"Max!" murmured Stuart, staggering to his feet—"Max!"
"Nom d'un nom! Two dead men meet!" exclaimed Gaston Max. "But indeed"—he grasped Stuart by both hands and his voice shook with emotion—"I thank God that I see you!"
Stuart was dazed. Words failed him, and he swayed dizzily.
"I thought you were murdered," said Max, still grasping his hand, "and I perceive that you had made the same mistake about me! Do you know what saved me, my friend, from the consequences of that frightful blow? It was the bandage of 'Le Balafre'!"
"You must possess a skull like a negro's!" said Stuart feebly.
"I believe I have a skull like a baboon!" returned Max, laughing with joyous excitement. "And you, doctor, you must possess a steel wind-pipe; for flesh and blood could never have survived the pressure of that horrible pigtail. You will rejoice to learn that Miguel was arrested on the Dover boat-train this morning and Ah-Fang-Fu at Tilbury Dock some four hours ago. So we are both avenged! But we waste time!"
He unscrewed a flask and handed it to Stuart.
"A terrible experience has befallen you," he said. "But tell me—do you know where it is—the lair of 'The Scorpion'?"
"I do!" replied Stuart, having taken a welcome draught from the flask. "Where is Dunbar? We must carefully surround the place or he will elude us."
"Ah! as he eluded us at 'The Pidgin House'!" cried Max. "Do you know what happened? They had a motorboat in the very cellar of that warren. At high tide they could creep out into the cutting, drawing their craft along from pile to pile, and reach the open river at a point fifty yards above the house! In the damnable darkness they escaped. But we have two of them."