“We will keep him in safe custody until we have concluded our operations. Then we will let him go.”

“Will you swear that also on the tombs of your ancestors?”

“I have sworn one oath to you. That should be sufficient.”

My heart sank. I was betraying my friend⁠—to what? For a moment I hesitated⁠—then the terrible alternative rose like a nightmare before my eyes. Cinderella⁠—in the hands of these Chinese devils, dying by slow torture⁠—

A groan rose to my lips. I seized the pen. Perhaps by careful wording of the letter, I could convey a warning, and Poirot would be enabled to avoid the trap. It was the only hope.

But even that hope was not to remain. The Chinaman’s voice rose, suave and courteous.

“Permit me to dictate to you.”