The Green Mummy
engagement to the Professor. Mr. Hope? You here also. Well, I'm sure.”
Lucy grew impatient at all this babble.
“Did you not hear what I said, Mrs. Jasher?” she cried irritably. “Can't
you use your eyes? Look! The green mummy is in your arbor.”
“The--green--mummy--in--my--arbor,” repeated Mrs. Jasher, like a child
learning words of one syllable, and staring at the black object before
which the three were standing.
“As you see,” said Archie abruptly. “How did it come here?”
He spoke harshly. Of course, it was absurd to accuse Mrs. Jasher of
knowing anything about the matter, since she had been writing letters.
Still, the fact remained that a mummy, which had been thieved from a
murdered man, was in her arbor, and naturally she was called upon to
explain.
Some suspicion in his tone struck the little woman, and she turned on
him with indignation.
“How did it come here?” she repeated. “Now, how can I tell, you silly
boy. I have been writing to my lawyer about my engagement to Mr.
Braddock. I daresay he has told you.”
“Yes,” chimed in Miss Kendal, “and we came here to congratulate you,
only to find the mummy.”
“Is that the horrid thing?” Mrs. Jasher stared with all her eyes, and
timidly touched the hard green-stained wood.
“It's the case--the mummy is inside.”
“But I thought that the Professor opened the case to find the body of
poor Sidney Bolton,” argued Mrs. Jasher.
“That was a packing case in which this”--Archie struck the old-world
coffin--“was stored. But this is the corpse of Inca Caxas, about which
Don Pedro told us the other night. How does it come to be hidden in your
garden?”
“Hidden.” Mrs. Jasher repeated the word with a laugh. “There is not much
hiding about it. Why, every one can see it from the path.”
“And from the door of your house,” remarked Hope significantly. “Did you
not see it when you took leave of Braddock?”
“No,” snapped the widow. “If I had I should certainly have come to look.
Also Professor Braddock, who is so anxious to recover it, would not have
allowed it to remain here.”
“Then the case was not here when the Professor left you to-night?”
“No! He left me at eight o'clock to go home to dinner.”
“When did he arrive here?” questioned Hope quickly.
“At seven. I am sure of the time, for I was just sitting down to my
supper. He was here an hour. But he said nothing, when he entered, of
any mummy being in the arbor; nor when he left me at the door and I came
to say good-bye to him--did either of us see this object. To be sure,”
added Mrs. Jasher meditatively, “we did not look particularly in the
direction of this arbor.”
“I scarcely see how any one entering or leaving the garden could fail to
see it, especially as the snow reflects the moonlight so brightly.”
Mrs. Jasher shivered, and taking the skirt of her tea-gown, flung it
over her carefully attired head,
“It is very cold,” she remarked irritably. “Don't you think we had
better return to the house, and talk there?”
“What!” said Archie grimly, “and leave the mummy to be carried away
as mysteriously as it has been brought. No, Mrs. Jasher. That mummy
represents one thousand pounds of my money.”
“I understood that the Professor bought it himself.”
“So he did, but I supplied the purchase money. Therefore I do not intend
that this should be lost sight of again. Lucy, my dear, you run home
again and tell your father what we have found. He had better bring men,
to take it to his museum. When it is there, Mrs. Jasher can then explain
how it came to be in her garden.”
Without a word Lucy set off, walking quickly, anxious to fulfill her
mission and gladden the heart of her step-father with the amazing news.
Archie and Mrs. Jasher were left alone, and the former lighted a
cigarette, while he tapped the mummy case, and examined it as closely as
the pale gleam of the moonlight permitted. Mrs. Jasher made no move to
enter the house, much as she had complained of the cold. But perhaps she
found the flimsy skirt of the tea-gown sufficient protection.
“It seems to me, Mr. Hope,” said she very tartly, “that you suspect my
having a hand in this,” and she tapped the mummy coffin also.
“Pardon me,” observed Hope very politely, “but I suspect nothing,
because I have no grounds upon which to base my suspicions. But
certainly it is odd that this missing mummy should be found in your
garden. You will admit that much.”
“I admit nothing of the sort,” she rejoined coolly. “Only myself and
Jane live in the cottage, and you don't expect that two delicate women
could move this huge thing.” She tapped the case again. “Moreover, had I
found the mummy I should have taken it to the Pyramids at once, so as to
give Professor Braddock some pleasure.”
“It will certainly be an acceptable wedding present,” said Archie
sarcastically.
“Pardon me,” said Mrs. Jasher in her turn, “but I have nothing to do
with it as a present or otherwise. How the thing came into my arbor
I really cannot say. As I told you, Professor Braddock made no remark
about it when he came; and when he left, although I was at the door,
I did not notice anything in this arbor. Indeed I cannot say if I ever
looked in this direction.”
Archie mused and glanced at his watch.
“The Professor told Lucy that he came by the six train: you say that he
was here at seven.”
“Yes, and he left at eight. What is the time now?”
“Ten o'clock, or a few minutes after. Therefore, since neither you nor
Braddock saw the mummy, I take it that the case was brought here by some
unknown people between eight o'clock and a quarter to ten, about which
time I arrived here with Lucy.”
Mrs. Jasher nodded.
“You put the matter very clearly,” she observed dryly. “You have
mistaken your vocation, Mr. Hope, and should have been a criminal
lawyer. I should turn detective were I you.”
“Why?” asked Archie with a start.
“You might ascertain my movements on the night when the crime was
committed,” snapped the little widow. “A woman muffled in a shawl,
in much the same way as my head is now muffled in my skirt, talked to
Bolton through the bedroom window of the Sailor's Rest, you know.”
Hope expostulated.
“My dear lady, how you run on! I assure you that I would as soon suspect
Lucy as you.”
“Thank you,” said the widow very dryly and very tartly.
“I merely wish to point out,” went on Archie in a conciliatory tone,
“that, as the mummy in its case--as appears probable--was brought into
your garden between the hours of eight and ten, less fifteen minutes,
that you may have heard the voices or footsteps of those who carried it
here.”
“I heard nothing,” said Mrs. Jasher, turning towards the path. “I had my
supper, and played a game or two of patience, and then wrote letters,
as I told you before. And I am not going to stand in the cold, answering
silly questions, Mr. Hope. If you wish to talk you must come inside.”
Hope shook his head and lighted a fresh cigarette.
“I stand guard over this mummy until its rightful owner comes,” said he
determinedly.
“Ho!” rejoined Mrs. Jasher scornfully: she was now at the door. “I
understood that you bought the mummy and therefore were its owner. Well,
I only hope you'll find those emeralds Don Pedro talked about,” and with
a light laugh she entered the cottage.
Archie looked after her in a puzzled way. There was no reason to suspect
Mrs. Jasher, so far as he saw, even though a woman had been seen talking
to Bolton on the night of the crime. And yet, why should the widow refer
to the emeralds, which were of such immense value, according to Don
Pedro? Hope glanced at the case and shook the primitive coffin, anxious
for the moment to open it and ascertain if the jewels were still
clutched grimly in the mummy's dead hands. But the coffin was fastened
tightly down with wooden pegs, and could only be opened with extreme
care and difficulty. Also, as Hope reflected, even did he manage to
open this receptacle of the dead, he still could not ascertain if
the emeralds were safe, since they would be hidden under innumerable
swathings of green-dyed llama wool. He therefore let the matter rest
there, and, staring at the river, wondered how the mummy had been
brought to the garden in the marshes.
Hope recollected that experts had decided the mode in which the mummy
had been removed from the Pierside public-house. It had been passed
through the window, according to Inspector Date and others, and, when
taken across the narrow path which bordered the river, had been placed
in a waiting boat. After that it had vanished until it had re-appeared
in this arbor. But if taken by water once, it could have been taken by
water again. There was a rude jetty behind the embankment, which Hope
could easily see from where he stood. In all probability the mummy had
been landed there and carried to the garden, while Mrs. Jasher was busy
with her supper and her game of cards and her letters. Also, the path
from the shore to the house was very lonely, and if any care had been
exercised, which was probable, no one from the Fort road or from the
village street could have seen the stealthy conspirators bringing their
weird burden. So far Hope felt that he could argue excellently. But who
had brought the mummy to the garden and why had it been brought there?
These questions he could not answer so easily, and indeed not at all.
While thus meditating, he heard, far away in the frosty air, a puffing
and blowing and panting like an impatient motor-car. Before he could
guess what this was, Braddock appeared, simply racing along the marshy
causeway, followed closely by Cockatoo, and at some distance away by
Lucy. The little scientist rushed through the gate, which he flung open
with a noise fit to wake the dead, and lunged forward, to fall with
outstretched arms upon the green case. There he remained, still puffing
and blowing, and looked as though he were hugging a huge green beetle.
Cockatoo, who, being lean and hard, kept his breath more easily, stood
respectfully by, waiting for his master to give orders, and Lucy came
in quietly by the gate, smiling at her father's enthusiasm. At the same
moment Mrs. Jasher, well wrapped up in a coat of sables, emerged from
the cottage.
“I heard you coming, Professor,” she called out, hurrying down the path.
“I should think the whole Fort heard the Professor coming,” said Hope,
glancing at the dark mass. “The soldiers must think it is an invasion.”
But Braddock paid no heed to this jocularity, or even to Mrs. Jasher, to
whom he had been so lately engaged. All his soul was in the mummy case,
and as soon as he recovered his breath, he loudly proclaimed his joy at
this miraculous recovery of the precious article.
“Mine! mine!” he roared, and his words ran violently through the frosty
air.
“Be calm, sir,” advised Hope--“be calm.”
“Calm! calm!” bellowed Braddock, struggling to a standing position. “Oh,
confound you, sir, how can I be calm when I find what I have lost?
You have a mean, groveling soul, Hope, not the soaring spirit of a
collector.”
“There is no need to be rude to Archie, father,” corrected Lucy sharply.
“Rude! Rude! I am never rude. But this mummy.” Braddock peered closely
at it and rapped the wood to assure himself it was no phantom. “Yes!
it is my mummy, the mummy of Inca Caxas. Now I shall learn how the
Peruvians embalmed their royal dead. Mine! mine! mine!” He crooned like
a mother over a child, caressing the coffin; then suddenly drew himself
upright and fixed Mrs. Jasher with an indignant eye. “So it was you,
madam, who stole my mummy,” he declared venomously, “and I thought of
making you my wife. Oh, what an escape I have had. Shame, woman, shame!”
Mrs. Jasher stared, then her face grew redder than the rouge on her