“She is not afraid of Sorley.”
“Not now, because he doesn’t know—so far as we can see—that she stole the peacock.”
“But why did she tell me that? If I told Sorley——”
“Miss Grison knows that you are on her side, so to speak, and will not say anything to Sorley, who is dead against your marriage with Miss Inderwick.”
Alan ruffled his hair, as was his custom when perplexed. “I can make nothing of the matter,” he cried, greatly exasperated. “What’s to be done?”
“See Sorley at Christmas when you go down to Belstone,” advised Dick in a calm way, “and hear why he wants to discuss cryptograms with you. In that way you may get on the trail of the lost peacock.”
“But if Sorley has it, Miss Grison need not be afraid that he will ruin her, Dicky. If she is a thief, Sorley is a murderer.”
“We can’t be sure of that.”
“If he has the peacock we can be sure.”
“First catch your hare,” observed Latimer sententiously. “In other words, my son, wait and learn if Sorley has the thing. It’s no use theorizing, Alan; we can do nothing until we learn more. Bakche probably will call and see you, so we shall learn what he has to do with the matter.”