questioned the dull sounds of the riverside for a moment, looking
about him anxiously, and then, using the leaning post as a
stepping-stone, he succeeded in wedging his foot into a crevice
in the wall. By the exercise of some agility he scrambled up to
the top, and presently found himself lying upon a sloping roof.

The skylight remained well out of reach, but his rubber-soled
shoes enabled him to creep up the slates until he could grasp the
framework with his hands. Presently he found himself perched
upon the trap which, if his information could be relied upon,
possessed no fastener, or one so faulty that the trap could be
raised by means of a brad-awl. He carried one in his pocket,
and, screwing it into the framework, he lifted it cautiously,
making very little noise.

The trap opened, and up to his nostrils there stole a queer,
indefinable odour, partly that which belongs to old Oriental
furniture and stuffs, but having mingled with it a hint of
incense and of something else not so easily named. He recognized
the smell of that strange store-room, which, as Mr. Hampden, he
had recently visited.

For one moment he thought he could detect the distant note of a
bell. But, listening, he heard nothing, and was reassured.

He rested the trap back against the frame, and shone the ray of
an electric torch down into the darkness beneath him. The light
fell upon the top of a low carven table, dragon-legged and
gilded. Upon it rested the model pagoda constructed of human
teeth, and there was something in this discovery which made