With a look of wonder written all over his ruddy face Berwick departed and personally telephoned for the two necessary persons in question. Marie rather fumed while he was absent, as woman-like she expected to be taken as genuine on her bare word. “He thinks we are swindlers,” she said crossly.
“And small blame to him,” rejoined Alan good-humoredly, for it was evident that the gems were all right, as he judged from Berwick’s hints. “You can’t expect the man, my dear, to hand over thousands of pounds worth of jewels without making inquiries.’
“The peacock is enough,” said Marie stubbornly.
“The peacock is the cause of the trouble,” retorted her lover; “but here is Mr. Berwick. Well, sir?”
“I have received a reply from both,” said the manager, resuming his seat, and looking apologetically at Marie, “they will be here as soon as possible. Pardon me taking these precautions, and perhaps while you are waiting for Inspector Moon and Mr. Latimer, you will explain how you came to find out that the box of Ferrier was in our bank?”
“We guessed the riddle,” said Marie suddenly.
“Oh!” Berwick looked at the peacock in a puzzled way. “I knew from what the newspapers said that there was a riddle to be solved, although I can’t see what this golden ornament has to do with it. Did you not know that the box was at Yarbury’s Bank?” he addressed Miss Inderwick.
“No; nor did anyone else, Mr. Berwick. Only when Mr. Fuller and I guessed the riddle did we learn the whereabouts of the box. It is here then?”
“Certainly,” Mr. Berwick assured her promptly, “and has been here for over one hundred years. When I looked into matters on taking charge of the bank, I, like all former managers, became acquainted with the fact that a box of jewels had been deposited with us by Simon Ferrier on behalf of his master, George Inderwick, shortly after the Battle of Plassey. We have the letter of instructions concerning it.”
“What are the instructions?” asked Alan.