here or
in China! He relies upon one thing; upon striking first and striking
surely. Why is he so confident? I do not know. Therefore I am afraid."

Again a cold shudder ran icily through me. A piece of coal dropped
lower into the dying fire--and my heart leapt wildly. Then, in a flash,
I remembered something.

"Smith!" I cried, "the letter! We have not looked at the letter."

Nayland Smith laid his pipe upon the mantelpiece and smiled grimly.
From his pocket he took out square piece of paper, and thrust it close
under my eyes.

"I remembered it as I passed your borrowed garment--which bear no
maker's name--on my way to the bedroom for matches," he said.

The paper was covered with Chinese characters!

"What does it mean?" I demanded breathlessly.

Smith uttered a short, mirthless laugh.

"It states that an attempt of a particularly dangerous nature is to be
made upon my life to-night, and it recommends me to guard the door,
and advises that you watch the window overlooking the court, and keep
your pistol ready for instant employment." He stared at me oddly. "How
should you act in the circumstances, Petrie?"

"I should strongly distrust such advice. Yet--what else can we _do?_"

"There are several alternatives, but I prefer to follow the advice of
Ki-Ming."

The clock of St. Paul's chimed the half-hour: half-past two.

CHAPTER XXIX

LAMA SORCERY

From my post in the chair by the window I could see two sides of the
court below; that immediately opposite, with the entrance to some
chambers situated there, and that on the right, with the cloisteresque
arches beyond which lay a maze of old-world passages and stairs
whereby one who knew the tortuous navigation might come ultimately
to the Embankment.

It was this side of the court which lay in deepest shadow. By altering
my position quite slightly I could command a view of the arched
entrance on the left with its pale lamp in an iron bracket above, and
of the high blank wall whose otherwise unbroken expanse it interrupted.
All was very still; only on occasions the passing of a vehicle along
Fleet Street would break the silence.

The nature of the danger that threatened I was wholly unable to
surmise. Since, my pistol on the table beside me, I sat on guard at
the window, and Smith, also armed, watched the outer door, it was not
apparent by what agency the shadowy enemy could hope to come at us.

Something strange I had detected in Nayland Smith's m