e isn't an Englishman in the house--trying
to pacify the girl out in the hall yonder, and a Malay and another
colored man beating their foreheads and howling. There was no sense to
be got out of any of them, so he started to investigate for himself.
He had taken the bearings of the place earlier in the evening, and from
the light in a window on the ground floor had located the study; so he
set out to look for the door. When he found it, it was locked from the
inside."

"Well?"

"He went out and round to the window. There's no blind, and from the
shrubbery you can see into the lumber-room known as the study. He
looked in, as apparently Miss Edmonds had done before him. What he saw
accounted for her hysterics."

Both Smith and I were hanging upon his words.

"All amongst the rubbish on the floor a big Egyptian mummy case was
lying on its side, and face downwards, with his arms thrown across it,
lay Sir Lionel Barton."

"My God! Yes. Go on."

"There was only a shaded reading-lamp alight, and it stood on a chair,
shining right down on him; it made a patch of light on the floor, you
understand." The Inspector indicated its extent with his hands.
"Well, as the man smashed the glass and got the window open, and was
just climbing in, he saw something else, so he says."

He paused.

"What did he see?" demanded Smith shortly.

"A sort of GREEN MIST, sir. He says it seemed to be alive. It moved
over the floor, about a foot from the ground, going away from him and
towards a curtain at the other end of the study."

Nayland Smith fixed his eyes upon the speaker.

"Where did he first see this green mist?"

"He says, Mr. Smith, that he thinks it came from the mummy case."

"Yes; go on."

"It is to his credit that he climbed into the room after seeing a thing
like that. He did. He turned the body over, and Sir Lionel looked
horrible. He was quite dead. Then Croxted--that's the man's
name--went over to this curtain. There was a glass door--shut. He
opened it, and it gave on a conservatory--a place stacked from the
tiled floor to the glass roof with more rubbish. It was dark inside,
but enough light came from the study--it's really a drawing-room, by
the way--as he'd turned all the lamps on, to give him another glimpse
of this green, crawling mist. There are three steps to go down. On
the steps lay a dead Chinaman."

"A dead Chinaman!"

"A dead CHINAMAN."

"Doctor seen them?" rapped Smith.

"Ye