“You know that Miss Grison hates me, and why?” he demanded shortly.
“Yes. She accuses you of having ruined her brother by having dismissed him wrongfully.”
“Quite so, and acts like a mad woman in consequence. As if I could help the man going to the bad. I gave him every chance, and instead of prosecuting him for forging that check I let him go free. I don’t see that I could have behaved better. That he sank to the Rotherhithe slum was purely his own fault.”
“Miss Grison doesn’t think so.”
“She can think what she chooses,” retorted Sorley, coolly. “I need take no notice of the vagaries of a crazy creature such as she surely is.” He paused, and looked oddly at his companion. “Do you know why I dismissed her brother, Alan?”
“You have just explained; because of the forged check.”
“That is not the exact cause. I could have overlooked that, since I really was sorry for the poor wretch, even though he was rude to my sister, and a decided nuisance in this house with his drunken habits and use of opium. My real reason for dismissing him was that Miss Grison—Louisa as we used to call her—stole the peacock of jewels.”
“Oh,” said Fuller with a non-committal air, for he wished to know more about the theft before stating that Miss Grison had confessed to it. And even when he knew all he was not sure if he would be thus frank.
“Yes! she knew how I valued it, both because of its workmanship and the gems set in its golden body, and because it is the clue to a large treasure which was hidden—you know the story—by Simon Ferrier. I told her that if she did not return it I would dismiss her brother on account of the forged check. She refused and I did dismiss him, so she really has only herself to thank for Baldwin’s downfall, although, like a woman, she blames me in the silly way she does.”
“But if she took the peacock why didn’t you have her arrested?”