everal cases were undoubtedly similar in a
number of respects. But it was the remarkable question asked by Van
Rembold which particularly aroused my interest.

Of course it might prove to be nothing more than a coincidence, but
when one comes to consider how rarely the word "scorpion" is used,
outside those in which these insects abound, it appears to be
something more. Van Rembold, then, had had some occasion to feel
curious about the scorpions; the name "Scorpion" was associated
with the Hindu follower of Zara el-Khala; and she was who had
brought the Grand Duke to Paris, where he had died.

Oh! it was a very fragile thread, but by following such a thread as
this we are sometimes led to the heart of a labyrinth.

Beyond wondering if some sinister chain bound together this series of
apparently natural deaths I might have made no move in the matter, but
something occurred which spurred me to action. Sir Frank Narcombe, the
great English surgeon, collapsed in the foyer of a London theatre and
died shortly afterwards. Here again I perceived a case of a notable
man succumbing unexpectedly in a public place--a case parallel to that
of the Grand Duke, of Ericksen, of Van Rembold! it seemed as though
some strange epidemic had attacked men of science--yes! they were all
men of science, even including the Grand Duke, who was said to be the
most scientific soldier in Europe, and the admiral, who had perfected
the science of submarine warfare.

"The Scorpion!" ... that name haunted me persistently. So much so that
at last I determined to find out for myself if Sir Frank Narcombe had
ever spoken about a scorpion or if there was any evidence to show that
he had been interested in the subject.

I could not fail to remember, too, that Zara el-Khala had last been
reported as crossing to England.

CHAPTER IV

THE FIGHT IN THE CAFE

New Scotland Yard had been advised that any reference to a scorpion,
in whatever form it occurred, should be noted and followed up, but
nothing had resulted and as a matter of fact I was not surprised in
the least. All that I had learned--and this was little enough--I had
learned more or less by accident. But I came to the conclusion that a
visit to London might be advisable.

I had caused a watch to be kept upon the man Miguel, whose
establishment seemed to be a recognized resort of shady characters.
I had no absolute proof, remember, that he knew anything of the
private affairs of the H