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 receiver.

“Yes. Hallo. Who’s speaking?”

A crisp voice answered me.

“This is St. Giles’s 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 pockets a piece of paper with your name and address on it.”