"I will talk to him! But the others, the black-coated one—what of them? They would like the feel of your blood on their hands, too!"
Peter nodded anxiously. He was thinking of Romola Borria.
"I will do anything," declared the maid from Macassar patiently.
"Has your grandmother a sampan, a trustworthy coolie?"
"Aie, birahi! She is rich!"
"Then have that coolie be at the Hong Kong landing stage with his sampan at midnight. Have him wait until morning. If I do not come by dawn he will return immediately to Canton. By dawn, if I am not there, it will mean——"
"Death?" The small voice was tremulous.
Peter nodded.
"If the fokie returns with that message, you will write a short note——"
"To one you love?"