It continued until it came to a street which ran parallel with the north bank of the Surrey Canal, and into this it turned. It was a street made up of wharf entrances, of old and dilapidated warehouses and stables. The car stopped before a low-roofed old building that in its prosperous days had been part of the wharfage of a stone merchant. As the car stopped, a door in the wall opened, and Soo flung away the cigarette which he had smoked during the latter part of the journey, stepped quickly to the ground, and half dragged and half carried the fainting girl into the building. Instantly the car moved on, and the door closed behind her. They were in complete darkness. There was a musty, unwholesome smell. The atmosphere of the place filled her with cold terror. “This way!” said Soo. He led her unerringly across the ramshackle shed. At the far end there was a door which opened and revealed a room lit by two swinging oil lamps. It was poorly furnished, with a table and a couple of chairs, and a fire blazed in a broken grate in one corner. Some attempt had been made to produce a sense of comfort--the square of carpet on the floor, and the plain table-cover had evidently been newly purchased and still showed their shop creases. The room was untenanted, and Soo and the girl entered alone. He closed the door behind him. She saw now a man in the garb of a Westerner, whose face was hidden from her by a curious contrivance. This was no less than a waxen mask, which fitted the upper portion of the face down to the mouth. So skilfully and cunningly had the colours been blended, that it was difficult to see where the real ended and the artificial began. It gave the man a European appearance, and made him tolerably good-looking. He locked the door, then turned and faced her. “You stay here, Miss Yale,” he said, “until I secure satisfaction from your friend. This,” he explained, waving his hand round the apartment, “was once the manager’s quarters. It is fitted with some luxury.” He opened a little door. “There is a bathroom here,” he said, “and you will find everything you may desire.” “How long do you intend to keep me?” she asked. It was the first coherent question she had put to him. He shrugged his shoulders. “That depends entirely upon the willingness of your friend to give me what I wish,” he answered. “You know you are committing a very grave crime,” she said, “and that you will be punished for this?” She saw a smile gather on the thin lips. “I have a much more extensive knowledge of the criminal law of England than you can be expected to have,” he said coolly. “I am well aware of all the risks I take; but since I am prepared to take the additional, and to you, perhaps, unthinkable, risk of losing my life, the minor perils need not be counted.” Without another word he left her. She waited until the sound of his footsteps had died away; then she made a quick examination of the two rooms.