Gilbert now remained silent. He had given the enemy fair warning; and he was resolved from now on to “shoot first and talk afterward.” He was in the enemy’s territory, and he must consider every stranger an enemy until he proved himself a friend. The table was moving, and so was a portion of the floor. At first the table was shifted but the fraction of an inch. Then of a sudden it appeared to drop into space, as a trap-door opened to let it down. The disappearance of the feast table is a common thing in many Chinese houses of worship. So to have this trap-door there was nothing out of the ordinary. Had Gilbert been leaning on the table, as his unseen enemy had likely thought was the case, he must have been pitched headlong into the hole. But, as the table moved, the young lieutenant leaped back, and then to one side. So he still remained on the flooring above, although standing on a space scarcely a foot in width. As the table shot downward, Gilbert glanced into the hole, and by a faint light coming from a blue lantern, made out the ghost-like form of the Buddhist priest dressed in a combination of yellow and black, and carrying in one hand a long, curved sword. The face was not a crafty one, but, on the contrary, rather holy-looking; and this look kept the young officer from firing. The next instant the trap-door closed again, and all became as dark and silent as before. The look on the Buddhist’s face haunted Gilbert, and he could not get it out of his mind. Why should such a man wish to take his life? Surely, nature could not make a villain with such a countenance as that. “He must be a religious fanatic, and imagine that the sacrifice of my life is necessary,” he thought. And this was the exact truth. The old priest had been attached to the joss house for sixty years; and he believed that, if he could only mark the walls of the edifice with the blood of a military enemy slain in the building, before the idol of the god of construction, the building would be saved. Gilbert now resolved upon a bold movement, which was none other than to feel his way into the joss house proper. He felt that his position in the entry was known, and that a bullet from some unknown source might finish his life at any moment. He knew he was running a risk; but, on the whole, it looked safer to move than to remain where he was. With pistol in one hand and sword in the other, Gilbert passed from the entry to a wide archway, leading to a broad stone flooring. Here he came upon a series of seven steps, and his arm touched a large stone idol. There was something on the floor in front of the idol; and, as his foot pressed upon this, a tiny bell at a distance commenced to ring. The ringing of the bell was followed by a cry of alarm, and then a yell of rage. He heard the footsteps of the old Buddhist priest approaching.