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His husky voice spoke almost inaudibly. "I'm ... old ... Bill ... Bean ... I ..." A deep-noted siren hooted dimly. "A steamer making for dock," whispered Max. "Brr! it is a nightmare, this! I think in a minute something will happen. Ssh!" Ah-Fang-Fu glanced slowly around.
He walked slowly up the stairs, opened the door at the top and disappeared. Sinister silence reclaimed the house of Ah-Fang-Fu. And Ah-Fang-Fu resumed his solitary game. "He recognised 'Le Belafre'" whispered Max "and was surprised to see him! So there are three of the gang here! Did you particularly observe in which bunks they lay, doctor. Ssh!"
"Morbleu! do not raise your voice; for some of them are occupied by 'Scorpions. You noted the words of Ah-Fang? Ssh!" The old Chinaman returned with his curious shuffling walk, raising his hand to beckon to them. "Number one piece bunk, lo!" he chattered. "Good enough," growled Stuart. The two crossed and reclined upon the uncleanly mats. "Make special loom," explained Ah-Fang-Fu.
Ah-Fang-Fu returned unmoved to his Patience and silence reclaimed the den, only broken by the inarticulate murmuring and the lapping of the tide. "A genuine customer!" whispered Max. "Ah!" came again, more faintly "he ... has ... bitten ... me." "Blimey!" said Bill in a drowsy voice "'eave the chair at 'im, Pidgin." Stuart was about to speak when Gaston Max furtively grasped his arm.
Ah-Fang-Fu busied himself with a tin of opium, the pipe which he had taken from the sleeper, and another pipe apparently the last of his stock which lay near the lamp. Igniting the two, he crossed and handed them to Stuart and Max. "Velly soon-lo!" he said and made a curious sign, touching his brow, his lips and his breast in a manner resembling that of a Moslem.
Then he stood up, raised the lamp from the table and made a tour of the bunks, shining the light in upon the faces of the occupants. Max watched him closely, hoping to learn in which bunks the members of 'The Scorpion's' group lay. But he was disappointed. Ah-Fang-Fu examined all the bunks and even shone the light down upon Stuart and Max.
"Ssh!" he whispered. "Do not move, but look ... at the top of the stair!" Stuart turned his eyes. On the platform at the head of the stairs a Hindu was standing! "Chunda Lal!" whispered Max. "Prepare for anything!" "Chunda Lal descended slowly. Ah-Fang-Fu continued to play Patience. The Hindu stood behind him and began to speak in a voice of subdued fervour and with soft Hindu modulations.
The door closed completely. Within a niche in its centre sat a yellow leering idol, green eyed and complacent. Wild, gurgling cries brought Max sharply about. An answering whistle sounded from the street outside ... a second ... a third. Ah-Fang-Fu, stooping ever lower, at the instant that Stuart had sprung to his feet had seized his ankle from behind, pitching him on to his face.
With a curiously lithe step, for all her age, she descended, and standing behind Ah-Fang-Fu tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the outer door. He stood up and shuffled across, went up the four steps and unbarred the door. "Tchee, tchee," he chattered. "Pidgin make a look-out." He went out and closed the door. "Something happens!" whispered Max. A gong sounded. "Ah!"
He saluted her by touching his head, lips and breast with his right hand, then passed up to the door communicating with the shop, which he opened, and went out. His voice came, muffled: "Fo-Hi!" "Fo-Hi," returned the high voice of Ah-Fang-Fu. The outer door was opened and shut. The old woman went up and barred the inner door, then returned and stood by the matting curtain.
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