“I don’t agree with you,” remarked Latimer, after some reflection. “You have seen Jotty ticketed as Alonzo—what a name; and have learned the early history of this unfortunate brother and sister. Finally, you have met with Mr. Morad-Bakche.” “He’s got nothing to do with the matter anyhow.” “My dear son, George Inderwick obtained this treasure you are looking for, in India. Simon Ferrier manufactured the peacock in India, and Mr. Morad-Bakche comes from India.” “So do half a hundred other students of the kind,” retorted Fuller. “You are too suspicious, Dick, and see a bird in every bush.” “Perhaps I am. But I should like to know why Mr. Bakche was so friendly with you and told you so much about himself. Orientals are generally reserved and don’t talk all over the shop. Mr. Bakche told you that he had come to look after some family property. How do we know but what it consists of those gems which the Begum of Kam gave to George Inderwick?” “Over one hundred years ago, remember. How could Bakche know about them?” “Orientals have long memories. However, I admit that I may be unduly suspicious, as you observe, Alan. All the same I should like to know what Mr. Bakche is doing in Miss Grison’s house and why he was so friendly to you even to the extent of hinting that you might be his solicitor.” “Well then, if he does consult me he will have to state his reason. And if that has to do with the Begum’s gems, I shall know where I am. Your imagination is too vivid, Dick.” “It is not imagination but the use of a sixth sense, which gives me impressions contrary to facts,” insisted Mr. Latimer, “and if——” “Oh, I know you believe in all that occult rubbish,” interrupted Fuller in a rather rude way, “but I am too matter-of-fact to be superstitious.” “Too obstinate to change your opinion, you mean,” replied Dick equably, “Well, well, my son, we will not quarrel over the matter. Time will show if I am right. In the meantime what do you make of Miss Grison’s statement that the peacock would ruin her?” “I can make nothing of it, and ask you for an explanation.” “Humph! The riddle is hard to guess. The only thing I can say is that she dreads lest Sorley should learn of her theft. If so, he would prosecute her and so she would be ruined.” “She is not afraid of Sorley.” “Not now, because he doesn’t know—so far as we can see—that she stole the peacock.” “But why did she tell me that? If I told Sorley——” “Miss Grison knows that you are on her side, so to speak, and will not say anything to Sorley, who is dead against your marriage with Miss Inderwick.” Alan ruffled his hair, as was his custom when perplexed. “I can make nothing of the matter,” he cried, greatly exasperated. “What’s to be done?” “See Sorley at Christmas when you go down to Belstone,” advised Dick in a calm way, “and hear why he wants to discuss cryptograms with you. In that way you may get on the trail of the lost peacock.”