CHAPTER XII. A DISCOVERY
Three days went by, and Professor Braddock still remained absent in London, although an occasional letter to Lucy requested such and such an article from the museum to be forwarded, sometimes by post and on other occasions by Cockatoo, who traveled up to town especially. The Kanaka always returned with the news that his master was looking well, but brought no word of the Professor’s return. Lucy was not surprised, as she was accustomed to Braddock’s vagaries.
Meanwhile Don Pedro, comfortably established at the Warrior Inn, wandered about Gartley in his dignified way, taking very little interest in the village, but a great deal in the Pyramids. As the Professor was absent, Lucy could not ask him to dinner, but she did invite him and Donna Inez to afternoon tea. Don Pedro was anxious to peep into the museum, but Cockatoo absolutely refused to let him enter, saying that his master had forbidden anyone to view the collection during his absence. And in this refusal Cockatoo was supported by Miss Kendal, who had a wholesome dread of her step-father’s rage, should he return and find that a stranger had been making free of his sacred apartments. The Peruvian gentleman expressed himself extremely disappointed, so much so, indeed, that Lucy fancied he believed Braddock had the green mummy hidden in the museum, in spite of the reported loss from the Sailor’s Rest.
Failing to get permission to range through the rooms of the Pyramids, Don Pedro paid occasional visits to Pierside and questioned the police regarding the Bolton murder. From Inspector Date he learned nothing of any importance, and indeed that officer expressed his belief that not until the Day of judgment would the truth become known. It then occurred to De Gayangos to explore the neighborhood of the Sailor’s Rest, and to examine that public-house himself. He saw the famous window through which the mysterious woman had talked to the deceased, and noted that it looked across a stony, narrow path to the water’s edge, wherefrom a rugged jetty ran out into the stream for some little distance. Nothing would have been easier, reflected Don Pedro, than for the assassin to enter by the window, and, having accomplished his deed, to leave in the same way, bearing the case containing the mummy. A few steps would carry the man and his burden to a waiting boat, and once the craft slipped into the mists on the river, all trace would be lost, as had truly happened. In this way the Peruvian gentleman believed the murder and the theft had been accomplished, but even supposing things had happened as he surmised, still, he was as far as ever from unraveling the mystery.
While Don Pedro searched for his royal ancestor’s corpse, and incidentally for the thief and murderer, his daughter was being wooed by Sir Frank Random. Heaven only knows what he saw in her – as Lucy observed to young Hope – for the girl had not a word to say for herself. She was undeniably handsome, and dressed with great taste, save for stray hints of barbaric delight in color, doubtless inherited from her Inca ancestors. All the same, she appeared to be devoid of small talk or great talk, or any talk whatsoever. She sat and smiled and looked like a handsome picture, but after her appearance had satisfied the eye, she left much to be desired. Yet Sir Frank approved of her stately quietness, and seemed anxious to make her his wife. Lucy, in spite of the fact that he had so speedily got over her refusal to marry him, was anxious that he should be happy with Donna Inez, whom he appeared to love, and afforded him every opportunity of meeting the lady, so that he might prosecute his wooing. All the same, she wondered that he should desire to marry an iceberg, and Donna Inez, with her silent tongue and cold smiles, was little else. However, as Frank Random was the chief party concerned in the love-making – for Donna Inez was merely passive – there was no more to be said.
Sometimes Hope came to dine at the Pyramids, and on these occasions Mrs. Jasher was present in her character of chaperon. As Miss Kendal was helping the widow to marry Professor Braddock, she in her turn did her best to speed Archie’s wooing. Certainly the young couple were engaged and there was no understanding to be brought about. Nevertheless, Mrs. Jasher was a useful article of furniture to be in the room when they were together, for Gartley, like all English villages, was filled with scandalmongers, who would have talked, had Hope and Lucy not employed Mrs. Jasher as gooseberry. Sometimes Donna Inez came with the widow, while her father was hunting for the mummy in Pierside, and then Sir Frank Random would be sure to put in an appearance to woo his Dulcinea in admiring silence. Mrs. Jasher declared that the two must have made love by telepathy, for they rarely exchanged a word. But this was all the better, as Archie and Lucy chattered a great deal, and two pair of magpies – Mrs. Jasher declared – would have been too much for her nerves. She made a very good chaperon, as she allowed the young people to act as they pleased, only sanctioning the meetings by her elderly presence.
One evening Mrs. Jasher was due to dinner, and Hope had already arrived. No one else was expected, as Don Pedro had taken his daughter to the theatre at Pierside and Sir Frank had gone to London in connection with his military duties. It was a bitterly cold night, and already a fall of snow had hinted that there was to be a real English Christmas of the genuine kind. Lucy had prepared an excellent dinner for three, and Archie had brought a set of new patience cards for Mrs. Jasher, who was fond of the game. While the widow played, the lovers hoped to make love undisturbed, and looked forward to a happy evening. But there was one drawback, for although the dinner hour was supposed to be eight o’clock, and it was now thirty minutes past, Mrs. Jasher had not arrived. Lucy was dismayed.
“What can be keeping her?” she asked Archie, to which that young gentleman replied that he did not know, and, what was more, he did not care. Miss Kendal very properly rebuked this sentiment. “You ought to care, Archie, for you know that if Mrs. Jasher does not come to dinner, you will have to go away.”
“Why should I?” he inquired sulkily.
“People will talk.”
“Let them. I don’t care.”
“Neither do I, you stupid boy. But my father will care, and if people talk he will be very angry.”
“My dear Lucy,” and Archie put his arm round her waist to say this, “I don’t see why you should be afraid of the Professor. He is only your step-father, and you aren’t so very fond of him as to mind what he says. Besides, we can marry soon, and then he can go hang.”
“But I don’t want him to go hang,” she replied, laughing. “After all, the Professor has always been kind to me, and as a step-father has behaved very well, when he could easily have made himself disagreeable. Another thing is that he can be very bad tempered when he likes, and if I let people talk about us – which they will do if they get a chance – he will behave so coldly to me, that I shall have a disagreeable time. As we can’t marry for ever so long, I don’t want to be uncomfortable.”
“We can marry whenever you like,” said Hope unexpectedly.
“What, with your income so unsettled?”
“It is not unsettled.”
“Yes, it is. You will help that horrid spendthrift uncle of yours, and until he and his family are solvent I don’t see how we can be sure of our money.”
“We are sure of it now, dearest. Uncle Simon has turned up trumps after all, and so have his investments.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean that yesterday I received a letter from him saying that he was now rich, and would pay back all I had lent him. I went up to London to-day, and had an interview. The result of that is that I am some thousands to the good, that Uncle Simon is well off for the rest of his life and will require no more assistance, and that my three hundred a year is quite clear for ever and ever and ever.”
“Then we can marry,” cried Miss Kendal with a gasp of delight.
“Whenever you choose – next week if you like.”
“In January then – just after Christmas. We’ll go on a trip to Italy and return to take a flat in London. Oh, Archie, I am sorry I thought so badly of your uncle. He has behaved very well. And what a mercy it is that he will require no more assistance! You are sure he will not.”
“If he does, he won’t get it,” said Hope candidly. “While I was a bachelor I could assist him; but when I am married I must look after myself and my wife.” He gave Lucy a hug. “It’s all right now, dear, and Uncle Simon has behaved excellently – far better than I expected. We shall go to Italy for the honeymoon and need not hurry back until we – well, say until we quarrel.”
“In that case we shall live in Italy for the rest of our lives,” said Lucy with twinkling eyes; “but we must come back in a year and take a studio in Chelsea.”
“Why not in Gartley? Remember, the Professor will be lonely.”
“No, he won’t. Mrs. Jasher, as I told you, intends to marry him.”
“He might not wish to marry her”
“That doesn’t matter,” rejoined Lucy, with the cleverness of a woman. “She can manage to bring the marriage about. Besides, I want to break with the old life here, and begin quite a new one with you. When I am your wife and Mrs. Jasher is my step-father’s, everything will be capitally arranged.”
“Well, I hope so,” said Archie heartily, “for I want you all to myself and have no desire to share you with anyone else. But I say,” he glanced at his watch; “it is getting towards nine o’clock, and I am desperately hungry. Can’t we go to dinner?”
“Not until Mrs. Jasher arrives,” said Lucy primly.
“Oh, bother – !”
Hope, being quite exasperated with hunger, would have launched out into a speech condemning the widow’s unpunctuality, when in the hall below the drawing-room was heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Without doubt this was Mrs. Jasher arriving at last, and Lucy ran out of the room and down the stairs to welcome her in her eagerness to get Archie seated at the dinner table. The young man lingered by the open door of the drawing-room, ready to welcome the widow, when he heard Lucy utter an exclamation of surprise and became aware that she was ascending the stairs along with Professor Braddock. At once he reflected there would be trouble, since he was in the house with Lucy, and lacked the necessary chaperon which Braddock’s primitive Anglo-Saxon instincts insisted upon.
“I did not know you were returning to-night,” Lucy was saying when she re-entered the drawing-room with her step-father.
“I arrived by the six o’clock train,” explained the Professor, unwinding a large red scarf from his neck, and struggling out of his overcoat with the assistance of his daughter. “Ha, Hope, good evening.”
“Where have you been since?” asked Lucy, throwing the Professor’s coat and wraps on to a chair.
“With Mrs. Jasher,” said Braddock, warming his plump hands at the fire. “So you must blame me that she is not here to preside at dinner as the chaperon of you young people.”
Lucy and her lover glanced at one another in surprise. This light and airy tone was a new one for the Professor to take. Instead of being angry, he seemed to be unusually gay, and looked at them in quite a jocular manner for a dry-as-dust scientist.
“We waited dinner for her, father,” ventured Lucy timidly.
“Then I am ready to eat it,” announced Braddock. “I am extremely hungry, my dear. I can’t live on love, you know.”
“Live on love?” Lucy stared, and Archie laughed quietly.
“Oh yes, you may smile and look astonished;” went on the Professor good-humoredly, “but science does not destroy the primeval instincts entirely. Lucy, my dear,” he took her hand and patted it, “while in London and in lodgings, it was borne in upon me forcibly how lonely I was and how lonely I would be when you married our young friend yonder. I had intended to come down to-morrow, but to-night, such was my feeling of loneliness that I considered favorably your idea that I should find a second helpmate in Mrs. Jasher. I have always had a profound admiration for that lady, and so – on the spur of the moment, as I may say – I decided to come down this evening and propose.”
“Oh,” Lucy clapped her hands, very well satisfied with the unexpected news, “and have you?”
“Mrs. Jasher,” said the Professor gravely, “did me the honor to promise to become my wife this evening.”
“She will become your wife this evening?” said Archie, smiling.
Braddock, with one of those odd twists of humor which were characteristic of him, became irascible.
“Confound it, sir, don’t I speak English,” he snapped, with his eyes glaring rebuke. “She promised this evening to become Mrs. Braddock. We shall marry – so we have arranged – in the springtime, which is the natural pairing season for human beings as well as for birds. And I am glad to say that Mrs. Jasher takes a deep interest in archaeology.”
“And, what is more, she is a splendid housekeeper,” said Lucy.
The temporary anger of the Professor vanished. He drew his step-daughter towards him and kissed her on the cheek.
“I believe that I have to thank you for putting the idea into my head,” said he, “and also – if Mrs. Jasher is to be believed – for aiding her to see the mutual advantage it would be to both of us to marry. Ha,” he released Lucy and rubbed his hands, “let us go to dinner.”
“I am very glad,” said Miss Kendal heartily.
“So am I, so am I,” replied Braddock, nodding. “As you very truly observed, my child, the house would have gone to rack and ruin without a woman to look after my interests. Well,” he took the arms of the two young people, “I really think that we must have a bottle of champagne on the strength of it.”
Shortly the trio were seated at the table, and Braddock explained that Mrs. Jasher, being overcome by his proposal, had not been able to face the ordeal of congratulations.
“But she will come to-morrow,” said he, as Cockatoo filled three glasses.
“Indeed, I shall congratulate her to-night,” said Lucy obstinately. “As soon as dinner is over, I shall go with Archie to her house, and tell her how pleased I am.”
“It is very cold for you to be out, Lucy dear,” urged Archie anxiously.
“Oh, I can wrap up warmly,” she answered.
Strange to say, the Professor made no objection to the excursion, although Hope quite expected such a stickler for etiquette to refuse permission to his step-daughter. But Braddock seemed rather pleased than otherwise. His proposal of marriage seemed to have put him into excellent humor, and he raised his glass with a chuckle.
“I drink to your happiness, my dear Lucy, and to that of Mrs. Jasher’s.”
“And I drink to Archie’s and to yours, father,” she replied. “I am glad that you will not be lonely when we are married. Archie and I wish to become one in January.”
“Yes,” said Hope, finishing his champagne, “my income is now all right, as my uncle has paid up.”
“Very good, very good. I make no objection,” said Braddock placidly. “I will give you a handsome wedding present, Lucy, for you may have heard that my future wife has money left to her by her brother, who was lately a merchant in Pekin. She is heart and hand with me in our proposed expedition to Egypt.”
“Will you go there for the honeymoon, sir?” asked Hope.
“Not exactly for the honeymoon, since we are to be married in spring, and my expedition to the tomb of Queen Tahoser cannot start until the late autumn. But Mrs. Braddock will come with me. That is only just, since it will be her money which will furnish the sinews of war.”
“Well, everything is arranged very well,” said Lucy. “I marry Archie; you, father, make Mrs. Jasher your wife; and I suspect Sir Frank will marry Donna Inez.”
“Ha!” said Braddock with a start, “the daughter of De Gayangos, who has come here for the missing mummy. Mrs. Jasher told me somewhat of that, my dear. But I shall see Don Pedro myself to-morrow. Meanwhile, let us eat and drink. I must go down to the museum, and you – ”
“We shall go to congratulate Mrs. Jasher,” said Lucy.
So it was arranged, and shortly Professor Braddock retired into his sanctum along with the devoted Cockatoo, who displayed lively joy on beholding his master once more. Lucy, after being carefully wrapped up by Archie, set out with that young man to congratulate the bride-elect. It was just half-past nine when they started out.
The night was frosty and the stars twinkled like jewels in a cloudless sky of dark blue. The moon shone with hard brilliance on the ground, which was powdered with a light fall of snow. As the young people walked briskly through the village, their footsteps rang on the frosty earth and they scrunched the snow in their quick tread. The Warrior Inn was still open, as it was not late, and lights shone from the windows of the various cottages. When the two, following the road through the marshes, emerged from the village, they saw the great mass of the Fort bulking blackly against the clear sky, the glittering stream of the Thames, and the marshes outlined in delicate white. The fairy world of snow and moonlight appealed to Archie’s artistic sense, and Lucy approving of the same, they did not hurry to arrive at their destination.
But shortly they saw the squarely fenced acre of ground near the embankment, wherein Mrs. Jasher’s humble abode was placed. Light shone through the pink curtains of the drawing-room, showing that the widow had not yet retired. In a few minutes the lovers were at the gate and promptly entered. It was then that one of those odd things happened which would argue that some people are possessed of a sixth sense.
Archie closed the gate after him, and, glancing right and left, walked up the snowy path with Lucy. To the right was a leafless arbor, also powdered with snow, and against the white bulked a dark form something like a coffin. Hope out of curiosity went up to it.
“What the deuce is this?” he asked himself; then raised his voice in loud surprise. “Lucy! Lucy! come here!”
“What is it?” she asked, running up.
“Look” – he pointed to the oddly shaped case – “the green mummy!”
CHAPTER XIII. MORE MYSTERY
Neither Lucy nor Archie Hope had ever seen the mummy, but they knew the appearance which it would present, as Professor Braddock, with the enthusiasm of an archaeologist, had often described the same to them. It appeared, according to Braddock, that on purchasing the precious corpse in Malta, his dead assistant had written home a full description of the treasure trove. Consequently, being advised beforehand, Hope had no difficulty in recognizing the oddly shaped case, which was made somewhat in the Egyptian form. On the impulse of the moment he had proclaimed this to be the long-lost mummy, and when a closer examination by the light of a lucifer match revealed the green hue of the coffin wood, he knew that he was right.
But what was the mummy in its ancient case doing in Mrs. Jasher’s arbor? That was the mute question which the two young people asked themselves and each other, as they stood in the chilly moonlight, staring at the grotesque thing. The mummy had disappeared from the Sailor’s Rest at Pierside some weeks ago, and now unexpectedly appeared in a lonely garden, surrounded by marshes. How it had been brought there, or why it should have been brought there, or who had brought it to such an unlikely place, were questions hard to answer. However, the most obvious thing to do was to question Mrs. Jasher, since the uncanny object was lying within a stone-throw of her home. Lucy, after a rapid word or two, went to ring the bell, and summon the lady, while Archie stood by the arbor, wondering how the mummy came to be there. In the same way George III had wondered how the apples got into the dumplings.
Far and wide spread the marshes, flatly towards the shore of the river on one side, but on the other sloping up to Gartley village, which twinkled with many lights on the rising ground. Some distance away the Fort rose black and menacing in the moonlight, and the mighty stream of the Thames glittered like polished steel as it flowed seaward. As there were only a few leafless trees dotted about the marshy ground, and as that same ground, lightly sprinkled with powdery snow, revealed every moving object for quite a mile or so, Hope could not conceive how the mummy case, which seemed heavy, could have been brought into the silent garden without its bearers being seen. It was not late, and soldiers were still returning through Gartley to the Fort. Then, again, some noise must have been caused by so bulky an object being thrust through the narrow wicket, and Mrs. Jasher, inhabiting a wooden house, which was a very sea-shell for sound, might have heard footsteps and voices. If those who had brought the mummy here – and there was more than one from the size of the case – could be discovered, then the mystery of Sidney Bolton’s death would be solved very speedily. It was at this moment of his reflections that Lucy returned to the arbor, leading Mrs. Jasher, who was attired in a tea-gown and who looked bewildered.
“What are you talking about, my dear?” she said, as Lucy led her towards the arbor. “I declare I was ever so much astonished, when Jane told me that you wished to speak to me. I was just writing a letter to the lawyer who has my poor brother’s property in hand, announcing my engagement to the Professor. Mr. Hope? You here also. Well, I’m sure.”
Lucy grew impatient at all this babble.
“Did you not hear what I said, Mrs. Jasher?” she cried irritably. “Can’t you use your eyes? Look! The green mummy is in your arbor.”
“The – green – mummy – in – my – arbor,” repeated Mrs. Jasher, like a child learning words of one syllable, and staring at the black object before which the three were standing.
“As you see,” said Archie abruptly. “How did it come here?”
He spoke harshly. Of course, it was absurd to accuse Mrs. Jasher of knowing anything about the matter, since she had been writing letters. Still, the fact remained that a mummy, which had been thieved from a murdered man, was in her arbor, and naturally she was called upon to explain.
Some suspicion in his tone struck the little woman, and she turned on him with indignation.
“How did it come here?” she repeated. “Now, how can I tell, you silly boy. I have been writing to my lawyer about my engagement to Mr. Braddock. I daresay he has told you.”
“Yes,” chimed in Miss Kendal, “and we came here to congratulate you, only to find the mummy.”
“Is that the horrid thing?” Mrs. Jasher stared with all her eyes, and timidly touched the hard green-stained wood.
“It’s the case – the mummy is inside.”
“But I thought that the Professor opened the case to find the body of poor Sidney Bolton,” argued Mrs. Jasher.
“That was a packing case in which this” – Archie struck the old-world coffin – “was stored. But this is the corpse of Inca Caxas, about which Don Pedro told us the other night. How does it come to be hidden in your garden?”
“Hidden.” Mrs. Jasher repeated the word with a laugh. “There is not much hiding about it. Why, every one can see it from the path.”
“And from the door of your house,” remarked Hope significantly. “Did you not see it when you took leave of Braddock?”
“No,” snapped the widow. “If I had I should certainly have come to look. Also Professor Braddock, who is so anxious to recover it, would not have allowed it to remain here.”
“Then the case was not here when the Professor left you to-night?”
“No! He left me at eight o’clock to go home to dinner.”
“When did he arrive here?” questioned Hope quickly.
“At seven. I am sure of the time, for I was just sitting down to my supper. He was here an hour. But he said nothing, when he entered, of any mummy being in the arbor; nor when he left me at the door and I came to say good-bye to him – did either of us see this object. To be sure,” added Mrs. Jasher meditatively, “we did not look particularly in the direction of this arbor.”
“I scarcely see how any one entering or leaving the garden could fail to see it, especially as the snow reflects the moonlight so brightly.”
Mrs. Jasher shivered, and taking the skirt of her tea-gown, flung it over her carefully attired head,
“It is very cold,” she remarked irritably. “Don’t you think we had better return to the house, and talk there?”
“What!” said Archie grimly, “and leave the mummy to be carried away as mysteriously as it has been brought. No, Mrs. Jasher. That mummy represents one thousand pounds of my money.”
“I understood that the Professor bought it himself.”
“So he did, but I supplied the purchase money. Therefore I do not intend that this should be lost sight of again. Lucy, my dear, you run home again and tell your father what we have found. He had better bring men, to take it to his museum. When it is there, Mrs. Jasher can then explain how it came to be in her garden.”
Without a word Lucy set off, walking quickly, anxious to fulfill her mission and gladden the heart of her step-father with the amazing news.
Archie and Mrs. Jasher were left alone, and the former lighted a cigarette, while he tapped the mummy case, and examined it as closely as the pale gleam of the moonlight permitted. Mrs. Jasher made no move to enter the house, much as she had complained of the cold. But perhaps she found the flimsy skirt of the tea-gown sufficient protection.
“It seems to me, Mr. Hope,” said she very tartly, “that you suspect my having a hand in this,” and she tapped the mummy coffin also.
“Pardon me,” observed Hope very politely, “but I suspect nothing, because I have no grounds upon which to base my suspicions. But certainly it is odd that this missing mummy should be found in your garden. You will admit that much.”
“I admit nothing of the sort,” she rejoined coolly. “Only myself and Jane live in the cottage, and you don’t expect that two delicate women could move this huge thing.” She tapped the case again. “Moreover, had I found the mummy I should have taken it to the Pyramids at once, so as to give Professor Braddock some pleasure.”
“It will certainly be an acceptable wedding present,” said Archie sarcastically.
“Pardon me,” said Mrs. Jasher in her turn, “but I have nothing to do with it as a present or otherwise. How the thing came into my arbor I really cannot say. As I told you, Professor Braddock made no remark about it when he came; and when he left, although I was at the door, I did not notice anything in this arbor. Indeed I cannot say if I ever looked in this direction.”
Archie mused and glanced at his watch.
“The Professor told Lucy that he came by the six train: you say that he was here at seven.”
“Yes, and he left at eight. What is the time now?”
“Ten o’clock, or a few minutes after. Therefore, since neither you nor Braddock saw the mummy, I take it that the case was brought here by some unknown people between eight o’clock and a quarter to ten, about which time I arrived here with Lucy.”
Mrs. Jasher nodded.
“You put the matter very clearly,” she observed dryly. “You have mistaken your vocation, Mr. Hope, and should have been a criminal lawyer. I should turn detective were I you.”
“Why?” asked Archie with a start.
“You might ascertain my movements on the night when the crime was committed,” snapped the little widow. “A woman muffled in a shawl, in much the same way as my head is now muffled in my skirt, talked to Bolton through the bedroom window of the Sailor’s Rest, you know.”
Hope expostulated.
“My dear lady, how you run on! I assure you that I would as soon suspect Lucy as you.”
“Thank you,” said the widow very dryly and very tartly.
“I merely wish to point out,” went on Archie in a conciliatory tone, “that, as the mummy in its case – as appears probable – was brought into your garden between the hours of eight and ten, less fifteen minutes, that you may have heard the voices or footsteps of those who carried it here.”
“I heard nothing,” said Mrs. Jasher, turning towards the path. “I had my supper, and played a game or two of patience, and then wrote letters, as I told you before. And I am not going to stand in the cold, answering silly questions, Mr. Hope. If you wish to talk you must come inside.”
Hope shook his head and lighted a fresh cigarette.
“I stand guard over this mummy until its rightful owner comes,” said he determinedly.
“Ho!” rejoined Mrs. Jasher scornfully: she was now at the door. “I understood that you bought the mummy and therefore were its owner. Well, I only hope you’ll find those emeralds Don Pedro talked about,” and with a light laugh she entered the cottage.
Archie looked after her in a puzzled way. There was no reason to suspect Mrs. Jasher, so far as he saw, even though a woman had been seen talking to Bolton on the night of the crime. And yet, why should the widow refer to the emeralds, which were of such immense value, according to Don Pedro? Hope glanced at the case and shook the primitive coffin, anxious for the moment to open it and ascertain if the jewels were still clutched grimly in the mummy’s dead hands. But the coffin was fastened tightly down with wooden pegs, and could only be opened with extreme care and difficulty. Also, as Hope reflected, even did he manage to open this receptacle of the dead, he still could not ascertain if the emeralds were safe, since they would be hidden under innumerable swathings of green-dyed llama wool. He therefore let the matter rest there, and, staring at the river, wondered how the mummy had been brought to the garden in the marshes.
Hope recollected that experts had decided the mode in which the mummy had been removed from the Pierside public-house. It had been passed through the window, according to Inspector Date and others, and, when taken across the narrow path which bordered the river, had been placed in a waiting boat. After that it had vanished until it had re-appeared in this arbor. But if taken by water once, it could have been taken by water again. There was a rude jetty behind the embankment, which Hope could easily see from where he stood. In all probability the mummy had been landed there and carried to the garden, while Mrs. Jasher was busy with her supper and her game of cards and her letters. Also, the path from the shore to the house was very lonely, and if any care had been exercised, which was probable, no one from the Fort road or from the village street could have seen the stealthy conspirators bringing their weird burden. So far Hope felt that he could argue excellently. But who had brought the mummy to the garden and why had it been brought there? These questions he could not answer so easily, and indeed not at all.