Adventure, June 1911 — page 175: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Emerald Buddha the extreme, and I pulled the bell with feel- ings of inward trepidation. So long an interval elapsed before any response came that I was on the point of ringing it again, when I suddenly heard soft footsteps in the hallway and the door was silently opened. I_stepped within, mechanically, unable to observe the person who had admitted me. I had taken but a single step into the passage, when the door was swiftly closed behind me and at the same instant a bag of heavy cloth was thrust over my head and my arms were pinioned from behind in a vice-like grip. The bag was drawn closely about my throat by a noose in the edge of it, and before I knew it I felt my- self being slowly but surely strangled. CHAPTER X IN THE TEMPLE OF BUDDHA I WAS lifted bodily by two or three silent figures and carried a consider- able distance, part of the way down a steep flight of stairs and through what might have been a tunnel or cellar. Presently I heard the opening of a heavy door and in a moment I was thrown roughly upon a bench, and my pockets systematically searched. My captors evidently were not looking for money, for the only thing they took from me were my keys. After this they left me, huddled up in a corner of the beneh;-afraid to cry out or make a move in any direction. The room in which I now found myself was as silent as the tomb, and yet I felt that it was lighted brightly and that there were others in it besides myself. I could feel that it was warm, and through the folds of the bag about my head came the acrid, half-sweet smell of opium or Chinese incense, or both. I realized at once that I was in the hands of some of Li Min’s friends, and no doubt the note which pur- ported to come from McQuade had been merely a decoy.. I recollected now with vividness the interview I had witnessed the afternoon before between Li Min and some fellow countryman of his at the gateway in the hedge back of The Oaks. No doubt the crafty Oriental had kept his confed- erates in London fully posted as to both my movements and those of Sergeant Mc- Quade. What on earth they could want with me I was unable to imagine. 361 I reached out softly with my right hand— I had not been bound—and touched a wall, hung with heavy embroidered satin. The bench upon which I sat was of hard pol- ished wood. I reached up quickly, loosed the cord which held the bag tightly about my neck, and with a swift motion, lifted it from my head, The sight I beheld as- tounded me. ae I was in a long, low room, the bench upon which I sat being at the extreme end of it. The walls were hung from end to end with © bright colored satin, wonderfully embroid- ered with birds, flowers, dragons and strange Chinese characters. The floor was of wood, dark, and polished with the walking of countless softly-shod feet. Fac- ing me at the far end of the room was a great red and gold wooden screen, carved and lacquered, and representing some mysterious Chinese figures, whether gods or demons I could not tell. In the center of this screen was an opening, a sort of altar, brightly lighted by a large number of wax candles, within which hung a repre- sentation of the god Buddha, marvelously embroidered upon dull red satin, with gold and silver threads. Behind the candles stood a small gold casket, or shrine, the door of which was standing open, disclosing an empty interior. The altar in front of the candles was covered with a profusion of dishes containing flowers, rice and other foods. ogee Before the altar knelt a tall, gaunt figure,. his back turned toward me, bowed in prayer. He wore a long, dark brown robe, girdled loosely about the waist with a leather belt, and his gray hair was con- fined in a long queue which hung below his waist. He took no notice whatever of my movements and remained in silent con- templation of the picture of the god before him. A number of sticks of incense were burning in a brass jar upon the altar and the room was filled with a thin, waving, blue haze, which circled softly around the great painted silk lanterns hung from the ceiling. I felt as though I had been suddenly and mysteriously transported from a dark and gloomy London street to some wonderful temple in the far off city of Pekin. I rubbed my eyes, and moved uneasily upon my hard bench, but no movement upon the part of the silent worshipper indicated that he so much as knew of my presence. Go DOOKS AMC (C@