“Look here, sir,” he said, rising to address his host more impressively, “I know that the discovery of this treasure is connected with some cryptogram which has to do with the lost peacock. I accept your terms, as, having experience in secret writings, I am sure that I can solve the mystery which has baffled everyone for so long. If I do, and the treasure is found, will you—as you say—consent to Marie becoming my wife.” “Yes,” said Sorley tersely and decisively, “but of course part of the treasure must be given to me.” “Oh, I shall buy your consent to my marriage with half of it,” said Marie in a rather contemptuous tone. Fuller secretly did not endorse this too generous offer, and determined that if he did solve the riddle, to hand over the gems to Miss Inderwick. But it was not diplomatic at the moment to insist upon this too much, particularly as Sorley had practically agreed to the marriage. “The first thing to do is to find the jewels,” said Alan easily, “and then things can be better arranged, Mr. Sorley.” “Very well,” said the old gentleman, taking it for granted that Alan as well as his niece agreed to the terms, extortionate as they were, “we understand one another. Marie, you can go away.” “But I want to stop and hear everything,” she exclaimed rebelliously. “The time is not ripe for you to hear everything. As yet I know very little, and wish to consult Alan about arriving at the truth. He can tell you all you wish to know later.” “Go, dear,” said Fuller in a low voice, and leading the girl to the door, “I can act for us both.” Marie pouted and tossed her pretty head. “You are horrid,” she murmured. “I do want to know all about the peacock.” “You shall know if anything is to be discovered about it.” “Very well,” she said obediently, “but I think you’re horrid all the same.” When she left the library and the door was closed, Sorley, who had removed his overcoat and gloves and cap, sank into a chair with a sigh. He was evidently tired out by his ride to Lewes and back again. Alan waited for him to open the conversation, for having his suspicions of the man, particularly after his hesitation when Marie had mentioned the peacock, it behooved him to be cautious. Sorley thought for a few moments with his eyes on Fuller’s face then spoke abruptly. “You know that Miss Grison hates me, and why?” he demanded shortly. “Yes. She accuses you of having ruined her brother by having dismissed him wrongfully.” “Quite so, and acts like a mad woman in consequence. As if I could help the man going to the bad. I gave him every chance, and instead of prosecuting him for forging that check I let him go free. I don’t see that I could have behaved better. That he sank to the Rotherhithe slum was purely his own fault.” “Miss Grison doesn’t think so.”