Before leaving, Fuller determined to speak to Sorley of what he had heard from Mrs. Verwin regarding the visit of Morad-Bakche to Belstone. He had immediately after the interview warned Marie not to mention what had been said to her uncle, but on reflection he thought that it would be just as well to learn what he could. Moreover Mrs. Verwin being loose-tongued would probably talk about the matter, and if it reached Sorley’s ears he might get it into his suspicious mind that Alan was working against him, rather than with him, an attitude which was not to be permitted, since in this case union was strength. Whether Sorley was guilty or innocent the young man—as had been said before—could only decide on what evidence he possessed; but in any event, seeing that the gentleman in question was Marie’s uncle, Fuller wished to arrive at the truth without too much publicity. For publicity on the face of it, meant the intervention of the police. “Do you know that I went to dinner at Miss Grison’s boarding-house?” asked Alan in a would-be careless manner. “No,” retorted Sorley, again looking uneasy, “and it does not interest me if you did,” his manner gave the lie to this statement. “That woman hates me and is trying to injure me!” “In what way?” Sorley looked hard at the speaker. “By bringing back the peacock.” “I don’t quite understand.” And Fuller did not, as the remark puzzled him a great deal, lacking, as it did, a feasible explanation. “The woman stole the peacock,” said Sorley gloomily, “because she knew that I valued it and knew also that there was a riddle connected with it which would probably result in a treasure being found. For over twenty years she resisted all my supplications and threats to give it back, and I did not dare to move in the matter—as I told you before, Alan—lest she should destroy it. Yet here she comes down secretly and puts back the peacock in its old place without a word of explanation. “Have you asked her why she behaved in this manner?” “No; I am only too content to have the golden bird back again without asking questions. She would probably tell a falsehood since she hates me.” “But if she hates you, Mr. Sorley, why did she give you back what you so very greatly desired?” “That is what I wish to know,” cried the elder man excitedly. “It is for no good object I am certain. She means to cause trouble in some way, but how, I fail to see. Remember her threats in this very room when she was here.” Alan nodded. “It is very strange,” he murmured, and wondered if Sorley really meant what he said, or whether he was preparing an excuse for himself should he be told—say by the police—that Grison at the time of his death had possessed the golden peacock. “It is very strange,” said Alan again, and pondered deeply, while Sorley watched him gloomily and in a shifty stealthy manner. He seemed more uneasy and anxious than ever. “Why did you visit Mrs. Grison’s boarding-house?” he asked abruptly.