es and laughter, the tinkle of glasses, the scent of cigarette
smoke, and the fainter perfume of incense. And where he had seen him
last, as though he had not moved since that hour nine days ago, still
with his cigarette, still sphinx-like, narrow-eyed, watchful, stood Li
King.

Keith walked straight to him. And this time, as he approached, Li King
greeted him with a quick and subtle smile. He nipped his cigarette to
the tiled floor. He was bowing, gracious. Tonight he was not stupid.

"I have come to see Shan Tung," said Keith.

He had half expected to be refused, in which event he was prepared to
use his prerogative as an officer of the law to gain his point. But Li
King did not hesitate. He was almost eager. And Keith knew that Shan
Tung was expecting him.

They passed behind one of the screens and then behind another, until it
seemed to Keith their way was a sinuous twisting among screens. They
paused before a panel in the wall, and Li King pressed the black throat
of a long-legged, swan-necked bird with huge wings and the panel opened
and swung toward them. It was dark inside, but Li King turned on a
light. Through a narrow hallway ten feet in length he led the way,
unlocked a second door, and held it open, smiling at Keith.

"Up there," he said.

A flight of steps led upward and as Keith began to mount them the door
closed softly behind him. Li King accompanied him no further.

He mounted the steps, treading softly. At the top was another door, and
this he opened as quietly as Li King had closed the one below him.
Again the omnipresent screens, and then his eyes looked out upon a
scene which made him pause in astonishment. It was a great room, a room
fifty feet long by thirty in width, and never before had he beheld such
luxury as it contained. His feet sank into velvet carpets, the walls
were hung richly with the golds and browns and crimsons of priceless
tapestries, and carven tables and divans of deep plush and oriental
chairs filled the space before him. At the far end was a raised dais,
and before this, illumined in candleglow, was a kneeling figure. He
noticed then that there were many candles burning, that the room was
lighted by candles, and that in their illumination the figure did not
move. He caught the glint of armors standing up, warrior like, against
the tapestries, and he wondered for a moment if the kneeling figure was
a heathen god made of wood. It was then that he smelled the odor of
fran