THE SECRET SOCIETY
Frank was amazed by the look on Blake's face. He was quite livid, and
an expression of horror was in his eyes. His brow was wet with
perspiration, his strong frame trembled, and he seemed to be overcome
with terror at the sight of the tomb image. Recollecting the behavior
of Vass and Maria, the novelist began to think that the Blue Mummy was
of the nature of a basilisk and rendered insane all who looked at it.
From being gay and composed, Blake was now terror-stricken and
nervous; that fatal image had transformed the bold, confident Irishman
into a trembling and abject coward. So astonished was Darrel that he
could not speak; and it was Roderick who broke the silence.
"You--you," he said in a hesitating manner--"you are not a member of
that infernal society?"
"What society?" asked Darrel, pretending ignorance to learn the more.
"The Society of the Blue Mummy."
"Set your mind at rest, Blake. I know nothing about the society."
The strain on Roderick's nerves relaxed, and he fell back on his chair
with an exhausted look. "Have you any brandy?" he murmured faintly;
"the sight of that devilish idol has given me a turn."
Still greatly amazed by Roderick's speech and manner, Darrel hastened
to the side-board and brought thence a small glass of cognac. On
drinking this the courage of Blake revived; the blood came back to his
cheeks, the strength to his limbs; and he sat up briskly, with an
apology for his momentary weakness.
"But you put the fear of God into me, my dear fellow," said he with a
shudder; "indeed you did. I thought I was done for."
"How do you mean--done for?"
"Well I fancied that you produced that Blue Mummy as a sign of my
death."
"Oh, is it usually a sign of death."
"Invariably. How it came into your possession, and you still alive, is
more than I can make out."
"The explanation is very simple," replied Darrel.
"This image was found beside the body of Grent."
Blake opened his eyes and whistled. "So that explains the mystery of
his death," he said under his breath. "The society killed him."
"But why--why?"
"Oh, I don't know the reason," replied Blake. "How can you expect me
to? But if he hadn't been killed by that society the Blue Mummy would
not have been left by his corpse as a symbol of its vengeance."
"But what is this society which kills people in this barbarous way?"
"I'll tell you all I know," said Roderick gravely, "and you can judge
for yourself. One moment."
He looked into Frank's bedroom, glanced out of the sitting-room
windows, and opened the outside door to assure himself that no one was
on the stairs. Then he returned to his seat, and found Frank's eyes
fixed on him with an expression of amused contempt.
"Why are you making all this theatrical display?" said he
sarcastically. "You are quite safe here, I assure you. I suspect this
society of yours is only a bogey to scare weak-minded people."
"It did more than scare Grent," retorted Blake significantly.
Darrel shrugged his shoulders. "I shall reserve my opinion until I
hear your story," he said good-humouredly. "But first, where does this
society you talk of exist?"
"In Peru--in Lima."
"Then how is it Grent has fallen a victim in London?"
"I don't know. Hear my story, and judge for yourself. But I must tell
you, Darrel, that this is no fairy tale I relate, but a stubborn fact.
People--yourself, for instance--might not believe it, because it is
not in the newspapers; but it is true for all that--terribly true, as
I have reason to know."
He glanced round the room again, and passed his handkerchief over his
dry lips. Then he began his tale, in a hurried, nervous fashion, as
though he half repented of his resolution to tell it.
"I was in Peru some two years ago," he said, "very hard up, and quite
alone, without friend or foe in the whole country. I managed to get a
billet as clerk in the office of a Scotch merchant; and although the
pay was not large, still it was sufficient to keep me alive. In my own
way, I managed to enjoy myself, and to gain a fair knowledge of the
Spanish tongue. As you may guess, I was by no means satisfied with my
position, and I wished to improve it. Hearing much about gold and
silver mines, and the unexpectedness with which they were discovered,
I used to lurk about the low quarters of Lima in the hope of gathering
information regarding these discoveries from stray Indians. I knew
that these peons frequently knew about mines of great riches, but from
detestation of the Spaniards would never reveal their whereabouts."
"And you fancied you might learn the locality of some rich mine?"
"Precisely. For that purpose I haunted the native portion of the town,
and, as you may guess, met with many adventures, more or less
perilous. One of these bore on the mystery of the Blue Mummy."
"Let us hear your mystery," said Frank; "it may explain mine."
"Possibly it may, Darrel. Well, one night when I was returning at a
late hour to my poor lodgings, I had to take my way through some
rather lonely streets. The night was dark, few people were about, and
the streets were badly lighted; so, recollecting these things, I
walked carefully and vigilantly, lest I should be attacked by
footpads. Suddenly, as I was nearing my lodgings, I heard a terrible
cry for help, and dashed round the corner of a street, to find a man
lying in the middle of it. Two other men ran away at the sound of my
footsteps; and I found that their victim was seriously wounded. Still,
he was sufficiently conscious to speak, and asked me in a faint
whisper to look for the Blue Mummy."
"Ah! the two men had left it as a token?"
"Yes; I found the image on the ground, and shewed it to the wounded
man. He gazed at it with terror, and swooned from dread and loss of
blood. I was bent on saving him, if only to learn about the Blue
Mummy, for I own that so strange an object piqued my curiosity. As the
man was small and light, and I was, as I am still, very strong, I
picked him up in my arms, and carried him to my lodgings, which were
no great distance away. Then I sent for a doctor, who, after an
examination, told me that the poor devil was dying. And die he did, on
that very night, four hours after I rescued him; but out of gratitude
for my interference he told me the secret of the Blue Mummy."
"Good," said Frank, much excited. "Let us hear it."
"The man's name," resumed Blake, wiping the perspiration from his
forehead, "was Pablo Mendoza, and he had been a person of some
position and wealth. As he was, therefore, a desirable personage,
likely to be useful, he had been induced to join the secret society of
the P.P.'s."
"Who are the P.P.'s?"
"The Society of the Patriotic Peruvians," explained Blake. "So far as
I can understand, it is formed mostly of Indians, who desire to
restore the empire of the Incas, and of Spanish adventurers
disaffected towards the Republic of Peru. The symbol of this society
is a tomb image, Now these images--"
"I know all about them," interrupted Frank. "They are substitutes for
living people, placed in ancient Peruvian tombs."
"Exactly. Well, this society was shewn one of these Inca sepulchres by
an old Indian, and found therein over a thousand blue images placed on
shelves round the embalmed body, one for each member of the dead man's
household. On this discovery the society took the Blue Mummy as its
symbol. Whenever a man hostile to the society was to die an image was
sent to him; when a man was killed an image was placed beside his
body."
"In that case I should think the supply would soon be exhausted."
"Oh no; for after the image had done its mission, which was to
intimate who had slain the victim, it was recovered in some way, and
restored to the society. For instance, when Mendoza died--by the way,
he had been killed for betraying some secrets of the society--well,
sir," pursued Blake, "when he died I kept the Blue Mummy, and it
nearly cost me my life."
"How so?"
"After the death of Mendoza the society became aware--I don't know
how--that I, who had rescued him, was possessed of the symbol of
death. Henceforth I was nearly always in danger of death, and several
times I ran the risk of stabbing, drowning, poisoning, and many other
ways of being got rid of. A friend of mine, who knew about the
society, advised me to get rid of the Blue Mummy, so one night I
placed it in a niche outside my door. It disappeared within an hour,
so after that I had no further trouble."
"But what is the object of this society?"
"To restore native Indian rule; and, like the Anarchists, it works by
secret assassination, in order to startle and intimidate those in
power."
"Has the society any money?"
"Oh, yes; I believe it is well supplied with funds. You see, the
Indians know of many buried and hidden treasures, concealed at the
time of the Spanish conquest of Peru; so I suppose they devote those
riches to the plots for reconstructing the Empire of the Incas."
"All this is very clear and plausible so far as Peru is concerned,"
said Frank after a pause, "but I don't see how this system of
political plotting and wholesale murder comes to exist in England."
"I can tell you, Darrel. About a year ago the Peruvian Government
resolved to put an end to the society, and many people were arrested.
They tried to get hold of the money owned by the society, but those
who had charge of it fled with it to England and took up their abode
in London."
"Is Captain Manuel one of these people?"
"I can't say for certain, but I am pretty sure he is."
"Has he the funds of the society in his possession?"
"A portion of them, maybe," replied Blake. "The society is too clever
to put all its eggs into one basket or in one country. In France,
Italy, Germany, and Spain there are representatives, who look after
and have in their possession a portion of the funds; so if one man
proves a traitor and embezzles the money, the others will, probably,
remain staunch. I don't know much about Captain Manuel, save that I
have met him once or twice at Wray House, but it is my opinion that he
is the treasurer of the society in London."
"I quite believe that, Blake; and the amount of his funds is ten
thousand pounds."
"Really!" cried Roderick, much astonished. "But how do you know?"
"Because Captain Manuel had that amount, and before Grent's death
placed it in his hands."
"But Grent is dead; so where is the money now?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?" echoed Blake, jumping up. "What do you mean?"
"What I say," rejoined Darrel drily, "The money has been stolen."
"Stolen! Good Lord! and by whom?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "I am as ignorant of that as I am of the
man's name who killed Grent. Listen. I have Torry's permission to tell
you the case."
"I am all attention," said Blake, resuming his seat.
At once Frank began his story, and narrated all details of the affair
from the time he met Mr. Grent disguised in Drury-lane down to Vass's
announcement of the robbery. For obvious reasons he did not speak of
Torry's discovery of the turquoise ring on Lydia Hargone's finger.
Blake listened with profound attention, and, when the narrative was
ended, sprang to his feet.
"After what you have told me I see it all," he cried. "Surely, putting
my story and yours together, you can guess who killed Grent and Julia
Brawn?"
"No, I cannot. Who do you think is the murderer?"
"Who? Why, Captain Manuel, to be sure. He murdered them both."