“It’s quicksilver all right,” he said. At the far end of the room was a great block of polished black stone, and upon this rested a stone coffin. The pedestal was reached by three steps, but the steps were indistinguishable. They were covered with rags, and, as it seemed, little pieces of white, glittering wood. Talham surveyed them reverently. These, then, were the unfortunate creatures of joy, who had gone down to death with their lord. He made a rapid survey of the great stone room. At either side he saw a square pit, and flashed a light down upon the white gems that still glittered and sparkled in the light. He was seeking something else, and presently he found it--a little box of jade, upon the roof of which was the faded remnants of an inscription. More to the point, there had been carved on its side, and was as fresh to-day as when it left the carver’s hands, two thousand years before, the words: “This is the secret of the philosopher.” He lifted the box and put it under his arm and made his way back to Tillizinni. “We can’t leave yet,” said the detective, all a-quiver with excitement. He felt he was on the verge of a great discovery. “We must find by what means this room is lighted.” Then he remembered the urgent business that waited in Tai Pan. “Perhaps we can come back,” he said regretfully, for he knew that when they had once passed through the portals they would never again visit the last home of the First Emperor. Talham led the way upward, and was within twenty feet of the silver door when somebody laughed, and the laugh rang hollowly through the vaulted chamber. He looked up. Before he was conscious of what was happening and before his hand could drop to the pistol at his side, a voice called mockingly: “You have ample time to complete your investigations, Captain Talham.” It was the voice of Soo, and it came from the head of the stairs. Talham and Tillizinni whipped out their revolvers and fired together, and again came the laugh and something more ominous--the rumble of a moving door. They sprang up the stairs together, but before Talham could swing himself through, the door had closed with a clang and a crash. They were trapped in the house of the dead! CHAPTER XIX. THE YAMEN OF T’SI SOO. Yvonne Yale was in the little room which overlooked the courtyard of the Governor’s yamen. She sat on the edge of the _kang_, her hands clasped on her knees, her face tense and pale. So this was the meaning of it--the meaning of that telegram which had sent her flying across Europe into the barbaric regions of Asia, that had set her down at a little wayside station, where a polite and tidy escort waited to convey her to her lover.