of crimson roses. Crimson roses express my temperament."

I listened in silence and a growing distaste.

"You have the look of a mule when it puts its ears

back and kicks. Well, I have delivered my warning.

Remember this, the third warning will come by the hand

of the Destroyer--"

She made a sign, and the car whirled away rapidly. I

noted the number mechanically, but without the hope

that it would lead to anything. The Big Four were not

apt to be careless in details.

I went home a little sobered. One fact had emerged

from the countess's flood of volubility. I was in real

danger of my life. Though I had no intention of abandoning the struggle, I saw that it behoved me to walk

warily and adopt every possible precaution.

Whilst I was reviewing all these facts and seeking for

the best line of action, the telephone bell rang. I crossed the room and picked up the reciever.

"Yes. Hallo. Who's speaking?"

A crisp voice answered me.

"This is St. Giles' Hospital. We have a Chinaman

here, knifed in the street and brought in. He can't last long. We rang you up because we found in his pocket a

piece of paper with your name and address on it."

I was very much astonished. Nevertheless, after a moment's reflection I said that I would come down at once.

St. Giles* Hospital was, I knew, down by the docks, and

it occurred to me that the Chinaman might have just

come off some ship.

It was on my way down there that a sudden suspicion

shot into my mind. Was the whole thing a trap? Wherever

a Chinaman was, there might be the hand of Li

Chang Yen. I remembered the adventure of the Baited

Trap. Was the whole thing a ruse on the part of my

enemies?

A little reflection convinced me that at any rate a visit to the hospital would do no harm. It was probable that

the thing was not so much a plot as what is vulgarly

known as a "plant." The dying Chinaman would make some revelation to me upon which I should act, and

which would have the result of leading me into the

hands of the Big Four. The thing to do was to preserve

an open mind, and whilst feigning credulity be secretly

on my guard.

On arriving at St. Giles' Hospital, and making my business known, I was taken at once to the accident ward, to the bedside of the man in question. He lay absolutely still, his eyelids closed, and only a very faint

movement of the chest showed that he still breathed. A

doctor stood by the bed, his fingers on the Chinaman's

pulse.

"He's almost gone," he whispered to me. "You know him, eh?"

I shook my head.

"I've never seen him before."

"Then what was he doing with your name and address

in his pocket? You are Captain Hastings, aren't

you?"

"Yes, but I can't explain it any more than you can."