The tomb of Ts'in

“Ship’s papers in envelope--confidential report on the working of the new condenser--and a green mailbag,” he said.

Tillizinni was interested.

“Green mailbag?”

The captain nodded.

“That’s the Ambassador’s bag and is brought from the Court of Pekin to the ship by special messenger, and taken from me in London by a man from the Embassy.”

“You see,” he explained, “the Chinese Government always sends its mails like that--its Embassy mails, I mean. I bring ’em every trip. They don’t trust the Embassy despatches over the Trans-Siberian Railway. They think that the Russians go through ’em.”

“I see,” said Tillizinni.

It was very clear what the objective had been. The green mailbag offered an irresistible temptation to somebody who knew its contents.

“There was nothing else?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said.

There was little to do save to continue inquiries at the Chinese Embassy. Here, however, Tillizinni met with a check. A letter from the Embassy informed him that nothing of the slightest importance was contained in the bag. The letter continued:

“In this particular mail there were no official documents whatever, the bag being made up of a number of his Excellency’s personal effects. These were in the nature of rare Chinese documents which his Excellency had sent for from his home in Che-foo, to assist him in the writing of an article which he is preparing for the North American Review. As Signor Tillizinni may know, his Excellency is an enthusiastic student of Chinese history, and has the finest private collection of historical documents relating to China in the world.”

This letter came to Tillizinni at a moment when he had ample time to devote to the elucidation of the problem.

Our Italian friend was and is a peculiar man. He credited thieves of persistent characters, such as these men undoubtedly possessed, with intelligence out of the ordinary.

Whosoever made the attempt upon the safe of the China boat were well aware of the “worthlessness” of the safe’s contents, and it was apparent that, worthless or not, the burglars had decided that to have them was worth the risk.

The passenger list was a small one, but it took a week to sort them out and establish their innocence. For the most part they were Customs officials and British officers returning home on leave; and the week-end found me with only two “doubtfuls.”

The first of these was almost beyond suspicion. A Mr. de Costa, a shipowner of sorts, was one, and Captain Talham was another.

Mr. de Costa, whom Tillizinni visited was, I should imagine, descended from a Portuguese family. A short, stout man, rather yellow of face, and bearing traces of his descent. He seemed the last person in the world to be suspected of commonplace felony.

Of Captain Talham, only fragmentary information was obtainable. He had apparently held a commission in a regiment of Irregular Horse during the South African war, and at the conclusion of hostilities he had gone to China in search of the adventure which at that time the great empire offered.

Beyond the fact that he had gone to China as far inland as Lau-tcheu; that he had been arrested later at Saigon in Cochin China, over some dispute with a French naval officer, and that he had a few months in Kuala Kangsan in Perak, little could be learnt about him. Later Tillizinni was destined to meet him, and discover much at first hand, for just as there was none so perfectly acquainted with his life, so there was none as willing to talk so freely about Captain Talham--as Captain Talham.

Here, then, with the conclusion of Tillizinni’s unsatisfactory inquiries, the incident of the China Packet might have closed and have been relegated to the obscurity which is reserved for petty felonies, but for the events which followed the publication of the Ambassador’s article.

From hereon I tell the story, suppressing nothing save that which may appear too flattering to Tillizinni. Such of the events which Tillizinni did not actually witness, I have written from information afforded me by the principal actors in this strangest of modern dramas.