RUMOURS had spread that Mr Deng Xiaoping was at death's door. They were so insistent that a correspondent about to leave China phoned a European ambassador from the airport. "I've cancelled my trip," she said. "I think that's wise," replied the ambassador.
That was a year and a half ago. Once again the foreign community in Beijing is on a high state of alert about the great patriarch's imminent demise. "I've been living with this for four years," sighed a veteran diplomat.
"We had a scare last July, then in December. You get wound up and nothing happens. But you can't ignore it because eventually it's going to be true. And this time looks more convincing, I must say.
This time the reports began in a Hong Kong newspaper, Apple Daily, which said on Thursday that Mr Deng had suffered a major stroke and had been rushed to Military hospital No 301. This was serious enough, but when on Monday Reuters, quoting a Chinese source "close to the party", said that President Jiag Zemin and the prime minister, Mr Li Peng, had rushed home to be at his bedside, the death watch began in earnest
But why all the fuss? Deng Xiaoping, once the all-powerful leader of China, has not held any official post since 1990, except as honorary president of the China Bridge Federation. The old man doesn't even play cards any longer. He is in the advanced stages of Parkinson's disease. By all accounts he is unable to read, walk or take part in conversation.
Now 92, Mr Deng has not been seen in public since the Chinese Lunar New Year in 1994. Yet reports of the sudden deterioration in his health caused share prices to tumble yesterday in China, Taiwan and Hong Kong.
THE tremor in the markets is a sure sign that investors believe a new period of uncertainty in China lies ahead and that even semi-conscious and at death's door, Mr Deng continues to influence China's destiny.
The reason is rooted in the Chinese system where leaders build up a network of loyalties which transcend changes of party position and continue long after retirement, so that leaders who have dropped from public view continue to play an influential role behind the scenes.
This has been the case for almost a decade now with the veteran of the Great March who succeeded Mao Zedong. He has what contemporary leaders lack, the great stature of a revolutionary leader who began the process of changing China from a feudal society into an emerging economic super-power.
He last displayed his awesome capacity to influence China's direction when he circumvented the timid, conservative leadership in 1992 and visited the south simply to proclaim the virtues of accelerated reform. The country has been booming ever since.
While Mr Deng's heart beats, however feebly, he remains an institution in a society where age is revered. So when the day comes, probably very soon now, that the rumours of his death turn out not to be exaggerated, an element of instability and uncertainty will indeed enter the body politic in China.
There will be a struggle for the old man's estate, in which the assets - range from the loyalty of his faithful secretaries to the ability to focus and control the competing sectors of China's power structure.
Many China experts argue that the country has already entered the post-Deng period and that his death will be a mostly ceremonial ending to an era which has already passed. Undoubtedly his authority has been eroded during his long illness and Mr Deng himself has done everything possible to bequeath his moral capital in advance to his chosen one, President Jiang Zemin.
The big question in China is - will this be enough to secure Mr Jiang's position as the new top leader. He has the titles of president, party secretary and head of the army, all approved by Mr Deng, but he is an uncharismatic man. His lack of military background puts a question mark over the loyalty of army commanders and he may not yet have the authority to command the comrades.
The posts he holds may not symbolise power but rather the mechanisms to hold off the expected challenges.
MR JIANG is a member of the third generation of Chinese communist leaders, which includes the premier, Mr Li Peng, (who must step down this year) and the reform-minded vice premier, Mr Zhu Rongji, and which has so far prevented the centre of gravity shifting towards the more market-oriented fourth generation, now in their 30s and 40s.
There seems to be no immediate challenge to their hold on power. There is an apparent consensus in China that it was the policy of Mr Deng which lifted the country out of hunger and put it on the road to prosperity. Mr Jiang has been introducing new economic reforms at a fast pace.
There also appears to be a consensus that stability, not democracy, is a top priority as market reforms give rise to the closure of bankrupt state concerns and unemployment. There is a consensus, too, that there must be no corruption at the very top. There is consensus over Hong Kong. There is a shared feeling that the country is going the correct way about righting a great historical grievance.
Any power struggle to inherit Mr Deng's mantle, while bitter and fractious, is unlikely therefore to be bloody or destabilising. It will take place within the defined structures and will probably be resolved when the party holds its 15th Congress in the autumn. So no matter when Mr Deng dies, today or a year from now, China will not fall apart.
There will be a moment of historical uncertainty, but the share prices will quickly recover.