"Undoubtedly. Of course I did nothing of the kind, but it was
impossible to discern the stranger's features through the thick gauze,
although he passed quite close to me. He had not proceeded another
three paces, I should think, before my boy had snatched up the shafts
and darted across the bridge as though all hell were after him! Here's
the odd thing, though; I could never induce him to speak a word on the
subject afterwards! I bullied him and bribed him, but all to no
purpose. And although I must have asked more than a hundred Chinamen
in every station of society from mandarin to mendicant, 'Who or what
is _The Scorpion?_' one and all looked stupid, blandly assuring me
that they did not know what I meant."

"H'm!" said Dunbar, "it's a queer yarn, certainly. How long ago would
that be, doctor?"

"Roughly--five years."

"It sounds as though it might belong to the case. Some months back,
early in the winter, we received instructions at the Yard to look out
everywhere in the press, in buffets, theatres, but particularly in
criminal quarters, for any reference (of any kind whatever) to a
scorpion. I was so puzzled that I saw the Commissioner about it,
and he could tell me next to nothing. He said the word had come
through from Paris, but that Paris seemed to know no more about it
than we did. It was associated in some way with the sudden deaths of
several notable public men about that time; but as there was no
evidence of foul play in any of the cases, I couldn't see what it
meant at all. Then, six weeks ago, Sir Frank Narcombe, the surgeon,
fell dead in the foyer of a West-End theatre--you remember?"