.” Alan nodded, and neither refused or agreed to accept the man as his client, but intimated that he was ready to give his attention to the confession. Morad-Bakche at once took exception to the word. “It is not a confession I wish to make, sir, but merely a statement to show how I came to learn about the matter we are discussing.” “Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Fuller ceremoniously, “go on please!” Bakche frowned at the irony of his tone, but made no further objection to relating what he knew. “My explanation as to how I came to Thimble Square was not wholly true, Mr. Fuller,” he said abruptly. “So I thought at the time?” “Why did you think so?” asked Bakche quickly. “Because I got it into my head that you were after the Inderwick fetish, although when you spoke I did not know that it was the Begum of Kam who had given away the jewels. That fact I learned later. However, it struck me that if you had come on some such errand, you went for that reason to Miss Grison’s boarding-house, and not because your Ceylon friend recommended it.” Bakche nodded. “Very creditable to your intelligence,” he said in a patronising manner. “To be plain, sir, I learned the story which is set forth in the newspaper, from some family documents.” “As I thought,” murmured Fuller softly.