“Chi-ho probably never realized the vastness of the sum to which he would be entitled if Thelma died childless. Humphreys, no doubt, only told him part of the truth. Chi-ho, in consideration of getting his freedom from Humphreys made over to the latter, in strictly legal form, all his interests under the will of Sung-tchun. That document was found among Humphreys’ papers after his death, of which Thelma has already told you.
“Very soon after that document was signed Chi-ho died—stabbed to death in what was said to be a tong feud in the Chinatown district of New York. I cannot say with certainty that the whole thing was arranged by Hartley Humphreys but Chi-ho’s death was very convenient to him.
“Now you have this interesting position: only Thelma’s life stood between Hartley Humphreys and the Sung-tchun fortune.
“All these facts came to me by cable—in code, of course, from Canton. I did not think it necessary or desirable to tell you and of course I had no permission to reveal the fact that Thelma was a great heiress. But I was keenly on the watch. My Canton correspondent warned me very specifically to beware of Hartley Humphreys, whose secret record in China—outwardly he was of the highest respectability—was appalling. And the Thu-tseng knew all there was to know about him.
“That will explain to you, Yelverton, Humphreys’ alarm when he saw the Crystal Claw. He knew it might mean anything—for instance that Thelma was being watched over and guarded by the agents of the most powerful secret society in the world. If that were the case, he knew, a single false step would mean his certain ruin—perhaps even his death.”
“You didn’t seem much concerned about his alarm when I told you,” I interrupted.
“No,” said the doctor with a smile, “it wasn’t necessary. I should not have been surprised if the sight of the Crystal Claw had frightened him off his scheme. But his avarice was evidently so unbounded that he was willing to run any risk for the sake of money.
“Now comes a curious part of the story that I think Mrs. Audley had better tell herself.” He turned to Thelma. “Please tell Mr. Yelverton about your marriage,” he said.
“Well,” said Thelma, hesitatingly. “I was introduced to Stanley Audley at a dance at Harrogate. He was an electrical engineer and was apparently also possessed of considerable means. We met frequently. Twice I had tea at his rooms in London and one day at the Savoy he introduced me to Harold Ruthen who, I understood, was a newly formed acquaintance of his.
“Mother rather liked Stanley, who always spoke enthusiastically of his firm, Messrs. Gordon & Austin, the great electrical supply company, and of his eagerness for advancement. When we became engaged mother raised no objection, for he was so keen and enthusiastic in everything. One day he motored me down to a place called ‘Crowmarsh,’ near Wallingford, where I found he possessed a fine old-world house, where we were to live when we married. I was charmed with it and we both spent a glorious day there. Three weeks later we were, as you know, quietly married at St. James’ church in Piccadilly, and went at once out to Switzerland for our honeymoon, where we met you both.