Mr. Nicholson pitched him unceremoniously into a corner of the room, and taking the pigtail in his huge hand, clumsily unfastened it. Out from the thick part, some two inches below the point at which it had been cut from the Chinaman's head, a great diamond dropped upon the floor!
For perhaps twenty seconds there was perfect silence in my study. No one stooped to pick the diamond from the floor—the diamond which now had blood upon it. No one, so far as my sense informed me, stirred. But when, following those moments of stupefaction, we all looked up—Hi Wing Ho, like a phantom, had faded from the room!
THE HOUSE OF GOLDEN JOSS
I
THE BLOOD-STAINED IDOL
“Stop when we pass the next lamp and give me a light for my pipe.”
“Why?”
“No! don't look round,” warned my companion. “I think someone is following us. And it is always advisable to be on guard in this neighbourhood.”