“Hum!” murmured Alan to himself. “So the excuse of having been told by an Inderwick in India it was lost.” “Bakche wanted the peacock, and I told him that it was lost?” “Did you say who had stolen it?” “No, I didn’t. I thought if I did, that Miss Grison out of spite might give it to him, and so I should lose the treasure.” “Did Bakche know that the peacock would reveal the whereabouts of——” Sorley interrupted eagerly. “Of course he did. The papers in question told him that Ferrier had manufactured the peacock as a guide. Bakche declared that the Begum had no right to give family jewels to Inderwick, and insisted that I should surrender the peacock so that he could trace and recover them. I said that the bird was lost, and he went away greatly dissatisfied, saying that he would look for it.” “Of course,” said Alan nodding; “and as Mrs. Verwin had told him that the Grisons had stolen it, and had given him the boarding-house address, he went there to get it from her.” “I wonder why she didn’t give it to him to spite me,” groaned Sorley. Fuller was on the point of saying that she could not because her brother possessed the desired article, but checked himself. He did not wish to let Sorley know that he knew how Baldwin Grison had been murdered for the sake of that very peacock. And apparently from what had just been said, Sorley believed that the sister had always possessed it. “She preferred to give it to you,” said Alan. “Yes,” cried the man, “and why? Because she knew that Bakche wanted it. Now she will tell him and he will come and murder me to get it.” “He may not be so bloodthirsty,” said Fuller encouragingly, “and after all if you fear that, why not give him the peacock.” “No,” said Sorley energetically, “I shan’t give up the chance of getting the treasure. It belongs to Marie. I can’t as her guardian give up that.” “No.” Alan thought that Sorley was rather thinking of himself, than of his niece, “but what’s to be done?” “Nothing, I tell you, nothing,” said the other man almost fiercely, “I shall hide the peacock along with my own jewels behind that panel. No one will ever guess that it is there, and I shall ask the village policeman to keep an eye on The Monastery in case Bakche tries to rob me . . . And what will you do, Alan?” “My course is obvious, Mr. Sorley. I shall try and solve the riddle.” “Yes, yes. And we can then get the treasure, and Bakche will be outwitted. Even if he steals the peacock, we have the drawing to unravel the problem. Go! go! Alan go! and hold your tongue, for Miss Grison may not have told the man that I have the bird.” “Perhaps,” said Fuller dubiously, “time alone will show!” and he took his leave feeling that Miss Grison had probably informed Bakche about the peacock, on the chance that he would trouble the man she hated. CHAPTER XI JOTTY