'The English have the English ways,' he said, 'and we have ours--yes, though many of my foolish countrymen are in haste to be the same as the English are. We have our beliefs, and we have our knowledge, and I tell you that there are things which you would call superstition, but which are very real! Our old gods are not all dead yet, I tell you! In the old times no man would wear or keep another man's sword. Why? Because the great sword has a soul just as a man has, and it knows and the gods know! No man kept another's sword who did not fall into terrible misfortune and death, sooner or later. Give me my father's _katana_ and save yourself. My father weeps in my ears at night, and I must bring him his _katana!_' I was talking to poor Deacon, as I told you, only on Tuesday afternoon, and he told me that Kanamaro had been there again the day before, in a frantic state--so bad, indeed, that Deacon thought of applying to the Japanese legation to have him taken care of, for he seemed quite mad. 'Mind, you foolish man!' he said. 'My gods still live, and they are strong! My father wanders on the dark path and cannot go to his gods without the swords in his girdle. His father asks of his vow! Between here and Japan there is a great sea, but my father may walk even here, looking for his _katana_, and he is angry! I go away for a little. But my gods know, and my father knows!' And then he took himself off. And now"--Mr. Colson nodded towards the next room and dropped his voice--"now poor Deacon is dead and the sword is gone!" [Illustration: "GIVE ME MY FATHER'S KATANA, AND SAVE YOURSELF."] "Kanamaro has not been seen about the place, I suppose, since the visit you speak of, on Monday?" Dorrington asked. "No. And I particularly asked as to yesterday morning. The hall-porter swears that no Japanese came to the place." "As to the letters, now. You say that when Mr. Deacon came back, after having left, apparently to get his lunch, he said he came for forgotten letters. Were any such letters afterwards found?" "Yes--there were three, lying on this very table, stamped ready for postage." "Where are they now?" "I have them at my chambers. I opened them in the presence of the police in charge of the case. There was nothing very important about them--appointments and so forth, merely--and so the police left them in my charge, as executor." "Nevertheless I should like to see them. Not just now, but presently. I think I must see this man presently--the man who was painting in the basement below the window that is supposed to have been shut by the murderer in his escape. That is if the police haven't frightened him." "Very well, we'll see after him as soon as you like. There was just one other thing--rather a curious coincidence, though of course there can't be anything in such a superstitious fancy--but I think I told you that Deacon's body was found lying at the feet of the four-handed god in the other room?" "Yes."