“no,” said lala, “we have never had robbers in the house.” she looked up at durham naively. “you are not a thief, are you?” she asked.

“no, i assure you i am not,” he answered, and felt himself flushing to the roots of his hair.

they were seated in a teashop patronized by the workers of the district; and as durham, his elbows resting on the marble-topped table, looked into the dark eyes of his companion, he told himself again that whatever might be the secrets of old huang chow, his daughter did not share them.

the chinaman had made no report to the authorities, although the piled up furniture beneath the skylight must have afforded conclusive evidence that a burglarious entry had been made into the premises.

“i should feel very nervous,” durham declared, “with all those valuables in the house.”

“i feel nervous about my father,” the girl answered in a low voice. “his room opens out of the warehouse, but mine is shut away in another part of the building. and ah fu sleeps behind the office.”

“were you not afraid when you suspected that cohen was a burglar? you told me yourself that you did suspect him.”

“yes, i spoke to my father about it.”

“and what did he say?”

“oh”—she shrugged her shoulders—“he just smiled and told me not to worry.”

“and that was the last you heard about the matter?”

“yes, until you told me he was dead.”

again he questioned the dark eyes and again was baffled. he felt tempted, and not for the first time, to throw up the case. after all, it rested upon very slender data—the mysterious death of a chinaman whose history was unknown and the story of a crook whose word was worth nothing.

finally he asked himself, as he had asked himself before, what did it matter? if old huang chow had disposed of these people in some strange manner, they had sought to rob him. the morality of the case was complicated and obscure, and more and more he was falling under the spell of lala's dark eyes.

but always it was his professional pride which came to the rescue. murder had been done, whether justifiably or otherwise, and to him had been entrusted the discovery of the murderer. it seemed that failure was to be his lot, for if lala knew anything she was a most consummate actress, and if she did not, his last hope of information was gone.

he would have liked nothing better than to be rid of the affair, provided he could throw up the case with a clear conscience. but when presently he parted from the attractive eurasian, and watched her slim figure as, turning, she waved her hand and disappeared round a corner, he knew that rest was not for him.

he had discovered the emporium of a shadwell live-stock dealer with whom ah fu had a standing order for newly fledged birds of all descriptions. purchases apparently were always made after dusk, and ah fu with his birdcage was due that evening.

a scheme having suggested itself to durham, he now proceeded to put it into execution, so that when dusk came, and ah fu, carrying an empty birdcage, set out from the house of huang chow, a very dirty-looking loafer passed the corner of the street at about the time that the chinaman came slinking out.

durham had mentally calculated that ah fu would be gone about half an hour upon his mysterious errand, but the chinaman travelled faster than he had calculated.

just as he was about to climb up once more on to the sloping roof, he heard the pattering footsteps returning to the courtyard, although rather less than twenty minutes had elapsed since the man had set out.

durham darted round the corner and waited until he heard the door closed; then, returning, he scrambled up on to the roof, creeping forward until he was lying looking down through the skylight into the darkened room below.

for ten minutes or more he waited, until he began to feel cramped and uncomfortable. then that happened which he had hoped and anticipated would happen. the place beneath became illuminated, not fully, by means of the hanging lamps, but dimly so that distorted shadows were cast about the floor. someone had entered carrying a lantern.

durham's view-point limited his area of vision, but presently, as the light came nearer and nearer, he discerned ah fu, carrying a lantern in one hand and a birdcage in the other. he could hear nothing, for the trap fitted well and the glass was thick. moreover, it was very dirty. he was afraid, however, to attempt to clean a space.

ah fu apparently had set the lantern upon a table, and into the radius of its light there presently moved a stooping figure. durham recognized huang chow, and felt his heart beats increasing in rapidity.

clutching the framework of the trap with his hands, he moved his head cautiously, so that presently he was enabled to see the two chinamen. they were standing beside the lacquered coffin upon its dragon-legged pedestal. durham stifled an exclamation.

one end of the ornate sarcophagus had been opened in some way!

now, to the watcher's unbounded astonishment, ah fu placed the birdcage in the opening, and apparently reclosed the trap in the end of the coffin. he made other manipulations with his bony yellow fingers, which durham failed to comprehend. finally the birdcage was withdrawn again, and as it was passed before the light of the lantern he saw that it was empty, whereas previously it had contained a number of tiny birds all huddled up together!

the light gleamed upon the spectacles of huang chow. watching him, durham saw him take out from a hidden drawer in the pedestal a long, slender key, insert it in a lock concealed by the ornate carving, and then slightly raise the lid which had so recently defied his own efforts.

he raised it only a few inches, and then, taking up the lantern, peered into the interior of the coffin, at the same time waving his hand in dismissal to ah fu. for a while he stood there, peering into the interior, and then, lowering the lid again, he relocked this gruesome receptacle and, lantern in hand, began to mount the stair.

durham inhaled deeply. he realized that during the last few seconds he had been holding his breath. now, as he began to creep back down the slope, he discovered that his hands were shaking.

he dropped down into the court again, and for several minutes leaned against the wall, endeavouring to reason out an explanation of what he had seen, and in a measure to regain his composure.

there was a horror underlying it all which he was half afraid to face. but the real clue to the mystery still eluded him.

whether what he had witnessed were some kind of obscene ceremony, or whether an explanation more vile must be sought, he remained undetermined. he must repeat his exploit, if possible, and once more gain access to the room which contained the lacquer coffin.

but the adventure was very distasteful. he recollected the smell of the place, and the memory brought with it a sense of nausea. he thought of lala huang, and his ideas became grotesque and chaotic. yet the solution of the mystery lay at last within his grasp, and to the zest of the investigator everything else became subjugated.

he walked slowly away, silent in his rubber-soled shoes.