"Where? But chez vous\"

I looked round me. True enough, I was in the old

familiar surroundings. And in the grate were the identical four knobs of coal I had carefully spilt there.

Poirot had followed my glance.

"But yes, that was a famous idea of yours--that and the books. See you, if they should say to me any time,

'That friend of yours, that Hastings, he has not the

great brain, is it not so?' I shall reply to them: 'You are in error.' It was an idea magnificent and superb that occurred to you there."

"You understood their meaning then?"

?"Am I an imbecile? Of course I understood. It gave me just the warning I needed, and the time to mature my

plans. Somehow or other the Big Four had carried you

off. With what object? Clearly not for your beaux

yeux--equally clearly not because they feared you and

wanted to get you out of the way. No, their object was

plain. You would be used as a decoy to get the great

Hercule Poirot into their clutches. I have long been

prepared for something of the kind. I make my little

preparations, and presently, sure enough, the messenger

arrives--such an innocent little street urchin. Me, I

swallow everything, and hasten away with him, and,

very fortunately, they permit you to come out on the

doorstep. That was my one fear, that I should have to

dispose of them before I had reached the place where

you were concealed, and that I should have to search for you--perhaps in vain--afterwards."

"Dispose of them, did you say?" I asked feebly.

"Single-handed."

"Oh, there is nothing very clever about that. If one is prepared in advance all is simple--the motto of the Boy

Scout, is it not? And a very fine one. Me, I was prepared. Not so long ago, I rendered a service to a very famou;.

chemist, who did a lot of work in connection

with poison gas during the war. He devised for me a

little bomb--simple and easy to carry about--one has

but to throw it and poof, the smoke--and then the unconsciousness. Immediately I blow a little whistle and

straightway some of Japp's clever fellows who were

watching the house here long before the boy arrived,

and who managed to follow us all the way to Limehouse,

came flying up and took charge of the situation."

"But how was it you weren't unconscious too?"

"Another piece of luck. Our friend Number Four

(who certainly composed that ingenious letter) permitted himself a little jest at my moustaches, which

rendered it extremely easy for me to adjust my respirator under the guise of a yellow muffler."

"I remember," I cried eagerly, and then with the word "Remember" all the ghastly horror that I had temporarily forgotten came back to me. Cinderella-I fell back with a groan. I must have lost consciousness again for a minute or

two. I awoke to find Poirot forcing some brandy between

my lips.