"I think, Captain Hastings, that you will write that letter.
See, I have a cable form here.
The message I shall write on it depends on you, and means life or death for your wife."
The sweat broke out on my brow.
My tormentor continued, smiling amiably, and speaking with perfect sang-froid:
"There, captain, the pen is ready to your hand.
You have only to write.
If not -"
"If not?" I echoed.
"If not, that lady that you love dies - and dies slowly.
My master, Li Chang Yen, amuses himself in his spare hours by devising new and ingenious methods of tortures -"
"My God!" I cried. "You fiend!
Not that - you wouldn't do that -"
"Shall I recount to you some of his devices?"
Without heeding my cry of protest, his speech flowed on - evenly, serenely - till with a cry of horror I clapped my hands to my ears.
"It is enough, I see.
Take up the pen and write."
"You would not dare -"
"Your speech is foolishness, and you know it.
Take up the pen and write."
"If I do?"
"Your wife goes free.
The cable shall be despatched immediately."
"How do I know that you will keep faith with me?"
"I swear it to you on the sacred tombs of my ancestors.
Moreover, judge for yourself - why should I wish to do her harm?
Her detention will have answered its purpose."
"And - and Poirot?"
"We will keep him in safe custody until we have concluded our operations.
Then we will let him go."
"Will you swear that also on the tombs of your ancestors?"
"I have sworn one oath to you.
That should be sufficient."
My heart sank.
I was betraying my friend - to what?
For a moment I hesitated - then the terrible alternative rose like a nightmare before my eyes.
Cinderella - in the hands of these Chinese devils, dying by slow torture - A groan rose to my lips.
I seized the pen.
Perhaps by careful wording of the letter, I could convey a warning, and Poirot would be enabled to avoid the trap. It was the only hope.
But even that hope was not to remain.
The Chinaman's voice rose, suave and courteous.
"Permit me to dictate to you."
He paused, consulted a sheaf of notes that lay by his side, and then dictated as follows:
"Dear Poirot, "I think I'm on the track of Number Four.
A Chinaman came this afternoon and lured me down here with a bogus message.
Luckily I saw through his little game in time, and gave him the slip.
Then I turned the tables on him, and managed to do a bit of shadowing on my own account - rather neatly too, I flatter myself.
I'm getting a bright young lad to carry this to you.
Give him a half a crown, will you?
That's what I promised him if it was delivered safely.