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"Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the

steps-for the house was none other than the opium den in which

you found me to-night-and running through the front room she

attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At

the foot of the stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of

whom I have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who

acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. Filled

with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the

lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in Fresno Street a number of

constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. The

inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the

continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to

the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no

sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was

no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who,

it seems, made his home there.