Of all the surprises in connection with the tragedy of the green mummy, this was surely the greatest. Sidney Bolton had been murdered for the sake of the emeralds, and the assassin had escaped with the spoil, for which he had sold his soul. Yet here was one of the jewels returned to , who could pass on the same to its rightful owner. In the midst of his Sir Frank could not help when he thought how Professor Braddock would be at Don Pedro's good fortune. At the eleventh hour, as it were, the Peruvian had got back his own, or at least a portion of his own.
Placing the emerald in his drawer, Random gave orders to his servant that the , when off duty, should be brought before him. Just as Random finished for mess—and he dressed very early, so as to devote his entire attention to solving this new problem—the soldier who had been on guard appeared. But he could tell nothing more than he had already related. When doing sentry-go immediately outside the gate of the Fort, the packet had been slipped into the box, while the man was at the far end of his beat. It was quite dark when this was done, and the soldier confessed that he had not heard a sound, much less had he seen anyone. The person who had brought the glorious had watched his opportunity, and, soft-footed as a cat, had stolen forward in the darkness to drop the precious parcel on the floor of the sentry box. There the man had found it by the feel of his feet, when he stepped in some time later to escape a shower. But what time had elapsed from the placing of the parcel to its discovery by the sentry it was impossible to say. It must, however, as Random calculated, have been within the hour, since, before then, it would not have been dark enough to hide the approach of the person, whether male or female, who carried a king's in the brown paper parcel.
At first Random was inclined to place the sentry under arrest for having failed so much in his duty as to allow anyone to approach so near the Fort; but, as he had already reprimanded the man, and, moreover, wished to keep the fact of the recovered jewel quiet, he simply dismissed him. When alone, he sat down before the fire, wondering who could have dared so very greatly, and for what reason the emerald had been handed to him. If it had been sent to Don Pedro, or even to Professor Braddock, it would have been much more reasonable.
It first occurred to him that Mrs. Jasher, out of for the way in which he had treated her, had sent him the jewel. Remembering his former experience, he the parcel, but could detect no sign of the famous Chinese which had proved a clue to the letter. Of course the direction on the packet and the slip of paper were in handwriting, so he could gather nothing from that. Still, he did not think that Mrs. Jasher had sent the emerald. She was hard up, and if she had become of the gem by murder—presuming her to have been the woman who talked to Bolton through the window—she assuredly would have sold it to supply her own needs. Certainly, if guilty, she would still possess the other emerald, of equal value; but undoubtedly, had she risked her neck to gain a fortune, she would have kept the entire which was likely to cost her so dear. No; whomsoever it was who had at the eleventh hour, Mrs. Jasher was not the person.
Perhaps Widow Anne was the woman who had talked through the window, and who had restored the emerald. But that was impossible, since Mrs. Bolton took more liquor than was good for her, and would not have the nerve to deliver the jewel, much less commit the crime, the more especially as the victim was her own son. Of course she might have found out Sidney's scheme to run away with the jewels, and so would have claimed her share. But if she had been in Pierside on that evening—and her presence in Gartley had been sworn to by three or four cronies—she would have guessed who had strangled her boy. If so, not all the jewels in the world would have prevented her denouncing the criminal. With all her faults—and they were many—Mrs. Bolton was a good mother, and looked upon Sidney as the pride and joy of her somewhat dissipated life. Mrs. Bolton was certainly as innocent as Mrs. Jasher.
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 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 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 to have my chop at my . 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 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 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 green flames in the lamplight. “Oh, gosh!” 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 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 wh............