Stuart read through a paper, consisting of six closely written pages, then he pinned the sheets together, folded them and placed them in one of those long envelopes associated in his memory with the opening phase of "The Scorpion" mystery. Smiling grimly, he descended to his dispensary and returned with the Chinese coin attached to the cork. With this he sealed the envelope.  
He had volunteered that night for onerous service, and his offer had been accepted. Gaston Max's knowledge of Eastern languages was slight, whilst Stuart's was sound and extensive, and the Frenchman had cordially welcomed the doctor's proposal that he should accompany him to the house of Ah-Fang-Fu. Reviewing the facts gleaned from Miska during the earlier part of the evening, Stuart perceived that, apart from the additional light which they shed upon her own relations with the group, they could be of slight assistance to the immediate success of the inquiry—unless the raid failed. Therefore he had determined upon the course which now he was adopting.
 
As he completed the sealing of the envelope and laid it down upon the table, he heard a cab drawn up in front of the house, and presently Mrs. M'Gregor knocked and entered the study.
 
"Inspector Dunbar to see you, Mr. Keppel," she said—"and he has with him an awful-looking body, all cuts and bandages. A patient, no doubt."
 
Stuart stood up, wondering what this could mean.
 
"Will you please show them up, Mrs. M'Gregor," he replied.
 
A few moments later Dunbar entered, accompanied by a bearded man whose head was bandaged so as to partly cover one eye and who had an evil-looking scar running from his cheekbone, apparently—or at any rate from the edge of the bandage—to the corner of his mouth, so that the lip was drawn up in a fierce and permanent snarl.
 
At this person Stuart stared blankly, until Dunbar began to laugh.
 
"It's a wonderful make-up, isn't it?" he said. "I used to say that disguises were out of date, but M. Max has taught me I was wrong."
 
"Max!" cried Stuart.
 
"At your service," replied the apparition, "but for this evening only
I am 'Le Belafre.' Yes, pardieu! I am a real dead man!"
 
The airy indifference which he proclaimed himself to represent one whose awful body had but that day been removed from a mortuary, and one whom in his own words he had "had the misfortune to strangle," was rather ghastly and at the same time admirable. For "Le Balafre" had deliberately tried to murder him, and false sentiment should form no part of the complement of a criminal investigator.
 
"It is a daring idea," said Stuart, "and relies for its success upon the chance that 'The Scorpion' remains ignorant of the fate of his agent and continues to believe that the body found off Hanover Hole was yours."
 
"The admirable precautions of my clever colleague," replied Max, laying his hand upon Dunbar's shoulder, "in closing the mortuary and publishing particulars of the identification disk, made it perfectly safe. 'Le Balafre' has been in hiding. He emerges!"
 
Stuart had secret reasons for knowing that Max's logic was not at fault, and this brought him to the matter of the sealed paper. He took up the envelope.
 
"I have here," he said slowly, "a statement. Examine the seal."
 
He held it out, and Max and Dunbar looked at it. The latter laughed shortly.
 
"Oh, it is a real statement," continued Stuart, "the nature of which I am not at liberty to divulge. But as to-night we take risks, I propose to leave it in your charge, Inspector."
 
He handed the envelope to Dunbar, whose face was blank with astonishment.
 
"In the event of failure to-night," added Stuart, "or catastrophe, I authorise you to read this statement—and act upon it. If, however, I escape safely, I ask you to return it to me, unread."
 
"Eh bien," said Max, and fixed that eye the whole of which was visible upon Stuart. "Perhaps I understand, and certainly"—he removed his hand from Dunbar's shoulder and rested it upon that of Stuart— "but certainly, my friend, I sympathise!"
&n............