The boy, open-mouthed, was listening to our conversation, and I hastily thrust a coin into his hand and dismissed him. As the door closed—
"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.