"Because--I HAVE
KILLED A MAN."
Bowing, smiling, rustling, Kao turned to the door. "That is all, Peter
Kirkstone. Good night. John Keith, will you follow me?"
Dumbly Keith followed through the dark corridor, into the big room
mellow with candle-glow, back to the table with its mocking tea-urn and
chinaware. He felt a thing like clammy sweat on his back. He sat down.
And Kao sat opposite him again.
"That is the reason, John Keith. Peter Kirkstone, her brother, is a
murderer, a cold-blooded murderer. And only Miriam Kirkstone and your
humble servant, Prince Kao, know his secret. And to buy my secret, to
save his life, the golden-headed goddess is almost ready to give
herself to me--almost, John Keith. She will decide tonight, when you go
to her. She will come. Yes, she will come tonight. I do not fear. I
have prepared for her the candles, the bridal dais, the nuptial supper.
Oh, she will come. For if she does not, if she fails, with tomorrow's
dawn Peter Kirkstone and John Keith both go to the hangman!"
Keith, in spite of the horror that had come over him, felt no
excitement. The whole situation was clear to him now, and there was
nothing to be gained by argument, no possibility of evasion.
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