"You know him, then?"

"I've met him once. And I know something of him-not quite as much as I should like to. But it surprises me that any one else in England should even have heard of

him. He's a great man in his way--mandarin class and

all that, you know--but that's not the crux of the matter. There's good reason to suppose that he's the man

behind it all."

"Behind what?"

"Everything. The world-wide unrest, the labour

troubles that beset every nation, and the revolutions

that break out in some. There are people, not scaremongers, who know what they are talking about, and

they say that there is a force behind the scenes which

aims at nothing less then the disintegration of civilisation. In Russia, you know, there were many signs

that Lenin and Trotsky were mere puppets whose every

action was dictated by another's brain. I have no definite proof that would count with you, but I am quite

convinced that this brain was Li Chang Yen's."

"Oh, come," I protested, "isn't that a bit farfetched?

How would a Chinaman cut any ice in

Russia?"

Poirot frowned at me irritably.

"For you, Hastings," he said, "everything is farfetched that comes not from your own imagination; for

me, I agree with this gentleman. But continue, I pray,

monsieur."

"What exactly he hopes to get out of it all I cannot

THE BIG FOUR 23

pretend to say for certain," went on Mr. Ingles; "but I assume his disease is one that has attacked great brains from the time of Akbar and Alexander to Napoleon—a

lust for power and personal supremacy. Up to modern

times armed force was necessary for conquest, but in

this century of unrest a man like Li Chang Yen can use

other means. I have evidence that he has unlimited

money behind him for bribery and propaganda, and

there are signs that he controls some scientific force

more powerful than the world has dreamed of."

Poirot was following Mr. Ingles's words with the

closest attention.

"And in China?" he asked. "He moves there too?" The other nodded in emphatic assent.

"There," he said, "although I can produce no proof that would count in a court of law, I speak from my

own knowledge. I know personally every man who

counts for anything in China to-day, and this I can tell you: the men who loom most largely in the public eye

are men of little or no personality. They are marionettes who dance to the wires pulled by a master hand, and

that hand is Li Chang Yen's. His is the controlling brain of the East to-day. We don't understand the East—we

never shall; but Li Chang Yen is its moving spirit. Not

that he comes out into the limelight—oh, not at all; he

never moves from his palace in Pekin. But he pulls

strings—that's it, pulls strings—and things happen far

away."

"And is there no one to oppose him?" asked Poirot. Mr. Ingles leant forward in his chair.