“Are you joking?” said Theydon, genuinely astounded.

“Do I look it?” And, indeed, the detective did not.  “Winter has just settled that program with Mr. Forbes.  You see, you’re in this affair now, neck and crop, and it’s easier for us to safeguard one place than two.  You’re pleased, aren’t you?  Doesn’t a pretty girl live there?”

“Sir,” said Handyside, “he’s tickled to death, and that’s a fact.  I’m the only one to make a kick.  I kind of reckoned on being allowed to play a walking-on part in this drama, but I look like being cut out in the new shuffle.”

“I can make use of you,” said Furneaux promptly.  “You’ve seen Wong Li Fu, and would know him again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you can tell a Japanese from a Chinaman at sight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.  You’re enrolled.  Next thing you’ll be receiving an ivory skull, too.  These beggars are the smartest crowd I’ve come across in twenty years.  I think they would have beaten us if it hadn’t happened that Mr. Theydon and you, each of you strangers to the Forbes family, were selected by fate to intervene at psychological moments.  The Young Manchus and their allies had the ground surveyed thoroughly.  They even had us of the Yard marked down.  Oh, it’s a plot and a half, I can assure you, and the worst thing is that the real struggle is yet ahead.  All that has happened before is mere skirmishing compared with what’s to come.”

“Is that why you covered up your tracks, even in this hotel, before you came to my room?” inquired Handyside.

“It is, and let me tell you that you’re a living example of a contradiction in terms.  You use your brains, Mr. Handyside, yet you smoke a cigar calculated to atrophy the keenest intellect.  You, an American, chewing a vile Burmese Cheroot!  Cre’ nom d’un pipe!  When this bubble has burst I must reason with you!”

CHAPTER XIV

 Wherein Theydon suffers from faint heart

Furneaux, with that phenomenally clear mind of his, had perceived and expressed in one trenchant sentence the outstanding and almost unique feature of the tragic mystery which centered around the death of Edith Lester.  Theydon’s connection with either international finance or the rebirth of China was remote as that of the man in the moon.  Yet he had been pitchforked by fate into an active and, indeed, dominating influence over those phases of both undertakings which were peculiar to London.

Theydon mused on this element in an unprecedented situation as he sat in the taxicab which bore him swiftly to Innesmore Mansions.  Another quite abnormal condition was the ignorance of London with regard to the fierce struggle now being waged in its midst.

On the one hand, a few Oriental fanatics—­ most of whom were probably less swayed by racial enthusiasm than by good payment for services rendered—­ were carrying out the orders of a master criminal with a sublime indifference to the laws framed by the “foreign devils” whom they despised; on the other were ranged the three members of the Forbes family and Theydon himself, supported by the forces of the Crown, it was true, but singularly isolated from the knowledge and sympathy of their fellow-citizens.