nation to
smuggle me into China--but what did he purpose in the case of Weymouth,
and in the case of Nayland Smith?

All but silently we were feeling our way through the mist. Astern died
the clangor of dock and wharf into a remote discord. Ahead hung the
foggy curtain veiling the traffic of the great waterway; but through it
broke the calling of sirens, the tinkling of bells.

The gentle movement of the screw ceased altogether. The launch lay
heaving slightly upon the swells.

A distant throbbing grew louder--and something advanced upon us through
the haze.

A bell rang and muffled by the fog a voice proclaimed itself--a voice
which I knew. I felt Weymouth writhing impotently beside me; heard him
mumbling incoherently; and I knew that he, too, had recognized the
voice.

It was that of Inspector Ryman of the river police and their launch was
within biscuit-throw of that upon which we lay!

"'Hoy! 'Hoy!"

I trembled. A feverish excitement claimed me. They were hailing us.
We carried no lights; but now--and ignoring the pain which shot from my
spine to my skull I craned my neck to the left--the port light of the
police launch glowed angrily through the mist.

I was unable to utter any save mumbling sounds, and my companions were
equally helpless. It was a desperate position. Had the police seen us
or had they hailed at random? The light drew nearer.

"Launch, 'hoy!"

They had seen us! Fu-Manchu's guttural voice spoke shortly--and our
screw began to revolve again; we leaped ahead into the bank of
darkness. Faint grew the light of the police launch--and was gone.
But I heard Ryman's voice shouting.

"Full speed!" came faintly through the darkness. "Port! Port!"

Then the murk closed down, and with our friends far astern of us we
were racing deeper into the fog banks--speeding seaward; though of this
I was unable to judge at the time.

On we raced, and on, sweeping over growing swells. Once, a black,
towering shape dropped down upon us. Far above, lights blazed, bells
rang, vague cries pierced the fog. The launch pitched and rolled
perilously, but weathered the wash of the liner which so nearly had
concluded this episode. It was such a journey as I had taken once
before, early in our pursuit of the genius of the Yellow Peril; but
this was infinitely more terrible; for now we were utterly in
Fu-Manchu's power.

A voice mumbled in my ear. I turned my bound-up face; and Inspector
Weymouth