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M. Max was too deeply versed in his art to attempt any further investigations, yet; he contented himself with learning as much as was possible without moving in any way; and whilst he lay there awaiting whatever might come, the door opened noiselessly to admit Ho-Pin. He was about to be submitted to a supreme test, for which, however, he was not unprepared.
He had shaved and prepared himself for his singular duties, and Said had brought him his breakfast as usual. The day had passed uneventfully, and once, meeting Ho-Pin, he had found himself greeted with the same mirthless smile but with no menace. Perhaps they had believed his story, or had disbelieved it but realized that he was too closely bound to them to be dangerous.
"You are in Temple Gardens, M. Gaston," explained the Greek, "and here, unless I am greatly mistaken, comes a disengaged taxi-cab. You will drive to your hotel?" "Yes, to my hotel," replied M. Max. "And whenever you wish to avail yourself of your privilege, and pay a second visit to the establishment presided over by Mr. Ho-Pin, you remember the number?" "I remember the number," replied M. Max.
So much the detective observed through his lowered lashes. Then Ho-Pin again approached the bed and M. Max became again a dead man. The silken pyjamas which the detective wore were subjected to gentle examination by the sensitive fingers of the Chinaman, and those same fingers crept beetle-like beneath the pillow. Silently, Ho-Pin stole from the room and silently closed the door.
"Said," said Ho-Pin very deliberately, turning to face the new arrival, "ahu hina Lucas Effendi Mr. Lucas. Waddi el shenta ila beta oda. Fehimt?" Said bowed his head. "Fahim, effendi," he muttered rapidly. "Ma fihsh."... Again Said bowed his head, then, glancing at Soames: "Ta'ala wayyaya!" he said.
But this could not continue indefinitely; at least he must speak to Ho-Pin in order to obtain leave of absence. For, since that unforgettable night, he had lived the life of a cave-man indeed, and now began to pine for the wider vault of heaven. Meeting the impassive Chinaman in the corridor one morning, on his way to valet one of the living dead, Soames ventured to stop him.
Ho-Pin, dressed in a perfectly fitting morning coat and its usual accompaniments, received him with a mirthless smile. "Good mowrning!" he said; "I twrust your bwreakfast was satisfactowry?" "Quite, sir," replied Soames, mechanically, and as he might have replied to Mr. Leroux. "Said will show you to a wroom," continued Ho-Pin, "where you will find a gentleman awaiting you.
Soames hesitated no more. Reentering the corridor, with its straw-matting walls, he made a curious discovery. Away to the left it terminated in a blank, matting-covered wall. There was no indication of the door by which he had entered it. Glancing hurriedly to the right, he failed also to perceive any door there. The bespectacled Ho-Pin stood halfway along the passage, awaiting him.
He dropped the precious soap tablet into his open bag. In a state of semi-torpor, M. Max sprawled upon the bed for ten minutes or more, during which time, as he noted, the door remained ajar. Then there entered a figure which seemed wildly out of place in the establishment of Ho-Pin. It was that of a butler, most accurately dressed and most deferential in all his highly-trained movements.
Gradually so that the operation seemed to occupy an interminable time, the door opened, and in the opening a figure appeared. The switch clicked, and the room was flooded with electric light. Ho-Pin stood watching him. Soames in his eyes that indescribable expression seen in the eyes of a bird placed in a cobra's den met the Chinaman's gaze.
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