my brain. I strove to reassure myself, but the sense of
impending evil and of mystery became heavier. At last I could combat
my strange fears no longer. I turned and began to run towards the
south side of the common--towards my rooms--and after Eltham.

I had hoped to head him off, but came upon no sign of him. An
all-night tramcar passed at the moment that I reached the high-road,
and as I ran around behind it I saw that my windows were lighted and
that there was a light in the hall.

My key was yet in the lock when my housekeeper opened the door.

"There's a gentleman just come, doctor," she began.

I thrust past her and raced up the stairs to my study.

Standing by the writing-table was a tall thin man, his gaunt face
brown as a coffee-berry and his steely grey eyes fixed upon me. My
heart gave a great leap--and seemed to stand still.

It was Nayland Smith!

"Smith!" I cried. "Smith, old man, by God, I'm glad to see you!"

He wrung my hand hard, looking at me with his searching eyes; but
there was little enough of gladness in his face. He was altogether
greyer than when last I had seen him--greyer and sterner.

"Where is Eltham?" I asked.

Smith started back as though I had struck him.

"Eltham!" he whispered--"_Eltham_! is Eltham here?"

"I left him ten minutes ago on the common."

Smith dashed his right fist into the palm of his left hand, and his
eyes gleamed almost wildly.

"My God, Petrie!" he said, "am I fated _always_ to come too late?"

My dreadful fears in that instant were confirmed. I seemed to feel my
legs totter beneath me.

"Smith, you don't mean--"

"I do, Petrie!" His voice sounded very far away. "Fu-Manchu is here;
and Eltham, God help him ... is his first victim!"

CHAPTER II

ELTHAM VANISHES

Smith went racing down the stairs like a man possessed. Heavy with
such a foreboding of calamity as I had not known for two years, I
followed him--along the hall and out into the road. The very peace and
beauty of the night in some way increased my mental agitation. The sky
was lighted almost tropically with such a blaze of stars as I could
not recall to have seen since, my futile search concluded, I had left
Egypt. The glory of the moonlight yellowed the lamps speckled across
the expanse of the common. The night was as still as night can ever be
in London. The dimming pulse of a cab or car alone disturbed the
quietude.

With a quick glance to right and left, Smith ran acros