shadows, where the unseen George (whom I suspected

of being the impeccable Deaves), gagged and bound me

securely.

Ryland spoke again in a tone which I had difficulty in

recognising, so cold and menacing was it.

"This is going to be the end of you two. You've got in the way of the Big Four once too often. Ever heard of

land slides? There was one about here two years ago.

There's going to be another to-night. I've fixed that

good and square. Say, that friend of yours doesn't keep

his dates very punctually."

A wave of horror swept over me. Poirot! In another

minute lie would walk straight into the trap. And I was

powerless to warn him. I could only pray that he had

elected to leave the matter in my hands, and had remained in London. Surely, if he had been coming, he

would have been here by now.

With every minute that passed, my hopes rose.

Suddenly they were dashed to pieces. I heard footsteps--cautious footsteps, but footsteps nevertheless. I

writhed in impotent agony. They came down the path,

paused, and then Poirot himself appeared, his head a

little on one side, peering into the shadows.

I heard the growl of satisfaction Ryland gave as he

raised the big automatic and shouted "Hands up." Deaves sprang forward as he did so, and took Poirot in

the rear. The ambush was complete.

"Please to meet you, Mr. Hercule Poirot," said the American grimly.

84 Agatha Christie

Poirot's self-possession was marvellous. He did not

turn a hair. But I saw his eyes searching in the shadows.

"My friend? He is here?"

"Yes, you are both in the trap—the trap of the Big

Four."

He laughed.

"A trap?" queried Poirot.

"Say, haven't you tumbled to it yet?"

"I comprehend that there is a trap—yes," said Poirot gently. "But you are in error, monsieur. It is you who are in it—not I and my friend."

"What?" Ryland raised the big automatic, but I saw his gaze falter.

"If you fire, you commit murder watched by ten pairs of eyes, and you will be hanged for it. This place is surrounded—has been for the last hour—by Scotland Yard

men. It is checkmate, Mr. Abe Ryland."

He uttered a curious whistle, and as though by magic,

the place was alive with men. They seized Ryland and

the valet and disarmed them. After speaking a few

words to the officer in charge, Poirot took me by the

arm, and led me away.

Once clear of the quarry he embraced me with vigour.

"You are alive—you are unhurt. It is magnificent.

Often have I blamed myself for letting you go."

"I'm perfectly all right," I said, disengaging myself.

"But I'm just a big fogged. You tumbled to their little scheme, did you?"

"But I was waiting for it! For what else did I permit you to go there? Your false name, your disguise, not for a moment was it intended to deceive!"

"What?" I cried. "You never told me."