The Green Mummy
gentleman dramatically waved his arm.
“A strange story,” said Archie, who was the first to speak, “and it
certainly solves at least one part of the mystery.”
“What is that?” demanded Mrs. Jasher quickly.
“It shows that the mummy was stolen on account of the emeralds.”
“Pardon me, but that is impossible, sir,” said Don Pedro, drawing up his
lean figure. “No one but myself knew that the mummy held two emeralds
in its dead hands, and I learned that only a few years ago from the
manuscript which I had the honor of showing you.”
“There is that objection assuredly,” replied Hope with composure. “Yet
I can hardly believe that any man would risk his neck to steal so
remarkable a mummy, which he would have a difficulty in disposing of.
But did this assassin know of the emeralds, he would venture much to
gain them, since jewels can be disposed of with comparative ease, and
cannot easily be traced.”
“All the same,” said Random, looking up, “I do not see how the assassin
could have learned that the jewels were wrapped in the bandages.”
“Humph!” said Hope, glancing at De Gayangos, “perhaps there is more than
one copy of this manuscript you speak of.”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“The sailor Vasa might have copied it.”
“No.” Don Pedro shook his head. “It is written in Latin, since a Spanish
priest taught the son of Inca Caxas, who wrote it, that language. I do
not think that Vasa knew Latin. Also, if Vasa had copied the manuscript,
he would have stripped the mummy to procure the jewels. Now, in the
newspaper advertisement it stated that the bandages of the mummy were
intact, as also was the verdant case. No,” said Don Pedro decisively, “I
am quite of opinion that Vasa, and indeed everyone else, was ignorant of
this manuscript.”
“It seems to me,” suggested Mrs. Jasher, “that it would be best to find
this sailor.”
“That,” remarked De Gayangos, “is impossible. It is twenty years since
he disappeared with the mummy. Let us drop the subject until Professor
Braddock returns to discuss it with me.” And this was accordingly done.
CHAPTER XII. A DISCOVERY
Three days went by, and Professor Braddock still remained absent in
London, although an occasional letter to Lucy requested such and such an
article from the museum to be forwarded, sometimes by post and on other
occasions by Cockatoo, who traveled up to town especially. The Kanaka
always returned with the news that his master was looking well, but
brought no word of the Professor's return. Lucy was not surprised, as
she was accustomed to Braddock's vagaries.
Meanwhile Don Pedro, comfortably established at the Warrior Inn,
wandered about Gartley in his dignified way, taking very little interest
in the village, but a great deal in the Pyramids. As the Professor was
absent, Lucy could not ask him to dinner, but she did invite him and
Donna Inez to afternoon tea. Don Pedro was anxious to peep into the
museum, but Cockatoo absolutely refused to let him enter, saying that
his master had forbidden anyone to view the collection during his
absence. And in this refusal Cockatoo was supported by Miss Kendal, who
had a wholesome dread of her step-father's rage, should he return and
find that a stranger had been making free of his sacred apartments. The
Peruvian gentleman expressed himself extremely disappointed, so much
so, indeed, that Lucy fancied he believed Braddock had the green mummy
hidden in the museum, in spite of the reported loss from the Sailor's
Rest.
Failing to get permission to range through the rooms of the Pyramids,
Don Pedro paid occasional visits to Pierside and questioned the police
regarding the Bolton murder. From Inspector Date he learned nothing of
any importance, and indeed that officer expressed his belief that not
until the Day of judgment would the truth become known. It then occurred
to De Gayangos to explore the neighborhood of the Sailor's Rest, and
to examine that public-house himself. He saw the famous window through
which the mysterious woman had talked to the deceased, and noted that
it looked across a stony, narrow path to the water's edge, wherefrom a
rugged jetty ran out into the stream for some little distance. Nothing
would have been easier, reflected Don Pedro, than for the assassin to
enter by the window, and, having accomplished his deed, to leave in the
same way, bearing the case containing the mummy. A few steps would carry
the man and his burden to a waiting boat, and once the craft slipped
into the mists on the river, all trace would be lost, as had truly
happened. In this way the Peruvian gentleman believed the murder and the
theft had been accomplished, but even supposing things had happened as
he surmised, still, he was as far as ever from unraveling the mystery.
While Don Pedro searched for his royal ancestor's corpse, and
incidentally for the thief and murderer, his daughter was being wooed by
Sir Frank Random. Heaven only knows what he saw in her--as Lucy observed
to young Hope--for the girl had not a word to say for herself. She was
undeniably handsome, and dressed with great taste, save for stray
hints of barbaric delight in color, doubtless inherited from her Inca
ancestors. All the same, she appeared to be devoid of small talk or
great talk, or any talk whatsoever. She sat and smiled and looked like
a handsome picture, but after her appearance had satisfied the eye,
she left much to be desired. Yet Sir Frank approved of her stately
quietness, and seemed anxious to make her his wife. Lucy, in spite of
the fact that he had so speedily got over her refusal to marry him, was
anxious that he should be happy with Donna Inez, whom he appeared to
love, and afforded him every opportunity of meeting the lady, so that
he might prosecute his wooing. All the same, she wondered that he should
desire to marry an iceberg, and Donna Inez, with her silent tongue and
cold smiles, was little else. However, as Frank Random was the
chief party concerned in the love-making--for Donna Inez was merely
passive--there was no more to be said.
Sometimes Hope came to dine at the Pyramids, and on these occasions
Mrs. Jasher was present in her character of chaperon. As Miss Kendal was
helping the widow to marry Professor Braddock, she in her turn did her
best to speed Archie's wooing. Certainly the young couple were engaged
and there was no understanding to be brought about. Nevertheless, Mrs.
Jasher was a useful article of furniture to be in the room when they
were together, for Gartley, like all English villages, was filled with
scandalmongers, who would have talked, had Hope and Lucy not employed
Mrs. Jasher as gooseberry. Sometimes Donna Inez came with the widow,
while her father was hunting for the mummy in Pierside, and then Sir
Frank Random would be sure to put in an appearance to woo his Dulcinea
in admiring silence. Mrs. Jasher declared that the two must have made
love by telepathy, for they rarely exchanged a word. But this was all
the better, as Archie and Lucy chattered a great deal, and two pair of
magpies--Mrs. Jasher declared--would have been too much for her nerves.
She made a very good chaperon, as she allowed the young people to act as
they pleased, only sanctioning the meetings by her elderly presence.
One evening Mrs. Jasher was due to dinner, and Hope had already arrived.
No one else was expected, as Don Pedro had taken his daughter to the
theatre at Pierside and Sir Frank had gone to London in connection with
his military duties. It was a bitterly cold night, and already a fall
of snow had hinted that there was to be a real English Christmas of
the genuine kind. Lucy had prepared an excellent dinner for three, and
Archie had brought a set of new patience cards for Mrs. Jasher, who was
fond of the game. While the widow played, the lovers hoped to make love
undisturbed, and looked forward to a happy evening. But there was one
drawback, for although the dinner hour was supposed to be eight o'clock,
and it was now thirty minutes past, Mrs. Jasher had not arrived. Lucy
was dismayed.
“What can be keeping her?” she asked Archie, to which that young
gentleman replied that he did not know, and, what was more, he did not
care. Miss Kendal very properly rebuked this sentiment. “You ought to
care, Archie, for you know that if Mrs. Jasher does not come to dinner,
you will have to go away.”
“Why should I?” he inquired sulkily.
“People will talk.”
“Let them. I don't care.”
“Neither do I, you stupid boy. But my father will care, and if people
talk he will be very angry.”
“My dear Lucy,” and Archie put his arm round her waist to say this, “I
don't see why you should be afraid of the Professor. He is only your
step-father, and you aren't so very fond of him as to mind what he says.
Besides, we can marry soon, and then he can go hang.”
“But I don't want him to go hang,” she replied, laughing. “After all,
the Professor has always been kind to me, and as a step-father has
behaved very well, when he could easily have made himself disagreeable.
Another thing is that he can be very bad tempered when he likes, and if
I let people talk about us--which they will do if they get a chance--he
will behave so coldly to me, that I shall have a disagreeable time. As
we can't marry for ever so long, I don't want to be uncomfortable.”
“We can marry whenever you like,” said Hope unexpectedly.
“What, with your income so unsettled?”
“It is not unsettled.”
“Yes, it is. You will help that horrid spendthrift uncle of yours, and
until he and his family are solvent I don't see how we can be sure of
our money.”
“We are sure of it now, dearest. Uncle Simon has turned up trumps after
all, and so have his investments.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean that yesterday I received a letter from him saying that he was
now rich, and would pay back all I had lent him. I went up to London
to-day, and had an interview. The result of that is that I am some
thousands to the good, that Uncle Simon is well off for the rest of his
life and will require no more assistance, and that my three hundred a
year is quite clear for ever and ever and ever.”
“Then we can marry,” cried Miss Kendal with a gasp of delight.
“Whenever you choose--next week if you like.”
“In January then--just after Christmas. We'll go on a trip to Italy and
return to take a flat in London. Oh, Archie, I am sorry I thought so
badly of your uncle. He has behaved very well. And what a mercy it is
that he will require no more assistance! You are sure he will not.”
“If he does, he won't get it,” said Hope candidly. “While I was a
bachelor I could assist him; but when I am married I must look after
myself and my wife.” He gave Lucy a hug. “It's all right now, dear,
and Uncle Simon has behaved excellently--far better than I expected.
We shall go to Italy for the honeymoon and need not hurry back until
we--well, say until we quarrel.”
“In that case we shall live in Italy for the rest of our lives,” said
Lucy with twinkling eyes; “but we must come back in a year and take a
studio in Chelsea.”
“Why not in Gartley? Remember, the Professor will be lonely.”
“No, he won't. Mrs. Jasher, as I told you, intends to marry him.”
“He might not wish to marry her”
“That doesn't matter,” rejoined Lucy, with the cleverness of a woman.
“She can manage to bring the marriage about. Besides, I want to break
with the old life here, and begin quite a new one with you. When I
am your wife and Mrs. Jasher is my step-father's, everything will be
capitally arranged.”
“Well, I hope so,” said Archie heartily, “for I want you all to myself
and have no desire to share you with anyone else. But I say,” he glanced
at his watch; “it is getting towards nine o'clock, and I am desperately
hungry. Can't we go to dinner?”
“Not until Mrs. Jasher arrives,” said Lucy primly.