Lucy and Mrs. Jasher were having a conversation in the small pink drawing-room. True to her promise, Miss Kendal had come to readjust matters between the little Professor and the widow. But it was not an easy task, as Mrs. Jasher was righteously indignant at the rash words used to her.  
“As if I knew anything about the matter,” she repeated again and again in angry tones. “Why, my dear, he as good as told me I had murdered—”
 
Lucy did not let her finish.
 
“There! there!” she said, speaking as she would have done to a fretful child, “you know what my father is.”
 
“It seems to me that I am just beginning to learn,” said the widow bitterly, “and knowing how ready he is to believe ill of me, I think it is better we should part for ever.”
 
“But you'll never be Lady Braddock.”
 
“Even if I married him, I am not sure that I should be, since I learn that his brother is singularly healthy and comes of a long-lived family. And it will not be pleasant to live with your father when he has such a temper.”
 
“That was only because he was excited. Think of your , and of the position you wish to hold in, London.”
 
“Ah, well,” said Mrs. Jasher, visibly , “there is something to be said there. After all, one can never find a man who is perfection. And a very man is usually a fool. One can't expect a rose to be without thorns. But really, my dear,” she surveyed Lucy with mild surprise, “you appear to be very anxious that I should marry your father.”
 
“I want to see my father made comfortable before I marry Archie,” said the girl with a blush. “Of course my father is quite a child in household affairs and needs everything done for him. Archie—I am glad to say—is now in a position to marry me in the spring. I want you to be married about the same time, and then you can live in Gartley, and—”
 
“No, my dear,” said Mrs. Jasher firmly, “if I marry your father, he wishes us to go at once to Egypt in search of this tomb.”
 
“I know that he wants you to help with the money left to you by your late brother. But surely you will not go up the Nile yourself?”
 
“No, certainly not,” said the widow . “I shall remain in Cairo while the Professor goes on his excursion into Ethiopia. I know that Cairo is a very charming place, and that I shall be able to enjoy myself there.”
 
“Then you have to forgive my father for his rash words?”
 
“I must,” sighed Mrs. Jasher. “I am so tired of being an unprotected widow without a recognized position in the world. Even with my brother's money,—not that it is so very much—I shall still be looked upon askance if I go into society. But as Mrs. Braddock, or Lady Braddock, no one will dare to say a word against me. Yes, my dear, if your father comes and, asks my pardon he shall have it. We women are so weak,” ended the widow , as if she was not making a of necessity.
 
Things being thus settled, the two talked on for some time, and discussed the chances of marrying Donna Inez. Both acknowledged that the Peruvian lady was handsome enough, but had not a word to say for herself.
 
While thus , Professor Braddock into the room, looking brisk and bright from his stroll in the cold frosty air. Gifted as he was with scientific assurance, the little man was not at all taken aback by the cold reception of Mrs. Jasher, but rubbed his hands cheerfully.
 
“Ah, there you are, Selina,” said he, looking like a bright-eyed . “I hope you are feeling well.”
 
“How can you expect me to feel well after what you said?” remarked Mrs. Jasher reproachfully, and anxious to make a virtue of forgiveness.
 
“Oh, I beg pardon: I beg pardon. Surely, Selina, you are not going to make a fuss over a trifle like that?”
 
“I did not give you permission to call me Selina.”
 
“Quite so. But as we are to be married, I may as well get used to your name, my dear.”
 
“I am not so sure that we will be married,” said Mrs. Jasher stiffly.
 
“Oh, but we must,” cried Braddock in dismay. “I am depending upon your money to finance my expedition to Queen Tahoser's tomb.”
 
“I see,” observed the widow coldly, while Lucy sat quietly by and allowed the elder woman to conduct the campaign, “you want me for my money. There is no love in the question.”
 
“My dear, as soon as I have the time—say during our voyage to Cairo, whence we start inland up the Nile for Ethiopia—I shall make love whenever you like. And, confound it, Selina, I admire you no end—to use a slang phrase. You are a fine woman and a sensible woman, and I am afraid that you are throwing yourself away on a snuffy old man like myself.”
 
“Oh no! no! Pray do not say that,” cried Mrs. Jasher, visibly moved by this flattery. “You will make a very good husband if you will only strive to govern your temper.”
 
“Temper! temper! Bless the woman—I mean you, Selina—I have the very best temper in the world. However, you shall govern it and myself also if you like. Come,” he took her hand, “let us be friends and fix the wedding day.”
 
Mrs. Jasher did not withdraw her hand.
 
“Then you do not believe that I have anything to do with this terrible murder?” she asked playfully.
 
“No! no! I was heated last night. I rashly and hastily. Forgive and forget, Selina. You are innocent—quite innocent, in spite of the mummy being in your confounded garden. After all, the evidence is stronger against Random than against you. Perhaps he put it there: it's on his way to the Fort, you see. Never mind. He has himself, and no doubt, when confronted with Hervey, will be able to silence that blackguard. And I am quite sure that Hervey is a blackguard,” ended Braddock, rubbing his bald head.
 
The two ladies looked at one another in , not knowing what to say. They were ignorant of the theft of the emeralds and of the of Sir Frank by the Yankee skipper. But, with his usual absentmindedness, Braddock had forgotten all about that, and sat in his chair rubbing his head quite pink and on cheerfully.
 
“I went down with Hope to the embankment,” he continued, “but neither of us could see any sign of a boat. There's the rude, short jetty, of course, and if a boat came, a boat could go away without leaving any trace. Perhaps that is so. However, we must wait until we see Don Pedro and Hervey again, and then—”
 
Lucy broke in .
 
“What are you talking about, father? Why do you bring in Sir Frank's name in that way?”
 
“What do you expect me to say?” retorted the little man. “After all, the manuscript was found in his room, and the emeralds are gone. I saw that for myself, as did Hope and Don Pedro, in whose presence I opened the mummy case.”
 
Mrs. Jasher rose in her .
 
“Are the emeralds gone?” she .
 
“Yes! yes! yes!” cried Braddock . “Am I not telling you so? I almost believe in Hervey's accusation of Random, and yet the boy exonerated himself very forcibly—very forcibly indeed.”
 
“Will you explain all that has happened, father?” said Lucy, who was becoming more and more by this . “We are quite in the dark.”
 
“So am I: so is Hope: so is every one,” Braddock. “Ah, yes: of course, you were not present when these events took place.”
 
“What events?—what events?” demanded Mrs. Jasher, now quite .
 
“I am about to tell you,” snapped her future husband, and related all that had taken place since the arrival of Captain Hervey in the museum at the Pyramids. The women listened with interest and with growing astonishment, only interrupting the narrator with a simultaneous of indignation when they heard that Sir Frank was accused.
 
“It is and wholly absurd,” cried Lucy angrily. “Sir Frank is the soul of honor.”
 
“So I think, my dear,” chimed in Mrs. Jasher. “And what does he say to—?”
 
Braddock interrupted.
 
“I am about to tell you, if you will stop talking,” he cried crossly. “That is so like a woman. She asks for an explanation and then prevents the man from giving it. Random offers a very good , I am bound to say,” and he what Sir Frank had said.
 
When the history was finished, Lucy rose to go.
 
“I shall see Archie at once,” she said, moving hastily, towards the door.
 
“What for?” demanded her father .
 
Lucy turned.
 
“This thing can't go on,” she declared . “Mrs. Jasher was accused by you, father—”
 
“Only in a heated moment,” cried the Professor, excusing himself.
 
“Never mind, she was accused,” retorted Lucy stubbornly, “and now this sailor accuses Sir Frank. Who knows who will be charged next with committing the crime? I shall ask Archie to take the matter up, and hunt down the real criminal. Until the guilty person is found, I foresee that we shall never have a moment's peace.”
 
“I quite agree with you,” said Mrs. Jasher earnestly. “For my own sake I wish the matter of this mystery to be cleared up. Why don't you help me?” she added, turning to Braddock, who listened .
 
“I am helping,” said Braddock quietly. “I intend to set Cockatoo on the trail at once. He shall take up his in the Sailor's............