Doctor Nikola (Windsor Magazine, 1896)/Chapter 3

all means,” said Dr. Nikola, settling himself down comfortably in his chair and lighting a cigarette. “As you have thrown in your lot with me it is only right that I should give you the information you seek. Of course I need not ask you to keep what I tell you to yourself. Your own common-sense will commend that course to you. It's of course just possible you may think I over-estimate the importance of what I am about to tell you, but let me say this, if once it became known to certain folk in this town that I have obtained possession of the stick in question, our lives, even in Shanghai, would not be worth five minutes' purchase. Let me briefly review the circumstances of the case connected with this mysterious society. Remember I have gone into the matter most thoroughly. It is not the hobby of an hour, nor the amusement of an idle moment, but the object of research and the concentrated study of a lifetime. To obtain certain information of which I stood in need, I have tracked people all over the world. When I began my preparations for inducing Wetherell to relinquish possession of the stick I had followed a man as far as Cuyaba, on the Bolivian frontier of Brazil. During the earlier part of his career this person had been a merchant buying gold-leaf in Western China, and in this capacity he chanced to hear a curious story connected with the doings of a certain sect whose monastery is in the mountains on the way up to Thibet. It cost me six months' continuous travel and nearly a thousand pounds to find that man, and when I did his story did not exceed a dozen sentences; in other words I paid him fully £10 per word for a bit of information that you would not have given him tenpence for. But I knew its value. I followed another man as far as Monte Video for the description of an obscure Chinese village; another to the Gold Coast for the name of a certain Buddhist priest, and a Russian Jew as far as Nijni Novgorod for a certain symbol he wore upon his watch chain, and of the value of which he had not the slightest conception. The information I thus obtained personally I added to the store I had gathered by correspondence, and having accumulated it all I drafted a complete history of my researches up to that time. When that was done I think I may say without boasting that, with the exception of three men—who, by the way, are not at liberty to divulge anything, and who, I doubt very much, are even aware that a world exists at all beyond their own monastery walls—I know at least six times as much about the society in question as any man living. Now, having prefaced my remarks in this fashion, let me give you a complete summary of the case. As far as I can gather, in about the year 288, just about the time in fact when Devenipiatissa was planting the sacred Bo tree at Anuradhapura, in Ceylon, three priests, noted for their extreme piety, and for the lengths to which they carried their occult devotions, migrated from what is now the island of Ceylon across to the mainland of Asia, when, having passed through the country at present called Burmah, and after innumerable vicissitudes and constant necessary changes of quarters, they brought up on the borders of what we now call Thibet. Here two of the original trio died, while the remaining one and his new confrères built themselves a monastery, set to work to gather about them a number of peculiar devotees, and established the practices of their religion. Though the utmost secrecy was observed, within a few years the fame of their doings had spread itself abroad; and that this was so we know for we find constant mention made of them by numerous Chinese historians. One I will quote you.”

Dr. Nikola rose from his chair and crossed the room to an old cabinet standing against the farther wall. From this he took a large book, looking suspiciously like a scrap-book, in which were pasted innumerable cuttings and manuscripts. He brought it across to his chair and sat down again. Then having turned over the leaves and found what he wanted, he prepared to read.

“It may interest you to know,” he said, however, looking up at me before he began, “that the paragraph I am about to read to you, which was translated from the original with the utmost care by myself, was written the same year and month that William the Conqueror landed in England.

“'And of this vast sect, and of the peculiar powers with which they are invested, it is with some diffidence that I speak. It is affirmed by those credulous in such matters that their power in medicine is greater than that of all living men, also their power in witchcraft, of which the most marvellous tales have been told. It is said, moreover, that they possess the power of restoring the dead to life and of prolonging beyond the ordinary standard the days of man. But of these things I can only write to you as they have been told to me.'”

Dr. Nikola turned to another page.

“After skipping 500 years,” he said, “we find another mention of them; this time by Feng Lao Lan, a well-known Chinese writer who flourished about the year 1500. On this occasion we find them making themselves a source of trouble to the kingdom in general. From being a collection of a few simple monks, installed in a lonely monastery on the way to Thibet, they have now become one of the largest secret societies in the East, though the mystic powers supposed to be held by them are still limited to the three headmen, or principal brothers. Toward the end of the sixteenth century it is certain that they exercised such a formidable influence in political affairs as to warrant the Government in issuing orders for their extermination. Indeed I am inclined to believe that the all-powerful Triad Society, with its motto, 'Hoan Cheng Hok Beng,' which exercised such an enormous influence in China until quite recently, was only an offshoot of the society which I am so eager to explore. That the sect does possess the occult knowledge that has been attributed to it for over 2000 years I feel convinced, and if there is any power which can assist me in penetrating their secrets I intend to employ it. In our own and other countries which we are accustomed to call 'civilised,' it has long been the habit to ridicule any belief in what cannot be readily seen and understood by the least educated. To the average Englishman there is no occult world. But see what a contradictory creature he is when all is said and done. For if he be devout, does he not tell you that he firmly believes that when the body dies the soul goes to Heaven, which is equivalent to Olympus, Elysium, Arcadia, Garden of Hesperides, Valhalla, Walhalla, Paradise, or Nirvana, as the case may be? He has no notion, or rather he will not be able to give you any description, of what his Heaven is likely to be He has all sorts of vague theories about it, but though it is part of his religion to believe beyond question that there is such a place, it is all wrapt in shadow of more or less depth. To sum it all up, he believes that while, in his opinion, such a thing as—shall we say ?—is arrant humbug, the vital essence of man has a second and greater being after death. In other words, to put it a little more plainly, it is pretty certain that if you were to laugh at him, as he laughs at the Theosophist and Spiritualist, he would consider that he had very good grounds to consider his intelligence insulted. And yet he himself is simply a contradiction contradicted. You may wonder towards what all this rigmarole is leading. But if I were to describe to you the curious things I have myself seen in different parts of the East, and what curious information I have collected first hand from others who have also witnessed, I venture to think you would believe me either a wizard myself or an absurdly credulous person. I have witnessed things that would seem to upset every known law of nature. Though there was occasionally trickery in the performance I am convinced in the majority of cases the phenomena were genuine. And that brings us to another stumbling-block—the meaning of the expression, 'trickery.' What I should probably call 'trick ' you would probably consider deepest magic. But enough of talking. Let me give you an example of what I mean.”

As he spoke he went across to a sideboard and took from it a quaintly shaped glass tumbler and a carafe of water, which he placed on the table at his elbow. Then seating himself again in his chair he filled the glass to overflowing. I watched him carefully, wondering what was coming next.

“Examine the glass for yourself,” he said. “You see it is quite full of water. I want you to be very sure of that.”

I examined the glass and discovered that it was so full that it would be impossible for me to move it without spilling some of its contents. Having done so I told him that I was convinced it was fully charged.

“Very well,” he said; “then let me give you an example of what I may call 'Mind versus Matter.' That glass is quite full, as you have seen for yourself; now watch me.”

From a tray by his side he took a match, lit a wax candle, and, when the flame had burnt up well, held it above the water so that one drop of wax might fall into the liquid.

“Now,” he said, “just watch that wax intently from where you are while I count twenty.”

I did as he ordered me, keeping my eyes firmly fixed upon the little spot floating on the surface of the water. Then as I looked, slowly, and to the accompaniment of Nikola's monotonous counting, the water diminished in the glass little by little, until the tumbler was completely empty.

“Get up and look for yourself, but don't touch the glass,” said my host. “Be perfectly sure, however, that it is empty, for I shall require your affidavit directly.”

I examined the glass most carefully, and stated that, to the best of my belief, there was not a drop of water in it.

“Very well,” said Nikola. “Now be so good as to watch it once more.”

This time he counted backwards, and as he did so the water rose again in the glass until it was full to overflowing, and still the wax was floating on the surface.

For a moment we were both silent. Then Nikola poured the water back into the jug, and having done so handed the glass to me.

“Examine it carefully,” he said, “or you may imagine it is some particular glass made by a London conjuring firm on purpose for the trick. Convince yourself of this, and when you have made sure give me your explanation of the mystery.”

I examined the glass with the most searching scrutiny, but no sign of any preparation or mechanism could I discover.

“I cannot understand it at all,” I said; “and I'm sure I can give you no explanation.”

“And yet you are not thoroughly convinced in your mind that I was not performing an ordinary conjuring trick, such as you might see at Maskelyne and Cook's. Let me give you two more examples of what I mean. Look me intently in the face until that clock on the mantelpiece, which is now standing at twenty-eight minutes past nine, shall strike the half hour.”

I did as I was ordered, and anything like the concentrated intensity of his gaze I never remember to have experienced before. I have often heard men say that when persons gifted with the power of mesmerising have looked at them (some women have this power too) they have felt as if they had no backs to their heads. In this case I can only say that I felt as if I had not only no back to my head, but as if I had no head at all.

The two minutes seemed like two hours, then the clock struck, and Nikola said—

“Pull up your left shirt cuff and examine your arm.”

I did as he ordered me, and there in red spots I saw an exact reproduction of my own signature. As I looked at it it faded away again, until in about half a minute from my first seeing it it was quite gone.

“That is what I call a trick. In other words it is neither more nor less than hypnotism. But you will wonder why I have done it. In the first place the water did not go out of the glass, as you supposed, but remained exactly as when you first saw it. I simply willed that you should imagine it did go, and your imagination complied with the demand made upon it. In the last experiment you saw a second proof of the first subject. Of course both are very easily accounted for, even by one who has dabbled in the occult as little as you have. But though you call it hypnotism in this airy fashion, can you give me an explanation of what you mean by that ambiguous term?”

“Simply that your mind,” I answered, “is stronger than mine, and is able to dominate it.”

“That is the popular theory, I grant you,” he answered, “but it is hardly a correct one, I fancy. Even if it were, how could it be possible for me to transmit thoughts which are in my brain to yours?”

“That I cannot attempt in any way to explain.” I answered. “But isn't it classified under the general head of thought transference?”

“By some people I admit; but your description hypnotism though an involved, is quite as correct a term. But let me tell you that both those illustrations were given to lead up to another which will bring us nearer than we have yet come to the conclusion I am endeavouring to arrive at. Try and let me have your complete attention again; above all watch my finger.”

As he spoke he began to wave his finger in the air. It moved this way and that, describing figures of eight, and I followed each movement carefully with my eyes until, after perhaps a minute, I saw, or thought I saw, what might have been a tiny cloud settling in the farther corner of the room. It was near the floor when I first noticed it, then it rose to about the height of a yard and came slowly into the room toward me. Little by little it increased in size. Then it seemed to assume definite proportions, became taller, and at last I thought I detected the outline of a human figure. This resemblance increased until I could definitely distinguish the head and body. It was a figure of a man, tall and well-proportioned; his head was thrown back and his eyes met mine with an eager though somewhat strained glance. Every detail was most perfect, even to the extent of a peculiar ring upon his little finger; indeed, if I had met the man anywhere I am certain I should have known him again. A strange orange-coloured light almost enveloped him, but in less than a minute he had become merged in the cloud again; this gradually fell back into the corner, grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared altogether. I gave a little shiver, as if I were waking from some unpleasant dream, and turned to Nikola, who was watching me with half closed eyes.

When I had quite recovered my wits he took an album from the table and handed it to me.

“See if you can find in that book,” he said, “the photograph of the man whose image you have just seen before you.”

I opened the book and turned the pages eagerly. Near the middle I discovered an exact reproduction of the vision I had seen. The figure and face, the very attitude and expression, were the same in every particular, and even the ring I noticed was upon the little finger. I was completely non-plussed.

“What do you think of my experiment?” asked Nikola.

“It was most wonderful and most mysterious,” I said.

“But how do you account for it?” he asked.

“I can't account for it at all,” I answered. “I can only suppose, since you owned to it before, that it must have been hypnotism again.”

“Exactly,” said Nikola. “But you will see in this case, without any disk or passes, I not only produced the wish that you should see what I was thinking of, but also the exact expression worn by the person in the photograph. The test was successful in every way. And yet how did I transfer the image that was in my mind to the retina of your eyes? You were positively certain you saw the water decrease in the glass just now; you would have pledged your word of honour that you saw your name printed upon your arm; and under other circumstances you would, in all probability, have ridiculed any assertion on my part that you did not see the vision of the man whose photograph is in that book. Shall I make myself float in mid-air? Shall I transport you out of this room and take you to the bottom of the Pacific ocean? Shall I lift you up into heaven, or conduct you to the uttermost parts of hell? You have only to say what you want to see and I will show it to you just as surely as you saw those other things. But remember all I have done is only what I call trickery, for it was done by hypnotism, which is to my mind, though you think it so mysterious, nothing more or less than making people believe what you will by the peculiar power of your own mind. But answer me this. If hypnotism is only the very smallest beginning of the knowledge possessed by the sect I am trying to discover, what must their greatest secret be? Believe me when I tell you that what I have shown you this evening is as a molehill to a mountain compared with what you will learn if we can only penetrate into that place of which I have told you. I pledge you my word on it. Now tell me, isn't it worth trying for?”

“I will go with you,” I cried, enthusiastically. “I will give you my beet service, and if you will play fair by me, I will do the same by you. By the way, has that stick you obtained from Mr. Wetherell anything at all to do with the work in hand?”

“More than anything,” he answered. “It is the key to everything. Originally there were only three of these sticks in existence; one belongs, or rather did belong, to each of the three heads of the sect. For some unknown reason one of the trio left the monastery and came out into the world. He died in a mysterious manner, and the stick fell into the possession of the abbot of the Yung Ho Kung, in Pekin, from whom it was stolen by an Englishman, known as China Pete, who risked his life, disguised as a Thibetan monk, to get it. Having stolen it he eluded me and fled to Australia, not knowing the real value of his treasure. The society became cognisant of its loss and sent men after him. In attempting to obtain possession of it one of the Chinamen was killed off the coast of Queensland, and China Pete was arrested in Sydney on a charge of having murdered him. Wetherell defended him and got him off, and not being able to pay for his service the latter made him a present of the stick. A month later I reached Sydney in search of it, but the Chinese were there before me. We both tried to obtain possession of it, but owing to Wetherell's obstinacy neither of us were successful. I offered Wetherell his own price for it; he refused to give it up; then I set myself to obtain it from him at any hazard. How I succeeded you know. All that occurred six months ago. As soon as it was in my possession I returned here with the intention of penetrating into China and endeavouring to find out what I so much wanted to know.”

“And where is the stick now?” I inquired.

“In very safe keeping,” he answered. “But if you would care to see it I shall have very much pleasure in showing it to you.”

“I should like to see it immensely,” I answered.

With that he left the room, to return in about five minutes. Then seating himself before me he took from his pocket a small case, out of which he drew a tiny stick, at most not more than three inches long. It was a common-place little affair and deep black in colour, and covered with Chinese hieroglyphics in dead gold. Attached to it at one end was a piece of frayed gold ribbon, much tarnished and showing evident signs of having passed through many hands.

He handed it to me, and when I had received it I examined it carefully.

“But if this stick were originally stolen,” I said, “you will surely not be so imprudent as to place yourself in the power of the society with it in your possession. It would mean certain death.”

“If it were all plain sailing, and there were no risk to be run, I doubt very much if I should even pay you £20,000 for the benefit of your company,” he answered. “It is because there is a great risk, and because I must have assistance, though I am extremely doubtful whether we shall ever come out of it alive, that I am taking you with me. I intend to discover their secret if possible, and I also intend that this stick, which undoubtedly is the key to some mysterious power, shall help me in my endeavours. If you are afraid to accompany me, having heard all I have to say, I will allow you to forget your promise and turn back while there is time.”

“I have not the slightest intention of turning back,” I answered. “I don't know that I am a braver man than most, but if you are willing to go on I am ready to accompany you.”

“And so you shall, and there's my hand on it,” he cried, giving me his hand as he spoke.

“Now tell me what you intend to do?” I said. “How do you mean to begin?”

“Well, in the first place,” said Nikola, “I shall wait here until the arrival of a man from Pekin. He is one of the lay brethren of the society who has fallen under my influence, and as soon as he puts in an appearance and I have got his information, we shall disguise ourselves, myself as an official of one of the coast provinces, you as my secretary, and together we will set out for the capital. Arriving there we will penetrate the Llamaserai, the most anti-European monastery in all China, and extract from the chief priest sufficient information to make the next step upon our journey. After that we shall proceed as circumstances dictate.”

“And when do you intend that we shall start?”

“As soon as the man arrives, perhaps to-night, probably to-morrow morning.”

“And as to our disguises?”

“I have in my possession everything we can possibly need.”

“In that case I suppose there is nothing to be done until the messenger arrives?”

“Nothing, I think.”

“Then if you will allow me I will wish you good-bye and be off to bed. In case I do not hear from you to-night, at what hour would you like me to call to-morrow?”

“I will let you know before breakfast time without fail.”

Once more I followed him down the main passage of the bungalow into the front veranda. Arriving there we shook hands and I went down the steps into the street.

As I turned the corner and made my way in the direction of the place to which I was proceeding I saw a man, without doubt a Chinaman, rise from a corner and follow me. For nearly a quarter of a mile he remained about a hundred yards behind me, then he was joined by a second, who presently left his companion at a cross street and continued the march. Whether their espionage was only accidental, or whether I was really the object of their attention, I was for some time at a loss to conjecture, but when I saw the second give place to a third, and the third begin to decrease the distance, I must own I was not altogether comfortable in my mind. Arriving at a more crowded thoroughfare I hastened my steps, and having proceeded about fifty yards along it, dodged down a side lane. This lane conveyed me into another, which eventually brought me out within half a dozen paces of the house I wanted.

That the occupants of the house had not yet gone to bed was evident from the lights I could see moving about inside. In response to my knock someone left the room upon the right of the passage and came towards the door where I waited. When he had opened it I discovered that it was Mr. McAndrew himself.

“Why, Bruce!” he cried in surprise, when he discovered who his visitor was. “You've chosen a pretty late hour for calling; but never mind, come along in; I am glad to see you.” As he spoke he led me into the room from which he had just emerged. It was his dining-room, and was furnished in a heavy, solemn, but most luxurious, fashion. In a chair beside the long table—for Mr. McAndrew has a large family, and twelve sat down to the morning and evening meal—was seated a tiny gray-haired lady, his wife, while opposite her, engaged upon some fancy work, was a pretty girl of sixteen, his youngest daughter, so I discovered. That the lateness of my visit also occasioned them some surprise I could see by their faces; but after a few common-place remarks they bade me good-night and went out of the room, leaving me alone with the head of the house.

“I suppose you have some very good reason for this visit,” the latter said as he handed me a box of cigars, “or you wouldn't be here. Have you heard of a new billet, or has your innocent friend Nikola commenced to blackmail you?”

“Neither of these things have happened,” I answered with a laugh. “But as I am leaving Shanghai in all probability to-morrow morning before banking hours, I want to know if I may so far tax your kindness as to ask you to take charge of a cheque for me.” I thereupon produced Nikola's payment and handed it to him. He took it, glanced at it, looked up at me, returned his eyes to the cheque once more, and then whistled.

“This looks like business,” he said.

“Doesn't it,” I answered. “I can hardly believe that I am worth £20,000.”

“And what do you want me to do with it?” inquired McAndrew, turning the paper over and over in his hand just as if it were some uncanny talisman which might suddenly catch him up and convert him into a camel or an octopus.

“I want you to keep it for me if you will,” I answered. “To put it on deposit in your bank would be the best plan I think. I am going away, certainly for six months, possibly for a year, and when I return to Shanghai I will come and claim it. That's if I do return.”

“And if not?”

“Well in that case I think I will leave it all to you. In the meantime I want you to advance me £20 if you will; you can repay yourself out of the amount. Do you mind doing it?”

“Not in the very least,” he answered; “but we had better have it all in writing.”

He thereupon produced from a drawer in a side table some sheets of notepaper. Having written something on one of these he gave it to me to sign, at the same time calling in one of his sons to witness my signature. These formalities completed he handed me £20 in notes and English gold, and our business was concluded. I rose to go.

“Bruce,” said the old gentleman in his usual kindly fashion, putting his hand upon my shoulder as he spoke, “I don't know what you are up to, and I don't suppose it will do for me to inquire, but I am aware that you have been in pretty straitened circumstances lately, and I am afraid you are embarking on some foolishness or other now. For heaven's sake weigh carefully the pros and cons before you commit yourself. Remember always that one moment's bit of folly may wreck and poison your whole after life.”

“You need have no fear on that score,” I answered. “I am going into this business with my eyes open. But I am obliged to you for your warning and for what you have done for me all the same. Good-night and. good-bye.”

I thereupon shook hands with him, and passing into the veranda left the bungalow.

I was not fifty yards from the gate when something induced me to look round. A man had been sitting in the shadow on the other side of the road. Now he rose and began to follow me. That it was the same individual who had accompanied me to McAndrew's house I had not the slightest doubt. I turned to my right hand down a side street to see if he would pursue me; he also turned. I turned again; he did the same. I proceeded across a piece of open ground instead of keeping on in the straight line I had hitherto been following; he imitated my example. At the corner of the plot was a high paling fence. I quickened my pace, and having turned the corner followed the palisading along till I came to the gate. Through this I dashed, and as soon as I was in stooped down in the shadow. Half a minute later I heard the man coming down on the other side. When he could not see me ahead of him he came to a halt within half a dozen paces of where I crouched. Then having made up his mind that I must have crossed the road and gone down a dark lane opposite he too crossed, and in a few seconds was out of sight.

As soon as I had convinced myself that I had got rid of him I passed out into the street again and made my way as quickly as possible back to my abode.

But I was not to lose my mysterious pursuer after all, for just as I was about to enter my own compound he put in an appearance. Seeing that I had an advantage I ran up the steps of the veranda and went inside. From a window I watched him come up the street and stand looking about him. Then he returned by the way he had come, and that was the last I saw of him. In less than a quarter of an hour of seeing him depart I was in bed and asleep, dreaming of Nikola, and that I was being turned into an elephant by his uncanny powers.

How long I remained snoozing I cannot say, but I was suddenly wakened by the feeling that somebody was in my room. Nor was I mistaken. A man was sitting by my bedside, and in the dim moonlight I could discern the fact that he was a Chinaman.

“What do you want here?” I cried, sitting up in bed.

“Hush! be silent,” my visitor whispered in Chinese. “If you are silent you are safe, but if you speak it will cost you your life.”

Without another word I thrust my hand under the pillow, intending to produce the revolver I had placed there when I went to bed. But it was gone. Whether my visitor had stolen it or I had imagined that I had put it there and forgotten to do so, it was beyond my powers to tell. At any rate the weapon, upon which it would seem my life depended, was gone.

“What is your business with me?” I asked, resolved to bring my visitor to his bearings without loss of time.

“Not so loud,” he answered. “I am sent by Dr. Nikola to request your honourable presence. He desires that you will come to him without losing a moment.”

“But I've only just left him,” I said. “Why does he send for me again?”

“I cannot say, but I gathered from his manner that something important has occurred,” was the man's answer. “He bade me tell you to come at once.”

With that I got up and dressed myself as quickly as possible. The expected messenger from Pekin had evidently arrived, and now we should probably be setting off for the capital before morning. At any rate I did not waste a moment, but dressed as quickly as I could, and as soon as I was ready, went out into the veranda where the man who had come for me was waiting. He led me across the compound into the street, where a chair with its bearers was in waiting for me.

“Your friend is in a hurry,” said the man who had called me, by way of explanation, “and he bade me not lose a moment.”

“Well then go along as hard as you like,” I said; “I am quite ready.”

I took my place in the chair, which was immediately lifted by the bearers, and within a minute of my leaving the house we were proceeding down the street at a comparatively fast pace. At that hour the town was very quiet indeed; indeed, with the exception of an occasional Sikh policeman and a belated rickshaw coolie or two, we met no one. At the end of a quarter of an hour we had evidently arrived at our destination, for the chair came to a standstill and the bearers set me down. I sprang out and looked about me. To my surprise however it was not the house I expected that I found before me. We had pulled up at the entrance to a much larger bungalow standing in a compound of fair size. While I waited my messenger went into the house, to presently return with the information that if I would be pleased to follow him Dr. Nikola would see me at once.

The house was in total darkness and as silent as the grave. I passed into the main hall and was about to move down it towards a door at the farther end when I was, without warning, caught from behind, a gag of some sort was placed in my mouth, and my hands were fastened behind me. Next moment I was lifted into the air and borne into a room from which a bright light suddenly streamed forth. Here were seated three Chinamen who were clad in heavy figured silk, and wore enormous tortoise shell spectacles upon their noses. They received me with a grunt of welcome, and bade my captors remove the gag from my mouth. This done the elder of the trio said quietly—

“We hope that you are in good health?”

I answered, with as much calmness as I could possibly assume at so short a notice, that I was in the enjoyment of the best of health. Whereupon I was requested to say how it came about that I was now in China, and what my business there might be. Presently the man on the right leant a little forward and said—

“You are not telling us the honourable truth. What business have you with Dr. Nikola?”

I summoned all my wits to my assistance.

“Who is Dr. Nikola?” I asked.

“The person whom you have visited two nights in succession,” said the man who had first spoken. “Tell us what mischief you and he are hatching together.”

Seeing that it would be useless attempting to deny my association with Nikola I insinuated that we were interested in the purchase of Chinese silk together, but this assertion was received with a scornful grunt of disapproval.

“We must have the truth,” said the man in the biggest spectacles.

“I can tell you no more,” I answered.

“We shall have no option then,” he said, “but to extract the information by other means.”

With that he made a sign to one of the attendants, who immediately left the room to return a few moments later with a roll of chain, and some peculiar shaped wooden bars. A heavy sweat rose upon my forehead. I had seen so much of Chinese torture, and now it looked as if I were about to have a taste of it.

“What do you know of Dr. Nikola?” repeated the elder man, who was evidently the principal of the trio.

“Nothing more than I have told you,” I repeated, this time with unusual emphasis.

Again he asked the same question without change of tone.

But I only repeated my former answer.

“For the last time, what do you know of Dr. Nikola?”

“I have told you all I know,” I answered, my heart sinking like lead. Thereupon he raised his hand a little and made a sign to the men near the door. Instantly I was caught and thrown upon my back upon the floor. Before I could expostulate or struggle a curious wooden collar was clasped round my neck and a screw was turned in it till it nearly choked me. Once more I heard that voice say monotonously—

“What do you know of Dr. Nikola?”

I tried to repeat my former assertion that I knew nothing, but I found a difficulty in speaking. Then the man in the centre rose and came over to where I lay; instantly the collar was loosened, my arms were unbound, and a voice said—

“Get up Mr. Bruce; you need have no further fear; we shall not hurt you.”

It was Dr. Nikola!

{{c|{To be continued.)}}