highways the spell of my singular acquaintance lost much of its
potency, and already I found myself doubting the story of Dr.
Kreener and Tcheriapin. Indeed, I began to laugh at myself,
conceiving that I had fallen into the hands of some comedian who
was making sport of me; although why such a person should visit
Malay Jack's was not apparent.

I was about to give expression to these new and saner ideas when
my companion paused before a door half hidden in a little alley
which divided the back of a Chinese restaurant from the tawdry-
looking establishment of a cigar merchant. He apparently held
the key, for although I did not actually hear the turning of the
lock I saw that he had opened the door.

"May I request you to follow me?" came his deep voice out of the
darkness. "I will show you something which will repay your
trouble."

Again the cloak touched me, but it was without entirely resigning
myself to the compelling influence that I followed my mysterious
acquaintance up an uncarpeted and nearly dark stair. On the
landing above a gas lamp was burning, and opening a door
immediately facing the stair the stranger conducted me into a
barely furnished and untidy room.

The atmosphere smelled like that of a pot-house, the odours of
stale spirits and of tobacco mingling unpleasantly. As my guide
removed his hat and stood there, a square, gaunt figure in his
queer, caped overcoat, I secured for the first time a view of his
face in profile; and found it to be startlingly unfamiliar. Seen