"This"--and I snatched up the pigtail--
"That my pigtail," moaned Hi Wing Ho feebly.
Mr. Nicholson pitched him unceremoniously into a corner of the
room, and taking the pigtail in his huge hand, clumsily
unfastened it. Out from the thick part, some two inches below
the point at which it had been cut from the Chinaman's head, a
great diamond dropped upon the floor!
For perhaps twenty seconds there was perfect silence in my study.
No one stooped to pick the diamond from the floor--the diamond
which now had blood upon it. No one, so far as my sense informed
me, stirred. But when, following those moments of stupefaction,
we all looked up--Hi Wing Ho, like a phantom, had faded from the
room!
THE HOUSE OF GOLDEN JOSS
I
THE BLOOD-STAINED IDOL
"Stop when we pass the next lamp and give me a light for my
pipe."
"Why?"
"No! don't look round," warned my companion. "I think someone
is following us. And it is always advisable to be on guard in
this neighbourhood."
We had nearly reached the house in Wade Street, Limehouse, which
my friend used as a base for East End operations. The night was
dark but clear, and I thought that presently when dawn came it
would bring a cold, bright morning.
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