"Only in a heated moment," cried the Professor, excusing himself.
"Never mind, she was accused," retorted Lucy stubbornly, "and now
this sailor accuses Sir Frank. Who knows who will be charged next with
committing the crime? I shall ask Archie to take the matter up, and hunt
down the real criminal. Until the guilty person is found, I foresee that
we shall never have a moment's peace."
"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Jasher earnestly. "For my own sake
I wish the matter of this mystery to be cleared up. Why don't you help
me?" she added, turning to Braddock, who listened placidly.
"I am helping," said Braddock quietly. "I intend to set Cockatoo on the
trail at once. He shall take up his abode in the Sailor's Rest on some
pretext, and no doubt will be able to find a clue."
"What?" cried the widow incredulously, "a savage like that?"
"Cockatoo is much cleverer than the average white man," said Braddock
dryly, "especially in following a trail. He, if any one, will learn the
truth. I would much rather trust the Kanaka than young Hope."
"Nonsense!" cried Lucy, standing up for her lover. "Archie is the one to
discover the assassin. I'll see him at once. And you, father?"
"I, my dear," said the Professor calmly, "shall remain here and make my
peace with the future Mrs. Braddock."
"You have made it already," said the widow graciously, and extended her
hand, which the Professor kissed unexpectedly, and then sat back in his
chair, looking quite abashed at his outburst of gallantry.
Seeing that everything was going well, Lucy left the elderly couple
to continue their courting, and hurried to Archie's lodgings in the
village. However, he happened to be out, and his landlady did not know
when he would return. Rather annoyed by this, since she greatly desired
to unbosom herself, Miss Kendal walked disconsolately towards the
Pyramids. On the way she was stopped by Widow Anne, looking more dismal
and funereal than ever, and garrulous with copious draughts of gin. Not
that she was intoxicated, but her tongue was loose, and she wept freely
for no apparent reason. According to herself, she had stopped Lucy to
demand back from Mr. Hope through the girl certain articles of attire
which had been borrowed for artistic purposes. These, consisting of a
shawl and a skirt and a bodice, were of extraordinary value, and Mrs.
Bolton wanted them back or their equivalent in value. She mentioned that
she would prefer the sum of five pounds.
"Why do you not ask Mr. Hope yourself?" said Lucy who was too impatient
to bear with the old creature's maunderings. "If you gave him the things
he will no doubt return them."
"If they aren't spiled with paint," wailed Widow Anne. "He told my Sid
as he wanted them for a model to wear while being painted. Sid asked
me, and I gave 'em to Sid, and Sid, he passed 'em along to your good
gentleman. There was a skirt, as good as new, and a body of the dress
trimmest beautiful, and a tartan shawl as I got from my mother. But no,"
the old woman corrected herself, "it was a dark shawl with red spots
and--"