“Yes, I think so.” He was feeling in the dark hole which the displaced stone had revealed; “but it doesn’t seem to be very much. Only a small box. Oh Marie, there can’t be many jewels in this.” He handed up as he spoke a tin box of no great size, which Marie received with manifest disappointment, and went on groping. However he found nothing else, so emerged from the well, with his clothes considerably damaged, and with a red perspiring face, for the task had made him quite hot. “How can we open the thing?” asked Marie, when they sat on the edge of the well to examine the box, “It’s locked.” “Pooh! it’s only tin,” said Alan, and looked rather annoyed. “What a sell if this little thing contains the whole treasure.” “Perhaps it’s a big diamond,” said Marie, watching her lover pry open the locked lid with the edge of the spade. “Perhaps,” assented Alan dubiously, and worked away hard. It was not an easy job, in spite of the box being merely tin, but in the end he managed to get the lid off. “Huh! it’s only papers.” And that was all. Papers wrapped up in linen to preserve them from damp, though the box was dry enough, since it had been hermetically sealed by the stone block. One paper, on examination, proved to be a statement signed by the Begum and Rajah of Kam and their vizier, saying that the jewels, which were enumerated, had been given to George Inderwick because he had saved the life of the royal woman and her son. Then there was a letter to Inderwick written by Ferrier, which stated that he had placed the jewels in Yarbury’s Bank, Monks Lane, Cheapside, London. “To be given up to you when you produce to Mr. Yarbury the peacock of jewels,” ended the instructions. CHAPTER XVIII THE TREASURE HUNT “Have you the papers, Alan?” “Yes dear.” “And the key which came out of that box?” “Yes, dear.” “Then I have the golden peacock in this bag of Uncle Ran’s,” ended Marie, quite satisfied that all was well.