ld I continue
my walking trip to Torquay.

I hastened to my room, therefore, intending to pack my belongings before
luncheon, so as to be ready for a start as soon thereafter as the
detective was ready. I left the door of my room partially open upon
entering, and for a time busied myself in arranging my luggage. As I did
so, I thought I heard a slight sound in the green room across the
hall--the one in which the tragedy had occurred--and, glancing up, saw
that, by looking into the mirror of my dresser, I could see most of the
interior of the room opposite. The room was not empty--for in a moment
I observed Li Min, the Chinese servant, engaged apparently in arranging
it, now that its unfortunate occupant and his belongings had been
removed. His actions struck me as being decidedly peculiar, and I
watched him carefully as he moved about. He was evidently searching for
something, and examined with the most minute care every object in the
room--the carpet, the pictures, the furniture, even the wall paper, as
though looking for some place of concealment. I tried to figure this out
to myself, but I could see no reasonable explanation of his conduct. If
he, or any of his confederates had killed Ashton, they certainly must
have secured the emerald Buddha, and taken it with them--the empty case,
I remembered, lay upon the table. What then, could this Chinaman be
searching for with such evident eagerness and anxiety? I determined to
surprise him, and with a few rapid steps crossed the intervening hall
and appeared in the doorway. He at once seemed confused, and made a
quick pretense of being busily occupied in the business of setting the
room to rights. I stood looking at him questioningly for a few moments,
when I presently became aware of a curiously pungent, yet sweet,
aromatic odor, which had something vaguely familiar to me about it. I
could not, at first, place this perfume, which was noticeably different
from those of our own country, when suddenly it flashed into my mind
that this was the curious scent which I had noticed upon Miss Temple's
handkerchief--the one dropped by her in Ashton's room on the occasion of
her visit to him shortly before midnight on the evening preceding the
tragedy. I glanced about, thinking to discover the source of this
perfume, but for a time had difficulty in doing so. At last, however, I
found that it came from a small cake of soap, of a dull-green color,
which lay upon the washstand where it