The Green Mummy

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There remained Hervey. Random laughed aloud when the name came
into his puzzled head. That buccaneer was the last person to
surrender his plunder or to feel compunction in committing a
crime. Once the skipper got his grip on two jewels, worth
endless money, he would never let them go--not even one of them.
Arguing thus, it seemed that Hervey was out of the running, and
Random could think of no one else. In this dilemma he remembered
that two heads were better than one, and, before going into
dinner, he sent a note to Archie Hope, asking him to come to the
Fort as speedily as possible.

Sir Frank was somewhat dull at dinner on that evening, and
scarcely responded to the joking remarks of his brother officers.
These jocularly put his preoccupation down to love, for it was an
open secret that the baronet admired the fair Peruvian, although
no one as yet knew that Random was legally engaged with Don
Pedro's consent. The young man good-humoredly stood all the
chaff hurled at him, but seized the opportunity to slip away to
his quarters as soon as coffee came on the table and the smoking
began. It was nine o'clock before he returned to his room, and
here he found Hope waiting for him impatiently.

"I see you have been dining at the Pyramids," said Random, seeing
that Hope was in evening dress.

Archie nodded.

"Yes. I don't put on this kit to have my humble chop at my
lodgings. But the Professor asked me to dinner to talk over
matters."

"What does he say?" asked Random, looking for the cigarette box.

"Oh, he is very angry with Mrs. Jasher, and considers that she
has swindled him. He called to see her this afternoon, and--so
he says--had a stormy interview with her."

"I don't wonder at that, if he speaks as he generally does," said
the other grimly, and pushing along the cigarettes, "There you
are! The whisky and soda are on yonder table. Make yourself
comfortable, and tell me what the Professor intends to do."

"Well," said Archie, turning half round from the side table where
he was pouring out the whisky, "he had already started action,
by sending Cockatoo to live at the Sailor's Rest and spy on
Hervey."

"What rubbish! Hervey is, going away to-morrow in The Firefly,
bound for Algiers. Nothing is to be learned from him."

"So I told the Professor," said Hope, returning to the armchair
near the fire, "and I mentioned that Don Pedro had induced the
skipper to write out a full account of the theft of the mummy
from Lima thirty years ago. I also said that the signed paper
would be handed in at the Gartley jetty when The Firefly came
down stream to-morrow night."

"Humph! And what did Braddock say to that?"

"Nothing much. He merely stated that whatever Hervey said toward
proving the ownership of your future father-in-law, that he
intended to stick to the embalmed corpse of Inca Caxas, and also
that he intended to claim the emeralds when they turned up."

Random rose and went to the drawer of his desk.

"I am afraid he has lost one emerald, at all events," he said,
unlocking the drawer.

"What's that?" said Hope sharply. "Why did you--oh, gosh!" He
jumped up with an amazed look as Random held up the magnificent
gem, from which streamed vividly green flames in the mellow
lamplight. "Oh, gosh!" gasped the artist again. "Where the
devil did you get that?"

"I sent for you to tell you," said Sir Frank, giving the jewel
into his friend's hand and coming back to his seat. "It was
found in the sentry box."

Hope stared at the great jewel and then at the soldier.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded. "How the dickens could
it be found in a sentry box? You must be making a mistake."

"Not a bit of it. It was found on the floor of the box by the
sentry, as I tell you, and I have sent to consult with you as to
how the deuce it got there."

"Hervey," muttered Archie, fascinated by the gem.

Random shrugged his square shoulders.

"Catch that Yankee Shylock returning anything he got his grip on,
even as a wedding present."

"A wedding present," said Hope, more at sea than ever. "If you
don't mind giving me details, old chap, my head would buzz less."

"I rather think that it will buzz more," said Random dryly, and,
producing the brown paper in which the gem had been wrapped, and
the inscribed paper found within, he related all that had
happened.

Archie listened quietly and did not interrupt, but the puzzled
look on his face grew more pronounced.

"Well," ended Random, seeing that no remark was made when he had
finished, "what do you think?"

"Lord knows! I'll go out of my mind if these sort of things come
along. I am a simple sort of chap, and have no use for mysteries
which beat all the detective stories I have ever read. That sort
of thing is all very well in fiction, but in real life--humph!
What are you going to do?"

"Give back the emerald to Don Pedro."

"Of course, though, it is given to you for a wedding present.
And then?"

"Then"--Random stared into the fire--" I don't know. I asked
you in to assist me."

"Willingly; but how?"

Random pondered for a few moments.

"Who sent that emerald to me, do you think?" he asked, looking
squarely at the artist.

Hope meditatively turned the jewel in his long fingers.

"Why not ask Mrs. Jasher?" he suggested suddenly.

"No!" Sir Frank shook his head. "I fancied it might be her, but
it cannot be. If she is guilty--as she must be, should she have
sent the emerald--she would not part with her plunder when she
is so hard up. I am beginning to believe, Hope, that what she
said was true about the letter."

"How do you mean exactly?"

"That the letter was mere bluff and that she really knows nothing
about the crime. By the way, did Braddock learn anything?"

"Not a thing. He merely said that the two of them fought. I
expect Braddock stormed and Mrs. Jasher retorted. Both of them
have too much tongue-music to come to any understanding. By the
way--to echo, your own phrase--you had better put away this gem
or I shall be strangling you myself in order to gain possession
of it. The mere sight of that gorgeous color tempts me beyond my
strength."

Random laughed and locked the jewel in his drawer. Hope
suggested that with such a flimsy lock it was unsafe, but the
baronet shook his head.

"It is safer here than in a woman's jewel case," he asserted.
"No one looks to my drawer, and certainly no one would expect to
find a crown jewel of this description in my quarters. Well," he
came back to his seat, slipping his keys into his trouser
pocket, "the whole thing puzzles me."

"Why not do as I suggest and go to Mrs. Jasher? In any case you
are going there to-night, are you not?"

"Yes. I want to decide what to do about the woman. I had
intended to go alone, but as you are here you may as well come
also."

"I shall be delighted. What do you intend to do?"

"Help her," said Random briefly.

"She doesn't deserve it," replied Hope, lighting a fresh
cigarette.

"Does anyone ever deserve anything?" asked Sir Frank cynically.
"What does Miss Kendal think of the business? I suppose Braddock
told her. He has too long a tongue to keep anything to himself."

"He told her at dinner, when I was present. Lucy is quite on
your side. She says that she had known Mrs. Jasher for months
and that there is good in her, although I am bound to say that
Lucy was a trifle shocked."

"Does she want Mrs. Jasher to marry her father now?"

"Her step-father," corrected Archie immediately. "No, that is
out of the question. But she would like Mrs. Jasher to be helped
out of her difficulties and have a fair start. It was only by
the greatest diplomacy that I prevented Lucy going to see the
wretched woman this evening."

"Why did you prevent her?"

Archie colored.

"I daresay I am a trifle prudish," he replied, "but after what
has happened I do not wish Lucy to associate with Mrs. Jasher.
Do you blame me?"

"No, I don't. All the same, I don't think that Mrs. Jasher is an
immoral woman by any means."

"Perhaps not; but we needn't discuss her character, as we know
precious little of her past, and she no doubt told you the story
that best suited herself. I think it will be best to make her
tell all she knows this evening, and then send her away with a
sum of money in her pocket to begin a new life."

"I shall help her certainly," said Random, with his eyes on the
fire, "but can't say exactly how. It is my opinion that the
poor wretch is more sinned against than sinning."

"You are a soldier with a conscience, Random."

The other laughed.

"Why shouldn't a soldier have a conscience? Do you take your
idea of officers from the lady novelist, who makes us out to be
all idle idiots?"

"Not exactly. All the same, many a man would not take the
trouble to behave as you are doing to this unlucky woman."

"Any man, who was a man, whether soldier or civilian, would help
such a poor creature. And I believe, Hope, that you will help
her also."

The artist leaped to his feet impulsively.

"Of course. I'm with you right along, as Hervey would say. But
first, before deciding what we shall do to set Mrs. Jasher on her
legs again, let us hear what she has to say."

"She can say nothing more than she has said," remonstrated
Random.

"I don't believe that," replied Hope, reaching for his overcoat.
"You may choose to believe that the letter was the outcome of
bluff. But I really and truly think that Mrs. Jasher is in the
know. What is more, I believe that Bolton got her those clothes,
and that she was the woman who talked to him--went there to see
how the little scheme was progressing."

"If I thought that," said Random coldly, "I would not help Mrs.
Jasher."

"Oh, yes, you would. The greater the sinner the more need she or
he has of help, you know, my dear fellow. But get your coat on,
and let us toddle. I don't suppose we need pistols."

Sir Frank laughed, as, aided by the artist, he struggled into his
military greatcoat.

"I don't suppose that Mrs. Jasher will be dangerous," he
remarked. "We'll get what we can out of her, and then arrange
what is best to be done to recoup her fallen fortunes. Then she
can go where she chooses, and we can,--as the French say--
return to our muttons."

"I think Donna Inez and Lucy would be annoyed to hear themselves
called muttons," laughed Archie, and the two men left the room.

The night was darker than ever, and a fine rain was falling
incessantly. When they left the dimly lighted archway of the
fort through the smaller, gate set in the larger one they stepped
into midnight blackness such as must have been spread over the
land of Egypt. In accordance with the primitive customs of
Gartley inhabitants, one of them at least should have been
furnished with a lantern, as it was no easy task to pick a clean
way through the mud.---However, Archie, knowing the surroundings
better even than Random, led the way, and they walked slowly
through the iron gate on the hard high road which led to the
Fort. Immediately beyond this they turned towards the narrow
cinder path which led through the marshes to Mrs. Jasher's
cottage, and toiled on cautiously through the misty rain, which
fell continuously. The fog was drifting up from the mouth of the
river and was growing so thick that they could not see the
somewhat feeble lights of the cottage. However, Archie's
instincts led him aright, and they blundered finally upon the
wooden gate. Here they paused in shocked surprise, for a woman's
scream rang out wildly and suddenly.

"What, in heaven's name, is that?" asked Hope, aghast.

"We must find out," breathed Random, and raced through the white
cotton-wool of the fog up the path. As he reached the veranda
the door opened and a woman came running out screaming. But
other screams inside the cottage still continued.

"What is the matter?" cried Random, seizing the woman.

She proved to be Jane.

"Oh, sir, my mistress is being murdered--"

Hope plunged past her into the corridor, not waiting to hear
more. The cries had died down to a low moaning, and he dashed
into the pink parlor to find it in smoky darkness. Striking a
match, he held it above his head. It showed Mrs. Jasher prone on
the floor, and a dark figure smashing its way through the flimsy
window. There was a snarl and the figure vanished as the match
went out.

CHAPTER XXIV

A CONFESSION

Jane was still being held by Sir Frank at the floor, and was
still screaming, fully convinced that her captor was a burglar,
in spite of having recognized him by his voice. Random was so
exasperated by her stupidity that he shook her.

"What is the matter, you fool?" he demanded. "Don't you know
that I am a friend?"

"Y-e-s, s-i-r," gasped Jane, fetching her breath again after the
shaking; "but go for the police. My mistress is being murdered."

"Mr. Hope is looking after that, and the screams have ceased.
Who was with your mistress?"

"I don't know, sir," sobbed the servant. "I didn't know anyone
had called, and then I heard the screaming. I looked into the
parlor to see what was the matter, but the lamp had been thrown
over and had gone out, and there was a dreadful struggle going on
in the darkness, so I screamed and ran out and then I--oh--oh"
Jane showed symptoms of renewed hysteria, and clutched Random
tightly, as a man came cautiously round the corner.

"Are you there, Random?" asked Hope's voice.

"It's so infernally dark and foggy that I have missed him."

"Missed who?"

"The man who was trying to murder Mrs. Jasher, He got her down
when I entered and struck a match. Then he dashed through the
window before I could catch him or even recognize him. He's
vanished in the mist."

"It's no use looking for him anyhow," said Random, peering into
the dense blackness, which was thick with damp. "We had better
see after Mrs. Jasher."

"Whom have you got there?"

"Jane--who seems to have lost her head."

"It's a mercy I haven't lost my life, sir, with burglars and
murderers all about the place," sobbed the girl, dropping on to
the veranda.

Random promptly hauled her to her feet.

"Go and get a candle, and keep calm if you can," he said in an
abrupt military voice. "This is no time to play the fool."

His sharpness had great effect on the girl, and she became much
more her usual self. Hope lighted another match, and the trio
proceeded through the passage towards the kitchen, where Jane had
left a lamp burning. Seizing this from its bracket, Sir Frank
retraced his way along the passage to the pink parlor, followed
closely by Hope and timorously by Jane. A dreadful scene
presented itself. The dainty little room was literally smashed
to pieces, as though a gigantic bull had been wallowing therein.
The lamp lay on the floor, surrounded by several extinguished
candles. It was a mercy that all the lights had been put out
when overturned, else the gim-crack cottage would have been long
since in a blaze. Chairs and tables and screens were also
overturned, and the one window had its rose-hued curtains torn
down and its glass broken, showing only too clearly the way in
which the murderer had escaped. And that the man who had
attacked Mrs. Jasher was a murderer could be seen from the stream
of blood that ran slowly from Mrs. Jasher's breast. Apparently
she had been stabbed in the lungs, for the wound was on the right
side. There she lay, poor woman, in her tawdry finery, crumpled
up, battered and bruised, dead amongst the ruins of her home.
Jane immediately began to scream again.

"Stop her, Hope," cried Random, who was kneeling by the body and
feeling the heart. "Mrs. Jasher is not dead. Hold your noise,
woman, and go for a doctor." This was to Jane, who, prevented
from screaming, took to whimpering.

"I had better go," said Hope quickly; "and I'll go to the Fort
and alarm the men. Perhaps they may catch the man."

"Can you describe him?"

"Of course not," said Archie indignantly. "I only caught a
glimpse of him by the feeble light of a lucifer match. Then he
leaped through the window and I after him. I made a grab at him,
but lost him in the mist. I don't know in the least what he is
like."

"Then how can anyone arrest him?" snapped Random, raising Mrs.
Jasher's head. "Give what alarm you like, but race for Robinson
up the village. We must save this poor woman's life, if only to
learn who killed her."

"But she isn't dead yet--she isn't dead yet," wailed Jane,
clapping her hands, while Hope, knowing the value of time,
promptly ran out of the house to get further assistance.

"She soon will be," said Sir Frank, whose temper was not of the
best at so critical a moment in dealing with a fool. "Go and
bring me brandy at once, and afterwards linen and hot water. We
must do our best to staunch this wound and revive her."

For the next quarter of an hour the man and the woman labored
hard to save Mrs. Jasher's life. Random bound up the wound in a
rough and ready fashion, and Jane fed the pale lips of her
mistress with sips of brandy. Mrs. Jasher gradually became more
alive, and a faint sigh escaped from her lips, as her wounded
bosom rose and fell with recovered breath. When Sir Frank was in
hopes that she would speak, she suddenly relapsed again into a
comatose state. Luckily at that moment Archie returned with
young Dr. Robinson at his heels, and also was followed by
Painter, the village constable, who had luckily been picked up in
the fog.

Robinson whistled as he looked at the insensible woman.

"She's had a narrow squeak," he muttered, lifting the body with
the assistance of Random.

"Will she recover?" questioned Hope anxiously.

"I can't tell you yet," answered the doctor; and with Sir Frank
he carried the heavy body of the widow into her bedroom. "How
did it happen?"

"That is my business," said Painter, who had followed, and who
was now filled with importance. "You look after the body, sir,
and I'll question these gentlemen and the servant."

"Servant yourself! Such sauce!" muttered Jane, with an angry
toss of her cap at the daring young policeman. "I know nothing.
I left my mistress in the parlor writing letters, and never heard
anyone come in. The bell didn't sound anyhow. The first thing I
knew that anything was wrong was on hearing the screams. When I
looked into the parlor the candles and the lamp were out, and
there was a struggle going on in the dark. Then I cried out,
very naturally, I'm sure, and ran straight into the arms of these
gentlemen, as soon as I could get the front door open."

After delivering this address, Jane was called away to assist the
doctor in the bedroom, and along with Archie and Random the
constable repaired to the pink parlor to hear what they had to
say. Of course they could tell him even less than Jane had told,
and Archie protested that he was quite unable to describe the man
who had dashed out of the window.

"Ah," said Painter sapiently, "he got out there; but how did he
enter?"

"No doubt by the door," said Random sharply.

"We don't know that, sir. Jane says she did not hear the bell."

"Mrs. Jasher might have let the man in, whomsoever he was,
secretly."

"Why should she, sir?"

"Ah! now you are asking more than I can tell you. Only Mrs.
Jasher can explain, and it seems to me that she will die."

Meanwhile, in some mysterious way the news of the crime had
spread through the village, and although it was growing late--
for it was past ten o'clock--a dozen or so of villagers came
along. Also there arrived a number of soldiers under a smart
sergeant, and to him Sir Frank explained what had happened. In
the fainthearted way--for the mist was now like cotton-wool--
the military and the civilians hunted through the marshes round
the cottage, hoping to come across the assassin hiding in a
ditch. Needless to say, they found no one and nothing, for it
was worse than looking for a needle in a bundle of hay. The man
had come out of the mist, and, after executing the deed, had
vanished into the mist, and there was not the very slightest
chance of finding him. Gradually, as it drew towards midnight,
the soldiers went back to the Fort, and the villagers to their
homes. But, along with the doctor and the constable, Hope and
his military friend stopped on. They were determined to get at
the root of the mystery, and when Mrs. Jasher became sensible she
would be able to reveal the truth.

"It's all of a piece with the sending of the emerald," said
Random to the artist, "and that is connected, as we know, with
the death of Bolton."

"Do you think that this man who has struck down Mrs. Jasher is
the same one who strangled Sidney Bolton?"

"I should think so. Perhaps Mrs. Jasher sent the emerald after
all, and this man killed her out of revenge."

"But how would he know that she had the emerald?"

"God knows! She may have been his accomplice."

Archie knit his brows.

"Who the devil can this mysterious person be?"

"I can only reply as you have done, my friend. God knows."

"Well, I am certain that God will not let him escape this time.
This will bring Gartley once more into notoriety," went on Hope.
"By the way, I saw one of the servants from the Pyramids here. I
hope the fool won't go home and frighten Lucy's life out of her."

"Go to the Pyramids and see her," suggested Sir Frank. "Mrs.
Jasher is still unconscious, and will be for hours, the doctor
tells me."

"It is too late to go to the Pyramids, Random."

"If they know of this new tragedy there, I'll bet they are not in
bed."

Hope nodded.

"All the same, I'll remain here until Mrs. Jasher can speak," he
said, and sat smoking with Random in the dining-room, as the most
comfortable room in the house.

Constable Painter camped, so to speak, in the drawing-room,
keeping guard over the scene of the crime, and had placed the
Chinese screen against the broken window to keep out the cold.
In the bedroom Jane and Dr. Robinson looked after the dying
woman. And dying she was, according to the young physician, for
he did not think she would live much longer. Round the lonely
cottage the sea-mist drifted white and thick, and the darkness
deepened, until--as the saying goes--it could have been cut
with a knife. Never was there so eerie and weary and sinister a
vigil.

Towards four o'clock Hope fell into a doze, while resting in an
arm-chair; but he was suddenly aroused from this by an
exclamation from Sir Frank, who had remained wide awake, smoking
cigar after cigar. In a moment the artist was on his feet, alert
and quick-brained.

"What is it?"

Random made for the dining-room door rapidly.

"I thought I heard Painter call out," he declared, and hastily
sought the parlor, followed by Hope.

The room was empty, but the screen before the broken window had
been thrown down, and they could see Painter's bulky form
immediately outside.

"What the deuce is the matter?" demanded Random, entering. "Did
you call out, Painter. I fancied I heard something."

The constable came in again.

"I did call out, sir," he confessed. "I was half asleep in that
chair, when I suddenly became wide awake, and believed I saw a
face looking at me round the corner of the screen. I jumped up,
calling for you, sir, and upset the screen."

"Well? well?" demanded Sir Frank impatiently, and seeing that
the man hesitated.

"I saw no one, sir. All the same, I had an idea, and I have
still, that a man came through the window and peered at me from
behind the screen."

"The man who attacked Mrs. Jasher?"

"I can't say, sir. But there was someone. At any rate he's gone
again, if he really did come, and there is no chance of finding
him. It's like pea-soup outside."

Hope and Random simultaneously stepped through the window, but
could not see an inch before them, so thick was the sea-fog and
so dense was the darkness. Returning, they replaced the screen,
and, telling Painter to be more on the alert, went back shivering
to the fire in the dining-room. When they were seated again,
Archie put a question.

"Do you think that policeman was dreaming?" he asked
meditatively.

"No," replied Random sharply. "I believe that the man who
assaulted Mrs. Jasher is hanging about, and ventured back into
the room, relying on the fog as a means of escape, should he be
spotted."

"But the man wouldn't be such a fool as to return into danger."

"Not unless he wanted something very badly," said Random
significantly.

Hope let the cigarette he was lighting fall.

"What do you mean?"

"I may be wrong, of course. But it is my impression that there
is something in the parlor which this man wants, and for which he
tried to murder Mrs. Jasher. We interrupted him, and he was
forced to flee. Hidden in the fog, he is lurking about to see if
he can't obtain what he has risked his neck to secure."

"What can it be?" murmured Archie, struck by the feasibility of
this theory.

"Perhaps the second emerald," remarked Sir Frank grimly.

"What! You don't think that--"

"I don't think anything. I am too tired to think at all.
However, Painter will keep his eyes open, and in the morning we
can search the room. The man has been in the house twice to get
what he wanted. He won't risk another attempt, now that he is
aware we are on the alert. I'm going to try and get forty winks.
You keep watch, as you have had your sleep."

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