“Here am I and here is Archie.  Dinner is ready.  And you—­”

“I am very hungry,” said Mrs. Jasher.  “I have been called an atom of the slime,” then she laughed and took possession of young Hope.

Lucy wrinkled her brow; she did not approve of the widow’s man-annexing instinct.

CHAPTER III

A MYSTERIOUS TOMB

One member of the Braddock household was not included in the general staff, being a mere appendage of the Professor himself.  This was a dwarfish, misshapen Kanaka, a pigmy in height, but a giant in breadth, with short, thick legs, and long, powerful arms.  He had a large head, and a somewhat handsome face, with melancholy black eyes and a fine set of white teeth.  Like most Polynesians, his skin was of a pale bronze and elaborately tattooed, even the cheeks and chin being scored with curves and straight lines of mystical import.  But the most noticeable thing about him was his huge mop of frizzled hair, which, by some process, known only to himself, he usually dyed a vivid yellow.  The flaring locks streaming from his head made him resemble a Peruvian image of the sun, and it was this peculiar coiffure which had procured for him the odd name of Cockatoo.  The fact that this grotesque creature invariably wore a white drill suit, emphasized still more the suggestion of his likeness to an Australian parrot.

Cockatoo had come from the Solomon Islands in his teens to the colony of Queensland, to work on the plantations, and there the Professor had picked him up as his body servant.  When Braddock returned to marry Mrs. Kendal, the boy had refused to leave him, although it was represented to the young savage that he was somewhat too barbaric for sober England.  Finally, the Professor had consented to bring him over seas, and had never regretted doing so, for Cockatoo, finding his scientific master a true friend, worshipped him as a visible god.  Having been captured when young by Pacific black-birders, he talked excellent English, and from contact with the necessary restraints of civilization was, on the whole, extremely well behaved.  Occasionally, when teased by the villagers and his fellow-servants, he would break into childish rages, which bordered on the dangerous.  But a word from Braddock always quieted him, and when penitent he would crawl like a whipped dog to the feet of his divinity.  For the most part he lived entirely in the museum, looking after the collection and guarding it from harm.  Lucy—­who had a horror of the creature’s uncanny looks—­objected to Cockatoo waiting at the table, and it was only on rare occasions that he was permitted to assist the harassed parlormaid.  On this night the Kanaka acted excellently as a butler, and crept softly round the table, attending to the needs of the diners.  He was an admirable servant, deft and handy, but his blue-lined face and squat figure together with the obtrusively golden halo, rather worried Mrs. Jasher.  And, indeed, in spite of custom, Lucy also felt uncomfortable when this gnome hovered at her elbow.  It looked as though one of the fantastical idols from the museum below had come to haunt the living.