“It’s from Sorley and came yesterday morning. I have not had an opportunity of talking about it to you before, as you have been so confoundedly busy. It is a letter,” said Fuller, unfolding the missive, “which illustrates the proverb that he who excuses himself accuses himself.” “Ho,” said Latimer with a world of meaning, “read it out, my boy.” “There is no need to read it. I can give you the gist in a few words,” was Fuller’s reply, as he ran his eye rapidly over the lines. “Sorley begs me not to take notice of Miss Grison’s wild words, as she is a trifle mad. He had to dismiss her brother for forging his name to a check, but, as the man was also insane—slightly, that is—he did not prosecute him.” “Very kind and Christian-like, Alan, But why does Sorley put up with Miss Grison’s vagaries?” “He declares that he is sorry for her, in this letter.” “And by word of mouth as good as told you that he hated her. Humph! It seems to me that our dear friend is hedging. Well, and what more, Alan?” “Nothing more on the subject of Miss Grison, save that he declares his contempt for her threats.” “Threats. What threats?” Dick sat up alertly. “She told him in the presence of Marie, and in my presence also, that he was to wait and see how iniquity would be punished.” “Humph! That looks as though she means to be nasty.” “Exactly. And Sorley’s cringing to her implies that he guesses she can make things hot for him. However, he simply ends his letter by saying that when I come to Belstone for Christmas he will have a chat with me on the subject of cryptograms. Did I not say, Dick, that his letter illustrates the proverb I referred to. Why should Sorley think it necessary to explain about Miss Grison and her crazy words—if indeed they are crazy—or why should he wish to talk about cryptograms to me, unless——” “Quite so,” interrupted Dick on the same word and in the same manner as his friend had stopped him previously. “Unless she believes that Sorley made away with her brother. It’s a strange case, and grows more complicated as we go into it.” “What is your opinion, Dick?” “It is rather difficult to give a hard and fast one on what facts we have before us, seeing that we are so much in the dark. By the way, how long has Sorley had the motor bicycle?” “He told me, or rather hinted at three weeks, but Marie said that he bought it four months ago.” “Humph! So Sorley tells a lie about that, does he? It looks fishy. Certainly on a good machine he could slip up to town and back again in a night without anyone being the wiser.” “Then you think that he committed the murder, by——?” Alan spoke excitedly. “I can’t say that,” interrupted Latimer swiftly. “Oh! You infer then that he is innocent?” “I can’t say that either.” “Then what the deuce do you say?” demanded the lawyer irritably. “This much. That before we can be sure of Sorley being mixed up with the crime, we must learn for certain if he possesses the peacock of jewels.” “But how can we?”