"Unless what, Smith?" I said, looking my friend squarely in the eyes. "Unless she has learnt something, or--is flying away from some one!" My mind set in a whirl of hopes and fears, longings and dreads. "What do you mean, Smith?" I asked. "This is the place of danger, as we know to our cost; she was safe in Egypt." Nayland Smith commenced one of his restless perambulations, glancing at me from time to time and frequently tugging at the lobe of his ear. "_Was_ she safe in Egypt?" he rapped. "We are dealing, remember, with the Si-Fan, which, if I am not mistaken, is a sort of Eleusinian Mystery holding some kind of dominion over the eastern mind, and boasting initiates throughout the Orient. It is almost certain that there is an Egyptian branch, or group--call it what you will--of the damnable organization." "But Dr. Fu-Manchu----" "Dr. Fu-Manchu--for he lives, Petrie! my own eyes bear witness to the fact--Dr. Fu-Manchu is a sort of delegate from the headquarters. His prodigious genius will readily enable him to keep in touch with every branch of the movement, East and West." He paused to knock out his pipe into an ashtray and to watch me for some moments in silence. "He may have instructed his Cairo agents," he added significantly. "God grant she get to England in safety," I whispered. "Smith! can we make no move to round up the devils who defy us, here in the very heart of civilized England? Listen. You will not have forgotten the wild-cat Eurasian Zarmi?" Smith nodded. "I recall the lady perfectly!" he snapped. "Unless my imagination has been playing me tricks, I have seen her twice within the last few days--once in the neighborhood of this hotel and once in a cab in Piccadilly." "You mentioned the matter at the time," said Smith shortly; "but although I made inquiries, as you remember, nothing came of them." "Nevertheless, I don't think I was mistaken. I feel in my very bones that the Yellow hand of Fu-Manchu is about to stretch out again. If only we could apprehend Zarmi." Nayland Smith lighted his pipe with care. "If only we could, Petrie!" he said; "but, damn it!"--he dashed his left fist into the palm of his right hand--"we are doomed to remain inactive. We can only await the arrival of Kâramaneh and see if she has anything to tell us. I must admit that there are certain theories of my own which I haven't yet had an opportunity of testing. Perhaps in the near future such an opportunity may arise." How soon that opportunity was to arise neither of us suspected then; but Fate is a merry trickster, and even as we spoke of these matters events were brewing which were to lead us along strange paths.