CHAPTER XXV. THE MILLS OF GOD

In the cold gray hours of the morning, Hope and his friend left the

cottage wherein such a tragedy had taken place. The dead woman was lying

stiff and white on her bed under a winding sheet, which had already been

strewn with many-hued chrysanthemums taken from the pink parlor by the

weeping Jane. The wretched woman who had led so stormy and unhappy a

life had at least one sincere mourner, for she had always been kind to

the servant, who formed her entire domestic staff, and Jane would not

hear a word said against the dead. Not that anyone did say anything; for

Random and Hope kept the contents of the confession to themselves. There

would be time enough for Mrs. Jasher's reputation to be smirched when

those same contents were made public.

When the poor woman died, Random left the doctor and the servant to look

after the corpse, and went into the parlor. Here he met Hope with the

confession in his hand. Luckily, Painter was not in the room at the

moment, else he would have prevented the artist from taking away the

same. Hope--as directed by Mrs. Jasher--had found the confession,

written on many sheets, lying on the desk. It broke off abruptly towards

the end, and was not signed. Apparently at this point Mrs. Jasher had

been interrupted--as she had said--by the tapping of Cockatoo at the

window. Probably she had admitted him at once, and on her refusal to

give him the emerald, and on her confessing what she had written, he had

overturned the lights for the purpose of murdering her. Only too well

had the Kanaka succeeded in his wickedness.

Archie slipped the confession into his pocket before the policeman

returned, and then left the cottage with Random and the doctor, since

nothing else could now be done. It was between seven and eight, and the

chilly dawn was breaking, but the sea-mist still lay heavily over the

marshes, as though it were the winding sheet of the dead. Robinson went

to his own house to get his trap and drive into Jessum, there to catch

the train and ferry to Pierside. It was necessary that Inspector Date

should be informed of this new tragedy without delay, and as Constable

Painter was engaged in watching the cottage, there was no messenger

available but Dr. Robinson. Random indeed offered to send a soldier,

or to afford Robinson the use of the Fort telephone, but the doctor

preferred to see Date personally, so as to detail exactly what had

happened. Perhaps the young medical man had an eye to becoming better

known, for the improvement of his practice; but he certainly seemed

anxious to take a prominent part in the proceedings connected with the

murder of Mrs. Jasher.

When Robinson parted from them, Random and Hope went to the lodgings of

the latter, so as to read over the confession and learn exactly to what

extent Mrs. Jasher had been mixed up in the tragedy of the green mummy.

She had declared herself innocent even on her death-bed, and so far

as the two could judge at this point, she certainly had not actually

strangled Sidney Bolton. But it might be--and it appeared to be more

than probable--that she was an accessory after the fact. But this they

could learn from the confession, and they sat in Hope's quiet little

sitting-room, in which the fire had been just lighted by the artist's

landlady, with the scattered sheets neatly ranged before them.

“Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee, or a whisky and soda,”

suggested Archie, “before starting to read?”

“I should,” assented Random, who looked weary and pale. “The events of

the night have somewhat knocked me up. Coffee for choice--nice, black,

strong, hot coffee.”

Hope nodded and went to order the same. When he returned he sat down,

after closing the door carefully, and proceeded to read. But before he

could speak Random raised his hand.

“Let us chat until the coffee comes in,” he said; “then we shall not be

interrupted when reading.”

“All right,” said Hope. “Have a cigar!”

“No, thanks. I have been smoking all the night. I shall sit here by the

fire and wait for the coffee. You look chippy yourself.”

“And small wonder,” said Archie wearily. “We little thought when we left

the Fort last night what a time we were going to have. Fancy Mrs. Jasher

having sent you the emerald after all!”

“Yes. She repented, as she said, and yet I dare say--as she also

said--she was sorry that she acted on her impulse. If she had not been

stabbed by that damned Cockatoo, she would no doubt have destroyed that

confession. I expect she wrote that also on the impulse of the moment.”

“She confessed as much,” said Hope, leaning his head on his hand and

staring into the fire. “She must have been cognizant of the truth all

along. I wonder if she was an accessory before or after the fact?”

“What I wonder,” said Random, after a moment's thought, “is, what

Braddock has to do with the matter?”

Hope raised his head in surprise.

“Why, nothing. Mrs. Jasher did not say a word against Braddock.”

“I know that. All the same, Cockatoo was completely under the thumb of

the Professor, and probably was instructed by him to strangle Bolton.”

“That is impossible,” cried the artist, much agitated. “Think of what

you are saying, Random. What a terrible thing it would be for Lucy if

the Professor were guilty in such a way as you suggest!”

“Really, I fail to see that. Miss Kendal is no relation to Braddock save

by marriage. His iniquities have nothing to do with her, or with you.”

“But it's impossible, I tell you, Random. Throughout the whole of this

case Braddock has acted in a perfectly innocent way.”

“That's just it,” said Sir Frank caustically; “he has acted. In spite

of his pretended grief for the loss of the emeralds, I should not be

surprised to learn from that,” he nodded towards the confession on the

table, “that he was in possession of the missing gem. Cockatoo had no

reason to steal the emeralds himself, setting aside the fact that he

probably would not know their value, being but a semi-civilized savage.

He acted under orders from his master, and although Cockatoo strangled

Bolton, the Professor is really the author and the gainer and the moving

spirit.”

“You would make Braddock an accessory before the fact.”

“Yes, and Mrs. Jasher an accessory after the fact. Cockatoo is the link,

as the actual criminal, who joins the two in a guilty partnership. No

wonder Braddock intended to make that woman his wife even though he

did not love her, for she knew a jolly sight too much for his peace of

mind.”

“This is horrible,” murmured Hope desperately; “but it is mere theory.

We cannot be sure until we read the confession.”

“We'll be sure soon, then, for here comes the coffee.”

This last remark Random made when a timid knock came to the door, and a

moment later the landlady entered with a tray bearing cups, saucers, and

a jug of steaming coffee. She was a meek, reticent woman who entered and

departed in dismal silence, and in a few moments the two young men were

quite alone with the door closed. They drank a cup of coffee each, and

then Hope proceeded to read the confession.

The story told by Mrs. Jasher commenced with a short account of her

early life. It appeared that her father was a ruined gentleman and a

gambler, and that her mother had been an actress. She was dragged up in

a Bohemian sort of way until she attained a marriageable age, when her

mother, who seemed to have been both wicked and hard-hearted, forced

her to marry a comparatively wealthy man called Jasher. The elderly

husband--for Jasher was not young--treated his wife very badly, and,

infected with the spirit of gambling by her father, lost all his money.

Mrs. Jasher then went with him to America and performed on the stage in

order to keep the home together. She had one child, but it died, much

to her grief, yet also much to her relief, as she was so miserable and

poor. Mrs. Jasher gave a scanty account of sordid years of trouble

and trial, of failure and sorrow. She and her husband roamed all over

America, and then went to Australia and New Zealand, where they lived

a wretched existence for many years. Finally the husband died of strong

drink at an advanced age, leaving Mrs. Jasher a somewhat elderly widow.

The poor woman again took to the stage and tried to earn her bread,

but was unsuccessful. Afterwards she lectured. Then she kept a boarding

establishment, and finally went out as a nurse. In every way, it would

seem, she tried to keep her head above water, and roamed the world like

a bird of passage, finding rest nowhere for the sole of her foot. Yet

throughout her story both the young men could see that she had always

aspired to a quiet and decent, respectable existence, and that only

force of circumstances had flung her into the whirlpool of life.

“As I said,” remarked Random at this stage, “the miserable creature was

more sinned against than sinning.”

“Her moral sense seemed to have become blunted, however,” said Archie

doubtfully.

“And small wonder, amidst such surroundings; but it seems to me that she

was much better under the circumstances than many another woman would

have been. Go on.”

In Melbourne Mrs. Jasher made a lucky speculation in mines, which

brought her one thousand pounds. With this she came to England, and

resolved to make a bid for respectability. Chance led her into the

neighborhood of Gartley, and thinking that if she set up her tent in

this locality she might manage to marry an officer from the Fort--since

amidst such dismal surroundings a young man might be the more easily

fascinated by a woman of the world--she took the cottage amidst the

marshes at a small rent. Here she hoped to eke out what money she had

left--a few hundreds--until the coveted marriage should take place.

Afterwards she met Professor Braddock and determined to marry him, as

a man more easy to manage. She was successful in enlisting Lucy on her

side, and until the green mummy brought its bad luck to the Pyramids

everything went capitally.

It was in connection with the name of Bolton that the first mention was

made of the green mummy. Sidney was a clever young man, although

very lowly born, and having been taken up by Professor Braddock as

an assistant, could hope some day to make a position. Braddock was

educating him, although he paid him very little in the way of wages.

Sidney fell in love with Mrs. Jasher, and in some way--she did not

mention how--gained her confidence. Perhaps the lonely woman was glad

to have a sympathetic friend. At all events she told her past history

to Sidney, and mentioned that she desired to marry Braddock. But Sidney

insisted that she should marry him, and promised to make enough money

to satisfy her that he was a good match, setting aside his humble birth,

for which Mrs. Jasher cared nothing.

It was then that Sidney related what he had discovered. Braddock, when

in Peru many years before, had tried to get mummies for some scientific

reason. When Hervey--then known as Vasa--promised to procure him the

mummy of the last Inca, Braddock was extremely pleased. Hervey stole the

mummy and also the copy of the manuscript which was written in Latin.

He sent this latter to Braddock--who was then at Cuzco--as an earnest of

his success in procuring the mummy, and when the Professor returned

to Lima the mummy was to be handed to him. Unfortunately, Braddock

was carried into captivity for one year, and when he escaped Vasa had

disappeared with the mummy. As the Professor had deciphered the Latin

manuscript, he knew of the emeralds, and for years had been hunting for

the mummy--sure to be recognized from its peculiar green color--in order

to get the jewels, and thus secure money for his Egyptian expedition.

All through, it seems, the Professor was actuated by purely scientific

enthusiasm, as in the abstract he cared very little for hard cash.

Bolton told Mrs. Jasher that Braddock explained how much he desired to

get the mummy, but he did not mention about the jewels. For a long time

Sidney was under the impression that his master merely wanted the

mummy to see the difference between the Egyptian and Peruvian modes of

embalming.

Then one day Sidney chanced on the Latin manuscript, and learned that

Braddock's real reason for getting the mummy was to procure the emeralds

which were held in the grip of the dead. Sidney kept this knowledge to

himself, and Braddock never guessed that his assistant knew the truth.

Then unexpectedly Braddock stumbled across the advertisement describing

the green mummy for sale in Malta. From the color he made sure that it

was that of Inca Caxas, and so moved heaven and earth to get money

to buy it. At length he did, from Archie Hope, on condition that he

consented to the marriage of his step-daughter with the young man.

Thinking that Sidney was ignorant of the jewels, he sent him to bring

the mummy home.

Sidney told Mrs. Jasher that he would try and steal the jewels in Malta

or on board the tramp steamer. Failing that, he would delay the delivery

of the mummy to Braddock on some excuse and rob it at Pierside. To make

sure of escaping, he borrowed a disguise from his mother, alleging that

Hope wanted the same to clothe a model. Sidney intended to take these

clothes with him, and, after stealing the jewels, to escape disguised as

an old woman. As he was slender and clean-shaven and a capital actor, he

could easily manage this.

Then he arranged that Mrs. Jasher should join him in Paris, and they

would sell the emeralds, and go to America, there to marry and live

happily ever afterwards, like a fairy tale.

Unfortunately for the success of this plan, Mrs. Jasher thought that the

Professor would make a more distinguished husband, so she betrayed all

that Sidney, had arranged.

“What a beastly thing to do!” interrupted Random, disgusted. “It is not

as if she wanted to help Braddock. I think less of Mrs. Jasher than ever

I did. She might have remembered that there is honor amongst thieves.”

“Well, she is dead, poor soul!” said Hope with a sigh. “God knows that

if she sinned, she has paid cruelly for her sin,” after which remark, as

Sir Frank was silent, he resumed his reading.

Braddock was furious when he learned of his assistant's projected

trickery, and he determined to circumvent him. He agreed to marry Mrs.

Jasher, as, if he had not done so, she could have warned Sidney and he

could have escaped with both the mummy and the jewels by conniving with

Hervey. The Professor could not risk that, as, remembering Hervey

as Gustav Vasa, he was aware how clever and reckless he was. Whether

Braddock ever intended to marry the widow in the end it is hard to

say, but he certainly pretended to consent to the engagement, which was

mainly brought about by Lucy. Then came the details of the murder so far

as Mrs. Jasher knew.

One evening--in fact on the evening when the crime was committed--the

woman was walking in her garden late. In the moonlight she saw Braddock

and Cockatoo go down along the cinderpath to the jetty near the Fort.

Wondering what they were doing, she waited up, and heard and saw

them--for it was still moonlight--come back long after midnight. The

next day she heard of the murder, and guessed that the Professor and his

slave--for Cockatoo was little else--had rowed up to Pierside in a boat

and there had strangled Sidney and stolen the mummy. She saw Braddock

and accused him. The Professor had then opened the case, and had

pretended astonishment when discovering the corpse of the man whom

Cockatoo had strangled, as he knew perfectly well.

Braddock at first denied having been to Pierside, but Mrs. Jasher

insisted that she would tell the police, so he was forced to make a

clean breast of it to the woman.

“Now for it,” said Random, settling himself to hear details of the

crime, for he had often wondered how it had been executed.

“Braddock,” read Archie from the confession, for Mrs. Jasher did not

trouble herself with a polite prefix--“Braddock explained that when he

received a letter from Sidney stating that he would have to remain

with the mummy for a night in Pierside, he guessed that his treacherous

assistant intended to effect the robbery. It seems that Sidney by

mistake had left behind the disguise in which he intended to escape.

Aware of this through me”--Mrs. Jasher referred to herself--“he made

Cockatoo assume the dress and row up the river to the Sailor's Rest. The

Kanaka easily could be mistaken for a woman, as he also, like Sidney,

was slender and smooth-chinned. Also, he wore the shawl over his head to

disguise his mop of frizzy hair as much as possible, and for the purpose

of concealing his tattooed face. In the darkness--it was after nine

o'clock--he spoke to Sidney through the window, as he had seen him there

earlier, when searching for him. Cockatoo said that Sidney was much

afraid when he heard that his purpose had been discovered by the

Professor. He offered a share of the plunder to the Kanaka, and Cockatoo

agreed, saying he would come back late, and that Sidney was to admit him

into the bedroom so that they could open the mummy and steal the

jewels. Sidney quite believed that Cockatoo was heart and soul with him,

especially as the cunning Kanaka swore that he was weary of his master's

tyranny. It was when Cockatoo was talking thus that he was seen by Eliza

Flight, who mistook him--very naturally--for a woman. Cockatoo then

returned by boat to the Gartley jetty and told his master. Afterwards,

the Professor, at a much later hour, went down to the jetty and was

rowed up to Pierside by the Kanaka.”

“That was when Mrs. Jasher saw them,” said Random, much interested.

“Yes,” said Archie. “And then, if you remember; she watched for the

return of the couple.”

“It was nearly midnight when the boat was brought alongside the sloping

stone bank of the alley which ran past the Sailor's Rest. No one was

about at that hour, not even a policeman, and there was no light in

Sidney Bolton's window. Braddock was much agitated as he thought that

Sidney had already escaped. He waited in the boat and sent Cockatoo to

knock at the window. Then a light appeared and the window was silently

opened. The Kanaka slipped in and remained there for some ten minutes

after closing the window. When he returned, the light was extinguished.

He whispered to his master that Sidney had opened the packing case and

the mummy coffin, and had ripped the swathings to get the jewels. When

Sidney would not hand over the jewels to the Kanaka, as the latter

wanted him to, Cockatoo, already prepared with the window cord, which he

had silently taken from the blind, sprang upon the unfortunate assistant

and strangled him. Cockatoo told this to his horrified master, and

wanted him to come back to hide the corpse in the packing case.

Braddock refused, and then Cockatoo told him that he would throw the

jewels--which he had taken from Sidney's body--into the river. The

position of master and servant was reversed, and Braddock was forced to

obey.

“The Professor slipped silently ashore and into the room. The two men

relighted the candle and pulled down the blind. They then placed the

corpse of Sidney in the packing case, and screwed the same down in

silence. When this was completed, they were about to carry the mummy in

its coffin--the lid of which they had replaced--to the boat, when they

heard distant footsteps, probably those of a policeman on his beat.

At once they extinguished the candle, and--as Braddock told Mrs.

Jasher--he, for one, sat trembling in the dark. But the policeman--if

the footsteps were those of a policeman--passed up another street, and

the two were safe. Without relighting the candle, they silently slipped

the mummy through the window, Cockatoo within and Braddock without. The

case and its contents were not heavy, and it was not difficult for

the two men to take it to the boat. When it was safely bestowed,

Cockatoo--who was as cunning as the devil, according to his master

returned to the bedroom, and unlocked the door. He afterwards passed a

string through the joining of the upper and lower windows, and managed

to shut the snib. Afterwards he came to the boat and rowed it back

to Gartley. On the way Cockatoo told his master that Sidney had left

instructions that the packing case should be taken next morning to the

Pyramids, so there was nothing to fear. The mummy was hidden in a hole

under the jetty and covered with grass.”

“Why didn't they take it up to the house?” asked Random, on hearing

this.

“That would have been dangerous,” said Hope, looking up from the

manuscript, “seeing that the mummy was supposed to have been stolen by

the murderer. It was easier to hide it amongst the grasses under

the jetty, as no one ever goes there. Well”--he turned over a few

pages--“that is practically all. The rest is after events.”

“I want to hear them,” said Random, taking another cup of coffee.

Hope ran his eyes swiftly over the remaining portion of the paper, and

gave further details rapidly to his friend.

“You know all that happened,” he said, “the Professor's pretended

surprise when he found the corpse he had himself helped to pack and--”

“Yes! yes! But why was the mummy placed in Mrs. Jasher's garden?”

“That was Braddock's idea. He fancied that the mummy might be found

under the jetty and that inconvenient inquiries might be made. Also,

he wished if possible to implicate Mrs. Jasher, so as to keep her from

telling to the police what he had told her. He and Cockatoo went down

to the river one night and removed the mummy to the arbor silently.

Afterwards he pretended to be astonished when I found it. I must say

he acted his part very well,” said Hope reflectively, “even to accusing

Mrs. Jasher. That was a bold stroke of genius.”

“A very dangerous one.”

“Not at all. He swore to Mrs. Jasher that if she said anything, he would

tell the police that she had taken the clothes provided by Sidney from

the Pyramids and had gone to speak through the window, in order to fly

with Sidney and the emeralds. As the fact of the mummy being found in

Mrs. Jasher's garden would lend color to the lie, she was obliged to

hold her tongue. And after all, as she says, she didn't mind, since

she was engaged to the Professor, and possessed at least one of the

emeralds.”

“Ah! the one she passed along to me. How did she get that?”

Hope referred again to the manuscript.

“She insisted that Braddock should give it to her as a pledge of good

faith. He had to do it, or risk her splitting. That was why he placed

the mummy in her garden, so as to bring her into the matter, and render

it more difficult for her to speak.”

“What of the other emerald?”

“Braddock took that to Amsterdam, when he went to London that time--if

you remember, when Don Pedro arrived. Braddock sold the emerald for

three thousand pounds, and it is now on its way to an Indian rajah. I

fear Don Pedro will never set eyes on that again.”

“Where is the money?”

“He banked it in a feigned name in Amsterdam, and intended to account

for it when he married Mrs. Jasher by saying it was left to her by that

mythical Pekin merchant brother of hers. Savvy!”

“Yes. What an infernal little villain! And I expect he sent Cockatoo

down last night for the other emerald.”

“That is not related in the manuscript,” said Archie, laying down the

last sheet and taking up his coffee. “The confession ends abruptly--at

the time Cockatoo tapped at the window, I expect. But she said, when

dying, that the Kanaka asked for the second emerald. If she had not sent

it to you in a fit of weakness, I expect she would have passed it along.

I can't make out,” added Archie musingly, “why Mrs. Jasher confessed

when everything was so safe.”

“Well,” said Random, nursing his chin, and staring into the fire, “she

made a mistake in trying to blackmail me, though why she did so I can't

tell, seeing she had the whiphand of Braddock. Perhaps she wanted the

five thousand to spend herself, knowing that the Professor's plunder

would be wasted on his confounded expedition. At any rate she gave

herself away by the blackmail, and I expect she grew frightened. If the

house had been searched--and it might have been searched by the police,

had I arrested her for blackmail the emerald would have been found and

she would have been incriminated. She therefore got rid of it cleverly,

by passing it along to me as a wedding gift. Then she again grew afraid

and wrote out this confession to exonerate herself.”

“But it doesn't,” insisted Hope. “She makes herself out plainly as an

accessory after the fact.”

“A woman doesn't understand these legal niceties. She wrote that out to

clear herself in case she was arrested for the blackmail, and perhaps

in case Braddock refused to help her--as he certainly did, if you

remember.”

“He was hard on her,” confessed Archie slowly.

“Being such a villain himself,” said Random grimly. “However, Cockatoo

arrived unluckily on the scene, and when he found she had parted with

the emerald, and had written out the truth, he stabbed her. If we hadn't

come just in the nick of time, he would have annexed that confession,

and the truth would never have become known. No one,” ended Random,

rising and stretching himself, “would connect Braddock or Cockatoo with

the death of Mrs. Jasher.”

“Or with the death of Sidney Bolton either,” said Hope, also rising and

putting on his cap. “What an actor the man is!”

“Where are you going?” demanded Sir Frank, yawning.

“To the Pyramids. I want to see how Lucy is.”

“Will you tell her about that confession?”

“Not until later. I shall give this to Inspector Date when he arrives.

The Professor has made his bed, so he must lie on it. When I marry Lucy,

I'll take her away from this damned place.”

“Marry her at once, then,” advised Random, “while the Professor is doing

time, and while Cockatoo is being hanged. Meanwhile, I think you had

better put on your overcoat, unless you want to walk through the village

in crumpled evening dress, like a dissipated undergraduate.”

Archie laughed in spite of his weariness, and assumed his greatcoat at

the same moment as Random slipped into his. The two young men walked

out into the village and up to the Pyramids, for Random wished to see

Braddock before returning to the Fort. They found the door of the great

house open and the servants in the hall.

“What is all this?” demanded Hope, entering. “Why are you here, and not

at work? Where is your master?”

“He's run away,” said the cook in a shrill voice. “Lord knows why, sir.”

“Archie! Archie!” Lucy came running out of the museum, pale-faced and

white, “my father has gone away with Cockatoo and the green mummy. What

does it mean? And just when poor Mrs. Jasher is murdered too.”

“Hush, darling! Come in, and I'll explain,” said Hope gently.