"Then, who killed Thornton Lyne?"
Tarling rose with a gesture of despair.
"You are apparently as far from the solution of that mystery as I am, and yet I have formed a theory which may sound fantastic——"
There was a light step upon the stair and Tarling crossed the room and opened the door.
Ling Chu came in, his calm, inscrutable self, and but for the fact that his forehead and his right hand were heavily bandaged, carrying no evidence of his tragic experience.
"Hello, Ling Chu," said Tarling in English, "you're hurt?"
"Not badly," said Ling Chu. "Will the master be good enough to give me a cigarette? I lost all mine in the struggle."
"Where is Sam Stay?"
Ling Chu lit the cigarette before he answered, blew out the match and placed it carefully in the ash-tray on the centre of the table.
"The man is sleeping on the Terrace of Night," said Ling Chu simply.