“There was no question of mistaking anyone,” retorted Marie quickly, “for Mother Slaig did not know the name. I described Mr. Bakche as you did, and she said that she had seen a man of that description—the snake man she called him.” “The snake man,” repeated Alan swiftly. “Why?” “On his right arm from the wrist to the elbow he had a snake tattooed in spirals.” Fuller slapped his knee, and spoke excitedly. “Mother Slaig is right, dear, and so are you. Miss Grison told me that Bakche had such a mark.” “Then he must have been at Rotherhithe and known Mr. Grison,” said Miss Inderwick. “Certainly; since Mother Slaig would otherwise have known nothing about the tattooed snake. Tell me exactly what she said, Marie.” Miss Inderwick did so, omitting nothing, and shortly Fuller was in possession of all that had taken place at Rotherhithe. The recital so excited him that he rose to his feet and began to pace the room. “And Bakche denied that he visited Rotherhithe, or knew Grison,” he cried. “Marie you have undoubtedly found valuable evidence which may help to clear your uncle’s character, I admit that.” “I am quite sure that Uncle Ran is innocent, and that Miss Grison is conspiring with Mr. Bakche to ruin him,” said Marie firmly. Alan shook his head. “No, dear, I don’t think that there is any conspiracy between them. If Bakche gained the peacock by murder, he certainly would not have sent it to your uncle. And if Miss Grison knew that he had the bird, she must have guessed that he stabbed her dearly-beloved brother. In that case she would have denounced him. Of course, she denies having brought the peacock down here; but if she did, Baldwin gave it to her before his death.” “And if she did not, Mr. Bakche must have sent it.” “Why should he do that?” “To get Uncle Ran into trouble.” “My dear, Bakche did not wish to get Mr. Sorley into trouble. All he desired, and still desires, is to obtain the peacock.” “Then why did he haunt Rotherhithe?” “To get the peacock,” repeated Alan; “and if he did get it, he certainly would not have given it to your uncle. No, Marie.” Fuller shrugged his shoulders. “What you have discovered implicates Bakche plainly enough, but it does not solve the mystery of the death. That is as great a riddle as ever.” “What is to be done now, then?” asked the girl, fuming at the judicious way in which her lover talked. “We must tell Inspector Moon about Bakche’s visits to Rotherhithe, and then the Indian can be questioned. I shall do that to-morrow. Meanwhile—” Alan opened the black bag——“look at this.”