He fired. It was all about himself and Miss Ottley: how they had been brought up together, predestined sweethearts: how they had quarrelled and made up and quarrelled again: how really and truly in their hearts they adored each other: and how--if it had not been for the girl's intense devotion for her father, they would have been married long ago. He characterised Sir Robert as an extremely selfish man, who, ever since his wife's death, had used his daughter as a servant and secretary because he could get no other to serve him as well and intelligently. "But he doesn't really care for her a straw," concluded the Captain. "And he would sacrifice her without remorse to his beastly mummy hobby for ever if I'd let him. But I won't. I'm going to put my foot down presently. I've waited long enough. He has done nothing but drag her all over Europe translating papyri for him for the last six years. And she has worked for him like a slave. It's high time she had a little peace and happiness." "Translating papyri," I repeated. "A scholar, then?" "Between ourselves," replied the Captain, "Sir Robert's fame as a scholar and an Egyptologist rests entirely upon his daughter's labours. Without her he would be unknown. She did all the real work. He reaped the credit. She is three times the scholar he is, and I know a Frenchman who regards her knowledge of cuneiform as simply marvellous. He is a professor of ancient languages, too, at the Sorbonne, so he ought to know." "Queer she never mentioned a word of it to me," said I. "Oh!" cried the Captain, "she is the modestest, sweetest creature in the universe. I sometimes think she is positively ashamed of her extraordinary ability. Whenever I speak of it she apologises--and says she only learned the things she knows to be a help to her dear old father. Dear old father, indeed! The selfish old swine ought to be suppressed. He loathes me because he fears I'll persuade her to leave him. If she wasn't so useful she could go to the deuce for all he'd care. But it's got to end soon or I'll know the reason why. Don't you think I'm right? We've been engaged now seven years." "I consider you a model of patience," I replied. "Besides," said the Captain, starting off on a new tack, "the old man is positively uncanny. It's my belief he has an underhanded motive in his love for mummies, especially for his latest find, this Ptahmes. He's a spook-hunter, you know--and he told me one day in an unguarded moment that he expected to live a thousand years." "What's a spook-hunter, Captain?"