“But I have read in Prescott’s History that they did,” said Hope.

“Prescott!  Prescott!” cried the Professor contemptuously, “a most unreliable authority.  However, I’ll promise you one thing, Hope, that if there are any jewels, or jewelry, you shall have the lot.”

“Give me some, Mr. Hope,” cried the widow.

“I cannot,” laughed Archie; “the green mummy belongs to the Professor.”

“I cannot accept such a gift, Hope.  Owing to circumstances I have been obliged to borrow the money from you; otherwise the mummy would have been acquired by some one else.  But when I find the tomb of Queen Tahoser, I shall repay the loan.”

“You have repaid it already,” said Hope, looking at Lucy.

Braddock’s eyes followed his gaze and his brows contracted.  “Humph!” he muttered, “I don’t know if I am right in consenting to Lucy’s marriage with a pauper.”

“Oh, father!” cried the girl, “Archie is not a pauper.”

“I have enough for Lucy and me to live on,” said Hope, although his face had flushed, “and, had I been a pauper I could not have given you that thousand pounds.”

“You will be repaid—­you will be repaid,” said Braddock, waving his hand to dismiss the subject.  “And now,” he rose with a yawn, “if this tedious feast is at an end, I shall again seek my work.”

Without a word of apology to the disgusted Mrs. Jasher, he trotted to the door, and there paused.

“By the way, Lucy,” he said, turning, “I had a letter to-day from Random.  He returns in his yacht to Pierside in two or three days.  In fact, his arrival will coincide with that of The Diver.”

“I don’t see what his arrival has to do with me,” said Lucy tartly.

“Oh, nothing at all—­nothing at all,” said Braddock airily, “only I thought—­that is, but never mind, never mind.  Cockatoo, come down with me.  Good night!  Good night!” and he disappeared.

“Well,” said Mrs. Jasher, drawing along breath, “for rudeness and selfishness, commend me to a scientist.  We might be all mud, for what notice he takes of us.”

“Never mind,” said Miss Kendal, rising, “come to the drawing-room and have some music.  Archie, will you stop here?”

“No.  I don’t care to sit over my wine alone,” said that young gentleman, rising.  “I shall accompany you and Mrs. Jasher.  And Lucy,” he stopped her at the door, through which the widow had already passed, “what did your father mean by his hints concerning Random?”

“I think he regrets giving his consent to my marriage with you,” she whispered back.  “Did you not hear him talk about that tomb?  He desires to get money for the expedition.”

“From Random?  What rubbish!  Sooner than that—­if our marriage is stopped by the beastly business—­I’ll sell out and—­”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” interrupted the girl imperiously; “we must live if we marry.  You have given my father enough.”