“It is quite impossible for you to come,” he went on. “There are all sorts of dangers to be encountered. This is my last expedition.” The young man reached out and took a few grapes from the silver centre-piece, and ate them thoughtfully. “I am very fond of you,” he said suddenly. The old man did not conceal his pleasure. “I think,” he said softly, “that that is a mutual fondness.” The boy rose after a while and looked at his watch. “I suppose I had better go along and invent some lie,” he said. “Anyway, the dinner will be nearly finished, and I shall be in time for whatever fun there is going after.” His father accompanied him to the door, and watched the disappearing tail-light of the taxi; then he returned to his study. He spent an hour poring over the translation of the document which was now in Tillizinni’s hands. Had he but the jade bracelet, how easy might it be; but he had enough to work on. Some of the references puzzled him. What were the “spirit steps,” for instance; and what of these gigantic cross-bows which were to discharge titanic arrows at the intruder? Possibly two thousand years of rust and decay would have robbed them of their potency. He picked up some newspaper cuttings dealing with Soo, and smiled, as again and again he came across the phrase which spoke of the “bottling up” of the fugitive. Very well; had these clever English policemen bottled up a man who was now in America, he thought. He tidied away his documents, and was slipping a rubber band around one little dossier when he stopped, and raised his head, listening. It was the faintest sound, a tiny, hushed, buzz from one corner of the room. Now there was only one noise like this in the world that he knew. It was the sound of the secret buzzer which he had had installed communicating with a tiny push near the area door. It had been specially put in to allow his confederates to signal their presence when his servants were out, as they invariably were when visitors of this kind arrived. Who could it be? He took from his desk a revolver, and made his way noiselessly downstairs to the little hallway which led from the area to the servants’ domain. He crept to the door and listened; there was no sound. The bolts were always kept well oiled. He slipped them back noiselessly and opened the door. Two men were standing there--two small men who made no sound. “Come in!” he said; but still they made no sign. Then he knew that they were Chinese. “Come in!” he said again, addressing them in their own language. He waited until they had closed the door behind, and turning on the electric switch, he flooded the passage with light. “You!” he gasped.