Mr. Moore. But
_he_ said--_no_!"

Peter looked up at the stolid rigging of the _Persian Gulf_, at the
sunlight dancing brightly on the blue waves, which foamed at their
crests like fresh, boiling milk; at the passengers sleeping or reading
in their deck chairs; and he refused to believe that this was not a
dream. But the level voice of Romola Borria purred on:

"Then you joined a caravan for India, and, for a little while, they
thought your trail was lost. But you reappeared in Mandalay, attired
as a street fakir; and you limped all the way to Rangoon. Why did you
limp, Mr. Moore?"

"A mule stamped on my foot, coming through the Merchants' Pass into
Bengal."

"It healed rapidly, no doubt, for you were very active from that time
on. You took passage to Penang, to Singapore, doubling back to Penang,
and again to Singapore, and caught a blue-funnel steamer for Batavia."

"But, Miss Borria," writhed Peter, "why, with all this knowledge,
hasn't he done away with me? You know. _He_ knows. You've had your
chance. You could have killed me in your stateroom last night.
Please----" And Peter cast the golden robe of the adventurer
temporarily from him, becoming for the moment nothing more than a
terribly earnest, terribly concerned young man.

"I gave you an inkling last night," replied Romola Borria composedly.
"Until you left Batavia _he_ believed that you had given up your
nonsense. The coolie you threw overboard in Batavia was there, not to
stab you, but to warn you away from China. Those warnings, of which
you have had many, are now things of the past. You have thrown down
the glove to him once too often. He is through toying.

"It was great fun for him, and he enjoyed it. He treats his enemies
that way--for a while. You have now entered upon the second stage of
enmity with him. Last night was a sample of what you may expect from
now on. Only the sheerest luck saved you from the coolie's bullet--and
my almost-too-tardy intervention."

Peter gave her a hard, thoughtful and a thoroughly respectful stare.

"I take it," he said, "that you are a special emissary, a sort of
minister plenipotentiary, from the Gray Dragon. As a matter of fact,
you are here simply to persuade me to correct my erring ways; to
persuade me to give you my promise for _him_ that I will put China and
Len Yang forever out of my plans."

"Express it any way you please, Mr. Moore. I have told you about all
that I am able. I kn