But the Professor was not going to let Captain Hervey escape without
giving him full information. Before the Yankee skipper could reach
the front door, Braddock was at his heels, gasping and blowing like a
grampus.
“Come back, come back. Tell me all.”
“I reckon not,” rejoined the mariner, removing Braddock's grip. “You
ain't the one to give the money. I'll go to the Don, or to Inspector
Date of Pierside.”
“But Sir Frank must be innocent,” insisted Braddock.
“He's got to prove it,” was the dry response. “Let me go.”
“No. You must tell me on what grounds--”
“Oh, the devil take you!” said Hervey hastily, and sat down on one of
the hall chairs. “It's this way, since you won't let me skip until
I tell you. This almighty aristocrat came to Pierside on the same
afternoon as I cast anchor. While Bolton was on board, he looked in to
have a yarn of sorts.”
“What about?”
“Now, how in creation should I know?” snapped the skipper. “I wasn't on
hand, as I'd enough to do with unloading cargo. But his lordship went
with Bolton to the state-room, and they talked for half an hour. When
they came out, I saw that his lordship had his hair riz, and heard him
saying things to Bolton.”
“What sort of things?”
“Well, for one, he said, `You'll repent of this,' and then again, `Your
life isn't safe while you keep it.'”
“Meaning the mummy?”
“I reckon that's so, unless I am mistaken,” said Hervey serenely.
“Why didn't you go to the police with this information?”
“Me? Not much. Why, I saw no way of making dollars. And then, again,
I did not think of putting things together, until I found that his
lorship--”
“Meaning Sir Frank,” interpolated the Professor, frowning.
“I'm talking Queen's, or King's, or Republican lingo, I guess, and I
do mean his lorship,” said the skipper dryly--“until I found that his
lorship had been in the public-house where the crime was committed.”
“The Sailor's Rest? When did he go there?”
“In the evening. After his talk with Bolton, and after a row--as they
both seemed to have their hair off--he skipped over the side and went
back to his yacht, which wasn't far away. Bolton took his blamed mummy
ashore and got fixed at the Sailor's Rest. I gathered afterwards, from
the second mate of The Diver (which ain't my ship now), that his lorship
came into the hotel and had a drink. Afterwards my second mate saw him
talking to Bolton through the window.”
“In the same place as the woman talked?” questioned the Professor.
“That's so, only it was later in the evening that the woman came along
to give chin-music through the window. I am bound to say,” added the
captain generously, “that no one I can place my hand on saw his lorship
loafing about the hotel after dark. But what of that? He may have laid
his plans, and arranged for the corpse to be found later, in that blamed
packing case.”
“Is this all your evidence?”
“It's enough, I guess.”
“Not to procure a warrant.”
“Why, a man in the States would be electrocuted on half the evidence.”
“I daresay,” retorted the little man with contempt, “but we are in
a land where justice of the purest prevails. All your evidence is
circumstantial. It proves nothing.”
The captain was considerably nettled.
“I calculate that it proves Sir Frank wanted the mummy, else why did he
come on board my ship to see your infernal assistant. The words he
used showed that he was warning Bolton how he'd do for him. And then he
talked through the window, and was in the public-house, which ain't a
place for an almighty aristocrat to shelter in. I guess he's the man
wanted by the police. Why,” added Hervey, warming to his tale, “he'd a
slap-up yacht laying near the blamed hotel, and could easily ship the
corpse, after slipping it through the window. When he got tired of it,
and looted the emeralds, he took it by boat, below the Fort, to Mrs.
Jasher's garden and left it there, so as to pull the wool over the eyes
of the police. It's as clear as mud to me. You search his lorship's
shanty, and you'll find the emeralds.”
“It is strange,” muttered Braddock unwillingly.
“Strange, but not true,” said a voice from the head of the stairs, and
young Hope came down leisurely, with a pale face, but a very determined
air. “Random is absolutely innocent.”
“How do you know?” demanded the skipper contemptuously.
“Because he is an English gentleman and my very good friend.”
“Huh! I guess that defense won't save him from being lynched.”
Meanwhile Braddock was looking irritably at Archie.
“You've been listening to a private conversation, sir. How dare you
listen?”
“If you hold private conversations at the top of your voices in the
hall, you must be expected to be listened to,” said Archie coolly. “I
plead guilty, and I am not sorry.”
“When did you come?”
“In time to hear all that Captain Hervey has explained. I was chatting
with Lucy, and had just left her, when I heard your loud voices.”
“Has Lucy heard anything?”
“No. She is busy in her room. But I'll tell her,” Hope turned to mount
the stairs; “she likes Random, and will no more believe him guilty than
I do at this present moment.”
“Stop!” cried Braddock, flying forward to pull Hope back, as he placed
his foot on the first stair. “Tell Lucy nothing just now. We must go to
the Fort, you--and I, to see Random. Hervey, you come also, and then you
can accuse Sir Frank to his face.”
“If he dares to do it!” said Archie, who looked and felt indignant.
“Oh, I'll accuse him right enough when the time comes,” said Hervey in
his coolest manner, “but the time isn't now. Savy! I am going to see the
Don first and make sure of this reward.”
“Faugh!” cried Hope with disgust, “Blood-money!”
“What of that? Ifs a man is a murderer he should be lynched.”
“My friend, Sir Frank Random, is no murderer.”
“He's got to prove, that, as I said before,” rejoined the Yankee in a
calm way, and strolled to the door. “So-long, gents both. I'll light out
for the Warrior Inn and play my cards. And I may tell you,” he added,
pausing at the door, which he opened, “that I haven't got that blamed
wind-jammer, so need money to hold out until another steamer comes
along. One hundred pounds English currency will just fill the bill. So
now you know the lay I'm on. So-long,” and he walked quietly out of
the house, leaving Archie and Braddock looking at one another with pale
faces. The assurance of Hervey surprised and horrified them. Still, they
could not believe that Sir Frank Random had been guilty of so brutal a
crime.
“For one thing,” said Hope after a pause, “Random did not know where the
emeralds were to be found, or even that they existed.”
“I understood that he did know,” said Braddock reluctantly. “In my
hearing, and in your own, you heard Don Pedro state that he had related
the story of the manuscript to Random.”
“You forget that I learned about the emeralds at the same time,” said
Hope quietly. “Yet this Yankee skipper does not accuse me. The knowledge
of the emeralds came to Random's ears and to mine long after the crime
was committed. To have a motive for killing Bolton and stealing the
emeralds, Random would have had to know when he arrived in England.”
“And why should he have not known?” asked the Professor, biting his lip
vexedly. “I don't want to accuse Random, or even to doubt him, as he is
a very good fellow, even though he refused to assist me with money when
I desired a reward to be offered. All the same, he met Don Pedro in
Genoa, and it is just possible that the man told him of the jewels
buried with the mummy.”
Archie shook his head.
“I doubt that,” said he thoughtfully. “Random was as astonished as the
rest of us, when Don Pedro told his Arabian Night story. However, the
point can be easily settled by sending for Random. I daresay he is at
the Fort.”
“I shall send Cockatoo for him at once,” said the Professor quickly, and
walked into the museum to instruct the Kanaka. Archie remained where he
was, and seated himself on a chair, with folded arms and knitted brows.
It was incredible that an English gentleman with a stainless name and
such a well-known soldier should commit so terrible a crime. And the
matter of Hervey's accusation was complicated by the fact--of which
Hervey was ignorant--that Don Pedro was willing that Random should
become his son-in-law. Hope wondered what the fiery, proud Peruvian
would say when he heard his friend denounced. His reflections on this
point were cut short by the return of the Professor, who appeared at
the door of the museum dismissing Cockatoo. When the Kanaka took his
departure, Braddock beckoned to the young man.
“There is no reason why we should talk in the hall, and let the whole
house know of this new difficulty,” he said in a testy manner. “Come in
here.”
Hope entered and looked with ill-concealed repugnance at the uncanny
shape of the green mummy, which was lying on a long table. He
examined the portions where the swathings had been cut with some sharp
instrument, to reveal the dry, bony hands, which formerly had held the
costly jewels. The face was invisible and covered with a mask of dull
beaten gold. Formerly the eyes had been jeweled, but these last were now
absent. He pointed out the mask to the Professor, who was hovering over
the weird dead with a large magnifying-glass.
“It is strange,” said Hope earnestly, “that the mask of gold was not
stolen also, since it is so valuable.”
“Unless melted down, the mask could be traced,” said Braddock after a
pause. “The jewels, according to Don Pedro, are of immense value, and so
could have been got rid of easily. Random was satisfied with those.”
“Don't talk of him in that way, as though his guilt was certain,” said
Hope, wincing.
“Well, you must admit that the evidence against him is strong.”
“But purely circumstantial.”
“Circumstantial evidence has hanged many an innocent man before now.
Humph!” said Braddock uneasily, “I hope it won't hang our friend.
However, we shall hear what he has to say. I have sent Cockatoo to the
Fort to bring him here at once. If Random is absent, Cockatoo is to
leave a note in his room, on the writing-table.”
“Would it not have been better to have told Cockatoo to give the note to
Random's servant?”
“I think not,” responded Braddock dryly. “Random's servant is certainly
one of the most stupid men in the entire army. He would probably forget
to give him the note, and as it is important that we should see Random
at once, it is better that he should find it placed personally on his
writing-table by Cockatoo, upon whom I can depend.”
Archie abandoned the argument, as it really mattered very little. He
took up another line of conversation.
“I expect if the criminal tries to dispose of the emeralds he will
be caught,” said he: “such large jewels are too noticeable to escape
comment.”
“Humph! It depends upon the cleverness of the thief,” said the
Professor, who was more taken up with the mummy than with the
conversation, “He might have the jewels cut into smaller stones, or he
might go to India and dispose of them to some Rajah, who would certainly
say nothing. I don't know how criminals act myself, as I have never
studied their methods. But I hope that the clue you mention will be hit
upon, if only for Random's sake.”
“I don't believe for one moment that Random is in danger,” said Archie,
“and, if he is, I shall turn detective myself.”
“I wish you joy,” replied Braddock, bending over the mummy. “Look, Hope,
at the wonderful color of this wool. There are some arts we have lost
completely--dyeing of this surprising beauty is one. Humph!” mused the
archaeologist, “I wonder why this particular mummy is dyed green, or
rather why it is wrapped in green bandages. Yellow was the royal color
of the ancient Peruvian monarchs. Vicuna wool dyed yellow. What do you
think, Hope? It is strange.”
Archie shrugged his shoulders.
“I can say nothing, because I know nothing,” he said sharply. “All I do
know is that I wish this precious mummy had never been brought here. It
has caused trouble ever since its arrival.”
“Well,” said Braddock, surveying the dead with some disfavor, “I must
say that I shall be glad to see the last of it myself. I know now all
that I wanted to know! Humph! I wonder if Don Pedro will allow me to
strip the mummy? Of course! It is mine not his. I shall unswathe it
entirely,” and Braddock was about to lay sacrilegious hands on the dead,
when Cockatoo entered breathlessly. He had been so quick that he must
have run to the Fort and back again.
“I knock at door,” said the Kanaka, delivering his message, “and I hear
no voice. I go in and find no one, so I put the letter on the table.
I come down and ask, and a soldier tells me, sir, his master is coming
back in half an hour.”
“You should have waited,” said Braddock, waving Cockatoo aside. “Come
along with me to the Fort, Hope.”
“But Random will come here as soon as he returns.”
“Very likely, but I can't wait. I am anxious to hear what he has to
say in his defense. Come, Cockatoo, my coat, my hat, my gloves. Stir
yourself, you scoundrel!”
Archie was not unwilling to go, since he was anxious also to hear what
Random would say to the absurd accusation brought against him by the
Yankee. In a few minutes the two men were walking smartly down the
road through the village, the Professor striving to keep up with Hope's
longer legs by trotting as hard as he could. Halfway down the village
they met a trap, and in it Captain Hervey being driven to the Jessum
railway station.
“Have you seen Don Pedro?” asked the Professor, stopping the vehicle.
“I reckon not,” answered Hervey stolidly. “He's gone into Pierside to
see the police. I'm off there also.”
“You had better come with us,” said Archie sternly;--“we are going to
see Sir Frank Random.”
“Give him my respects,” said the skipper cold-bloodedly, “and say that
he's worth one hundred pounds to me,” he waved his hand and the trap
moved away, but he looked back with a wry smile. “Say I'll square the
matter for double the money and command of his yacht.”
Braddock and Archie looked after the trap in disgust.
“What a scoundrel the man is!” said the Professor pettishly; “he'd sell
his father for what he could get.”
“It shows how much his word is to be depended upon. I expect this
accusation of Random is a put-up job.”
“I hope so, for Random's sake,” said Braddock, trotting briskly along.
In a short time they arrived at the Fort and were informed that Sir
Frank had not yet returned, but was expected back every moment. In the
meanwhile, as Braddock and Hope were both extremely well known, they
were shown into Random's quarters, which were on the first floor. When
the soldier-servant retired and the door was closed, Hope seated himself
near the window, while Braddock trotted round, looking into things.
“It's a dog kennel,” said the Professor. “I told Random that.”
“Perhaps we should have waited him in the mess,” suggested Archie.
“No! no! no! We couldn't talk there, with a lot of silly young fools
hanging about. I told Random that I would never enter the mess, so he
invited me to come always to his quarters. He was in love with Lucy
then,” chuckled the Professor, “and nothing was too good for me.”
“Not even the dog kennel,” said Hope dryly, for the Professor's chatter
was so rude as to be quite annoying.
“Pooh! pooh! pooh! Random doesn't mind a joke. You, Hope, have no sense
of humor. Your name is Scotch also. I believe you are a Caledonian.”
“I am nothing of the sort. I was born on this side of the border.”
“You might have been born at the North Pole for all I care,” said the
little man politely. “I don't like artists: they are usually silly. I
wish Lucy had married a man of science. Now don't talk rubbish. I know
what you are going to say.”
“Well,” said Archie, humoring him, “what am I going to say?”
This non-plussed the irritable savant.
“Hum! Hum! hum! I don't know and don't care. Pouf! How hot this room is!
What a number of books of travel Random has!” Braddock was now at the
bookcase, which consisted of shelves swung by cords against the wall.
“Random travels a great deal,” Archie reminded him.
“Quite so: quite so. Wastes his money on that silly yacht. But he hasn't
traveled in South America. I expect he's going there. Come here, Hope,
and see the many, many books about Peru and Chili and Brazil. There must
be a dozen, and all library books too.”
Archie sauntered towards the shelves.
“I expect Random is getting up the subject of South America, so as to
talk to Donna Inez.”
“Probably! probably!” snapped Braddock, pulling several of the books out
of place. “Why, there isn't a--Ah, dear me! What a catastrophe!”
He might well say so, for in his desire to examine the books, they all
tipped off the shelves and lay in a disorderly heap on the floor. Hope
began to pick them up and replace them, and so did the author of the
mischief. Among the books were several papers scribbled with notes, and
Braddock bundled these all in a heap.. Shortly, he caught sight of the
writing on one.
“Hullo! Latin,” said he, and read a line or two. “Oh!” he gasped, “Hope!
Hope! The manuscript of Don Pedro!”
“Impossible!”
Archie rose and stared at the discolored paper.
“Sorry to have kept you,” said Random, entering at this moment.
“You villain!” shouted Braddock furiously, “so you are guilty after
all?”