Followed by Ah Sing, I ran along to the door and listened. There was no sound whatever. I tried the door: it was locked. I rapped, using Philipson's knock, first softly, then louder, and at last called him by name. There was no reply. Now thoroughly scared, I sent Ah Sing round through my bedroom to warn his master from that side. He was back at my side a few seconds later, his eyes staring, his mouth agape. 'Hab look-see master no hab see!' he panted. It was at this instant that something inside the bedroom moved. I heard a soft, uneven step, the key was turned in the lock, the door came slightly open, and the muzzle of a revolver appeared round the style. I sang out sharply: 'Philipson!' One instant after that the door was swung wide, and we stood face to face. I say we stood, though it would be nearer truth to say that I, at least, staggered. Philipson was in pyjamas. His hair was tousled down over his face and his eyes, which he rather dazedly rubbed with his free fist, were blinking and heavy-lidded, as of a man just roused from deep sleep. CHAPTER V THE MISSION OF STEPHEN POYNING For the better part of a minute my tongue simply refused duty. I could no more than stand and gape, while the blood buzzed in my ears and the dim-lit doorway of Philipson's room seemed to rock sideways. Like words spoken in a dream I heard Philipson demand what was up, and Ah Sing's quaint pidgin-English as he panted out his version of the story. Philipson started back as if he had been struck. His face was in shadow, but I had an impression that his features were working, the way of a man not quite in command of himself. That lasted for only a few seconds, however. When he spoke again it was in the brisk, matter-of-fact tones he would have used to order a fresh can of lubricant for the launch. 'Odd,' he muttered. 'Odd, and nasty in the extreme! God knows who those people could have been. I had reckoned with a native organisation, Mirlees, but nothing more. If there are Europeans in it too--' 'Then it--' I broke off suddenly. Neither then nor thereafter could I imagine what it was, but something from outside myself seemed to close my lips by force, and there came down over my brain a most uncanny sense of hesitation and bewilderment. We had all three rushed out on to the verandah, and stood listening, peering out and around in every direction. There was no sound, no sign of movement anywhere; the creek lay like a riband of orange-tinted silver in the staring moonlight, from Nanking itself came scarcely a murmur of noise. It was the short hour when even a vast Chinese city is quiet between the clamour of two days.