then, through some subtle intuition dropping the subject of the tragedy completely, we fell to talking of my work, my life in London, and so began to feel more at ease with each other. By the time we had returned to the house, it was close to the luncheon hour, and as I went to my room, I met Sergeant McQuade, in the hall. From him I learned that the divisional surgeon had completed his examination and returned to the town, that the body had been removed to a large unused billiard-room on the ground floor, and that the inquest was set for the following morning at eleven. The detective also said, in response to a question from me, that the two Chinamen who had left Exeter on the morning train had been apprehended in London, upon their arrival, and were being held there pending his coming. He proposed to run up to town the next day, as soon as the inquest was over. A careful and detailed search of Mr. Ashton's room and belongings had failed to reveal either any further evidence tending to throw light upon the murder, or any traces of the missing emerald Buddha.
After luncheon, Sergeant McQuade asked Major Temple to meet him in the library, accompanied by Li Min, and at the Major's request I joined them. The Chinaman was stolidly indifferent and perfectly collected and calm. His wooden face, round and expressionless, betrayed no feeling or emotion of any nature whatsoever. I observed, as did the detective, that his right hand was bound up with a strip of white cloth. He spoke English brokenly, but seemed to understand quite well all that was said to him.
"Li Min," said Major Temple, addressing the man, "this gentleman wishes to ask you some questions." He indicated Sergeant McQuade.
"All light." The Chinaman faced McQuade with a look of bland inquiry.
"Where did you spend last night?" asked the detective suddenly.
"Me spend him with blother at Exeter."
"Where, in Exeter?"
"Flog Stleet."
"What time did you leave this house?"
"P'laps 'leven o'clock, sometime."
"Was it raining?"
"Yes, velly much lain."
"You did not go to bed, then?"
"No, no go to bed, go Exeter."
The Sergeant looked at him sternly. "Your bed was not made this morning. You are lying to me."
"No, no lie. Bed not made flom day before. I make him myself."
The detective turned to Major Temple. "Is this fellow telling the truth?" he asked. "Does he make his own bed?"
"Yes," replied the Major. "The other servants refused to have anything to do with him. They are afraid to enter his room. He cares for it himself."
"What did you do in Exeter?" asked McQuade.
"P'laps talkee some, smokee some, eatee some—play fantan—bimby sleep."
"What's the matter with your hand?" asked the detective suddenly.
"Me cuttee hand, bloken bottle—Exeter."
"What kind of a bottle?"
"Whiskey bottle," answered Li Min, with a childlike smile.
McQuade turned away with a gesture of impatience. "There's no use questioning this fellow any further," he growled. "He knows a great deal more about this affair than he lets on, but there's no way to get it out of him, short of the rack and thumb-screw. Do any of the other servants sleep near him? Perhaps they may know whether or not he left the house last night. Who attends to locking the house up?"
"I have always trusted Li Min," said Major Temple. "He sleeps in a small room on the third floor of the east wing, which has a back stairway to the ground floor. The other house servants sleep on the second floor of the rear extension, over the kitchen and pantries. My daughter generally sees to the locking up of the house."
"Did she do so last night?"
"No. I did so myself. I locked the rear entrance before I retired shortly before midnight."
"After Mr. Ashton had left you to retire?"
"Immediately after."
"Then, if Li Min had left the house by that time, you would not have known it?"
"No, I should not. I heard no sounds in the servants' quarters and presumed they had retired. I sat up with Mr. Ashton, discussing various matters until quite late—perhaps for two hours or more after dinner."
"You were alone?"
"Yes, both my daughter and Mr. Morgan had retired some time before."
"Did you have any quarrel with Mr. Ashton before he left you?"
Major Temple glanced at me with a slight frown. "We had some words," he said, hesitating slightly, "but they were not of any serious consequence. We had a slight disagreement about the price he was to be paid for his services in procuring for me the emerald in addition to the other arrangement, of which I have already told you."
"And the matter was not settled before he left you?"
"No—" the Major hesitated perceptibly and seemed to be choosing his words with the utmost care—"it was not—but we agreed to leave it until the morning."
"You were displeased with Mr. Ashton, were you not? You quarreled violently?"
"I—we did not agree," stammered the Major.
"Did Mr. Ashton threaten to take the stone elsewhere, in case you would not agree to pay his price?"
"He mentioned something of the sort, I believe," said the Major.
"To which you objected strongly?"
"I protested, most certainly. I regarded the stone as my property. He acted as my agent only."
McQuade remained silent for some moments, then turned to Major Temple.
"Major Temple," he said, "I am obliged to go into the town for the remainder of the afternoon, but I shall be back here this evening. I shall leave one of my men on the premises. When I return, I should like very much to have you tell me the complete history of this jewel, this emerald Buddha, which has evidently been the cause of all this trouble. No doubt Mr. Ashton told you the story of his efforts to obtain it, while in China, and of the way in which he succeeded. Possibly, when we have a better understanding of what this jewel may mean to the real owners of it, we may the better understand how far they would go in their efforts to recover it."
"I shall be very happy indeed to do so," said Major Temple. "It is a most interesting and remarkable story, I can assure you."
After McQuade had gone, I strolled about the grounds for the larger part of the afternoon, trying to get my mind off the gloomy events which had filled it all the morning to the exclusion of everything else. I said to Major Temple before I left him that I regretted the necessity of remaining as an uninvited guest at his house pending the inquest, and suggested that I might remove myself and my belongings to Exeter, but he would not hear of it. I strolled into the town, however, later in the afternoon, after trying vainly to make some sketches, and dispatched a telegram to my mother, in Torquay, advising her that I would be delayed in joining
