The Green Mummy

“Who by?”

“No doubt by the assassin who murdered poor Sidney.”

Hervey spat on the floor, and his weather-beaten face took on an expression of, profound regret.

“I guess I’m a fool of the best.”

“Why?” asked Braddock, again puzzled.

“To think,” said Hervey, addressing the mummy, “that you were on board my boat, and I never looted you.”

“What!” Braddock stamped. “Would you have committed theft?”

“Theft be hanged!” was the reply. “It ain’t thieving to loot the dead. I guess a corpse hasn’t got any use for jewels. You bet I’d have gummed straightways onto that mummy, when I brought it from Malta in the old Diver, had I known it was a jeweler’s shop of sorts. Huh! Two emeralds, and I never knew. I could kick myself.”

“You are a blackguard,” gasped the astonished Professor.

“Oh, shucks!” was the elegant retort, “give it a rest. I’m no worse than that dandy gentleman who added murder to stealing, anyhow.”

“Ah!” Braddock bounded off his chair like an india-rubber ball, “you said that you knew who had committed the murder.”

“Wal,” drawled Hervey again, “I do and I don’t. That is I suspect, but I can’t swear to the business before a judge.”

“Who killed Bolton?” asked the Professor furiously. “Tell me at once.”

“Not me, unless it’s made worth my while.”

“It will be, by Don Pedro.”

“That yellow-stomach. What’s he got to do with it?”

“I have just told you the mummy belongs to him; he came to Europe to find it. He wants the emeralds, and intends to offer a reward of one hundred pounds for the discovery of the assassin.”

Hervey arose briskly.

“I’m right on the job,” said he, sauntering to the door. “I’ll go to that old inn of yours, where you say the Don’s stopping, and look him up. Guess I’ll trade.”

“But who killed Bolton?” asked Braddock, running to the door and gripping Hervey by his coat.

The mariner looked down on the anxious face of the plump little man with a grim smile.

“I can tell you,” said he, “as you can’t figure out the business, unless I’m on the racket. No, sir; I’m the white boy in thin circus.”

The Professor shook the lean sailor in his anxiety.

“Who is he?”

“That almighty aristocrat that came on board my ship, when I lay in the Thames on the very afternoon I arrived with Bolton.”

“Who do you mean?” demanded Braddock, more and more perplexed.

“Sir Frank Random.”

“What! did he kill Bolton and steal my mummy?”

“And hide it in that garden on his way to the Fort? I guess he did.”

The Professor sat down and closed his eyes with horror. When he opened them again, Hervey was gone.

CHAPTER XVI. THE MANUSCRIPT AGAIN

But the Professor was not going to let Captain Hervey escape without giving him full information. Before the Yankee skipper could reach the front door, Braddock was at his heels, gasping and blowing like a grampus.

“Come back, come back. Tell me all.”

“I reckon not,” rejoined the mariner, removing Braddock’s grip. “You ain’t the one to give the money. I’ll go to the Don, or to Inspector Date of Pierside.”

“But Sir Frank must be innocent,” insisted Braddock.

“He’s got to prove it,” was the dry response. “Let me go.”

“No. You must tell me on what grounds – ”

“Oh, the devil take you!” said Hervey hastily, and sat down on one of the hall chairs. “It’s this way, since you won’t let me skip until I tell you. This almighty aristocrat came to Pierside on the same afternoon as I cast anchor. While Bolton was on board, he looked in to have a yarn of sorts.”

“What about?”

“Now, how in creation should I know?” snapped the skipper. “I wasn’t on hand, as I’d enough to do with unloading cargo. But his lordship went with Bolton to the state-room, and they talked for half an hour. When they came out, I saw that his lordship had his hair riz, and heard him saying things to Bolton.”

“What sort of things?”

“Well, for one, he said, `You’ll repent of this,’ and then again, `Your life isn’t safe while you keep it.’”

“Meaning the mummy?”

“I reckon that’s so, unless I am mistaken,” said Hervey serenely.

“Why didn’t you go to the police with this information?”

“Me? Not much. Why, I saw no way of making dollars. And then, again, I did not think of putting things together, until I found that his lorship – ”

“Meaning Sir Frank,” interpolated the Professor, frowning.

“I’m talking Queen’s, or King’s, or Republican lingo, I guess, and I do mean his lorship,” said the skipper dryly – “until I found that his lorship had been in the public-house where the crime was committed.”

“The Sailor’s Rest? When did he go there?”

“In the evening. After his talk with Bolton, and after a row – as they both seemed to have their hair off – he skipped over the side and went back to his yacht, which wasn’t far away. Bolton took his blamed mummy ashore and got fixed at the Sailor’s Rest. I gathered afterwards, from the second mate of The Diver (which ain’t my ship now), that his lorship came into the hotel and had a drink. Afterwards my second mate saw him talking to Bolton through the window.”

“In the same place as the woman talked?” questioned the Professor.

“That’s so, only it was later in the evening that the woman came along to give chin-music through the window. I am bound to say,” added the captain generously, “that no one I can place my hand on saw his lorship loafing about the hotel after dark. But what of that? He may have laid his plans, and arranged for the corpse to be found later, in that blamed packing case.”

“Is this all your evidence?”

“It’s enough, I guess.”

“Not to procure a warrant.”

“Why, a man in the States would be electrocuted on half the evidence.”

“I daresay,” retorted the little man with contempt, “but we are in a land where justice of the purest prevails. All your evidence is circumstantial. It proves nothing.”

The captain was considerably nettled.

“I calculate that it proves Sir Frank wanted the mummy, else why did he come on board my ship to see your infernal assistant. The words he used showed that he was warning Bolton how he’d do for him. And then he talked through the window, and was in the public-house, which ain’t a place for an almighty aristocrat to shelter in. I guess he’s the man wanted by the police. Why,” added Hervey, warming to his tale, “he’d a slap-up yacht laying near the blamed hotel, and could easily ship the corpse, after slipping it through the window. When he got tired of it, and looted the emeralds, he took it by boat, below the Fort, to Mrs. Jasher’s garden and left it there, so as to pull the wool over the eyes of the police. It’s as clear as mud to me. You search his lorship’s shanty, and you’ll find the emeralds.”

“It is strange,” muttered Braddock unwillingly.

“Strange, but not true,” said a voice from the head of the stairs, and young Hope came down leisurely, with a pale face, but a very determined air. “Random is absolutely innocent.”

“How do you know?” demanded the skipper contemptuously.

“Because he is an English gentleman and my very good friend.”

“Huh! I guess that defense won’t save him from being lynched.”

Meanwhile Braddock was looking irritably at Archie.

“You’ve been listening to a private conversation, sir. How dare you listen?”

“If you hold private conversations at the top of your voices in the hall, you must be expected to be listened to,” said Archie coolly. “I plead guilty, and I am not sorry.”

“When did you come?”

“In time to hear all that Captain Hervey has explained. I was chatting with Lucy, and had just left her, when I heard your loud voices.”

“Has Lucy heard anything?”

“No. She is busy in her room. But I’ll tell her,” Hope turned to mount the stairs; “she likes Random, and will no more believe him guilty than I do at this present moment.”

“Stop!” cried Braddock, flying forward to pull Hope back, as he placed his foot on the first stair. “Tell Lucy nothing just now. We must go to the Fort, you – and I, to see Random. Hervey, you come also, and then you can accuse Sir Frank to his face.”

“If he dares to do it!” said Archie, who looked and felt indignant.

“Oh, I’ll accuse him right enough when the time comes,” said Hervey in his coolest manner, “but the time isn’t now. Savy! I am going to see the Don first and make sure of this reward.”

“Faugh!” cried Hope with disgust, “Blood-money!”

“What of that? Ifs a man is a murderer he should be lynched.”

“My friend, Sir Frank Random, is no murderer.”

“He’s got to prove, that, as I said before,” rejoined the Yankee in a calm way, and strolled to the door. “So-long, gents both. I’ll light out for the Warrior Inn and play my cards. And I may tell you,” he added, pausing at the door, which he opened, “that I haven’t got that blamed wind-jammer, so need money to hold out until another steamer comes along. One hundred pounds English currency will just fill the bill. So now you know the lay I’m on. So-long,” and he walked quietly out of the house, leaving Archie and Braddock looking at one another with pale faces. The assurance of Hervey surprised and horrified them. Still, they could not believe that Sir Frank Random had been guilty of so brutal a crime.

“For one thing,” said Hope after a pause, “Random did not know where the emeralds were to be found, or even that they existed.”

“I understood that he did know,” said Braddock reluctantly. “In my hearing, and in your own, you heard Don Pedro state that he had related the story of the manuscript to Random.”

“You forget that I learned about the emeralds at the same time,” said Hope quietly. “Yet this Yankee skipper does not accuse me. The knowledge of the emeralds came to Random’s ears and to mine long after the crime was committed. To have a motive for killing Bolton and stealing the emeralds, Random would have had to know when he arrived in England.”

“And why should he have not known?” asked the Professor, biting his lip vexedly. “I don’t want to accuse Random, or even to doubt him, as he is a very good fellow, even though he refused to assist me with money when I desired a reward to be offered. All the same, he met Don Pedro in Genoa, and it is just possible that the man told him of the jewels buried with the mummy.”

Archie shook his head.

“I doubt that,” said he thoughtfully. “Random was as astonished as the rest of us, when Don Pedro told his Arabian Night story. However, the point can be easily settled by sending for Random. I daresay he is at the Fort.”

“I shall send Cockatoo for him at once,” said the Professor quickly, and walked into the museum to instruct the Kanaka. Archie remained where he was, and seated himself on a chair, with folded arms and knitted brows. It was incredible that an English gentleman with a stainless name and such a well-known soldier should commit so terrible a crime. And the matter of Hervey’s accusation was complicated by the fact – of which Hervey was ignorant – that Don Pedro was willing that Random should become his son-in-law. Hope wondered what the fiery, proud Peruvian would say when he heard his friend denounced. His reflections on this point were cut short by the return of the Professor, who appeared at the door of the museum dismissing Cockatoo. When the Kanaka took his departure, Braddock beckoned to the young man.

“There is no reason why we should talk in the hall, and let the whole house know of this new difficulty,” he said in a testy manner. “Come in here.”

Hope entered and looked with ill-concealed repugnance at the uncanny shape of the green mummy, which was lying on a long table. He examined the portions where the swathings had been cut with some sharp instrument, to reveal the dry, bony hands, which formerly had held the costly jewels. The face was invisible and covered with a mask of dull beaten gold. Formerly the eyes had been jeweled, but these last were now absent. He pointed out the mask to the Professor, who was hovering over the weird dead with a large magnifying-glass.

“It is strange,” said Hope earnestly, “that the mask of gold was not stolen also, since it is so valuable.”

“Unless melted down, the mask could be traced,” said Braddock after a pause. “The jewels, according to Don Pedro, are of immense value, and so could have been got rid of easily. Random was satisfied with those.”

“Don’t talk of him in that way, as though his guilt was certain,” said Hope, wincing.

“Well, you must admit that the evidence against him is strong.”

“But purely circumstantial.”

“Circumstantial evidence has hanged many an innocent man before now. Humph!” said Braddock uneasily, “I hope it won’t hang our friend. However, we shall hear what he has to say. I have sent Cockatoo to the Fort to bring him here at once. If Random is absent, Cockatoo is to leave a note in his room, on the writing-table.”

“Would it not have been better to have told Cockatoo to give the note to Random’s servant?”

“I think not,” responded Braddock dryly. “Random’s servant is certainly one of the most stupid men in the entire army. He would probably forget to give him the note, and as it is important that we should see Random at once, it is better that he should find it placed personally on his writing-table by Cockatoo, upon whom I can depend.”

Archie abandoned the argument, as it really mattered very little. He took up another line of conversation.

“I expect if the criminal tries to dispose of the emeralds he will be caught,” said he: “such large jewels are too noticeable to escape comment.”

“Humph! It depends upon the cleverness of the thief,” said the Professor, who was more taken up with the mummy than with the conversation, “He might have the jewels cut into smaller stones, or he might go to India and dispose of them to some Rajah, who would certainly say nothing. I don’t know how criminals act myself, as I have never studied their methods. But I hope that the clue you mention will be hit upon, if only for Random’s sake.”

“I don’t believe for one moment that Random is in danger,” said Archie, “and, if he is, I shall turn detective myself.”

“I wish you joy,” replied Braddock, bending over the mummy. “Look, Hope, at the wonderful color of this wool. There are some arts we have lost completely – dyeing of this surprising beauty is one. Humph!” mused the archaeologist, “I wonder why this particular mummy is dyed green, or rather why it is wrapped in green bandages. Yellow was the royal color of the ancient Peruvian monarchs. Vicuna wool dyed yellow. What do you think, Hope? It is strange.”

Archie shrugged his shoulders.

“I can say nothing, because I know nothing,” he said sharply. “All I do know is that I wish this precious mummy had never been brought here. It has caused trouble ever since its arrival.”

“Well,” said Braddock, surveying the dead with some disfavor, “I must say that I shall be glad to see the last of it myself. I know now all that I wanted to know! Humph! I wonder if Don Pedro will allow me to strip the mummy? Of course! It is mine not his. I shall unswathe it entirely,” and Braddock was about to lay sacrilegious hands on the dead, when Cockatoo entered breathlessly. He had been so quick that he must have run to the Fort and back again.

“I knock at door,” said the Kanaka, delivering his message, “and I hear no voice. I go in and find no one, so I put the letter on the table. I come down and ask, and a soldier tells me, sir, his master is coming back in half an hour.”

“You should have waited,” said Braddock, waving Cockatoo aside. “Come along with me to the Fort, Hope.”

“But Random will come here as soon as he returns.”

“Very likely, but I can’t wait. I am anxious to hear what he has to say in his defense. Come, Cockatoo, my coat, my hat, my gloves. Stir yourself, you scoundrel!”

Archie was not unwilling to go, since he was anxious also to hear what Random would say to the absurd accusation brought against him by the Yankee. In a few minutes the two men were walking smartly down the road through the village, the Professor striving to keep up with Hope’s longer legs by trotting as hard as he could. Halfway down the village they met a trap, and in it Captain Hervey being driven to the Jessum railway station.

“Have you seen Don Pedro?” asked the Professor, stopping the vehicle.

“I reckon not,” answered Hervey stolidly. “He’s gone into Pierside to see the police. I’m off there also.”

“You had better come with us,” said Archie sternly; – “we are going to see Sir Frank Random.”

“Give him my respects,” said the skipper cold-bloodedly, “and say that he’s worth one hundred pounds to me,” he waved his hand and the trap moved away, but he looked back with a wry smile. “Say I’ll square the matter for double the money and command of his yacht.”

Braddock and Archie looked after the trap in disgust.

“What a scoundrel the man is!” said the Professor pettishly; “he’d sell his father for what he could get.”

“It shows how much his word is to be depended upon. I expect this accusation of Random is a put-up job.”

“I hope so, for Random’s sake,” said Braddock, trotting briskly along.

In a short time they arrived at the Fort and were informed that Sir Frank had not yet returned, but was expected back every moment. In the meanwhile, as Braddock and Hope were both extremely well known, they were shown into Random’s quarters, which were on the first floor. When the soldier-servant retired and the door was closed, Hope seated himself near the window, while Braddock trotted round, looking into things.

“It’s a dog kennel,” said the Professor. “I told Random that.”

“Perhaps we should have waited him in the mess,” suggested Archie.

“No! no! no! We couldn’t talk there, with a lot of silly young fools hanging about. I told Random that I would never enter the mess, so he invited me to come always to his quarters. He was in love with Lucy then,” chuckled the Professor, “and nothing was too good for me.”

“Not even the dog kennel,” said Hope dryly, for the Professor’s chatter was so rude as to be quite annoying.

“Pooh! pooh! pooh! Random doesn’t mind a joke. You, Hope, have no sense of humor. Your name is Scotch also. I believe you are a Caledonian.”

“I am nothing of the sort. I was born on this side of the border.”

“You might have been born at the North Pole for all I care,” said the little man politely. “I don’t like artists: they are usually silly. I wish Lucy had married a man of science. Now don’t talk rubbish. I know what you are going to say.”

“Well,” said Archie, humoring him, “what am I going to say?”

This non-plussed the irritable savant.

“Hum! Hum! hum! I don’t know and don’t care. Pouf! How hot this room is! What a number of books of travel Random has!” Braddock was now at the bookcase, which consisted of shelves swung by cords against the wall.

“Random travels a great deal,” Archie reminded him.

“Quite so: quite so. Wastes his money on that silly yacht. But he hasn’t traveled in South America. I expect he’s going there. Come here, Hope, and see the many, many books about Peru and Chili and Brazil. There must be a dozen, and all library books too.”

Archie sauntered towards the shelves.

“I expect Random is getting up the subject of South America, so as to talk to Donna Inez.”

“Probably! probably!” snapped Braddock, pulling several of the books out of place. “Why, there isn’t a – Ah, dear me! What a catastrophe!”

He might well say so, for in his desire to examine the books, they all tipped off the shelves and lay in a disorderly heap on the floor. Hope began to pick them up and replace them, and so did the author of the mischief. Among the books were several papers scribbled with notes, and Braddock bundled these all in a heap.. Shortly, he caught sight of the writing on one.

“Hullo! Latin,” said he, and read a line or two. “Oh!” he gasped, “Hope! Hope! The manuscript of Don Pedro!”

“Impossible!”

Archie rose and stared at the discolored paper.

“Sorry to have kept you,” said Random, entering at this moment.

“You villain!” shouted Braddock furiously, “so you are guilty after all?”

CHAPTER XVII. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

Random was so taken aback by the fierce accusation of the Professor that he stood suddenly still at the door, and did not advance into the room. Yet he did not look so much afraid as puzzled. Whatever Braddock might have thought, Hope, from the expression on the young soldier’s face, was more than ever satisfied of his innocence.

“What are you talking about, Professor?” asked Random, genuinely surprised.

“You know well enough,” retorted the Professor.

“Upon my word I don’t,” said the other, walking into the room and unbuckling his sword. “I find you here, with the contents of my bookcase on the floor, and you promptly accuse me of being guilty. Of what, I should like to know? Perhaps you can tell me Hope.”

“There is no need for Hope to tell you, sir. You are perfectly well aware of your own villainy.”

Random frowned.

“I allow a certain amount of latitude to my guests, Professor,” he said with marked dignity, “but for a man of your age and position you go too far. Be more explicit.”

“Allow me to speak,” intervened Archie, anticipating Braddock. “Random, the Professor has just had a visit from Captain Hiram Hervey, who was the skipper of The Diver. He accuses you of having murdered Bolton!”

“What?” the baronet started back, looking thunderstruck.

“Wait a moment. I have not finished yet. Hervey accuses you of this murder, of stealing the mummy, of gaining possession of the emeralds, and of placing the rifled corpse in Mrs. Jasher’s garden, so that she might be accused of committing the crime.”

“Exactly,” cried Braddock, seeing that his host remained silent from sheer surprise. “Hope has stated the case very clearly. Now, sir, your defense?”

“Defense! defense!” Random found his tongue at last and spoke indignantly. “I have no defense to make.”

“Ah! Then you acknowledge your guilt?”

“I acknowledge nothing. The accusation is too preposterous for any denial to be necessary. Do you believe this of me?” He looked from one to the other.

“I don’t,” said Archie quickly, “there is some mistake.”

“Thank you, Hope. And you, Professor?”

Braddock fidgeted about the room.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said at length. “Hervey spoke very decisively.”

“Oh, indeed,” returned Random dryly, and, walking to the door, he locked it. “In that case, I must ask you for an explanation, and neither of you shall leave this room until one is given. Your proofs?”

“Here is one of them,” snapped Braddock, throwing the manuscript on the table. “Where did you get this?”

Random took up the discolored paper with a bewildered air.

“I never set eyes on this before,” he said, much puzzled. “What is it?”

“A copy of the manuscript mentioned by Don Pedro, which describes the two emeralds buried with the mummy of Inca Caxas.”

“I see.” Random understood all in a moment. “So you say that I knew of the emeralds from this, and so murdered Bolton to obtain them.”

“Pardon me,” said Braddock with elaborate politeness. “Hervey says that you murdered my poor assistant, and although my discovery of this manuscript proves that you must have known about the jewels, I say nothing. I wait to hear your defense.”

“That’s very good of you,” remarked Sir Frank ironically. “So it seems that I am in the dock. Perhaps the counsel for the prosecution will state the evidence against me,” and he looked again from one to the other.

Archie shook the baronet by the hand very warmly.

“My dear fellow,” he declared decidedly, “I don’t believe one word of the evidence.”

“In that case there must be a flaw in it,” retorted Random, but did not seem to be unmoved by Hope’s generous action. “Sit down, Professor; it appears that you are against me.”

“Until I hear your defense,” said the old man obstinately.

“I cannot make any until I hear your evidence. Go on. I am waiting,” and Sir Frank flung himself into a chair, where he sat calmly, his eyes steadily fixed on the Professor’s face.

“Where did you get that manuscript?” asked Braddock sharply.

“I got it nowhere: this is the first time I have seen it.”

“Yet it was hidden amongst your books.”

“Then I can’t say how it got there. Were you looking for it?”

“No! Certainly not. To pass the time while waiting, I examined your library, and in pulling out a book, your case, being a swing one, over-balanced and shot its contents on to the floor. Amongst the papers which fell with the books, I caught a glimpse of the manuscript, and, noting that it was written in Latin, I picked it up, surprised to think that a frivolous young man, such as you are, should study a dead language. A few words showed me that the manuscript was a copy of the one referred to by Don Pedro.”