“I should have done so, but that she declared her intention of destroying the ornament should I act in such a way. She said that she would drop it into the Thames—she was in London when I found out about her theft—or would melt it in fire. As the peacock is the sole clue to the hiding-place of the Begum’s gems, you may guess that with such a desperate woman I did not dare to act so drastically as she deserved.”
“I suppose she gave the peacock to her brother,” suggested Alan artfully, hoping that Sorley would commit himself by confessing the knowledge that Grison held the ornament at the time of his death. But the man did nothing of the sort.
“No, she didn’t,” he said sharply, “so far as I know she had it in her possession all these twenty years. I went again and again to see her and try for its recovery, but insisting that I had ruined her brother, she refused to surrender it, and lest she should destroy it, I could not use the force of the law. Now I am certain that he had it all the time.”
“Why are you certain?” asked Fuller, who was impressed by the frank way in which the man spoke. He certainly did not seem to have anything to conceal, and the solicitor wondered whether he had misjudged him.
Mr. Sorley waved his hand. “One moment,” he said slowly, “you may wonder why I am telling you all this, and why I have brought you into the matter? I do so, because you tell me that you are good at solving riddles, and also since you are in love with Marie you are bound to protect her interests. The jewels belong to her, so I am anxious that you should help me to find them, so that Marie may get the benefit of their sale. As she will have this house, her own income, and my collection of gems when I die, I do not think I am asking too much in requesting a share of the treasure, especially when that also will go to my niece after my death.”
Alan nodded, since all this was reasonable enough. “I know why you want me to help,” he remarked, “but without the peacock we can do nothing.”
Mr. Sorley rose and went to an alcove of the room in which was set a tall carved cupboard of black oak. Opening this he took out an object wrapped in chamois leather, and returned to the writing-table to display to his visitor’s astonished eyes, the missing peacock of jewels. “On that day when Miss Grison called me names, and by her own confession wandered over the house uninvited,” said the man quietly, “she must have brought this back. The day after she departed I found the peacock in yonder cupboard, a place where I frequently go, as Miss Grison knew. Why she should restore it in this stealthy way, or restore it at all, I am not able to say. But I know that she took it from here twenty years ago—from that cupboard in fact, where it was always kept—and her unasked-for visit to this house must have been to replace it.”
Alan stared at the glittering bird which was—as Latimer had stated—the size of a thrush, and greatly admired its beauty and perfection of workmanship. Ferrier assuredly had learned a great deal in the East, for the shape and feathers of the bird were truly wonderfully created in delicate lines. The eyes were rubies, and there was a tuft of emeralds on the head but comparatively few stones studded the body, as all were reserved for the glory of the tail. This was outspread like a large fan—and in it were set sapphires, opals, rubies, and many other precious stones which scintillated a glory like a rainbow, especially when Sorley moved the gems to and fro in the thread of sunlight which pierced the dusky atmosphere of the room. But what the young man thought, while he stared at the lovely object, was whether Sorley was guilty or innocent. The presence of the ornament which had been in the possession of the dead man hinted the former, but Sorley’s explanation—feasible enough on the basis of Miss Grison’s abrupt visit—seemed to declare the latter. As no man is considered guilty in English law until his criminality is proved, and as Alan was a solicitor, he gave Sorley the benefit of the doubt until such time as he had more trustworthy evidence to go upon. Having taken up this attitude he treated the man as innocent, and asked questions about the peacock. It was necessary to do so, if the riddle was to be solved.
“And, so far as I can see,” said Fuller, following his train of thought, “there is no secret writing to be seen.”
“There is no secret writing,” said Sorley unexpectedly.