I have met people who enjoy crossing the strait. They sit calmly on the deck stools. When the ship arrives in the port, they wait quietly for the ship to be moored, and then pack up their things and go ashore in a calm manner.I just can't do that.From the moment I got on the boat, I felt that the time was too short to settle down and do things.I move my suitcase around.If I go down to the catering department to eat, I always swallow the dates whole, for fear that the ship will suddenly arrive while I'm down there.My psychology may be the aftereffect of the short vacation during the war.At that time, people felt that it was very important to hold a spot close to the deck, and being the first to wash ashore could save a few precious seconds of wasting three or five days of vacation.

It was a peculiar July morning, and I stood by the railing, watching the approaching white cliffs of Dover.I was very surprised in my heart, why some tourists can sit quietly on the chairs without raising their eyes when they return to their motherland.Maybe they were not in the same situation as I was, no doubt many of them just crossed the Channel to Paris for a weekend, whereas I spent half the time away from England on a farm in Argentina.My business is there.Both my wife and I like the comfortable life in South America, but when the familiar coast is getting closer, there seems to be something stuck in my throat, and I have mixed feelings.

I arrived in France two days ago, have done some necessary business, and am on my way to London.I'll be there for a few months - plenty of time to visit old friends.Especially the little man with the egg-shaped head and green eyes—Hercule Poirot.I purposely wanted to surprise him.In a recent letter to him from Argentina, I did not mention my trip at all—in fact, my trip was hastily decided on some complicated business problem—I have been thinking of him with pleasure. The joy and amazement at seeing me. I know he probably won't be far from his base camp.Gone are the days of running cases across the UK.He is already famous far and wide, and it is impossible to spend all his time on a case.His ambition grew with the times.He hoped to be a detective consultant--a specialist like the Harley Street doctor.He often laughs at the "Human Hound" approach to cases in which he hunts down criminals in outlandish costumes and stops to measure every footprint he sees.

"No, my friend Hastings," he would say, "we'll leave the little tricks to Gino and his friends. Hercule Poirot's method is the only one. Ways of doing things and 'grey cells'. We can already see more from the comfort of our armchairs than anyone can look down on. We don't jump to conclusions like Japp the Celebrity." He wouldn't be like that, so there was no need to fear that Hercule Poirot would stray too far from the point and jump to conclusions. When I got to London, I left my luggage in a hotel and drove straight to the old address.Memories are rolling in like turbulent waves!I wanted very much to say hello to the landlady, but first I rushed up the steps and knocked heavily on Poirot's door.

"Come in!" A familiar voice called from inside. I strode into it.Poirot was standing facing me, and when he saw me the small suitcase he was carrying dropped to the ground with a thud. "My friend, Hastings!" he cried. "my friend!" He rushed forward.Hugged me tightly.We talked illogically without saying a word.The involuntary shouts, the eager questions, the incomplete answers, the words my wife asked me to pass on, and the reason for my trip all came together haphazardly. "Is my old apartment occupied now?" We finally calmed down and I asked, "I really want to live with you again."

There was an expression of surprise, surprise on Poirot's face. "My God! What a coincidence! Look all around you, my friend!" I'm only now noticing my surroundings.Against the wall is a large suitcase in the shape of a prehistoric ark.There are several suitcases neatly lined up next to it, arranged in order from largest to smallest.My inference is unmistakable. "Are you leaving here?" "good." "Where to go?" "South America." "what?" "Yes, that's funny, isn't it? I'm going to Rio. I tell myself every day: I'm going to keep everything secret in my letter--but, oh! that good Hastings when he sees me consternation!"

"When are you going?" Poirot looked at his watch. "Within an hour." "I remember, didn't you keep saying that nothing would make you want to take a long trip?" Poirot closed his study and shivered. "Don't mention that. My doctor assures me that people don't die like that—not to mention just this one time; you know, I'm not—not coming back." He pushed me into a chair. "Sit down and I'll tell you what's going on. Do you know who's the richest man in the world? Richer than Rockefeller? That's Abel Ryland."

"The soap king of America?" "Yes. I have been contacted by one of his secretaries. There is a serious matter, what you might call a fraud, involving a large company in Rio. He wants me to go there to investigate, but I refuse. I tell He, if the facts are laid out in front of me, I can analyze them as an expert. However, he claims that he is not capable. I can only get the facts when I go there. If it is normal, this transaction will come to an end. That's the end. It would be the height of disrespect to ask Hercule Poirot to do what he's told. But what he's going to pay me is astonishing. For the first time in my life, I'm completely bewitched by money. It's quite a sum. In addition to this, there is another temptation - you, my friend. I have been a very lonely old man for a year and a half. I thought, why don't I take this job ?I'm tired of this endless way of solving stupid problems. I'm famous enough. Let me take the money and settle down near my old friends."

Poirot's confession moved me very much. "So, I took the job," he continued. "In an hour or so, I'd have to catch the steamboat train. One of the jokes of life, isn't it? But, Hastings, I must admit to you, if it wasn't for the money they gave me, I probably would have I won’t make this decision, because, recently, I’m doing a survey that I’m very interested in. Tell me, usually, what does the word ‘Four Devils’ mean?” "I think this term first appeared at the Versailles Conference. Later, there were the so-called four famous figures in the film industry. Now, this term has been abused by younger generations."

"It's like this," said Poirot thoughtfully. "I came across the term, and, you know, none of your explanations really fit the situation. It seemed to refer to a national crime syndicate, or something like that, but—" "Just what?" I asked when he hesitated. "Only, I feel that this is a large organization. However, this is only my small opinion. Ah! I must hurry to pack, the time is approaching." "Don't go." I discouraged him. "Change your itinerary, we can take the same boat then." Poirot stood up and looked at me reproachfully.

"Ah! It's because you don't know the circumstances! You know, I've made my promise—Hercule Poirot's promise. Unless there's anything life-threatening now, I must go." "It seems impossible for such a thing to happen." I murmured sullenly. "Unless in a pinch, 'The door opens and an unexpected visitor arrives.'" I smiled faintly and played an old proverb, and then, after a moment of silence, a voice came from the inner room, and we both jumped. "What's that sound!" I yelled. "My promise!" replied Poirot. "It sounds as though the 'uninvited guest' you speak of is already in my bedroom," "However, how could someone be there? There is no other way to get there except through this door!" "You have a good memory, Hastings. Now let's deduce it." "Window! That's burglary? He'd have to know how to do it—I don't think that's possible." On the other side of the door, a fumbling sound of the doorknob caught my attention. I stood up and strode towards the door. The door opened slowly.A man is standing by the door.He was covered in dust and mud from head to toe, and his face was thin and haggard.He stared at us for a while, then staggered down.Poirot rushed to him, looked up at me and said. "Brandy—quickly." I hastily poured some brandy and handed it to him.Poirot gave him a drink.Then the two of us worked together to lift him onto the couch.After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and looked around blankly. "What do you want, monsieur?" said Poirot. The man opened his lips and spoke in a strange, mechanical voice. "Mr. Hercule Poirot. Mr. Hercule Poirot of 14 Faraway Street." "Oh, I am." The man seemed not to understand what he was saying, but repeated in the same tone: "Mr. Hercule Poirot of 14 Faraway Street." Poirot tried to ask him some questions.Sometimes the man doesn't answer at all and sometimes repeats the sentence.Poirot gestured to me to call. "I want Dr. Ridgway to come." Fortunately the doctor is at home.His house is just around the corner.Not long after, he rushed over in a panic. "What's going on, eh?" After a brief explanation from Poirot, the doctor began to examine the strange visitor who seemed not at all aware of his own and our existence. "Hmm!" said Dr. Ridgeway, finishing his examination, "a very strange case." "Meningitis?" I guessed. The doctor immediately hummed disapprovingly. "Meningitis! There's no such thing as meningitis at all. It's a term invented by novelists. No, the man was driven here by some kind of fright -- and he didn't understand the words at all. Meaning. Just gramophone-like repetition." "Aphasia?" I said eagerly. The doctor's guess at me this time is not as loud as last time.He didn't answer, just handed the man a piece of paper and a pen. "We'll see what he does." He said what he meant. At first, the man didn't do anything, and then he suddenly started writing frantically.Then, he stopped unexpectedly, and the paper and pen fell to the ground.The doctor checked it and shook his head. "Nothing. Just scribbled a bunch of Arabic numerals 4, one bigger than the other. I think he meant to write 14 Faraway Street. It's a very interesting case - very interesting. Would you please let him Stay here—until the afternoon? I have to go to the hospital now, but I'll be back in the afternoon to make arrangements for this man, who is an interesting case. It would be a pity to lose track of him." I explained to him that Poirot had to get out of here, and that I also planned to accompany Poirot to Southampton. "Then, leave this man here. He's too tired to act. He's probably going to sleep for eight hours non-stop. I'm going to tell your good-natured lady, who is so playful, to ask her Keep an eye on him." Dr. Ridgway left in his usual haste.Poirot, keeping an eye on the clock, hastily packed the things into the box. "Time flies. Hey! Hastings, now you can't say I have nothing left for you to do! A most troublesome problem. A man from nowhere. Who is he?" What does he do? Ah! What a coincidence! I wish I'd traded two years of my life for the fact that this ship is leaving tomorrow, not today. It's a strange thing—interesting. But there must be time— — time. It may be days — it may be months — before he is able to tell us what he wants to tell us.” "I will do my best, Poirot," I assured him. "I try to be a competent replacement." "Uh-ok." His answer made me feel as if there was a cloud of doubt.I pick up the paper. "If I were to write a novel," I said lightly, "I should intersperse the story with your last weird word and call it 'The Strange Tales of the Four Great Demons.'" I tapped my pencil as I spoke. Arabic characters. In an instant, I jumped up. This person who I thought was useless suddenly woke up from his trance. He sat up and said in a clear voice: "Li Changyan." He looked as if he had just woken up from a sleep.Poirot made a gesture to silence me, and the man continued.He spoke in a clear, high-pitched voice, and his intonation suggested to me that he was reciting some written proclamation or speech. "Li Changyan can be said to be the mind of the Four Great Demons. He has the power to control and command. Therefore, I call him No. 1. No. 2 is rarely mentioned by name. He has two straight lines running through the middle. The S - the symbol of a dollar - is represented by two stripes and a star. Therefore, it can be guessed that he is an American, and he represents wealth. Number three is undoubtedly a woman, her nationality is France. Maybe she is a stunner in Huajieliuxiang, but this information is not completely reliable. Number four—” His voice faltered and Poirot leaned forward. "Yes," he prompted eagerly, "number four?" His eyes were fixed firmly on the man's face.The man's face was contorted with fear. "Slayer," the man gasped.After speaking, he convulsed for a while, and passed out again. "My God!" whispered Poirot. "Then I guessed right. I was right." "Do you think--?" He cut me off. "Carry him to the bed in my room. If I want to catch the train, I must seize every minute. I don't want to catch the train! I may miss the train consciously, but I have promised people .Come on, Hastings." We left the mysterious visitor in the care of Mrs. Pearson, and the two left immediately, just in time for the train.On the train, Poirot was silent, but Shir was loud and talkative. He sometimes sat quietly and stared out the window like a sleepwalker. Obviously, he didn't listen to what I said.Then, suddenly, he came alive again, admonishing and ordering me, emphasizing the importance of constant radio contact. After passing Fojing, we were silent for a moment.The train did not stop until Southampton, but here it was stopped by a signal light. "Ah! Holy thunder!" cried Poirot suddenly. "I've been a fool, and now I've figured it out. There's no doubt that the saints of heaven stopped the car. Jump, Hastings!" In an instant, he had opened the door of the luggage compartment and jumped out. "Throw the suitcase and you jump out yourself." I listen to him.As I stood beside him, the train started moving again. "Well, Poirot," I said, somewhat annoyed, "now, perhaps, you are going to tell me what's going on?" "The reason, my friend, is that I see the light." "Your words," I said, "have inspired me a lot." "It should be so," said Poirot, "but I'm afraid—I'm afraid it's not. If you can carry these two suitcases, I think I can take care of the others."