"Yes. Certainly. He killed Miss Wharf."
"But the verdict said that Tung-yu--"
"Pooh--pooh," cried Forge snapping his long fingers. "Tung-yu would not have dared to disobey the order of Kwang-ho the god. Hwei is the culprit, but I said as little as I could about that, I don't want to be entangled in the matter again. But one of the Chinamen has the fan, and by this time it is nearly at Pekin. There doesn't seem to be much chance of our getting that money Rupert."
"You did give the fan to Lo-Keong," reiterated Ainsleigh.
"Well it was taken from me. I went to his palace and told him I would give him the fan in exchange for the eighteen thousand pounds. I then intended to come back and give you eight, to clear off your mortgages and resolved to live on the remaining ten which are rightfully my own. But Lo-Keong had me seized, and the fan was taken from me. He then forbade me setting foot in China again. But I am going, for all that," said Forge threateningly, "I shall go after Christmas. I am bound to get my money and yours."
"You kept that fan for a long time?"
"For two years only, and then, when I thought everything had blown over, I took it to Lo-Keong with what result you know. Now then, I have been plain with you Rupert. Surely you can see that I am your friend."
"Tung-yu said you were not. Doctor."
"Naturally," replied Forge, "he wanted to make bad blood between us, so that I should not tell you this story. How does he know--Tung-yu I mean--but what you might not go to China and complain about Lo-Keong keeping this money."
"I prefer to stop here with my wife," said Ainsleigh. "But you can complain."