Hervey ruminated.

"I can't think," he mused. "I found a screed of Latin along with the mummy, when I looted it from your Lima house, but it dropped out of my mind as to what became of it. Maybe I pa.s.sed it along to the Paris man, and he sold it along with the corpse to the Maltese gent."

"But I tell you this copy was found in Sir Frank's room," insisted De Gayangos. "How did it come to be there?"

Captain Hervey rose and took a turn up and down the room. When c.o.c.katoo came in his way he calmly kicked him aside.

"What do you think, Mr. Hope?" he asked, coming to a full stop before Archie, while c.o.c.katoo crept away with a very dark scowl.

"I don't know what to think," replied that young gentleman promptly, "save that Sir Frank is my very good friend, and that I take his word that he knows nothing of how the ma.n.u.script came to be hidden in his bookcase."

"Huh!" said Hervey scornfully, and took another turn up and down the room in silence. "I surmise that your friend isn't a white man."

Hope leaped to his feet.

"That's a lie," he said distinctly.

"I'd have shot you for that down Chili way," snapped the skipper.

"Possibly," retorted the artist dryly, "but I happen to be handy with my revolver also. I say again that you lie. Random is not the man to commit so foul a crime."

"Then how did the ma.n.u.script get into his room?" questioned Hervey.

"He is trying to learn, and, when he does, will come here to let us all know, Captain Hervey. But I ask you on what grounds you accuse him? Oh I know all you said to-day," added Hope scornfully, waving his hand; "but you can't prove that Random got the ma.n.u.script."

"If it's in his room, as you acknowledge, I can," said Hervey, speaking in a much more cultivated tone. "See here. As I said before, that copy must have been pa.s.sed along with the corpse to the Maltese man. Well, then, the Professor here bought the corpse, and with it the ma.n.u.script."

"No," contradicted the little man, prodigiously excited. "Bolton wrote to me full particulars of the mummy, but said nothing about any ma.n.u.script."

"Well, he wouldn't," replied Hervey calmly, "seeing that he'd know Latin."

"He did know Latin," admitted Braddock uneasily; "I taught him myself.

But do you mean to say that he got that ma.n.u.script and read it and intended to keep the fact of the emeralds secret?"

Hervey nodded three times, and twisted his cheroot in his mouth.

"How else can you figure the business out?" he demanded quietly, and with his eyes fixed on the excited Professor. "Bolton must have got that ma.n.u.script, as I can't remember what I did with it, save pa.s.s it along with the corpse. He--as you admit--doesn't tell you about it when he writes. Well, then, I reckon he calculated getting this corpse to England, and intended to steal the emeralds when safely ash.o.r.e."

"But he could have done that on the boat," said Archie quickly.

"I guess not, with me about," said Hervey coolly. "I'd have spotted his game and would have howled for shares."

"You dare to say that?" demanded De Gayangos fiercely.

"Keep your hair on. I dare to say anything that comes up my darned back, you bet. I'm not going to knuckle down to a yellow-stomach--"

Out flew Don Pedro's long arm, and Hervey slammed against the wall. He slipped his hand around to his hip pocket with an ugly smile, but before he could use the revolver he produced, Hope dashed up his arm, and the ball went through the ceiling. "Lucy!" cried the young man, knowing that the drawing-room was overhead, and in a moment was out of the door, racing up the stairs at top speed. Some sense of shame seemed to overpower Hervey as he thought that he might have shot the girl, and he replaced the revolver in his pocket with a shrug.

"I climb down and apologize," he said to Don Pedro, who bowed gravely.

"Hang you, sir; you might have shot my daughter," cried Braddock. "The drawing-room, where she is sitting, is right overhead, and-"

As he spoke the door opened, and Lucy came in on Archie's arm. She was pale with fright, but had sustained no damage. It seemed that the revolver bullet had pa.s.sed through the floor some distance away from where she was sitting.

"I offer my humble apologies, miss," said the cowed Hervey.

"I'll break your neck, you ruffian!" growled Hope, who looked, and was, dangerous. "How dare you shoot here and--"

"It's all right," interposed Lucy, not wishing for further trouble. "I am all safe. But I shall remain here for the rest of your interview, Captain Hervey, as I am sure you will not shoot again in the presence of a lady."

"No, miss," muttered the captain, and when again invited by the angry Professor to speak, resumed his discourse in low tones. "Wal, as I was saying," he remarked, sitting down with a dogged look, "Bolton intended to clear with the emeralds, but I guess Sir Frank got ahead of him and packed him in that blamed case, while he annexed the emeralds. He then took the ma.n.u.script, which he looted from Bolton's corpse, and hid it among his books, as you say, while he left the blamed mummy in the garden of the old lady you talked about. I guess that's what I say."

"It's all theory," said Don Pedro in vexed tones.

"And there isn't a word of truth in it," said Lucy indignantly, standing up for Frank Random.

"It ain't for me to contradict you, miss," said Hervey, who was still humble, "but I ask you, if what I say ain't true, how did that copy of the ma.n.u.script come to be in that aristocrat's room?"

There was no reply made to this, and although every one present, save Hervey, believed in Random's innocence, no one could explain. The reply came after some further conversation, by the appearance of the soldier himself in mess kit. He walked unexpectedly into the room with Donna Inez on his arm, and at once apologized to De Gayangos.

"I called to see you at the inn, sir," he said, "and as you were not there, I brought your daughter along with me to explain about the ma.n.u.script."

"Ah, yes. We talk of that now. How did it come into your room, sir?"

Random pointed to Hervey.

"That rascal placed it there," he said firmly.

CHAPTER XX. THE LETTER

At this second insult Archie quite expected to see the skipper again draw his revolver and shoot. He therefore jumped up rapidly to once more avert disaster. But perhaps the fiery American was awed by the presence of a second lady--since men of the adventurous type are often shy when the fair s.e.x is at hand--for he meekly sat where he was and did not even contradict. Don Pedro shook hands with Sir Frank, and then Hervey smiled blandly.

"I see you don't believe in my theory," said he scoffingly.

"What theory is that?" asked Random hastily.

"Hervey declares that you murdered Bolton, stole the ma.n.u.script from him, and concealed it in your room," said Archie succinctly.

"I can't suggest any other reason for its presence in the room,"

observed the American with a grim smile. "If I'm wrong, perhaps this almighty aristocrat will correct me."

Random was about to do so, and with some pardonable heat, when he was antic.i.p.ated by Donna Inez. It has been mentioned before that this young lady was of the silent order. Usually she simply ornamented any company in which she found herself without troubling to entertain with her tongue. But the accusation against the baronet, whom she apparently loved, changed her into a voluble virago. Brushing aside the little Professor, who stood in her way, she launched herself forward and spoke at length. Hervey, cowering in the chair, thus met with an antagonist against whom he had no armor. He could not use force; she dominated him with her eye and when he ventured to open his mouth his few feeble words were speedily drowned by the torrent of speech which flowed from the lips of the Peruvian lady. Every one was as astonished by this outburst as though a dog had spoken. That the hitherto silent Donna Inez de Gayangos should speak thus freely and with such power was quite as great a miracle.

"You--are a dog and a liar," said Donna Inez with great distinctness, and speaking English excellently. "What you say against Sir Frank is madness and foolish talk. In Genoa my father did not speak of the ma.n.u.script, nor did I, who tell you this. How, then, could Sir Frank kill this poor man, when he had no reason to slay him--"