"Where is she? What have you done with her out there?"
"She is in a place of safety--where none will find her. As yet, she is
unharmed. You observe that I say--_as yet_!"
Cold shivers ran down my spine as I confronted this smiling devil.
"What do you want?" I cried. "Money?"
"My dear Captain Hastings. We have no designs on your small savings, I
can assure you. Not--pardon me--a very intelligent suggestion on your
part. Your colleague would not have made it, I fancy."
"I suppose," I said heavily, "you wanted to get me into your toils.
Well, you have succeeded. I have come here with my eyes open. Do what
you like with me, and let her go. She knows nothing, and she can be no
possible use to you. You've used her to get hold of me--you've got me
all right, and that settles it."
The smiling Oriental caressed his smooth cheek, watching me obliquely
out of his narrow eyes.
"You go too fast," he said purringly. "That does not quite--settle it.
In fact, to 'get hold of you' as you express it, is not really our
objective. But through you, we hope to get hold of your friend, M.
Hercule Poirot."
"I'm afraid you won't do that," I said, with a short laugh.
"What I suggest is this," continued the other, his words running on as
though he had not heard me.
"You will write M. Hercule Poirot a letter, such a letter as will
induce him to hasten hither and join you."
"I shall do no such thing," I said angrily.
"The consequences of refusal will be disagreeable."
"Damn your consequences."
"The alternative might be death!"
A nasty shiver ran down my spine, but I endeavoured to put a bold face
upon it.
"It's no good threatening me, and bullying me. Keep your threats for
Chinese cowards."
"My threats are very real ones, Captain Hastings. I ask you again, will
you write this letter?"
"I will not, and what's more, you daren't kill me. You'd have the
police on your tracks in no time."
My interlocutor clapped his hands swiftly. Two Chinese attendants
appeared as it were out of the blue, and pinioned me by both arms.
Their master said something rapidly to them in Chinese, and they
dragged me across the floor to a spot in one corner of the big chamber.
One of them stooped, and suddenly, without the least warning, the
flooring gave beneath my feet. But for the restraining hand of the
other man I should have gone down the yawning gap beneath me. It was
inky black, and I could hear the rushing of water.
"The river," said my questioner from his place on the divan. "Think
well, Captain Hastings. If you refuse again, you go headlong to
eternity, to meet your death in the dark waters below. For the last
time, will you write that letter?"
I'm not braver than most men. I admit frankly that I was scared to
death, and in a blue funk. That Chinese devil meant business, I was
sure of that. It was good-bye to the good old world. In spite of
myself, my voice wobbled a little as I answered.
"For the last time, no! To hell with your letter!"
Then involuntarily I closed my eyes and breathed a short prayer.