In the next apartment was a large boiler, with the lid off, filled with water, in which ten or twelve turkeys, skewered and trussed, were bobbing up and down amid the froth and scum of the boiling water. A crowd of Chinese, all chattering in their high shrill voices, were moving about half seen in the smoky atmosphere, through which candle and lamp light flamed feebly. Villiers, in a kind of little cell apartment, was having his supper when the detective entered. Before him was a large bowl filled with soup, and in this were squares of thin rice bread, and portions of turkey and duck mixed up into a savoury mess, and flavoured with the dark brown fluid which the Chinese use instead of salt. "Oh, it's you," growled Villiers, looking up with a scowl, "what do you want?" "You, my friend," said Naball cheerfully, taking a seat. "Oh, do you?" said Villiers, rubbing his bleared eyes, inflamed by the pungent smoke of the wood-fire. "I s'pose you think I killed old Lazarus?" "No, I don't," retorted the detective, looking straight at him, "but I think you know more than you tell." "He! he!" grinned the other sardonically. "Perhaps I do--perhaps I don't--it's my business." "And mine also," said Naball, somewhat nettled. "You forget the case is in my hands." "Don't care whose hands it's in," retorted Villiers, finishing his soup, "t'aint any trouble of mine." The detective bit his lip at the impenetrable way in which Villiers met his advances. Suddenly a thought flashed across his mind, and he bent forward with a meaning smile. "Got any more diamonds?" Villiers pushed back his chair from the table, and stared at Naball. "What diamonds?" he asked, in a husky voice. "Come now," said Naball, with a wink, "we know all about that--eh? Ah Goon is a good pawnbroker, isn't he?" "Ah Goon!" gasped Villiers, turning a little pale. "Yes; though he did only lend twenty pounds on those diamonds." "Look here, Mr. Jack-o'-Dandy," said Villiers, bringing his fist down on the table, "I don't want no beating about the bush, I don't. What do you mean, curse you?" "I mean that I know all about your little games," replied Naball, leaning over the table. "I know Caprice stole her own jewels for some purpose, and gave you some of the swag to shut your mouth, and I know that you're going to tell me all you know about this Russell Street business, or, by Jove, I'll have you arrested on suspicion." Villiers gave a howl like a wild beast, and, flinging himself across the table, tried to grapple with the detective, but recoiled with a shriek of wrath and alarm as he saw the shining barrel of a revolver levelled at his head. "Won't do, Villiers," said Naball smoothly; "try some other game."