The Green Mummy

“You merely discovered a mare’s nest,” said Random contemptuously; “but this is not the point. I believe that you, and you only, could have hidden that manuscript among my books, intending that it should be discovered, so that I might be implicated in this crime.”

“Did your flunky tell you that much?” inquired Hervey coolly.

“My servant told me nothing, save that you had been in my room, where you had no right to be.”

“Then,” said the American quietly and decisively, “I can’t see, sir, how you can place the ticket on me.”

“You accuse me, so why should I not accuse you?” retorted Random.

“Because you are guilty, and I ain’t,” snapped the American.

“You join issue: you join issue,” murmured Braddock, rubbing his hands.

Random took no notice of the interruption.

“I have heard from Mr. Hope and Professor Braddock of the grounds upon which you base your accusation, and I have explained to them how I came to be on board your ship and both in and out of the Sailor’s Rest.”

“And the explanation is quite satisfactory,” said Hope smartly.

“I agree,” Donna Inez nodded with very bright eyes. “Sir Frank has explained to me also. He knew nothing of the manuscript.”

“And you, sir,” said Don Pedro quietly to Captain Hervey, “apparently did, since you stole it along with the mummy from Lima.”

“I confess the theft, but I didn’t know what the manuscript contained,” said the skipper dryly, “or I reckon you wouldn’t have to ask who stole the emeralds. No, sir, I should have looted them.”

“I believe you did, and murdered Bolton,” cried Random hotly.

“Shucks!” retorted Hervey, rising with a shrug, “if I had wished to get rid of Bolton, I’d have yanked him overboard and then would have written `accident’ in my blamed log-book.”

Braddock looked at Don Pedro, and Archie at Sir Frank. What the skipper said was plausible enough. No man would have been such a fool as to have murdered Bolton ashore, when he could have done so without suspicion on board the tramp. Moreover, Hervey spoke with genuine regret, since he had missed the emeralds and assuredly would not have hesitated to steal them even at the cost of Bolton’s life, had he known of their whereabouts. So far he had made a good defense, and, seeing the impression produced, he strolled to the door. There he halted.

“If you gents want to lynch me,” he said leisurely, “I’ll be found at the Sailor’s Rest for the next week. Then I’m going as skipper of The Firefly steamer, Port o’ London, to Algiers. You can send the sheriff along whenever you choose. But I mean to have my picnic first, and to-morrow I’m going to Inspector Date with my yarn. Then I guess that almighty aristocrat wilt find himself in quod.”

“Wait a moment,” cried Braddock, running to the door. “Let me talk to you and arrange what is best to be done. If you will – ”

He proceeded no further, for without vouchsafing him a reply, Hervey, now quite master of the situation, passed through the door, and the Professor hastily followed him. Those who remained looked at one another, scarcely knowing what to say, or how to act.

“They will arrest thee, my angel,” cried Donna Inez, clasping Random’s arm.

“Let them,” retorted the young man defiantly. “They can prove nothing. With all my heart and soul I believe Hervey to be the guilty person. Hope, what do you say? – and you, Miss Kendal?”

“Hervey has certainly made an excellent defense,” said Archie cautiously. “He wouldn’t have been such a fool as to murder Bolton ashore when he could have done it so easily when on the narrow seas.”

“I agree with you there,” said Random quickly. “But if he is innocent; if he did not bring the manuscript into my room, who did?”

“I wonder if Widow Anne herself is guilty?” said Lucy in a musing tone.

All present turned and looked at the girl.

“Who is Widow Anne?” asked Don Pedro with a puzzled air.

“She is the mother of Sidney Bolton, the man who was murdered,” said Hope quickly. “My dear Lucy, why do you say that?”

Lucy paused before replying and then answered the question by asking another one.

“Did you ask Sidney to get you some clothes from his mother to clothe a model?”

“Never in my life,” said Hope promptly, and, as Lucy, saw, truly.

“Well, I accidentally met Mrs. Bolton to-day, and she insisted that her son had borrowed from her a dark shawl and a dark dress for you.”

“That is not true,” said Hope hotly. “Why should the woman tell such a lie?”

“Well,” said Lucy slowly, “it struck me that the woman who spoke with Sidney through the Sailor’s Rest window might be Widow Anne herself, and that she has invented this story of the clothes being lent to account for their being worn, should she be discovered.”

“It’s certainly odd she should speak like this,” said Random thoughtfully; “but you forget, Miss Kendal, that she proved an alibi.”

“What of that?” cried Don Pedro hurriedly, “alibis can be manufactured.”

“It will be best to see this woman and question her,” suggested Donna Inez.

Archie nodded.

“I shall do so to-morrow. By the way, does she ever come to your room in the Fort, Random?”

“Oh yes, she is my laundress, you know, and at times brings back the clothes herself. My servant is usually in, though. I see what you mean. That she might have received the manuscript from Bolton, and have left it in my room.”

“Yes, I think that,” said Archie slowly. “I should not be at all surprised to learn that a portion of Hervey’s theory is correct. Bolton may have found the manuscript packed up in the mummy, amongst the graveclothes, in fact. If he read it – as he would and could, seeing that he was an excellent Latin scholar, thanks to Professor Braddock’s training – he might have formed a design to steal the emeralds when he was in the Sailor’s Rest. Then someone saved him the trouble, and packed him off to Gartley instead of the mummy.”

“But why should Widow Anne leave the manuscript in my room?” argued Random.

“Can’t you see? Bolton knew that you wanted the mummy for Don Pedro, and was aware how you had – so to speak – used threats in the presence of witnesses, since you spoke out aloud on the deck.”

“Only to warn Bolton against the Indians,” pleaded Random.

“Exactly; but your words were capable of being twisted as Hervey has twisted them. Well, if Widow Anne really went to see her son – and from the lie about the borrowed clothes it looks like it – he may have given her the manuscript, so as to throw the blame on you.”

“The murder?”

“No, no,” said Archie testily. “Bolton did not expect to be murdered. But I really believe that he intended to fly with the emeralds, and hoped that when the manuscript was found in your room you would be accused. The idea was suggested to him, I believe, by your visit to The Diver.”

“What do you think, Miss Kendal?” asked Random nervously.

“I fancy that it is possible.”

Sir Frank turned to the Peruvian.

“Don Pedro,” he said proudly, “you have heard what Hervey says; do you believe that I am guilty?”