Alan remained where he was on the sofa, staring at the carpet, and wondering what revelations would be forthcoming when he visited The Monastery the next day, for he was determined to pay the promised visit as soon as he could, lest Sorley should change his mind. But what startled him most was to learn that the jewels had belonged to the Begum of Kam. And that was the very place mentioned by Morad-Bakche as the former territory of his family. “Dick was right,” thought Alan. “Bakche _is_ after the gems of the peacock.” CHAPTER VIII AN EXPLANATION For the next two or three days Alan enjoyed the rural peace of the country and gave his parents a great deal of his society. Anxious as he was to follow up the hint of Sorley with reference to the story of George Inderwick’s treasure, he did not display undue eagerness, since it was better to behave in a casual manner, lest suspicion should be aroused. The young man did not wish Sorley to think that he knew too much about the matter, or had been making any inquiries, for it was not improbable that he might take alarm and decline all assistance. Fuller felt certain that there was a skeleton in Sorley’s cupboard, safely locked up, but, “as suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind,” it would require a very slight circumstance to render the worthy gentleman uneasy. Therefore Alan pretended to an indifference which he did not feel, and kept away from The Monastery, until his diplomacy was rewarded about the middle of the week, by the appearance of Marie with a request that he should come over. “This afternoon Uncle Ran wants to see you,” said the girl pouting, for she was not pleased that Alan had kept clear of her company. “He has gone this morning to Lewes on his motor bicycle, and will be back at two o’clock to meet you.” “In that case,” said Fuller promptly, and glancing at his watch, “since it is just eleven, we can have three hours all to ourselves.” “I don’t think you want to pass all that time alone with me.” “Oh Marie, when you know how I love you.” “You don’t; you really and truly don’t;” said Miss Inderwick, who was looking provokingly pretty in a fur jacket and a fur toque; “if you loved me you wouldn’t waste your time as you do.” “Waste my time. Why not, when I am on a holiday?” “I don’t mean that sort of waste, you horrid boy. But you know that you are always in town and I am always here, so when you are down for a few days, you should be with me constantly.” “I should very much like to, my dearest spitfire, but would it be wise when your uncle discourages my attentions to you so pointedly?” “Oh!” Marie raised her eyebrows and pouted again. “If you are afraid of Uncle Ran there is no more to be said.” “There is a great deal more to be said,” retorted Alan, tucking her arm under his own, “and we can say it on our way to The Monastery. When the cat’s away at Lewes, we two dear little mice can play at Belstone. Marie, darling, don’t make faces; we must be sensible.”