The young man laughed at her eagerness, and was surprised to see how gay and happy she looked, which was indeed remarkable, seeing that Sorley was in such straits. He replied to her questions in sequence. “I am quite well, dearest; I arrived an hour ago, and walked direct from Lewes to you, not even troubling to go to the vicarage; I shall stay for the whole day, as I want to be with you, and have much to tell you; we may as well go into the library for a purpose which I shall explain soon; and in this bag I have the peacock of jewels.” “Oh,” cried Miss Inderwick greatly astonished, “how did you get it?” “Mr. Sorley left it in my chambers last night.” “Then you have seen Uncle Ran?” “Yes; and so has Latimer.” Marie looked nervous. “Mr. Latimer doesn’t like Uncle Ran,” she said thoughtfully, “but I hope he has not given him up to the police.” “Your Uncle Ran gave himself up of his own accord,” said Alan grimly, “but repented at the eleventh hour and made his escape.” “I’m glad of that,” remarked the girl thankfully, “as I believe Uncle Ran is quite innocent. But why did he give himself up at all?” “I don’t know, no more than I can say why he changed his mind and bolted, my dear. However, I can tell you the whole story if you will listen.” And when Miss Inderwick signified by a gesture that she was all ears, Fuller detailed all that had taken place on the previous night. By this time they were in the library with the door closed, and Alan related his story seated in a deep armchair with Marie balancing herself on the table. “Poor dear Uncle Ran,” she said when Fuller ended; “he wished to give that horrid Miss Grison a chance of confessing her guilt.” “Confessing her guilt! What do you mean, Marie?” “I mean that she knows more about the murder than she admits, and that she is in league with that nasty Indian to ruin Uncle Ran.” Alan shook his head gravely. “You can’t be sure of that, Marie.” “But I am,” she insisted positively. “Mr. Bakche knew that Mr. Grison was at Mother Slaig’s and went there heaps of times. She saw him.” “How do you know?” asked Alan, surprised by her decided tone. “Because she told me herself. Of course she didn’t know his name, but her description is exactly the same as yours—haughty, dark and——” “Marie! Marie! How do you know this?” “Because I visited Mother Slaig yesterday.” Fuller looked startled. “Darling you never went by yourself to see that dreadful old hag?” “Yes, I did, and I don’t think she’s so very dreadful. She was very nice to me in every way, and what she told me only cost a sovereign.” “Marie, you shouldn’t have gone to Rotherhithe without telling me.” “If I had you would have stopped me,” pouted Miss Inderwick; “and I did so want to do something to help Uncle Ran.” “But has your visit helped him? Mother Slaig may be wrong about Bakche, and may have mistaken a lascar for him.”