“He was hard on her,” confessed Archie slowly.
“Being such a villain himself,” said Random grimly. “However, Cockatoo arrived unluckily on the scene, and when he found she had parted with the emerald, and had written out the truth, he stabbed her. If we hadn't come just in the nick of time, he would have annexed that confession, and the truth would never have become known. No one,” ended Random, rising and stretching himself, “would connect Braddock or Cockatoo with the death of Mrs. Jasher.”
“Or with the death of Sidney Bolton either,” said Hope, also rising and putting on his cap. “What an actor the man is!”
“Where are you going?” demanded Sir Frank, yawning.
“To the Pyramids. I want to see how Lucy is.”
“Will you tell her about that confession?”
“Not until later. I shall give this to Inspector Date when he arrives. The Professor has made his bed, so he must lie on it. When I marry Lucy, I'll take her away from this damned place.”
“Marry her at once, then,” advised Random, “while the Professor is doing time, and while Cockatoo is being hanged. Meanwhile, I think you had better put on your overcoat, unless you want to walk through the village in crumpled evening dress, like a dissipated undergraduate.”
Archie laughed in spite of his weariness, and assumed his greatcoat at the same moment as Random slipped into his. The two young men walked out into the village and up to the Pyramids, for Random wished to see Braddock before returning to the Fort. They found the door of the great house open and the servants in the hall.
“What is all this?” demanded Hope, entering. “Why are you here, and not at work? Where is your master?”
“He's run away,” said the cook in a shrill voice. “Lord knows why, sir.”
“Archie! Archie!” Lucy came running out of the museum, pale-faced and white, “my father has gone away with Cockatoo and the green mummy. What does it mean? And just when poor Mrs. Jasher is murdered too.”
“Hush, darling! Come in, and I'll explain,” said Hope gently.
CHAPTER XXVI. THE APPOINTMENT
Poor Lucy Kendal was terribly grieved and shocked when the full account of her step-father's iniquity was revealed to her. Archie tried to break the news as delicately as possible, but no words could soften the sordid story. Lucy, at first, could not believe it possible that a man, whom she had known for so long, and to whom she was related, would behave in such a base way. To convince her Hope was forced to let her read the account in Mrs. Jasher's handwriting. When acquainted with the contents, the poor girl's first desire was to have the matter hushed up, and she implored her lover with tears to suppress the damning document.
“That is impossible,” said Hope firmly; “and if you think again, my dear, you will not repeat such a request. It is absolutely necessary that this should be placed in the hands of the police, and that the truth should become as widely known as possible. Unless the matter is settled once and for all, someone else may be accused of this murder.”
“But the disgrace,” wept Lucy, hiding her face on her lover's shoulder.
He slipped his arm round her waist.
“My darling, the disgrace exists whether it be public or private. After all, the Professor is no relation.”
“No. But everyone knows that I am his step-daughter.”
“Everyone,” echoed Archie, with an assumed lightness. “My dear, everyone in this instance only means the handful of people who live in this out-of-the-way village. Your name will not appear in the papers. And even if by chance it does, you will soon be changing it for mine. I think the best thing that can be done is for you to come with me to London next week and marry me. Then we can go to the south of France for the rest of the winter, until you recover. When we return and set up house in London--say in a year--the whole affair will be forgotten.”
“But how can you bear to marry me, when you know that I come of such a bad stock?” wept Lucy, a trifle more comforted.
“My dear, must I remind you again that you are no relation to Professor Braddock; you have not a drop of his wicked blood in your veins. And even if you had, I should still marry you. It is you I love, and you I marry, so there is no more to be said. Come, darling, say that you will become my wife next week.”
“But the Professor?”
Archie smiled grimly. He found it difficult to forgive Braddock for the disgrace he had brought on the girl.
“I don't think we'll ever be troubled again with the Professor,” he said, after a pause. “He has bolted into the unknown with that infernal Kanaka.”
“But why did he fly, Archie?”
“Because he knew that the game was up. Mrs. Jasher wrote out this confession, and told Cockatoo, when he entered the room to get the emerald, that she had written it. To save his master the Kanaka stabbed the wretched woman, and, had Random and I not arrived, he would have secured the confession. I really believe he came back again out of the mist in the small hours of the morning to steal it. But when he found that all was vain, he returned here and told the Professor that the story of the murder had been written out. Therefore there was nothing left to Braddock but to fly. Although,” added Hope, with an afterthought, “I can't imagine why those two fugitives should drag that confounded mummy with them.”
“But why should the Professor fly?” asked Lucy again. “According to what Mrs. Jasher writes, he did not strangle poor Sidney.”
“No. And I will do him the justice to say that he had no idea of having his assistant murdered. It was Cockatoo's savage blood which came out in the deed, and maybe it can be explained by the Kanaka's devotion to the Professor. It was the same way in the murder of Mrs. Jasher. By killing Bolton, the Kanaka hoped to save the emeralds for Braddock: in stabbing Mrs. Jasher, he hoped to save the Professor's life.”
“Oh, Archie, will they hang my father?”
Hope winced.
“Call him your step-father,” he said quickly. “No, dear, I do not think he will be hanged; but as an accessory after the fact he will certainly be condemned to a long term of imprisonment. Cockatoo, however, assuredly will be hanged, and a good job too. He is only a savage, and as such is dangerous in a civilized community. I wonder where they have gone? Did anyone hear them going?”
“No,” said Lucy unhesitatingly. “Cook came up this morning to my room, and said that my father--I mean my step-father--had gone away with Cockatoo and with the green mummy. I don't know why she should have said that, as the Professor often went away unexpectedly.”
“Perhaps she heard rumors in the village and put two and two together. I cannot tell. Some instinct must have told her. But I daresay Braddock and his accomplice fled under cover of the mist and in the small hours of the morning. They must have known that the confession would bring the officers of the law to this house.”
“I hope they will escape,” murmured Lucy.
“Well, I am not sure,” said Hope hesitatingly. “Of course, I should like to avoid a scandal for your sake, and yet it is only right that the two of them should be punished. Remember, Lucy dear, how Braddock has acted all along in deceiving us. He knew all, and yet not one of us suspected him.”
While Archie was thus comforting the poor girl, Gartley village was in an uproar. Everyone was talking about this new crime, and everyone was wondering who had stabbed the unlucky woman. As yet the confession of Mrs. Jasher had not been placed in the hands of the police and everyone was ignorant that Cockatoo was the criminal who had escaped in the fog. Inspector Date speedily arrived with his myrmidons on the scene and made the cottage his headquarters. Later in the day, Hope, having taken a cold bath to freshen himself up, came with the confession. This he gave to the officer and explained the whole story of the previous night.
Date was more than astonished: he was astounded. He read the confession and made notes; then he sent for Sir Frank Random, and examined him in the same strict way as he had examined the artist. Jane was also questioned. Widow Anne was put in the witness box, so as to report about the clothes, and in every way Date gathered material for another inquest. At the former one he had only been able to place scanty evidence before the jury, and the verdict had been unsatisfactory to the public. But on this occasion, seeing that the witnesses he could bring forward would solve the mystery of the first death as well as the second, Inspector Date exulted greatly. He saw himself promoted and his salary raised, and his name praised in the papers as a zealous and clever officer. By the time the inquest came to be held, the inspector had talked himself into believing that the whole mystery had been solved by himself. But before that time came another event happened which astonished everyone, and which made the final phase of the green mummy crime even more sensational than it had been. And Heaven knows that from beginning to end there had been no lack of melodrama of the most lurid description.
Don Pedro de Gayangos was exceedingly amazed at the unexpected turn which the case had taken. That he should have been trying to solve a deep mystery for so long, and that the solution, all the time, had been in the hands of the Professor, startled him exceedingly. He admitted that he had never liked Braddock, but explained that he had not expected to hear that the fiery little scientist was such a scoundrel. But, as Don Pedro confessed, it was an ill wind which blew him some good, when the upshot of the whole mysterious tragic business was the restoration of at least one emerald. Sir Frank brought the gem to him on the afternoon of the day succeeding Mrs. Jasher's death, and while the whole village was buzzing with excitement. It was Random who gave all details to Donna Inez and her father, leading from one revelation to another, until he capped the whole extraordinary story by producing the splendid gem.