“I hate the beastly thing already,” Gregory acknowledged.
Wu Ling clapped his hands softly together. The screen of bamboos was pushed to one side and Mr. Endacott appeared. He had discarded his European clothes in favour of the dress of a native Chinese gentleman, and he carried a white umbrella.
“Our young friend again,” he remarked, with a brief salutation.
Wu Ling pointed to a chair.
“He wish talk to you.”
Mr. Endacott glanced at his watch before he sat down.
“I am about to visit the head of the Chinese University here,” he announced. “A man of rare intelligence and great learning! Why should I waste my time? Have you found the jewels in your Image, Mr. Ballaston?”
“Not a sign of them up to the present, sir,” Gregory admitted. “I am not very happy about them, either. As you know, the whole thing was a pretty dangerous enterprise, and I’ve only half succeeded. The Image is heavy enough, but I can’t see any possible aperture anywhere.”
“The recovery of the jewels,” Mr. Endacott remarked, leaning a little forward, with his hands clasped upon the knob of his umbrella, “was scarcely likely to be a simple matter.”
“I realise that,” Gregory confessed. “Already I am beginning to feel a sort of hatred of the thing. For the first time last night,” he went on, “I felt inclined to take seriously what Wu Ling here and you have said of these Images; that neither of them has any real existence separately. Side by side they have looked down upon that procession of worshippers through all these years. Side by side they must be, you have told me, according to the superstition, if the jewels are to be found.”