"That, certainly, was alarming," he confessed. "I had been in London for a few days, and during my absence Vernon came down, bringing the dog with him. On the night of his arrival it ran, barking, into the shrubbery yonder, and did not come out. He went to look for it with a lantern, and found it lying among the bushes, quite dead. The poor creature had been dreadfully beaten about the head." "The gates were locked," Denby interrupted, "and no one could have got out of the grounds without a ladder and someone to assist him. But there was no sign of a living thing about. Edwards and I searched every corner." "How long has that other dog taken to howling?" inquired Smith. "Only since Rex's death," said Denby quickly. "It is my mastiff," explained the clergyman, "and he is confined in the yard. He is never allowed on this side of the house." Nayland Smith wandered aimlessly about the library. "I am sorry to have to press you, Mr. Eltham," he said, "but what was the nature of the warning to which you referred, and from whom did it come?" Mr. Eltham hesitated for a long time. "I have been so unfortunate," he said at last, "in my previous efforts, that I feel assured of your hostile criticism when I tell you that I am contemplating an immediate return to Ho-Nan!" Smith jumped round upon him as though moved by a spring. "Then you are going back to Nan-Yang?" he cried. "Now I understand! Why have you not told me before? That is the key for which I have vainly been seeking. Your troubles date from the time of your decision to return?" "Yes, I must admit it," confessed the clergyman diffidently. "And your warning came from China?" "It did." "From a Chinaman?" "From the Mandarin, Yen-Sun-Yat." "Yen-Sun-Yat! My good sir! He warned you to abandon your visit? And you reject his advice? Listen to me." Smith was intensely excited now, his eyes bright, his lean figure curiously strung up, alert. "The Mandarin Yen-Sun-Yat is one of the seven!" "I do not follow you, Mr. Smith." "No, sir. China to-day is not the China of '98. It is a huge secret machine, and Ho-Nan one of its most important wheels! But if, as I understand, this official is a friend of yours, believe me, he has saved your life! You would be a dead man now if it were not for your friend in China! My dear sir, you must accept his counsel." Then, for the first time since I had made his acquaintance, "Parson Dan" showed through the surface of the Rev. J. D. Eltham. "No, sir!" replied the clergyman--and the change in his voice was startling. "I am called to Nan-Yang. Only One may deter my going." The admixture of deep spiritual reverence with intense truculence in his voice was dissimilar from anything I ever had heard. "Then only One can protect you," cried Smith, "for, by Heaven, no MAN will be able to do so! Your presence in Ho-Nan can do no possible good at present. It must do harm. Your experience in 1900 should be fresh in your memory."