There remained Hervey. Random laughed aloud when the name came into his puzzled head. That buccaneer was the last person to surrender his plunder or to feel compunction in committing a crime. Once the skipper got his grip on two jewels, worth endless money, he would never let them go--not even one of them. Arguing thus, it seemed that Hervey was out of the running, and Random could think of no one else. In this dilemma he remembered that two heads were better than one, and, before going into dinner, he sent a note to Archie Hope, asking him to come to the Fort as speedily as possible.
Sir Frank was somewhat dull at dinner on that evening, and scarcely responded to the joking remarks of his brother officers. These jocularly put his preoccupation down to love, for it was an open secret that the baronet admired the fair Peruvian, although no one as yet knew that Random was legally engaged with Don Pedro's consent. The young man good-humoredly stood all the chaff hurled at him, but seized the opportunity to slip away to his quarters as soon as coffee came on the table and the smoking began. It was nine o'clock before he returned to his room, and here he found Hope waiting for him impatiently.
“I see you have been dining at the Pyramids,” said Random, seeing that Hope was in evening dress.
Archie nodded.
“Yes. I don't put on this kit to have my humble chop at my lodgings. But the Professor asked me to dinner to talk over matters.”
“What does he say?” asked Random, looking for the cigarette box.
“Oh, he is very angry with Mrs. Jasher, and considers that she has swindled him. He called to see her this afternoon, and--so he says--had a stormy interview with her.”
“I don't wonder at that, if he speaks as he generally does,” said the other grimly, and pushing along the cigarettes, “There you are! The whisky and soda are on yonder table. Make yourself comfortable, and tell me what the Professor intends to do.”
“Well,” said Archie, turning half round from the side table where he was pouring out the whisky, “he had already started action, by sending Cockatoo to live at the Sailor's Rest and spy on Hervey.”
“What rubbish! Hervey is, going away to-morrow in The Firefly, bound for Algiers. Nothing is to be learned from him.”
“So I told the Professor,” said Hope, returning to the armchair near the fire, “and I mentioned that Don Pedro had induced the skipper to write out a full account of the theft of the mummy from Lima thirty years ago. I also said that the signed paper would be handed in at the Gartley jetty when The Firefly came down stream to-morrow night.”
“Humph! And what did Braddock say to that?”
“Nothing much. He merely stated that whatever Hervey said toward proving the ownership of your future father-in-law, that he intended to stick to the embalmed corpse of Inca Caxas, and also that he intended to claim the emeralds when they turned up.”
Random rose and went to the drawer of his desk.
“I am afraid he has lost one emerald, at all events,” he said, unlocking the drawer.
“What's that?” said Hope sharply. “Why did you--oh, gosh!” He jumped up with an amazed look as Random held up the magnificent gem, from which streamed vividly green flames in the mellow lamplight. “Oh, gosh!” gasped the artist again. “Where the devil did you get that?”
“I sent for you to tell you,” said Sir Frank, giving the jewel into his friend's hand and coming back to his seat. “It was found in the sentry box.”
Hope stared at the great jewel and then at the soldier.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded. “How the dickens could it be found in a sentry box? You must be making a mistake.”
“Not a bit of it. It was found on the floor of the box by the sentry, as I tell you, and I have sent to consult with you as to how the deuce it got there.”
“Hervey,” muttered Archie, fascinated by the gem.
Random shrugged his square shoulders.
“Catch that Yankee Shylock returning anything he got his grip on, even as a wedding present.”
“A wedding present,” said Hope, more at sea than ever. “If you don't mind giving me details, old chap, my head would buzz less.”
“I rather think that it will buzz more,” said Random dryly, and, producing the brown paper in which the gem had been wrapped, and the inscribed paper found within, he related all that had happened.
Archie listened quietly and did not interrupt, but the puzzled look on his face grew more pronounced.
“Well,” ended Random, seeing that no remark was made when he had finished, “what do you think?”
“Lord knows! I'll go out of my mind if these sort of things come along. I am a simple sort of chap, and have no use for mysteries which beat all the detective stories I have ever read. That sort of thing is all very well in fiction, but in real life--humph! What are you going to do?”
“Give back the emerald to Don Pedro.”
“Of course, though, it is given to you for a wedding present. And then?”
“Then”--Random stared into the fire--“I don't know. I asked you in to assist me.”
“Willingly; but how?”
Random pondered for a few moments.
“Who sent that emerald to me, do you think?” he asked, looking squarely at the artist.
Hope meditatively turned the jewel in his long fingers.
“Why not ask Mrs. Jasher?” he suggested suddenly.
“No!” Sir Frank shook his head. “I fancied it might be her, but it cannot be. If she is guilty--as she must be, should she have sent the emerald--she would not part with her plunder when she is so hard up. I am beginning to believe, Hope, that what she said was true about the letter.”
“How do you mean exactly?”
“That the letter was mere bluff and that she really knows nothing about the crime. By the way, did Braddock learn anything?”
“Not a thing. He merely said that the two of them fought. I expect Braddock stormed and Mrs. Jasher retorted. Both of them have too much tongue-music to come to any understanding. By the way--to echo, your own phrase--you had better put away this gem or I shall be strangling you myself in order to gain possession of it. The mere sight of that gorgeous color tempts me beyond my strength.”
Random laughed and locked the jewel in his drawer. Hope suggested that with such a flimsy lock it was unsafe, but the baronet shook his head.
“It is safer here than in a woman's jewel case,” he asserted. “No one looks to my drawer, and certainly no one would expect to find a crown jewel of this description in my quarters. Well,” he came back to his seat, slipping his keys into his trouser pocket, “the whole thing puzzles me.”
“Why not do as I suggest and go to Mrs. Jasher? In any case you are going there to-night, are you not?”
“Yes. I want to decide what to do about the woman. I had intended to go alone, but as you are here you may as well come also.”
“I shall be delighted. What do you intend to do?”
“Help her,” said Random briefly.
“She doesn't deserve it,” replied Hope, lighting a fresh cigarette.
“Does anyone ever deserve anything?” asked Sir Frank cynically. “What does Miss Kendal think of the business? I suppose Braddock told her. He has too long a tongue to keep anything to himself.”
“He told her at dinner, when I was present. Lucy is quite on your side. She says that she had known Mrs. Jasher for months and that there is good in her, although I am bound to say that Lucy was a trifle shocked.”
“Does she want Mrs. Jasher to marry her father now?”
“Her step-father,” corrected Archie immediately. “No, that is out of the question. But she would like Mrs. Jasher to be helped out of her difficulties and have a fair start. It was only by the greatest diplomacy that I prevented Lucy going to see the wretched woman this evening.”
“Why did you prevent her?”
Archie colored.
“I daresay I am a trifle prudish,” he replied, “but after what has happened I do not wish Lucy to associate with Mrs. Jasher. Do you blame me?”
“No, I don't. All the same, I don't think that Mrs. Jasher is an immoral woman by any means.”
“Perhaps not; but we needn't discuss her character, as we know precious little of her past, and she no doubt told you the story that best suited herself. I think it will be best to make her tell all she knows this evening, and then send her away with a sum of money in her pocket to begin a new life.”
“I shall help her certainly,” said Random, with his eyes on the fire, “but can't say exactly how. It is my opinion that the poor wretch is more sinned against than sinning.”
“You are a soldier with a conscience, Random.”
The other laughed.
“Why shouldn't a soldier have a conscience? Do you take your idea of officers from the lady novelist, who makes us out to be all idle idiots?”
“Not exactly. All the same, many a man would not take the trouble to behave as you are doing to this unlucky woman.”
“Any man, who was a man, whether soldier or civilian, would help such a poor creature. And I believe, Hope, that you will help her also.”
The artist leaped to his feet impulsively.
“Of course. I'm with you right along, as Hervey would say. But first, before deciding what we shall do to set Mrs. Jasher on her legs again, let us hear what she has to say.”
“She can say nothing more than she has said,” remonstrated Random.