ne afflatus should never be neglected," announced Nayland
Smith didactically, "wild though its promptings may seem."

CHAPTER XX

THE NOTE ON THE DOOR

I saw little of Nayland Smith for the remainder of that day.
Presumably he was following those "promptings" to which he had
referred, though I was unable to conjecture whither they were leading
him. Then, towards dusk he arrived in a perfect whirl, figuratively
sweeping me off my feet.

"Get your coat on, Petrie!" he cried; "you forget that we have a most
urgent appointment!"

Beyond doubt I had forgotten that we had any appointment whatever that
evening, and some surprise must have shown upon my face, for--

"Really you are becoming very forgetful!" my friend continued. "You
know we can no longer trust the 'phone. I have to leave certain
instructions for Weymouth at the rendezvous!"

There was a hidden significance in his manner, and, my memory harking
back to an adventure which we had shared in the past, I suddenly
glimpsed the depths of my own stupidity.

He suspected the presence of an eavesdropper! Yes! incredible though
it might appear, we were spied upon in the New Louvre; agents of the
Si-Fan, of Dr. Fu-Manchu, were actually within the walls of the great
hotel!

We hurried out into the corridor, and descended by the lift to the
lobby. M. Samarkan, long famous as _maitre d'hotel_ of one of Cairo's
fashionable _khans_, and now principal of the New Louvre, greeted us
with true Greek courtesy. He trusted that we should be present at
some charitable function or other to be held at the hotel on the
following evening.

"If possible, M. Samarkan--if possible," said Smith. "We have many
demands upon our time." Then, abruptly, to me: "Come, Petrie, we will
walk as far as Charing Cross and take a cab from the rank there."

"The hall-porter can call you a cab," said M. Samarkan, solicitous for
the comfort of his guests.

"Thanks," snapped Smith; "we prefer to walk a little way."

Passing along the Strand, he took my arm, and speaking close to my ear--

"That place is alive with spies, Petrie," he said; "or if there are
only a few of them they are remarkably efficient!"

Not another word could I get from him, although I was eager enough to
talk; since one dearer to me than all else in the world was in the
hands of the damnable organization we knew as the Si-Fan; until,
arrived at Charing Cross, he walked out to the cab rank, and--

"Jump in!" he sna