medy being enacted in the room above should
prove well deserving of study.

To the tactful diplomacy of M. Gaston Max, the task of securing from
Sir Brian an invitation to step up into his chambers in order to smoke
a final cigar was no heavy one. He seated himself in a deep armchair, at
the baronet's invitation, and accepted a very fine cigar, contentedly,
sniffing at the old cognac with the appreciation of a connoisseur, ere
holding it under the syphon.

He glanced around the room, noting the character of the ornaments,
and looked up at the big bookshelf which was near to him; these rapid
inquiries dictated the following remark: "You have lived in China, Sir
Brian?"

Sir Brian surveyed him with mild surprise.

"Yes," he replied; "I was for some time at the Embassy in Pekin."

His guest nodded, blowing a ring of smoke from his lips and tracing its
hazy outline with the lighted end of his cigar.

"I, too, have been in China," he said slowly.

"What, really! I had no idea."

"Yes--I have been in China... I"...

M. Gaston grew suddenly deathly pale and his fingers began to twitch
alarmingly. He stared before him with wide-opened eyes and began to
cough and to choke as if suffocating--dying.

Sir Brian Malpas leapt to his feet with an exclamation of concern. His
visitor weakly waved him away, gasping: "It is nothing... it will...
pass off. Oh! mon dieu!"...

Sir Brian ran and opened one of the windows to admit more air to
the apartment. He turned and looked back anxiously at the man in the
armchair.

M. Gaston, twitching in a pitiful manner and still frightfully pale, was
clutching the chair-arms and glaring straight in front of him. Sir Brian
started slightly and advanced again to his visitor's side.

The burning cigar lay upon the carpet beside the chair, and Sir
Brian took it up and tossed it into the grate. As he did so he looked
searchingly into the eyes of M. Gaston. The pupils were extraordinary
dilated....

"Do you feel better?" asked Sir Brian.

"Much better," muttered M. Gaston, his face twitching nervously--"much
better."

"Are you subject to these attacks?"

"Since--I was in China--yes, unfortunately."

Sir Brian tugged at his fair mustache and seemed about to speak, then
turned aside, and, walking to the table, poured out a peg of brandy and
offered it to his guest.

"Thanks," said M. Gaston; "many thanks indeed, but already I recover.
There is only one thing that would hasten my reco