“You know that Simon Ferrier went back to India after burying the gems.”
“He didn’t bury them, he put them in Yarbury’s Bank, dear. You forget.”
“Well, you know what I mean,” said Marie impatiently. “He hid the gems so that Julian Inderwick wouldn’t get them.”
“Yes; that’s old history. Well?”
“Well,” echoed Marie. “Simon Ferrier went back to tell George Inderwick where the jewels were to be found and never anticipated capture.”
“True, oh queen! But what does all this lead to?”
“To this! Simon Ferrier had arranged the enigma of the peacock before he left England, and at a time when he never anticipated that he would have any difficulty in speaking personally to his master.”
“I see what you mean. Well, my dear, all I can suppose is, that Ferrier was an over-cautious man, and made ready the enigma in case anything should prevent his reaching George Inderwick, as he certainly never did. When in captivity he worked out his scheme with the ring and the peacock exactly as he had planned it in England.”
“But there was no need to when he was here,” insisted Marie.
“No. But as I said before Simon Ferrier undoubtedly was an over-cautious man; witness the fact that he made so ingenious a cryptogram—if it can be called so—that even the man he designed to benefit could not solve it. And in its very ease lay its difficulty. I can’t answer your question in any other way, dear. Not that it matters. We have the money, and everything is right, so let us enjoy our good fortune, and be thankful that none of those wasteful ancestors of yours solved the riddle. Had they done so I fear you would not be so rich.”