In that issue should have appeared Forbes's reply to "Y.

M." which Furneaux had suppressed as unnecessary.
There was a chauffeur at the wheel--no Chinaman, but a tightly-buttoned and black-legginged young Englishman--in fact, the real thing in chauffeurs.
"Whose car is this ?" demanded Theydon.
"It belongs to the Chinese Embassy, sir," said the man, answering civilly enough, but not unnaturally showing some surprise at the curt question.
"Are you waiting here for some official of the Embassy ?" went on Theydon.
"Not exactly, sir, some friends of His Excellency." The man glanced toward the door of the hotel.

"Here they are now," he added.
Theydon turned.

Two Chinamen, sedate, pig-tailed persons, were descending the steps.

With them was Furneaux! One of the Orientals gave Theydon a rather sharp glance, having noticed, apparently, that he was conversing with the chauffeur, but Furneaux, after a stonily indifferent stare, said to the second Chinaman, in plain English: "Do you mind dropping me at Scotland Yard ?" "With pleasure," was the composed reply.
The three entered, and the gray car made off, leaving Theydon to gaze blankly after it.