I examined the peculiarity to which Smith had drawn my attention. The dead man's fingers were swollen extraordinarily, the index finger of either hand especially being oddly discolored, as though bruised from the nail upward. I looked again at the ghastly face, then, repressing a shudder, for the sight was one not good to look upon, I turned to Smith, who was watching me expectantly with his keen, steely eyes. From his pocket the took out a knife containing a number of implements, amongst them a hook-like contrivance. "Have you a button-hook, Petrie," he asked, "or anything of that nature?" "How will this do?" said the Inspector, and he produced a pair of handcuffs. "They were not wanted," he added significantly. "Better still," declared Smith. Reclosing his knife, he took the handcuffs from Weymouth, and, returning to the sitting-room, opened them widely and inserted two steel points in the hollows of the golden pomegranates. He pulled. There was a faint sound of moving mechanism and the wooden lid lifted, revealing the interior of the coffer. It contained three long bars of lead--and nothing else! Supporting the lid with the handcuffs-- "Just pull the light over here, Petrie," said Smith. I did as he directed. "Look into these two cavities where one is expected to thrust one's fingers!" Weymouth and I craned forward so that our heads came into contact. "My God!" whispered the Inspector, "we know now what killed him!" Visible, in either little cavity against the edge of the steel handcuff, was the point of a needle, which evidently worked in an exquisitely made socket through which the action of raising the lid caused it to protrude. Underneath the lid, midway between the two pomegranates, as I saw by slowly moving the lamp, was a little receptacle of metal communicating with the base of the hollow needles. The action of lifting the lid not only protruded the points but also operated the hypodermic syringe! "Note," snapped Smith--but his voice was slightly hoarse. He removed the points of the bracelets. The box immediately reclosed with no other sound than a faint click. "God forgive him," said Smith, glancing toward the other room, "for he died in my stead!--and Dr. Fu-Manchu scores an undeserved failure!" CHAPTER XV ZARMI REAPPEARS "Come in!" I cried. The door opened and a page-boy entered. "A cable for Dr. Petrie." I started up from my chair. A thousand possibilities--some of a sort to bring dread to my heart--instantly occurred to me. I tore open the envelope and, as one does, glanced first at the name of the sender. It was signed "Kâramaneh!" "Smith!" I said hoarsely, glancing over the massage, "Kâramaneh is on her way to England. She arrives by the _Nicobar_ to-morrow!" "Eh?" cried Nayland Smith, in turn leaping to his feet. "She had no right to come alone, unless----" The boy, open-mouthed, was listening to our conversation, and I hastily thrust a coin into his hand and dismissed him. As the door closed--