ree Colt Street--is a block of wooden
buildings. You recall them?"

"Yes," I replied. "Is the man established there again, then?"

"It appears so, but, although you have evidently not been informed of
the fact, Weymouth raided the establishment in the early hours of this
morning!"

"Well?" I cried.

"Unfortunately with no result," continued the inspector. "The notorious
Shen-Yan was missing, and although there is no real doubt that the place
is used as a gaming-house, not a particle of evidence to that effect
could be obtained. Also--there was no sign of Mr. Nayland Smith, and no
sign of the American, Burke, who had led him to the place."

"Is it certain that they went there?"

"Two C. I. D. men who were shadowing, actually saw the pair of them
enter. A signal had been arranged, but it was never given; and at about
half past four, the place was raided."

"Surely some arrests were made?"

"But there was no evidence!" cried Ryman. "Every inch of the rat-burrow
was searched. The Chinese gentleman who posed as the proprietor of what
he claimed to be a respectable lodging-house offered every facility to
the police. What could we do?"

"I take it that the place is being watched?"

"Certainly," said Ryman. "Both from the river and from the shore. Oh!
they are not there! God knows where they are, but they are not there!"

I stood for a moment in silence, endeavoring to determine my course;
then, telling Ryman that I hoped to see him later, I walked out slowly
into the rain and mist, and nodding to the taxi-driver to proceed to our
original destination, I re-entered the cab.

As we moved off, the lights of the River Police depot were swallowed up
in the humid murk, and again I found myself being carried through the
darkness of those narrow streets, which, like a maze, hold secret within
their labyrinth mysteries as great, and at least as foul, as that of
Pasiphae.

The marketing centers I had left far behind me; to my right stretched
the broken range of riverside buildings, and beyond them flowed the
Thames, a stream more heavily burdened with secrets than ever was Tiber
or Tigris. On my left, occasional flickering lights broke through the
mist, for the most part the lights of taverns; and saving these rents
in the veil, the darkness was punctuated with nothing but the faint and
yellow luminance of the street lamps.

Ahead was a black mouth, which promised to swallow me up as it had
swallowed up my friend.

I