THE TREASURE HUNT
“Have you the papers, Alan?”
“Yes dear.”
“And the key which came out of that box?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Then I have the golden peacock in this bag of Uncle Ran’s,” ended
Marie, quite satisfied that all was well.
With Fuller she occupied a first-class carriage of the London express
from Lewes, and the two had it all to themselves, since Alan had bribed
the guard to keep out other passengers. As the lovers were so excited
over their solution of the riddle and their discovery—if not of the
treasure—at least of certain evidence that the same existed, it was
little to be wondered at that they could talk of nothing else. Hence
the necessity for a compartment all to themselves, for they did not
wish anyone else to know of their newly-acquired fortune, until it was
in their own possession. Then Alan intended to advertise the affair far
and wide through the medium of the daily newspapers, so that Mr.
Sorley—wherever he might be—should become cognizant of the fact, as
well as Mr. Morad-Bakche. It was just as well to let both these
gentlemen know that Miss Inderwick had the jewels, and intended to keep
them. Fuller was quite certain that he could safeguard her interests in
every way, should the Indian try to gain what he had come so far to
seek. As to Mr. Sorley, that gentleman being in his present straits,
scarcely counted. But Marie wished him to know the truth, as she
believed he would then return. Alan was of a different opinion.
On the previous evening there had been great excitement at the vicarage
when the lovers returned from their investigations and told the story
of how they had guessed the riddle together, besides narrating, with
much wealth of detail, the search down the well. Both Mr. and Mrs.
Fuller had expressed the greatest surprise, as well they might, and
both congratulated Marie on her good fortune. If indeed the jewels—as
was hinted in Ferrier’s story—were worth from one to two hundred
thousand pounds, she would indeed be able to restore the family
prestige and repair The Monastery. And then, as Marie intimated firmly,
she intended to become Alan’s wife, a declaration which Mrs. Fuller
received with unfeigned joy, as she loved Marie as fondly as though she
were her own flesh and blood. The vicar also was gratified, as of
course if his son became the Squire of Belstone, that fact would help
him greatly in controlling the parish.
On the whole they had a very happy evening, and when Marie returned to
The Monastery, she could not close an eye. Also next morning when Alan
met her to catch the express, she informed him that she had heard
strange noises during the night, and had been rather terrified. But of
these things the two did not talk much until they were travelling
towards London, and until Marie had assured herself that both she and
Alan possessed the necessary articles to secure possession of the
jewels. There was the letter of Simon Ferrier, and the signed agreement
that the gems belonged to George Inderwick, besides a curiously shaped
brass key which was supposed to open the box of gems now at Yarbury’s
Bank, Monks Lane, Cheapside, London. Finally Marie held tightly on to
the bag which contained the golden peacock without the production of
which she would not be able to take the jewels away, as she intended to
do.
“And I only hope,” said Alan, when they were both satisfied that all
was in order, “that Yarbury’s Bank is still in existence.”
“Oh, Alan! I hope so. Why shouldn’t it be?”
“Well the jewels were deposited there one hundred and fifty years ago
more or less my dear, and it is possible that the bank may have
smashed. There have been plenty of panics during the century.”
“What would have become of the gems had the bank smashed?” asked Marie
in a timid and rather tearful voice, for it was a terrible thought to
think that her dreams might dissolve into thin air.
Alan shrugged his shoulders. “Really, my dear, I can’t say. They might
be passed on to another bank, or might remain with the reconstructed
old one. On the other hand they may have been stolen and dispersed. I
never heard tell of Yarbury’s Bank myself; but then I am not closely
acquainted with what goes on in the city.”
“I daren’t think of it not being there,” shuddered Miss Inderwick. “Oh
it would be a shame if we lost everything at the eleventh hour.”
“Well,” said Fuller with a philosophy he was very far from feeling,
“let us hope for the best, and talk of other things until we arrive at
Monks Lane. These noises, Marie? weren’t you dreaming?”
“No, dear, no. Certainly not. I was wide awake. I fancied I heard a
scream; it sounded like the cry of a woman in distress. Then there were
footsteps—muffled footsteps far below. Of course The Monastery is
haunted, so I thought it was the ghosts.”
“Are there more than one?” asked Alan, suppressing a skeptical smile.
“Oh yes. There are two monks, and one cavalier, and a lady who has no
head at all,” said Marie solemnly. “Granny knows all the stories, and
some of them are just horrid. This morning when I told her about the
noises, she said that Henny and Jenny and she had heard them several
times during the last week, but she believed they were only the ghosts.
Granny is quite proud that we should have them, as we are such an old
family.”
Alan shuddered. “Well, dear, I sincerely hope that when we live at The
Monastery, these uneasy spirits will take their departure. I don’t
believe in ghosts; all the same, I don’t like odd noises. Marie,” he
sat up suddenly as a thought struck him.
“I know what you’re going to say, Alan,” she cried quickly.
“What?” He looked at her sharply.
“That the noises might have been made by Uncle Ran.”
“Yes I did, my dear. It is just possible that he may have come back
secretly to The Monastery, knowing that Moon would not search there.
And a very good idea it would be if he did; safe as houses.”
Marie shook her head solemnly. “No. If Uncle Ran had returned he would
have let me know, since he could be certain that I would not betray
him. And he would require food and drink, which would be another reason
for him to let me know he was hiding. No, Alan. I tell you the cry I
heard was that of a woman, and I believe that Miss Grison is in the
house.”
Fuller stared. “What on earth put that into your head?”
“Well, she knows all the secret passages and chambers of The Monastery
better than I do, since she lived there for so long before I was born.
As Uncle Ran had the peacock, she may have thought that he left it
behind, and may have come down to steal it. She uttered that cry I am
sure.”
“I don’t think so,” said Fuller scouting the idea, “She wouldn’t be
such a fool, Marie. However, when we have been to Yarbury’s Bank—if the
blessed place still exists, that is—we can drive to Thimble Square, and
see if she is in or out of London.”
“She’s out of it, and in The Monastery,” cried Miss Inderwick very
decisively, “It’s no use talking, Alan, I am sure it was she I heard
screaming. And if she is there—which I am sure of—she will probably let
that horrid Indian into the house, so that he can take the peacock. I
sha’n’t sleep there to-night, Alan, but at the vicarage, I don’t want
to be murdered by that Mr. Bakche as he murdered poor——”
“Marie, that is all theoretical.”
“I don’t care, it is true,” insisted Marie, and although Fuller argued
the point until they arrived at Victoria Station, she still held to her
opinion, rather to the young man’s annoyance. He had not thought Miss
Inderwick was so obstinate, and told her as much in a most provoking
manner, whereat the girl pouted. Of course Alan had to kiss her into a
more amiable mood and admit that he was entirely wrong, and make sundry
apologies for being the most disagreeable man in the world. The two
were driving along Piccadilly in a taxi, before this comedy was
finished, as such comedies always do, with the subjugation of the
stronger by the weaker. “And you’re quite horrid, aren’t you?” finished
Marie, pinching his arm.
“Quite,” admitted Alan gravely.
“And I’m an angel.”
“Rather; an archangel if you like!”
“Then I forgive you, dear. No, don’t kiss me. You’ll spoil the set of
my hat, and make the driver turn round. And—and—oh Alan,” she suddenly
dropped her bantering tone and became anxious. “I do hope Yarbury’s
Bank is in existence. Where did you tell the man to drive to?”
“Monks Lane, Cheapside, dear. As he is doing so, thank heaven _that_ is
yet in existence. So much we have to be thankful for.”
In Cheapside, and at the entrance of a narrow side street which the
driver assured them was the lane in question, they alighted, and walked
down it after the taxi had been dismissed. Both Marie and Alan crooked
their necks staring upward to see the much-desired name; but not
finding it, the lawyer asked an office-boy who came out of a near
building if he could direct him to Yarbury’s Bank. To the relief of the
couple, an answer came terse and sharp, that it was number twenty, just
round the corner, which meant that the place was situated where the
lane suddenly, so to speak, crooked an elbow.
“Oh thank goodness!” murmured Marie, when they came face to face with a
very dingy building, black with age and grime, and wedged in between
two tall houses which overtopped it considerably. “It’s Yarbury’s!”
“Sure enough,” replied Fuller, staring hard at the wire blinds—half
blinds they were—which displayed the magic name in dull gold letters.
“Cheer up, Marie; since the bank is here, we are certain to find the
treasure.”
“I hope so,” answered the girl doubtfully, “but I shall believe nothing
until I see the gems with my very own eyes.”
Alan laughed, and led the way into a broad and low room of vast
proportions filled with mahogany counters, protected by shining brass
railings, and a number of desks, high and low, with shaded electric
lamps over each; for the place was darkish even at noon. A number of
clerks were busy with the usual business of the bank, and two or three
customers were paying in, and drawing out money. On inquiring if the
manager could be seen, a message was sent and an answer received that
the great man would accord an interview to the strangers. Alan sent in
his card and that of Miss Inderwick, and after another short delay the
two were conducted into a fair-sized room at the very back of the
building, to be welcomed by an elderly gentleman with white hair and a
brisk expression. He was small and neat and very well dressed, and his
manners were scrupulously polite. Yet as he placed a couple of chairs
for his visitors, Alan noticed that he cast a curious glance at Marie.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, addressing himself to Fuller.
“You are the manager of Yarbury’s Bank?” inquired Alan rather
unnecessarily, but anxious to be quite sure of his ground.
“Certainly. Berwick is my name, and I have been in charge for some
years.”
“It is a very old bank, isn’t it?” asked Marie timidly.
“Very, my dear young lady!”
“One hundred and fifty years more or less,” put in Fuller suddenly.
“More rather than less,” said Mr. Berwick with a genial smile, “but how
do you know, Mr.—er,” he glanced at the card lying on his table, “Mr.
Fuller?”
“If you know the name of Inderwick, Mr. Berwick, you may have some idea
of how I come to know.”
Again Berwick cast a look in Marie’s direction. “Inderwick! Yes, I do
know that name. It was mentioned in the newspapers some little time
ago, and had to do with a murder case connected with Rotherhithe.”
“And with a peacock,” said Marie quickly.
“Yes.” Berwick scratched his chin meditatively. “It was supposed—I am
quoting from the newspapers—that the man at Rotherhithe was murdered
for the sake of the peacock, not a living bird, of course, but a
certain ornament.”
Marie nodded. “Which is the luck of our family,” she finished.
“Oh, then you are one of the Inderwicks of Belstone?”
“Yes,” said Alan slowly, “she is the last representative of the family,
and the heiress of George Inderwick. Do you know that name?”
“I do,” assented Berwick alertly. “On reading the newspapers it led to
my recalling certain transactions, which—but pardon me.” Mr. Berwick
interrupted himself, “how can I be sure that this is Miss Inderwick?”
Marie was about to indignantly assert that she alone had the right to
the name, when Alan prevented her. “That is a very natural question,
sir,” he remarked, opening the black bag, “perhaps this will assure you
of the identity of this young lady.”
Berwick stared when the peacock in all its glittering glory was placed
under the electric light, and his ruddy face grew a trifle pale as he
pushed back his chair uneasily. “It’s the peacock,” he muttered.
“You know about the peacock then?” questioned Alan sharply.
“Yes! When taking charge of the affairs of Yarbury’s Bank I looked into
all business old and new; also searching amongst old documents and
examining deeds and papers dealing with various transactions which are
in our strong-rooms below. I came across the account of the peacock,
and the meaning of the peacock, belonging to George Inderwick, although
a certain box which had to do with that bird was placed here by Simon
Ferrier.”
“Inderwick’s servant,” said Alan dryly, “hum! it seems to me that we
are on the right track, Marie.”
She nodded again, but Mr. Berwick, who still seemed much perturbed,
moistened his lips and spoke unsteadily. “I can certainly supply you
with information, which I can guess you require; but before doing so, I
should like to send for Inspector Moon.”
“But why——” began Marie hotly, only to be interrupted by her lover.
“I quite understand what you mean, Mr. Berwick,” he said calmly, “and,
of course, under the circumstances, it is necessary that you should
take every precaution to safeguard the interests of the bank.”
“Precaution, Mr. Fuller?” stammered the manager uneasily.
“I also,” continued the lawyer imperturbably, “have read the account in
the newspapers of the interview with Miss Louisa Grison. She declared
therein that if the peacock were discovered, the assassin of her
brother could be brought to justice. Is that not so?”
“Yes,” admitted Berwick readily, “it is so.”
“Since we have brought the peacock, which it is necessary to do, in
order for Miss Inderwick to obtain possession of the box deposited here
over one hundred years ago by Simon Ferrier, you naturally wish to know
how we come to possess it.”
“But surely Mr. Berwick doesn’t think that we murdered Mr. Grison to
obtain this,” said Marie indignantly, touching the glowing splendor of
the bird.
“No! no! no!” the manager assured her hastily, “nothing was further
from my thoughts, my dear young lady. But, as Mr. Fuller sensibly
observes, it is necessary for me to safeguard the interests of the
bank.”
“All the same you did think that I or Mr. Fuller had killed Mr.
Grison,” persisted Marie, her obstinacy again coming uppermost.
“No! really, really——”
“Never mind,” remarked Alan impatiently, and cutting short the man’s
protestations, “it is natural that Mr. Berwick should suspect us, in
the face of Miss Grison’s statement. Better send for Inspector Moon,
who has charge of the Rotherhithe case; and also I must ask you to send
to the office of _The Latest News_ for Richard Latimer.”
“Why?” asked the man rising and staring. “Because he can prove how I
became possessed of the peacock.”
“I shall do what you ask, and you will excuse me, Mr. Fuller, if I am
rather punctilious in dealing with the matter.”
“I quite understand, Mr. Berwick. The affair is an odd one, and when we
tell you what we know, you will find it even odder than you suspect. In
the meantime, please telephone for Mr. Latimer and Inspector Moon,
mentioning my name to both of them, and Miss Inderwick’s also, if you
like.”
With a look of wonder written all over his ruddy face Berwick departed
and personally telephoned for the two necessary persons in question.
Marie rather fumed while he was absent, as woman-like she expected to
be taken as genuine on her bare word. “He thinks we are swindlers,” she
said crossly.
“And small blame to him,” rejoined Alan good-humoredly, for it was
evident that the gems were all right, as he judged from Berwick’s
hints. “You can’t expect the man, my dear, to hand over thousands of
pounds worth of jewels without making inquiries.’
“The peacock is enough,” said Marie stubbornly.
“The peacock is the cause of the trouble,” retorted her lover; “but
here is Mr. Berwick. Well, sir?”
“I have received a reply from both,” said the manager, resuming his
seat, and looking apologetically at Marie, “they will be here as soon
as possible. Pardon me taking these precautions, and perhaps while you
are waiting for Inspector Moon and Mr. Latimer, you will explain how
you came to find out that the box of Ferrier was in our bank?”
“We guessed the riddle,” said Marie suddenly.
“Oh!” Berwick looked at the peacock in a puzzled way. “I knew from what
the newspapers said that there was a riddle to be solved, although I
can’t see what this golden ornament has to do with it. Did you not know
that the box was at Yarbury’s Bank?” he addressed Miss Inderwick.
“No; nor did anyone else, Mr. Berwick. Only when Mr. Fuller and I
guessed the riddle did we learn the whereabouts of the box. It is here
then?”
“Certainly,” Mr. Berwick assured her promptly, “and has been here for
over one hundred years. When I looked into matters on taking charge of
the bank, I, like all former managers, became acquainted with the fact
that a box of jewels had been deposited with us by Simon Ferrier on
behalf of his master, George Inderwick, shortly after the Battle of
Plassey. We have the letter of instructions concerning it.”
“What are the instructions?” asked Alan.
“The box of jewels is to be held by the bank authorities, whom I at
present represent, until someone brings a certain golden peacock
studded with gems, certain papers explaining the peacock, and others
dealing with the transfer of the jewels from the Rajah and Begum of Kam
to George Inderwick, and finally a key which will fit the box.”
Marie looked at Alan, who brought out the objects named. “There you
are, Mr. Berwick,” and he placed them under the manager’s very nose.
“Oh, ah, excuse me,” said Berwick, deeply interested at the sight of
the old documents, and forthwith devoted himself to reading them. As
the English was odd, to say the least of it, and the handwriting was
crabbed—apparently that of a somewhat uneducated person—he was some
time deciphering what was before him. Both Marie and Alan waited his
pleasure quietly. “I am quite satisfied,” he said when he finished his
reading, “that these are the necessary papers, and the key can speak
for itself if it fits the lock of the steel box. Meanwhile, and until
our two friends arrive, Mr. Fuller, perhaps you and Miss Inderwick will
explain how you came to guess the riddle which is referred to in the
letter from Simon Ferrier to his master.”
“And you can tell him also how we come to have the peacock,” said
Marie, who still felt annoyed by the suspicious attitude of Berwick,
although that was considerably modified by the production of the papers
and the key.
“No,” said Alan decisively, “I shall tell that when Moon and Latimer
arrive; there is no need to repeat the story twice. But it will serve
to while away the time if we tell Mr. Berwick about the riddle.”
“Certainly it will,” said the manager in a lively tone; “and don’t be
angry with me, Miss Inderwick, I must protect the interests of the
bank, you know.”
Marie smiled and began to be somewhat ashamed of her irritation. “You
must excuse me, Mr. Berwick,” she said cleverly, “but the discovery of
my fortune has somewhat excited my nerves.”
“Very natural, very natural indeed. Well, Mr. Fuller, what about the
riddle?”
Fuller lost no time, but related the various stages by which he and
Marie had been led to guess the mystery of the peacock’s tail. He
produced the silver ring by way of illustration, and finally convinced
Mr. Berwick of the manner in which the secret had been discovered. “And
the annoying part of the whole business,” concluded Alan, “is that the
riddle is so easy.”
“When guessed, Mr. Fuller, when guessed,” said Berwick staring at the
peacock, “but I assure you that I don’t wonder it has been hard to
solve, and had not the accident of the silver ring, or rather that of
the letter ‘K’ on the silver ring led you to the truth, I doubt if you
would ever have solved it.” Berwick still eyed the bird steadily. “Most
extraordinary! Ferrier was too clever, however, if I may say so; he
concealed the treasure so well that the man he intended to benefit
never did. Fate——” he bowed gallantly to Marie—— “reserved the gems of
the Begum for fairer hands.”
“Then you will give me the box,” said Marie, timidly.
“Of course; it rightfully belongs to you, since you have fulfilled the
conditions of Ferrier’s letter of instructions to the then manager of
Yarbury’s Bank. Here is the key, the peacock, the letter of Ferrier to
his master, and the assignment of the jewels to the same person by the
rulers of Kam. Oh yes, Miss Inderwick, the fortune is yours, and I
congratulate you.”
“What is the value of the jewels?” asked Alan abruptly, and drawing a
breath of relief when he heard this speech.
“Really I can’t tell you, Mr. Fuller. There is no mention of their
value in the letter of instructions, and of course the box has never
been open, since only the key you have brought can do that. Then——”
Berwick was interrupted by a clerk entering with a card inscribed with
the name of Latimer, and Dick entered all alive with curiosity to hear
why he had been summoned to such an unexpected place. After greeting
Miss Inderwick and his friend he began to ask eager questions, which
Alan proceeded to answer, until Inspector Moon arrived a few moments
later. The officer opened his eyes wide when he saw the golden peacock
on the table.
“How did it come here?” he asked suspiciously, and looked at the
company.
Berwick explained the circumstances of Alan and Miss Inderwick’s visit,
and gave both Moon and Latimer an account of the trust held by
Yarbury’s Bank. Then Fuller explained more directly about the peacock.
“Sorley called at my chambers on that night he escaped,” said Alan,
addressing the astonished inspector. “Mr. Latimer and I took him to
Miss Grison as he wished her to acknowledge certain things. He intended
to give himself up, but—as I learned—he ran away at the eleventh hour.
Have you arrested him yet, Mr. Inspector?”
“No. We have searched far and wide, but he is still at large. Still,
Mr. Fuller, this explanation doesn’t show how you became possessed of
the peacock.”
“Mr. Sorley left it behind in this black bag,” said Alan readily, “you
may remember, Mr. Inspector, that when you were taking him away, he
called out to me to remember the black bag. I did not know what he
meant, but when Mr. Latimer and I returned to our chambers, we found
the bag there, and in it the golden peacock.”
This seemed satisfactory to Moon, especially as Latimer vouched for the
truth of the story. “Sorley is undoubtedly guilty,” he remarked, and
Alan had to press Marie’s arm to prevent her bursting out with an
indignant denial, “but you should have brought the peacock to me.”
“Not at all, Mr. Inspector,” said Fuller coolly and resolutely, “that
is the property of Miss Inderwick here, and was stolen by Miss Grison
over twenty years ago, because she thought that Mr. Sorley had treated
her brother in a cruel way. It is only just that it should return to
its owner, and I don’t think that you can take possession of it.”
“No,” said Moon reluctantly, “I suppose not, since Miss Inderwick
certainly possesses it legally, and came by it—according to your story,
vouched for by Mr. Latimer—in a perfectly honest way. I understand from
hints given, Mr. Fuller, that you have solved the riddle alluded to by
Miss Grison in her published statement.”
“Have you, Fuller?” asked Latimer in excited tones.
“Yes. Marie and I found it out, more by accident than in any logical
way, Dick. See here!” and to Moon and the other man Fuller explained
the method pursued, and showed the meaning of the precious stones in
the tail of the bird. Berwick chuckled and rubbed his hands at the
astonishment displayed by the newcomers, then quietly left the room.
While Moon and Latimer were still expressing their surprise, and
examining the bird, Berwick returned with one of the clerks carrying a
good-sized box.
“Here are the jewels,” he said expansively, when the clerk had been
dismissed, and the box was placed on the table. “Use the key, Miss
Inderwick.”
They all crowded round to admire the box, which in itself was really
curious and artistic. It was of polished steel, greatly tarnished by
damp and age and sundry batterings which might be ascribed to its
career in India before Ferrier had used it to store the jewels. The
steel was enclosed in a network of delicate brass, scrolled and twisted
and plaited and woven in a most elaborate manner. It was deep and
rather large, which augured well for the quantity of gems it contained.
Marie with a fluttering heart inserted the key, while the others looked
on eagerly. She had some difficulty in turning it, since the lock had
not been used for so long; but Alan aided her with his strong wrist,
and with a click the key did its work. Then appeared the sandalwood
lining of the box and a rich piece of Indian silk covering the
contents. Miss Inderwick twitched this away, and a cry of amazement and
admiration rose from everyone. In the glare of the light a perfect
glory of color and radiance flashed out.
“Why, there must be a million pounds’ worth,” muttered Moon,
astonished.
He might well say so, for the sight was enough to bewilder a miser. No
pearls were visible, as they would have lost their color in the long
darkness to which the gems had been submitted. But there were emeralds,
rubies, sapphires and opals of many hues. Some of the precious stones
were loose and polished, while others, also loose, were uncut. Still
many jewels were set in various golden and silver ornaments, such as
nose-rings, bangles, anklets, brooches, belts, and adornments for the
head. Four trays piled with these treasures were lifted from the box,
and at the very bottom, lying on a pad of rose-colored silk, were many
loose diamonds glittering with multi-hued fires like the suns of
innumerable solar systems. It was a royal heritage that Marie had
entered into possession of, and worthy of a princess.
“And all for you and me, Alan,” she whispered, joyously slipping her
hand into that of her lover. “No more trouble now, dear.”
“Well,” said Moon, reflectively. “I don’t wonder that Sorley risked his
neck for an Arabian Nights’ heap of jewels of this sort.”
“He did not,” cried Miss Inderwick, who could not be restrained this
time; “my uncle is perfectly innocent.”
“For your sake I sincerely trust that he is, Miss Inderwick,” said Moon
in grave tones; “and I hope he will prove your trust in him by giving
himself up to the law. But this is not the time or place to talk of
these things, and I do not wish to spoil your pleasure in inheriting a
fortune of gems sufficiently beautiful to make a queen envious.”
“I shall devote the fortune to proving my uncle’s innocence,” said
Marie haughtily and stubbornly. “In the meanwhile, Mr. Berwick, put the
box back in your strong-room along with tile peacock.”
“Don’t you wish to take it away with you?” asked Alan quickly.
“No. I don’t like those noises in The Monastery, and I am sure that
Miss Grison and that horrid Indian have something to do with them. If I
took the gems down she and he would steal them.”
“Noises,” repeated Inspector Moon reflectively, “and in Mr. Sorley’s
house?”
“It is my house,” said Marie quickly, “and if Miss Grison is down
there, I shall order her out.”
“You will be quite right in doing so, Miss Inderwick,” said Inspector
Moon with a bow, “and now I shall take my leave with renewed
congratulations.”
He went out repeating under his breath the word “Noises!” and Alan
overhearing guessed that Marie’s statement had aroused his suspicions
as to the whereabouts of the much-wanted Sorley. He hoped that, after
all, these same noises were due to Miss Grison, and felt anxious to
call at Thimble Square after the box of gems and the peacock had been
carried back to the strong-room of Yarbury’s Bank.
“Let us visit Miss Grison now, Marie,” he said when they were in Monks
Lane again, with Dick beside them.
“You won’t find her at home,” said Latimer. “I called, but she has gone
away.”
Marie turned triumphantly to Alan. “There!” she cried, “what did I tell
you, my dear? That horrid woman is hiding in The Monastery after all.”