he Eurasian he could not banish, and was
ever listening for the silvery voice, but in vain. He had no particular
duties, apart from the care of the six rooms known as Block A, and
situated in the corridor to the left of the cave of the golden dragon;
this, and the valeting of departing occupants. But the hours at which he
was called upon to perform these duties varied very greatly. Sometimes
he would attend to four human wrecks in the same morning; whilst,
perhaps on the following day, he would not be called upon to officiate
until late in the evening. One fact early became evident to him.
There was a ceaseless stream of these living dead men pouring into the
catacombs of Ho-Pin, coming he knew not whence, and issuing forth again,
he knew not whither.

Twice in the first week of his new and strange service he recognized the
occupants of the rooms as men whom he had seen in the upper world. On
entering the room of one of these (at ten o'clock at night) he almost
cried out in his surprise; for the limp, sallow-faced creature extended
upon the bed before him was none other than Sir Brian Malpas--the
brilliant politician whom his leaders had earmarked for office in the
next Cabinet!

As Soames stood contemplating him stretched there in his stupor,
he found it hard to credit the fact that this was the same man whom
political rivals feared for his hard brilliance, whom society courted,
and whose engagement to the daughter of a peer had been announced only a
few months before.

Throughout this time, Soames had made no attempt to seek the light of
day: he had not seen a newspaper; he knew nothing of the hue and cry
raised throughout England, of the hunt for the murderer of Mrs. Vernon.
He suffered principally from lack of companionship. The only human being
with whom he ever came in contact was Said, the Egyptian; and Said, at
best, was uncommunicative. A man of very limited intellect, Luke Soames
had been at a loss for many days to reconcile Block A and its temporary
occupants with any comprehensible scheme of things. Whereas some of
the rooms would be laden with nauseating fumes, others would be free of
these; the occupants, again, exhibited various symptoms.

That he was a servant of an opium-den de luxe did not for some time
become apparent to him; then, when first the theory presented itself, he
was staggered by a discovery so momentous.

But it satisfied his mind only partially. Some men whom he valeted might
have b