"for prison is life. But you will
hang at the end of a long rope."

He had lifted the pillow from Milburgh's face, and now that pallid man
was following every movement of the Chinaman with a fearful eye.
Presently Milburgh was stripped to the waist, and Ling Chu regarded his
handiwork complacently.

He went to a cupboard in the wall, and took out a small brown bottle,
which he placed on a table by the side of the bed. Then he himself sat
upon the edge of the bed and spoke. His English was almost perfect,
though now and again he hesitated in the choice of a word, and there were
moments when he was a little stilted in his speech, and more than a
little pedantic. He spoke slowly and with great deliberation.

"You do not know the Chinese people? You have not been or lived in China?
When I say lived I do not mean staying for a week at a good hotel in one
of the coast towns. Your Mr. Lyne lived in China in that way. It was not
a successful residence."

"I know nothing about Mr. Lyne," interrupted Milburgh, sensing that Ling
Chu in some way associated him with Thornton Lyne's misadventures.

"Good!" said Ling Chu, tapping the flat blade of his knife upon his palm.
"If you had lived in China--in the real China--you might have a dim idea
of our people and their characteristics. It is said that the Chinaman
does not fear death or pain, which is a slight exaggeration, because I
have known criminals who feared both."

His thin lips curved for a second in the ghost of a smile, as though at
some amusing recollection. Then he grew serious again.

"From the Western standpoint we are a primitive people. From our own
point of view we are rigidly honourable. Also--and this I would
emphasise." He did, in fact, emphasise his words to the terror of
Mr. Milburgh, with the point of his knife upon the other's broad chest,
though so lightly was the knife held that Milburgh felt nothing but the
slightest tingle.

"We do not set the same value upon the rights of the individual as do you
people in the West. For example," he explained carefully, "we are not
tender with our prisoners, if we think that by applying a little pressure
to them we can assist the process of justice."

"What do you mean?" asked Milburgh, a grisly thought dawning upon his
mind.

"In Britain--and in America too, I understand--though the Americans are
much more enlightened on this subject--when you arrest a member of a gang
you are content with cross-examining him