Shan replied, with the air of one willing to
discuss the subject impartially, "might I remind you of Sen Lu, who died
in my box at the Albert Hall? For whom was that dagger thrust meant,
Immelan? Not for the man whom you had bought to betray me, the only one
of my suite who has ever been tempted with gold. That dagger thrust was
meant for me, and the assassin was one of your creatures. So even if
your words were true, Immelan, and the poison which you imagine to be in
your body were planted there by me, are we less than quits?"

Immelan's lie was unconvincing.

"I know nothing of Sen Lu's death," he declared. "I employ no assassins.
When there is killing to be done, I can do it myself. I am here to-night
for that purpose. You have deserted me at the last moment, Prince
Shan--played me and my country false for the sake of the English woman
whom you think to carry back with you to China. And you," he added,
turning with a sudden furious glance at Naida, "you have deceived the
man who trusted you, the man who sent you here for one purpose, and one
purpose only. You have done your best to ruin my scheme. Not only that,
but you have given the love which was mine--mine, I say--to another--an
Englishman! I hate you all! That is why I, a dying man, have crawled
here to reap my little harvest of vengeance.--You, Naida--you shall be
first--"

Naida was suddenly swung on one side, and the shot which rang out passed
through Nigel's coat sleeve, grazing his wrist,--the only shot that was
fired. Prince Shan, watching for his moment, as his two attendants threw
themselves upon the madman from behind, himself sprang forward, knocked
Immelan's right hand up with a terrible blow, and sent the revolver
crashing to the ground. It was a matter of a few seconds. Immelan, when
he felt himself seized, scarcely struggled. The courage of his madness
seemed to pass, the venom died out of his face, he shook like a man in
an ague. Prince Shan kicked the revolver on one side and looked
scornfully down upon him, now a nerveless wreck.

"Immelan," he said, "it is a pity that you did not wait until to-morrow
morning. You would then have known the truth. You are no more poisoned
than I am. If you had been in China--well, who knows? In England there
is so much prejudice against the taking of a worthless life that as a
guest I subscribed to it and mixed a little orris-root tooth powder
with your vermouth."

The man's eyes suddenly opened. He was feve