“Marie will tell you while you drive back to Belstone, father. We can’t all get into this small trap, so Dick and I will walk.”
“Very good,” said Mr. Fuller gathering up the reins, “but tell me, both of you, about the jewels.”
“We have found Yarbury’s Bank and the jewels also,” said Marie gaily, “I can relate our day’s experience while you drive, dear Mr. Fuller. And, Alan, do come to the vicarage before you go to sleep at The Monastery.”
“Yes; Dick and I can spend the evening with you and mother and father. Afterwards we can walk over to your house to sleep there. I shall call and tell granny—with your permission—to get a couple of beds ready for us. Only don’t you speak to Morad-Bakche, my darling; refer him to me.”
Marie nodded and waved her hand as the vicar—who was rather bewildered by all this mystery—drove the pony-chaise out of the station yard. The two young men braced their muscles and started on the five miles’ tramp to Belstone in very good spirits. Alan fancied, and communicated his fancy to his friend, that the presence of Bakche augured good, since the man undoubtedly knew something, and would be willing to impart it if he shared the fortune.
“But why should he?” objected Dick, lighting his pipe; “the assignment of the gems to George Inderwick puts him out of court.”
“Marie wants to use some of the money to clear her uncle’s name,” explained Alan gravely, “and although I don’t like Sorley, I am willing that she should do so. It will be worth the money.”
“That depends if Bakche can say anything useful,” growled Dick doubtfully.
“I am certain that he can, since he hinted something of the sort to me. He knew Grison at Rotherhithe also, and knew that he had the peacock.”
“No!” said Latimer, greatly surprised.