dick latimer had promised to hold his peace for three days before imparting to the inspector who was in charge of the rotherhithe case what had been discovered with reference to sorley. all the same he was troubled in his mind, as he could not be sure if he was acting rightly. much as he sympathized with fuller because the man likely to be arrested was the uncle of the girl to whom his friend was engaged, it did not seem right that a criminal should remain at large. the journalist indeed thought that alan's objections were rather sentimental, and that justice should be done in spite of marie's feelings, which assuredly would be outraged. nevertheless he admitted that fuller was placed in a difficult position, and it was natural that he should wish to gain time in the hope of proving mr. sorley's innocence, and so avert the scandal.

but, so far as dick could see, there was no chance of clearing the man's character. he had been with grison, whom he openly detested, on the very night when the murder was committed, and shortly before it took place, as was conclusively proved not only by the letter, but by the evidence of the street-arab, who certainly could never have invented such an accurate description of the guilty person. then again, jotty had sworn that on the night of the crime he had been given his usual treat of a display of the peacock, and since that was now in sorley's possession, it could only have passed into it directly from the dead man. and as the presumed criminal's full name, randolph vernon sorley, was intimated by the initials r. v. s., and the note to grison was certainly in his handwriting there appeared to be no doubt that he had murdered the miserable creature to obtain wrongful possession of the inderwick fetish. finally, since that had been stolen, all sorley's energies had been bent upon getting it again, and in desperation he probably had struck the fatal blow. of course the story of miss grison having taken the peacock back to the monastery was one--so dick thought--deliberately invented to implicate the woman and account for the reappearance of the desired article.

upon this evidence it could scarcely be doubted that sorley was guilty, and when the fact that he had purchased a motor bicycle was taken into account, latimer could see no flaw in the indictment. more than ever he considered it necessary to have sorley brought to justice, which would be done as soon as inspector moon was informed of these discoveries. but having made a promise, dick faithfully kept it, in spite of the many qualms of conscience he daily felt. then on the third day he took up a newspaper to find a new and extraordinary development of the case. after mastering the article, which appeared in the latest news, a daily paper much given to gossip, he jumped into a hansom and drove direct to fuller's office. it chanced that alan was not engaged, so dick entered at once into his friend's private room, flourishing the paper.

"have you seen this?" he asked, placing it before alan.

"seen what?" asked the other, glancing at the heading indicated, and then he took in the meaning at once. "good lord!"

he might well utter the ejaculation, for the article contained an account of the inderwick fetish given--as was intimated--by no less a person than miss louisa grison. the story of ferrier was narrated, much in the same fashion as it appeared in the manuscript at the monastery, and it was very plainly stated that a treasure was to be found when the riddle attached to the peacock was solved. finally, miss grison ended the interview with the man, who had written the article, by saying that her dead brother had possessed the golden bird at the time of his death, and that in her mind there was no doubt that he had been murdered for its sake. "find the peacock," said miss grison, "and you find the assassin of my dear brother." then the article terminated with comments by the writer on the extraordinary and romantic story which had been set forth, and with the original remark culled from hamlet, "that there were more things in heaven and earth, etc., etc."

"i wonder he didn't add that truth is stranger than fiction," remarked dick, while alan hastily skimmed the account. "it is just as original. well, my son, and what do you think now?"

"i think," replied fuller, very decisively, "that jotty has repeated to his mistress what he told us, and she has taken steps to trap sorley."

"but she doesn't know that he has the peacock--for certain that is?"

alan shrugged his shoulders. "my mistake in showing the drawing to the boy has proved that sorley has the bird. miss grison, i daresay, knew that no sketch had been made of it before it was taken away; and in any event what jotty told us is sufficient evidence to secure sorley's arrest."

"i think so indeed. there is no longer any need for me to keep silence."

"well," said fuller hesitatingly, "i suppose there isn't. moon is certain to see this account, and will come to ask miss grison why she has made the matter public after promising to be silent. she can only excuse herself by repeating jotty's story, and moon will certainly go down to belstone to arrest sorley. poor marie!"

"i'm not so sure you can call her that," put in dick hastily. "after all if the man is a criminal, it is better that she should not be in his company."

"but the disgrace to the name----"

"to sorley's name, not to miss inderwick's. besides when she marries you she will change her name. it is no use being sentimental any longer, my boy," said latimer resolutely. "the man must be punished. i'm off to see the inspector, and tell him what i know."

"but dick won't it be best to question miss grison first, and learn if she really has heard jotty's story."

"i am quite sure she has," said the reporter emphatically, "else she would not have broken her promise to moon. the matter of the peacock was kept silent so that the assassin, feeling safe, might betray himself--as he has done, by the way to you. miss grison, learning from the boy that sorley is guilty, has taken the opportunity of making the story as public as possible so that the man can't escape."

"he may see the papers and take warning," suggested alan. "i expect this tale will be in every paper in the kingdom to-morrow."

"all the more reason that i should see moon at once. i am not going to dilly-dally any more, alan, but do my duty, as i expect you to do yours."

"i can't blame you. go and see moon."

latimer hesitated at the door. "you won't wire to sorley, or send that paper to him, i suppose."

"no. if the man is guilty and it certainly looks as though he were, he must be punished. i shall not interfere, unpleasant as the scandal will be for marie. go and do your duty, dick, by telling moon, and i shall do mine by keeping perfectly quiet."

latimer argued no longer but took his departure, leaving alan much disturbed in his own mind. and no wonder. marie did not love her uncle, who had always treated her with indifference, and had made use of her money for his own purposes. still, it would be a terrible shock for her to hear that he had murdered the brother of miss grison, and of course the shame of having a relative hanged would be great. and fuller did not see how mr. sorley could escape the gallows, since the evidence on the whole was so very decisive. at the best he could only defend himself by putting forward the story about miss grison, and that was but a weak line to take up.

"hum!" said alan, opening the drawer of his desk to look at the sketch he had made, "i wish i had not showed this to jotty. he must have mentioned it to miss grison, and from that fact she probably guessed that sorley had the peacock. the man will certainly be arrested, for he will have no time to escape."

as alan murmured this he glanced idly at the paper which dick had brought, and saw that it was dated the previous day, and of course had been issued yesterday morning. it occurred to the young man that chance might possibly bring the paper to sorley's notice, since four and twenty hours--if not more--had elapsed since its publication. and if the man was warned in time he assuredly would escape, before inspector moon could lay hands on him. fuller hoped that this would be the case, if only to spare marie the shame and pain of the scandal. but after all it was doubtful if the account would fall into sorley's hands immediately, as few newspapers arrived at belstone, and the doings of the world were always hours and days and, at times, weeks late. the solicitor shook his head dubiously, and wrapping up his sketch in the journal, he placed both in the drawer of his desk. there seemed nothing for it but to wait for sorley's arrest, and to hear what defense he would make to the charge brought against him.

shortly a card was presented to the lawyer by his clerk, and on seeing the name fuller ordered the owner to be shown in at once. in a few moments he was face to face with mr. morad-bakche, who looked calm and aristocratic and--as alan judged--indifferent. yet if he had seen the article in the latest news, and really had come to england to search for the treasure, bakche surely would not feign a nonchalance he could not possibly feel.

"how are you, mr. bakche?" asked, alan, polite and watchful, while placing a chair for the indian, "so you have come to see me as you said you would."

"yes, sir, and about a very important subject," replied bakche, sitting down stiffly, and taking a newspaper out of his pocket.

"yes?" said alan inquiringly, though of course the moment he saw the paper produced he knew why the man had come to see him.

bakche doubled back the journal and pointed out the article with a slender brown finger. "have you seen this?" he asked quietly.

it was not to fuller's interest to admit anything, as it was necessary to conduct this interview with great caution. the young man quietly read again the account of the interview with miss grison. all the time, bakche was looking at him hard, trying to guess by the expression of alan's face what he truly thought.

but the solicitor was prepared for the scrutiny, and kept an unmoved countenance. "very interesting," remarked fuller coolly, when he had finished.

"but not new to you, sir, i presume."

"well no, mr. bakche. the story told by miss grison is well known in belstone, the parish of which my father is the vicar. i have heard it before."

"have you heard before that this man grison was murdered for the sake of the peacock?" demanded the indian rather impatiently, and thereby showed that his indifference was mainly pretence.

"it was commonly reported in belstone that the grisons, brother and sister, had stolen the peacock from the inderwick family when they left the monastery some twenty years ago. but, pardon me, mr. bakche, why do you come here and ask me these questions?"

"can't you guess, sir?"

"how can i guess?" retorted fuller cautiously.

"by putting two and two together, as is your english way," said bakche in a calmer manner. "i told you when you dined at miss grison's that i had come to england in order to recover certain family property."

"you did. well?"

"the property i referred to is the peacock of jewels,"

"how did you expect me to know that, mr. bakche?"

"i can answer that if you will reply to a question?"

"what is the question?"

"do you know the story set forth in this article?" asked the indian quickly.

"yes. as i told you the whole countryside knows it."

"then you must be aware that the begum of kam gave the jewels to simon ferrier. i told you that i am a descendant of the rajah of kam, so you must have guessed that i desired to obtain possession of the peacock."

"quite so," said fuller coolly, "but there was no need for me to say so."

bakche was honest enough to admit this. "you are very cautious, you english gentlemen," he said with a faint sneer, "and no doubt you did not wish me to get the peacock."

"i fail to see how my telling you what you have now told me would aid you to get what belongs rightfully to another person."

"it does not belong to another person, but to me," cried bakche wrathfully.

alan raised his eyebrows. "how do you make that out?" he demanded in an exasperating manner. "george inderwick's servant, ferrier, manufactured the peacock for his master and----"

"and so manufactured it that in some strange way it reveals where the jewels of the begum are concealed," finished the indian sharply. "understand mr. fuller, that i do not exactly claim the peacock----"

"you did just now," interrupted alan in his turn, and shrugging.

"only because i wish to learn where the jewels are hidden."

"indeed. you will find that difficult, since for over one hundred years, the riddle of the peacock has been unsolved."

"never mind," said bakche doggedly. "if i see the bird i shall probably be able to learn the truth."

"and then?----" alan raised his eyebrows again.

"then," said the other confidently, "i shall take the jewels."

"you may not be allowed."

"why not. the jewels belong to me as the descendant of the rajah of kam."

"you forget," said fuller smoothly, "that the rajah's wife gave the same to george inderwick because he saved her life and the life of her son."

"she had no right to do so," cried bakche loudly, "the jewels were not her private property to dispose of, mr. fuller. they belonged to the family--to the state as it were. royal treasure cannot be parted with in this way."

"i am not prepared to argue the matter, mr. bakche," remarked fuller in a dry manner, "since--beyond the known story, which has become a sussex legend--i am not acquainted with the exact facts. but i would point out that the rajah may have given his wife permission to reward her preserver in this way. inderwick assuredly deserved a return for what he did."

bakche bowed stiffly. "i admit that the gentleman acted bravely, and as i am descended from the young prince he saved i am indebted to him for the fact that i exist at all. nevertheless, mr. fuller, the reward need not have taken the form of almost the whole of the royal treasure of kam."

alan shrugged his shoulders again. "the begum was apparently a very grateful woman, mr. bakche. and if she had retained the treasure, it would have been confiscated by the british government when the royalty of kam was abolished."

"it is probable," said bakche dryly; "but i think that the priests would have taken care to preserve the jewels and give them, when times became quieter, to the rightful owner."

"in which case you would now be in possession of them, i presume?"

"certainly. i am a direct descendant of the prince saved by mr. inderwick, sir. as it is i shall certainly claim them."

"you have to find them first," retorted alan coolly.

"show me the peacock and i shall try to solve the riddle and find them."

fuller laughed and shrugged. "does that mean i am the criminal?"

"oh no," bakche hastened to explain smoothly; "but you may know where the peacock is to be found."

"really, i don't quite follow your line of argument, mr. bakche.

"let me put the matter in this way," said the indian deliberately: "the peacock is not only valuable in itself, but also indicated the whereabouts of a great treasure. miss grison declares that her brother was murdered for the sake of the bird, so it is plain that the assassin must have known the meaning of the riddle."

"still i cannot follow your line of argument," persisted fuller; "so far as i know the riddle has never been solved, unless baldwin grison, who had the bird for over twenty years--according to his sister that is--guessed what has baffled everyone."

"well," said bakche sullenly, "whether he solved the riddle or not, some one who wanted the treasure murdered him to obtain the clue."

"on the other hand some rough sailor may have killed the man merely for the sake of getting the bird. it is valuable enough, as you say yourself, to account for the assassin risking his neck. but why come to me, mr. bakche, since on the face of it i can possibly know nothing."

"you know who wants the bird!"

"oh yes. miss inderwick, from whose house it was stolen, and to whom i am engaged, wants the bird very much, since it belongs rightfully to her. but i hope you don't accuse a girl of twenty of the crime."

"no! no! no!" said bakche earnestly; "but other people know of the value of the peacock."

"i agree. the whole countryside knows the story. if you suspect anyone in belstone you had better go down and look for the individual."

"i suspect mr. sorley!"

"why?" demanded alan, who had quite anticipated the question.

"because he wanted the peacock."

"so did miss inderwick, so did many other people. everyone who knows the story would like to find the jewels." alan paused for a reply but as none came he continued coolly: "how did you trace the possession of the peacock to baldwin grison?"

"i didn't--that is, i did in a way," stammered the indian nervously.

"in what way?" asked fuller relentlessly, and trying to make bakche tell what was already known to him, "for instance how did you come to live at miss grison's boarding-house?"

"i explained when i met you there, sir."

fuller laughed ironically. "you did, and i beg leave to doubt the truth of the explanation, mr. bakche."

"how dare you, sir; by what right do you doubt me?" demanded the man furiously, and his dark eyes shot fire.

"by the doubt of common-sense. you were in search of the peacock in order to gain a clue to the hiding-place of these jewels you claim. come now, mr. bakche, it was not mere chance that guided you to miss grison, who of all the people in london, knew about the matter."

morad-bakche looked sullenly at the carpet, and evidently saw that alan was one too many for him. after a long pause, which fuller took care not to terminate too soon, he looked up with a would-be frank smile. "as i wish you to help me in the matter," he declared, "i may as well make a clean breast of what i know."

alan nodded, and neither refused or agreed to accept the man as his client, but intimated that he was ready to give his attention to the confession. morad-bakche at once took exception to the word.

"it is not a confession i wish to make, sir, but merely a statement to show how i came to learn about the matter we are discussing."

"oh, i beg your pardon," said fuller ceremoniously, "go on please!"

bakche frowned at the irony of his tone, but made no further objection to relating what he knew.

"my explanation as to how i came to thimble square was not wholly true, mr. fuller," he said abruptly.

"so i thought at the time?"

"why did you think so?" asked bakche quickly.

"because i got it into my head that you were after the inderwick fetish, although when you spoke i did not know that it was the begum of kam who had given away the jewels. that fact i learned later. however, it struck me that if you had come on some such errand, you went for that reason to miss grison's boarding-house, and not because your ceylon friend recommended it."

bakche nodded. "very creditable to your intelligence," he said in a patronising manner. "to be plain, sir, i learned the story which is set forth in the newspaper, from some family documents."

"as i thought," murmured fuller softly.

"seeing that the begum had given away jewels which should rightfully belong to the family i determined to find them. i came to england and went to belstone, where the documents i mentioned informed me the inderwicks lived. at the inn there i learned from a very voluble woman all that was to be known about the loss of the peacock. . . afterwards i visited mr. sorley, who is, i understand, the guardian of miss inderwick, to whom the peacock is supposed to belong. he told me that the ornament was lost, but he did not say who had taken it from the monastery."

"quite so," said alan, remembering that sorley had withheld such information lest miss grison should give the peacock to the man; "but of course mrs. verwin at the inn hinted that the grisons had the bird."

"she did, sir and what is more she gave me the address of the boarding-house in thimble square. i returned to london in july last and took up my abode there, determined to learn all that i could."

"well?" asked fuller, when the indian paused.

"well," echoed the other, "i learned nothing particular."

"hum!" remarked alan doubtfully, and looking hard at the speaker, "did you tell miss grison the story of your search?"

"yes i did, at a later period when i had become more or less friendly with her. i even stated that it was reported how she and her brother had stolen the peacock."

"what answer did she make?"

"she said nothing to the purpose, only stating that she believed there was such an ornament, but that she did not know where it was. of course in the light of this interview," added bakche, placing his hand on the newspaper, "you can see that for her own ends she spoke falsely. evidently baldwin, her brother, was the thief, and possessed it the whole time. the wonder is, mr. fuller, that being desperately hard up as he was, he did not sell or pawn the peacock."

"i rather think that the man hoped to learn the secret and get possession of the jewels. did you ever see grison?"

"no," said bakche so quickly that alan felt sure he was not speaking the exact truth, and became more sure of the fact when he elaborated his denial. "miss grison refused to give me her brother's address, which i knew was in some slum. and of course, not guessing that grison had the peacock, i did not push my enquiries. had i known that he had the bird i should have placed the matter in the hands of a private detective, and in some way i should have learned his whereabouts."

"and then?"

"then," said bakche, drawing a deep breath and clenching his small hands, "i should have forced him to surrender it to me."

"you would have used violence?" asked alan in a peculiar tone.

"yes! that is----" bakche broke off with a laugh of contempt. "why do you look at me so suspiciously, mr. fuller? do you think that i did see the man and did use violence even to the extent of stabbing him? you are entirely wrong, sir. had i murdered him and obtained the peacock i should by this time have been far away on the continent out of danger, and until things grew quieter, i should have remained absent trying to solve the riddle. i am not the criminal, and i am not the possessor of the peacock."

"i grant that," said fuller quietly, who knew well that the man spoke the truth, since sorley owned the bird at that moment. "well, and what do you expect me to do, mr. bakche?"

"i wish you to find out who murdered grison, so that the peacock may be recovered and handed over to me."

"on behalf of miss inderwick i am doing that," said alan dryly, "so i cannot possibly act on your behalf."

"the peacock is mine," cried the indian, rising to his feet with a snarl which again reminded fuller of his tigerish nature.

"the peacock is miss inderwick's, and should i find it, i shall hand it over to her so that she may discover the treasure."

"you are----" began bakche violently, then suddenly and dangerously restrained his anger and smiled meaningly. "well, since you are engaged to the lady, it is natural that you should want her to gain the jewels----"

"mr. bakche, stop that if you please." alan rose in his turn with indignant looks.

the indian shrugged his shoulders and walked to the door. "it is a duel between us," he said smoothly, "you want what i want, so we shall see who wins. and i can tell you what is your best step to take."

"very kind of you, mr. bakche. and that is----"

"to find the boy alonzo, formerly called jotty. he knows the truth."

"then why not question him, since he is at miss grison's house?"

"indeed he is not; jotty has been missing since last night!" and refusing to explain further, the indian departed, leaving fuller greatly astonished and greatly annoyed also, that the boy should have disappeared.