Ho-Pin passed on.

Soames heaved a gentle sigh of relief.  The painful incident was forgotten, then.  He hurried into the room, the door of which Said was holding open, quite eager for his unsavory work.

In crossing its threshold, he crossed out of his new peace into a mental turmoil greater in its complexities than any he yet had known; he met M. Gaston Max, and his vague doubts respecting the omniscience of Mr. King were suddenly reinforced.

Soames’ perturbation was so great on that occasion that he feared it must unfailingly be noticed.  He realized that now he was definitely in communication with the enemies of Mr. King!  Ah; but Mr. King did not know how formidable was the armament of those enemies!  He (Soames) had overrated Mr. King; and because that invisible being could inspire Fear in an inconceivable degree, he had thought him all-powerful.  Now, he realized that Mr. King was unaware of the existence of at least one clue held by the police; was unaware that his name was associated with the Palace Mansions murder.

The catacombs of Ho-Pin were a sinking ship, and Soames was first of the rats to leave.

He kept his appointment at the “Three Nuns” as has appeared; he accepted the blood-money that was offered him, and he returned to the garage adjoining Kan-Suh Concessions, that night, hugging in his bosom a leather case containing implements by means whereof his new accomplice designed to admit the police to the cave of the golden dragon.

Also, in the pocket of his overcoat, he had a neat Browning pistol; and when the door at the back of the garage was opened for him by Said, he found that the touch of this little weapon sent a thrill of assurance through him, and he began to conceive a sentiment for the unknown investigator to whom he was bound, akin to that which formerly he had cherished for Mr. King!

Now the time was come.

The people of the catacombs acquired a super-sensitive power of hearing, and Soames was able at this time to detect, as he sat or lay in his own room, the movements of persons in the corridor outside and even in the cave of the golden dragon.  That mysterious trap in the wall gave him many qualms, and to-night he had glanced at it a thousand times.  He held the pistol in his hand, and buttoned up within his coat was the leather case.  Only remained the opening of his door in order to learn if the lights were extinguished in the corridor.

He did not anticipate any serious difficulty, provided he could overcome his constitutional nervousness.  In his waistcoat pocket was a brand new Yale key which, his latest employer had assured him, fitted the lock of the end door of Block A. The door between the cave of the dragon and Block A was never locked, so far as Soames was aware, nor was that opening from the corridor in which his own room was situated.  Therefore, only a few moments—­fearful moments, certainly—­need intervene, ere he should have a companion; and within a few minutes of that time, the police—­his friends!—­would be there to protect him!  He recognized that the law, after all, was omnipotent, and of all masters was the master to be served.