So they dined well, and wined moderately, and Theydon walked to Innesmore Mansions, thinking of little else in the world except of the moment when he held Evelyn Forbes in his arms, almost in an embrace, and he had dared, nearly, if not quite, to kiss her.

As he drew near Innesmore Mansions, however, be kept his wits about him.  One of the most remarkable features of a series of remarkable crimes was the thorough command of the resources of civilization exhibited by the Young Manchus.  A few days earlier he would not have dared to introduce into a story of his own an association composed exclusively of Chinamen which adapted to its needs the motor car, the messenger boy, perhaps the telephone and telegraph, to say nothing of the advertising columns of the daily press.

It was monstrous to imagine that a number of Orientals—­ marked men, every one, no matter what disguises they might adopt—­ should dare bid defiance to the forces of the British Constitution in order that they might wreak vengeance on those more enlightened compatriots who wished to see their country rescued from the effete control of a puppet Emperor.

But Theydon was now some days older and many degrees wiser.  He knew that the wildly improbable had become dogged fact, that Chinese fanaticism, tigerish in its crafty and utter cold-bloodedness, was setting at naught not only the ordinances of the law, but the brightest intellects whose duty it was to make that law respected.

It behooved him, therefore, to lend a sharp eye to his own safety, and never a vehicle or pedestrian came near while he traversed the quiet streets in the neighborhood of Innesmore Mansions that he did not give the closest attention to cab or wayfarer, as the case might be.

As it happened, that quarter of London was singularly deserted.  The first flight of people homeward-bound from the theaters was well over; the later contingent, supping in restaurants, had not begun to arrive.  Save for the slow-moving figure of a policeman the long front of the mansions themselves was devoid of life.

Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of relief that he turned the key in the lock of No. 18, and heard the scraping of a chair on the kitchen floor as Bates rose to meet him.

“Hello, Bates!” he cried wearily, “here I am again, you see!  Anything new or interesting during my absence?”

“Mrs. Paxton—­” began the valet, stopping when his master uttered a sharp exclamation.  Theydon had completely forgotten Miss Beale and his sister.

“Yes,” he said.  “Sorry I interrupted you.  What of Mrs. Paxton?”

“I saw her, sir, as you ordered, and she promised to call on Miss Beale.  She kem here about an hour ago—­”

“Who?  My sister?”

“Yes, sir.  She was anxious to see you.  From what I could gather, sir, the two ladies had bin puttin’ their heads together, and agreed that this Chinese business has a nasty look, an’ you’d better keep out of it.”