The Green Mummy | Page 3

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This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.

The Green Mummy
by Fergus Hume

CONTENTS
CHAPTER

I
THE LOVERS
II PROFESSOR BRADDOCK
III A MYSTERIOUS TOMB
IV THE UNEXPECTED
V MYSTERY
VI THE INQUEST
VII THE CAPTAIN OF "THE DIVER"
VIII THE BARONET
IX MRS. JASHER'S LUCK
X THE DON AND HIS DAUGHTER
XI THE MANUSCRIPT
XII A DISCOVERY
XIII MORE MYSTERY
XIV THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
XV AN ACCUSATION
XVI THE MANUSCRIPT AGAIN
XVII CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
XVIII RECOGNITION
XIX NEARER THE TRUTH
XX THE LETTER
XXI A STORY OF THE PAST
XXII A WEDDING PRESENT
XXIII JUST IN TIME
XXIV A CONFESSION
XXV THE MILLS OF GOD
XXVI THE APPOINTMENT
XXVII BY THE RIVER

The Green Mummy
CHAPTER I
THE LOVERS
"I am very angry," pouted the maid.
"In heaven's name, why?" questioned the bachelor.
"You have, so to speak, bought me."
"Impossible: your price is prohibitive."
"Indeed, when a thousand pounds - "
"You are worth fifty and a hundred times as much. Pooh!"
"That interjection doesn't answer my question."
"I don't think it is one which needs answering," said the young man lightly; "there are more important things to talk about than pounds, shillings, and sordid pence."
"Oh, indeed! Such as - "
"Love, on a day such as this is. Look at the sky, blue as your eyes; at the sunshine, golden as your hair."
"Warm as your affection, you should say."
"Affection! So cold a word, when I love you."
"To the extent of one thousand pounds."
"Lucy, you are a - woman. That money did not buy your love, but the consent of your stepfather to our marriage. Had I not humored his whim, he would have insisted upon your marrying Random."
Lucy pouted again and in scorn.
"As if I ever would," said she.
"Well, I don't know. Random is a soldier and a baronet; handsome and agreeable, with a certain amount of talent. What objection can you find to such a match?"
"One insuperable objection; he isn't you, Archie - darling."
"H'm, the adjective appears to be an afterthought," grumbled the bachelor; then, when she merely laughed teasingly after the manner of women, he added moodily:
"No, by Jove, Random isn't me, by any manner of means. I am but a poor artist without fame or position, struggling on three hundred a year for a grudging recognition."
"Quite enough for one, you greedy creature."
"And for two?" he inquired softly.
"More than enough."
"Oh, nonsense, nonsense, nonsense!"
"What! when I am engaged to you? Actions speak much louder than remarks, Mr. Archibald Hope. I love you more than I do money."
"Angel! angel!"
"You said that I was a woman just now. What do, you mean?"
"This," and he kissed her willing lips in the lane, which was empty save for blackbirds and beetles. "Is any explanation a clear one?"
"Not to an angel, who requires adoration, but to a woman who - Let us walk on,