“Well,” said I apathetically, “of course you know best. If this roofless hovel is enough for you, well and good. But when a few hundred yards away a whole city awaits your inspection, I should have thought——”
“What!” they all bawled, leaping up. “Where? Which?” and they stared round them as if they expected to see it perched on the adjoining precipices.
“Anywhere but where you’re looking,” I returned dryly. “There, if you’re so anxious to know,” and I pointed into the depths of the glacier.
“But how——” began Gerry.
“By the front door,” said I, interrupting. “There’s a passage right into the heart of it, and here have you all been idling about this one outlying bothie, while Parsons and I with some show of energy have been finding out——” It was no use continuing, for they had all forsaken me and raced down the slope toward the baggage, bawling aloud to Parsons for the candles. I followed at a more leisurely pace, and before I had time to overtake them, they had disappeared into the cavern with the only two lights. As I did not feel inclined to follow in the dark, I sat myself down to inspect the meat pie, and await their return.
They came staggering out in about half-an-hour, bearing something between the three of them. What sense of decency or of the fitness of things they possessed I don’t know, but it was the mummy they’d got, arranged on a sort of hammock of their coats, which they carried by the sleeves. The unfortunate corpse rolled and crumbled hideously as it came thus immodestly out into the sunlight after its centuries of seclusion. I could not restrain my indignation. Even Parsons was moved.
“It ain’t ’ardly decent,” he observed, looking across at me.
“I think you’re the most disreputable scoundrels I ever came across,” said I warmly, advancing upon the party. “You’re worse than Burke or Hare. Why couldn’t you let the wretched carcass sleep in peace?”
“Humbug!” quoth Gerry discourteously. “D’you think we’re going to let the only Mayan extant rot away in the bowels of a glacier for want of a little embalming? The Professor’s going to stuff it.”
“Oh, he is, is he?” said I, and smiled into my mustache. I had a good idea of what would occur when this worn carrion had been out in the sunlight for an hour or two. “I wish him joy,” I added politely.