The Green Mummy

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Hope was quite agreeable, but just as Random composed himself to
uneasy slumber, Jane, haggard and red-eyed, came hastily into the
dining-room.

"If you please, gentlemen, the doctor wants you to come and see
mistress. She is sensible, and--"

The two waited to hear no more, but went hastily but softly into
the room wherein lay the dying woman. Robinson sat by the
bedside, holding his patient's hand and feeling her pulse. He
placed his finger on his lips as the men entered gently, and at
the same moment Mrs. Jasher's voice, weak from exhaustion,
sounded through the room, which was dimly illuminated by one
candle. The newcomers halted in obedience to Robinson's signal.

"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Jasher weakly, for, in spite of the
care exercised, she had evidently heard the footsteps.

"Mr. Hope and Sir Frank Random," whispered the doctor, speaking
into the dying woman's ear. "They came in time to save you."

"In time to see me die," she murmured; "and I can't die, unless
I tell the truth. I am glad Random is there; he is a kind-hearted
boy, and treated me better than he need have done. I--oh--some
brandy--brandy."

Robinson gave her some in a spoon.

"Now lie quietly and do not attempt to speak," he commanded.
"You need all your strength."

"I do--to tell that which I wish to tell," gasped Mrs. Jasher,
trying to raise herself. "Sir Frank! Sir Frank!" Her voice
sounded hoarse and weak.

"Yes, Mrs. Jasher," said the young man, coming softly to the
bedside.

She thrust out a weak hand and clutched him.

"You must be my father-confessor, and hear all. You got the
emerald?"

"What!" Random recoiled in astonishment, "Did you--"

"Yes, I sent it to you as a wedding present. I was sorry and I
was afraid; and I--I--" She paused again, gasping.

The doctor intervened and gave her more brandy.

"You must not talk," he insisted severely, "or I shall turn Sir
Frank and Mr. Hope out of the room."

"No! no! Give me more brandy--more--more." and when the doctor
placed a tumbler to her lips, she drank so greedily that he had
to take the glass away lest she should do herself harm. But the
ardent spirit put new life into her, and with a superhuman effort
she suddenly reared herself in the bed.

"Come here, Hope--come here, Random," she said in a much
stronger voice. "I have much to tell you. Yes, I took the
emerald after dark and threw it into the sentry box when the man
wasn't looking. I escaped your spy, Random, and I escaped the
notice of the sentry. I walked like a cat, and like a cat I can
see in the dark. I am glad you have got the emerald."

"Where did you get it?" asked Random quietly.

"That's a long story. I don't know that I have the strength to
tell it. I have written it out."

"You have written it out?" said Hope quickly, and drawing near.

"Yes. Jane thought that I was writing letters, but I was writing
out the whole story of the murder. You were good to me, Random,
you dear boy, and on the impulse of the moment I took the emerald
to you. I was sorry when I got back, but it was too late then to
repent, as I did not dare to go near the Fort again. Your spy
who watched might have discovered me the second time. I then
thought that I would write out the story of the murder, so as to
exonerate myself."

"Then you are not guilty of Bolton's death?" asked Sir Frank,
puzzled, for her confession was somewhat incoherent.

"No. I did not strangle him. But I know who did. I have
written it all down. I was just finishing when I heard the
tapping at the window. I let him in and he tried to get the
confession, for I told him what I had done."

"Who did you tell?" asked Hope, much excited.

Mrs. Jasher took no notice.

"The confession is lying on my desk--all the sheets of paper are
loose. I had no time to bind them together, for he came in. He
wanted the emerald, and the confession. I told him that I had
given the emerald to you, Random, and that I had confessed all in
writing. Then he went mad and flew at me with a dreadful knife.
He knocked over the candles and the lamp. Everything went out
and all was darkness, and I lay crying for help, with that devil
stabbing--stabbing--ah--"

"Who, in heaven's name, is the man?" demanded Random, standing up
in his eagerness. But Mrs. Jasher had fallen back in a faint,
and Robinson was again supplying her with brandy.

"You had better leave the room, you two," he said, "or I can't be
answerable for her life."

"I must stay and learn the truth," said Random determinedly,
"and you, Hope, go into the parlor and find that confession. It
is on the desk, as she said, all loose sheets. No doubt it was
the confession which the man she refers to tried to secure when
he came back the second time. He may make another attempt, or
Painter may go to sleep. Hurry! hurry!"

Archie needed no second telling, as he realized what hung on the
securing of the confession. He stole swiftly out of the room,
closing the door after him. Faint as was the sound, Mrs. Jasher
heard it and opened her eyes.

"Do not go, Random," she said faintly. "I have yet much to say,
although the confession will tell you all. I am half sorry I
wrote it out--at least I was--and perhaps should have burnt it
had I not met with this accident."

"Accident!" echoed Sir Frank scornfully. "Murder you mean."

The sinister word galvanized the dying woman in sudden strong
life, and she reared herself again on the bed.

"Murder! Yes, it is murder," she cried loudly. "He killed
Sidney Bolton to get the emeralds, and he killed me to make me
close my mouth."

"Who stabbed you? Speak! speak!" cried Random anxiously.

"Cockatoo. He is guilty of my death and Bolton's," and she fell
back, dead.

CHAPTER XXV

THE MILLS OF GOD

In the cold gray hours of the morning, Hope and his friend left
the cottage wherein such a tragedy had taken place. The dead
woman was lying stiff and white on her bed under a winding sheet,
which had already been strewn with many-hued chrysanthemums taken
from the pink parlor by the weeping Jane. The wretched woman who
had led so stormy and unhappy a life had at least one sincere
mourner, for she had always been kind to the servant, who formed
her entire domestic staff, and Jane would not hear a word said
against the dead. Not that anyone did say anything; for Random
and Hope kept the contents of the confession to themselves.
There would be time enough for Mrs. Jasher's reputation to be
smirched when those same contents were made public.

When the poor woman died, Random left the doctor and the servant
to look after the corpse, and went into the parlor. Here he met
Hope with the confession in his hand. Luckily, Painter was not
in the room at the moment, else he would have prevented the
artist from taking away the same. Hope--as directed by Mrs.
Jasher--had found the confession, written on many sheets, lying
on the desk. It broke off abruptly towards the end, and was not
signed. Apparently at this point Mrs. Jasher had been
interrupted--as she had said--by the tapping of Cockatoo at the
window. Probably she had admitted him at once, and on her
refusal to give him the emerald, and on her confessing what she
had written, he had overturned the lights for the purpose of
murdering her. Only too well had the Kanaka succeeded in his
wickedness.

Archie slipped the confession into his pocket before the
policeman returned, and then left the cottage with Random and the
doctor, since nothing else could now be done. It was between
seven and eight, and the chilly dawn was breaking, but the
sea-mist still lay heavily over the marshes, as though it were
the winding sheet of the dead. Robinson went to his own house to
get his trap and drive into Jessum, there to catch the train and
ferry to Pierside. It was necessary that Inspector Date should
be informed of this new tragedy without delay, and as Constable
Painter was engaged in watching the cottage, there was no
messenger available but Dr. Robinson. Random indeed offered to
send a soldier, or to afford Robinson the use of the Fort
telephone, but the doctor preferred to see Date personally, so as
to detail exactly what had happened. Perhaps the young medical
man had an eye to becoming better known, for the improvement of
his practice; but he certainly seemed anxious to take a prominent
part in the proceedings connected with the murder of Mrs. Jasher.

When Robinson parted from them, Random and Hope went to the
lodgings of the latter, so as to read over the confession and
learn exactly to what extent Mrs. Jasher had been mixed up in the
tragedy of the green mummy. She had declared herself innocent
even on her death-bed, and so far as the two could judge at this
point, she certainly had not actually strangled Sidney Bolton.
But it might be--and it appeared to be more than probable--that
she was an accessory after the fact. But this they could learn
from the confession, and they sat in Hope's quiet little
sitting-room, in which the fire had been just lighted by the
artist's landlady, with the scattered sheets neatly ranged before
them.

"Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee, or a whisky and soda,"
suggested Archie, "before starting to read?"

"I should," assented Random, who looked weary and pale. "The
events of the night have somewhat knocked me up. Coffee for
choice--nice, black, strong, hot coffee."

Hope nodded and went to order the same. When he returned he sat
down, after closing the door carefully, and proceeded to read.
But before he could speak Random raised his hand.

"Let us chat until the coffee comes in," he said; "then we shall
not be interrupted when reading."

"All right," said Hope. "Have a cigar!"

"No, thanks. I have been smoking all the night. I shall sit
here by the fire and wait for the coffee. You look chippy
yourself."

"And small wonder," said Archie wearily. "We little thought when
we left the Fort last night what a time we were going to have.
Fancy Mrs. Jasher having sent you the emerald after all!"

"Yes. She repented, as she said, and yet I dare say--as she
also said--she was sorry that she acted on her impulse. If she
had not been stabbed by that damned Cockatoo, she would no doubt
have destroyed that confession. I expect she wrote that also on
the impulse of the moment."

"She confessed as much," said Hope, leaning his head on his hand
and staring into the fire. "She must have been cognizant of the
truth all along. I wonder if she was an accessory before or
after the fact?"

"What I wonder," said Random, after a moment's thought, "is,
what Braddock has to do with the matter?"

Hope raised his head in surprise.

"Why, nothing. Mrs. Jasher did not say a word against Braddock."

"I know that. All the same, Cockatoo was completely under the
thumb of the Professor, and probably was instructed by him to
strangle Bolton."

"That is impossible," cried the artist, much agitated. "Think of
what you are saying, Random. What a terrible thing it would be
for Lucy if the Professor were guilty in such a way as you
suggest!"

"Really, I fail to see that. Miss Kendal is no relation to
Braddock save by marriage. His iniquities have nothing to do
with her, or with you."

"But it's impossible, I tell you, Random. Throughout the whole
of this case Braddock has acted in a perfectly innocent way."

"That's just it," said Sir Frank caustically; "he has acted. In
spite of his pretended grief for the loss of the emeralds, I
should not be surprised to learn from that," he nodded towards
the confession on the table, "that he was in possession of the
missing gem. Cockatoo had no reason to steal the emeralds
himself, setting aside the fact that he probably would not know
their value, being but a semi-civilized savage. He acted under
orders from his master, and although Cockatoo strangled Bolton,
the Professor is really the author and the gainer and the moving
spirit."

"You would make Braddock an accessory before the fact."

"Yes, and Mrs. Jasher an accessory after the fact. Cockatoo is
the link, as the actual criminal, who joins the two in a guilty
partnership. No wonder Braddock intended to make that woman his
wife even though he did not love her, for she knew a jolly sight
too much for his peace of mind."

"This is horrible," murmured Hope desperately; "but it is mere
theory. We cannot be sure until we read the confession."

"We'll be sure soon, then, for here comes the coffee."

This last remark Random made when a timid knock came to the door,
and a moment later the landlady entered with a tray bearing cups,
saucers, and a jug of steaming coffee. She was a meek, reticent
woman who entered and departed in dismal silence, and in a few
moments the two young men were quite alone with the door closed.
They drank a cup of coffee each, and then Hope proceeded to read
the confession.

The story told by Mrs. Jasher commenced with a short account of
her early life. It appeared that her father was a ruined
gentleman and a gambler, and that her mother had been an actress.
She was dragged up in a Bohemian sort of way until she attained a
marriageable age, when her mother, who seemed to have been both
wicked and hard-hearted, forced her to marry a comparatively
wealthy man called Jasher. The elderly husband--for Jasher was
not young--treated his wife very badly, and, infected with the
spirit of gambling by her father, lost all his money. Mrs.
Jasher then went with him to America and performed on the stage
in order to keep the home together. She had one child, but it
died, much to her grief, yet also much to her relief, as she was
so miserable and poor. Mrs. Jasher gave a scanty account of
sordid years of trouble and trial, of failure and sorrow. She
and her husband roamed all over America, and then went to
Australia and New Zealand, where they lived a wretched existence
for many years. Finally the husband died of strong drink at an
advanced age, leaving Mrs. Jasher a somewhat elderly widow.

The poor woman again took to the stage and tried to earn her
bread, but was unsuccessful. Afterwards she lectured. Then she
kept a boarding establishment, and finally went out as a nurse.
In every way, it would seem, she tried to keep her head above
water, and roamed the world like a bird of passage, finding rest
nowhere for the sole of her foot. Yet throughout her story both
the young men could see that she had always aspired to a quiet
and decent, respectable existence, and that only force of
circumstances had flung her into the whirlpool of life.

"As I said," remarked Random at this stage, "the miserable
creature was more sinned against than sinning."

"Her moral sense seemed to have become blunted, however," said
Archie doubtfully.

"And small wonder, amidst such surroundings; but it seems to me
that she was much better under the circumstances than many
another woman would have been. Go on."

In Melbourne Mrs. Jasher made a lucky speculation in mines, which
brought her one thousand pounds. With this she came to England,
and resolved to make a bid for respectability. Chance led her
into the neighborhood of Gartley, and thinking that if she set up
her tent in this locality she might manage to marry an officer
from the Fort--since amidst such dismal surroundings a young man
might be the more easily fascinated by a woman of the world--she
took the cottage amidst the marshes at a small rent. Here she
hoped to eke out what money she had left--a few hundreds--until
the coveted marriage should take place. Afterwards she met
Professor Braddock and determined to marry him, as a man more
easy to manage. She was successful in enlisting Lucy on her
side, and until the green mummy brought its bad luck to the
Pyramids everything went capitally.

It was in connection with the name of Bolton that the first
mention was made of the green mummy. Sidney was a clever young
man, although very lowly born, and having been taken up by
Professor Braddock as an assistant, could hope some day to make a
position. Braddock was educating him, although he paid him very
little in the way of wages. Sidney fell in love with Mrs.
Jasher, and in some way--she did not mention how--gained her
confidence. Perhaps the lonely woman was glad to have a
sympathetic friend. At all events she told her past history to
Sidney, and mentioned that she desired to marry Braddock. But
Sidney insisted that she should marry him, and promised to make
enough money to satisfy her that he was a good match, setting
aside his humble birth, for which Mrs. Jasher cared nothing.

It was then that Sidney related what he had discovered.
Braddock, when in Peru many years before, had tried to get
mummies for some scientific reason. When Hervey--then known as
Vasa--promised to procure him the mummy of the last Inca,
Braddock was extremely pleased. Hervey stole the mummy and also
the copy of the manuscript which was written in Latin. He sent
this latter to Braddock--who was then at Cuzco--as an earnest of
his success in procuring the mummy, and when the Professor
returned to Lima the mummy was to be handed to him.
Unfortunately, Braddock was carried into captivity for one year,
and when he escaped Vasa had disappeared with the mummy. As the
Professor had deciphered the Latin manuscript, he knew of the
emeralds, and for years had been hunting for the mummy--sure to
be recognized from its peculiar green color--in order to get the
jewels, and thus secure money for his Egyptian expedition. All
through, it seems, the Professor was actuated by purely
scientific enthusiasm, as in the abstract he cared very little
for hard cash. Bolton told Mrs. Jasher that Braddock explained
how much he desired to get the mummy, but he did not mention
about the jewels. For a long time Sidney was under the
impression that his master merely wanted the mummy to see the
difference between the Egyptian and Peruvian modes of embalming.

Then one day Sidney chanced on the Latin manuscript, and learned
that Braddock's real reason for getting the mummy was to procure
the emeralds which were held in the grip of the dead. Sidney
kept this knowledge to himself, and Braddock never guessed that
his assistant knew the truth. Then unexpectedly Braddock
stumbled across the advertisement describing the green mummy for
sale in Malta. From the color he made sure that it was that of
Inca Caxas, and so moved heaven and earth to get money to buy it.
At length he did, from Archie Hope, on condition that he
consented to the marriage of his step-daughter with the young
man. Thinking that Sidney was ignorant of the jewels, he sent
him to bring the mummy home.

Sidney told Mrs. Jasher that he would try and steal the jewels in
Malta or on board the tramp steamer. Failing that, he would
delay the delivery of the mummy to Braddock on some excuse and
rob it at Pierside. To make sure of escaping, he borrowed a
disguise from his mother, alleging that Hope wanted the same to
clothe a model. Sidney intended to take these clothes with him,
and, after stealing the jewels, to escape disguised as an old
woman. As he was slender and clean-shaven and a capital actor,
he could easily manage this.

Then he arranged that Mrs. Jasher should join him in Paris, and
they would sell the emeralds, and go to America, there to marry
and live happily ever afterwards, like a fairy tale.

Unfortunately for the success of this plan, Mrs. Jasher thought
that the Professor would make a more distinguished husband, so
she betrayed all that Sidney, had arranged.

"What a beastly thing to do!" interrupted Random, disgusted. "It
is not as if she wanted to help Braddock. I think less of Mrs.
Jasher than ever I did. She might have remembered that there is
honor amongst thieves."

"Well, she is dead, poor soul!" said Hope with a sigh. "God
knows that if she sinned, she has paid cruelly for her sin,"
after which remark, as Sir Frank was silent, he resumed his
reading.

Braddock was furious when he learned of his assistant's projected
trickery, and he determined to circumvent him. He agreed to
marry Mrs. Jasher, as, if he had not done so, she could have
warned Sidney and he could have escaped with both the mummy and
the jewels by conniving with Hervey. The Professor could not
risk that, as, remembering Hervey as Gustav Vasa, he was aware
how clever and reckless he was. Whether Braddock ever intended
to marry the widow in the end it is hard to say, but he certainly
pretended to consent to the engagement, which was mainly brought
about by Lucy. Then came the details of the murder so far as
Mrs. Jasher knew.

One evening--in fact on the evening when the crime was committed
--the woman was walking in her garden late. In the moonlight she
saw Braddock and Cockatoo go down along the cinderpath to the
jetty near the Fort. Wondering what they were doing, she waited
up, and heard and saw them--for it was still moonlight--come
back long after midnight. The next day she heard of the murder,
and guessed that the Professor and his slave--for Cockatoo was
little else--had rowed up to Pierside in a boat and there had
strangled Sidney and stolen the mummy. She saw Braddock and
accused him. The Professor had then opened the case, and had
pretended astonishment when discovering the corpse of the man
whom Cockatoo had strangled, as he knew perfectly well.

Braddock at first denied having been to Pierside, but Mrs. Jasher
insisted that she would tell the police, so he was forced to make
a clean breast of it to the woman.

"Now for it," said Random, settling himself to hear details of
the crime, for he had often wondered how it had been executed.

"Braddock," read Archie from the confession, for Mrs. Jasher did
not trouble herself with a polite prefix--"Braddock explained
that when he received a letter from Sidney stating that he would
have to remain with the mummy for a night in Pierside, he guessed
that his treacherous assistant intended to effect the robbery.
It seems that Sidney by mistake had left behind the disguise in
which he intended to escape. Aware of this through me"--Mrs.
Jasher referred to herself--"he made Cockatoo assume the dress
and row up the river to the Sailor's Rest. The Kanaka easily
could be mistaken for a woman, as he also, like Sidney, was
slender and smooth-chinned. Also, he wore the shawl over his
head to disguise his mop of frizzy hair as much as possible, and
for the purpose of concealing his tattooed face. In the darkness
--it was after nine o'clock--he spoke to Sidney through the
window, as he had seen him there earlier, when searching for him.
Cockatoo said that Sidney was much afraid when he heard that his
purpose had been discovered by the Professor. He offered a share
of the plunder to the Kanaka, and Cockatoo agreed, saying he
would come back late, and that Sidney was to admit him into the
bedroom so that they could open the mummy and steal the jewels.
Sidney quite believed that Cockatoo was heart and soul with him,
especially as the cunning Kanaka swore that he was weary of his
master's tyranny. It was when Cockatoo was talking thus that he
was seen by Eliza Flight, who mistook him--very naturally--for
a woman. Cockatoo then returned by boat to the Gartley jetty and
told his master. Afterwards, the Professor, at a much later
hour, went down to the jetty and was rowed up to Pierside by the
Kanaka."

"That was when Mrs. Jasher saw them," said Random, much
interested.

"Yes," said Archie. "And then, if you remember; she watched for
the return of the couple."

"It was nearly midnight when the boat was brought alongside the
sloping stone bank of the alley which ran past the Sailor's Rest.
No one was about at that hour, not even a policeman, and there
was no light in Sidney Bolton's window. Braddock was much
agitated as he thought that Sidney had already escaped. He
waited in the boat and sent Cockatoo to knock at the window.
Then a light appeared and the window was silently opened. The
Kanaka slipped in and remained there for some ten minutes after
closing the window. When he returned, the light was
extinguished. He whispered to his master that Sidney had opened
the packing case and the mummy coffin, and had ripped the
swathings to get the jewels. When Sidney would not hand over the
jewels to the Kanaka, as the latter wanted him to, Cockatoo,
already prepared with the window cord, which he had silently
taken from the blind, sprang upon the unfortunate assistant and
strangled him. Cockatoo told this to his horrified master, and
wanted him to come back to hide the corpse in the packing case.
Braddock refused, and then Cockatoo told him that he would throw
the jewels--which he had taken from Sidney's body--into the
river. The position of master and servant was reversed, and
Braddock was forced to obey.

"The Professor slipped silently ashore and into the room. The
two men relighted the candle and pulled down the blind. They
then placed the corpse of Sidney in the packing case, and screwed
the same down in silence. When this was completed, they were
about to carry the mummy in its coffin--the lid of which they
had replaced--to the boat, when they heard distant footsteps,
probably those of a policeman on his beat. At once they
extinguished the candle, and--as Braddock told Mrs. Jasher--he,
for one, sat trembling in the dark. But the policeman--if the
footsteps were those of a policeman--passed up another street,
and the two were safe. Without relighting the candle, they
silently slipped the mummy through the window, Cockatoo within
and Braddock without. The case and its contents were not heavy,
and it was not difficult for the two men to take it to the boat.
When it was safely bestowed, Cockatoo--who was as cunning as the
devil, according to his master returned to the bedroom, and
unlocked the door. He afterwards passed a string through the
joining of the upper and lower windows, and managed to shut the
snib. Afterwards he came to the boat and rowed it back to
Gartley. On the way Cockatoo told his master that Sidney had
left instructions that the packing case should be taken next
morning to the Pyramids, so there was nothing to fear. The mummy
was hidden in a hole under the jetty and covered with grass."

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