But before he could step onto the first stair, I halted him; for, flesh crawling, I began dimly to understand something of what had happened--I began to understand the silence in the tunnel, the absence of the detectives, the screams I had heard some minutes previously while I lay on the altar. Examining the lever which opened the door, I found another smaller lever--I began to believe I knew what those mysterious chests in the tunnel contained. "Gordon," I said hoarsely, "have you an electric torch?" One of the men produced a large one. "Direct the light into the tunnel, but as you value your life, do not put a foot upon the steps." The beam of light struck through the shadows, lighting the tunnel, etching out boldly a scene that will haunt my brain all the rest of my life. On the floor of the tunnel, between the chests which now gaped open, lay two men who were members of London's finest secret service. Limbs twisted and faces horribly distorted they lay, and above and about them writhed, in long glittering scaly shimmerings, scores of hideous reptiles. The clock struck five. _13. The Blind Beggar Who Rode_ "He seemed a beggar such as lags Looking for crusts and ale." --Chesterton. The cold gray dawn was stealing over the river as we stood in the deserted bar of the Temple of Dreams. Gordon was questioning the two men who had remained on guard outside the building while their unfortunate companions went in to explore the tunnel. "As soon as we heard the whistle, sir, Leary and Murken rushed the bar and broke into the opium room, while we waited here at the bar door according to orders. Right away several ragged dopers came tumbling out and we grabbed them. But no one else came out and we heard nothing from Leary and Murken; so we just waited until you came, sir." "You saw nothing of a giant negro, or of the Chinaman Yun Shatu?" "No, sir. After a while the patrolmen arrived and we threw a cordon around the house, but no one was seen." Gordon shrugged his shoulders; a few cursory questions had satisfied him that the captives were harmless addicts and he had them released. "You are sure no one else came out?" "Yes, sir--no, wait a moment. A wretched old blind beggar did come out, all rags and dirt and with a ragged girl leading him. We stopped him but didn't hold him--a wretch like that couldn't be harmful." "No?" Gordon jerked out. "Which way did he go?" "The girl led him down the street to the next block and then an automobile stopped and they got in and drove off, sir." Gordon glared at him. "The stupidity of the London detective has rightfully become an international jest," he said acidly. "No doubt it never occurred to you as being strange that a Limehouse beggar should ride about in his own automobile." Then impatiently waving aside the man, who sought to speak further, he turned to me and I saw the lines of weariness beneath his eyes.