The Green Mummy
happened. Perhaps the young medical man had an eye to becoming better
known, for the improvement of his practice; but he certainly seemed
anxious to take a prominent part in the proceedings connected with the
murder of Mrs. Jasher.
When Robinson parted from them, Random and Hope went to the lodgings of
the latter, so as to read over the confession and learn exactly to what
extent Mrs. Jasher had been mixed up in the tragedy of the green mummy.
She had declared herself innocent even on her death-bed, and so far
as the two could judge at this point, she certainly had not actually
strangled Sidney Bolton. But it might be--and it appeared to be more
than probable--that she was an accessory after the fact. But this they
could learn from the confession, and they sat in Hope's quiet little
sitting-room, in which the fire had been just lighted by the artist's
landlady, with the scattered sheets neatly ranged before them.
“Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee, or a whisky and soda,”
suggested Archie, “before starting to read?”
“I should,” assented Random, who looked weary and pale. “The events of
the night have somewhat knocked me up. Coffee for choice--nice, black,
strong, hot coffee.”
Hope nodded and went to order the same. When he returned he sat down,
after closing the door carefully, and proceeded to read. But before he
could speak Random raised his hand.
“Let us chat until the coffee comes in,” he said; “then we shall not be
interrupted when reading.”
“All right,” said Hope. “Have a cigar!”
“No, thanks. I have been smoking all the night. I shall sit here by the
fire and wait for the coffee. You look chippy yourself.”
“And small wonder,” said Archie wearily. “We little thought when we left
the Fort last night what a time we were going to have. Fancy Mrs. Jasher
having sent you the emerald after all!”
“Yes. She repented, as she said, and yet I dare say--as she also
said--she was sorry that she acted on her impulse. If she had not been
stabbed by that damned Cockatoo, she would no doubt have destroyed that
confession. I expect she wrote that also on the impulse of the moment.”
“She confessed as much,” said Hope, leaning his head on his hand and
staring into the fire. “She must have been cognizant of the truth all
along. I wonder if she was an accessory before or after the fact?”
“What I wonder,” said Random, after a moment's thought, “is, what
Braddock has to do with the matter?”
Hope raised his head in surprise.
“Why, nothing. Mrs. Jasher did not say a word against Braddock.”
“I know that. All the same, Cockatoo was completely under the thumb of
the Professor, and probably was instructed by him to strangle Bolton.”
“That is impossible,” cried the artist, much agitated. “Think of what
you are saying, Random. What a terrible thing it would be for Lucy if
the Professor were guilty in such a way as you suggest!”
“Really, I fail to see that. Miss Kendal is no relation to Braddock save
by marriage. His iniquities have nothing to do with her, or with you.”
“But it's impossible, I tell you, Random. Throughout the whole of this
case Braddock has acted in a perfectly innocent way.”
“That's just it,” said Sir Frank caustically; “he has acted. In spite
of his pretended grief for the loss of the emeralds, I should not be
surprised to learn from that,” he nodded towards the confession on the
table, “that he was in possession of the missing gem. Cockatoo had no
reason to steal the emeralds himself, setting aside the fact that he
probably would not know their value, being but a semi-civilized savage.
He acted under orders from his master, and although Cockatoo strangled
Bolton, the Professor is really the author and the gainer and the moving
spirit.”
“You would make Braddock an accessory before the fact.”
“Yes, and Mrs. Jasher an accessory after the fact. Cockatoo is the link,
as the actual criminal, who joins the two in a guilty partnership. No
wonder Braddock intended to make that woman his wife even though he
did not love her, for she knew a jolly sight too much for his peace of
mind.”
“This is horrible,” murmured Hope desperately; “but it is mere theory.
We cannot be sure until we read the confession.”
“We'll be sure soon, then, for here comes the coffee.”
This last remark Random made when a timid knock came to the door, and a
moment later the landlady entered with a tray bearing cups, saucers, and
a jug of steaming coffee. She was a meek, reticent woman who entered and
departed in dismal silence, and in a few moments the two young men were
quite alone with the door closed. They drank a cup of coffee each, and
then Hope proceeded to read the confession.
The story told by Mrs. Jasher commenced with a short account of her
early life. It appeared that her father was a ruined gentleman and a
gambler, and that her mother had been an actress. She was dragged up in
a Bohemian sort of way until she attained a marriageable age, when her
mother, who seemed to have been both wicked and hard-hearted, forced
her to marry a comparatively wealthy man called Jasher. The elderly
husband--for Jasher was not young--treated his wife very badly, and,
infected with the spirit of gambling by her father, lost all his money.
Mrs. Jasher then went with him to America and performed on the stage in
order to keep the home together. She had one child, but it died, much
to her grief, yet also much to her relief, as she was so miserable and
poor. Mrs. Jasher gave a scanty account of sordid years of trouble
and trial, of failure and sorrow. She and her husband roamed all over
America, and then went to Australia and New Zealand, where they lived
a wretched existence for many years. Finally the husband died of strong
drink at an advanced age, leaving Mrs. Jasher a somewhat elderly widow.
The poor woman again took to the stage and tried to earn her bread,
but was unsuccessful. Afterwards she lectured. Then she kept a boarding
establishment, and finally went out as a nurse. In every way, it would
seem, she tried to keep her head above water, and roamed the world like
a bird of passage, finding rest nowhere for the sole of her foot. Yet
throughout her story both the young men could see that she had always
aspired to a quiet and decent, respectable existence, and that only
force of circumstances had flung her into the whirlpool of life.
“As I said,” remarked Random at this stage, “the miserable creature was
more sinned against than sinning.”
“Her moral sense seemed to have become blunted, however,” said Archie
doubtfully.
“And small wonder, amidst such surroundings; but it seems to me that she
was much better under the circumstances than many another woman would
have been. Go on.”
In Melbourne Mrs. Jasher made a lucky speculation in mines, which
brought her one thousand pounds. With this she came to England, and
resolved to make a bid for respectability. Chance led her into the
neighborhood of Gartley, and thinking that if she set up her tent in
this locality she might manage to marry an officer from the Fort--since
amidst such dismal surroundings a young man might be the more easily
fascinated by a woman of the world--she took the cottage amidst the
marshes at a small rent. Here she hoped to eke out what money she had
left--a few hundreds--until the coveted marriage should take place.
Afterwards she met Professor Braddock and determined to marry him, as
a man more easy to manage. She was successful in enlisting Lucy on her
side, and until the green mummy brought its bad luck to the Pyramids
everything went capitally.
It was in connection with the name of Bolton that the first mention was
made of the green mummy. Sidney was a clever young man, although
very lowly born, and having been taken up by Professor Braddock as
an assistant, could hope some day to make a position. Braddock was
educating him, although he paid him very little in the way of wages.
Sidney fell in love with Mrs. Jasher, and in some way--she did not
mention how--gained her confidence. Perhaps the lonely woman was glad
to have a sympathetic friend. At all events she told her past history
to Sidney, and mentioned that she desired to marry Braddock. But Sidney
insisted that she should marry him, and promised to make enough money
to satisfy her that he was a good match, setting aside his humble birth,
for which Mrs. Jasher cared nothing.
It was then that Sidney related what he had discovered. Braddock, when
in Peru many years before, had tried to get mummies for some scientific
reason. When Hervey--then known as Vasa--promised to procure him the
mummy of the last Inca, Braddock was extremely pleased. Hervey stole the
mummy and also the copy of the manuscript which was written in Latin.
He sent this latter to Braddock--who was then at Cuzco--as an earnest of
his success in procuring the mummy, and when the Professor returned
to Lima the mummy was to be handed to him. Unfortunately, Braddock
was carried into captivity for one year, and when he escaped Vasa had
disappeared with the mummy. As the Professor had deciphered the Latin
manuscript, he knew of the emeralds, and for years had been hunting for
the mummy--sure to be recognized from its peculiar green color--in order
to get the jewels, and thus secure money for his Egyptian expedition.
All through, it seems, the Professor was actuated by purely scientific
enthusiasm, as in the abstract he cared very little for hard cash.
Bolton told Mrs. Jasher that Braddock explained how much he desired to
get the mummy, but he did not mention about the jewels. For a long time
Sidney was under the impression that his master merely wanted the
mummy to see the difference between the Egyptian and Peruvian modes of
embalming.
Then one day Sidney chanced on the Latin manuscript, and learned that
Braddock's real reason for getting the mummy was to procure the emeralds
which were held in the grip of the dead. Sidney kept this knowledge to
himself, and Braddock never guessed that his assistant knew the truth.
Then unexpectedly Braddock stumbled across the advertisement describing
the green mummy for sale in Malta. From the color he made sure that it
was that of Inca Caxas, and so moved heaven and earth to get money
to buy it. At length he did, from Archie Hope, on condition that he
consented to the marriage of his step-daughter with the young man.
Thinking that Sidney was ignorant of the jewels, he sent him to bring
the mummy home.
Sidney told Mrs. Jasher that he would try and steal the jewels in Malta
or on board the tramp steamer. Failing that, he would delay the delivery
of the mummy to Braddock on some excuse and rob it at Pierside. To make
sure of escaping, he borrowed a disguise from his mother, alleging that
Hope wanted the same to clothe a model. Sidney intended to take these
clothes with him, and, after stealing the jewels, to escape disguised as
an old woman. As he was slender and clean-shaven and a capital actor, he
could easily manage this.
Then he arranged that Mrs. Jasher should join him in Paris, and they
would sell the emeralds, and go to America, there to marry and live
happily ever afterwards, like a fairy tale.
Unfortunately for the success of this plan, Mrs. Jasher thought that the
Professor would make a more distinguished husband, so she betrayed all
that Sidney, had arranged.
“What a beastly thing to do!” interrupted Random, disgusted. “It is not
as if she wanted to help Braddock. I think less of Mrs. Jasher than ever
I did. She might have remembered that there is honor amongst thieves.”
“Well, she is dead, poor soul!” said Hope with a sigh. “God knows that
if she sinned, she has paid cruelly for her sin,” after which remark, as
Sir Frank was silent, he resumed his reading.
Braddock was furious when he learned of his assistant's projected