“I only wished to learn the latest details with an eye to copy,” said Dick, “but I think I shall leave things until to-morrow, as I am quite tired out.” Having arrived at this conclusion, the two groped their way back to Chancery Lane and to Barkers Inn. The true reason why Latimer had so readily yielded to Fuller’s suggestion was that he greatly desired to learn if Sorley had again sought shelter with them. But on entering their chambers they found that no one had come during their absence, and Dick heaved a sigh of relief, which was echoed by Alan. “I’m glad he didn’t come back,” remarked Alan, “we should have had to give him up.” “I think he knew as much, and so did not return. However, the fog will afford him an excellent chance of escape, and I doubt if he will be caught a second time. What’s the matter?” “The black bag,” gasped Fuller, pointing to an article of that description which was on a chair in the corner of the room, “he mentioned that when he went away with Moon.” Alan picked up the bag. “What is in it?” “The peacock for a hundred pounds,” cried Dick swiftly. He was right, for when the bag was opened, Fuller found wrapped in the chamois skin the golden bird, which was the cause of all the trouble. “Ha!” said Latimer staring at it, “now we can try and solve the riddle.” CHAPTER XVI MISS INDERWICK’S EXCURSION While these events were taking place in London, Marie, isolated in The Monastery, anxiously waited to hear news from her lover. As arranged, Mr. Fuller met her at the Lewes station and drove her to Belstone in his trap. As Alan had guessed, the vicar was in full possession of all that had taken place, and invited the girl to stay with himself and his wife until matters were more settled. While in London Marie had complained of her loneliness at the big house, and had looked forward to some such invitation. But on the way down in the train she had changed her mind, since she felt that she could think things out better when alone. However, she did not object to dining at the vicarage, and explained the whole matter to her hostess. They were naturally horrified, as no such event had ever before disturbed the village. “I can’t believe that Mr. Sorley would commit a crime,” said Mrs. Fuller, greatly distressed, “gentlemen don’t do these things.” The vicar drew down his long upper lip. “I fear that gentlemen do what suits them, when the temptation is strong, my dear.” “Does that mean that you believe Uncle Ran is guilty?” flashed out Marie in a resentful tone. “Not necessarily. I am not yet acquainted with the whole story, save what scraps you told me as we drove here.”