there was no doubt that the evidence of the village gossip would be valuable in connection with the rotherhithe crime, since it showed that another person besides mr. sorley desired to obtain possession of the peacock of jewels. from oral tradition or perhaps from some family paper, it was apparent that morad-bakche had learned how his great great grandmother, or whatever the relationship might be, had presented the gems to george inderwick. also the mere fact that he had sought to learn the history of the fetish from mrs. verwin indicated that he knew in some way, not yet to be explained, how the golden bird could reveal the hiding-place of the treasure. that he had met with a cousin of marie's in india, as he had told the landlady to account for his knowledge of the peacock, was merely an excuse, as no relative of the inderwick family was in india at the present time. but of course only bakche himself could explain how he had managed to trace the fetish which had to do with the family treasure of his ancestors, and he might do so when he called on fuller, which the young man quite expected him to do.

"mrs. verwin," thought alan, as he retired to bed, "undoubtedly must have told him that i was paying attentions to marie, so that was why bakche behaved so amiably to me at the boarding-house. dick was right after all, for the man is seeking for the gems, and his politeness to me had something to do with his hope of getting them. he is certain to look me up again, and if i pretend to know nothing, he will have to speak out himself if he desires my assistance. but then there's sorley----"

it was at this point that the young man's senses became confused, and he fell asleep. but next morning he determined to see marie's uncle, and ask if he had seen bakche in the village or haunting the grounds of the monastery. of course the indian was working secretly to regain what his people had lost; all the same he might have gone boldly to sorley, and sought to learn if that gentleman knew details of the gems and their whereabouts. alan remembered vaguely that sorley had talked of the possibility of his being murdered, and although the man insisted that the chance had to do with his own private collection of jewels, yet it was not improbable that bakche had threatened him. the indian was not the man to stick at murder if he wished to gain his ends, and alan wondered if he had killed baldwin grison in order to get the peacock. but this supposition he dismissed as ridiculous, since had bakche secured the plunder he assuredly would not have sent it to mr. sorley. however the sole chance of learning more or less of the truth lay in questioning both men. alan began with sorley.

also he wished to make a drawing of the peacock, so as to have before his eyes an exact representation of the bird. alan had a fair idea of art, and had at one time amused himself with sketching, but not being particularly successful had abandoned his hobby. however, he possessed sufficient technical skill to draw the bird and color the drawing, so looked out his japanned tin paint-box and took it in his pocket to the monastery. this was a couple of days before he returned to town, and at the beginning of the new year. luckily on this occasion marie had gone to see a schoolgirl friend at brighton, so fuller was glad that she would not be at home to interrupt his interview with mr. sorley. she asked too many questions, and having regard to her uncle's very peculiar position, alan found a difficulty in answering them. finally although he intended to show her the sketch of the peacock, he did not desire her to see him preparing it, since that would have given the lie to his assertion that sorley already possessed such a drawing, and moreover might reveal that the peacock itself had returned to its old home. therefore fuller entered the big house feeling thankful that marie was out of the way for a few hours. being very much in love with her he had never expected to have such a feeling, and felt rather ashamed of himself in consequence. but as he knew that he was acting straightforwardly under particularly difficult circumstances he cheered up and saluted his host with a smile. henny trent with a grin on her dutch doll face had introduced him into the library, and here mr. sorley was writing letters.

"how are you, alan," he said, rising to greet his visitor, and looking as spick and span as though he had just stepped out of a bandbox. "i thought you had returned to your duties in chancery lane?"

"i go back the day after to-morrow," replied the solicitor, shaking hands, and wondering if he was doing so with a man who ought to be in the new bailey dock; "i came to say good-bye and to ask you to allow me to make a drawing of the peacock."

"for what reason?" questioned sorley suspiciously and uneasily.

"my reason is very apparent, sir. the riddle is to be read on the exterior of the peacock, you say?"

"i think so, since i have opened the bird and found nothing inside it."

"then i must have a representation of the article before my eyes in order that i may ponder over the signs."

"what signs?"

"there you have me," answered fuller frankly; "so far as i can see there are no signs of hieroglyphics or writing on the bird, so i don't see that it can in any way indicate the hiding-place of the begum's gems. but if i have a picture and examine everything about it carefully, i may hit on the solution."

"you don't appear to be very certain of success," said mr. sorley dryly, "yet you told me that you were an adept at solving cryptograms."

"if they consist of signs," alan explained cautiously, "and i can see no signs on the peacock. well sir, will you let me draw it?"

"certainly, since i wish you to work with me in the endeavor to learn where ferrier concealed the treasure. but i don't want you to show the drawing all over the place, lest someone else should guess the secret."

"oh, i shall be careful," said fuller cheerfully, but making a mental reservation that dick latimer should see the sketch.

satisfied with his promise, sorley took the golden peacock from the cupboard of black oak, and unwrapped the chamois leather covering to display it on the table. but before doing so he locked the library door without apologizing, an action which seemed highly suspicious to his visitor. but if cautious with others who were in the house, sorley was certainly very frank in his dealings with alan, and although the young man could not bring himself to entirely trust his host, he admitted privately that the man did not act in a way which suggested terror of the law, and if he had murdered grison to gain possession of the fetish, he assuredly would be more cautious in showing it to a lawyer. but fuller never could make up his mind as to sorley's innocence or guilt, and wavered between belief and disbelief in a way which annoyed himself. but there was nothing else to be done until more evidence was forthcoming.

the young man looked searchingly at the beautiful specimen of goldsmith's work which glittered on the table. ferrier knew his trade thoroughly, and probably had acquired some skill when in india. the feathers, the form, and the head of the bird were perfectly done, and in a minute, delicate manner, which showed how painstaking its creator had been. the tiny emeralds on the head-tuft trembled on golden wires like the filaments of flowers, and the ruby eyes were set admirably in their sockets. the breast shone with few gems, but the body of the bird was of feathered gold, and the artist seemed to have reserved the full blaze of beauty for the outspread tail. yet there were fewer jewels in this than might have been expected, for in the three curved rows which followed the semicircular outline of the tail, alan counted only fifteen precious stones, namely: eight gems in the first row, four in the second, and three in the third. then between the second and third was the triangle which contained fifteen minute rubies on each one of its three sides.

"fifteen gems in the lines," murmured fuller thoughtfully, "and fifteen of them in each line of the triangle. i wonder, mr. sorley, if the number fifteen is the key to the secret."

"i can't say, i don't know; i certainly cannot see how it can be," replied the host doubtfully. "i have tried in every way to solve the riddle, but i cannot even see how to make a beginning, the secret may be contained in the position of the stones, the shapes of the stones, or the color of the stones." alan faced round. "what do you mean by the color answering the riddle?"

"it is just an idea i got from a man who is a theosophist. in what they--the theosophists i mean--call the aura of a human being, which can be seen by those gifted with astral sight, the colors all mean something."

"i don't quite follow you, mr. sorley, although i have heard something of this sort from dick. he believes in these occult things. do you?"

"i can't say that i have looked into them," rejoined sorley in a careless manner. "i only attended to the matter so far as the meaning of colors was concerned--a kind of color alphabet as it were. pink means affection, blue means religion, green sympathy, and so on. i applied the principle, but it wouldn't work."

fuller quite believed this, as he did not see how the principle in question could be applied. however, he was too engrossed in drawing the bird to go into the subject at the present moment, but promised himself to ask for a more thorough explanation of the color alphabet--as mr. sorley aptly called it--from dick latimer. meantime he drew the outline of the peacock, filled in the details, being particularly careful as to the position of the stones in the tail, and then slowly colored every part in accordance with the original object. when finished he laid down his brush with a tired sigh and held out the sketch at arm's length. mr. sorley restored the peacock to its chamois leather wrapping and to the cupboard, after which he returned to examine alan's artistic effort.

"very good, very good," he said nodding, "you have done it very exactly, although the drawing is very stiff."

"rather architectural isn't it, sir? but the original is stiff also, and i am not drawing from an artistic point of view, but with the idea of getting an exact representation of the thing," said alan, and slipping the sketch into an envelope, he put it along with the paint-box into his pocket.

before leaving, fuller determined to speak to sorley of what he had heard from mrs. verwin regarding the visit of morad-bakche to belstone. he had immediately after the interview warned marie not to mention what had been said to her uncle, but on reflection he thought that it would be just as well to learn what he could. moreover mrs. verwin being loose-tongued would probably talk about the matter, and if it reached sorley's ears he might get it into his suspicious mind that alan was working against him, rather than with him, an attitude which was not to be permitted, since in this case union was strength. whether sorley was guilty or innocent the young man--as had been said before--could only decide on what evidence he possessed; but in any event, seeing that the gentleman in question was marie's uncle, fuller wished to arrive at the truth without too much publicity. for publicity on the face of it, meant the intervention of the police.

"do you know that i went to dinner at miss grison's boarding-house?" asked alan in a would-be careless manner.

"no," retorted sorley, again looking uneasy, "and it does not interest me if you did," his manner gave the lie to this statement. "that woman hates me and is trying to injure me!"

"in what way?"

sorley looked hard at the speaker. "by bringing back the peacock."

"i don't quite understand." and fuller did not, as the remark puzzled him a great deal, lacking, as it did, a feasible explanation.

"the woman stole the peacock," said sorley gloomily, "because she knew that i valued it and knew also that there was a riddle connected with it which would probably result in a treasure being found. for over twenty years she resisted all my supplications and threats to give it back, and i did not dare to move in the matter--as i told you before, alan--lest she should destroy it. yet here she comes down secretly and puts back the peacock in its old place without a word of explanation.

"have you asked her why she behaved in this manner?"

"no; i am only too content to have the golden bird back again without asking questions. she would probably tell a falsehood since she hates me."

"but if she hates you, mr. sorley, why did she give you back what you so very greatly desired?"

"that is what i wish to know," cried the elder man excitedly. "it is for no good object i am certain. she means to cause trouble in some way, but how, i fail to see. remember her threats in this very room when she was here."

alan nodded. "it is very strange," he murmured, and wondered if sorley really meant what he said, or whether he was preparing an excuse for himself should he be told--say by the police--that grison at the time of his death had possessed the golden peacock. "it is very strange," said alan again, and pondered deeply, while sorley watched him gloomily and in a shifty stealthy manner. he seemed more uneasy and anxious than ever.

"why did you visit mrs. grison's boarding-house?" he asked abruptly.

fuller roused himself. "to hear all i could about the rotherhithe crime, mr. sorley. dick was at the inquest----"

"dick. who is dick?"

"dick latimer, a reporter, the man who shares my rooms. we were at college together. you have met him down here, mr. sorley."

"yes, yes, i remember now. his name slipped my memory. so he was at the inquest, was he?"

"yes, and like myself he is very interested in this crime."

"there is nothing interesting about it," said sorley abruptly once more; "some scoundrel of a sailor murdered the poor devil."

"but the motive?" asked fuller, wondering if his host hinted at the dead man's possession of the peacock.

sorley shrugged his shoulders. "have those sort of people ever any motive, alan," he asked skeptically.

"certainly. a man doesn't put his head in a noose for nothing."

"a noose." mr. sorley shivered and put his hand to his throat with an uncomfortable look, "no i suppose a man would keep clear of the gallows if he could. but--but--well never mind, alan, let us change this disagreeable subject. i promised to show you my own private collection of gems."

"yes, i shall be pleased to look at them," answered the young man, who saw that his last remark had greatly affected his host, a fact which again aroused his suspicions, and made him shrink from the dapper gentleman.

mr. sorley made no reply, but went to a panel marked with a cross cut in its wood, which formed a portion of the inside wall of the library. he fumbled at some spring for a moment and then the panel slid into a groove to display a cupboard with many shelves upon which were ranged trays of jewels. one by one the man brought them to the central table, and his eyes glittered with fanatic joy as he pointed out their various beauties. and certainly throughout many years he had succeeded in gathering together a number of precious stones.

"little by little i have collected for over thirty years," explained mr. sorley, mounting his hobby-horse, "buying here and there whenever i had the chance, and sometimes selling at a bargain what i had bought, so as to get some particular gem. there are quite six thousand pounds worth of jewels here, alan, and only my poverty has prevented my buying more."

fuller did not hint, as he might have done, that the collector had used his ward's income as well as his own to indulge his expensive taste, and had also sold furniture to which he had no claim for the same reason. under the circumstances it was foolish to quarrel with sorley on this point. until the mystery of the murder and the peacock was solved alan wished to keep on good terms with the man, who evidently had to do with both. he therefore examined the gems and listened patiently to sorley's explanations. and the jewels were certainly well worth looking at. there were diamonds cut and uncut, rubies colored like port wine, and some of the true pigeon blood hue; emeralds displayed their verdant tints, and there were sapphires the color of a summer sky. pearls were conspicuous by their absence, as if kept in a collection and not worn, sorley explained this--they became discolored; but beryl stones, amethysts, carbuncles, and opals, many-hued as a rainbow were displayed on the black velvet of the shallow trays. the collection was not of extraordinary value, but sorley gloated over his darlings, streaming the stones between his fingers, holding them up to the light, and pointing out to fuller the particular excellence of each.

"it's an expensive hobby," said alan, after an hour had been passed in this way, for sorley talked on with the merciless zeal of a collector.

"in a manner it is, my boy; but then gems are always worth money, and i can always sell these if necessary." he shuddered, "i hope it will not be necessary. it would be like parting with my life to give up these. i know every single one and each represents days and weeks of bargaining. i could tell you the history of each gem."

"i fear that would be too long," said fuller hastily, for he was growing weary of this enthusiasm; "but are you not afraid of these being stolen?"

"no," snapped sorley, putting back the trays and adjusting the panel, so that it looked exactly like a portion of the wall, "no one would ever guess that the jewels were behind that cross. you know, but i don't think you will rob me, alan. ha! ha! ha!"

"i am not fond enough of gems to do so," said the young man indifferently; "but you said at the vicarage that you feared lest you should be murdered for the sake of your collection."

"did i? did i? i forget."

"you certainly did," insisted fuller, looking at him searchingly; "and you seemed to be very much afraid."

"well of course there is six thousand pounds worth of gems there. some one might----"

"have you any particular person in your mind?"

sorley turned gray and gasped. "why do you say that?" he asked sharply.

fuller looked at him harder than ever. "i told you that i dined at miss grison's boarding-house," he explained; "while there i met with a man, who called himself morad-bakche!"

mr. sorley gasped again. "the indian," he muttered nervously.

"ah!" alan gasped. "so you have seen him."

"seen him, seen him. what do you mean?"

"i mean that this morad-bakche came down to belstone to ask after the peacock, and gained some information from mrs. verwin at the inn. she told him how it was suspected that the grisons had stolen the ornament, and gave him the bloomsbury address."

"so morad-bakche is at miss grison's," muttered sorley, sitting down; "that makes it more certain that she is up to no good in connection with me."

"i thought it strange myself," said alan dryly.

sorley did not reply, but looked hard at the carpet, "what do you think of this indian?" he asked abruptly.

"i think he is a man who will stick at nothing to get the peacock."

"then he is after that?"

"you should know," said alan meaningly.

"how should i know." there was a note of defiance in the man's voice.

"because mrs. verwin declared that bakche went to look at the monastery. if he did, i think--from what you hinted just now--that you saw him."

"yes, i saw him, and what is more i spoke to him. confound that woman! she chatters too much."

"why should she not?" questioned the solicitor. "the story of the peacock is well known--that is the history of its being a fetish of the inderwicks. that it can reveal a treasure is not known, i fancy."

"no. quite so. after all mrs. verwin only said what everyone else can say, alan. but i wish she hadn't told bakche about the grisons."

fuller shrugged his shoulders. "what does it matter now. you have the peacock in your own possession."

"yes, i have the peacock, and if bakche learns that, he may try and murder me. he is just the man--as you say--to stick at nothing."

"oh, then, that was what you meant when you hinted your fears to me on christmas day at the vicarage?"

"yes." sorley wiped his face again, looking still gray and anxious, "and of course miss grison had brought back the peacock by that time. if i hadn't got it i should not be so afraid. ah," he rose and began to walk up and down in a startled way. "i see her game now alan. she will tell bakche how i have the peacock and he will--and he will--oh alan!"

the man gripped fuller's arm and appeared to be thoroughly frightened at the idea of a raid being made by the indian. the solicitor gently forced sorley to sit down again and asked for an explanation. "you must be frank with me if i am to help you," said the solicitor.

"oh i shall be frank," panted sorley, as though he had been running for a long distance. "i can trust you, and you want to marry my niece. it is to your benefit to be on my side, and then----"

alan cut short this vague chatter. "tell me about bakche?"

"well then, he did come to the monastery about july last. he called here openly, and told me what mrs. verwin had stated. he gave me to understand that he was the representative of the kam royal people, and knew all about the peacock."

"how did he learn?"

"from some family papers which stated that the begum had given the gems to george inderwick because he saved her life and the life of her son."

"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.