The tankards being refilled and my friend having sampled the contents of his own: 

“That ain’t all,” he continued.  “I thought I’d keep it as a sort of relic, like.  What ’appened?  I’ll tell you.  Amongst the crew there’s three Chinks—­see?  We ain’t through the canal before one of ’em, a new one to me—­Li Ping is his name—­offers me five bob for the pigtail, which he sees me looking at one mornin’.  I give him a punch on the nose an’ ’e don’t renew the offer:  but that night (we’re layin’ at Port Said) ‘e tries to pinch it!  I dam’ near broke his neck, and ’e don’t try any more.  To-night”—­he extended his right arm forensically—­“a deppitation of Chinks waits on me at the dock gates; they explains as from a patriotic point of view they feels it to be their dooty to buy that pigtail off of me, and they bids a quid, a bar of gold—­a Jimmy o’ Goblin!”

He snapped his fingers contemptuously and emptied his pewter.  A sense of what was coming began to dawn on me.  That the “hold-up” near the riverside formed part of the scheme was possible, and, reflecting on my rough treatment of the two Chinamen, I chuckled inwardly.  Possibly, however, the scheme had germinated in my acquaintance’s mind merely as a result of an otherwise common assault, of a kind not unusual in these parts, but, whether elaborate or comparatively simple, that the story of the pigtail was a “plant” designed to reach my pocket, seemed a reasonable hypothesis.

“I told him to go to China,” concluded the object of my suspicion, again rapping upon the counter, “and you see what come of it.  All I got to say is this:  If they’re so bloody patriotic, I says one thing:  I ain’t the man to stand in their way.  You done me a good turn to-night, mate; I’m doing you one.  ’Ere’s the bloody pigtail, ’ere’s my empty mug.  Fill the mug and the pigtail’s yours.  It’s good for a quid at the dock gates any day!”

My suspicions vanished; my interest arose to boiling point.  I refilled my acquaintance’s mug, pressed a sovereign upon him (in honesty I must confess that he was loath to take it), and departed with the pigtail coiled neatly in an inner pocket of my jacket.  I entered the house in Wade Street by the side door, and half an hour later let myself out by the front door, having cast off my dockland disguise.

II

HOW I LOST IT

It was not until the following evening that I found leisure to examine my strange acquisition, for affairs of more immediate importance engrossed my attention.  But at about ten o’clock I seated myself at my table, lighted the lamp, and taking out the pigtail from the table drawer, placed it on the blotting-pad and began to examine it with the greatest curiosity, for few Chinese affect the pigtail nowadays.

I had scarcely commenced my examination, however, when it was dramatically interrupted.  The door bell commenced to ring jerkily.  I stood up, and as I did so the ringing ceased and in its place came a muffled beating on the door.  I hurried into the passage as the bell commenced ringing again, and I had almost reached the door when once more the ringing ceased; but now I could hear a woman’s voice, low but agitated: