The Green Mummy
TextCHAPTER III. A MYSTERIOUS TOMB
One member of the Braddock household was not included in the general staff, being a mere appendage of the Professor himself. This was a dwarfish, misshapen Kanaka, a pigmy in height, but a giant in breadth, with short, thick legs, and long, powerful arms. He had a large head, and a somewhat handsome face, with melancholy black eyes and a fine set of white teeth. Like most Polynesians, his skin was of a pale bronze and elaborately tattooed, even the cheeks and chin being scored with curves and straight lines of mystical import. But the most noticeable thing about him was his huge mop of frizzled hair, which, by some process, known only to himself, he usually dyed a vivid yellow. The flaring locks streaming from his head made him resemble a Peruvian image of the sun, and it was this peculiar coiffure which had procured for him the odd name of Cockatoo. The fact that this grotesque creature invariably wore a white drill suit, emphasized still more the suggestion of his likeness to an Australian parrot.
Cockatoo had come from the Solomon Islands in his teens to the colony of Queensland, to work on the plantations, and there the Professor had picked him up as his body servant. When Braddock returned to marry Mrs. Kendal, the boy had refused to leave him, although it was represented to the young savage that he was somewhat too barbaric for sober England. Finally, the Professor had consented to bring him over seas, and had never regretted doing so, for Cockatoo, finding his scientific master a true friend, worshipped him as a visible god. Having been captured when young by Pacific black-birders, he talked excellent English, and from contact with the necessary restraints of civilization was, on the whole, extremely well behaved. Occasionally, when teased by the villagers and his fellow-servants, he would break into childish rages, which bordered on the dangerous. But a word from Braddock always quieted him, and when penitent he would crawl like a whipped dog to the feet of his divinity. For the most part he lived entirely in the museum, looking after the collection and guarding it from harm. Lucy – who had a horror of the creature’s uncanny looks – objected to Cockatoo waiting at the table, and it was only on rare occasions that he was permitted to assist the harassed parlormaid. On this night the Kanaka acted excellently as a butler, and crept softly round the table, attending to the needs of the diners. He was an admirable servant, deft and handy, but his blue-lined face and squat figure together with the obtrusively golden halo, rather worried Mrs. Jasher. And, indeed, in spite of custom, Lucy also felt uncomfortable when this gnome hovered at her elbow. It looked as though one of the fantastical idols from the museum below had come to haunt the living.
“I do not like that Golliwog,” breathed Mrs. Jasher to her host, when Cockatoo was at the sideboard. “He gives me the creeps.”
“Imagination, my dear lady, pure imagination. Why should we not have a picturesque animal to wait upon us?”
“He would wait picturesquely enough at a cannibal feast,” suggested Archie, with a laugh.
“Don’t!” murmured Lucy, with a shiver. “I shall not be able to eat my dinner if you talk so.”
“Odd that Hope should say what he has said,” observed Braddock confidently to the widow. “Cockatoo comes from a cannibal island, and doubtless has seen the consumption of human flesh. No, no, my dear lady, do not look so alarmed. I don’t think he has eaten any, as he was taken to Queensland long before he could participate in such banquets. He is a very decent animal.”
“A very dangerous one, I fancy,” retorted Mrs. Jasher, who looked pale.
“Only when he loses his temper, and I’m always able to suppress that when it is at its worst. You are not eating your meat, my dear lady.”
“Can you wonder at it, and you talk of cannibals?”
“Let us change the conversation to cereals,” suggested Hope, whose appetite was of the best – “wheat, for instance. In this queer little village I notice the houses are divided by a field of wheat. It seems wrong somehow for corn to be bunched up with houses.”
“That’s old Farmer Jenkins,” said Lucy vivaciously; “he owns three or four acres near the public-house and will not allow them to be built over, although he has been offered a lot of money. I noticed myself, Archie, the oddity of finding a cornfield surrounded by cottages. It’s like Alice in Wonderland.”
“But fancy any one offering money for land here,” observed Hope, toying with his claret glass, which had just been refilled, by the attentive Cockatoo, “at the Back-of-Beyond, as it were. I shouldn’t care to live here – the neighborhood is so desolate.”
“All the same you do live here!” interposed Mrs. Jasher smartly, and with a roguish glance at Lucy.
Archie caught the glance and saw the blush on Miss Kendal’s face.
“You have answered your question yourself, Mrs. Jasher,” he – said, smiling. “I have the inducement you hint at to remain here, and certainly, as a landscape painter, I admire the marshes and sunsets. As an artist and an engaged man I stop in Gartley, otherwise I should clear out. But I fail to see why a lady of your attractions should – ”
“I may have a sentimental reason also,” interrupted the widow, with a sly glance at the absent-minded Professor, who was drawing hieroglyphics on the table-cloth with a fork; “also, my cottage is cheap and very comfortable. The late Mr. Jasher did not leave me sufficient money to live in London. He was a consul in China, you know, and consuls are never very well paid. I will come in for a large income, however.”
“Indeed,” said Lucy politely, and wondering why Mrs. Jasher was so communicative. “Soon I hope.”
“It may be very soon. My brother, you know – a merchant in Pekin. He has come home to die, and is unmarried. When he does die, I shall go to London. But,” added the widow, meditatively and glancing again at the Professor, “I shall be sorry to leave dear Gartley. Still, the memory of happy hours spent in this house will always remain with me. Ah me! ah me!” and she put her handkerchief to her eyes.
Lucy telegraphed to Archie that the widow was a humbug, and Archie telegraphed back that he quite agreed with her. But the Professor, whom the momentary silence had brought back to the present century, looked up and asked Lucy if the dinner was finished.
“I have to do some work this evening,” said the Professor.
“Oh, father, when you said that you would take a holiday,” said Lucy reproachfully.
“I am doing so now. Look at the precious minutes I am wasting in eating, my dear. Life is short and much remains to be done in the way of Egyptian exploration. There is the sepulchre of Queen Tahoser. If I could only enter that,” and he sighed, while helping himself to cream.
“Why don’t you?” asked Mrs. Jasher, who was beginning to give up her pursuit of Braddock, for it was no use wooing a man whose interests centered entirely in Egyptian tombs.
“I have yet to discover it,” said the Professor simply; then, warming to the congenial theme, he glanced around and delivered a short historical lecture. “Tahoser was the chief wife and queen of a famous Pharaoh – the Pharaoh of the Exodus, in fact.”
“The one who was drowned in the Red Sea?” asked Archie idly.
“Why, yes – but that happened later. Before pursuing the Hebrews, – if the Mosaic account is to be believed, – this Pharaoh marched far into the interior of Africa, – the Libya of the ancients, – and conquered the natives of Upper Ethiopia. Being deeply in love with his queen, he took her with him on this expedition, and she died before the Pharaoh returned to Memphis. From records which I discovered in the museum of Cairo, I have reason to believe that the Pharaoh buried her with much pomp in Ethiopia, sacrificing, I believe, many prisoners at her gorgeous funeral rites. From the wealth of that Pharaoh – for wealthy he must have been on account of his numerous victories – and from the love he bore this princess, I am confident – confident,” added Braddock, striking the table vehemently, “that when discovered, her tomb will be filled with riches, and may also contain documents of incalculable value.”
“And you wish to get the money?” asked Mrs. Jasher, who was rather bored.
The Professor rose fiercely. “Money! I care nothing for money. I desire to obtain the funeral jewelry and golden masks, the precious images of the gods, so as to place them in the British Museum. And the scrolls of papyrus buried with the mummy of Tahoser may contain an account of Ethiopian civilization, about which we know nothing. Oh, that tomb, – that tomb!” Braddock began to walk the room, quite forgetting that he had not finished his dinner. “I know the mountains whose entrails were pierced to form the sepulchre. Were I able to go to Africa, I am certain that I should discover the tomb. Ah, with what glory would my name be covered, were I so fortunate!”
“Why don’t you go to Africa, sir, and try?” asked Hope.
“Fool!” cried the Professor politely. “To fit out an expedition would take some five thousand pounds, if not more. I would have to penetrate through a hostile country to reach the chain of mountains I speak of, where I know this precious tomb is to be found. I need supplies, an escort, guns, camels, and all the rest of it. A leader must be obtained to manage the fighting men necessary to pass through this dangerous zone. It is no easy task to find the tomb of Tahoser. And yet if I could – if I could only get the money,” and he walked up and down with his head bent on his breast.
Mrs. Jasher was used to Braddock’s vagaries by this time, and merely continued to fan herself placidly.
“I wish I could help you with the expedition,” she said quietly. “I should like to have some of that lovely Egyptian jewelry myself. But I am quite a pauper, until my brother dies, poor man. Then – ” She hesitated.
“What then?” asked Braddock, wheeling.
“I shall aid you with pleasure.”
“It’s a bargain!” Braddock stretched out his hand.
“A bargain,” said Mrs. Jasher, accepting the grasp somewhat nervously, for she had not expected to be taken so readily at her word. A glance at Lucy revealed her nervousness.
“Do sit down, father, and finish your dinner,” said that young lady. “I am sure you will have more than enough to do when the mummy arrives.”
“Mummy – what mummy?” murmured Braddock, again beginning to eat.
“The Inca mummy.”
“Of course. The mummy of Inca Caxas, which Sidney is bringing from Malta. When I strip that corpse of its green bandages I shall find – ”
“Find what?” asked Archie, seeing that the Professor hesitated.
Braddock cast a swift look at his questioner.
“I shall find the peculiar mode of Peruvian embalming,” he replied abruptly, and somehow the way in which he spoke gave Hope the impression that the answer was an excuse. But before he could formulate the thought that Braddock was concealing something, Mrs. Jasher spoke frivolously.
“I hope your mummy has jewels,” she said.
“It has not,” replied Braddock sharply. “So far as I know, the Inca race never buried their dead with jewels.”
“But I have read in Prescott’s History that they did,” said Hope.
“Prescott! Prescott!” cried the Professor contemptuously, “a most unreliable authority. However, I’ll promise you one thing, Hope, that if there are any jewels, or jewelry, you shall have the lot.”
“Give me some, Mr. Hope,” cried the widow.
“I cannot,” laughed Archie; “the green mummy belongs to the Professor.”
“I cannot accept such a gift, Hope. Owing to circumstances I have been obliged to borrow the money from you; otherwise the mummy would have been acquired by some one else. But when I find the tomb of Queen Tahoser, I shall repay the loan.”
“You have repaid it already,” said Hope, looking at Lucy.
Braddock’s eyes followed his gaze and his brows contracted. “Humph!” he muttered, “I don’t know if I am right in consenting to Lucy’s marriage with a pauper.”
“Oh, father!” cried the girl, “Archie is not a pauper.”
“I have enough for Lucy and me to live on,” said Hope, although his face had flushed, “and, had I been a pauper I could not have given you that thousand pounds.”
“You will be repaid – you will be repaid,” said Braddock, waving his hand to dismiss the subject. “And now,” he rose with a yawn, “if this tedious feast is at an end, I shall again seek my work.”
Without a word of apology to the disgusted Mrs. Jasher, he trotted to the door, and there paused.
“By the way, Lucy,” he said, turning, “I had a letter to-day from Random. He returns in his yacht to Pierside in two or three days. In fact, his arrival will coincide with that of The Diver.”
“I don’t see what his arrival has to do with me,” said Lucy tartly.
“Oh, nothing at all – nothing at all,” said Braddock airily, “only I thought – that is, but never mind, never mind. Cockatoo, come down with me. Good night! Good night!” and he disappeared.
“Well,” said Mrs. Jasher, drawing along breath, “for rudeness and selfishness, commend me to a scientist. We might be all mud, for what notice he takes of us.”
“Never mind,” said Miss Kendal, rising, “come to the drawing-room and have some music. Archie, will you stop here?”
“No. I don’t care to sit over my wine alone,” said that young gentleman, rising. “I shall accompany you and Mrs. Jasher. And Lucy,” he stopped her at the door, through which the widow had already passed, “what did your father mean by his hints concerning Random?”
“I think he regrets giving his consent to my marriage with you,” she whispered back. “Did you not hear him talk about that tomb? He desires to get money for the expedition.”
“From Random? What rubbish! Sooner than that – if our marriage is stopped by the beastly business – I’ll sell out and – ”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” interrupted the girl imperiously; “we must live if we marry. You have given my father enough.”
“But if Random lends money for this expedition?”
“He does so at his own risk. I am not going to marry Sir Frank because of my step-father’s requirements. He has no rights over me, and, whether he consents or not, I marry you.”
“My darling!” and Archie kissed her before they followed Mrs. Jasher into the drawing-room. All the same, he foresaw trouble.
CHAPTER IV. THE UNEXPECTED
For the next two or three days, Archie felt decidedly, worried over his projected marriage with Lucy. Certainly he had – to put it bluntly – purchased Braddock’s consent, and that gentleman could scarcely draw back from his plighted word, which had cost the lover so much. Nevertheless, Hope did not entirely, trust the Professor, as, from the few words which he had let drop at the dinner party, it was plain that he hankered after money with which to fit out the expedition in search of the mysterious tomb to which he had alluded. Archie knew, as did the Professor, that he could not supply the necessary five thousand pounds without practically ruining himself, and already he had crippled his resources in paying over the price of the green mummy. He had fondly believed that Braddock would have been satisfied with the relic of Peruvian humanity; but it seemed that the Professor, having got what he wanted, now clamored for what was at present beyond his reach. The mummy was his property, but he desired the contents of Queen Tahoser’s tomb also. This particular moon, which he cried for, was a very expensive article, and Hope did not see how he could gain it.
Unless – and here came in the cause of Archie’s worry – unless the five thousand pounds was borrowed from Sir Frank Random, the Professor would have to content himself with the Maltese mummy. But from what the young man had seen of Braddock’s longing for the especial sepulchre, which he desired to loot, he believed that the scientist would not readily surrender his whim. Random could easily lend or give the money, since he was extremely rich, and extremely generous, but it was improbable that he would aid Braddock without a quid pro quo. As the sole desire of the baronet’s heart was to make Lucy his wife, it could easily be guessed that he would only assist the Professor to realize his ambition on condition that the savant used his influence with his step-daughter. That meant the breaking of the engagement with Hope and the marriage of the girl to the soldier. Of course such a state of things would make Lucy unhappy; but Braddock cared very little for that. To gratify his craze for Egyptian research, he would be willing to sacrifice a dozen girls like Lucy.
Undoubtedly Lucy would refuse to be passed along from one man to another like a bale of goods, and Archie knew that, so far as in her lay, she would keep to her engagement, especially as she denied Braddock’s right to dispose of her hand. All the same, the Professor, in spite of his cherubical looks, could make himself extremely disagreeable, and undoubtedly would do so if thwarted. The sole course that remained, should Braddock begin operations to break the present engagement, would be to marry Lucy at once. Archie would willingly have done so, but pecuniary difficulties stood in the way. He had never told any one of these, not even the girl he loved, but they existed all the same. For many years he had been assisting needy relatives, and thus had hampered himself, in spite of his income. By sheer force of will, so as to force Braddock into giving him Lucy, he had contrived to secure the necessary thousand pounds, without confusing the arrangements he had made to pay off certain debts connected with his domestic philanthropy; but this brought him to the end of his resources. In six months he hoped to be free to have his income entirely to himself, and then – small as it was – he could support a wife. But until the half year elapsed he could see no chance of marrying Lucy with any degree of comfort, and meanwhile she would be exposed to the persecutions of the Professor. Perhaps persecutions is too harsh a word, as Braddock was kind enough to the girl. Nevertheless, he was pertinacious in gaining his aims where his pet hobby was concerned, and undoubtedly, could he see any chance of obtaining the money from Random by selling his step-daughter, he would do so. Assuredly it was dishonorable to act in this way, but the Professor was a scientific Jesuit, and deemed that the end justified the means, when any glory to himself and gain to the British Museum was in question.
“But I may be doing him an injustice,” said Archie, when he was explaining his fears to Miss Kendal on the third day after the dinner party. “After all, the Professor is a gentleman, and will probably hold to the bargain which he has made.”
“I don’t care whether he does or not,” cried Lucy, who had a fine color and a certain amount of fire in her eyes. “I am not going to be bought and sold to forward these nasty scientific schemes. My father can say what he likes and do what he likes, but I marry you – to-morrow if you like.”
“That’s just it,” said Archie, flushing, “we can’t marry.”
“Why?” she asked, much astonished.
Hope looked at the ground and drew patterns with his cane-point in the sand. They were seated in the hot sunshine – for the Indian summer still continued – under a moldering brick wall, which ran around the most delightful of kitchen gardens. This was situated at the back of the Pyramids, and contained a multiplicity of pot herbs and fruit trees and vegetables. It resembled the Fairy Garden in Madame D’Alnoy’s story of The White Cat, and in the autumn yielded a plentiful crop of fine-flavored fruit. But now the trees were bare and the garden looked somewhat forlorn for lack of greenery. But in spite of the lateness of the season, Lucy often brought a book to read under the glowing wall, and there ripened like a peach in the warm sunshine. On this occasion she brought Archie into the old-world garden, as he had hinted at confidences. And the time had come to speak plainly, as Hope began to think that he had not treated Lucy quite fairly in hiding from her his momentarily embarrassed position.
“Why can’t we marry at once?” asked Lucy, seeing that her lover held his peace and looked confused.
Hope did not reply directly. “I had better release you from your engagement,” he said haltingly.
“Oh!” Lucy’s nostrils dilated and she threw back her head scornfully. “And the other woman’s name?”
“There is no other woman. I love you and you only. But – money.”
“What about money? You have your income!”
“Oh yes – that is sure, small as it is. But I have incurred debts on behalf of an uncle and his family. These have embarrassed me for the moment, and so I cannot see my way to marrying you for at least six months, Lucy.” He caught her hand. “I feel ashamed of myself that I did not tell you of this before. But I feared to lose you. Yet, on reflection, I see that it is dishonorable to keep you in the dark, and if you think that I have behaved badly – ”
“Well, I do in a way,” she interrupted quickly, “as your silence was quite unnecessary. Don’t treat me as a doll, my dear. I wish to share your troubles as well as your joys. Come, tell me all about it.”
“You are not angry?”
“Yes, I am – at your thinking I loved you so little as to be biased against our marriage because of money troubles. Pooh!” she flicked away a speck of dust from his coat, “I don’t care that for such things.”
“You are an angel,” he cried ardently.
“I am a very practical girl just now,” she retorted. “Go on, confess!”
Archie, thus encouraged, did so, and it was a very mild confession that she heard, involving a great deal of unnecessary sacrifice in helping a pauper uncle. Hope strove to belittle his good deeds as much as possible, but Lucy saw plainly the good heart that had dictated the giving up of his small income for some years. When in possession of all the facts, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“You are a silly old boy,” she whispered. “As if what you tell me could make any difference to me!”
“But we can’t be married for six months, dearest.”
“Of course not. Do you believe that I as a woman can gather together my trousseau under six months? No, my dear. We must not marry in haste to repent at leisure. In another half year you will enjoy your own income, and then we can marry.”
“But meanwhile,” said Archie, after kissing her, “the Professor will bother you to marry Random.”
“Oh no. He has sold me to you for one thousand pounds. There! There, do not say a single word. I am only teasing you. Let us say that my father has consented to my marriage with you, and cannot withdraw his word. Not that I care if he does. I am my own mistress.”
“Lucy!” – he took her hands again and looked into her eyes – “Braddock is a scientific lunatic, and would do anything to forward his aims with regard to this very expensive tomb, which he has set his heart on discovering. As I can’t lend or give the money, he is sure to apply to Random, and Random – ”
“Will want to marry me,” cried Lucy, rising. “No, my dear, not at all. Sir Frank is a gentleman, and when he learns that I am engaged to you, he will simply become a dear friend. There, don’t worry any more about the matter. You ought to have told me of your troubles before, but as I have forgiven you, there is no more to be said. In six months I shall become Mrs. Hope, and meanwhile I can hold my own against any inconvenience that my father may cause me.”
“But – ” He rose and began to remonstrate, anxious to abase himself still further before this angel of a maiden.
She placed her hand over his mouth. “Not another word, or I shall box your ears, sir – that is, I shall exercise the privilege of a wife before I become one. And now,” she slipped her arm within his, “let us go in and see the arrival of the precious mummy.”
“Oh, it has arrived then.”
“Not here exactly. My father expects it at three o’clock.”
“It is now a quarter to,” said Archie, consulting his watch. “As I have been to London all yesterday I did not know that The Diver had arrived at Pierside, How is Bolton?”
Lucy wrinkled her brows. “I am rather worried over Sidney,” she said in an anxious voice, “and so is my father. He had not appeared.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” she looked at the ground in a pondering manner, “my father got a letter from Sidney yesterday afternoon, saying that the ship with the mummy and himself on board had arrived about four o’clock. The letter was sent on by special messenger and came at six.”
“Then it arrived in the evening and not in the afternoon?”
“How particular you are!” said Miss Kendal, with a shrug. “Well, then, Sidney said that he could not bring the mummy to this place last night as it was so late. He intended – so he told my father in the letter – to remove the case containing the mummy ashore to an inn near the wharf at Pierside, and there would remain the night so as to take care of it.”
“That’s all right,” said Hope, puzzled. “Where’s your difficulty?”
“A note came from the landlord of the inn this morning, saying that by direction of Mr. Bolton – that is Sidney, you know – he was sending the mummy in its case to Gartley on a lorry, and that it would arrive at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Well?” asked Hope, still puzzled.
“Well?” she rejoined impatiently. “Can’t you see show strange it is that Sidney should let the mummy out of his sight, after guarding it so carefully not only from Malta to England, but all the night in Pierside at that hotel? Why doesn’t he bring the mummy here himself, and come on with the lorry?”
“There is no explanation – no letter from Sidney Bolton?”
“None. He wrote yesterday, as I stated, saying that he would keep the case in the hotel, and send it on this morning.”
“Did he use the word `send,’ or the word `bring’?”
“He said ‘send.’”
“Then that shows he did not intend to bring it himself.”
“But why should he not do so?”
“I daresay he will explain when he appears.”
“I am very sorry for him when he does appear,” said Lucy seriously, “for my father is furious. Why, this precious mummy, for which so much has been paid, might have been lost.”
“Pooh! Who would steal a thing like that?”
“A thing like that is worth nearly one thousand pounds,” said Lucy in a dry tone, “and if anyone got wind of it, stealing would be easy, since Sidney, as appears likely, has sent on the case unguarded.”
“Well, let us go in and see if Sidney arrives with the case.”
They passed out of the garden and sauntered round to the front of the house. There, standing in the roadway, they beheld a ponderous lorry with a rough-looking driver standing at the horses’ heads. The front door of the house was open, so the mummy case had apparently arrived before its time, and had been taken to Braddock’s museum while they were chatting in the kitchen garden.
“Did Mr. Bolton come with the case?” asked Lucy, leaning over the railings and addressing the driver.
“No one came, miss, except myself and my two mates, who have taken the case indoor.” The driver jerked a coarse thumb over his shoulder.
“Was Mr. Bolton at the hotel, where the case remained for the night?”
“No, miss – that is, I dunno who Mr. Bolton is. The landlord of the Sailor’s Rest told me and my mates to take the case to this here house, and we done it. That’s all I know, miss.”
“Strange,” murmured Lucy, walking to the front door. “What do you think, Archie? Isn’t it strange?”
Hope nodded. “But I daresay Bolton will explain his absence,” said he, following her. “He will arrive in time to open the mummy case along with the Professor.”
“I hope so,” said Miss Kendal, who looked much perplexed. “I can’t understand Sidney abandoning the case, when it might so easily have been stolen. Come in and see my father, Archie,” and she passed into the house, followed by the young man, whose curiosity was now aroused. As they entered the door, the two men who had taken in the case blundered out and shortly drove away on the lorry towards Jessum railway station.
In the museum they found Braddock purple with rage and swearing vigorously. He was staring at a large packing case, which had been set up on end against the wall, while beside him crouched Cockatoo, holding chisels and hammers and wedges necessary to open the treasure trove.
“So the precious mummy has arrived, father,” said Lucy, who saw that the Professor was furious. “Are you not pleased?”
“Pleased! pleased!” shouted the angry man of science. “How can I be pleased when I see how badly the case has been treated? See how it has been bruised and battered and shaken! I’ll have an action against Captain Hervey of The Diver if my mummy has been injured. Sidney should have taken better care of so precious an object.”
“What does he say?” asked Archie, glancing round the museum to see if the delinquent had arrived.
“Say!” shouted Braddock again, and snatching a chisel from Cockatoo. “Oh, what can he say when he is not here?”
“Not here?” said Lucy, more and more surprised at the unaccountable absence of Braddock’s assistant. “Where is he, then?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did; I’d have him arrested for neglecting to watch over this case. As it is, when he comes back I’ll dismiss him from my employment. He can go back to his infernal laundry work along with his old witch of a mother.”
“But why hasn’t Bolton come back, sir?” asked Hope sharply.
Braddock struck a furious blow at the head of the chisel which he had inserted into the case.
“I want to know that. He brought the case to the Sailor’s Rest, and should have come on with it this morning. Instead of doing so, he tells the landlord – a most unreliable man – to send it on. And my precious mummy – the mummy that has cost nine hundred pounds,” cried Braddock, working furiously, and battering the chisel as though it were Bolton’s head, “is left to be stolen by any scientific thief that comes along.” While the Professor, assisted by Cockatoo, loosened the lid of the packing case, a mild voice was heard at the door. Lucy turned, as did Archie, to see Widow Anne curtseying on the threshold of the door.
Braddock himself took no notice of her entrance, being occupied with his task, and even while doing it swore scientifically under his breath. He was furious against Bolton for neglect of duty, and Hope rather sympathized with him. It was a serious matter to have left a valuable object like the green mummy to the rough care of laborers.