The Green God Part 6

McQuade remained silent for some moments, then turned to Major Temple.

"Major Temple," he said, "I am obliged to go into the town for the remainder of the afternoon, but I shall be back here this evening. I shall leave one of my men on the premises. When I return, I should like very much to have you tell me the complete history of this jewel, this emerald Buddha, which has evidently been the cause of all this trouble.

No doubt Mr. Ashton told you the story of his efforts to obtain it, while in China, and of the way in which he succeeded. Possibly, when we have a better understanding of what this jewel may mean to the real owners of it, we may the better understand how far they would go in their efforts to recover it."

"I shall be very happy indeed to do so," said Major Temple. "It is a most interesting and remarkable story, I can a.s.sure you."

After McQuade had gone, I strolled about the grounds for the larger part of the afternoon, trying to get my mind off the gloomy events which had filled it all the morning to the exclusion of everything else. I said to Major Temple before I left him that I regretted the necessity of remaining as an uninvited guest at his house pending the inquest, and suggested that I might remove myself and my belongings to Exeter, but he would not hear of it. I strolled into the town, however, later in the afternoon, after trying vainly to make some sketches, and dispatched a telegram to my mother, in Torquay, advising her that I would be delayed in joining her. On my way back I took a short cut over the fields, and found myself approaching The Oaks from the rear, through a bit of woodland, which through neglect had become filled with underbrush. The sun had already set, or else the gloom of the autumn afternoon obscured its later rays, for the wood was shadowy and dark, and as I emerged from it, near a line of hedge which separated it from the kitchen gardens of The Oaks, I observed two figures standing near a gateway in the hedge, talking together earnestly. I came upon them suddenly, and, as I did so, they separated and one of them disappeared swiftly into the shadows of the wood while the other advanced rapidly toward the house. I quickened my steps, and, as the figure ahead of me reached the higher ground in the rear of the house, I saw that it was Li Min. He appeared unconscious of my presence and vanished rapidly into the house. The circ.u.mstance filled me with vague suspicions, though I could not tell just why.

Instinctively, as I approached the house, I turned toward the west wing, and, as I reached the rear corner of the building, I stepped back on the gra.s.s, beyond the gravel walk, to obtain a view of the windows above. As I moved backward over the turf, until I could reach a point where I could see over the edge of the porch roof, I suddenly tripped over an object in the gra.s.s and nearly fell. As I recovered myself, I looked to see what it was, and picked up a short, thick iron poker with a heavy octagonal bra.s.s k.n.o.b at one end of it. As I held it in my hand, I realized at once that with such a weapon as this the strange wound in Ashton's head could readily have been made. I examined the pointed prismatic k.n.o.b carefully, but, beyond being somewhat stained from lying in the wet gra.s.s, it showed no other marks of the gruesome use to which I instinctively felt it had been put. Wrapping it carefully in my handkerchief, I carried it to my room, and took the precaution to lock it safely in one of the drawers of the dresser, pending an opportunity to show it privately to Sergeant McQuade upon his return from Exeter.

CHAPTER V

MAJOR TEMPLE'S STORY

We sat in the dimly lighted library after dinner, having been joined by Sergeant McQuade who returned from Exeter about nine. I had not seen Miss Temple alone, since dinner, as she had retired to her room as soon as our silent meal was over. The Major, after furnishing us with some excellent cigars, and some specially fine liqueur brandy, settled himself in his easy chair and proceeded to tell us of his experiences, and those of Robert Ashton, in the pursuit of the emerald Buddha. He seemed anxious to do this, to show to the detective the probability of the murder of Ashton having occurred in an attempt upon the part of some Chinese secret or religious society to recover the jewel. He showed no feeling of animosity toward the man from Scotland Yard whether he felt it or not, and had either concluded that the latter's sharp questioning of his daughter was justified by the curious and inexplicable circ.u.mstances which surrounded the tragedy, or else was desirous of covering up his own knowledge of the matter by a.s.suming a manner at once frank and ingenuous.

"I spent almost all of last year," said the Major, "in traveling through the interior of China. I was for a long time stationed in India, and although I was placed upon the retired list nearly ten years ago, the spirit of the East has called me, its fascination has drawn me toward the rising sun, ever since. I had traveled extensively in India, Siam, Persia and even j.a.pan, and was familiar with most of the Chinese cities upon and near the coast, but the interior was to me until last year almost a sealed book. My daughter and I arrived at Pekin early last spring, and, after spending nearly a month in that city, we began an extensive trip toward the West. I had made somewhat of a study of Chinese, while in India, having always been attracted by the art and history of that remarkable country, and during our stay in Pekin, and later, while traveling inland, I managed to pick up enough of the local dialects to make myself understood. We traveled on horseback, and had a considerable retinue of native servants which we took along with us from Pekin. The expedition was safe enough, barring the usual attempts of sneak thieves upon our stores, and while to persons not accustomed to traveling in such countries the journey would no doubt have been full of hardships, to us, familiar with such work, it was fairly comfortable. We paid good prices for what we bought en route, had no religious views to promulgate, and, by minding our own business strictly, we had no trouble with the natives of any serious moment. I had managed to pick up a few samples of old porcelain and one or two excellent ivories of great age and beauty, but, beyond these, the trip had not yielded much in the way of curios for my collection, when in June we reached the city of Ping Yang. We found this place peculiarly interesting to us, with a population noticeably different from the inhabitants of the seaport towns, and we remained there perhaps a month. I spent a good deal of time wandering about the town, looking at such examples of old bronzes, embroideries, curious bits of jewelry, etc., as I could find in the shops and bazaars, and I frequently had occasion to pa.s.s a small temple, maintained by the Buddhists in one of the lower quarters of the town.

Not over half of the Chinese are Buddhists, as perhaps you may know, the number of devotees of that religion being considerably greater in the western and northwestern part of the empire, toward Thibet, from which country the religion originally pa.s.sed into China. This temple, of which I speak, was a small one, but was notable because of the fact that a portion of the bone of the little finger of Buddha was preserved, or said to be preserved, among the relics of the shrine. I had frequently observed the priest, who had charge of the temple, sitting sunning himself outside its doorway as I pa.s.sed, and on several occasions I had dropped some coins into his hand with a salutation which would be equivalent to our English good luck. One day when I was pa.s.sing, I remarked to one of my servants who was with me and who understood English fairly well, that I was curious to see the interior of the shrine, and he, after a conversation with the temple priest, informed me that, if I wished it, there would be no objection to my doing so. I thereupon entered and found myself in a gloomy chamber dimly illuminated by several oil lamps hanging from the low ceiling. Around the walls of the room hung some wonderful embroideries, which represented, so the priest informed me, incidents in the life of Buddha. There were no seats, of course, and the floor was of hard-packed clay. At the center of the rear end of the room was a high wooden screen, elaborately carved, and lacquered in dull red and gold. Through an opening in this screen I perceived a large bronze figure of the Buddha, before which was arranged, upon the low altar, a profusion of flowers and food, offerings of the faithful to the deity. There were a number of small candles burning before the bronze figure, and behind and beyond it I saw a small room which evidently served as the living or sleeping chamber of the temple priest. After he had shown me everything in the room with much pride--he seemed a simple and earnest old fellow--I made ready to depart and, before doing so, drew from my pocket a handful of the bra.s.s coins, called cash, with which you are no doubt familiar, and thrust them into the old fellow's outstretched hands. He seemed deeply grateful and said a few words in his native tongue to my servant, who turned to me with the information that the priest was about to accord me an especial honor by showing me the sacred relic of the Buddha. He approached the altar, and, taking a key from his girdle, opened a small gold box covered with wonderful repousse work, which stood directly in front of the sitting figure of the G.o.d, and rested between his knees. Upon opening this box, he drew forth a small ivory shrine, also elaborately carved, which he set upon the top of the first box, and arranged so that the light from the candles fell upon it. He then opened the ivory box with a small gold key, and I looked in. The relic of the Buddha, a small and insignificant looking piece of dirty brown bone, I paid slight attention to, for in that box, glistening and glowing with the most wonderful color in the light of the candles, stood the emerald Buddha. The relic lay upon a piece of white silk, at the bottom of the box. There was a shelf in the box, of ivory, half-way up its height, and upon this shelf, occupying the upper half of the ivory casket, stood the emerald, its brilliant color and marvelous workmanship rendered the more noticeable by the white background of the ivory. I inquired as to its history, through my servant, and was informed that it had been brought to Ping Yang many centuries before, by the priest who brought the relic from Thibet and founded the temple. He told me that it was an emerald, but neither the fact of its enormous size and value as a jewel nor its priceless beauty as an example of the most exquisite workmanship in the carving and cutting of gems that I had ever seen seemed to appeal to him. To him its value was solely of a religious nature: it was a statue of the great teacher, carved by some devoted worshiper or patient monk centuries before, and had always been venerated, next to the relic, as the most precious of all the temple's possessions. I told my servant to ask the priest if they would sell it, but he seemed disinclined to make the request until I repeated my injunction rather sharply. When the message had been translated to the old man, he scowled darkly, his face lighting up with a look of sullen anger, and, hastily locking his treasures in their double box, he turned without making any reply and began to usher us from the room. I repeated the request, this time using my own store of Chinese, and drew forth a large roll of gold, but the priest waved me aside with an angry word, which sounded like a curse, and pointed to the door. There was nothing left but to go, and I did so, though with the bitterest regret at leaving what I considered the most remarkable and unique of all the curios which I have ever seen in the whole course of my life and the one which I would have given most to possess. In the course of the next week I haunted the neighborhood of the temple, and several times, finding the old priest sitting beside the door, attempted to repeat my offer, but he invariably drew back with a look of intense hatred, and refused to listen to me. Upon my fourth or fifth attempt I found him in company with several other Chinamen, evidently members of his sect, who regarded me with dark looks and muttered imprecations, and the next time I appeared in the street I found myself surrounded by quite a mob of excited Chinamen who a.s.sailed me with fierce curses and cries, and even made as though to offer me personal violence. After this I felt that it would be unsafe for me to venture into that quarter of the town again, and a few days later, finding that even in other sections of the city I was regarded with evident suspicion and dislike, I decided to leave the place and return to Pekin. We left Pekin early in August, and, after stopping at several of the seaport cities, arrived early in October in Hong Kong where we made a stay of several weeks. It was here that I met Robert Ashton who, like myself, was traveling in China for the purpose of collecting rare examples of Chinese art, and who, I soon found, possessed an extraordinary knowledge of the subject. This knowledge, which is not common among us in the West, formed a bond of sympathy between us, especially in that country so remote from home, where the sight of an English face and the sound of one's native language are always so welcome. During our stay there we saw a great deal of Mr. Ashton, and he soon became very attentive to my daughter. She, like myself, has always felt a deep interest in Eastern art, and seemed rather to welcome Mr. Ashton's attentions, and I was gratified to think that in him I might find a son-in-law who would appreciate the collection, which has been my life work. I told him the story of my experiences in Ping Yang, in which he seemed deeply interested. He informed me that, although he had been in the city, he had never heard of the emerald Buddha. He intended going on to Pekin later in the autumn, and proposed to me that he should attempt to secure the jewel for me. I told him that I regarded its purchase as impossible, but he only laughed and said that he felt sure he could secure it. I made light of his claims, and, when he said in all seriousness one night that he would obtain it for me provided I would consent to his marriage to my daughter, I agreed at once, both because I felt his quest was an absolutely hopeless one and because I saw no objections to him as a son-in-law in any event. I did not mention my agreement to my daughter at the time, not wishing it to appear to her that I was bartering her in return for a mere jewel. In fact I felt so certain that she would welcome Mr. Ashton's advances that I preferred that she should remain in ignorance of my compact with him. A few days later he departed for Pekin, and we returned home by way of India and Suez. On account of both my daughter's health and my own, we decided to take a house on the southwest coast for a time, my house in London being under lease for a term of years, expiring this coming spring. Upon my return I questioned my daughter with relation to Mr. Ashton, and was amazed and horrified to learn that, far from regarding him with sentiments of esteem, she bore toward him a feeling almost of aversion. I explained to her the promise that I had made which it was now too late for me to recall, and at my earnest request and almost at my command she wrote to Mr. Ashton, agreeing to abide by my wishes in the matter. That was six or eight months ago, and I heard nothing from him until two days ago when he telegraphed me from Southampton that he had arrived in England and would come to see me at once.

"His story, as he related it to me at dinner last night, was like an adventure from the Arabian Nights. After completing his business in Pekin, he had set out upon his long journey to Ping Yang with only a single native servant, a Chinaman from the south, a Confucian, who was devoted to him, and owed him a debt of grat.i.tude for saving his life on one occasion. Accompanied only by this man, he penetrated slowly to within about fifteen miles of the city of Ping Yang, and there, in a small village, he lived for over a month, in an inconspicuous way. He spoke Chinese well, and, with the a.s.sistance of his servant, got hold of a dress such as is worn by the Buddhist pilgrim monks in China, who, casting aside the things of this World, spend their life in wandering about from shrine to shrine, living on the alms of the faithful and preaching the doctrines of their religion as they go. In this dress, with shaven head and staff in hand, he had arrived, alone, in Ping Yang one evening at dusk and at once proceeded to the temple, the location of which I had carefully described to him. Arriving at the door, with an offering of flowers, he entered, and, prostrating himself before the shrine, seemed lost in prayer. There were a number of other worshipers in the temple at the time, and still others came and went as the evening wore on, but Ashton continued in his place, muttering his prayers and pretending to be in great agony of spirit. Presently the hour grew late and one by one the worshipers departed, until only Ashton and the old temple priest were left. The latter, in some impatience, came up to him, and informed him that the hour was late and that he had better continue his devotions upon the morrow. Ashton pretended to be suffering from some sudden illness, and lay upon the floor moaning pitifully. As the old monk bent over him to see whether he could hear his muttered words Ashton suddenly seized him by the throat, and with his powerful hands choked him into silence. He then gagged him with a piece of cloth which he had brought for the purpose, and, taking from his girdle the keys of the small shrine, proceeded to quickly open it and abstract the coveted emerald Buddha. Escape was easy. The old priest, unable to utter a sound would be unable to give the alarm until the next morning, and by that time Ashton, who had left his servant with their horses at a retired spot outside the town, would be miles away, journeying peaceably toward Pekin as an English traveler. His escape, however, was not to be so easily effected. Whether the old priest penetrated his disguise as he sprang upon him, or whether the uproar into which the town was thrown reached the house at which the disguise had been a.s.sumed, he of course never knew, but it is certain that, after progressing toward Pekin for two days, they became aware that they were being followed by a numerous party of Chinese upon horseback, armed with pikes, bows and arrows, and some muskets. They got wind of the pursuing party before they themselves were seen, and, swerving from the main road, abandoned their horses in a lonely bit of wood, and while Ashton hid in the underbrush, his servant, after waiting until their pursuers had pa.s.sed, went out and procured at a near-by village a set of Chinese clothing similar to his own, which Ashton donned after burying his own belongings in a swampy pond in the wood. From here on his adventures were exciting and varied, but as they progressed in a southeasterly direction they got beyond the zone which had been affected by the robbery of the temple, and at last succeeded in reaching the coast. From here they went north to Pekin, where the pseudo-Chinamen disappeared one night into the house where Ashton maintained his headquarters while in Pekin, and the next morning Ashton appeared in European clothing, and began making arrangements to leave for his long trip to England. The rest of the story you know. He arrived here last night, and this morning he was found murdered and the emerald Buddha has disappeared. G.o.d knows what influences have been at work in his taking off. As for me, I know no more about it than you do."

As Major Temple concluded his story, he gazed at Sergeant McQuade and myself in turn, then pa.s.sed his hand nervously over his forehead, as though the strain of the tragedy had begun to tell upon him severely.

McQuade rose, and I did likewise, and, bidding the Major good-night we left the room, leaving him sitting dejectedly enough, I thought, in his easy chair, patting the head of his great mastiff, Boris. It was past midnight when I left McQuade at the foot of the staircase, and, in spite of all the excitement of the day, I found myself so worn out that I was asleep almost as soon as I had placed my head upon the pillow.

CHAPTER VI

THE ORIENTAL PERFUME

The inquest into Robert Ashton's strange death, which was held the following day in the billiard-room at The Oaks, was a brief affair. A jury had been impaneled in the town, and Major Temple, Miss Temple and myself, as well as Li Min and the other servants, were duly examined and we told our respective stories as we had already told them to Sergeant McQuade. No new light was thrown upon the affair by our testimony. Miss Temple, when questioned, admitted that she had left the house early in the morning, with the intention of running away, but had changed her mind suddenly and returned. Beyond this nothing could be got out of her.

The divisional surgeon testified that his examination of the deceased showed a simple fracture of the skull, not necessarily sufficient to produce death, although capable of doing so when combined with nervous shock or a weakened condition of the heart. That one or both of the latter agencies had combined with the result of the blow was evidenced by Ashton's almost instantaneous death and the look of horror which was upon his face. There was nothing for the jury to do but render a verdict stating that Robert Ashton had come to his death through a blow upon the head, delivered with some sharp instrument by a person or persons unknown. Said verdict having accordingly been rendered, and the body removed to an undertaking establishment in Exeter, there seemed nothing further for me to do but pack up my few belongings and go my way, knowing no more of the cause of Robert Ashton's death than before. I knew that Sergeant McQuade was working eagerly upon the case, and I felt sure that, if the discovery of the murderer were possible, he would accomplish it, but I had very grave doubts as to his success. I spoke a few words to him at the close of the inquest, and he informed me that he intended going up to London early that afternoon to interrogate the two Chinamen detained there since the preceding day, and, upon my volunteering to accompany him, he evinced no objection, but on the contrary seemed rather to welcome my suggestion. I knew perfectly well that, until the mystery was solved, not only myself, but Major and Miss Temple and Li Min, as well as the other servants in the house would all be more or less under police surveillance, and my sudden determination to go up to London arose from a feeling that I wanted if possible to stay with this case to the end--a feeling that became intensified whenever I thought of Muriel Temple and the unfortunate position in which this affair had placed her. Her exquisitely lovely face, drawn with suffering, appeared to me constantly, as she had looked at the coroner's inquest, and I felt with all my heart that, if I could do anything to help her, I would, cost what it might. I had no very clear idea as to just what I could accomplish by going up to London, but I felt sure that I should be more likely to find opportunities for helping her there, with the detective, than would be the case should I continue my walking trip to Torquay.

I hastened to my room, therefore, intending to pack my belongings before luncheon, so as to be ready for a start as soon thereafter as the detective was ready. I left the door of my room partially open upon entering, and for a time busied myself in arranging my luggage. As I did so, I thought I heard a slight sound in the green room across the hall--the one in which the tragedy had occurred--and, glancing up, saw that, by looking into the mirror of my dresser, I could see most of the interior of the room opposite. The room was not empty--for in a moment I observed Li Min, the Chinese servant, engaged apparently in arranging it, now that its unfortunate occupant and his belongings had been removed. His actions struck me as being decidedly peculiar, and I watched him carefully as he moved about. He was evidently searching for something, and examined with the most minute care every object in the room--the carpet, the pictures, the furniture, even the wall paper, as though looking for some place of concealment. I tried to figure this out to myself, but I could see no reasonable explanation of his conduct. If he, or any of his confederates had killed Ashton, they certainly must have secured the emerald Buddha, and taken it with them--the empty case, I remembered, lay upon the table. What then, could this Chinaman be searching for with such evident eagerness and anxiety? I determined to surprise him, and with a few rapid steps crossed the intervening hall and appeared in the doorway. He at once seemed confused, and made a quick pretense of being busily occupied in the business of setting the room to rights. I stood looking at him questioningly for a few moments, when I presently became aware of a curiously pungent, yet sweet, aromatic odor, which had something vaguely familiar to me about it. I could not, at first, place this perfume, which was noticeably different from those of our own country, when suddenly it flashed into my mind that this was the curious scent which I had noticed upon Miss Temple's handkerchief--the one dropped by her in Ashton's room on the occasion of her visit to him shortly before midnight on the evening preceding the tragedy. I glanced about, thinking to discover the source of this perfume, but for a time had difficulty in doing so. At last, however, I found that it came from a small cake of soap, of a dull-green color, which lay upon the washstand where it had evidently been left by Ashton. I picked up the soap and examined it, and at once recognized the pungent odor of which I have spoken. The coincidence struck me as being queer--the presence of this same perfume upon Miss Temple's handkerchief--and I was at a loss to account for it. I picked up the cake of soap, observing its perfume closely, then, noticing that the Chinaman was regarding me with a particularly malevolent gaze, I retired to my room, taking the soap with me. I had no definite purpose in this except to keep it in order to identify the perfume, and, upon returning to my room threw it into my satchel and completed the arrangements for my departure.

I was soon ready to go, and, after leaving my bag with one of McQuade's men, who was to accompany us to the railway station, I sought Miss Temple in the hope of saying good-by to her before my departure. I was lucky enough to find her in the library, sewing, and looking unusually pale and distressed. She greeted me with rising color, and I confess that I, too, felt a trifle of embarra.s.sment. I could not forget her agitation of the day before when I had questioned her as to her movements upon the morning of the tragedy and her flat refusal to continue the conversation when I had pressed her to explain her reasons for her early morning expedition as well as her sudden return. I stood gazing at her in perplexity, but, as I did so, the beauty of her face, the clear, honest expression of her eyes once more convinced me that whatever were her reasons for silence they did not in any way implicate _her_ in this tangled affair.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I HAVE COME TO SAY GOOD-BY," I SAID.]

"I have come to say good-by," I said.

"Oh, are you going--I did not know." She half rose; her face filled with lively concern.

"I'm afraid I've already overstayed my time," I replied. "After all, Miss Temple, I came as a stranger and must thank you and your father for making me as welcome as you have under the existing painful circ.u.mstances."

"I have not thought of you as a stranger, Mr. Morgan," she answered simply. "You have been a great help during this trying ordeal, and I am sorry that you must go--very sorry." There was a ring of sincerity in her voice that thrilled me; my heart gave a leap, and, as I met her eyes, I realized all of a sudden that, go where I might, I could not yet go very far away from Muriel Temple. "I do not go because I desire it,"

I replied, in a voice from which I could not eliminate the depth and intensity of my feelings. "I am no longer needed here, and it is in the hope that I may perhaps be of some service to you in London that I have asked Sergeant McQuade's permission to accompany him there to-day. I have taken the deepest interest in this terrible affair, Miss Temple, and, if it lies in my power, I intend to find the solution of it. My reward, if I can do so, will be the knowledge that I have served you."

"You are very good, Mr. Morgan. I shall never forget it, never." She rose and placed her hand in mine, and allowed it to remain there for a moment--a moment which seemed far too short to me, since I had suddenly realized that I should be madly happy could I know that I would have the right to keep it there always. "And, when you have good news, you will come to The Oaks and tell us about it, will you not?" she concluded, with a smile that went to my heart.

"Indeed I shall, Miss Temple--you may be sure of that--and I hope it may be soon."

"So do I," she said, and I turned to leave her. Then I suddenly bethought myself of the strange Oriental perfume that had clung so strongly to the handkerchief which the detective had found in the green room. I turned to her once more. "Miss Temple," I said, with some hesitation, "you will pardon me, I know, but you may remember that the handkerchief which was found in Mr. Ashton's room upon the morning of the--the tragedy, and which you thought you might have dropped there, was strongly scented with a powerful Oriental perfume. May I ask what that perfume is, and where you procured it?"

"Perfume?" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, in surprise. "Why, Mr. Morgan, I never use any--never."

"You never use any?" I stammered. "But it was upon your handkerchief. I thought that perhaps you might have gotten it during your travels in China."

"The handkerchief was mine, Mr. Morgan--that is true. But of the perfume I know absolutely nothing. Why do you ask?"

I hardly knew what reply to make. The whole affair seemed absurdly trivial; the ident.i.ty of the perfume of the soap, and of the handkerchief meant nothing, pointed to nothing, and yet I could not shake off the idea that there was some intimate connection between the perfume of the handkerchief and that of the soap which would go far toward solving the mystery of Robert Ashton's death. I bade her good-by with some simple explanation of my question, and hurried out to find McQuade. I understood that he intended going in to Exeter before luncheon, getting a bite to eat there, and taking the early afternoon express for London. I found him with one of his men upon the porch roof, busily engaged in making photographs of the b.l.o.o.d.y hand print upon the window sill of the green room. He came down presently and joined me.

"Is it not a curious fact, Mr. Morgan," he remarked, as he reached the foot of the short ladder he had used to ascend to the roof, "that, although Li Min had not only the motive for the murder, namely, the securing of the emerald Buddha, but also the opportunity, inasmuch as he could readily have reached the porch roof from within the house by means of the hall window, and while the hand print which I have been photographing is small and delicate, like that of a woman, or indeed like that of Li Min himself, yet I have tested every possible human means whereby the windows and doors of that room could have been bolted after the crime was committed, and I can see no possible way in which it could have been done, unless either Major Temple or yourself did it upon entering the room, which you certainly would neither of you have any reason to do were Li Min the guilty person? In spite of many of the peculiarities of Miss Temple's conduct, in spite of Major Temple's altercation with Mr. Ashton, I have been prepared to believe all along that Li Min was on this roof at or near daybreak yesterday morning and I do not mind telling you that I have discovered certain evidence--evidence which had before escaped me, that to my mind proves it conclusively--yet how he could have entered that room, murdered Mr.

Ashton, secured the jewel, climbed out of the window and shut and bolted it behind him on the inside is beyond my comprehension. It is not humanly possible--it simply cannot be." He shook his head and looked at me in a state of evident perplexity.

I felt unable to offer any suggestions of value, but I hazarded a question. "Have you searched the attic above the room?" I asked.

"Thoroughly," he replied. "The rafters have never been floored over. The lath and plaster of the ceiling are absolutely unbroken. As for the four walls, two of them are exterior walls, without openings, except the windows. One is the solid part.i.tion between the room and the hallway.

The fourth is equally solid, and of brick, between the green room and a large closet adjoining it to the east, which has evidently been used as a sort of lumber room, and contains a collection of old furniture, carpets, etc., covered with dust half an inch deep. The dust-covered floor and the rusty lock both show that it has not been entered for a long time. The furniture belongs to the owners of the property, and was evidently placed there years ago when the property was offered for leasing."

"Then it would seem that we have exhausted all possible clews," I observed. I did not think it worth while to take him into my confidence regarding Li Min, or the perfumed soap; and the bra.s.s-headed poker which I had found, and which I had placed in the drawer in my room, I had for the moment completely forgotten.

"So it seems," he remarked, thoughtfully. "This is by long odds the strangest case I have ever worked on. Possibly the two Chinamen we have in London may be able to throw some light upon it."

As we rounded the corner of the house, on our way to the front door, we suddenly saw Li Min dart out of the main entrance, closely pursued by the officer to whom I had entrusted my luggage. The Chinaman carried in his hand my Gladstone bag, and was running with incredible swiftness toward the road. Before I had time to make a move, McQuade darted forward and intercepted him, knocking from his hand with lightning-like quickness a long knife which he drew from his blouse. The two of them tumbled over upon the turf, McQuade rising first with my satchel in his hand. He looked at it, and seeing my name upon it handed it to me with a grim smile. "You must have a valuable kit here, Sir," he said, "or else this fellow has taken leave of his senses." He nodded to his a.s.sistant, who promptly stepped forward and snapped a pair of handcuffs upon the sullen-looking Oriental.

"The whole outfit isn't worth five pounds," I said, laughing, and picked up the satchel. As I did so the catch came open and my small collection of flannel shirts, toilet articles, sketching materials, etc., tumbled upon the gra.s.s. McQuade joined in my laugh, and a.s.sisted me in replacing my effects. "Nothing much here, Sir," he said, but I did not fail to notice that he observed each article closely as we repacked the satchel.

We drove back to town in the high cart, with one of Major Temple's grooms at the reins beside me, and Li Min and the Sergeant upon the rear seat. After depositing the Chinaman at the jail, we took a hurried lunch at the Half Moon, and left for London on the early afternoon express, arriving at Waterloo station about dusk. I gave McQuade the address of my lodgings and studio in Tottenham Court Road, and, as he intended reporting at once at Scotland Yard, I left him with the understanding that, if anything significant developed during his examination of the two Chinamen, he would advise me and call upon me if I could a.s.sist him in any way. I realized of course that I was purely an outsider, and in no position to expect the police to take me into their confidence, but on the other hand I was not only the most important witness in the case, but my keen interest in the solution of the mystery, for the purpose of clearing the names of both Miss Temple and her father from any vestige of suspicion, was not lost upon the Sergeant, and I think he realized that I might be of considerable a.s.sistance to him should the case take some unexpected turn. He hurried off in a hansom and I followed, stopping on my way at the Vienna Cafe for dinner. It was past eight when I arrived at my studio, and, throwing my bag into a corner I sat down and wrote a letter to my mother at Torquay, explaining to her my change of plans, although making no mention of the reasons which caused the change. I must have been unusually tired, owing to my early rise and the varied excitements of the day, for I dozed in my chair, and was not aroused until after eleven, when I heard a loud knock at the studio door. I sprang up, somewhat confused, and, opening the door, found under it an envelope containing a note, written on plain, rather cheap paper, in a somewhat irregular but legible hand. It was from McQuade, and requested me to meet him at once at Number 30, Kingsgate Street. There was nothing else in the note, so without further delay I threw on a warm coat and soft hat, and, hurrying to the street, summoned a cab. The driver looked a bit surprised at the address, and asked me to repeat it, which I did a bit sharply, then threw myself into the rear seat and lighted a cigarette. Events were moving quickly it seemed. McQuade, I felt sure would not have sent for me at this hour of the night unless some developments of importance had occurred. I rejoiced in the hope that the examination of the two Exeter Chinamen had resulted in the discovery of both the missing jewel and the murderer, and thought with pleasure of the expedition I should make on the morrow to The Oaks and the happy tidings I should bring to Muriel. I had thought of her so continuously, since leaving there, and felt so keenly the loss of her companionship, slight as it had so far been, that I knew that hereafter all roads, for me, would lead to Exeter until the day came when I might lead her from it as my wife. It was while occupied in these dreams that I felt my cab draw up alongside the curb, just as the hour of midnight was striking from Old St. Paul's. I dismissed my man with a shilling for his pains, and ascended the steps of Number 30.

The house was an old one, and its exterior was gloomy and forbidding.

Not a light shone in its closely shuttered windows, and only over the transom of the door was there any visible sign of occupants within. Here a faintly burning oil lamp shone behind a cobwebby gla.s.s, with the number of the house painted upon it in black. The whole atmosphere of the place was depressing in the extreme, and I pulled the bell with feelings of inward trepidation. Without, all was silent and deserted, and the starless sky and the sighing of wind through the gloomy streets, from which my cab had long since departed, but added to my presentiments of evil. I had heard the faint jangle of a bell in the interior of the house when I pulled the k.n.o.b, but so long an interval elapsed before any response came that I was on the point of ringing it again, when I suddenly heard soft footsteps in the hallway, and the door was silently opened. I stepped within, mechanically, unable to observe the person who had admitted me, owing to the fact that he or she, I knew not which, stood partially behind the door as it swung open and was therefore concealed by it. I had taken but a single step into the pa.s.sage, when the door was swiftly closed behind me, and at the same instant a bag of heavy cloth was thrust over my head, and my arms were pinioned from behind in a vise-like grip. I attempted an outcry, and struggled violently, but the bag was drawn closely about my throat by a noose in the edge of it, and I felt myself being slowly, but surely, strangled.

CHAPTER VII

IN THE TEMPLE OF BUDDHA

It was but a few moments after midnight, when I entered the house in Kingsgate Street, and it must have been nearly or quite an hour before I finally removed the bag from my head and realized the nature of my surroundings. Immediately after the attack upon me, I was lifted bodily by two or three silent figures, and carried a considerable distance, part of the way down a steep flight of stairs, and through what from its damp and musty smell might have been a tunnel or cellar. Presently I heard the opening of a heavy door, and in a moment I was thrown roughly upon a bench, and my pockets were systematically searched. My captors evidently were not looking for money for the only things they took from me were my keys. After this they left me, huddled up in a corner of the bench, afraid to cry out or make a move in any direction.