“Well, she knows all the secret passages and chambers of The Monastery better than I do, since she lived there for so long before I was born. As Uncle Ran had the peacock, she may have thought that he left it behind, and may have come down to steal it. She uttered that cry I am sure.”
“I don’t think so,” said Fuller scouting the idea, “She wouldn’t be such a fool, Marie. However, when we have been to Yarbury’s Bank—if the blessed place still exists, that is—we can drive to Thimble Square, and see if she is in or out of London.”
“She’s out of it, and in The Monastery,” cried Miss Inderwick very decisively, “It’s no use talking, Alan, I am sure it was she I heard screaming. And if she is there—which I am sure of—she will probably let that horrid Indian into the house, so that he can take the peacock. I sha’n’t sleep there to-night, Alan, but at the vicarage, I don’t want to be murdered by that Mr. Bakche as he murdered poor——”
“Marie, that is all theoretical.”
“I don’t care, it is true,” insisted Marie, and although Fuller argued the point until they arrived at Victoria Station, she still held to her opinion, rather to the young man’s annoyance. He had not thought Miss Inderwick was so obstinate, and told her as much in a most provoking manner, whereat the girl pouted. Of course Alan had to kiss her into a more amiable mood and admit that he was entirely wrong, and make sundry apologies for being the most disagreeable man in the world. The two were driving along Piccadilly in a taxi, before this comedy was finished, as such comedies always do, with the subjugation of the stronger by the weaker. “And you’re quite horrid, aren’t you?” finished Marie, pinching his arm.
“Quite,” admitted Alan gravely.
“And I’m an angel.”
“Rather; an archangel if you like!”
“Then I forgive you, dear. No, don’t kiss me. You’ll spoil the set of my hat, and make the driver turn round. And—and—oh Alan,” she suddenly dropped her bantering tone and became anxious. “I do hope Yarbury’s Bank is in existence. Where did you tell the man to drive to?”
“Monks Lane, Cheapside, dear. As he is doing so, thank heaven that is yet in existence. So much we have to be thankful for.”