"He finally took refuge from his imaginary pursuer at Wo Hong's. Here he drank repeatedly a fiery liquor which the proprietor, serenely untroubled by the revenue laws, dispensed to his pals for a trifle. When Ah Moy staggered into his den several hours later, Quong Lee, who had arrived on the scene, noted with much satisfaction the ghastly appearance of his friend. "'If he keeps this up for any length of time,' thought the learned man, 'I shall be spared the performance of a very unpleasant act. Murder is not in my line--now--anyway. It is trying work for an old man like me--and the police forever at one's heels!' "Leaving his associates in charge of the tables, Ah Moy wearily sought the adjoining room, a filthy, ill-lighted apartment, with rows of bunks along its sides. Opening a cupboard he drew forth a pipe and a small jar of opium. His stained fingers trembled violently as he rolled a much larger pill than usual and placed it in the bowl of his pipe. He had consumed a frightful quantity of the stuff in the past few days, and his nerves were in just the condition that required a larger amount than ever to quiet them. "He stretched himself at full length in the nearest bunk and proceeded to lull the awful fantasies which threatened his reason. With a moan he buried his face in his pillow; for at the end of the room he saw a grim phantom whom, he felt sure, the doubly accursed Quong Lee had maliciously admitted. The old man should pay dearly for this on the morrow! Ah Moy felt his fingers tightening convulsively around the throat of the dying Quong Lee; he could hear the croaking in his victim's wind-pipe, and the gruesome death-rattle! The sounds were all well known to the Chinaman, and recalled a chain of lurid experiences. "'I should have done it before,' he muttered, as in his fancy he kicked the body aside. "He grew calmer. There was a bright gleam of hope in the thought that with the death of Major Cragiemuir his wooing would be far less difficult. As to the girl returning his love--bah! Women were not consulted upon such matters--in China. He smiled, for he felt that his triumph was assured. "Radiant visions came to him. He was floating in space, wafted by perfumed breezes. Around him were lovely faces dimly outlined in circles of roseate clouds. Each face was Janet Cragiemuir's, and all smiled most bewitchingly at him. Showers of white and yellow blossoms fell at intervals, and the orchestra from the Imperial theatre at Pekin boomed lazily in the distance. "Happy, happy Ah Moy! "But the Chinaman, though a hardened smoker, had badly miscalculated matters, for when Quong Lee came in at daybreak to awaken him the 'Beautiful One' had been dead many hours!" * * * * *