Play@YSDC

"Thank you," says Diane to the shopkeeper with a bow before turning to Ann Veronica. "Yes, you're right. We need to tell them to meet us there."

Absolom Peredue Somerhayes

“Or some sort of incident to draw the authorities to the location. For if we simply send word, any message or note might be lost or mislaid by any wishing to do us harm”

Ann Veronica

"It's not very direct though Reverend. It could take a long time for word to get back to the Inspector. Perhaps we should send two messages."

Gordon notes the mood of indecision which seems to have overtaken the group. "Well, I for one am ready for a fine Chinese meal," he says, with a wry tone. "Given the reputation of this area of London, I doubt much attention will be paid to the fact that I have a rifle with me, carefully pointed at the ground. Self-defense and all that." He may be naively thinking that a man with a rifle, an ordinary sight in the forests of Canada, will be as acceptable in the great city of London.

"Isn't there a police station in Limehouse?" asks Diane. "We could leave the message for the Inspector there and ask them to relay it. Maybe they even have a telephone."

One may engage the services of a street urchin for a few pennies and thus an urgent message can be conveyed to the nearest police station. In lieu of the telephone the police make use of a telegraph system, and so the message may be relayed almost immediately on to Scotland Yard or elsewhere.

At Mr. McKerry's urging the party approaches the restaurant.

Thus proclaims the sign above the two-story building nestled at the end of a dim cul-de-sac too narrow for a carriage to enter. Gough Street and its immediate surrounds, it will be noted, seem dull and empty, dark and filthy. However, within the softly-lit ground floor windows of the restaurant can be seen both Orientals and Occidentals alike dining at numerous compartmented tables.

The hour is a little before eight o'clock.

Regarding weapons:

Ann Veronica suddenly realizes that she hasn’t eaten for a while, and starts to feel very hungry. She doubts that they will have a chance to eat though.

She opens her handbag, and checks to make sure she still has her knife.

Absolom Peredue Somerhayes

Despite the conditions of the surroundings, Absolom starts up the alleyway towards the dimly lit restaurant. Oh well,he thinks, in for a penny and all that, yet he takes a firmer hold on his walking stick which now seems a most miserable weapon.

Diane is grateful for the pistol in her handbag, though she has never fired one before in her life and is probably not a very good shot with one. While she is afraid, she tries to shore up her courage and that of her companions before they head inside. "We few," she says, "we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition; and gentlemen in England now a-bed shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here; and hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispian's day."

Inside you are greeted by the warm smells of food, low murmur of conversation and clinking of utensils. The dining area of The House of the Yellow Dragon is made up of numerous compartments made private by high walls and curtains. A doorway to the busy kitchens can be seen to the left of the entrance. The other diners give the new arrivals no more than a cursory glance.

After a moment the group is approached by a Chinese man in his late fifties. Slightly-built but still very spry, he has a thin graying moustache and wears black robes chased with red and yellow dragon designs.

"Greetings, honorable sirs and ladies," he says, bowing in a deferential manner. "I am Lee Ho Fook, owner of humble establishment. You come to visit paradise, yes? But first you must eat."

His smile is unctuous, his voice smooth. He gestures toward a vacant compartment while a waiter hovers nearby in readiness. Upon the wall is the tattered 'Bill of Fare' listing such exotic dishes as Sweet and Sour Pork, Gong Bao Chicken, Ma Po Tofu, Wontons, Chow Mein and Peking Roasted Duck.

Making sure they are not overheard, James whispers to his companions: "I think we have to order something, otherwise we'll look suspicious... However, not sure I want to actually eat anything, as I would not put it past them to try and poison our food..."

Ann Veronica knows almost nothing about Chinese food, but her stomach is rumbling in spite of everything.

“Why don’t we get a big dish of beef chow mein?” she asks the others.

"Yes, that does sound delicious," says Diane.

Gordon is intrigued by the host's words. "Indeed, venerable sir, we seek the way to paradise. Meanwhile, we will gladly partake of your excellent fare. And perhaps some of your delicious tea?"

Ann Veronica almost jumps in her seat when she hears Gordon's words – she has just realized what they may mean. She whispers in Diane’s ear so that Lee Ho Fook won’t hear.

Diane,[color=#0000BF]“[b]Diane[/b], I think this may be an opium den!”[/color]

Diane's mouth forms an O. Such a thing had never occurred to her, but it makes perfect sense, and she nods.

Entering the dining compartment, the waiter closes the curtain for privacy and you are served food and tea as requested. Those who venture to sample the fare find it edifying according to personal taste; no ill-effects are felt in spite of Professor Powell's misgivings.

Toward the end of the meal, Lee Ho Fook steps through the curtain and, after inquiring as to your enjoyment of the food, crosses to the back wall and opens what is revealed to be a secret door there. Beyond is a stairwell leading up to the floor above. At the bottom of the stairs stands a mountainous tattoed Chinese man with a single long braid of hair hanging down the back of his neck.

"These are honored guests, Guang Lun," Lee Ho Fook declares.

The big guard, for such he appears to be, regards you suspiciously in turn. "Is one shilling each to enter. You give all weapons to me."

Everyone:

Gordon realizes he has very little chance of concealing a rifle from the hulking guard. It would seem best to show full co-operation, and perhaps distract the fellow's attention away from the others.

"Certainly, my good fellow. Your precaution does you honor. Here is a shilling, and a little something extra for your trouble." He hands over the weapon and a few coins.

Ann Veronica decides not to risk it. Perhaps they haven't been recognized yet, so it would be better not to make a fuss. She hands over her knife along with a shilling.