The Green Mummy

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"That is not true," said Hope hotly. "Why should the woman tell
such a lie?"

"Well," said Lucy slowly, "it struck me that the woman who spoke
with Sidney through the Sailor's Rest window might be Widow Anne
herself, and that she has invented this story of the clothes
being lent to account for their being worn, should she be
discovered."

"It's certainly odd she should speak like this," said Random
thoughtfully; "but you forget, Miss Kendal, that she proved an
alibi."

"What of that?" cried Don Pedro hurriedly, "alibis can be
manufactured."

"It will be best to see this woman and question her," suggested
Donna Inez.

Archie nodded.

"I shall do so to-morrow. By the way, does she ever come to your
room in the Fort, Random?"

"Oh yes, she is my laundress, you know, and at times brings back
the clothes herself. My servant is usually in, though. I see
what you mean. That she might have received the manuscript from
Bolton, and have left it in my room."

"Yes, I think that," said Archie slowly. "I should not be at all
surprised to learn that a portion of Hervey's theory is correct.
Bolton may have found the manuscript packed up in the mummy,
amongst the graveclothes, in fact. If he read it--as he would
and could, seeing that he was an excellent Latin scholar, thanks
to Professor Braddock's training--he might have formed a design
to steal the emeralds when he was in the Sailor's Rest. Then
someone saved him the trouble, and packed him off to Gartley
instead of the mummy."

"But why should Widow Anne leave the manuscript in my room?"
argued Random.

"Can't you see? Bolton knew that you wanted the mummy for Don
Pedro, and was aware how you had--so to speak--used threats in
the presence of witnesses, since you spoke out aloud on the
deck."

"Only to warn Bolton against the Indians," pleaded Random.

"Exactly; but your words were capable of being twisted as Hervey
has twisted them. Well, if Widow Anne really went to see her son
--and from the lie about the borrowed clothes it looks like it--
he may have given her the manuscript, so as to throw the blame on
you."

"The murder?"

"No, no," said Archie testily. "Bolton did not expect to be
murdered. But I really believe that he intended to fly with the
emeralds, and hoped that when the manuscript was found in your
room you would be accused. The idea was suggested to him, I
believe, by your visit to The Diver."

"What do you think, Miss Kendal?" asked Random nervously.

"I fancy that it is possible."

Sir Frank turned to the Peruvian.

"Don Pedro," he said proudly, "you have heard what Hervey says;
do you believe that I am guilty?"

For answer De Gayangos took his daughter's hand and placed it in
that of the young soldier.

"That will show you what I think," he said gravely.

"Thank you, sir," said Random, moved, and shook his future
father-in-law heartily by the hand, while Donna Inez, throwing
all restraint to the winds, kissed her lover exultingly on the
check. In the midst of this scene Professor Braddock returned,
looking very pleased.

"I have induced Hervey to hold his tongue for a few days until we
can look into this matter," he said, rubbing his hands "that is,
if you think it wise, all of you. Otherwise, I am quite willing
to go myself to-morrow and tell the police."

"No," said Archie rapidly, "let us thresh out the matter
ourselves. We will save Sir Frank's name from a police court
slur at all events."

"I do not think there is any chance of Sir Frank being arrested,"
said Don Pedro politely; "the evidence is insufficient. And at
the worst he can provide an alibi."

"I am not so sure of that," said Random anxiously. "I went to
London certainly, but I did not go to any place where I am known.
However," he added cheerfully, "I daresay I'll be able to defend
myself. Still, the fact remains that we are no nearer to
learning who killed Bolton than we were."

"I am sending Cockatoo to Pierside to-morrow to stop at the
Sailor's Rest for a time," said Braddock quickly. "He will watch
Hervey, and if there is anything suspicious about his movements,
we shall soon know."

"And I turn amateur detective to-morrow and question Widow Anne,"
said Hope, after which remark he had to explain matters to
Braddock, who had been out of the room when Mrs. Bolton's strange
request had been discussed.

Meanwhile Donna Inez had been whispering to her lover and
pointing to the mummy. Don Pedro followed her thoughts and
guessed what she was saying. Random proved the truth of his
guess by, turning to him.

"Do you really want to take back the mummy to Peru, sir?" he
asked quietly.

"Certainly. Inca Caxas was my forefather. I do not wish to
leave him in this place. His body must be restored to its tomb.
All the Indians, who look upon me as their present Inca expect me
to bring the body back. Although," added De Gayangos gravely,
"I did not come to Europe to look for the mummy, as you know."

"Then I shall buy the mummy," said Random impetuously.
"Professor, will you sell it to me?"

"Now that I have examined it thoroughly I shall be delighted,"
said the little man, "say for two thousand pounds."

"Not at all," interposed Don Pedro; "you mean one thousand."

"Of course he does," said Lucy quickly; "and the check must be
paid to Archie, Sir Frank."

"To me! to me!" cried Braddock indignantly. "I insist."

"The money belongs to Archie," said Lucy obstinately. "You have
seen what you desired to see, father and as Archie only lent you
the money, it is only fair that he should have it again."

"Oh, let the Professor have it," said Hope good-naturedly.

"No! no! no!"

Random laughed.

"I shall make the check payable to you, Miss Kendal, and you can
give it to whomsoever you choose," he said; "and now, as
everything has been settled so far, I suggest that we should
retire."

"Come to my rooms at the inn," said Don Pedro, opening the door.
"I have much to say to you. Good night, Professor; to-morrow let
us go to Pierside and see if we cannot get at the truth."

"And to-morrow," cried Random, "I shall send the check, sir."

When the company departed, Lucy had another wrangle with her
father about the check. As Archie had gone away, she could speak
freely, and pointed out that he was enjoying her mother's income
and was about to marry Mrs. Jasher, who was rich.

"Therefore," argued Lucy, "you certainly do not want to keep poor
Archie's money."

"He paid me that sum on condition that I consented to the
wedding."

"He did nothing of the sort," she cried indignantly. "I am not
going to be bought and sold in this manner. Archie lent you the
money, and it must be returned. Don't force me to think you
selfish, father."

The upshot of the argument was that Lucy got her own way, and the
Professor rather unwillingly agreed to part with the mummy and
restore the thousand pounds. But he regretted doing so, as he
wished to get all the money he could to go towards his proposed
Egyptian expedition, and Mrs. Jasher's fortune, as he assured his
step-daughter, was not so large as might be thought. However,
Lucy overruled him, and retired to bed, congratulating herself
that she would soon be able to marry Hope. She was beginning to
grow a trifle weary of the Professor's selfish nature, and
wondered how her mother had put up with it for so long.

Next day Braddock did not go with Don Pedro to Pierside, as he
was very busy in his museum. The Peruvian went alone, and
Archie, after a morning's work at his easel, sought out Widow
Anne to ask questions. Lucy and Donna Inez paid an afternoon
visit to Mrs. Jasher and found her in bed, as she had caught a
mild sort of influenza. They expected to find Sir Frank here,
but it seemed that he had not called. Thinking that he was
detained by military business, the girls thought nothing more of
his absence, although Donna Inez was somewhat downcast.

But Random was detained in his quarters by a letter which had
arrived by the mid-day host, and which surprised him not a
little. The postmark was London, and the writing, evidently a
disguised hand, was almost illegible in its crudeness. The
contents ran as follows, and it will be noticed that there is
neither date nor address, and that it is written in the third
person:

"If Sir Frank Random wants his character to be cleared and all
suspicion of murder to be removed from him, he can be completely
exonerated by the writer, if he will pay the same five thousand
pounds. If Sir Frank Random is willing to do this, let him
appoint a meeting-place in London, and the writer will send a
messenger to receive the money and to hand over the proofs which
will clear Sir Frank Random. If Sir Frank Random plays the
writer false, or communicates with the police, proofs will be
forthcoming which will prove him to be guilty of Sidney Bolton's
death, and which will bring him to the scaffold without any
chance of escape. A couple of lines in the Agony Column of The
Daily Telegraph, signed `Artillery,' and appointing a
meeting-place, will suffice; but beware of treachery."

CHAPTER XXI

A STORY OF THE PAST

Mrs. Jasher's influenza proved to be very mild indeed.

When Donna Inez de Gayangos and Lucy paid a visit to her on the
afternoon of the day succeeding the explanations in the museum,
she was certainly in bed, and explained that she had been there
since the Professor's visit on the previous day. Lucy was
surprised at this, as she had left Mrs. Jasher perfectly well,
and Braddock had not mentioned any ailment of the widow. But
influenza, as Mrs. Jasher observed, was very rapid in its action,
and she was always susceptible to disease from the fact that in
Jamaica she had suffered from malaria. Still, she was feeling
better and intended to rise from her bed on that evening, if only
to lie on the couch in the pink drawing-room. Having thus
detailed her reasons for being ill, the widow asked for news.

As no prohibition had been placed upon Lucy with regard to
Hervey's visit and as Mrs. Jasher would be one of the family when
she married the Professor, Miss Kendal had no hesitation in
reporting all that had taken place. The narrative excited Mrs.
Jasher, and she frequently interrupted with expressions of
wonder. Even Donna Inez grew eloquent, and told the widow how
she had defended Sir Frank against the American skipper.

"What a dreadfully wicked man!" said Mrs. Jasher, when in
possession of all the facts. "I really believe that he did kill
poor Sidney."

"No," said Lucy decisively, "I don't think that. He would have
murdered him on board had he intended the crime, as he could have
done so with more safety. He is as innocent as Sir Frank."

"And no one dare say a word against him," cried Donna Inez with
flashing eyes.

"He has a good defender, my dear," said the widow, patting the
girl's hand.

"I love him," said Donna Inez, as if that explained everything,
and perhaps it did, so far as she was concerned.

Mrs. Jasher smiled indulgently, then turned for further
information to Lucy.

"Can it be possible," she said, "that Widow Anne is guilty?"

"Oh, I don't think so. She would not murder her own son,
especially when she was so very fond of him. Archie told me,
just before we came here, that he had called to see her. She
still insists that Sidney borrowed the clothes, saying that
Archie wanted them."

"What do you make of that, my dear?"

"Well," said Miss Kendal, pondering, "either Widow Anne herself
was the woman who talked to Sidney through the Sailor's Rest
window, and has invented this story to save herself, or Sidney
did get the clothes and intended to use them as a disguise when
he fled with the emeralds."

"In that case," said Mrs. Jasher, "the woman who talked through
the window still remains a problem. Again, if Sidney Bolton
intended to steal the emeralds, he could have done so in Malta,
or on board the boat."

"No," said Lucy decisively. "The mummy was taken directly from
the seller's house to the boat, and perhaps Sidney did not find
the manuscript until he looked at the mummy. Then Captain Hervey
kept an eye on Sidney, so that he could not open the mummy to
steal the emeralds."

"Still, according to your own showing, Sidney looked at the
actual mummy--he opened the mummy case, that is, else he could
not have got the manuscript."

Lucy nodded.

"I think so, but of course we cannot be sure. But the packing
case in which the mummy was stowed was placed in the hold of the
steamer, and if Sidney had wished to steal the emeralds, he could
not have done so without exciting Captain Hervey's suspicions."

"Then let us say that Sidney robbed the mummy when in the
Sailor's Rest, and took the clothes he borrowed from his mother
in order to fly in disguise. But what of the woman?"

Lucy shook her head.

"I cannot tell. We may learn more later. Don Pedro has gone to
Pierside to search, and my father says that he will send Cockatoo
there also to search."

"Well," sighed Mrs. Jasher wearily, "I hope that all this
trouble will come to an end. That green mummy has proved most
unlucky. Leave me now, dear girls, as I feel somewhat tired."

"Good-bye," said Lucy, kissing her. "I hope that you will be
better this evening. Don't get up unless you feel quite able."

"Oh, I shall take my ease in the drawing-room."

"I thought you always called it the parlor," laughed the girl.

"Ah," Mrs. Jasher smiled, "you see I am practicing against the
time when I shall be mistress of the Pyramids, You can't call
that large room there a parlor," and she laughed weakly.

Altogether, Mrs. Jasher impressed both Lucy and Donna Inez with
the fact that she was very weak and scarcely able, as she put it,
to draw one leg after the other. Both the girls would have been
surprised to see what a hearty meal Mrs. Jasher made that
evening, when she was up and dressed. Perhaps she felt that her
strength needed keeping up, but she certainly partook largely of
the delicate dinner provided by Jane, who was a most excellent
cook.

After dinner, Mrs. Jasher lay on a pink couch in the pink parlor
by a splendid fire, for the night was cold and raw with a promise
of rain. The widow had a small table at her elbow, on which
stood a cup of coffee and a glass of liquor. The rose-colored
curtains were drawn, the rose-shaded lamps were lighted, and the
whole interior of the cottage looked very comfortable indeed.
Mrs. Jasher, in a crocus-yellow tea-gown trimmed with rich black
lace, reclined on her couch like Cleopatra in her barge. In the
pink light she looked very well preserved, although her face wore
an anxious expression. This was due to the fact that the mail
had come in and the three letters brought by the postman had to
do with creditors. Mrs. Jasher was always trying to make both
ends meet, and had a hard struggle to keep her head above water.
Certainly, since she had inherited the money of her brother, the
Pekin merchant, she need not have looked so worried. But she
did, and made no disguise of it, seeing that she was quite alone.

After a time she went to her desk and took out a bundle of bills
and some other letters, also an account book and a bank book.
Over these she pored for quite an hour. The clock struck nine
before she looked up from this unpleasant task, and she found her
financial position anything but satisfactory. With a weary sigh
she rose and stared at herself in the mirror over the fireplace,
frowning as she did so.

"Unless I can marry the Professor at once, I don't know what will
happen to me," she mused gloomily. "I have managed very well so
far, but things are coming to a crisis. These devils," she
alluded to her creditors, "will not keep off much longer, and
then the crash will come. I shall have to leave Gartley as poor
as when I came, and there will be nothing left but the old
nightmare life of despair and horror. I am getting older every
day, and this is my last chance of getting married. I must force
the Professor to have a speedy marriage. I must! I must!" and
she began to pace the tiny room in a frenzy of terror and
well-founded alarm.

As she was trying to calm herself and succeeding very badly, Jane
entered the room with a card. It proved to be that of Sir Frank
Random.

"It is rather a late hour for a visit," said Mrs. Jasher to the
servant. "However, I feel so bored, that perhaps he will cheer
me up. Ask him to come in."

When Jane left, she stood still for a moment or so, trying to
think why the young man had called at so untoward an hour. But
when his footsteps were heard approaching the door, she swept the
books and the bills and the letters into the desk and locked it
quickly. When Random appeared at the door, she was just leaving
the desk to greet him, and no one would have taken the smiling,
plump, well-preserved woman for the creature who lately had
looked so haggard and careworn.

"I am glad to see you, Sir Frank," said Mrs. Jasher, nodding in a
familiar manner. "Sit down in this very comfortable chair, and
Jane shall bring you some coffee and kummel."

"No, thank you," said Random in his usual stiff way, but very
politely. "I have just left the mess, where I had a good
dinner."

Mrs. Jasher nodded, and sank again on the couch, which was
opposite the chair which she had selected for her visitor.

"I see you are in mess kit," she said gayly; "quite a glorified
creature to appear in my poor little parlor. Why are you not
with Donna Inez? I have heard all about your engagement from
Lucy. She was here to-day with Senorita De Gayangos."

"So I believe," said Random, still stiffly; "but you see I was
anxious to come and see you."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Jasher equably, "you heard that I was ill. Yes;
I have been in bed ever since yesterday afternoon, until a couple
of hours ago. But I am now better. My dinner has done me good.
Pass me that fan, please. The fire is so hot."

Sir Frank did as he was told, and she held the feather fan
between her face and the fire, while he stared at her, wondering
what to say.

"Don't you find this atmosphere very stuffy?" he remarked at
length. "It would be a good thing to have the windows open."

Mrs. Jasher shrieked.

"My dear boy, are you mad? I have a touch of the influenza, and
an open window would bring about my death. Why, this room is
delightfully comfortable."

"There is such a strong perfume about it," sniffed Random
pointedly.

"I should think you knew that scent by this time, Sir Frank. I
use no other and never have done. Smell!" and she passed a
flimsy handkerchief of lace.

Random took the handkerchief and placed it to his nostrils. As
he did so a strange expression of triumph crept into his eyes.

"I think you told me once that it was a Chinese perfume," he said,
returning the handkerchief.

Mrs. Jasher nodded, well pleased.

"I get it from a friend of my late husband who is in the British
Embassy at Pekin. No one uses it but me."

"But surely some other person uses it?"

"Not in England; and I do not know why you should say so. It is
a specialty of mine. Why," she added playfully, "if you met me
in the dark you should know me, by this scent."

"Can you swear that no one else has ever used this perfume?"
asked Random.

Mrs. Jasher lifted her penciled eyebrows.

"I do not know why you should ask me to swear," she said quietly,
"but I assure you that I keep this perfume which comes from
China to myself. Not even Lucy Kendal has it, although she
greatly desired some. We women are selfish in some things, my
dear man. It's a most delicious perfume."

"Yes," said Sir Frank, staring at her, "and very strong."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Only I should think that such a perfume would be good
for the cold you contracted by going to London last night."

Mrs. Jasher turned suddenly pale under her rouge, and her hand
clenched the fan so tightly as to break the handle.

"I have not been to London for quite a month," she faltered.
"What a strange remark!"

"A true one," said the baronet, fumbling in the pocket of his
jacket. "You went to London last night by the seven o'clock
train to post this," and he held out the anonymous letter.

The widow, now quite pale, and looking years older, sat up on the
couch with a painful effort, which suggested old age.

"I don't understand," she said, trying to speak calmly. "I was
not in London, and I did not post any letter. If you came here
to insult me--"

"There can be no insult in asking a few questions," said Random,
throwing aside his stiffness and speaking decisively. "I
received this letter, which bears a London postmark, by the
mid-day post. The handwriting is disguised, and there is neither
address nor signature nor date. You manufactured your
communication very cleverly, Mrs. Jasher, but you forgot that the
Chinese perfume might betray you."

"The perfume! the perfume!" Mrs. Jasher gasped and saw in a
moment how the late conversation had led her to fall into a trap.

"The letter retains traces of the perfume you use," went on the
baronet relentlessly. "I have a remarkably keen sense of smell,
and, as scent is a most powerful aid to memory, I speedily
recollected that you used this especial perfume. You told me a
few moments ago that no one else used it, and so you have proved
the truth of my statement that this letter"--he tapped it--"is
written by you."

"It's a lie--a mistake," stuttered Mrs. Jasher, now at bay and
looking dangerous. Her society veneer was stripped off, and the
adventuress pure and simple came to the surface.

Indignant at the way in which she had deceived everyone, and
having much at stake, Random did not spare her.

"It is not a mistake," he insisted; "neither is it a lie. When
I became aware that you must have written the letter, I drove at
once to Jessum to see if you had gone to London, as you had
posted it there. I learned from the station master and from a
porter that you went to town by the seven o'clock train and
returned by the midnight."

Mrs. Jasher leaped to her feet.

"They could not recognize me. I wore--" Then she stopped,
confused at having so plainly betrayed herself.

"You wore a veil. All the same, Mrs. Jasher, you are too well
known hereabouts for anyone to fail to recognize you. Besides,
your remark just now proves that I am right. You wrote this
blackmailing letter, and I demand an explanation."

"I have none to give," muttered the woman fiercely, and fighting
every inch.

"If you refuse to explain to me you shall to the police," said
Sir Frank, rising and making for the door.

Mrs. Jasher flung herself forward and clung to him.

"For God's sake, don't!"

"Then you will explain? You will tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Who murdered Sidney Bolton."

"I do not know. I swear I do not know," she cried feverishly.

"That is ridiculous," said Random coldly. "You say in this
letter that you can hang me or save me. As you know that I am
innocent, you must be aware who is guilty."

"It's all bluff. I know nothing," said Mrs. Jasher, releasing
his arm and throwing herself on the couch. "I only wished to get
money."

"Five thousand pounds--eh? Rather a large order," sneered
Random, replacing the letter in his pocket. "You would not ask
that sum for nothing: you must be aware of the truth. I
suspected many people, Mrs. Jasher, but never you."

The woman rose and flung out her arms.

"No," she said in a deep voice, and fighting like a rat in a
corner. "I tricked you all down here. Sir Frank, I will tell
you the truth."

"About the murder?"

"I know nothing of that. About myself."

Random shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll hear about yourself first," he said. "I can learn details
concerning the murder later. Go on."

"I know nothing of the murder or of the theft of the emeralds--"

"Yet you hid the mummy in this house, and afterwards placed it in
your arbor to be found by the Professor, for some reason."

"I know nothing about that either," muttered Mrs. Jasher
doggedly, and with very white lips. "That letter you have traced
to me is all bluff."

"Then you admit having written it?"

"Yes," she said sullenly. "You know too much, and it is useless
for me to deny the truth in the face of the evidence you bring
against me. I would fight though," she added, raising her head
like a snake its crest, "if I was not sick and tired of
fighting."

"Fighting?"

"Yes, against trouble and worry and money difficulties and
creditors. Oh," she struck her breast, "what do you know of
life, you rich, easy-going man? I have been in the depths, and
not through my own fault. I had a bad mother, a bad husband. I
was dragged in the mire by those who should have helped me to
rise. I have starved for days; I have wept for years; in all
God's earth there is no more miserable a creature than I am."

"Kindly talk without so much melodrama," said Random cruelly.

"Ah," Mrs. Jasher sat down and locked her hands together, "you
don't believe me. I daresay you don't understand, for life, real
life, is a sealed book to you. It is useless for me to appeal to
your sympathy, for you are so very ignorant. Let us stick to
facts. What do you wish to know?"

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