“These men are my friends.  The others are inside.  They are quite safe.  Kindly wait till one o’clock.”

“I must understand what you mean, Mr. Li Chang,” said Winter sternly; for some reason, he distrusted the smooth-spoken jute merchant.  “Why have you visited these two houses, and not 412?  And what do we gain by waiting here any longer?  We must have been seen, and our purpose guessed.”

“No,” came the somewhat surprising answer.  “No one in No. 412 is aware of your presence.  We have taken care of that.  As for the other houses, they provide the simplest means of access to the center one.  Doorways have been made in the cellar walls and special staircases built.  Consequently, if you broke open the door of 412 you would find the way barred by two other locked doors, while the occupants, if aroused, could escape from either or both of the next houses.  We Chinese have a long acquaintance with the needs of a secret society.  You may take it from me that the obvious way into or out of an opium den, for instance, is never the way used by the habitues.”

By this time the commissioner, Handyside, Furneaux and the inspector had come up, and the five formed a little group in the center of a semicircle of detectives and police.  There was absolutely no sign of life in any of the houses; save for the raiders and the stolid Orientals, the street itself was deserted.  Many eyes, no doubt, were peering through darkened windows, but the denizens of Charlotte Street as a rule attend strictly to their own personal affairs when the police are in evidence.

“What do you advise, sire” said Winter, addressing the commissioner.  “Mr. Li Chang wants us to make no move until one o’clock.  It is only a matter of six or seven minutes.”

“And what then?  Are we to enter these other houses, and not No. 412?”

“Yes,” said the Chinaman.

“Have you left the doors open?”

“No.  They must be forced.  But there are only small locks.  The bolts are drawn.”

“The places are apparently in complete darkness.  My men must use their lamps, and may be attacked.”

“No,” said Li Chang simply.  “There will be no fighting.  Those Manchu dogs are helpless.  We have seen to that.”

“But how?  Do you mean that they are stupefied?”

“Bound,” said the Chinaman.  “Tied hand and foot.”

“Again then, may I ask, why wait?”

“It will be in order,” was the calm reply.  “I entered into an arrangement with you.  I want to abide by it.”

Winter breathed heavily.  The ways of the Oriental were not his ways, but a bargain was a bargain, so what more could be said?

Suddenly, about two minutes to one o’clock, a curious crackling noise was heard, a column of sparks burst high above the steep roof of No. 412, and the upper windows of the opposite houses reflected a red glare.

“Good heavens! the place is on fire!” cried Winter.