here.
What do you want with us?"

"That comes," Immelan replied. "Soon you shall all know why I have come!
Let me speak to my friend Shan for a moment. I carry your poison in my
veins, but there is a chance--just a chance," he added slowly, with a
horrible smile upon his lips, "that you may go first, after all."

Nigel made a stealthy but rapid movement forward, drawing Naida gently
out of the way. Immelan was too quick, however. He swung around, showing
the revolver which he had been concealing behind him, and moved to one
side until his back was against one of the pillars. By this time, most
of the other occupants of the ballroom had either rushed screaming away
altogether, or were hiding, peering out in fascinated horror from the
different recesses. The chief maitre d'hotel bravely held his ground and
came to within a few paces of Immelan.

"We can't have any brawling here," he said. "Put that revolver away."

Immelan took no notice of the intervener, except that for a single
moment the muzzle yawned in the latter's face. The maitre d'hotel was a
brave man, but he had a wife and family, and after all, it was not his
affair. There were other men there to look after the ladies. He hurried
off to call for the police. Almost as he went, Prince Shan stepped into
the foreground. His voice was calm and expressionless. His eyes, in
which there shone no shadow of fear, were steadily fixed upon Immelan.
He spoke without flurry.

"So you carry your own weapons to-night, Immelan," he said. "That at
least is more like a man. You seem to have a grievance against every
one. Start with me. What is it?"

There were some of them who wondered why, at this juncture when he so
clearly dominated his assailant, Prince Shan, whose courage was superb
and whose _sang froid_ absolutely unshaken did not throw himself upon
this intruder and take his chance of bringing the matter to an end at
the moment when the man's nerve was undoubtedly shaken. Then they looked
towards the entrance, and they understood. Creeping towards the little
gathering came Li Wen and another of the Prince's suite, a younger and
even more active man. The two came on tiptoe, crouching and moving
warily, with the gleam of the tiger in their anxious eyes. Maggie caught
a warning glance from Nigel and looked away.

"You are my murderer!" Immelan cried hoarsely. "It is through you I
suffer these pains! I am dying of your accursed poison!"

"If that were true," Prince