CHAPTER XV. AN ACCUSATION
Both Don Pedro and Professor Braddock were amazed and angry at the disappearance of the jewels, but Hope did not express much surprise. Considering the facts of the murder, it was just what he expected, although it must be confessed that he was wise after the event.
“I refer you to your own words immediately before the case was opened, Professor,” he remarked, after the first surprise had subsided.
“Words! words!” snapped Braddock, who was anything but pleased. “What words of mine do you mean, Hope?”
“You said that it was not likely that any one would commit a murder for the sake of the mummy only, and then leave it stranded in Mrs. Jasher’s garden. Also, you declared that you had your doubts about the safety of the emeralds, else you would not have consented to sell the mummy again to its rightful owner.”
The Professor nodded.
“Quite so: quite so. And what I say I hold to,” he retorted, “especially as I have proved myself a true prophet. You can both see for yourselves,” he waved his hand towards the rifled case, “that poor Sidney must have been killed for the sake of the emeralds. The question is, who killed him?”
“The person who knew about the jewels,” said Don Pedro promptly.
“Of course: but who did know? I was ignorant until you told me about the manuscript. And you, Hope?” He searched Archie’s face.
“Do you intend to accuse me?” questioned the young man with a slight laugh. “I assure you, Professor, that I was ignorant of what had been buried with the corpse, until Don Pedro related his story the other night to myself and Random, and the ladies.”
Braddock turned impatiently to De Gayangos, as he did not approve of Archie’s apparent flippancy.
“Does any one else know of the contents of this manuscript?” he demanded irritably.
Don Pedro nursed his chin and looked musingly on the ground.
“It is just possible that Vasa may.”
“Vasa? Vasa? Oh yes, the sailor who stole the mummy thirty years ago from your father in Lima. Pooh! pooh! pooh! You tell me that this manuscript is written in Latin, and evidently in monkish Latin at that, which is of the worst. Your sailor could not read it, and would not know the value of the manuscript. If he had, he would have carried it off.”
“Senor,” said the Peruvian politely, “I have an idea that my father made a translation of this manuscript, or at all events a copy.”
“But I understood,” put in Hope, still astride of his chair, “that you did not find the original manuscript until your father died.”
“That is quite true, sir,” assented the other readily, “but I did not tell you everything the other night. My father it was who found the manuscript at Cuzco, and although I cannot state authoritatively, yet I believe I am correct in saying that he had a copy made. But whether the copy was merely a transcript or actually a translation, I cannot tell. I think it was the former, as if Vasa, reading a translation, had learned of the jewels, he undoubtedly would have stolen them before selling this mummy to the Parisian collector.”
“Perhaps he did,” said Braddock, pointing to the rifled corpse. “You see that the emeralds are missing.”
“Your assistant’s assassin stole them,” insisted Don Pedro coldly.
“We cannot be sure of that,” retorted the Professor, “although I admit that no man would jeopardize his neck for the sake of a corpse.”
Archie looked surprised.
“But an enthusiast such as you are, Professor, might risk so much.”
For once in his life Braddock made a good-humored reply.
“No, sir. Not even for this mummy would I place myself in the power of the law. And I do not think that any other scientist would either. We savants may not be worldly, but we are not fools. However, the fact remains that the jewels are gone, and whether they were stolen by Vasa thirty years ago, or by poor Sidney’s assassin the other day, I don’t know, and, what is more, I don’t care. I shall examine the mummy further, and in a couple of days Don Pedro can bring me a check for one thousand and remove his ancestor.”
“No! no!” cried the Peruvian hurriedly; “since the emeralds are missing, I am not in a position to pay you one thousand English pounds, sir. I want to take back the body of Inca Caxas to Lima; as one must show respect to one’s ancestors. But the fact is, I cannot pay the money.”
“You said that you could,” shouted the exasperated Professor in his bullying way.
“I admit it, senor, but I had hoped to do so when I sold the emeralds, which – as you can see – are not available. Therefore the body of my royal ancestor must remain here until I can procure the money. And it may be that Sir Frank Random will help me in this matter.”
“He wouldn’t help me,” snapped Braddock, “so why should he help you?”
Don Pedro, looking more dignified than ever, drew himself up to his tall height.
“Sir Frank,” he said, in a stately way, “has done me the honor of seeking to be my son-in-law. As my daughter loves him, I am willing to permit the marriage, but now that I have learned the emeralds are lost, I shall not consent until Sir Frank buys the mummy from you, Professor. It is only right that my daughter’s hand should redeem her regal forefather from purely scientific surroundings and that she should take the mummy back to be buried in Lima. At the same time, sir, I must say that I am the rightful owner of the dead, and that you should surrender the mummy to me free of charge.”
“What, and lose a thousand pounds!” cried Braddock furiously. “No, sir, I shall do nothing of the sort. You only wanted the mummy for the sake of the jewels, and now that they are lost, you do not care what becomes of your confounded ancestor, and you – ”
The Professor would have gone on still more furiously, but that Hope, seeing Don Pedro was growing angry at the insult, chimed in.
“Let me throw oil on the troubled waters,” he said, smoothly. “Don Pedro is not able to redeem the mummy until the emeralds are found. As such is the case, we must find the emeralds and enable him to do what is necessary.”
“And how are we to find the jewels?” asked Braddock crossly.
“By finding the assassin.”
“How is that to be done?” asked De Gayangos gloomily. “I have been doing my best at Pierside, but I cannot find a single clue. Vasa is not to be found.”
“Vasa!” exclaimed Archie and the Professor, both profoundly astonished.
Don Pedro raised his eyebrows.
“Certainly. Vasa, if anyone, must have killed your assistant, since he alone could have known that the jewels were buried with Inca Caxas.”
“But, my dear sir,” argued Hope good-naturedly, “if Vasa stole the manuscript, whether translated or not, he certainly must have learned the truth long, long ago, since thirty years have elapsed. In that event he must have stolen the jewels, as Professor Braddock remarked lately, before he sold the mummy to the Parisian collector.”
“That may be so,” said Don Pedro obstinately, while the Professor muttered his approval, “but we cannot be certain on that point. No one – I agree with the Professor in this – would have risked his neck to steal a mere mummy, therefore the motive for the committal of the crime must have been the emeralds. Only Vasa knew of their existence outside myself and my dead father. He, therefore, must be the assassin. I shall hunt for him, and, when I find him, I shall have him arrested.”
“But you can’t possibly recognize the man after thirty years?” argued Braddock disbelievingly.
“I have a royal memory for faces,” said Don Pedro imperturbably, “and in the past I saw much of Vasa. He was then a young sailor of twenty.”
“Humph!” muttered Braddock. “He is now fifty, and must have changed in thirty years. You’ll never recognize him.”
“Oh, I think so,” said the Peruvian smoothly. “His eyes were peculiarly blue and full of light. Also, he had a scar on the right temple from a blow which he received in a street riot in which I also was concerned. Finally, gentlemen, Vasa loved a peon girl on my father’s estate, and she induced him to have the sun encircled by a serpent – a Peruvian symbol – tattooed on his left wrist. With all these marks, and with my memory for faces, which never yet has failed me, I have no doubt but what I shall recognize the man.”
“And then?”
“And then I shall have him arrested”
Hope shrugged his square shoulders. He had not much belief in Don Pedro’s boasted royal memory, and did not think that he would recognize a young sailor of twenty in what would certainly be a grizzled old salt of fifty years. However, it was possible that the man might be right in his surmise, since Vasa alone could have known about the emeralds. The only doubt was whether he would have waited for thirty years before looting the mummy. Archie said nothing of these thoughts, as they would only serve to prolong an unprofitable discussion. But he made one suggestion.
“Your best plan,” he said suggestively, “is to write a description of Vasa – who, by the way, has probably changed his name – and hand it to the police, with the promise of a reward if he is found.”
“I am very poor, senor. Surely the Professor here – ”
“I can offer nothing,” said Braddock quickly, “as I am quite as poor as you are, if not more so, Sir Frank might help,” he added sarcastically.
“I shall not ask,” said Don Pedro loftily. “If Sir Frank chooses to become my son-in-law by purchasing back my royal ancestor, to which you have no right, I am willing that it should be so. But, poor as I am, I shall offer a reward myself, since the honor of the De Gayangoses is involved in this matter. What reward do you suggest, Mr. Hope?”
“Five hundred pounds,” said the Professor quickly.
“Too much,” said Hope sharply – “far too much. Make the reward one hundred pounds, Don Pedro. That is enough to tempt many a man.”
The Peruvian bowed and noted down the amount.
“I shall go at once to Pierside and see Inspector Date, who had to do with the inquest,” he remarked. “Meanwhile, Professor, please do not desecrate my royal ancestor’s body more than you can help.”
“I shall certainly not search for any more emeralds,” retorted Braddock dryly. “Now, clear out, both of you, and leave me to examine the mummy. Cockatoo, show these gentlemen out, and let no one else in.”
Don Pedro returned to the Warrior Hotel to inform his daughter of what had taken place, with the intention of going in the afternoon to Pierside. Meanwhile, he wrote out a full description of Vasa, making an allowance for the lapse of years and explaining the scar and the symbol on the left wrist. Hope also sought Lucy and related the latest development of the case. The girl was not surprised, as she likewise believed that the assassin had desired more than the mummy when he murdered Sidney Bolton.
“Mrs. Jasher did not know about the emeralds?” she asked suddenly.
“No,” replied Archie, much surprised. “Surely you do not suspect her of having a hand in the devilment?”
“Certainly not,” was the prompt answer. “Only I cannot understand how the mummy came to be in her garden.”
“It was brought up from the river, I expect.”
“But why to Mrs. Jasher’s garden?”
Hope shook his head.
“I cannot tell that. The whole thing is a mystery, and seems likely to remain so.”
“It seems to me,” said the girl, after a pause, “that it would be best for my father to return this mummy to Don Pedro, and have done with it, since it seems to bring bad luck. Then he can marry Mrs. Jasher, and go to Egypt on her fortune to seek for this tomb.”
“I doubt very much if Mrs. Jasher will marry the Professor now, after what he said last night.”
“Nonsense, my father was in a rage and said what first came into his mind. I daresay she is angry. However, I shall see her this afternoon, and put matters right.”
“You are very anxious that the Professor should marry the lady.”
“I am,” replied Lucy seriously, “as I want to leave my father comfortably settled when I marry you. The sooner he makes Mrs. Jasher his wife, the readier will he be to let me go, and I want to marry you as soon as I possibly can. I am tired of Gartley and of this present life.”
Of course to this speech Archie could make only one answer, and as that took the form of kissing, it was entirely satisfactory to Miss Kendal. Then they discussed the future and also the proposed engagement of Sir Frank Random to the Peruvian lady. But both left the subject of the mummy alone, as they were quite weary of the matter, and neither could suggest a solution of the mystery.
Meanwhile Professor Braddock had passed a very pleasant hour in examining the swathings of the mummy. But his pleasure was destined to be cut short sooner than he desired, as Captain Hiram Hervey unexpectedly arrived. Although Cockatoo – as he had been instructed – did his best to keep him out, the sailor forced his way in, and heralded his appearance by throwing the Kanaka head-foremost into the museum.
“What does this mean?” demanded the fiery Professor, while Cockatoo, with an angry expression, struggled to his feet, and Hervey, smoking his inevitable cheroot, stood on the threshold – “how dare you treat my property in this careless way.”
“Guess your property should behave itself then,” said the captain in careless tones, and sauntered into the room. “D’y think I’m goin’ to be chucked out by a measly nigger and – Great Scott!” – this latter exclamation was extorted by the sight of the mummy.
Braddock motioned to the still angry Cockatoo to move aside, and then nodded triumphantly.
“You didn’t expect to see that, did you?” he asked.
Hervey came to anchor on a chair and turned the cheroot in his mouth with an odd look at the mummy.
“When will he be hanged?”
Braddock stared.
“When will who be hanged?”
“The man as stole that thing.”
“We haven’t found him yet,” Braddock informed him swiftly.
“Then how in creation did you annex the corpse.”
The Professor sat down and explained. The lean, long mariner listened quietly, only nodding at intervals. He did not seem to be surprised when he heard that the corpse of the head Inca had been found in Mrs. Jasher’s garden, especially when Braddock explained the whereabouts of the property.
“Wal,” he drawled, “that don’t make my hair stand on end. I guess the garden was on his way and he used it for a cemetery.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded the perplexed scientist.
“About the man who strangled your help and yanked away the corpse.”
“But I don’t know who he is. Nobody knows.”
“Go slow. I do.”
“You!” Braddock started and flung himself across the room to seize Hervey by the lapels of his reefer coat. “You know. Tell me who he is, so that I can get the emeralds.”
“Emeralds!” Hervey removed Braddock’s plump hands and stared greedily.
“Don’t you know? No, of course you don’t. But two emeralds were buried with the mummy, and they have been stolen.”
“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.”