Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Green Mummy by Fergus Hume (best summer reads of all time TXT) 📖
- Author: Fergus Hume
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Book online «The Green Mummy by Fergus Hume (best summer reads of all time TXT) 📖». Author Fergus Hume
“Oh!” Archie jumped up with widely opened eyes. “Then perhaps this solves the problem. Bolton was murdered by some Peruvian Indian.”
Random shook his head gravely.
“Again you offer me a loophole of escape, my dear fellow,” he said sententiously, “but that theory will not hold water. At present the Indians in Lima and Cuzco do not know that the mummy has been found. Don Pedro only chanced upon the paper which announced the sale by accident and had no time to communicate with his barbaric friends in South America. Failing to get the mummy from you, Professor, he would have returned to Peru and then would have told who possessed the corpse of Inca Caxas, leaving the Indians to deal with the matter. In that case my warning to Bolton would be necessary. But at the time I told him, it was not necessary. However, Bolton remained true to you, Professor, and declined to surrender the mummy. I therefore wired to Don Pedro at Genoa that the mummy was on board. The Diver and was being sent to Gartley. I also advised him to come to me here in order to be introduced to you. The rest you know.”
There was a moment’s silence. Then Archie, to test if Random was willing to admit everything - as an innocent man certainly would-asked significantly
“Did you see Bolton again after your interview on board ship?”
It was then that the baronet proved his good faith.
“Oh, yes,” he said easily and without hesitation. “I was walking about Pierside later, and, passing along that waterside alley near the Sailor’s Rest, I saw a window on the ground floor open, and Bolton looking out across the river. I stopped and asked him when he proposed to take the mummy to Gartley, and if it was on shore. He admitted that it was in the hotel, but declined to say when he would send it on to you, Professor. When he closed the window, I afterwards went into the hotel and had a drink in order to ask casually when Mr. Bolton intended to leave. I gathered - not directly, of course, but in a roundabout way - that he had arranged to go next morning and to send on his luggage. Then I left and went to London. In the course of time I returned here and learned of the murder and the disappearance of the corpse of Inca Caxas. And now,” Random stood up, “having admitted all this, perhaps you will believe me to be innocent.”
“You have no idea who murdered Bolton and placed his body in the packing case?” asked Braddock, manifestly disappointed.
“‘No. No more than I have any idea of the person who placed the mummy case and its contents in Mrs. Jasher’s garden.”
“Oh, you know that!” said Archie quickly.
“Yes. The news was all over the village this morning. I could hardly help knowing it. And I believe that the mummy has been taken to your house, Professor.”
“It has,” admitted Braddock dryly. “I took it myself from Mrs. Jasher’s arbor in a hand-cart, with the assistance of Cockatoo. But when I made an examination this morning in the presence of Hope and Don Pedro, I found that the swathings of the body had been ripped up, and that the emeralds mentioned in that manuscript had been stolen.”
“Strange!” said Random with a frown; “and by whom?”
“No doubt by the assassin of Sidney Bolton.”
“Probably.” Random kicked a mat straight with his foot. “At any rate the theft of the emeralds shows that it was not any Indian who killed Bolton. None of them would rifle so sacred a corpse.”
“Besides which - as you say - the Indians in Peru do not know that the mummy has reappeared after thirty years’ seclusion,” chimed in Hope, rising. “Well, and what is to be done now?”
For answer Sir Frank picked up the manuscript which still remained on the table.
“I shall see Don Pedro about this,” he said quietly, “and ascertain if it is the original or a copy.”
Braddock rose slowly and stared at the paper.
“Do you know Latin?” he asked.
“No,” rejoined Random, knowing what the savant meant. “I learned it, of course, but I have forgotten much. I might translate a word or two, but certainly not the hedge-priest Latin in which this is written.” He looked carefully at the manuscript as he spoke.
“But who could have placed it in your room?” questioned Archie.
“We cannot learn that until we see Don Pedro. If this is the original manuscript which we saw the other night, we may learn how it passed from the possession of De Gayangos to my bookcase. If it is a copy, then we must learn, if possible, who owned it.”
“Don Pedro said that a transcript or a translation had been made,” mentioned Hope.
“Evidently a transcript,” said Braddock, glaring at the paper in Random’s hand. “But how could that find its way from Lima to this place?”
“It might have been packed up with the mummy,” suggested Archie.
“No,” contradicted Random decisively, “in that event, the man in Malta from whom the mummy was bought would have discovered the emeralds, and would have taken them.”
“Perhaps he did. We have nothing to show that Bolton’s assassin committed the crime for the sake of the jewels.”
“He must have done so,” cried the Professor, irritably, “else there is no motive for the commission of the crime. But I think myself that we must start at the other end to find a clue. When we discover who placed the mummy in Mrs. Jasher’s garden - “
“That will not be easy,” murmured Hope thoughtfully, “though, of course, the same must have been brought by river. Let us go down to the embankment and see if there are any signs of a boat having been brought there last night,” and he moved to the door. “Random?”
“I cannot leave the Fort, as I am on duty,” replied the officer, putting the manuscript away in a drawer and locking the same, “but this evening I shall see Don Pedro, and in the meanwhile I shall endeavor to learn from my servant who visited me lately while I was absent. The manuscript must have been brought here by someone. But I trust,” he added as he escorted his two visitors to the door, “that you now acquit me of - “
“Yes! yes! yes!” cried Braddock, hastily cutting him short and shaking his hand. “I apologize for my suspicions. Now I maintain that you are innocent.”
“And I never believed you to be guilty,” cried Hope heartily.
“Thank you both,” said Random simply, and, having closed the door, he returned to a chair near the fire to smoke a pipe, and meditate over his future movements. “An enemy hath done this,” said Random, referring to the concealment of the manuscript, but he could think of no one who desired to harm him in any way.
Lucy and Mrs. Jasher were having a confidential conversation in the small pink drawing-room. True to her promise, Miss Kendal had come to readjust matters between the fiery 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 salon, and of the position you wish to hold in, London.”
“Ah, well,” said Mrs. Jasher, visibly softening, “there is something to be said there. After all, one can never find a man who is perfection. And a very amiable 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 promptly. “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 decided 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 virtuously, as if she was not making a virtue of necessity.
Things being thus settled, the two talked on amiably for some time, and discussed the chances of Random marrying Donna Inez. Both acknowledged that the Peruvian lady was handsome enough, but had not a word to say for herself.
While thus chattering, Professor Braddock trotted 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 robin. “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 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,
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