“During the next few days I considered very earnestly what measures I could take to avert the doom that seemed to be hanging over me.  The simplest plan, that of passing the pearl on to some other person, was out of the question; it would be nothing short of murder.  On the other hand, I could not wait for an answer to my letter; for even if I remained alive, I felt that my reason would have given way long before the reply reached me.  But while I was debating what I should do, the mandarin appeared to me again; and then, after an interval of only two days, he came to me once more.  That was last night.  I remained gazing at him, fascinated, with my flesh creeping, as he stood, lantern in hand, looking steadily in my face.  At last he held out his hand to me, as if asking me to give him the pearl; then the mirror darkened, and he vanished in a flash; and in the place where he had stood there was my own reflection looking at me out of the glass.

“That last visitation decided me.  When I left home this morning the pearl was in my pocket, and as I came over Waterloo Bridge, I leaned over the parapet and flung the thing into the water.  After that I felt quite relieved for a time; I had shaken the accursed thing off without involving anyone in the curse that it carried.  But presently I began to feel fresh misgivings, and the conviction has been growing upon me all day that I have done the wrong thing.  I have only placed it for ever beyond the reach of its owner, whereas I ought to have burnt it, after the Chinese fashion, so that its non-material essence could have joined the spiritual body of him to whom it had belonged when both were clothed with material substance.

“But it can’t be altered now.  For good or for evil, the thing is done, and God alone knows what the end of it will be.”

As he concluded, Calverley uttered a deep sigh, and covered his face with his slender, delicate hands.  For a space we were all silent and, I think, deeply moved; for, grotesquely unreal as the whole thing was, there was a pathos, and even a tragedy, in it that we all felt to be very real indeed.

Suddenly Mr. Brodribb started and looked at his watch.

“Good gracious, Calverley, we shall lose our train.”

The young man pulled himself together and stood up.  “We shall just do it if we go at once,” said he.  “Good-bye,” he added, shaking Thorndyke’s hand and mine.  “You have been very patient, and I have been rather prosy, I am afraid.  Come along, Mr. Brodribb.”

Thorndyke and I followed them out on to the landing, and I heard my colleague say to the solicitor in a low tone, but very earnestly:  “Get him away from that house, Brodribb, and don’t let him out of your sight for a moment.”

I did not catch the solicitor’s reply, if he made any, but when we were back in our room I noticed that Thorndyke was more agitated than I had ever seen him.

“I ought not to have let them go,” he exclaimed.  “Confound me!  If I had had a grain of wit, I should have made them lose their train.”