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But if the bones were not John Bellingham's, the ring was; from which followed the important corollary that whoever had deposited those bones in the well had had possession of the body of John Bellingham. And there could be no doubt that that person was Mr. Jellicoe.
Jellicoe would have to play the trump card that he had been holding back in case the Court should refuse the application; a card that he was evidently reluctant to play. "He would have to produce the bones of the mummy's finger, together with John Bellingham's ring. No other course was possible. "But not only would the bones and the ring have to be found together.
Then, in a faint voice, he asked: "How do you suggest that John Bellingham's body came to be inside that cartonnage?" "I think Mr. Jellicoe is the most likely person to be able to answer that question," Thorndyke replied drily. There was another interval of silence, and then Dr. Norbury asked suddenly: "But what do you suppose has become of Sebek-hotep? The real Sebek-hotep, I mean?"
That is what these people seem to have done. And they did not see Mr. Bellingham. Mr. Bellingham's corpse might have been stowed away out of sight in any one of the rooms that they looked into." "That is a grim thought," said Jervis; "but it is perfectly true. There is no evidence that the man was not lying dead in the house at the very time of the search."
"These three explanations are what we may call the outside explanations. They touched none of the parties mentioned; they were all obviously improbable on general grounds; and to all of them there was one conclusive answer the scarab which was found in Godfrey Bellingham's garden. Hence I put them aside and gave my attention to the fourth explanation.
Jellicoe's evidence, and at its conclusion the witness glanced inquiringly at Mr. Bellingham's counsel. But Mr. Heath remained seated, attentively considering the notes that he had just made, and finding that there was to be no cross-examination, Mr. Jellicoe stepped down from the box. I leaned back on my bench, and, turning my head, observed Miss Bellingham deep in thought.
"Well, sir, what do you make of 'em?" the sergeant asked cheerfully as I shut up my notebook and straightened my back. "Whose bones are they? Are they Mr. Bellingham's, think ye?" "I should be very sorry to say whose bones they are," I replied. "One bone is very much like another, you know."
Mr Bellingham's "blood of all the Howards" rose and tingled about his ears, so that he could not hear Ruth's answer. It began by "Hush, Thomas; pray hush!" but how it went on he did not catch. The idea of his being Mrs Mason's son! It was really too ridiculous; but, like most things which are "too ridiculous," it made him very angry.
On the other hand, as it is now stated pretty openly that the police consider the bones to be almost certainly those of John Bellingham, it would seem perfectly natural that you, as Godfrey Bellingham's doctor, should go down to view them on his behalf." "I should like to go," I said. "I would give anything to go; but how is it to be managed?
Bellingham's familiarity, for it was rare and honest of its kind. Besides, he was old enough to be her grandfather, in spite of his pretty speeches and his graceful actions. Margaret passed a sleepless night. Her anger with Mr. Barker had not been so much the mere result of the words he had spoken, though she would have resented his sneer about Claudius sharply enough under any circumstances.
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