Archie mused and glanced at his watch.

“The Professor told Lucy that he came by the six train:  you say that he was here at seven.”

“Yes, and he left at eight.  What is the time now?”

“Ten o’clock, or a few minutes after.  Therefore, since neither you nor Braddock saw the mummy, I take it that the case was brought here by some unknown people between eight o’clock and a quarter to ten, about which time I arrived here with Lucy.”

Mrs. Jasher nodded.

“You put the matter very clearly,” she observed dryly.  “You have mistaken your vocation, Mr. Hope, and should have been a criminal lawyer.  I should turn detective were I you.”

“Why?” asked Archie with a start.

“You might ascertain my movements on the night when the crime was committed,” snapped the little widow.  “A woman muffled in a shawl, in much the same way as my head is now muffled in my skirt, talked to Bolton through the bedroom window of the Sailor’s Rest, you know.”

Hope expostulated.

“My dear lady, how you run on!  I assure you that I would as soon suspect Lucy as you.”

“Thank you,” said the widow very dryly and very tartly.

“I merely wish to point out,” went on Archie in a conciliatory tone, “that, as the mummy in its case—­as appears probable—­ was brought into your garden between the hours of eight and ten, less fifteen minutes, that you may have heard the voices or footsteps of those who carried it here.”

“I heard nothing,” said Mrs. Jasher, turning towards the path.  “I had my supper, and played a game or two of patience, and then wrote letters, as I told you before.  And I am not going to stand in the cold, answering silly questions, Mr. Hope.  If you wish to talk you must come inside.”

Hope shook his head and lighted a fresh cigarette.

“I stand guard over this mummy until its rightful owner comes,” said he determinedly.

“Ho!” rejoined Mrs. Jasher scornfully:  she was now at the door.  “I understood that you bought the mummy and therefore were its owner.  Well, I only hope you’ll find those emeralds Don Pedro talked about,” and with a light laugh she entered the cottage.

Archie looked after her in a puzzled way.  There was no reason to suspect Mrs. Jasher, so far as he saw, even though a woman had been seen talking to Bolton on the night of the crime.  And yet, why should the widow refer to the emeralds, which were of such immense value, according to Don Pedro?  Hope glanced at the case and shook the primitive coffin, anxious for the moment to open it and ascertain if the jewels were still clutched grimly in the mummy’s dead hands.  But the coffin was fastened tightly down with wooden pegs, and could only be opened with extreme care and difficulty.  Also, as Hope reflected, even did he manage to open this receptacle of the dead, he still could not ascertain if the emeralds were safe, since they would be hidden under innumerable swathings of green-dyed llama wool.  He therefore let the matter rest there, and, staring at the river, wondered how the mummy had been brought to the garden in the marshes.