I gave a sigh of relief.
"You will send it at once?" I urged.
He smiled, and shook his head.
"When M. Hercule Poirot is in my hands it shall be sent. Not until then."
"But you promised—"
"If this device fails, I may have need of our white bird—to persuade you to further efforts."
I grew white with anger.
"My God! If you—"
He waved a long slim yellow hand.
"Be reassured, I do not think it will fail. And the moment M. Poirot is in our hands, I will keep my oath."