“Look!” said Talham’s voice explosively. Tillizinni followed the direction of the pointing finger. The bottom of the bureau was formed by one huge drawer, the width and depth of the massive piece of furniture and some eighteen inches high. From one corner bright red drops were dripping and forming a little pool on the carpet. The two men grasped the bronze handles of the drawer and pulled. The body of a man lay in the bottom. He was doubled up so that his knees were under his chin. He had been shot evidently from behind, and was quite dead. “Do you know him?” asked Tillizinni. Talham nodded. “He called himself the ‘Star above the Yamen,’” he said, “and I had an interesting talk with him this afternoon.” For this poor, inanimate thing had been the spokesman of Hyde Park. CHAPTER III. INTRODUCES MR. SOO. It was a busy night for Captain Talham. The clocks were striking three when he hailed a taxi-cab. Tillizinni joined him as he stood on the edge of the pavement, and the two conversed together for some time. Then they entered a cab, and drove off. The man who watched them from the opposite side of the road followed. His car waited in a side street at no great distance, and it was a car which readily overtook the cab which carried the two men eastward. They passed through the stone archway of Scotland Yard, and the pursuing car continued its way along the Embankment, and in obedience to the instructions given through the speaking tube, slowed in Horse Guards Avenue to allow the occupant to alight. He was dressed irreproachably in the evening dress of civilisation, and carried himself with ease and confidence. He walked back the way the car had come, turned into Scotland Yard without hesitation, and found the constable on duty very ready to carry a message to Tillizinni. The Italian received him alone, and the visitor favoured him with a ceremonious bow. Tillizinni took him in from foot to crown in one sweeping and comprehensive bow. The newcomer was unquestionably Chinese, though he did not wear a _queue_ which distinguished the Manchu before the rebellion. His face was good-looking for a Chinaman, his features clean-cut, his eyes alone betrayed his nationality. His lips, straight and thin, were expressionless, and Tillizinni noticed that this strange man, dressed in the height of fashion, yet with the restraint which marked the gentleman, wore in one eye a gold-rimmed monocle. When he spoke there was no trace of a foreign accent. “Mr. Tillizinni?” he said, and the other nodded. “My name is Soo--L’ang T’si Soo--and I am, as you may suppose, a compatriot of the unfortunate man who was murdered to-night.” Tillizinni nodded again. “I know the Prince slightly,” said Soo, as he seated himself, “and naturally I am distressed at the tragic news.” “News travels very fast,” responded Tillizinni dryly. “The Ambassador has not been dead very long.” Soo inclined his head easily.