“‘That I do not believe,’ he said. ‘The people who killed his Excellency probably travelled all the way from China, and are now, possibly, on their way back again. They had no other object but his destruction, and if they stole documents, they were documents associated with the Prince’s campaign to suppress the societies affected.’ “It may be remarked,” continued the enterprising journal, “that such is the abhorrence in which the crime is held by every Chinaman, that numerous offers of help have come to this paper from Chinese citizens who desire to assist in the search for the miscreant. It may be said that the interpreter who accompanied our representative was one of these. It was through his instrumentality that the interview with Mr. Soo was secured. “With extraordinary modesty, he disappeared as soon as the interview was concluded, and has since not been in this office.” Whilst the contents bills of _The Evening Megaphone_ were flaring the question at every street corner: “Was Ambassador Killed by Secret Society?” Soo himself was interviewing the interpreter whose enterprise and modesty the journal was at the moment praising. He was interviewing him in a little room, the smallest in the suite he occupied, and he was assisted in the process by three compatriots, who gazed impassively on a Chinaman, a little less impassive, stretched upon a small iron bed, his wrists strapped to the bed head, his feet spreadeagled and strapped to its sides. Soo sat on a chair smoking his inevitable cigarette, with his inevitable monocle glued in his eye, watching the man with interest. “First,” he said, “you shall tell me why you came here, who sent you, and what you desired.” “Lord,” gasped the man on the bed, “I have told you everything; by my Father’s grace I have nothing more to say.” His face was drawn and haggard, beads of perspiration stood upon his shaven skull, and terror was in his eyes. “You shall tell me,” repeated the other calmly, “who sent you, why you came, and what you were told to do.” He nodded to the man who sat nonchalantly smoking a pipe by the side of the captive’s bed. The man leant over and made a half turn of the screw upon a weird-shaped contrivance which enclosed the prisoner’s fingers. The man suppressed a shriek with reason, for over him leant a second Chinaman ready to thrust a gag in his mouth. “You shall tell me,” said Soo monotonously, “why you came, who sent you here, and your business.” “Lord,” whispered the man, “I will tell you all I know.” Soo nodded to the torturer, and he loosened the screw on the other’s finger. “Give him water,” said Soo, and the attendant with the gag put a cup to the other’s lips. He drank greedily. “Lord, I was sent by my society, which, as your Excellency knows, is the society of the ‘Banner Bearers of Heaven.’” Soo nodded. “They desired to discover how your Lordship felt in this matter.” “To whom were you to report?” asked Soo.