Mrs. Jasher laughed at the compliment to her sight, and colored through her rouge at the reproof to her vanity. Meanwhile, the smaller figure, which was that of a village lad leading a tall gentleman and a slender lady, pointed toward the group round Hope's easel. Shortly, the boy ran back up to the village road, and the gentleman came along the pathway with the lady. Random, who had been looking at them intently, suddenly started, having at length recognized them.

"Don Pedro and his daughter," he said in an astonished voice, and sprang forward to welcome the unexpected visitors.

"Now, my dear," whispered the widow in Lucy's ear, "we shall see the kind of woman Sir Frank prefers to you."

"Well, as Sir Frank has seen the kind of man I prefer to him," retorted Lucy, "that makes us quite equal."

"I am glad these new-comers talk English," said Hope, who had risen to his feet. "I know nothing of Spanish."

"They are not Spanish, but Peruvian," said Mrs. Jasher.

"The language is the same, more or less. Confound it! here is Random bringing them here. I wish he would take them to the Fort. There's no more work for the next hour, I suppose," and Hope, rather annoyed, began to pack his artistic traps.

On a nearer view, Don Pedro proved to be a tall, lean, dry man, not unlike Dore's conception of Don Quixote. He must have had Indian blood in his veins, judging from his very dark eyes, his stiff, lank hair, worn somewhat long, and his high cheek-bones. Also, although he was arrayed in puritanic black, his barbaric love of color betrayed itself in a red tie and in a scarlet handkerchief which was twisted loosely round a soft slouch hat, It was the hat and the brilliant red of tie and handkerchief which had caught Mrs. Jasher's eye at so great a distance, and which had led her to pronounce the man a stranger, for Mrs. Jasher well knew that no Englishman would affect such vivid tints. All the same, in spite of this eccentricity, Don Pedro looked a thorough Castilian gentleman, and bowed gravely when presented to the ladies by Random.

"Mrs. Jasher, Miss Kendal, permit me to present Don Pedro de Gayangos."

"I am charmed," said the Peruvian, bowing, hat in hand, "and in turn, allow me, ladies, to introduce my daughter, Donna Inez de Gayangos."

Archie was also presented to the Don and to the young lady, after which Lucy and Mrs. Jasher, while not appearing to look, made a thorough examination of the lady with whom Random was in love. No doubt Donna Inez was making an examination on her own account, and with the cleverness of the sex the three women, while chatting affably, learned all that there was to be learned from the outward appearance of each other in three minutes. Miss Kendal could not deny but what Donna Inez was very beautiful, and frankly admitted—inwardly, of course—her own inferiority. She was merely pretty, whereas the Peruvian lady was truly handsome and quite majestic in appearance.

Yet about Donna Inez there was the same indefinite barbaric look as characterized her father. Her face was lovely, dark and proud in expression, but there was an aloofness about it which puzzled the English girl. Donna Inez might have belonged to a race populating another planet of the solar system. She had large black, melting eyes, a straight Greek nose and perfect mouth, a well-rounded chin and magnificent hair, dark and glossy as the wing of the raven, which was arranged in the latest Parisian style of coiffure. Also, her gown—as the two women guessed in an instant—was from Paris. She was perfectly gloved and booted, and even if she betrayed somehow a barbaric taste for color in the dull ruddy hue of her dress, which was subdued with black braid, yet she looked quite a well-bred woman. All the same, her whole appearance gave an observant onlooker the idea that she would be more at home in a scanty robe and glittering with rudely wrought ornaments of gold. Perhaps Peru, where she came from, suggested the comparison, but Lucy's thoughts flew back to an account of the Virgins of the Sun, which the Professor had once described. It occurred to her, perhaps wrongly, that in Donna Inez she beheld one who in former days would have been the bride of some gorgeous Inca.

"I fear you will find England dull after the sunshine of Lima," said Lucy, having ended a swift examination.

Donna Inez shivered a trifle and glanced around at the gray misty air through which the pale sunshine struggled with difficulty.

"I certainly prefer the tropics to this," she said in musical English, "but my father has come down here on business, and until it is concluded we shall remain in this place."

"Then we must make things as bright as possible for you," said Mrs. Jasher cheerfully, and desperately anxious to learn more of the new-comers. "You must come to see me, Donna Inez—yonder is my cottage."

"Thank you, madame: you are very good."

Meanwhile Don Pedro was talking to the two young men.

"Yes, I did arrive here earlier than I expected," he was remarking, "but I have to return to Lima shortly, and I wish to get my business with Professor Braddock finished as speedily as possible."

"I am sorry," said Lucy politely, "but my father is absent."

"And when will he return, Miss Kendal?"

"I can scarcely say—in a week or a fortnight."

Don Pedro made a gesture of annoyance.

"It is a pity, as I am so very pressed for time. Still, I must remain until the Professor returns. I am so anxious to hear if the mummy has been found."

"It is not found yet," said Hope quickly, "and never will be."

Don Pedro looked at him quietly.

"It must be found," said he. "I have come all the way from Lima to obtain it. When you hear my story you will not be surprised at my desire to regain the mummy."

"Regain it?" echoed Hope and Random in one breath.

Don Pedro nodded.

"The mummy was stolen from my father," he said.



CHAPTER XI. THE MANUSCRIPT

It was certainly strange how constantly the subject of the missing mummy came uppermost. Since it had disappeared and since the man who had brought it to England was dead, it might have been thought that nothing more would be said about the matter. But Professor Braddock harped incessantly on his loss—which was perhaps natural—and Widow Anne also talked a great deal as to the possibility of the mummy, being found, as she hoped to learn by that means the name of the assassin who had strangled her poor boy. Now Don Pedro de Gayangos appeared with the strange information that the weird relic of Peruvian civilization had been stolen from his father. Apparently fate was not inclined to let the matter of the lost mummy drop, and was working round to a denouement, which would possibly include the solution of the mystery of Sidney Bolton's death. Yet, on the face of it, there appeared to be no chance of the truth becoming known.

Of course, when Don Pedro announced that the Mummy had formerly belonged to his father, every one was anxious to hear how it had been stolen. The Gayangos family were established in Lima, and the embalmed body of Inca Caxas had been purchased from a gentleman residing in Malta. How, then, had it crossed the water, and how had Don Pedro learned its whereabouts, only to arrive too late to secure his missing property? Mrs. Jasher was especially anxious to learn these things, and explained her reasons to Lucy.

"You see, my dear," she said to the girl on the day after Don Pedro's arrival in Gartley, "if we learn the past of that horrid mummy, we may gain a clue to the person who desired possession of the nasty thing, and so may hunt down this terrible criminal. Once he is found, the mummy may be secured again, and should I be able to return it to your father, out of gratitude he would certainly marry me."

"You seem to think that the assassin is a man," said Lucy dryly; "yet you forget that the person who talked to Sidney through the window of the Sailor's Rest was a woman."

"An old woman," emphasized Mrs. Jasher briskly: "quite so."

Lucy contradicted.

"Eliza Flight did not say if the woman was old or young, but merely stated that she wore a dark dress and a dark shawl over her head. Still, this mysterious woman was connected in some way with the murder, else she would not have been speaking to Sidney."

"I don't follow you, my dear. You talk as though poor Mr. Bolton expected to be murdered. For my part, I hold by the verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown. The truth is to be found, if anywhere, in the past of the mummy."

"We can discover nothing about that."

"You forget what Don Pedro said, my dear," remarked Mrs. Jasher hastily, "that the mummy had been stolen from his father. Let us hear what he has to say and we may find a clue. I am anxious that the Professor should regain the green mummy for reasons which you know of. And now, my hear, can you come to dinner to-night?"

"Well, I don't know." Miss Kendal hesitated. "Archie said that he would look in this evening."

"I shall ask Mr. Hope also, my love. Don Pedro is coming and his daughter likewise. Needless to say Sir Frank will follow the young lady. We shall be a party of six, and after dinner we must induce Don Pedro to relate the story of how the mummy was stolen."

"He may not be inclined."

"Oh, I think so," replied; Mrs. Jasher quickly. "He wants to get the mummy back again, and if we discuss the subject we may see some chance of securing it."

"But Don Pedro will not wish it to be restored to my father."

Mrs. Jasher shrugged her plump shoulders.

"Your father and Don Pedro can arrange that themselves. All I desire is, that the mummy should be found. Undoubtedly it belongs by purchase to the Professor, but as it has been stolen, this Peruvian gentleman may claim it. Well?"

"I shall come and Archie also," assented Lucy, who was beginning to be interested in the matter. "The affair is somewhat romantic."

"Criminal, my dear, criminal," said Mrs. Jasher, rising to take her leave. "It is not a matter I care to mix myself up with. Still"—she laughed—"you know, why I am doing so."

"If I had to take all this trouble to gain a husband," observed Lucy somewhat acidly, "I should remain single all my life."

"If you were as lonely as I am," retorted the plump widow, "you would do your best to secure a man toy look after you. I should prefer a young and handsomer husband—such as Sir Frank Random, for instance but, as beggars cannot be choosers, I must content myself with old age, a famous scientist, and the chance of a possible title. Now mind, dear, to-night at seven—not a minute later," and she bustled away to prepare for the reception of her guests.

It seemed to Lucy that Mrs. Jasher was taking a great deal of trouble to become Mrs. Braddock, especially as the Professor's brother might live for many a long day yet, in which case the widow would not gain the title she coveted for years. However, the girl rather sympathized with Mrs. Jasher, who was a companionable soul, and fond of society. Circumstances condemned her to a somewhat lonely life in an isolated cottage in a rather dull neighborhood, so it was little to be wondered at that she should strive to move heaven and earth—as she was doing—in the hope of escaping from her solitude. Besides, although Miss Kendal did not wish to make a close companion of the widow, yet she did not dislike her, and, moreover, thought that she would make Professor Braddock a very presentable wife. Thinking thus, Lucy was quite willing to forward Mrs. Jasher's plans by inducing Don Pedro to tell all he knew about this missing mummy.

Thus it came about that six people assembled in the tiny pink parlor of Mrs. Jasher at the hour of seven o'clock. It required dexterous management to seat the whole company in the dining room, which was only a trifle larger than the parlor. However, Mrs. Jasher contrived to place them round her hospitable board in, a fairly comfortable fashion, and, once seated, the dinner was so good that no one felt the drawbacks of scanty elbow room. The widow, as hostess, was placed at the head of the table; Don Pedro, as the eldest of the men, at the foot; and Sir Frank, with Donna Inez, faced Archie and Lucy Kendal. Jane, who was well instructed in waiting by her mistress, attended to her duties admirably, acting both as footman and butler. Lucy, indeed, had offered Mrs. Jasher the services of Cockatoo to hand round the wine, but the widow with a pretty shudder had declined.

"That dreadful creature with his yellow mop of hair gives me the shivers," she declared.

Considering the isolation of the district, and the narrow limits of Mrs. Jasher's income, the meal was truly, admirable, being well cooked and well served, while the table was arrayed like an altar for the reception of the various dishes. Whatever Mrs. Jasher might be as an adventuress, she certainly proved herself to be a capital housekeeper, and Lucy foresaw that, if she did become Mrs. Braddock, the Professor would fare sumptuously, for the rest of his scientific life. When the meal was ended the widow produced a box of superfine cigars and another of cigarettes, after which she left the gentlemen to sip their wine, and took her two young friends to chatter chiffons in the tiny parlor. And it said much for Mrs. Jasher's methodical ways that, considering the limited space, everything went—as the saying goes—like clockwork. Likewise, the widow had proved herself a wonderful hostess, as she kept the ball of conversation rolling briskly and induced a spirit of fraternity, uncommon in an ordinary dinner party.

During the meal Mrs. Jasher had kept off the subject of the mummy, which was the excuse for the entertainment; but when the gentlemen strolled into the parlor, feeling well fed and happy, she hinted at Don Pedro's quest. As the night was cold and the Peruvian gentleman came from the tropics, he was established in a well padded arm-chair close to the sea-coal fire, and with her own fair hands Mrs. Jasher gave him a cup of fragrant coffee, which was rendered still more agreeable to the palate by the introduction of a vanilla bean. With this and with a good cigar—for the ladies gave the gentlemen permission to smoke—Don Pedro felt very happy and easy, and complimented Mrs. Jasher warmly on her capability of making her fellow-creatures comfortable.

"It is altogether comfortable, madame," said Don Pedro, rising to make a courtly bow. In fact, so agreeable was the foreigner that Mrs. Jasher dreamed for one swift moment of throwing over the dry-as-dust scientist to become a Spanish lady of Lima.

"You flatter me, Don Pedro," she said, waving a wholly unnecessary fan out of compliment to her guest's Spanish extraction. "Indeed, I am very glad that you are pleased with my poor little house."

"Pardon, madame, but no house can be poor when it is a casket to contain such a jewel."

"There!" said Lucy somewhat satirically to the young men, while Mrs. Jasher blushed and bridled, "what Englishman could turn such a compliment? It reminds one of Georgian times."

"We are more sober now than my fathers were then," said Hope, smiling, "and I am sure if Random thought for a few minutes he could produce something pretty. Go on, Random."

"My brain is not equal to the strain after dinner," said Sir Frank.

As for Donna Inez, she did not speak, but sat smiling quietly in her corner of the room, looking remarkably handsome. As a young girl Lucy was pretty, and Mrs. Jasher was a comely widow, but neither one had the majestic looks of the Spanish lady. She smiled, a veritable queen amidst the gim-crack ornaments of Mrs. Jasher's parlor, and Sir Frank, who was fathoms deep in love, could not keep his eyes off her face.

For a few minutes the conversation was frivolous, quite the Shakespeare and musical glasses kind of speech. Then Mrs. Jasher, who had no idea that her good dinner should be wasted in charming nothings, introduced the subject of the mummy by a reference to Professor Braddock. It was characteristic of her cleverness that she did not address Don Pedro, but pointed her speech at Lucy Kendal.

"I do hope your father will return with that mummy," she observed, after a dexterous allusion to the late tragedy.

"I don't think he has gone to look for it," replied Miss Kendal indifferently.

"But surely he desired to get it back, after paying nearly one thousand pounds for it," said Mrs. Jasher, with well-feigned astonishment.

"Oh, of course; but he would scarcely look for it in London."

"Has Professor Braddock gone to search for the mummy?" asked Don Pedro.

"No," answered Lucy. "He is visiting the British Museum to make some researches in the Egyptian department."

"When do you expect him back, please?"

Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

"I can't say, Don Pedro. My father comes and goes as the whim takes him."

The Spanish gentleman looked thoughtfully into the fire.

"I shall be glad to see the Professor when he returns," he said in his excellent, slow-sounding English. "My concern about this mummy is deep."

"Dear me," remarked Mrs. Jasher, shielding her fair cheek with the unnecessary fan, and venturing on a joke, "is the mummy a relative?"

"Yes, madame," replied Don Pedro, gravely and unexpectedly.

At this every one, very naturally, looked astonished—that is, all save Donna Inez, who still preserved her fixed smile. Mrs. Jasher took a mental note of the same, and decided that the young lady was not very intelligent. Meanwhile Don Pedro continued his speech after a glance round the circle.

"I have the blood of the royal Inca race in my veins," he said with pride.

"Ha!" murmured the widow to herself, "then that accounts for your love of color, which is so un-English;" then she raised her voice. "Tell us all about it, Don Pedro," she entreated; "we are usually so dull here that a romantic story excites us dreadfully."

"I do not know that it is very romantic," said Don Pedro with a polite smile, "and if you will not find it dull—"

"Oh, no!" said Archie, who was as anxious as Mrs. Jasher to hear what was to be said about the mummy. "Come, sir, we are all attention."

Don Pedro bowed again, and again swept the circle with his deep-set eyes.

"The Inca Caxas," he remarked, "was one of the decadent rulers of ancient Peru. At the Conquest by the Spaniards, Inca Atahuallpa was murdered by Pizarro, as you probably know. Inca Toparca succeeded him as a puppet king. He died also, and it was suspected that he was slain by a native chief called Challcuchima. Then Manco succeeded, and is looked upon by historians as the last Inca of Peru. But he was not."

"This is news, indeed," said Random lazily. "And who was the last Inca?"

"The man who is now the green mummy."

"Inca Caxas," ventured Lucy timidly.

Don Pedro looked at her sharply. "How do you come to know the name?"

"You mentioned it just now, but, before that, I heard my father mention it," said Lucy, who was surprised at the sharpness of his tone.

"And where did the Professor learn the name?" asked Don Pedro anxiously.

Lucy shook her head.

"I cannot say. But go on with the story," she continued, with the naive curiosity of a child.

"Yes, do," pleaded Mrs. Jasher, who was listening with all her ears.

The Peruvian meditated for a few minutes, then slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat and brought out a discolored parchment, scrawled and scribbled with odd-looking letters in purple ink somewhat faded.

"Did you ever see this before?" he asked Lucy, "or any manuscript like it?"

"No," she answered, bending forward to examine the parchment carefully.

Don Pedro again swept an inquiring eye round the circle, but everyone denied having seen the manuscript.

"What is it?" asked Sir Frank curiously.

Don Pedro restored the manuscript to his pocket.

"It is an account of the embalming of Inca Caxas, written by his son, who was my ancestor."

"Then you are descended from this Inca?" said Mrs. Jasher eagerly.

"I am. Had I my rights I should rule Peru. As it is, I am a poor gentleman with very little money. That," added Don Pedro with emphasis, "is why I wish to recover the mummy of my great ancestor."

"Is it then so valuable?" asked Archie suddenly. He was thinking of some reason why the mummy should have been stolen.

"Well, in itself it is of no great value, save to an archaeologist," was Don Pedro's reply; "but I had better tell you the story of how it was stolen from my father."

"Go on, go on," cried Mrs. Jasher. "This is most interesting."

Don Pedro plunged into his story without further preamble.

"Inca Caxas held his state amidst the solitudes of the Andes, away from the cruel men who had conquered his country. He died and was buried. This manuscript,"—he touched his pocket—"was written by his son, and details the ceremonies, the place of sepulchre, and also gives a list of the jewels with which the mummy was buried."

"Jewels," murmured Hope under his breath. "I thought as much."

"The son of Inca Caxas married a Spanish lady and made peace with the Spaniards. He came to live at Cuzco, and brought with him, for some purpose which the manuscript does not disclose, the mummy of his father. But the manuscript was lost for years, and although my family—the De Gayangoses—became poor, no member of it knew that, concealed in the corpse of Inca Caxas, were two large emeralds of immense value. The mummy of our royal ancestor was treated as a sacred thing and venerated accordingly. Afterwards my family came to live at Lima, and I still dwell in the old house."

"But how was the mummy stolen from you?" asked Random curiously.

"I am coming to that," said Don Pedro, frowning at the interruption. "I was not in Lima at the time; but I had met the man who stole the precious mummy."

"Was he a Spaniard?"

"No," answered Don Pedro slowly, "he was an English sailor called Vasa."

"Vasa is a Swedish name," observed Hope critically.

"This man said that he was English, and certainly spoke like an Englishman, so far as I, a foreigner, can tell. At that time, when I was a young man, civil war raged in Peru. My father's house was sacked, and this Vasa, who had been received hospitably by my father when he was shipwrecked at Callao, stole the mummy, of Inca Caxas. My father died of grief and charged me to get the mummy back. When peace was restored to my unhappy country I tried to recover the venerated body of my ancestor. But all search proved vain, as Vasa had disappeared, and it was supposed that, for some reason, he had taken the embalmed body out of the country. It was when the mummy was lost that I unexpectedly came across the manuscript, which detailed the funeral ceremonies of Inca Caxas, and on learning about the two emeralds I was naturally more anxious than ever to discover the mummy and retrieve my fallen fortunes by means of the jewels. But, as I said, all search proved vain, and I afterward married, thinking to settle down on what fortune remained to me. I did live quietly in Lima for years until my wife died. Then with my daughter I came to Europe on a visit."

"To search for the mummy?" questioned Archie eagerly.

"No, sir. I had given up all hope of finding that. But chance placed a clue in my hands. At Genoa I came across a newspaper, which stated that a mummy in a green case—and a Peruvian mummy at that—was for sale at Malta. I immediately made inquiries, thinking that this was the long-lost body of Inca Caxas. But it so happened that I was too late, as already the mummy had been sold to Professor Braddock, and had been taken to England on board The Diver by Mr. Bolton. Chance, which had pointed out the whereabouts of the mummy, also brought me at Genoa into relations with Sir Frank Random"—Don Pedro bowed his head to the baronet—"and, as it appeared that he knew Professor Braddock, I thankfully accepted his offer to introduce me. Hence I am here, but only to hear that the mummy is again lost. That is all," and the Peruvian gentleman dramatically waved his arm.

"A strange story," said Archie, who was the first to speak, "and it certainly solves at least one part of the mystery."

"What is that?" demanded Mrs. Jasher quickly.

"It shows that the mummy was stolen on account of the emeralds."

"Pardon me, but that is impossible, sir," said Don Pedro, drawing up his lean figure. "No one but myself knew that the mummy held two emeralds in its dead hands, and I learned that only a few years ago from the manuscript which I had the honor of showing you."

"There is that objection assuredly," replied Hope with composure. "Yet I can hardly believe that any man would risk his neck to steal so remarkable a mummy, which he would have a difficulty in disposing of. But did this assassin know of the emeralds, he would venture much to gain them, since jewels can be disposed of with comparative ease, and cannot easily be traced."

"All the same," said Random, looking up, "I do not see how the assassin could have learned that the jewels were wrapped in the bandages."

"Humph!" said Hope, glancing at De Gayangos, "perhaps there is more than one copy of this manuscript you speak of."

"Not to my knowledge."

"The sailor Vasa might have copied it."

"No." Don Pedro shook his head. "It is written in Latin, since a Spanish priest taught the son of Inca Caxas, who wrote it, that language. I do not think that Vasa knew Latin. Also, if Vasa had copied the manuscript, he would have stripped the mummy to procure the jewels. Now, in the newspaper advertisement it stated that the bandages of the mummy were intact, as also was the verdant case. No," said Don Pedro decisively, "I am quite of opinion that Vasa, and indeed everyone else, was ignorant of this manuscript."

"It seems to me," suggested Mrs. Jasher, "that it would be best to find this sailor."

"That," remarked De Gayangos, "is impossible. It is twenty years since he disappeared with the mummy. Let us drop the subject until Professor Braddock returns to discuss it with me." And this was accordingly done.

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.

While thus meditating, he heard, far away in the frosty air, a puffing and blowing and panting like an impatient motor-car. Before he could guess what this was, Braddock appeared, simply racing along the marshy causeway, followed closely by Cockatoo, and at some distance away by Lucy. The little scientist rushed through the gate, which he flung open with a noise fit to wake the dead, and lunged forward, to fall with outstretched arms upon the green case. There he remained, still puffing and blowing, and looked as though he were hugging a huge green beetle. Cockatoo, who, being lean and hard, kept his breath more easily, stood respectfully by, waiting for his master to give orders, and Lucy came in quietly by the gate, smiling at her father's enthusiasm. At the same moment Mrs. Jasher, well wrapped up in a coat of sables, emerged from the cottage.

"I heard you coming, Professor," she called out, hurrying down the path.

"I should think the whole Fort heard the Professor coming," said Hope, glancing at the dark mass. "The soldiers must think it is an invasion."

But Braddock paid no heed to this jocularity, or even to Mrs. Jasher, to whom he had been so lately engaged. All his soul was in the mummy case, and as soon as he recovered his breath, he loudly proclaimed his joy at this miraculous recovery of the precious article.

"Mine! mine!" he roared, and his words ran violently through the frosty air.

"Be calm, sir," advised Hope—"be calm."

"Calm! calm!" bellowed Braddock, struggling to a standing position. "Oh, confound you, sir, how can I be calm when I find what I have lost? You have a mean, groveling soul, Hope, not the soaring spirit of a collector."

"There is no need to be rude to Archie, father," corrected Lucy sharply.

"Rude! Rude! I am never rude. But this mummy." Braddock peered closely at it and rapped the wood to assure himself it was no phantom. "Yes! it is my mummy, the mummy of Inca Caxas. Now I shall learn how the Peruvians embalmed their royal dead. Mine! mine! mine!" He crooned like a mother over a child, caressing the coffin; then suddenly drew himself upright and fixed Mrs. Jasher with an indignant eye. "So it was you, madam, who stole my mummy," he declared venomously, "and I thought of making you my wife. Oh, what an escape I have had. Shame, woman, shame!"

Mrs. Jasher stared, then her face grew redder than the rouge on her cheeks, and she stamped furiously in the neat Louis Quinze slippers in which she had in judiciously come out.

"How dare you say what you have said?" she cried, her voice shrill and hard with anger. "Mr. Hope has been saying the same thing. Are you both mad? I never set eyes on the horrid thing in my life. And only to-night you told me that you loved—"

"Yes, yes, I said many foolish things, I don't doubt, madam. But that is not the question. My mummy! my mummy!" he rapped the wood furiously—"how does my mummy come to be here?"

"I don't know," said Mrs. Jasher, still furious, "and I don't care."

"Don't care: don't care, when I look forward to your helping me in my lifework! As my wife—"

"I shall never be your wife," cried the widow, stamping again. "I wouldn't be your wife for a thousand or a million pounds. Marry your mummy, you horrid, red-faced, crabbed little—"

"Hush! hush!" whispered Lucy, taking the angry woman round the waist, "you must make allowances for my father. He is so excited over his good fortune that he—"

"I shall not make allowance," interrupted Mrs. Jasher angrily. "He practically accuses me of stealing the mummy. If I did that, I must have murdered poor Sidney Bolton."

"No, no," cried the Professor, wiping his red face. "I never hinted at such a thing. But the mummy is in your garden."

"What of that? I don't know how it came there. Mr. Hope, surely you do not support Professor Braddock in his preposterous accusation?"

"I bring no accusation," stuttered the Professor.

"Neither do I, Mrs. Jasher. You are excited now. Go in and sleep, and to-morrow you will talk reasonably." This brilliant speech was from Hope, and wrought Mrs. Jasher into a royal rage.

"Well," she gasped, "he asks me to be calm, as it I wasn't the very calmest person here. I declare: oh, I shall be ill! Lucy," she seized the girl's hand and dragged her towards the cottage, "come in and give me red lavender. I shall be in bed for days and days and days. Oh, what brutes men can be! But listen, you two horrors," she indicated Braddock and Hope, as she pushed open the door, "if you dare to say a word against me, I'll have an action for libel against you. Oh, dear me, how very ill I feel! Lucy, darling, help me, oh, help me, and—and—oh—oh—oh!" She flopped down on the threshold of her home with a cry.

"Archie! Archie! She's fainted."

Hope rushed forward, and raised the stout little woman in his arms. Jane, attracted by the clamor, appeared on the scene, and between the three of them they managed to get Mrs. Jasher placed on the sofa of the pink drawing-room. She certainly was in a dead faint, so Hope left her to the administrations of Lucy and the servant, and walked out again into the garden, closing the cottage door after him.

He found the heartless Professor quite oblivious to Mrs. Jasher's sufferings, so taken up was he with the newly found mummy. Cockatoo had been sent for a hand-cart, and while he was absent Braddock expatiated on the perfections of this relic of Peruvian civilization.

"Will you sell it to Don Pedro?" asked Hope.

"After I have done with it, not before," snapped Braddock, hovering round his treasure. "I shall want a percentage on my bargain also."

Archie thought privately that if Braddock unswathed the mummy, he would find the emeralds and would probably stick to them, so that his expedition to Egypt might be financed. It that case Don Pedro would no longer wish to buy the corpse of his ancestor. But while he debated as to the advisability of telling the Professor of the existence of the emeralds, Cockatoo returned with the hand-cart.

"You have lost Mrs. Jasher," said Hope, while he, assisted the Professor to hoist the mummy on to the cart.

"Never mind! never mind!" Braddock patted the coffin. "I have found something much more to my mind: something ever so much better. Ha! ha!"



CHAPTER XIV. THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

In spite of newspapers and letters and tape-machines and telegrams and such like aids to the speedy diffusion of news, the same travels quicker in villages than in cities. Word of mouth can spread gossip with marvelous rapidity in sparsely inhabited communities, since it is obvious that in such places every person knows the other—as the saying goes—inside out. In every English village walls have ears and windows have eyes, so that every cottage is a hot-bed of scandal, and what is known to one is, within the hour, known to the others. Even the Sphinx could not have preserved her secret long in such a locality.

Gartley could keep up its reputation in this respect along with the best, therefore it was little to be wondered at, that early next morning every one knew that Professor Braddock had found his long-lost mummy in Mrs. Jasher's garden, and had removed the same to the Pyramids without unnecessary delay. It was not particularly late when the hand-cart, with its uncanny burden, had passed along the sole street of the place, and several men had emerged from the Warrior Inn ostensibly to offer help, but really to know what the eccentric master of the great house was doing. Braddock brusquely rejected these offers; but the oddly shaped mummy case, stained green, having been seen, it needed little wit for those who had caught a sight of it to put two and two together, especially as the weird object had been described at the inquest and had been talked over ever since in every cottage. And as the cart had been seen coming out of the widow's garden, it naturally occurred to the villagers that Mrs. Jasher had been concealing the mummy. Shortly the rumor spread that she had also murdered Bolton, for unless she had done so, she certainly—according to village logic—could not have been possessed of the spoil. Finally, as Mrs. Jasher's doors and windows were small and the mummy was rather bulky, it was natural to presume that she had hidden it in the garden. Report said she had buried it and had dug it up just in time to be pounced upon by its rightful owner. From which it can be seen that gossip is not invariably accurate.

However this may be, the news of Professor Braddock's good fortune shortly came to Don Pedro's ears through the medium of the landlady. As she revealed what she had heard in the morning, the Peruvian gentleman was spared a sleepless night. But as soon as he learned the truth—which was surprising enough in its unexpectedness—he hastily finished his breakfast and hurried to the Pyramids. As yet he had not intended to see Braddock so promptly, or at least not until he had made further inquiries at Pierside, but the news that Braddock possessed the royal ancestor of the De Gayangoses brought him immediately into the museum. He greeted the Professor in his usual grave and dignified manner, and no one would have guessed from his inherent calmness that the unexpected news of Braddock's arrival, and the still more unexpected information about the green mummy, had surprised him beyond measure. Being somewhat superstitious, it also occurred to Don Pedro that the coincidence meant good fortune to him in the recovery of his long-lost ancestor.

Braddock, already knowing a great deal about Don Pedro from Lucy and Archie Hope, was only too pleased to see the Peruvian, hoping to find in him a kindred spirit. As yet the Professor was not aware of the contents of the ancient Latin manuscript, which revealed the fact of the hidden emeralds, since Hope had decided to leave it to the Peruvian to impart the information. Archie knew very well that Don Pedro—as he had plainly stated—wished to purchase the mummy, and it was only right that Braddock should know what he was selling. But Hope forgot one important fact perhaps from the careless way in which Don Pedro had told his story—namely, that the Professor in a second degree was a receiver of stolen goods. Therefore it was more than probable that the Peruvian would claim the mummy as his own property. Still, in that event he would have to prove his claim, and that would not be easy.

The plump little professor had not yet unsealed the case, and when Don Pedro entered, he was standing before it rubbing his fat hands, with a gloating expression in his face. However, as Cockatoo had brought in the Peruvian's card, Braddock expected his visitor and wheeled to face him.

"How are you, sir?" said he, extending his hand. "I am glad to see you, as I hear that you know all about this mummy of Inca Caxas."

"Well, I do," answered De Gayangos, sitting down in the chair which his host pushed forward. "But may I ask who told you that this mummy was that of the last Inca?"

Braddock pinched his plump chin and replied readily, enough.

"Certainly, Don Pedro. I wished to learn the difference in embalming between the Egyptians and the ancient Peruvians, and looked about for a South American corpse. Unexpectedly I saw in several European newspapers and in two English journals that a green Peruvian mummy was for sale at Malta for one thousand pounds. I sent my assistant, Sidney Bolton, to buy it, and he managed to get it, coffin and all, for nine hundred. While in Malta, and before he started back in The Diver with the mummy, he wrote me an account of the transaction. The seller—who was the son of a Maltese collector—told Bolton that his father had picked up the mummy in Paris some twenty and more years ago. It came from Lima some thirty years back, I believe, and, according to the collector in Paris, was the corpse of Inca Caxas. That is the whole story."

Don Pedro nodded gravely.

"Was there a Latin manuscript delivered along with the mummy?" he asked.

Braddock's eyes opened widely.

"No, sir. The mummy came thirty years ago from Lima to Paris. It passed twenty years back into the possession of the Maltese collector, and his son sold it to me a few months ago. I never heard of any manuscript."

"Then Mr. Hope did not repeat to you what I told him the other night?"

The Professor sat down and his mouth grew obstinate.

"Mr. Hope related some story you told him and others about this mummy having been stolen from you."

"From my father," corrected the unsmiling Peruvian; keeping a careful eye on his host; "that is really the case. Inca Caxas is, or was, my ancestor, and this manuscript"—Don Pedro produced the same from his inner pocket—"details the funeral ceremonies."

"Very interesting; most interesting," fussed Braddock, stretching out his hand. "May I see it?"

"You read Latin," observed Don Pedro, surrendering the manuscript.

Braddock raised his eyebrows.

"Of course," he said simply, "every well-educated man reads Latin, or should do so. Wait, sir, until I glance through this document."

"One moment," said Don Pedro, as the Professor began to literally devour the discolored page. "You know from Hope, I have no doubt, how I chance upon my own property in Europe?"

Braddock, still with his eyes on the manuscript, mumbled

"Your own property. Quite so: quite so."

"You admit that. Then you will no doubt restore the mummy to me."

By this time the drift of Don Pedro's observations entirely reached the understanding of the scientist, and he dropped the document he was reading to leap to his feet.

"Restore the mummy to you!" he gasped. "Why, it is mine."

"Pardon me," said the Peruvian, still gravely but very decisively, "you admitted that it belonged to me."

Braddock's face deepened to a fine purple.

"I didn't know what I was saying," he protested. "How could I say it was your property when I have bought it for nine hundred pounds?"

"It was stolen from me."

"That has got to be proved," said Braddock caustically.

Don Pedro rose, looking more like, Don Quixote than ever.

"I have the honor to give you my word and—"

"Yes, yes. That is all right. I cast no imputation on your honor."

"I should think not," said the other coldly but strongly.

"All the same, you can scarcely expect me to part with so valuable an object," Braddock waved his hand towards the case, "without strict inquiry into the circumstances. And again, sir, even if you succeed in proving your ownership, I am not inclined to restore the mummy to you for nothing."

"But it is stolen property you are keeping from me."

"I know nothing about that: I have only your bare word that it is so, Don Pedro. All I know is that I paid nine hundred pounds for the mummy and that it cost the best part of another hundred to bring it to England. What I have, I keep."

"Like your country," said the Peruvian sarcastically.

"Precisely," replied the Professor suavely. "Every Englishman has a bull-dog tenacity of purpose. Brag is a good dog, Don Pedro, but Holdfast is a better one."

"Then I understand," said the Peruvian, stretching out his hand to pick up the fallen manuscript, "that you will keep the mummy."

"Certainly," said Braddock coolly, "since I have paid for it. Also, I shall keep the jewels, which the manuscript tells me—from the glance I obtained of it—were buried with it."

"The sole jewels buried are two large emeralds which the mummy holds in its hands," explained Don Pedro, restoring the manuscript to his pocket, "and I wish for them so that I may get money to restore the fortunes of my family."

"No! no! no!" said Braddock forcibly. "I have bought the mummy and the jewels with it. They will sell to supply me with money to fit out my expedition to the tomb of Queen Tahoser."

"I shall dispute your claim," cried De Gayangos, losing his calmness.

Braddock waved his hand with supreme content.

"I can give you the address of my lawyers," he retorted; "any steps you choose to take will only result in loss, and from what you hint I should not think that you had much money to spend on litigation."

Don Pedro bit his lip, and saw that it was indeed a more difficult task than he had anticipated to make Braddock yield up his prize.

"If you were in Lima," he muttered, speaking Spanish in his excitement, "you would then learn that I speak truly."

"I do not doubt your truth," answered the Professor in the same language.

De Gayangos wheeled and faced his host, much surprised.

"You speak my tongue, senor?" he demanded.

Braddock nodded.

"I have been in Spain, and I have been in Peru," he answered dryly, "therefore I know classical Spanish and its colonial dialects. As to being in Lima, I was there, and I do not wish to go there again, as I had quite enough of those uncivilized parts thirty years ago, when the country was much disturbed after your civil war."

"You were in Lima thirty years ago," echoed Don Pedro; "then you were there when Vasa stole this mummy."

"I don't know who stole it, or even if it was stolen," said the Professor obstinately, "and I don't know the name of Vasa. Ah! now I remember. Young Hope did say something about the Swedish sailor who you said stole the mummy."

"Vasa did, and brought it to Europe to sell—probably to that man in Paris, who afterwards sold it to your Malteses collector."

"No doubt," rejoined Braddock calmly; "but what has all this to do with me, Don Pedro?"

"I want my mummy," raged the other, and looked dangerous.

"Then you won't get it," retorted Braddock, adopting a pugnacious attitude and quite composed. "This mummy has caused one death, Don Pedro, and from your looks I should think you would like it to cause another."

"Will you not be honest?"

"I'll knock your head off if you bring my honesty into question," cried the Professor, standing on tip-toe like a bantam. "The best thing to do will be to take the matter into court. Then the law can decide, and I have little doubt but what it will decide in my favor."

The Englishman and the Peruvian glared at one another, and Cockatoo, who was crouching on the floor, glanced from one angry face to another. He guessed that the white men were quarreling and perhaps would come to blows. It was at this moment that a knock came to the door, and a minute later Archie entered. Braddock glanced at him, and took a sudden resolution as he stepped forward.

"Hope, you are just in time," he declared. "Don Pedro states that the mummy belongs to him, and I assert that I have bought it. We shall make you umpire. He wants it: I want it. What is to be done?"

"The mummy is my own flesh and blood, Mr. Hope," said Don Pedro.

"Precious little of either about it," said Braddock contemptuously.

Archie twisted a chair round and straddled his long legs across it, with his arms resting on its back. His quick brain had rapidly comprehended the situation, and, being acquainted with both sides of the question, it was not difficult to come to a decision. If it was hard that Don Pedro should lose his ancestor's mummy, it was equally hard that Braddock—or rather himself—should lose the purchase money, seeing that it had been paid in good faith to the seller in Malta for a presumably righteously acquired object. On these premises the young Solon proceeded to deliver judgment.

"I understand," said he judiciously, "that Don Pedro had the mummy stolen from him thirty years ago, and that you, Professor, bought it under the impression that the Maltese owner had a right to possess it."

"Yes," snapped Braddock, "and I daresay the Maltese owner thought so too, since he bought it from that collector in Paris."

Hope nodded.

"And if Vasa sold it to the man in Paris," said he calmly, "he certainly would not tell the purchaser that he had looted the mummy in Lima, and the poor man would not know that he was receiving stolen goods. Is that right, Don Pedro?"

"Yes, sir," said the Peruvian, who had recovered his temper and his gravity; "but I declare solemnly that the mummy was stolen from my father and should belong to me."

"No one disputes that," said Archie cheerfully; "but it ought to belong to the Professor also, since he has bought it. Now, as it can't possibly belong to two people, we must split the difference. You, Professor, must sell back the mummy to Don Pedro for the price you paid for it, and then, Don Pedro, you must recompense Professor Braddock for his loss."

"I have not much money," said Don Pedro gravely; "still, I am willing to do as you say."

"I don't know that I am," protested Braddock noisily. "There are the two emeralds which are of immense value, as Don Pedro says, and they belong to me, since the mummy is my property."

"Professor," said Archie solemnly, "you must do right, even if you lose by it. I believe the story of Senor De Gayangos; and the mummy with its jewels belongs to him. Besides, you only wish to see the way in which the Inca race embalmed their dead. Well, then, unpack the mummy here in the presence of Don Pedro. When you have satisfied your curiosity, and when Senor De Gayangos signs a check for one thousand pounds, he can take away the corpse. You have had so much trouble over it, that I wonder your are not anxious to see the last of it."

"But the emeralds would sell for much money and would defray the expenses of my expedition into Egypt to search for that Queen's tomb."

"I understood from Lucy that Mrs. Jasher intended to finance that expedition when she became your wife."

"Humph!" muttered Braddock, stroking his fat chin. "I said a few foolish things to her last night when I was heated up. She may not forgive me, Hope."

"A woman will forgive anything to the man she loves," said Archie.

Braddock was no fool, and could not help casting a glance at his tubby figure, which was reflected in a near mirror. It seemed incredible that Mrs. Jasher could love him for his looks, and the fact that he might some day be a baronet did not strike him at the moment as a consideration. However, he foresaw trouble and expense should Don Pedro go to law, as he seemed determined to do. Taking all things into consideration, Braddock thought that Archie's judgment was a good one, and yielded.

"Well," he said after reflection, "let us agree. I shall open the case and examine the mummy, which after all is the reason why I bought it. When I have satisfied myself as to the difference between the modes of embalming, Don Pedro can give me a check and take away the mummy. I only hope that he will have less trouble with it than I have had," and, so speaking, Braddock, signing to Cockatoo to bring all the necessary tools, laid hands on the case.

"I am content," said Don Pedro briefly, and seated himself in a chair beside the young Daniel who had delivered judgment.

Hope offered to assist the Professor to open the case, but was dismissed with an abrupt refusal.

"Though I am glad you are present to see the mummy unpacked," said Braddock, laboring at the lid of the case, "for if the emeralds are missing, Don Pedro might accuse me of stealing them."

"Why should the emeralds be missing?" asked Hope quickly.

Braddock shrugged his shoulders.

"Sidney Bolton was killed," said he in a low voice, "and it was not likely that any one would commit a murder for the sake of this mummy, and then leave it stranded in Mrs. Jasher's garden. I have my doubts about the safety of the emeralds, else I would not have consented to sell the thing back again."

With this honest speech, the Professor vigorously attacked the lid of the case, and inserted a steel instrument into the cracks to prize up the covering. The lid was closed with wooden pegs in an antique but perfectly safe manner, and apparently had not been opened since the dead Inca had been laid to rest therein hundreds of years ago among the Andean mountains. Don Pedro winced at this desecration of the dead, but, as he had given his consent, there was nothing left to do but to grin and bear it. In a wonderfully short space of time, considering the neatness of the workmanship and the holding power of the wooden pegs, the lid was removed. Then the four on-lookers saw that the mummy had been tampered with. Swathed in green-stained llama wool, it lay rigid in its case. But the swathings had been cut; the hands protruded and the emeralds were gone—torn rudely from the hard grip of the dead.



CHAPTER XV. AN ACCUSATION

Both Don Pedro and Professor Braddock were amazed and angry at the disappearance of the jewels, but Hope did not express much surprise. Considering the facts of the murder, it was just what he expected, although it must be confessed that he was wise after the event.

"I refer you to your own words immediately before the case was opened, Professor," he remarked, after the first surprise had subsided.

"Words! words!" snapped Braddock, who was anything but pleased. "What words of mine do you mean, Hope?"

"You said that it was not likely that any one would commit a murder for the sake of the mummy only, and then leave it stranded in Mrs. Jasher's garden. Also, you declared that you had your doubts about the safety of the emeralds, else you would not have consented to sell the mummy again to its rightful owner."

The Professor nodded.

"Quite so: quite so. And what I say I hold to," he retorted, "especially as I have proved myself a true prophet. You can both see for yourselves," he waved his hand towards the rifled case, "that poor Sidney must have been killed for the sake of the emeralds. The question is, who killed him?"

"The person who knew about the jewels," said Don Pedro promptly.

"Of course: but who did know? I was ignorant until you told me about the manuscript. And you, Hope?" He searched Archie's face.

"Do you intend to accuse me?" questioned the young man with a slight laugh. "I assure you, Professor, that I was ignorant of what had been buried with the corpse, until Don Pedro related his story the other night to myself and Random, and the ladies."

Braddock turned impatiently to De Gayangos, as he did not approve of Archie's apparent flippancy.

"Does any one else know of the contents of this manuscript?" he demanded irritably.

Don Pedro nursed his chin and looked musingly on the ground.

"It is just possible that Vasa may."

"Vasa? Vasa? Oh yes, the sailor who stole the mummy thirty years ago from your father in Lima. Pooh! pooh! pooh! You tell me that this manuscript is written in Latin, and evidently in monkish Latin at that, which is of the worst. Your sailor could not read it, and would not know the value of the manuscript. If he had, he would have carried it off."

"Senor," said the Peruvian politely, "I have an idea that my father made a translation of this manuscript, or at all events a copy."

"But I understood," put in Hope, still astride of his chair, "that you did not find the original manuscript until your father died."

"That is quite true, sir," assented the other readily, "but I did not tell you everything the other night. My father it was who found the manuscript at Cuzco, and although I cannot state authoritatively, yet I believe I am correct in saying that he had a copy made. But whether the copy was merely a transcript or actually a translation, I cannot tell. I think it was the former, as if Vasa, reading a translation, had learned of the jewels, he undoubtedly would have stolen them before selling this mummy to the Parisian collector."

"Perhaps he did," said Braddock, pointing to the rifled corpse. "You see that the emeralds are missing."

"Your assistant's assassin stole them," insisted Don Pedro coldly.

"We cannot be sure of that," retorted the Professor, "although I admit that no man would jeopardize his neck for the sake of a corpse."

Archie looked surprised.

"But an enthusiast such as you are, Professor, might risk so much."

For once in his life Braddock made a good-humored reply.

"No, sir. Not even for this mummy would I place myself in the power of the law. And I do not think that any other scientist would either. We savants may not be worldly, but we are not fools. However, the fact remains that the jewels are gone, and whether they were stolen by Vasa thirty years ago, or by poor Sidney's assassin the other day, I don't know, and, what is more, I don't care. I shall examine the mummy further, and in a couple of days Don Pedro can bring me a check for one thousand and remove his ancestor."

"No! no!" cried the Peruvian hurriedly; "since the emeralds are missing, I am not in a position to pay you one thousand English pounds, sir. I want to take back the body of Inca Caxas to Lima; as one must show respect to one's ancestors. But the fact is, I cannot pay the money."

"You said that you could," shouted the exasperated Professor in his bullying way.

"I admit it, senor, but I had hoped to do so when I sold the emeralds, which—as you can see—are not available. Therefore the body of my royal ancestor must remain here until I can procure the money. And it may be that Sir Frank Random will help me in this matter."

"He wouldn't help me," snapped Braddock, "so why should he help you?"

Don Pedro, looking more dignified than ever, drew himself up to his tall height.

"Sir Frank," he said, in a stately way, "has done me the honor of seeking to be my son-in-law. As my daughter loves him, I am willing to permit the marriage, but now that I have learned the emeralds are lost, I shall not consent until Sir Frank buys the mummy from you, Professor. It is only right that my daughter's hand should redeem her regal forefather from purely scientific surroundings and that she should take the mummy back to be buried in Lima. At the same time, sir, I must say that I am the rightful owner of the dead, and that you should surrender the mummy to me free of charge."

"What, and lose a thousand pounds!" cried Braddock furiously. "No, sir, I shall do nothing of the sort. You only wanted the mummy for the sake of the jewels, and now that they are lost, you do not care what becomes of your confounded ancestor, and you—"

The Professor would have gone on still more furiously, but that Hope, seeing Don Pedro was growing angry at the insult, chimed in.

"Let me throw oil on the troubled waters," he said, smoothly. "Don Pedro is not able to redeem the mummy until the emeralds are found. As such is the case, we must find the emeralds and enable him to do what is necessary."

"And how are we to find the jewels?" asked Braddock crossly.

"By finding the assassin."

"How is that to be done?" asked De Gayangos gloomily. "I have been doing my best at Pierside, but I cannot find a single clue. Vasa is not to be found."

"Vasa!" exclaimed Archie and the Professor, both profoundly astonished.

Don Pedro raised his eyebrows.

"Certainly. Vasa, if anyone, must have killed your assistant, since he alone could have known that the jewels were buried with Inca Caxas."

"But, my dear sir," argued Hope good-naturedly, "if Vasa stole the manuscript, whether translated or not, he certainly must have learned the truth long, long ago, since thirty years have elapsed. In that event he must have stolen the jewels, as Professor Braddock remarked lately, before he sold the mummy to the Parisian collector."

"That may be so," said Don Pedro obstinately, while the Professor muttered his approval, "but we cannot be certain on that point. No one—I agree with the Professor in this—would have risked his neck to steal a mere mummy, therefore the motive for the committal of the crime must have been the emeralds. Only Vasa knew of their existence outside myself and my dead father. He, therefore, must be the assassin. I shall hunt for him, and, when I find him, I shall have him arrested."

"But you can't possibly recognize the man after thirty years?" argued Braddock disbelievingly.

"I have a royal memory for faces," said Don Pedro imperturbably, "and in the past I saw much of Vasa. He was then a young sailor of twenty."

"Humph!" muttered Braddock. "He is now fifty, and must have changed in thirty years. You'll never recognize him."

"Oh, I think so," said the Peruvian smoothly. "His eyes were peculiarly blue and full of light. Also, he had a scar on the right temple from a blow which he received in a street riot in which I also was concerned. Finally, gentlemen, Vasa loved a peon girl on my father's estate, and she induced him to have the sun encircled by a serpent—a Peruvian symbol—tattooed on his left wrist. With all these marks, and with my memory for faces, which never yet has failed me, I have no doubt but what I shall recognize the man."

"And then?"

"And then I shall have him arrested"

Hope shrugged his square shoulders. He had not much belief in Don Pedro's boasted royal memory, and did not think that he would recognize a young sailor of twenty in what would certainly be a grizzled old salt of fifty years. However, it was possible that the man might be right in his surmise, since Vasa alone could have known about the emeralds. The only doubt was whether he would have waited for thirty years before looting the mummy. Archie said nothing of these thoughts, as they would only serve to prolong an unprofitable discussion. But he made one suggestion.

"Your best plan," he said suggestively, "is to write a description of Vasa—who, by the way, has probably changed his name—and hand it to the police, with the promise of a reward if he is found."

"I am very poor, senor. Surely the Professor here—"

"I can offer nothing," said Braddock quickly, "as I am quite as poor as you are, if not more so, Sir Frank might help," he added sarcastically.

"I shall not ask," said Don Pedro loftily. "If Sir Frank chooses to become my son-in-law by purchasing back my royal ancestor, to which you have no right, I am willing that it should be so. But, poor as I am, I shall offer a reward myself, since the honor of the De Gayangoses is involved in this matter. What reward do you suggest, Mr. Hope?"

"Five hundred pounds," said the Professor quickly.

"Too much," said Hope sharply—"far too much. Make the reward one hundred pounds, Don Pedro. That is enough to tempt many a man."

The Peruvian bowed and noted down the amount.

"I shall go at once to Pierside and see Inspector Date, who had to do with the inquest," he remarked. "Meanwhile, Professor, please do not desecrate my royal ancestor's body more than you can help."

"I shall certainly not search for any more emeralds," retorted Braddock dryly. "Now, clear out, both of you, and leave me to examine the mummy. Cockatoo, show these gentlemen out, and let no one else in."

Don Pedro returned to the Warrior Hotel to inform his daughter of what had taken place, with the intention of going in the afternoon to Pierside. Meanwhile, he wrote out a full description of Vasa, making an allowance for the lapse of years and explaining the scar and the symbol on the left wrist. Hope also sought Lucy and related the latest development of the case. The girl was not surprised, as she likewise believed that the assassin had desired more than the mummy when he murdered Sidney Bolton.