Three days went by, and Professor Braddock still remained absent in
London, although an occasional letter to Lucy requested such and such an
article from the museum to be forwarded, sometimes by post and on other
occasions by Cockatoo, who traveled up to town especially. The Kanaka
always returned with the news that his master was looking well, but
brought no word of the Professor's return. Lucy was not surprised, as
she was accustomed to Braddock's vagaries.
Meanwhile Don Pedro, comfortably established at the Warrior Inn,
wandered about Gartley in his dignified way, taking very little interest
in the village, but a great deal in the Pyramids. As the Professor was
absent, Lucy could not ask him to dinner, but she did invite him and
Donna Inez to afternoon tea. Don Pedro was anxious to peep into the
museum, but Cockatoo absolutely refused to let him enter, saying that
his master had forbidden anyone to view the collection during his
absence. And in this refusal Cockatoo was supported by Miss Kendal, who
had a wholesome dread of her step-father's rage, should he return and
find that a stranger had been making free of his sacred apartments. The
Peruvian gentleman expressed himself extremely disappointed, so much
so, indeed, that Lucy fancied he believed Braddock had the green mummy
hidden in the museum, in spite of the reported loss from the Sailor's
Rest.
Failing to get permission to range through the rooms of the Pyramids,
Don Pedro paid occasional visits to Pierside and questioned the police
regarding the Bolton murder. From Inspector Date he learned nothing of
any importance, and indeed that officer expressed his belief that not
until the Day of judgment would the truth become known. It then occurred
to De Gayangos to explore the neighborhood of the Sailor's Rest, and
to examine that public-house himself. He saw the famous window through
which the mysterious woman had talked to the deceased, and noted that
it looked across a stony, narrow path to the water's edge, wherefrom a
rugged jetty ran out into the stream for some little distance. Nothing
would have been easier, reflected Don Pedro, than for the assassin to
enter by the window, and, having accomplished his deed, to leave in the
same way, bearing the case containing the mummy. A few steps would carry
the man and his burden to a waiting boat, and once the craft slipped
into the mists on the river, all trace would be lost, as had truly
happened. In this way the Peruvian gentleman believed the murder and the
theft had been accomplished, but even supposing things had happened as
he surmised, still, he was as far as ever from unraveling the mystery.
While Don Pedro searched for his royal ancestor's corpse, and
incidentally for the thief and murderer, his daughter was being wooed by
Sir Frank Random. Heaven only knows what he saw in her--as Lucy observed
to young Hope--for the girl had not a word to say for herself. She was
undeniably handsome, and dressed with great taste, save for stray
hints of barbaric delight in color, doubtless inherited from her Inca
ancestors. All the same, she appeared to be devoid of small talk or
great talk, or any talk whatsoever. She sat and smiled and looked like
a handsome picture, but after her appearance had satisfied the eye,
she left much to be desired. Yet Sir Frank approved of her stately
quietness, and seemed anxious to make her his wife. Lucy, in spite of
the fact that he had so speedily got over her refusal to marry him, was
anxious that he should be happy with Donna Inez, whom he appeared to
love, and afforded him every opportunity of meeting the lady, so that
he might prosecute his wooing. All the same, she wondered that he should
desire to marry an iceberg, and Donna Inez, with her silent tongue and
cold smiles, was little else. However, as Frank Random was the
chief party concerned in the love-making--for Donna Inez was merely
passive--there was no more to be said.