In this turn the young man lighted the candle he had kept beside him, and in the radiance of the two tapers surveyed the broken-down creature before him, who looked quite his age, if not more. His face and hands were black with dust and dirt, his clothes were stained and torn, while his beard had grown considerably, and despair lurked in his sunken eyes. In place of the alert, soldierly man of yore, Alan beheld a trembling, shivering, cringing thing, wincing at every sound, shrinking from every shadow. Guilty or not, Sorley was surely paying in full for his sins, since the agony and terror of his soul was made manifest in his body. “And I am innocent,” he muttered again and again. “If you are innocent why do you wish me to help you to escape?” asked Mr. Fuller gravely. “Because I can’t prove my innocence,” said Sorley with sudden energy. “I am in a net woven by that infernal woman.” “Your wife?” “Oh, so she told you that, did she? Yes, I admit she is my wife, and a bitter one she has been to me. But this is not the time or place to talk of these things. I could defend myself on that score if necessary, but there is no need. Place me in safety, Alan, and I can explain everything. You do not believe that I, am guilty; surely you don’t?” and he looked piteously at the young man, shaking like a leaf. “No, I can’t say that I am absolutely convinced of your guilt,” admitted Alan cautiously, “but when you gave yourself up why did you run away again?” “I can explain that,” replied Sorley with a cunning look, “only give me time, and all will be explained. I got away in the fog and came down here on my motor bicycle which I had kept ready in town. Now I am hiding here in a secret place below the earth—down in the cellars. There are ranges and ranges of cellars here, you know, Alan. I come up here at night to get food which long ago I placed in that cupboard”—he pointed to the recess with a trembling hand—“biscuits and potted meat, whisky and claret.” “That storage looks as though you expected to be accused,” said Alan dryly. Sorley nodded. “I was never sure of Louisa,” he muttered shuffling with his feet. “I knew she would get me into trouble some day, and she has done so. She is here now. Yes, I know that, for I saw her from a peephole yesterday evening wandering round the house. I daresay she entered it, for she knows all its secrets as well as I do. And if she finds me”—he gripped Alan’s coat—“she will give me up. I must get away; help me to fly beyond the seas until such time as I can prove my innocence. I won’t take the peacock with me,” he went on eagerly, “you can have that, and you can find the treasure. I shall only take my own jewels,” and he glanced at the panel which was still open. “The treasure has been found, Mr. Sorley.” “What—what—what!” the man would have fallen had not Fuller held him up.