"She's haunted by shadows, too." He paused,
watching me narrowly.
"There's nothing better in this world than a clean conscience,
sir," he concluded.
*****
Having returned to my room at the hotel, I set down the
mysterious parcel, surveying it with much disfavour. That it
contained the hand of the Mandarin Quong I could not doubt, the
hand which had been amputated by Dr. Matheson. Its appearance
in that dramatic fashion confirmed Matheson's idea that the
mandarin's injury had been received at the hands of Adderley.
What did all this portend, unless that the Mandarin Quong was
dead? And if he were dead why was Adderley more afraid of him
dead than he had been of him living?
I thought of the haunting shadow, I thought of the night at
Katong, and I thought of Dr. Matheson's words when he had told
us of his discovery of the Chinaman lying in the road that night
outside Singapore.
I felt strangely disinclined to touch the relic, and it was only
after some moments' hesitation that I undid the wrappings and
raised the lid of the casket. Dusk was very near and I had not
yet lighted the lamps; therefore at first I doubted the evidence
of my senses. But having lighted up and peered long and
anxiously into the sandal-wood lining of the casket I could doubt
no longer.
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