"This is merely the foyer, Rita," he said, smiling slightly. "The state
apartments are upstairs and in the adjoining house."

"Oh," she murmured--and no more.

Kilfane and Mollie Gretna were passing through the inner doorway, and
Mollie turned.

"Isn't it loathsomely delightful?" she cried.

"Smartest leg in Buenos Ayres!" shrieked the raven. "Sin Sin, Sin Sin!"

Uttering a frightened exclamation, Mollie disappeared along the passage.
Sir Lucien indicated to Rita that she was to follow; and he, passing
through last of the party, closed the door behind him.

Sin Sin Wa never moved, and the raven, settling down upon the Chinaman's
shoulder, closed his serviceable eye.

CHAPTER XVII. THE BLACK SMOKE

Up an uncarpeted stair Cyrus Kilfane led the party, and into a kind of
lumber-room lighted by a tin oil lamp and filled to overflowing with
heterogeneous and unsavory rubbish. Here were garments, male and female,
no less than five dilapidated bowler hats, more tea-chests, broken
lamps, tattered fragments of cocoanut-matting, steel bed-laths and
straw mattresses, ruins of chairs--the whole diffusing an indescribably
unpleasant odor.

Opening a cupboard door, Kilfane revealed a number of pendent, ragged
garments, and two more bowler hats. Holding the garments aside, he
banged upon the back of the cupboard--three blows, a pause, and then two
blows.

Following a brief interval, during which even Mollie Gretna was held
silent by the strangeness of the proceedings.

"Who is it?" inquired a muffled voice.

"Cy and the crowd," answered Kilfane.

Thereupon ensued a grating noise, and hats and garments swung suddenly
backward, revealing a doorway in which Mrs. Sin stood framed. She wore
a Japanese kimona of embroidered green silk and a pair of green and gold
brocaded slippers which possessed higher heels than Rita remembered to
have seen even Mrs. Sin mounted upon before. Her ankles were bare, and
it was impossible to determine in what manner she was clad beneath the
kimona. Undoubtedly she had a certain dark beauty, of a bold, abandoned
type.

"Come right in," she directed. "Mind your head, Lucy."

The quartette filed through into a carpeted corridor, and Mrs. Sin
reclosed the false back of the cupboard, which, viewed from the other
side, proved to be a door fitted into a recess in the corridor of the
adjoining house. This recess ceased to exist when a second and heavier
door was closed upon the first.

"You