Marie assented very readily to be her lover’s cicerone, and for the next hour they were passing along corridors, peeping into rooms, ascending and descending stairs, and searching for secret chambers and outlets. All the time Marie talked, telling Alan tales about this room and that, which she had heard from Granny Trent, who had lived nearly the whole of her long life in the old building. But what struck Alan most was the absence of furniture. Room after room had been stripped bare, and the vast house gave him the impression of being an empty shell. Yet according to the old woman, whom they looked in to see in her particular den, the place had been crammed with treasures no later than twenty years ago when Mrs. Inderwick had died. “But he’s sold them all,” mourned Granny, who did not seem to have much love for her master—“tables and chairs and wardrobes and pictures, and all manner of things, my dears. It’s a shame I say, for they belong to you, Miss Marie, and he ain’t got no right to get rid of your property.” Granny was a lively, active woman, small and shrivelled in her looks, with twinkling black eyes and an expressive face. Age did not seem to have dulled her faculties, for she spoke clearly and to the point, and what is more, intimated that she could see through a brick wall, meaning in plain English—how easy it was to guess that the young couple were in love. “And a very good thing too,” said granny nodding sagely; “you being handsome and good and kind-hearted, Mr. Alan, or you wouldn’t be the son of them dears at the vicarage else. Just you marry my lamb, sir, as soon as you can get your pa to read the service, if it’s only to look after him.” “Mr. Sorley?” inquired Fuller pointedly. “You mean him?” “And who else should I mean, Mr. Alan, if not him? A poor feckless thing I call him, selling up my lamb’s goods to waste money on bits of stones. Ah, if the luck of the Inderwicks wasn’t missing there’d be plenty of them.” “You mean the peacock?” “I do. That blessed bird that means good fortune to my lamb here, sir. Them Grisons took it I’ll swear when they went away over twenty years ago, and took the luck along with them, for never will it come back—it’s the luck of the family I’m talking of, Mr. Alan—until the peacock is under this roof again.” “What sort of luck will it bring, Granny?” asked Marie eagerly. “Marriage to you and Mr. Alan here, a fortune when the riddle is read as it surely will be, and an outgoing for him, as is your uncle and don’t look after you, my lamb, as he should, drat him.” “Oh, he means well, Granny.” “If he means well, why don’t he do well,” retorted the old woman. “Never mind, the luck will come your way, my lamb, when you least expect it. Now go down to the dining-room, my dears, and I’ll tell Jenny to set out something for you to eat. You can’t live on love,” chuckled Granny, her eyes twinkling.