Mrs. Pearson put her head in once more.
"A note for you, Captain - brought by a heathen Chinaman.
He's a-waiting downstairs."
I seized it from her.
It was brief and to the point.
"If you ever wish to see your wife again, go with the bearer of this note immediately.
Leave no message for your friend or she will suffer."
It was signed with a big 4.
What ought I to have done?
What would you who read have done in my place?
I had no time to think.
I saw only one thing - Cinderella in the power of those devils.
I must obey - I dare not risk a hair of her head.
I must go with this Chinaman and follow whither he led.
It was a trap, yes, and it meant certain capture and possible death, but it was baited with the person dearest to me in the whole world, and I dared not hesitate.
What irked me most was to leave no word for Poirot.
Once set him on my track, and all might yet be well? Dare I risk it?
Apparently I was under no supervision, but yet I hesitated.
It would have been so easy for the Chinaman to come up and assure himself that I was keeping to the letter of the command.
Why didn't he?
His very abstention made me more suspicious.
I had seen so much of the omnipotence of the Big Four that I credited them with almost super-human powers.
For all I know, even the little bedraggled servant girl might be one of their agents.
No, I dared not risk it.
But one thing I could do, leave the telegram.
He would know then that Cinderella had disappeared, and who was responsible for her disappearance.
All this passed through my head in less time than it takes to tell, and I had clapped my hat on my head and was descending the stairs to where my guide waited, in a little over a minute.
The bearer of the message was a tall impassive Chinaman, neatly but rather shabbily dressed.
He bowed and spoke to me.
His English was perfect, but he spoke with a slight sing-song intonation.
"You Captain Hastings?"
"Yes," I said.
"You give me note, please."
I had foreseen the request, and handed him over the scrap of paper without a word.
But that was not all.
"You have telegram today, yes?
Come along just now?
From South America, yes?"
I realised anew the excellence of their espionage system - or it might have been a shrewd guess.
Bronsen was bound to cable me.
They would wait until the cable was delivered and would strike hard upon it.
No good could come of denying what was palpably true.
"Yes," I said. "I did get a telegram."
"You fetch him, yes?
Fetch him now."
I ground my teeth, but what could I do.
I ran upstairs again.
As I did so, I thought of confiding in Mrs. Pearson, at any rate as far as Cinderella's disappearance went.
She was on the landing, but close behind her was the little maid servant, and I hesitated.
If she was a spy - the words of the note danced before my eyes. "... she will suffer..." I passed into the sitting-room without speaking.