museum street certainly did not seem a likely spot for dr. fu-manchu to establish himself, yet, unless my imagination had strangely deceived me, from the window of the antique dealer who traded under the name of j. salaman, those

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wonderful eyes of kâramanèh, like the velvet midnight of the orient, had looked out at me.

as i paced slowly along the pavement toward that lighted window, my heart was beating far from normally, and i cursed the folly which, despite all, refused to die, but lingered on, poisoning my life. comparative quiet reigned in museum street, at no time a busy thoroughfare, and, excepting another shop at the museum end, commercial activities had ceased there. the door of a block of residential chambers almost immediately opposite to the shop which was my objective, threw out a beam of light across the pavement; not more than two or three people were visible upon either side of the street.

i turned the knob of the door and entered the shop.

the same dark and immobile individual whom i had seen before, and whose nationality defied conjecture, came out from the curtained doorway at the back to greet me.

"good evening, sir," he said monotonously, with a slight inclination of the head; "is there anything which you desire to inspect?"

"i merely wish to take a look round," i replied. "i have no particular item in view."

the shopman inclined his head again, swept a yellow hand comprehensively about, as if to include the entire stock, and seated himself on a chair behind the counter.

i lighted a cigarette with such an air of nonchalance as i could summon to the operation, and began casually to inspect the varied articles of virtu loading the shelves and tables about me. i am bound to confess that i retain no one definite impression of this tour. vases i handled, statuettes, egyptian scarabs, bead necklaces, illuminated missals, portfolios of old prints, jade ornaments, bronzes, fragments of rare lace, early printed books, assyrian tablets, daggers, roman rings, and a hundred other curiosities, leisurely, and i trust with apparent

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interest, yet without forming the slightest impression respecting any one of them.

probably i employed myself in this way for half an hour or more, and whilst my hands busied themselves among the stock of j. salaman, my mind was occupied entirely elsewhere. furtively i was studying the shopman himself, a human presentment of a chinese idol; i was listening and watching: especially i was watching the curtained doorway at the back of the shop.

"we close at about this time, sir," the man interrupted me, speaking in the emotionless, monotonous voice which i had noted before.

i replaced upon the glass counter a little sekhet boat, carved in wood and highly coloured, and glanced up with a start. truly my methods were amateurish; i had learnt nothing; i was unlikely to learn anything. i wondered how nayland smith would have conducted such an inquiry, and i racked my brains for some means of penetrating into the recesses of the establishment. indeed i had been seeking such a plan for the past half an hour, but my mind had proved incapable of suggesting one.

why i did not admit failure i cannot imagine, but, instead, i began to tax my brains anew for some means of gaining further time; and, as i looked about the place, the shopman very patiently awaiting my departure, i observed an open case at the back of the counter. the three lower shelves were empty, but upon the fourth shelf squatted a silver buddha.

"i should like to examine the silver image yonder," i said; "what price are you asking for it?"

"it is not for sale, sir," replied the man, with a greater show of animation than he had yet exhibited.

"not for sale!" i said, my eyes ever seeking the curtained doorway; "how's that?"

"it is sold."

"well, even so, there can be no objection to my examining it?"

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"it is not for sale, sir."

such a rebuff from a tradesman would have been more than sufficient to call for a sharp retort at any other time, but now it excited the strangest suspicions. the street outside looked comparatively deserted, and prompted, primarily, by an emotion which i did not pause to analyse, i adopted a singular measure; without doubt i relied upon the unusual powers vested in nayland smith to absolve me in the event of error. i made as if to go out into the street, then turned, leapt past the shopman, ran behind the counter, and grasped at the silver buddha!

that i was likely to be arrested for attempted larceny i cared not; the idea that kâramanèh was concealed somewhere in the building ruled absolutely, and a theory respecting this silver image had taken possession of my mind. exactly what i expected to happen at that moment i cannot say, but what actually happened was far more startling than anything i could have imagined.

at the instant that i grasped the figure i realized that it was attached to the woodwork; in the next i knew that it was a handle ... as i tried to pull it toward me i became aware that this handle was the handle of a door. for that door swung open before me, and i found myself at the foot of a flight of heavily carpeted stairs.

anxious as i had been to proceed a moment before, i was now trebly anxious to retire, and for this reason: on the bottom step of the stairs, facing me, stood dr. fu-manchu!