“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.”