"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 Christian 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 spoke 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 exonerated 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 amazement, not knowing what to say. They were ignorant of the theft of the emeralds and of the accusation 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 rattling 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 desperately.

"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 ma.n.u.script 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 astonishment.

"Are the emeralds gone?" she gasped.

"Yes! yes! yes!" cried Braddock irritably. "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 perplexed by this rambling chatter. "We are quite in the dark."

"So am I: so is Hope: so is every one," chuckled Braddock. "Ah, yes: of course, you were not present when these events took place."

"What events?--what events?" demanded Mrs. Jasher, now quite exasperated.

"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 exclamation of indignation when they heard that Sir Frank was accused.

"It is utterly 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 defense, I am bound to say," and he detailed 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 benignly.

Lucy turned.

"This thing can't go on," she declared resolutely. "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 placidly.

"I am helping," said Braddock quietly. "I intend to set c.o.c.katoo on the trail at once. He shall take up his abode in the Sailor's Rest on some pretext, and no doubt will be able to find a clue."

"What?" cried the widow incredulously, "a savage like that?"

"c.o.c.katoo is much cleverer than the average white man," said Braddock dryly, "especially in following a trail. He, if any one, will learn the truth. I would much rather trust the Kanaka than young Hope."

"Nonsense!" cried Lucy, standing up for her lover. "Archie is the one to discover the a.s.sa.s.sin. I'll see him at once. And you, father?"

"I, my dear," said the Professor calmly, "shall remain here and make my peace with the future Mrs. Braddock."

"You have made it already," said the widow graciously, and extended her hand, which the Professor kissed unexpectedly, and then sat back in his chair, looking quite abashed at his outburst of gallantry.

Seeing that everything was going well, Lucy left the elderly couple to continue their courting, and hurried to Archie's lodgings in the village. However, he happened to be out, and his landlady did not know when he would return. Rather annoyed by this, since she greatly desired to unbosom herself, Miss Kendal walked disconsolately towards the Pyramids. On the way she was stopped by Widow Anne, looking more dismal and funereal than ever, and garrulous with copious draughts of gin. Not that she was intoxicated, but her tongue was loose, and she wept freely for no apparent reason. According to herself, she had stopped Lucy to demand back from Mr. Hope through the girl certain articles of attire which had been borrowed for artistic purposes. These, consisting of a shawl and a skirt and a bodice, were of extraordinary value, and Mrs.

Bolton wanted them back or their equivalent in value. She mentioned that she would prefer the sum of five pounds.

"Why do you not ask Mr. Hope yourself?" said Lucy who was too impatient to bear with the old creature's maunderings. "If you gave him the things he will no doubt return them."

"If they aren't spiled with paint," wailed Widow Anne. "He told my Sid as he wanted them for a model to wear while being painted. Sid asked me, and I gave 'em to Sid, and Sid, he pa.s.sed 'em along to your good gentleman. There was a skirt, as good as new, and a body of the dress trimmest beautiful, and a tartan shawl as I got from my mother. But no,"

the old woman corrected herself, "it was a dark shawl with red spots and--"

"Ask Mr. Hope, ask Mr. Hope," cried Miss Kendal impatiently. "I know nothing about the things," and she tore her dress from Widow Anne's detaining hand to hurry home. Mrs. Bolton wailed aloud at this desertion, and took her way to Hope's lodgings, where she declared her determination to remain until the artist restored her apparel.

Lucy for the moment thought little of this interview; but on reflection she thought it strange that Archie should borrow clothes from Mrs.

Bolton through Sidney. Not that there was anything strange in Archie's procuring such garments, since he may have wanted them to clothe a model with. But he could easily have got such things from his landlady, or, if from Widow Anne, could have borrowed them direct without appealing to Sidney. Why, then, had the dead man acted as an intermediate party? This question was hard to answer, yet Lucy greatly wished for a reply, since she suddenly remembered how a woman in a dark dress and with a dark shawl over her head had been seen by Eliza Flight, the housemaid of the Sailor's Rest, talking to Bolton through the window. Were the garments borrowed as a disguise, and did the person who had borrowed them desire that it should be supposed that Widow Anne was talking to her son? There was a chill hand clutching Lucy's heart as she went home, for the words of Mrs. Bolton seemed indirectly to implicate Hope in the mystery. She determined to ask him about the matter straight out, when he came in that night to pay his usual visit.

At dinner the Professor was in excellent spirits, and actually became so human as to compliment Lucy on her housekeeping. He also mentioned that he hoped Mrs. Jasher would cater as excellently. Over coffee he informed his step-daughter that he had entirely won the widow's heart by abasing himself at her feet and withdrawing the accusation. They had arranged to be married in May, one or two weeks after Lucy became Mrs. Hope. In the autumn they would start for Egypt, and would remain abroad for a year or more.