He turned to Melky when the girl, still looking unwilling, had gone away upstairs, and gave him a nudge of the elbow. "When we get up there--as we shall," whispered Ayscough, "you watch this Jap chap while I talk to him. Study his face--and see if anything surprises him." "Biggest order, mister--with a Jap!" muttered Melky. "Might as well tell me to watch a stone image--their faces is like wood!" "Try it!" said Ayscough. "Flicker of an eyelid--twist of the lip--anything! Here's the girl back again." A moment later Melky, treading close on the detective's heels, found himself ushered into a brilliantly-lighted, rather over-heated room, somewhat luxuriously furnished, wherein, in the easiest of chairs, a cigar in his lips, a yellow-backed novel in his hand, sat a slimly-built, elegant young gentleman whose face was melting to a smile. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE MR. MORI YADA Ayscough was on his guard as soon as he saw that smile. He had had some experience of various national characteristics in his time, and he knew that when an Eastern meets you with a frank and smiling countenance you had better keep all your wits about you. He began the exercise of his own with a polite bow--while executing it, he took a rapid inventory of Mr. Mori Yada. About--as near as he could judge--two or three and twenty; a black-haired, black-eyed young gentleman; evidently fastidious about his English clothes, his English linen, his English ties, smart socks, and shoes--a good deal of a dandy, in short--and, judging from his surroundings, very fond of English comfort--and not averse to the English custom of taking a little spirituous refreshment with his tobacco. A decanter stood on the table at his elbow; a syphon of mineral water reared itself close by; a tumbler was within reach of Mr. Yada's slender yellowish fingers. "Servant, sir!" said Ayscough. "Detective Sergeant Ayscough of the Criminal Investigation Department--friend of mine, this, sir, Mr. Yada, I believe--Mr. Mori Yada?" Mr. Yada smiled again, and without rising, indicated two chairs. "Oh, yes!" he said in excellent English accents. "Pleased to see you--will you take a chair--and your friend! You want to talk to me?" Ayscough sat down and unbuttoned his overcoat. "Much obliged, sir," he said. "Yes--the fact is, Mr. Yada, I called to see you on a highly important matter that's arisen. Your name, sir, was given to me tonight by one of the junior house-surgeons at the hospital up the street--Dr. Pittery." "Oh, yes, Dr. Pittery--I know," agreed Yada. "Yes?" "Dr. Pittery tells me, sir," continued Ayscough, "that you know two Chinese gentlemen who are fellow-students of yours at the hospital, Mr. Yada?" The Japanese bowed his dark head and blew out a mouthful of smoke from his cigar. "Yes!" he answered readily, "Mr. Chang Li--Mr. Chen Li. Oh, yes!"