“I am indeed in a dangerous position,” he said, striving to steady a voice that would quiver with ill-concealed alarm, “all the same I am entirely innocent. I swear to it.” “A judge and jury will not believe in such swearing without proof,” said Fuller, shaking his head. “Proof! Proof! What proof can I give? Only Louisa Grison can prove that the peacock was brought to The Monastery without my knowledge, and she hates me too greatly to confess as much. Do you think,” cried Sorley bitterly, “that she will spoil the trap she has set? Not she. I know her venomous nature too well.” “There’s the letter, you know,” Dick reminded him. “Yes! The letter. I don’t deny the letter, which that Judas of a boy showed to you. He betrayed me——” “And he saved you,” interpolated Alan quickly. “For money in both cases,” sneered the other, “if the truth is to be found that lad knows it. If so, he is aware that I am guiltless, and thus he may have come to warn me because his conscience smote him.” “I scarcely think that Jotty is sufficiently evolved to possess a conscience,” said Latimer dryly; “he helped you for the five pounds, as he betrayed you for the two pounds. It is all a question of money. But since you insist so strongly upon your innocence, Mr. Sorley, I should like to hear on what grounds you do so.” “On the grounds that Miss Grison brought the bird to——” “Yes, yes; but the letter; your presence at Rotherhithe on the night and about the time the crime was committed?” put in Alan hastily, for he felt that they were losing time. The old man was silent for a few moments, and his fingers played in a senile manner on his unshaven chin. Then he appeared to gain a sudden strength from the steady looks of his companions, and spoke with some dignity and considerable strength. “I make an admission to you both,” he said in a surprisingly clear tone. “I knew that Grison had the peacock.” “Oh!” said the listeners simultaneously, and looked at one another, wondering if Sorley was about to confess his guilt. The man saw this and smiled in a sardonic manner. “If I were what you suppose me to be,” he said coldly, “I should scarcely admit as much; but being innocent, I can do so. For many years I believed that Louisa Grison had stolen the peacock out of revenge, because I dismissed her brother.” Alan nodded at this point, as he had heard the woman acknowledge as much, but did not interrupt. “It was twelve months ago when I became aware that Grison possessed it. He wrote me a letter saying that he could not live long, and was ready to give up the peacock on condition that I came to hear on what terms he was prepared to surrender it. I went up to town and to Rotherhithe to that dreadful woman’s house.” “Mother Slaig’s, I suppose. Did you ride your motor bicycle?”