te effect. Here was a group squatting round a man
armed with a syringe--fatal germ-carrier--busily engaged in mixing the
cocaine and morphia. When the concoction had been prepared, one of the
customers turned up his sleeve to discover--if he could--a spot in
which to insert the needle; but there was not a place, even the size of
a pin's head, so he rolled up his _lungyi_ and searched for a site on
his thigh; then the needle was produced, its contents were pumped in,
and the man made room for the next victim. This performance held
Shafto with a sort of hideous fascination; the crowd appeared to be
entirely insensible to his presence and only alive to the enjoyment
awaiting them.

At the far end of the room was an iron-bound enclosure, behind which
sat a wily and inscrutable Chinaman who, having received a formal
notice that this visit was "safe and unofficial," obligingly exhibited
his scales and small packets of drugs--wares to bring rich delights to
the narcotised--which he disposed of in infinitesimal quantities, at
from four to six annas a dose.

Sprawling about on filthy rush mats were numerous Chinese, Burmese and
Indians; also a few women of the lowest class, each and all sunken in
the various stages of an ecstatic slumber.

As FitzGerald was now engaged in whispered conference with a
pock-marked Malay (who was awaiting his turn), Shafto stood back
against the wall, a completely detached figure, acutely sensible of the
chill horror of this unknown sphere--the so-called "underworld."

He noticed that one or two customers sat round covetously watching the
operation of the syringe--not having the money with which to indulge
themselves; he also observed several who appeared to be in the last
stage of their existence--thin to emaciation, mere wrecks, like
half-dead flies, scarcely able to crawl about the floor.

Quite in the shadow, he caught sight of a tall figure in European
clothes, who was, like himself, an impassive spectator, and, with a
start, he recognised Roscoe's cousin. To-night he appeared cleaner and
more human; he had shaved recently, and there was an undeniable family
likeness between him and his relative--such a resemblance as may exist
between a dead and broken branch and one still flourishing upon a
healthy tree. On this occasion he was evidently not ashamed to be seen
and recognised, for he nodded to Shafto, then crossed the room and
joined him.

"Ah, so you've not taken a pull at yoursel