ely. She had heard it one
night before, and quite recently; indeed, on the night before she had
met John Hampden. Cohen--Cohen, the Jew, had died that night!

She sprang lightly on to the floor, found her slippers, and threw a silk
kimono over her nightrobe. She tiptoed cautiously to the door and opened
it.

It was at this very moment that old Huang Chow, asleep in his cell-like
apartment, was aroused by the tinkling of a bell set immediately above
his head. He awoke instantly, raised his hand and stopped the bell.
His expression, could anyone have been present to see it, was a thing
unpleasant to behold. Triumph was in it, and cunning cruelty.

His long yellow fingers reached out for his hornrimmed spectacles
which lay upon a little table beside him. Adjusting them, he pulled the
curtains aside and shuffled silently across the large room.

Mounting the steps to the raised writing-table, he rested his elbows
upon it, and peered down at that curious blotting-pad which had so
provoked the curiosity of Durham. Could Durham have seen it now the
mystery must have been solved. It was an ingenious camera obscura
apparatus, and dimly depicted upon its surface appeared a reproduction
of part of the storehouse beneath! The part of it which was visible
was that touched by the light of an electric torch, carried by a man
crossing the floor in the direction of the lacquered coffin upon the
gilded pedestal!

Old Huang Chow chuckled silently, and his yellow fingers clutched the
table edge as he moved to peer more closely into the picture.

"Poor fool!" he whispered in Chinese. "Poor fool!"

It was the man who had come with the introduction from Mr. Isaacs--a new
impostor who sought to rob him, who sought to obtain information from
his daughter, who had examined his premises last night, and had even
penetrated upstairs, so that he, old Huang Chow, had been compelled to
disconnect the apparatus and to feign sleep under the scrutiny of the
intruder.

To-night it would be otherwise. To-night it would be otherwise.

X

THE LACQUERED COFFIN

Durham gently raised the trap in the roof of Huang Chow's
treasure-house. He was prepared for snares and pitfalls. No sane man, on
the evidence which he, Durham, had been compelled to leave behind, would
have neglected to fasten the skylight which so obviously afforded a
means of entrance into his premises.

Therefore, he was expected to return. The devilish mechanism was set
r