ere rising; and presently up came the livid
face of the drowning man, still having those glazed eyes turned,
immovably, upon the mandarin. For nearly five seconds that hideous,
distorted face gazed from amid the mass of blooms, then it sank
again ... and rose no more."

"What!" I cried, "do you mean to tell me----"

"Ki-Ming struck a gong. Another servant appeared with a fresh bowl of
water; and the mandarin calmly resumed his dinner!"

I drew a deep breath and raised my hand to my head.

"It is almost unbelievable," I said. "But what completely passes my
comprehension is his allowing me to depart unscathed, having once held
me in his power. Why the long harangue and the pose of friendship?

"That point is not so difficult."

"What!"

"That does not surprise me in the least. You may recollect that Dr.
Fu-Manchu entertains for you an undoubted affection, distinctly Chinese
in its character, but nevertheless an affection! There is no intention
of assassinating _you_, Petrie; _I_ am the selected victim."

I started up.

"Smith! what do you mean? What danger, other than that which has
threatened us for over two years, threatens us to-night?"

"Now you come to the point which _does_ puzzle me. I believe I stated
awhile ago that I was afraid. You have placed your finger upon the
cause of my fear. _What_ threatens us to-night?"

He spoke the words in such a fashion that they seemed physically to
chill me. The shadows of the room grew menacing; the very silence
became horrible. I longed with a terrible longing for company, for the
strength that is in numbers; I would have had the place full to
overflowing--for it seemed that we two, condemned by the mysterious
organization called the Si-Fan, were at that moment surrounded by the
entire arsenal of horrors at the command of Dr. Fu-Manchu. I broke
that morbid silence. My voice had assumed an unnatural tone.

"Why do you dread this man, Ki-Ming, so much?"

"Because he must be aware that I know he is in London."

"Well?"

"Dr. Fu-Manchu has no official status. Long ago, his Legation denied
all knowledge of his existence. But the mandarin Ki-Ming is known to
every diplomat in Europe, Asia and American almost. Only _I_, and now
yourself, know that he is a high official of the Si-Fan; Ki-Ming is
aware that I know. Why, therefore, does he risk his neck in London?"

"He relies upon his national cunning."

"Petrie, he is aware that I hold evidence to hang him, either