The Green Mummy
“Don Pedro and his daughter,” he said in an astonished voice, and sprang
forward to welcome the unexpected visitors.
“Now, my dear,” whispered the widow in Lucy's ear, “we shall see the
kind of woman Sir Frank prefers to you.”
“Well, as Sir Frank has seen the kind of man I prefer to him,” retorted
Lucy, “that makes us quite equal.”
“I am glad these new-comers talk English,” said Hope, who had risen to
his feet. “I know nothing of Spanish.”
“They are not Spanish, but Peruvian,” said Mrs. Jasher.
“The language is the same, more or less. Confound it! here is Random
bringing them here. I wish he would take them to the Fort. There's no
more work for the next hour, I suppose,” and Hope, rather annoyed, began
to pack his artistic traps.
On a nearer view, Don Pedro proved to be a tall, lean, dry man, not
unlike Dore's conception of Don Quixote. He must have had Indian blood
in his veins, judging from his very dark eyes, his stiff, lank hair,
worn somewhat long, and his high cheek-bones. Also, although he was
arrayed in puritanic black, his barbaric love of color betrayed itself
in a red tie and in a scarlet handkerchief which was twisted loosely
round a soft slouch hat, It was the hat and the brilliant red of tie and
handkerchief which had caught Mrs. Jasher's eye at so great a distance,
and which had led her to pronounce the man a stranger, for Mrs. Jasher
well knew that no Englishman would affect such vivid tints. All the
same, in spite of this eccentricity, Don Pedro looked a thorough
Castilian gentleman, and bowed gravely when presented to the ladies by
Random.
“Mrs. Jasher, Miss Kendal, permit me to present Don Pedro de Gayangos.”
“I am charmed,” said the Peruvian, bowing, hat in hand, “and in turn,
allow me, ladies, to introduce my daughter, Donna Inez de Gayangos.”
Archie was also presented to the Don and to the young lady, after which
Lucy and Mrs. Jasher, while not appearing to look, made a thorough
examination of the lady with whom Random was in love. No doubt Donna
Inez was making an examination on her own account, and with the
cleverness of the sex the three women, while chatting affably, learned
all that there was to be learned from the outward appearance of each
other in three minutes. Miss Kendal could not deny but what Donna Inez
was very beautiful, and frankly admitted--inwardly, of course--her own
inferiority. She was merely pretty, whereas the Peruvian lady was truly
handsome and quite majestic in appearance.
Yet about Donna Inez there was the same indefinite barbaric look
as characterized her father. Her face was lovely, dark and proud in
expression, but there was an aloofness about it which puzzled the
English girl. Donna Inez might have belonged to a race populating
another planet of the solar system. She had large black, melting eyes,
a straight Greek nose and perfect mouth, a well-rounded chin and
magnificent hair, dark and glossy as the wing of the raven, which was
arranged in the latest Parisian style of coiffure. Also, her gown--as
the two women guessed in an instant--was from Paris. She was perfectly
gloved and booted, and even if she betrayed somehow a barbaric taste for
color in the dull ruddy hue of her dress, which was subdued with black
braid, yet she looked quite a well-bred woman. All the same, her whole
appearance gave an observant onlooker the idea that she would be more
at home in a scanty robe and glittering with rudely wrought ornaments of
gold. Perhaps Peru, where she came from, suggested the comparison, but
Lucy's thoughts flew back to an account of the Virgins of the Sun, which
the Professor had once described. It occurred to her, perhaps wrongly,
that in Donna Inez she beheld one who in former days would have been the
bride of some gorgeous Inca.
“I fear you will find England dull after the sunshine of Lima,” said
Lucy, having ended a swift examination.
Donna Inez shivered a trifle and glanced around at the gray misty air
through which the pale sunshine struggled with difficulty.
“I certainly prefer the tropics to this,” she said in musical English,
“but my father has come down here on business, and until it is concluded
we shall remain in this place.”
“Then we must make things as bright as possible for you,” said Mrs.
Jasher cheerfully, and desperately anxious to learn more of the
new-comers. “You must come to see me, Donna Inez--yonder is my cottage.”
“Thank you, madame: you are very good.”
Meanwhile Don Pedro was talking to the two young men.
“Yes, I did arrive here earlier than I expected,” he was remarking, “but
I have to return to Lima shortly, and I wish to get my business with
Professor Braddock finished as speedily as possible.”
“I am sorry,” said Lucy politely, “but my father is absent.”
“And when will he return, Miss Kendal?”
“I can scarcely say--in a week or a fortnight.”
Don Pedro made a gesture of annoyance.
“It is a pity, as I am so very pressed for time. Still, I must remain
until the Professor returns. I am so anxious to hear if the mummy has
been found.”
“It is not found yet,” said Hope quickly, “and never will be.”
Don Pedro looked at him quietly.
“It must be found,” said he. “I have come all the way from Lima to
obtain it. When you hear my story you will not be surprised at my desire
to regain the mummy.”
“Regain it?” echoed Hope and Random in one breath.
Don Pedro nodded.
“The mummy was stolen from my father,” he said.
CHAPTER XI. THE MANUSCRIPT
It was certainly strange how constantly the subject of the missing
mummy came uppermost. Since it had disappeared and since the man who had
brought it to England was dead, it might have been thought that nothing
more would be said about the matter. But Professor Braddock harped
incessantly on his loss--which was perhaps natural--and Widow Anne also
talked a great deal as to the possibility of the mummy, being found,
as she hoped to learn by that means the name of the assassin who had
strangled her poor boy. Now Don Pedro de Gayangos appeared with the
strange information that the weird relic of Peruvian civilization had
been stolen from his father. Apparently fate was not inclined to let the
matter of the lost mummy drop, and was working round to a denouement,
which would possibly include the solution of the mystery of Sidney
Bolton's death. Yet, on the face of it, there appeared to be no chance
of the truth becoming known.
Of course, when Don Pedro announced that the Mummy had formerly belonged
to his father, every one was anxious to hear how it had been stolen. The
Gayangos family were established in Lima, and the embalmed body of Inca
Caxas had been purchased from a gentleman residing in Malta. How, then,
had it crossed the water, and how had Don Pedro learned its whereabouts,
only to arrive too late to secure his missing property? Mrs. Jasher was
especially anxious to learn these things, and explained her reasons to
Lucy.
“You see, my dear,” she said to the girl on the day after Don Pedro's
arrival in Gartley, “if we learn the past of that horrid mummy, we may
gain a clue to the person who desired possession of the nasty thing, and
so may hunt down this terrible criminal. Once he is found, the mummy may
be secured again, and should I be able to return it to your father, out
of gratitude he would certainly marry me.”
“You seem to think that the assassin is a man,” said Lucy dryly; “yet
you forget that the person who talked to Sidney through the window of
the Sailor's Rest was a woman.”
“An old woman,” emphasized Mrs. Jasher briskly: “quite so.”
Lucy contradicted.
“Eliza Flight did not say if the woman was old or young, but merely
stated that she wore a dark dress and a dark shawl over her head. Still,
this mysterious woman was connected in some way with the murder, else
she would not have been speaking to Sidney.”
“I don't follow you, my dear. You talk as though poor Mr. Bolton
expected to be murdered. For my part, I hold by the verdict of wilful
murder against some person or persons unknown. The truth is to be found,
if anywhere, in the past of the mummy.”
“We can discover nothing about that.”
“You forget what Don Pedro said, my dear,” remarked Mrs. Jasher hastily,
“that the mummy had been stolen from his father. Let us hear what he has
to say and we may find a clue. I am anxious that the Professor should
regain the green mummy for reasons which you know of. And now, my hear,
can you come to dinner to-night?”
“Well, I don't know.” Miss Kendal hesitated. “Archie said that he would
look in this evening.”
“I shall ask Mr. Hope also, my love. Don Pedro is coming and his
daughter likewise. Needless to say Sir Frank will follow the young lady.
We shall be a party of six, and after dinner we must induce Don Pedro to
relate the story of how the mummy was stolen.”
“He may not be inclined.”
“Oh, I think so,” replied; Mrs. Jasher quickly. “He wants to get the
mummy back again, and if we discuss the subject we may see some chance
of securing it.”
“But Don Pedro will not wish it to be restored to my father.”
Mrs. Jasher shrugged her plump shoulders.
“Your father and Don Pedro can arrange that themselves. All I desire is,
that the mummy should be found. Undoubtedly it belongs by purchase to
the Professor, but as it has been stolen, this Peruvian gentleman may
claim it. Well?”
“I shall come and Archie also,” assented Lucy, who was beginning to be
interested in the matter. “The affair is somewhat romantic.”
“Criminal, my dear, criminal,” said Mrs. Jasher, rising to take her
leave. “It is not a matter I care to mix myself up with. Still”--she
laughed--“you know, why I am doing so.”
“If I had to take all this trouble to gain a husband,” observed Lucy
somewhat acidly, “I should remain single all my life.”
“If you were as lonely as I am,” retorted the plump widow, “you would
do your best to secure a man toy look after you. I should prefer a young
and handsomer husband--such as Sir Frank Random, for instance but, as
beggars cannot be choosers, I must content myself with old age, a famous
scientist, and the chance of a possible title. Now mind, dear, to-night
at seven--not a minute later,” and she bustled away to prepare for the
reception of her guests.
It seemed to Lucy that Mrs. Jasher was taking a great deal of trouble to
become Mrs. Braddock, especially as the Professor's brother might live
for many a long day yet, in which case the widow would not gain the
title she coveted for years. However, the girl rather sympathized
with Mrs. Jasher, who was a companionable soul, and fond of society.
Circumstances condemned her to a somewhat lonely life in an isolated
cottage in a rather dull neighborhood, so it was little to be wondered
at that she should strive to move heaven and earth--as she was doing--in
the hope of escaping from her solitude. Besides, although Miss Kendal
did not wish to make a close companion of the widow, yet she did not
dislike her, and, moreover, thought that she would make Professor
Braddock a very presentable wife. Thinking thus, Lucy was quite willing
to forward Mrs. Jasher's plans by inducing Don Pedro to tell all he knew
about this missing mummy.
Thus it came about that six people assembled in the tiny pink parlor
of Mrs. Jasher at the hour of seven o'clock. It required dexterous
management to seat the whole company in the dining room, which was only
a trifle larger than the parlor. However, Mrs. Jasher contrived to place
them round her hospitable board in, a fairly comfortable fashion, and,
once seated, the dinner was so good that no one felt the drawbacks of
scanty elbow room. The widow, as hostess, was placed at the head of the
table; Don Pedro, as the eldest of the men, at the foot; and Sir Frank,
with Donna Inez, faced Archie and Lucy Kendal. Jane, who was well