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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:38 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:38 -0700 |
| commit | c9d0e57f12132659bf014f881432f87ceafc114f (patch) | |
| tree | e9cc8db48fb4227efe25062c223059465040ebb3 /1183-h | |
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diff --git a/1183-h/1183-h.htm b/1183-h/1183-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08658eb --- /dev/null +++ b/1183-h/1183-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11211 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Return of Dr. Fu-manchu, by Sax Rohmer + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1183 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE RETURN OF DR. FU-MANCHU + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Sax Rohmer + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> A MIDNIGHT + SUMMONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> ELTHAM + VANISHES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> THE + WIRE JACKET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> THE + CRY OF A NIGHTHAWK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> THE + NET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> UNDER + THE ELMS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> ENTER + MR. ABEL SLATTIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> DR. + FU-MANCHU STRIKES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> THE + CLIMBER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THE + CLIMBER RETURNS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE + WHITE PEACOCK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> DARK + EYES LOOKED INTO MINE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. + </a> THE SACRED ORDER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV. </a> THE COUGHING HORROR <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> BEWITCHMENT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> THE QUESTING HANDS + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> ONE + DAY IN RANGOON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE + SILVER BUDDHA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> DR. + FU-MANCHU’S LABORATORY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. + </a> THE CROSS BAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> + CHAPTER XXI. </a> CRAGMIRE TOWER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> THE MULATTO <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> A CRY ON THE + MOOR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> STORY + OF THE GABLES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> THE + BELLS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> THE + FIERY HAND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> THE + NIGHT OF THE RAID <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. + </a> THE SAMURAI’S SWORD <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> THE SIX GATES <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> THE CALL OF THE + EAST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> "MY + SHADOW LIES UPON YOU” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. + </a> THE TRAGEDY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER + XXXIII. </a> THE MUMMY <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS + </h2> + <p> + “When did you last hear from Nayland Smith?” asked my visitor. + </p> + <p> + I paused, my hand on the syphon, reflecting for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Two months ago,” I said; “he’s a poor correspondent and rather soured, I + fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “What—a woman or something?” + </p> + <p> + “Some affair of that sort. He’s such a reticent beggar, I really know very + little about it.” + </p> + <p> + I placed a whisky and soda before the Rev. J. D. Eltham, also sliding the + tobacco jar nearer to his hand. The refined and sensitive face of the + clergy-man offered no indication of the truculent character of the man. + His scanty fair hair, already gray over the temples, was silken and + soft-looking; in appearance he was indeed a typical English churchman; but + in China he had been known as “the fighting missionary,” and had fully + deserved the title. In fact, this peaceful-looking gentleman had directly + brought about the Boxer Risings! + </p> + <p> + “You know,” he said, in his clerical voice, but meanwhile stuffing tobacco + into an old pipe with fierce energy, “I have often wondered, Petrie—I + have never left off wondering—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “That accursed Chinaman! Since the cellar place beneath the site of the + burnt-out cottage in Dulwich Village—I have wondered more than + ever.” + </p> + <p> + He lighted his pipe and walked to the hearth to throw the match in the + grate. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he continued, peering across at me in his oddly nervous way, + “one never knows, does one? If I thought that Dr. Fu-Manchu lived; if I + seriously suspected that that stupendous intellect, that wonderful genius, + Petrie, er—” he hesitated characteristically—“survived, I + should feel it my duty—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I said, leaning my elbows on the table and smiling slightly. + </p> + <p> + “If that Satanic genius were not indeed destroyed, then the peace of the + world, may be threatened anew at any moment!” + </p> + <p> + He was becoming excited, shooting out his jaw in the truculent manner I + knew, and snapping his fingers to emphasize his words; a man composed of + the oddest complexities that ever dwelt beneath a clerical frock. + </p> + <p> + “He may have got back to China, Doctor!” he cried, and his eyes had the + fighting glint in them. “Could you rest in peace if you thought that he + lived? Should you not fear for your life every time that a night-call took + you out alone? Why, man alive, it is only two years since he was here + among us, since we were searching every shadow for those awful green eyes! + What became of his band of assassins—his stranglers, his dacoits, + his damnable poisons and insects and what-not—the army of creatures—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, taking a drink. + </p> + <p> + “You—” he hesitated diffidently—“searched in Egypt with + Nayland Smith, did you not?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Contradict me if I am wrong,” he continued; “but my impression is that + you were searching for the girl—the girl—Karamaneh, I think + she was called?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied shortly; “but we could find no trace—no trace.” + </p> + <p> + “You—er—were interested?” + </p> + <p> + “More than I knew,” I replied, “until I realized that I had—lost + her.” + </p> + <p> + “I never met Karamaneh, but from your account, and from others, she was + quite unusually—” + </p> + <p> + “She was very beautiful,” I said, and stood up, for I was anxious to + terminate that phase of the conversation. + </p> + <p> + Eltham regarded me sympathetically; he knew something of my search with + Nayland Smith for the dark-eyed, Eastern girl who had brought romance into + my drab life; he knew that I treasured my memories of her as I loathed and + abhorred those of the fiendish, brilliant Chinese doctor who had been her + master. + </p> + <p> + Eltham began to pace up and down the rug, his pipe bubbling furiously; and + something in the way he carried his head reminded me momentarily of + Nayland Smith. Certainly, between this pink-faced clergyman, with his + deceptively mild appearance, and the gaunt, bronzed, and steely-eyed + Burmese commissioner, there was externally little in common; but it was + some little nervous trick in his carriage that conjured up through the + smoky haze one distant summer evening when Smith had paced that very room + as Eltham paced it now, when before my startled eyes he had rung up the + curtain upon the savage drama in which, though I little suspected it then, + Fate had cast me for a leading role. + </p> + <p> + I wondered if Eltham’s thoughts ran parallel with mine. My own were + centered upon the unforgettable figure of the murderous Chinaman. These + words, exactly as Smith had used them, seemed once again to sound in my + ears: “Imagine a person tall, lean, and feline, high shouldered, with a + brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan, a close-shaven skull, and + long magnetic eyes of the true cat green. Invest him with all the cruel + cunning of an entire Eastern race accumulated in one giant intellect, with + all the resources of science, past and present, and you have a mental + picture of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the ‘Yellow Peril’ incarnate in one man.” + </p> + <p> + This visit of Eltham’s no doubt was responsible for my mood; for this + singular clergyman had played his part in the drama of two years ago. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see Smith again,” he said suddenly; “it seems a pity + that a man like that should be buried in Burma. Burma makes a mess of the + best of men, Doctor. You said he was not married?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied shortly, “and is never likely to be, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you hinted at something of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + “I know very little of it. Nayland Smith is not the kind of man to talk + much.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so—quite so! And, you know, Doctor, neither am I; but”—he + was growing painfully embarrassed—“it may be your due—I—er—I + have a correspondent, in the interior of China—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I said, watching him in sudden eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I would not desire to raise—vain hopes—nor to occasion, + shall I say, empty fears; but—er... no, Doctor!” He flushed like a + girl—“It was wrong of me to open this conversation. Perhaps, when I + know more—will you forget my words, for the time?” + </p> + <p> + The telephone bell rang. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo!” cried Eltham—“hard luck, Doctor!”—but I could see + that he welcomed the interruption. “Why!” he added, “it is one o’clock!” + </p> + <p> + I went to the telephone. + </p> + <p> + “Is that Dr. Petrie?” inquired a woman’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; who is speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hewett has been taken more seriously ill. Could you come at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I replied, for Mrs. Hewett was not only a profitable patient + but an estimable lady—“I shall be with you in a quarter of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + I hung up the receiver. + </p> + <p> + “Something urgent?” asked Eltham, emptying his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Sounds like it. You had better turn in.” + </p> + <p> + “I should much prefer to walk over with you, if it would not be intruding. + Our conversation has ill prepared me for sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Right!” I said; for I welcomed his company; and three minutes later we + were striding across the deserted common. + </p> + <p> + A sort of mist floated amongst the trees, seeming in the moonlight like a + veil draped from trunk to trunk, as in silence we passed the Mound pond, + and struck out for the north side of the common. + </p> + <p> + I suppose the presence of Eltham and the irritating recollection of his + half-confidence were the responsible factors, but my mind persistently + dwelt upon the subject of Fu-Manchu and the atrocities which he had + committed during his sojourn in England. So actively was my imagination at + work that I felt again the menace which so long had hung over me; I felt + as though that murderous yellow cloud still cast its shadow upon England. + And I found myself longing for the company of Nayland Smith. I cannot + state what was the nature of Eltham’s reflections, but I can guess; for he + was as silent as I. + </p> + <p> + It was with a conscious effort that I shook myself out of this morbidly + reflective mood, on finding that we had crossed the common and were come + to the abode of my patient. + </p> + <p> + “I shall take a little walk,” announced Eltham; “for I gather that you + don’t expect to be detained long? I shall never be out of sight of the + door, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I replied, and ran up the steps. + </p> + <p> + There were no lights to be seen in any of the windows, which circumstance + rather surprised me, as my patient occupied, or had occupied when last I + had visited her, a first-floor bedroom in the front of the house. My + knocking and ringing produced no response for three or four minutes; then, + as I persisted, a scantily clothed and half awake maid servant unbarred + the door and stared at me stupidly in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hewett requires me?” I asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + The girl stared more stupidly than ever. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” she said, “she don’t, sir; she’s fast asleep!” + </p> + <p> + “But some one ‘phoned me!” I insisted, rather irritably, I fear. + </p> + <p> + “Not from here, sir,” declared the now wide-eyed girl. “We haven’t got a + telephone, sir.” + </p> + <p> + For a few moments I stood there, staring as foolishly as she; then + abruptly I turned and descended the steps. At the gate I stood looking up + and down the road. The houses were all in darkness. What could be the + meaning of the mysterious summons? I had made no mistake respecting the + name of my patient; it had been twice repeated over the telephone; yet + that the call had not emanated from Mrs. Hewett’s house was now palpably + evident. Days had been when I should have regarded the episode as + preluding some outrage, but to-night I felt more disposed to ascribe it to + a silly practical joke. + </p> + <p> + Eltham walked up briskly. + </p> + <p> + “You’re in demand to-night, Doctor,” he said. “A young person called for + you almost directly you had left your house, and, learning where you were + gone, followed you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” I said, a trifle incredulously. “There are plenty of other + doctors if the case is an urgent one.” + </p> + <p> + “She may have thought it would save time as you were actually up and + dressed,” explained Eltham; “and the house is quite near to here, I + understand.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him a little blankly. Was this another effort of the unknown + jester? + </p> + <p> + “I have been fooled once,” I said. “That ‘phone call was a hoax—” + </p> + <p> + “But I feel certain,” declared Eltham, earnestly, “that this is genuine! + The poor girl was dreadfully agitated; her master has broken his leg and + is lying helpless: number 280, Rectory Grove.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the girl?” I asked, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “She ran back directly she had given me her message.” + </p> + <p> + “Was she a servant?” + </p> + <p> + “I should imagine so: French, I think. But she was so wrapped up I had + little more than a glimpse of her. I am sorry to hear that some one has + played a silly joke on you, but believe me—” he was very earnest—“this + is no jest. The poor girl could scarcely speak for sobs. She mistook me + for you, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said I grimly, “well, I suppose I must go. Broken leg, you said?—and + my surgical bag, splints and so forth, are at home!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Petrie!” cried Eltham, in his enthusiastic way—“you no + doubt can do something to alleviate the poor man’s suffering immediately. + I will run back to your rooms for the bag and rejoin you at 280, Rectory + Grove.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s awfully good of you, Eltham—” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “The call of suffering humanity, Petrie, is one which I may no more refuse + to hear than you.” + </p> + <p> + I made no further protest after that, for his point of view was evident + and his determination adamant, but told him where he would find the bag + and once more set out across the moonbright common, he pursuing a westerly + direction and I going east. + </p> + <p> + Some three hundred yards I had gone, I suppose, and my brain had been very + active the while, when something occurred to me which placed a new + complexion upon this second summons. I thought of the falsity of the + first, of the improbability of even the most hardened practical joker + practising his wiles at one o’clock in the morning. I thought of our + recent conversation; above all I thought of the girl who had delivered the + message to Eltham, the girl whom he had described as a French maid—whose + personal charm had so completely enlisted his sympathies. Now, to this + train of thought came a new one, and, adding it, my suspicion became + almost a certainty. + </p> + <p> + I remembered (as, knowing the district, I should have remembered before) + that there was no number 280 in Rectory Grove. + </p> + <p> + Pulling up sharply I stood looking about me. Not a living soul was in + sight; not even a policeman. Where the lamps marked the main paths across + the common nothing moved; in the shadows about me nothing stirred. But + something stirred within me—a warning voice which for long had lain + dormant. + </p> + <p> + What was afoot? + </p> + <p> + A breeze caressed the leaves overhead, breaking the silence with + mysterious whisperings. Some portentous truth was seeking for admittance + to my brain. I strove to reassure myself, but the sense of impending evil + and of mystery became heavier. At last I could combat my strange fears no + longer. I turned and began to run toward the south side of the common—toward + my rooms—and after Eltham. + </p> + <p> + I had hoped to head him off, but came upon no sign of him. An all-night + tramcar passed at the moment that I reached the high road, and as I ran + around behind it I saw that my windows were lighted and that there was a + light in the hall. + </p> + <p> + My key was yet in the lock when my housekeeper opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a gentleman just come, Doctor,” she began— + </p> + <p> + I thrust past her and raced up the stairs into my study. + </p> + <p> + Standing by the writing-table was a tall, thin man, his gaunt face brown + as a coffee-berry and his steely gray eyes fixed upon me. My heart gave a + great leap—and seemed to stand still. + </p> + <p> + It was Nayland Smith! + </p> + <p> + “Smith,” I cried. “Smith, old man, by God, I’m glad to see you!” + </p> + <p> + He wrung my hand hard, looking at me with his searching eyes; but there + was little enough of gladness in his face. He was altogether grayer than + when last I had seen him—grayer and sterner. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Eltham?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + Smith started back as though I had struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Eltham!” he whispered—“Eltham! is Eltham here?” + </p> + <p> + “I left him ten minutes ago on the common—” + </p> + <p> + Smith dashed his right fist into the palm of his left hand and his eyes + gleamed almost wildly. + </p> + <p> + “My God, Petrie!” he said, “am I fated always to come too late?” + </p> + <p> + My dreadful fears in that instant were confirmed. I seemed to feel my legs + totter beneath me. + </p> + <p> + “Smith, you don’t mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Petrie!” His voice sounded very far away. “Fu-Manchu is here; and + Eltham, God help him... is his first victim!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. ELTHAM VANISHES + </h2> + <p> + Smith went racing down the stairs like a man possessed. Heavy with such a + foreboding of calamity as I had not known for two years, I followed him—along + the hall and out into the road. The very peace and beauty of the night in + some way increased my mental agitation. The sky was lighted almost + tropically with such a blaze of stars as I could not recall to have seen + since, my futile search concluded, I had left Egypt. The glory of the + moonlight yellowed the lamps speckled across the expanse of the common. + The night was as still as night can ever be in London. The dimming pulse + of a cab or car alone disturbed the stillness. + </p> + <p> + With a quick glance to right and left, Smith ran across on to the common, + and, leaving the door wide open behind me, I followed. The path which + Eltham had pursued terminated almost opposite to my house. One’s gaze + might follow it, white and empty, for several hundred yards past the pond, + and further, until it became overshadowed and was lost amid a clump of + trees. + </p> + <p> + I came up with Smith, and side by side we ran on, whilst pantingly, I told + my tale. + </p> + <p> + “It was a trick to get you away from him!” cried Smith. “They meant no + doubt to make some attempt at your house, but as he came out with you, an + alternative plan—” + </p> + <p> + Abreast of the pond, my companion slowed down, and finally stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you last see Eltham?” he asked rapidly. + </p> + <p> + I took his arm, turning him slightly to the right, and pointed across the + moonbathed common. + </p> + <p> + “You see that clump of bushes on the other side of the road?” I said. + “There’s a path to the left of it. I took that path and he took this. We + parted at the point where they meet—” + </p> + <p> + Smith walked right down to the edge of the water and peered about over the + surface. + </p> + <p> + What he hoped to find there I could not imagine. Whatever it had been he + was disappointed, and he turned to me again, frowning perplexedly, and + tugging at the lobe of his left ear, an old trick which reminded me of + gruesome things we had lived through in the past. + </p> + <p> + “Come on,” he jerked. “It may be amongst the trees.” + </p> + <p> + From the tone of his voice I knew that he was tensed up nervously, and his + mood but added to the apprehension of my own. + </p> + <p> + “What may be amongst the trees, Smith?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + He walked on. + </p> + <p> + “God knows, Petrie; but I fear—” + </p> + <p> + Behind us, along the highroad, a tramcar went rocking by, doubtless + bearing a few belated workers homeward. The stark incongruity of the thing + was appalling. How little those weary toilers, hemmed about with the + commonplace, suspected that almost within sight from the car windows, in a + place of prosy benches, iron railings, and unromantic, flickering lamps, + two fellow men moved upon the border of a horror-land! + </p> + <p> + Beneath the trees a shadow carpet lay, its edges tropically sharp; and + fully ten yards from the first of the group, we two, hatless both, and + sharing a common dread, paused for a moment and listened. + </p> + <p> + The car had stopped at the further extremity of the common, and now with a + moan that grew to a shriek was rolling on its way again. We stood and + listened until silence reclaimed the night. Not a footstep could be heard. + Then slowly we walked on. At the edge of the little coppice we stopped + again abruptly. + </p> + <p> + Smith turned and thrust his pistol into my hand. A white ray of light + pierced the shadows; my companion carried an electric torch. But no trace + of Eltham was discoverable. + </p> + <p> + There had been a heavy shower of rain during the evening just before + sunset, and although the open paths were dry again, under the trees the + ground was still moist. Ten yards within the coppice we came upon tracks—the + tracks of one running, as the deep imprints of the toes indicated. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly the tracks terminated; others, softer, joined them, two sets + converging from left and right. There was a confused patch, trailing off + to the west; then this became indistinct, and was finally lost upon the + hard ground outside the group. + </p> + <p> + For perhaps a minute, or more, we ran about from tree to tree, and from + bush to bush, searching like hounds for a scent, and fearful of what we + might find. We found nothing; and fully in the moonlight we stood facing + one another. The night was profoundly still. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stepped back into the shadows, and began slowly to turn his + head from left to right, taking in the entire visible expanse of the + common. Toward a point where the road bisected it he stared intently. + Then, with a bound, he set off. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Petrie!” he cried. “There they are!” + </p> + <p> + Vaulting a railing he went away over a field like a madman. Recovering + from the shock of surprise, I followed him, but he was well ahead of me, + and making for some vaguely seen object moving against the lights of the + roadway. + </p> + <p> + Another railing was vaulted, and the corner of a second, triangular grass + patch crossed at a hot sprint. We were twenty yards from the road when the + sound of a starting motor broke the silence. We gained the graveled + footpath only to see the taillight of the car dwindling to the north! + </p> + <p> + Smith leaned dizzily against a tree. + </p> + <p> + “Eltham is in that car!” he gasped. “Just God! are we to stand here and + see him taken away to—” + </p> + <p> + He beat his fist upon the tree, in a sort of tragic despair. The nearest + cab-rank was no great distance away, but, excluding the possibility of no + cab being there, it might, for all practical purposes, as well have been a + mile off. + </p> + <p> + The beat of the retreating motor was scarcely audible; the lights might + but just be distinguished. Then, coming in an opposite direction, appeared + the headlamp of another car, of a car that raced nearer and nearer to us, + so that, within a few seconds of its first appearance, we found ourselves + bathed in the beam of its headlights. + </p> + <p> + Smith bounded out into the road, and stood, a weird silhouette, with + upraised arms, fully in its course! + </p> + <p> + The brakes were applied hurriedly. It was a big limousine, and its driver + swerved perilously in avoiding Smith and nearly ran into me. But, the + breathless moment past, the car was pulled up, head on to the railings; + and a man in evening clothes was demanding excitedly what had happened. + Smith, a hatless, disheveled figure, stepped up to the door. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Nayland Smith,” he said rapidly—“Burmese Commissioner.” + He snatched a letter from his pocket and thrust it into the hands of the + bewildered man. “Read that. It is signed by another Commissioner—the + Commissioner of Police.” + </p> + <p> + With amazement written all over him, the other obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” continued my friend, tersely—“it is carte blanche. I wish + to commandeer your car, sir, on a matter of life and death!”. + </p> + <p> + The other returned the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to offer it!” he said, descending. “My man will take your + orders. I can finish my journey by cab. I am—” + </p> + <p> + But Smith did not wait to learn whom he might be. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” he cried to the stupefied chauffeur—“You passed a car a + minute ago—yonder. Can you overtake it?” + </p> + <p> + “I can try, sir, if I don’t lose her track.” + </p> + <p> + Smith leaped in, pulling me after him. + </p> + <p> + “Do it!” he snapped. “There are no speed limits for me. Thanks! Goodnight, + sir!” + </p> + <p> + We were off! The car swung around and the chase commenced. + </p> + <p> + One last glimpse I had of the man we had dispossessed, standing alone by + the roadside, and at ever increasing speed, we leaped away in the track of + Eltham’s captors. + </p> + <p> + Smith was too highly excited for ordinary conversation, but he threw out + short, staccato remarks. + </p> + <p> + “I have followed Fu-Manchu from Hongkong,” he jerked. “Lost him at Suez. + He got here a boat ahead of me. Eltham has been corresponding with some + mandarin up-country. Knew that. Came straight to you. Only got in this + evening. He—Fu-Manchu—has been sent here to get Eltham. My + God! and he has him! He will question him! The interior of China—a + seething pot, Petrie! They had to stop the leakage of information. He is + here for that.” + </p> + <p> + The car pulled up with a jerk that pitched me out of my seat, and the + chauffeur leaped to the road and ran ahead. Smith was out in a trice, as + the man, who had run up to a constable, came racing back. + </p> + <p> + “Jump in, sir—jump in!” he cried, his eyes bright with the lust of + the chase; “they are making for Battersea!” + </p> + <p> + And we were off again. + </p> + <p> + Through the empty streets we roared on. A place of gasometers and desolate + waste lots slipped behind and we were in a narrow way where gates of yards + and a few lowly houses faced upon a prospect of high blank wall. + </p> + <p> + “Thames on our right,” said Smith, peering ahead. “His rathole is by the + river as usual. Hi!”—he grabbed up the speaking-tube—“Stop! + Stop!” + </p> + <p> + The limousine swung in to the narrow sidewalk, and pulled up close by a + yard gate. I, too, had seen our quarry—a long, low bodied car, + showing no inside lights. It had turned the next corner, where a street + lamp shone greenly, not a hundred yards ahead. + </p> + <p> + Smith leaped out, and I followed him. + </p> + <p> + “That must be a cul de sac,” he said, and turned to the eager-eyed + chauffeur. “Run back to that last turning,” he ordered, “and wait there, + out of sight. Bring the car up when you hear a police-whistle.” + </p> + <p> + The man looked disappointed, but did not question the order. As he began + to back away, Smith grasped me by the arm and drew me forward. + </p> + <p> + “We must get to that corner,” he said, “and see where the car stands, + without showing ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE WIRE JACKET + </h2> + <p> + I suppose we were not more than a dozen paces from the lamp when we heard + the thudding of the motor. The car was backing out! + </p> + <p> + It was a desperate moment, for it seemed that we could not fail to be + discovered. Nayland Smith began to look about him, feverishly, for a + hiding-place, a quest in which I seconded with equal anxiety. And Fate was + kind to us—doubly kind as after events revealed. A wooden gate broke + the expanse of wall hard by upon the right, and, as the result of some + recent accident, a ragged gap had been torn in the panels close to the + top. + </p> + <p> + The chain of the padlock hung loosely; and in a second Smith was up, with + his foot in this as in a stirrup. He threw his arm over the top and drew + himself upright. A second later he was astride the broken gate. + </p> + <p> + “Up you come, Petrie!” he said, and reached down his hand to aid me. + </p> + <p> + I got my foot into the loop of chain, grasped at a projection in the + gatepost and found myself up. + </p> + <p> + “There is a crossbar on this side to stand on,” said Smith. + </p> + <p> + He climbed over and vanished in the darkness. I was still astride the + broken gate when the car turned the corner, slowly, for there was scanty + room; but I was standing upon the bar on the inside and had my head below + the gap ere the driver could possibly have seen me. + </p> + <p> + “Stay where you are until he passes,” hissed my companion, below. “There + is a row of kegs under you.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of the motor passing outside grew loud—louder—then + began to die away. I felt about with my left foot; discerned the top of a + keg, and dropped, panting, beside Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Phew!” I said—“that was a close thing! Smith—how do we know—” + </p> + <p> + “That we have followed the right car?” he interrupted. “Ask yourself the + question: what would any ordinary man be doing motoring in a place like + this at two o’clock in the morning?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Smith,” I agreed. “Shall we get out again?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I have an idea. Look yonder.” + </p> + <p> + He grasped my arm, turning me in the desired direction. + </p> + <p> + Beyond a great expanse of unbroken darkness a ray of moonlight slanted + into the place wherein we stood, spilling its cold radiance upon rows of + kegs. + </p> + <p> + “That’s another door,” continued my friend—I now began dimly to + perceive him beside me. “If my calculations are not entirely wrong, it + opens on a wharf gate—” + </p> + <p> + A steam siren hooted dismally, apparently from quite close at hand. + </p> + <p> + “I’m right!” snapped Smith. “That turning leads down to the gate. Come on, + Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + He directed the light of the electric torch upon a narrow path through the + ranks of casks, and led the way to the further door. A good two feet of + moonlight showed along the top. I heard Smith straining; then— + </p> + <p> + “These kegs are all loaded with grease!” he said, “and I want to + reconnoiter over that door.” + </p> + <p> + “I am leaning on a crate which seems easy to move,” I reported. “Yes, it’s + empty. Lend a hand.” + </p> + <p> + We grasped the empty crate, and between us, set it up on a solid pedestal + of casks. Then Smith mounted to this observation platform and I scrambled + up beside him, and looked down upon the lane outside. + </p> + <p> + It terminated as Smith had foreseen at a wharf gate some six feet to the + right of our post. Piled up in the lane beneath us, against the warehouse + door, was a stack of empty casks. Beyond, over the way, was a kind of + ramshackle building that had possibly been a dwelling-house at some time. + Bills were stuck in the ground-floor window indicating that the three + floors were to let as offices; so much was discernible in that reflected + moonlight. + </p> + <p> + I could hear the tide, lapping upon the wharf, could feel the chill from + the river and hear the vague noises which, night nor day, never cease upon + the great commercial waterway. + </p> + <p> + “Down!” whispered Smith. “Make no noise! I suspected it. They heard the + car following!” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed, clutching at him for support; for I was suddenly dizzy, and my + heart was leaping wildly—furiously. + </p> + <p> + “You saw her?” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + Saw her! yes, I had seen her! And my poor dream-world was toppling about + me, its cities, ashes and its fairness, dust. + </p> + <p> + Peering from the window, her great eyes wondrous in the moonlight and her + red lips parted, hair gleaming like burnished foam and her anxious gaze + set upon the corner of the lane—was Karamaneh... Karamaneh whom once + we had rescued from the house of this fiendish Chinese doctor; Karamaneh + who had been our ally; in fruitless quest of whom,—when, too late, I + realized how empty my life was become—I had wasted what little of + the world’s goods I possessed;—Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Petrie,” murmured Smith—“I knew, but I hadn’t the heart—He + has her again—God knows by what chains he holds her. But she’s only + a woman, old boy, and women are very much alike—very much alike from + Charing Cross to Pagoda Road.” + </p> + <p> + He rested his hand on my shoulder for a moment; I am ashamed to confess + that I was trembling; then, clenching my teeth with that mechanical + physical effort which often accompanies a mental one, I swallowed the + bitter draught of Nayland Smith’s philosophy. He was raising himself, to + peer, cautiously, over the top of the door. I did likewise. + </p> + <p> + The window from which the girl had looked was nearly on a level with our + eyes, and as I raised my head above the woodwork, I quite distinctly saw + her go out of the room. The door, as she opened it, admitted a dull light, + against which her figure showed silhouetted for a moment. Then the door + was reclosed. + </p> + <p> + “We must risk the other windows,” rapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + Before I had grasped the nature of his plan he was over and had dropped + almost noiselessly upon the casks outside. Again I followed his lead. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to attempt anything, singlehanded—against him?” I + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Petrie—Eltham is in that house. He has been brought here to be put + to the question, in the medieval, and Chinese, sense! Is there time to + summon assistance?” + </p> + <p> + I shuddered. This had been in my mind, certainly, but so expressed it was + definitely horrible—revolting, yet stimulating. + </p> + <p> + “You have the pistol,” added Smith—“follow closely, and quietly.” + </p> + <p> + He walked across the tops of the casks and leaped down, pointing to that + nearest to the closed door of the house. I helped him place it under the + open window. A second we set beside it, and, not without some noise, got a + third on top. + </p> + <p> + Smith mounted. + </p> + <p> + His jaw muscles were very prominent and his eyes shone like steel; but he + was as cool as though he were about to enter a theater and not the den of + the most stupendous genius who ever worked for evil. I would forgive any + man who, knowing Dr. Fu-Manchu, feared him; I feared him myself—feared + him as one fears a scorpion; but when Nayland Smith hauled himself up on + the wooden ledge above the door and swung thence into the darkened room, I + followed and was in close upon his heels. But I admired him, for he had + every ampere of his self-possession in hand; my own case was different. + </p> + <p> + He spoke close to my ear. + </p> + <p> + “Is your hand steady? We may have to shoot.” + </p> + <p> + I thought of Karamaneh, of lovely dark-eyed Karamaneh whom this wonderful, + evil product of secret China had stolen from me—for so I now + adjudged it. + </p> + <p> + “Rely upon me!” I said grimly. “I...” + </p> + <p> + The words ceased—frozen on my tongue. + </p> + <p> + There are things that one seeks to forget, but it is my lot often to + remember the sound which at that moment literally struck me rigid with + horror. Yet it was only a groan; but, merciful God! I pray that it may + never be my lot to listen to such a groan again. + </p> + <p> + Smith drew a sibilant breath. + </p> + <p> + “It’s Eltham!” he whispered hoarsely—“they’re torturing—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” screamed a woman’s voice—a voice that thrilled me anew, + but with another emotion— + </p> + <p> + “Not that, not—” + </p> + <p> + I distinctly heard the sound of a blow. Followed a sort of vague + scuffling. A door somewhere at the back of the house opened—and shut + again. Some one was coming along the passage toward us! + </p> + <p> + “Stand back!” Smith’s voice was low, but perfectly steady. “Leave it to + me!” + </p> + <p> + Nearer came the footsteps and nearer. I could hear suppressed sobs. The + door opened, admitting again the faint light—and Karamaneh came in. + The place was quite unfurnished, offering no possibility of hiding; but to + hide was unnecessary. + </p> + <p> + Her slim figure had not crossed the threshold ere Smith had his arm about + the girl’s waist and one hand clapped to her mouth. A stifled gasp she + uttered, and he lifted her into the room. + </p> + <p> + I stepped forward and closed the door. A faint perfume stole to my + nostrils—a vague, elusive breath of the East, reminiscent of strange + days that, now, seemed to belong to a remote past. Karamaneh! that faint, + indefinable perfume was part of her dainty personality; it may appear + absurd—impossible—but many and many a time I had dreamt of it. + </p> + <p> + “In my breast pocket,” rapped Smith; “the light.” + </p> + <p> + I bent over the girl as he held her. She was quite still, but I could have + wished that I had had more certain mastery of myself. I took the torch + from Smith’s pocket, and, mechanically, directed it upon the captive. + </p> + <p> + She was dressed very plainly, wearing a simple blue skirt, and white + blouse. It was easy to divine that it was she whom Eltham had mistaken for + a French maid. A brooch set with a ruby was pinned at the point where the + blouse opened—gleaming fierily and harshly against the soft skin. + Her face was pale and her eyes wide with fear. + </p> + <p> + “There is some cord in my right-hand pocket,” said Smith; “I came + provided. Tie her wrists.” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed him, silently. The girl offered no resistance, but I think I + never essayed a less congenial task than that of binding her white wrists. + The jeweled fingers lay quite listlessly in my own. + </p> + <p> + “Make a good job of it!” rapped Smith, significantly. + </p> + <p> + A flush rose to my cheeks, for I knew well enough what he meant. + </p> + <p> + “She is fastened,” I said, and I turned the ray of the torch upon her + again. + </p> + <p> + Smith removed his hand from her mouth but did not relax his grip of her. + She looked up at me with eyes in which I could have sworn there was no + recognition. But a flush momentarily swept over her face, and left it pale + again. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to—gag her—” + </p> + <p> + “Smith, I can’t do it!” + </p> + <p> + The girl’s eyes filled with tears and she looked up at my companion + pitifully. + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t be cruel to me,” she whispered, with that soft accent which + always played havoc with my composure. “Every one—every one-is cruel + to me. I will promise—indeed I will swear, to be quiet. Oh, believe + me, if you can save him I will do nothing to hinder you.” Her beautiful + head drooped. “Have some pity for me as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh” I said. “We would have believed you once. We cannot, now.” + </p> + <p> + She started violently. + </p> + <p> + “You know my name!” Her voice was barely audible. “Yet I have never seen + you in my life—” + </p> + <p> + “See if the door locks,” interrupted Smith harshly. + </p> + <p> + Dazed by the apparent sincerity in the voice of our lovely captive—vacant + from wonder of it all—I opened the door, felt for, and found, a key. + </p> + <p> + We left Karamaneh crouching against the wall; her great eyes were turned + towards me fascinatedly. Smith locked the door with much care. We began a + tip-toed progress along the dimly lighted passage. + </p> + <p> + From beneath a door on the left, and near the end, a brighter light shone. + Beyond that again was another door. A voice was speaking in the lighted + room; yet I could have sworn that Karamaneh had come, not from there but + from the room beyond—from the far end of the passage. + </p> + <p> + But the voice!—who, having once heard it, could ever mistake that + singular voice, alternately guttural and sibilant! + </p> + <p> + Dr. Fu-Manchu was speaking! + </p> + <p> + “I have asked you,” came with ever-increasing clearness (Smith had begun + to turn the knob), “to reveal to me the name of your correspondent in + Nan-Yang. I have suggested that he may be the Mandarin Yen-Sun-Yat, but + you have declined to confirm me. Yet I know” (Smith had the door open a + good three inches and was peering in) “that some official, some high + official, is a traitor. Am I to resort again to the question to learn his + name?” + </p> + <p> + Ice seemed to enter my veins at the unseen inquisitor’s intonation of the + words “the question.” This was the Twentieth Century, yet there, in that + damnable room... + </p> + <p> + Smith threw the door open. + </p> + <p> + Through a sort of haze, born mostly of horror, but not entirely, I saw + Eltham, stripped to the waist and tied, with his arms upstretched, to a + rafter in the ancient ceiling. A Chinaman who wore a slop-shop blue suit + and who held an open knife in his hand, stood beside him. Eltham was + ghastly white. The appearance of his chest puzzled me momentarily, then I + realized that a sort of tourniquet of wire-netting was screwed so tightly + about him that the flesh swelled out in knobs through the mesh. There was + blood— + </p> + <p> + “God in heaven!” screamed Smith frenziedly—“they have the + wire-jacket on him! Shoot down that damned Chinaman, Petrie! Shoot! + Shoot!” + </p> + <p> + Lithely as a cat the man with the knife leaped around—but I raised + the Browning, and deliberately—with a cool deliberation that came to + me suddenly—shot him through the head. I saw his oblique eyes turn + up to the whites; I saw the mark squarely between his brows; and with no + word nor cry he sank to his knees and toppled forward with one yellow hand + beneath him and one outstretched, clutching—clutching—convulsively. + His pigtail came unfastened and began to uncoil, slowly, like a snake. + </p> + <p> + I handed the pistol to Smith; I was perfectly cool, now; and I leaped + forward, took up the bloody knife from the floor and cut Eltham’s + lashings. He sank into my arms. + </p> + <p> + “Praise God,” he murmured, weakly. “He is more merciful to me than perhaps + I deserve. Unscrew... the jacket, Petrie... I think ... I was very near + to.... weakening. Praise the good God, Who... gave me... fortitude...” + </p> + <p> + I got the screw of the accursed thing loosened, but the act of removing + the jacket was too agonizing for Eltham—man of iron though he was. I + laid him swooning on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Fu-Manchu?” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith, from just within the door, threw out the query in a tone of + stark amaze. I stood up—I could do nothing more for the poor victim + at the moment—and looked about me. The room was innocent of + furniture, save for heaps of rubbish on the floor, and a tin oil-lamp + hung, on the wall. The dead Chinaman lay close beside Smith. There was no + second door, the one window was barred, and from this room we had heard + the voice, the unmistakable, unforgettable voice, of Dr. Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + But Dr. Fu-Manchu was not there! + </p> + <p> + Neither of us could accept the fact for a moment; we stood there, looking + from the dead man to the tortured man who only swooned, in a state of + helpless incredulity. + </p> + <p> + Then the explanation flashed upon us both, simultaneously, and with a cry + of baffled rage Smith leaped along the passage to the second door. It was + wide open. I stood at his elbow when he swept its emptiness with the ray + of his pocket-lamp. + </p> + <p> + There was a speaking-tube fixed between the two rooms! + </p> + <p> + Smith literally ground his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Yet, Petrie,” he said, “we have learnt something. Fu-Manchu had evidently + promised Eltham his life if he would divulge the name of his + correspondent. He meant to keep his word; it is a sidelight on his + character.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Eltham has never seen Dr. Fu-Manchu, but Eltham knows certain parts of + China better than you know the Strand. Probably, if he saw Fu-Manchu, he + would recognize him for who he really is, and this, it seems, the Doctor + is anxious to avoid.” + </p> + <p> + We ran back to where we had left Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + The room was empty! + </p> + <p> + “Defeated, Petrie!” said Smith, bitterly. “The Yellow Devil is loosed on + London again!” + </p> + <p> + He leaned from the window and the skirl of a police whistle split the + stillness of the night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE CRY OF A NIGHTHAWK + </h2> + <p> + Such were the episodes that marked the coming of Dr. Fu-Manchu to London, + that awakened fears long dormant and reopened old wounds—nay, poured + poison into them. I strove desperately, by close attention to my + professional duties, to banish the very memory of Karamaneh from my mind; + desperately, but how vainly! Peace was for me no more, joy was gone from + the world, and only mockery remained as my portion. + </p> + <p> + Poor Eltham we had placed in a nursing establishment, where his + indescribable hurts could be properly tended: and his uncomplaining + fortitude not infrequently made me thoroughly ashamed of myself. Needless + to say, Smith had made such other arrangements as were necessary to + safeguard the injured man, and these proved so successful that the + malignant being whose plans they thwarted abandoned his designs upon the + heroic clergyman and directed his attention elsewhere, as I must now + proceed to relate. + </p> + <p> + Dusk always brought with it a cloud of apprehensions, for darkness must + ever be the ally of crime; and it was one night, long after the clocks had + struck the mystic hour “when churchyards yawn,” that the hand of Dr. + Fu-Manchu again stretched out to grasp a victim. I was dismissing a chance + patient. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Dr. Petrie,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Mr. Forsyth,” I replied; and, having conducted my late + visitor to the door, I closed and bolted it, switched off the light and + went upstairs. + </p> + <p> + My patient was chief officer of one of the P. and O. boats. He had cut his + hand rather badly on the homeward run, and signs of poisoning having + developed, had called to have the wound treated, apologizing for troubling + me at so late an hour, but explaining that he had only just come from the + docks. The hall clock announced the hour of one as I ascended the stairs. + I found myself wondering what there was in Mr. Forsyth’s appearance which + excited some vague and elusive memory. Coming to the top floor, I opened + the door of a front bedroom and was surprised to find the interior in + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I called. + </p> + <p> + “Come here and watch!” was the terse response. Nayland Smith was sitting + in the dark at the open window and peering out across the common. Even as + I saw him, a dim silhouette, I could detect that tensity in his attitude + which told of high-strung nerves. + </p> + <p> + I joined him. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” I said, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Watch that clump of elms.” + </p> + <p> + His masterful voice had the dry tone in it betokening excitement. I leaned + on the ledge beside him and looked out. The blaze of stars almost + compensated for the absence of the moon and the night had a quality of + stillness that made for awe. This was a tropical summer, and the common, + with its dancing lights dotted irregularly about it, had an unfamiliar + look to-night. The clump of nine elms showed as a dense and irregular + mass, lacking detail. + </p> + <p> + Such moods as that which now claimed my friend are magnetic. I had no + thought of the night’s beauty, for it only served to remind me that + somewhere amid London’s millions was lurking an uncanny being, whose life + was a mystery, whose very existence was a scientific miracle. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s your patient?” rapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + His abrupt query diverted my thoughts into a new channel. No footstep + disturbed the silence of the highroad; where was my patient? + </p> + <p> + I craned from the window. Smith grabbed my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t lean out,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I drew back, glancing at him surprisedly. + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven’s sake, why not?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you presently, Petrie. Did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “I did, and I can’t make out what he is doing. He seems to have remained + standing at the gate for some reason.” + </p> + <p> + “He has seen it!” snapped Smith. “Watch those elms.” + </p> + <p> + His hand remained upon my arm, gripping it nervously. Shall I say that I + was surprised? I can say it with truth. But I shall add that I was + thrilled, eerily; for this subdued excitement and alert watching of Smith + could only mean one thing: + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu! + </p> + <p> + And that was enough to set me watching as keenly as he; to set me + listening; not only for sounds outside the house but for sounds within. + Doubts, suspicions, dreads, heaped themselves up in my mind. Why was + Forsyth standing there at the gate? I had never seen him before, to my + knowledge, yet there was something oddly reminiscent about the man. Could + it be that his visit formed part of a plot? Yet his wound had been genuine + enough. Thus my mind worked, feverishly; such was the effect of an + unspoken thought—Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith’s grip tightened on my arm. + </p> + <p> + “There it is again, Petrie!” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Look, look!” + </p> + <p> + His words were wholly unnecessary. I, too, had seen it; a wonderful and + uncanny sight. Out of the darkness under the elms, low down upon the + ground, grew a vaporous blue light. It flared up, elfinish, then began to + ascend. Like an igneous phantom, a witch flame, it rose, high—higher—higher, + to what I adjudged to be some twelve feet or more from the ground. Then, + high in the air, it died away again as it had come! + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, Smith, what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t ask me, Petrie. I have seen it twice. We—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Rapid footsteps sounded below. Over Smith’s shoulder I saw + Forsyth cross the road, climb the low rail, and set out across the common. + </p> + <p> + Smith sprang impetuously to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “We must stop him!” he said hoarsely; then, clapping a hand to my mouth as + I was about to call out—“Not a sound, Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + He ran out of the room and went blundering downstairs in the dark, crying: + </p> + <p> + “Out through the garden—the side entrance!” + </p> + <p> + I overtook him as he threw wide the door of my dispensing room. Through it + he ran and opened the door at the other end. I followed him out, closing + it behind me. The smell from some tobacco plants in a neighboring + flower-bed was faintly perceptible; no breeze stirred; and in the great + silence I could hear Smith, in front of me, tugging at the bolt of the + gate. + </p> + <p> + Then he had it open, and I stepped out, close on his heels, and left the + door ajar. + </p> + <p> + “We must not appear to have come from your house,” explained Smith + rapidly. “I will go along the highroad and cross to the common a hundred + yards up, where there is a pathway, as though homeward bound to the north + side. Give me half a minute’s start, then you proceed in an opposite + direction and cross from the corner of the next road. Directly you are out + of the light of the street lamps, get over the rails and run for the + elms!” + </p> + <p> + He thrust a pistol into my hand and was off. + </p> + <p> + While he had been with me, speaking in that incisive, impetuous way of + his, with his dark face close to mine, and his eyes gleaming like steel, I + had been at one with him in his feverish mood, but now, when I stood + alone, in that staid and respectable byway, holding a loaded pistol in my + hand, the whole thing became utterly unreal. + </p> + <p> + It was in an odd frame of mind that I walked to the next corner, as + directed; for I was thinking, not of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the great and evil man + who dreamed of Europe and America under Chinese rule, not of Nayland + Smith, who alone stood between the Chinaman and the realization of his + monstrous schemes, not even of Karamaneh the slave girl, whose glorious + beauty was a weapon of might in Fu-Manchu’s hand, but of what impression I + must have made upon a patient had I encountered one then. + </p> + <p> + Such were my ideas up to the moment that I crossed to the common and + vaulted into the field on my right. As I began to run toward the elms I + found myself wondering what it was all about, and for what we were come. + Fifty yards west of the trees it occurred to me that if Smith had counted + on cutting Forsyth off we were too late, for it appeared to me that he + must already be in the coppice. + </p> + <p> + I was right. Twenty paces more I ran, and ahead of me, from the elms, came + a sound. Clearly it came through the still air—the eerie hoot of a + nighthawk. I could not recall ever to have heard the cry of that bird on + the common before, but oddly enough I attached little significance to it + until, in the ensuing instant, a most dreadful scream—a scream in + which fear, and loathing, and anger were hideously blended—thrilled + me with horror. + </p> + <p> + After that I have no recollection of anything until I found myself + standing by the southernmost elm. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried breathlessly. “Smith! my God! where are you?” + </p> + <p> + As if in answer to my cry came an indescribable sound, a mingled sobbing + and choking. Out from the shadows staggered a ghastly figure—that of + a man whose face appeared to be streaked. His eyes glared at me madly and + he mowed the air with his hands like one blind and insane with fear. + </p> + <p> + I started back; words died upon my tongue. The figure reeled and the man + fell babbling and sobbing at my very feet. + </p> + <p> + Inert I stood, looking down at him. He writhed a moment—and was + still. The silence again became perfect. Then, from somewhere beyond the + elms, Nayland Smith appeared. I did not move. Even when he stood beside + me, I merely stared at him fatuously. + </p> + <p> + “I let him walk to his death, Petrie,” I heard dimly. “God forgive me—God + forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + The words aroused me. + </p> + <p> + “Smith”—my voice came as a whisper—“for one awful moment I + thought—” + </p> + <p> + “So did some one else,” he rapped. “Our poor sailor has met the end + designed for me, Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + At that I realized two things: I knew why Forsyth’s face had struck me as + being familiar in some puzzling way, and I knew why Forsyth now lay dead + upon the grass. Save that he was a fair man and wore a slight mustache, he + was, in features and build, the double of Nayland Smith! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE NET + </h2> + <p> + We raised the poor victim and turned him over on his back. I dropped upon + my knees, and with unsteady fingers began to strike a match. A slight + breeze was arising and sighing gently through the elms, but, screened by + my hands, the flame of the match took life. It illuminated wanly the + sun-baked face of Nayland Smith, his eyes gleaming with unnatural + brightness. I bent forward, and the dying light of the match touched that + other face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God!” whispered Smith. + </p> + <p> + A faint puff of wind extinguished the match. + </p> + <p> + In all my surgical experience I had never met with anything quite so + horrible. Forsyth’s livid face was streaked with tiny streams of blood, + which proceeded from a series of irregular wounds. One group of these + clustered upon his left temple, another beneath his right eye, and others + extended from the chin down to the throat. They were black, almost like + tattoo marks, and the entire injured surface was bloated indescribably. + His fists were clenched; he was quite rigid. + </p> + <p> + Smith’s piercing eyes were set upon me eloquently as I knelt on the path + and made my examination—an examination which that first glimpse when + Forsyth came staggering out from the trees had rendered useless—a + mere matter of form. + </p> + <p> + “He’s quite dead, Smith,” I said huskily. “It’s—unnatural—it—” + </p> + <p> + Smith began beating his fist into his left palm and taking little, short, + nervous strides up and down beside the dead man. I could hear a car + humming along the highroad, but I remained there on my knees staring dully + at the disfigured bloody face which but a matter of minutes since had been + that of a clean looking British seaman. I found myself contrasting his + neat, squarely trimmed mustache with the bloated face above it, and + counting the little drops of blood which trembled upon its edge. There + were footsteps approaching. I stood up. The footsteps quickened; and I + turned as a constable ran up. + </p> + <p> + “What’s this?” he demanded gruffly, and stood with his fists clenched, + looking from Smith to me and down at that which lay between us. Then his + hand flew to his breast; there was a silvern gleam and— + </p> + <p> + “Drop that whistle!” snapped Smith—and struck it from the man’s + hand. “Where’s your lantern? Don’t ask questions!” + </p> + <p> + The constable started back and was evidently debating upon his chances + with the two of us, when my friend pulled a letter from his pocket and + thrust it under the man’s nose. + </p> + <p> + “Read that!” he directed harshly, “and then listen to my orders.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in his voice which changed the officer’s opinion of + the situation. He directed the light of his lantern upon the open letter + and seemed to be stricken with wonder. + </p> + <p> + “If you have any doubts,” continued Smith—“you may not be familiar + with the Commissioner’s signature—you have only to ring up Scotland + Yard from Dr. Petrie’s house, to which we shall now return, to disperse + them.” He pointed to Forsyth. “Help us to carry him there. We must not be + seen; this must be hushed up. You understand? It must not get into the + press—” + </p> + <p> + The man saluted respectfully; and the three of us addressed ourselves to + the mournful task. By slow stages we bore the dead man to the edge of the + common, carried him across the road and into my house, without exciting + attention even on the part of those vagrants who nightly slept out in the + neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + We laid our burden upon the surgery table. + </p> + <p> + “You will want to make an examination, Petrie,” said Smith in his decisive + way, “and the officer here might ‘phone for the ambulance. I have some + investigations to make also. I must have the pocket lamp.” + </p> + <p> + He raced upstairs to his room, and an instant later came running down + again. The front door banged. + </p> + <p> + “The telephone is in the hall,” I said to the constable. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He went out of the surgery as I switched on the lamp over the table and + began to examine the marks upon Forsyth’s skin. These, as I have said, + were in groups and nearly all in the form of elongated punctures; a fairly + deep incision with a pear-shaped and superficial scratch beneath it. One + of the tiny wounds had penetrated the right eye. + </p> + <p> + The symptoms, or those which I had been enabled to observe as Forsyth had + first staggered into view from among the elms, were most puzzling. Clearly + enough, the muscles of articulation and the respiratory muscles had been + affected; and now the livid face, dotted over with tiny wounds (they were + also on the throat), set me mentally groping for a clue to the manner of + his death. + </p> + <p> + No clue presented itself; and my detailed examination of the body availed + me nothing. The gray herald of dawn was come when the police arrived with + the ambulance and took Forsyth away. + </p> + <p> + I was just taking my cap from the rack when Nayland Smith returned. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried—“have you found anything?” + </p> + <p> + He stood there in the gray light of the hallway, tugging at the lobe of + his left ear, an old trick of his. + </p> + <p> + The bronzed face looked very gaunt, I thought, and his eyes were bright + with that febrile glitter which once I had disliked, but which I had + learned from experience were due to tremendous nervous excitement. At such + times he could act with icy coolness and his mental faculties seemed + temporarily to acquire an abnormal keenness. He made no direct reply; but— + </p> + <p> + “Have you any milk?” he jerked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + So wholly unexpected was the question, that for a moment I failed to grasp + it. Then— + </p> + <p> + “Milk!” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly, Petrie! If you can find me some milk, I shall be obliged.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to descend to the kitchen, when— + </p> + <p> + “The remains of the turbot from dinner, Petrie, would also be welcome, and + I think I should like a trowel.” + </p> + <p> + I stopped at the stairhead and faced him. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot suppose that you are joking, Smith,” I said, “but—” + </p> + <p> + He laughed dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, old man,” he replied. “I was so preoccupied with my own train + of thought that it never occurred to me how absurd my request must have + sounded. I will explain my singular tastes later; at the moment, hustle is + the watchword.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently he was in earnest, and I ran downstairs accordingly, returning + with a garden trowel, a plate of cold fish and a glass of milk. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Petrie,” said Smith—“If you would put the milk in a jug—” + </p> + <p> + I was past wondering, so I simply went and fetched a jug, into which he + poured the milk. Then, with the trowel in his pocket, the plate of cold + turbot in one hand and the milk jug in the other, he made for the door. He + had it open when another idea evidently occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll trouble you for the pistol, Petrie.” + </p> + <p> + I handed him the pistol without a word. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t assume that I want to mystify you,” he added, “but the presence of + any one else might jeopardize my plan. I don’t expect to be long.” + </p> + <p> + The cold light of dawn flooded the hallway momentarily; then the door + closed again and I went upstairs to my study, watching Nayland Smith as he + strode across the common in the early morning mist. He was making for the + Nine Elms, but I lost sight of him before he reached them. + </p> + <p> + I sat there for some time, watching for the first glow of sunrise. A + policeman tramped past the house, and, a while later, a belated reveler in + evening clothes. That sense of unreality assailed me again. Out there in + the gray mists a man who was vested with powers which rendered him a law + unto himself, who had the British Government behind him in all that he + might choose to do, who had been summoned from Rangoon to London on + singular and dangerous business, was employing himself with a plate of + cold turbot, a jug of milk, and a trowel! + </p> + <p> + Away to the right, and just barely visible, a tramcar stopped by the + common; then proceeded on its way, coming in a westerly direction. Its + lights twinkled yellowly through the grayness, but I was less concerned + with the approaching car than with the solitary traveler who had descended + from it. + </p> + <p> + As the car went rocking by below me, I strained my eyes in an endeavor + more clearly to discern the figure, which, leaving the highroad, had + struck out across the common. It was that of a woman, who seemingly + carried a bulky bag or parcel. + </p> + <p> + One must be a gross materialist to doubt that there are latent powers in + man which man, in modern times, neglects, or knows not how to develop. I + became suddenly conscious of a burning curiosity respecting this lonely + traveler who traveled at an hour so strange. With no definite plan in + mind, I went downstairs, took a cap from the rack, and walked briskly out + of the house and across the common in a direction which I thought would + enable me to head off the woman. + </p> + <p> + I had slightly miscalculated the distance, as Fate would have it, and with + a patch of gorse effectually screening my approach, I came upon her, + kneeling on the damp grass and unfastening the bundle which had attracted + my attention. I stopped and watched her. + </p> + <p> + She was dressed in bedraggled fashion in rusty black, wore a common black + straw hat and a thick veil; but it seemed to me that the dexterous hands + at work untying the bundle were slim and white; and I perceived a pair of + hideous cotton gloves lying on the turf beside her. As she threw open the + wrappings and lifted out something that looked like a small shrimping net, + I stepped around the bush, crossed silently the intervening patch of + grass, and stood beside her. + </p> + <p> + A faint breath of perfume reached me—of a perfume which, like the + secret incense of Ancient Egypt, seemed to assail my soul. The glamour of + the Orient was in that subtle essence; and I only knew one woman who used + it. I bent over the kneeling figure. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning,” I said; “can I assist you in any way?” + </p> + <p> + She came to her feet like a startled deer, and flung away from me with the + lithe movement of some Eastern dancing girl. + </p> + <p> + Now came the sun, and its heralding rays struck sparks from the jewels + upon the white fingers of this woman who wore the garments of a mendicant. + My heart gave a great leap. It was with difficulty that I controlled my + voice. + </p> + <p> + “There is no cause for alarm,” I added. + </p> + <p> + She stood watching me; even through the coarse veil I could see how her + eyes glittered. I stooped and picked up the net. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” The whispered word was scarcely audible, but it was enough; I + doubted no longer. + </p> + <p> + “This is a net for bird snaring,” I said. “What strange bird are you + seeking—Karamaneh?” + </p> + <p> + With a passionate gesture Karamaneh snatched off the veil, and with it the + ugly black hat. The cloud of wonderful, intractable hair came rumpling + about her face, and her glorious eyes blazed out upon me. How beautiful + they were, with the dark beauty of an Egyptian night; how often had they + looked into mine in dreams! + </p> + <p> + To labor against a ceaseless yearning for a woman whom one knows, upon + evidence that none but a fool might reject, to be worthless—evil; is + there any torture to which the soul of man is subject, more pitiless? Yet + this was my lot, for what past sins assigned to me I was unable to + conjecture; and this was the woman, this lovely slave of a monster, this + creature of Dr. Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will declare that you do not know me!” I said harshly. + </p> + <p> + Her lips trembled, but she made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “It is very convenient to forget, sometimes,” I ran on bitterly, then + checked myself; for I knew that my words were prompted by a feckless + desire to hear her defense, by a fool’s hope that it might be an + acceptable one. + </p> + <p> + I looked again at the net contrivance in my hand; it had a strong spring + fitted to it and a line attached. Quite obviously it was intended for + snaring. + </p> + <p> + “What were you about to do?” I demanded sharply—but in my heart, + poor fool that I was, I found admiration for the exquisite arch of + Karamaneh’s lips, and reproach because they were so tremulous. + </p> + <p> + She spoke then. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Petrie—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be—angry with me, not so much because of what I do, as + because I do not remember you. Yet—” + </p> + <p> + “Kindly do not revert to the matter,” I interrupted. “You have chosen, + very conveniently, to forget that once we were friends. Please yourself. + But answer my question.” + </p> + <p> + She clasped her hands with a sort of wild abandon. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you treat me so!” she cried; she had the most fascinating accent + imaginable. “Throw me into prison, kill me if you like, for what I have + done!” She stamped her foot. “For what I have done! But do not torture me, + try to drive me mad with your reproaches—that I forget you! I tell + you—again I tell you—that until you came one night, last week, + to rescue some one from—” There was the old trick of hesitating + before the name of Fu-Manchu—“from him, I had never, never seen + you!” + </p> + <p> + The dark eyes looked into mine, afire with a positive hunger for belief—or + so I was sorely tempted to suppose. But the facts were against her. + </p> + <p> + “Such a declaration is worthless,” I said, as coldly as I could. “You are + a traitress; you betray those who are mad enough to trust you—” + </p> + <p> + “I am no traitress!” she blazed at me; her eyes were magnificent. + </p> + <p> + “This is mere nonsense. You think that it will pay you better to serve + Fu-Manchu than to remain true to your friends. Your ‘slavery’—for I + take it you are posing as a slave again—is evidently not very harsh. + You serve Fu-Manchu, lure men to their destruction, and in return he loads + you with jewels, lavishes gifts—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so!” + </p> + <p> + She sprang forward, raising flaming eyes to mine; her lips were slightly + parted. With that wild abandon which betrayed the desert blood in her + veins, she wrenched open the neck of her bodice and slipped a soft + shoulder free of the garment. She twisted around, so that the white skin + was but inches removed from me. + </p> + <p> + “These are some of the gifts that he lavishes upon me!” + </p> + <p> + I clenched my teeth. Insane thoughts flooded my mind. For that creamy skin + was red with the marks of the lash! + </p> + <p> + She turned, quickly rearranging her dress, and watching me the while. I + could not trust myself to speak for a moment, then: + </p> + <p> + “If I am a stranger to you, as you claim, why do you give me your + confidence?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have known you long enough to trust you!” she said simply, and turned + her head aside. + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you serve this inhuman monster?” + </p> + <p> + She snapped her fingers oddly, and looked up at me from under her lashes. + “Why do you question me if you think that everything I say is a lie?” + </p> + <p> + It was a lesson in logic—from a woman! I changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you came here to do,” I demanded. + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the net in my hands. + </p> + <p> + “To catch birds; you have said so yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “What bird?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + And now a memory was born within my brain; it was that of the cry of the + nighthawk which had harbingered the death of Forsyth! The net was a large + and strong one; could it be that some horrible fowl of the air—some + creature unknown to Western naturalists—had been released upon the + common last night? I thought of the marks upon Forsyth’s face and throat; + I thought of the profound knowledge of obscure and dreadful things + possessed by the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + The wrapping, in which the net had been, lay at my feet. I stooped and + took out from it a wicker basket. Karamaneh stood watching me and biting + her lip, but she made no move to check me. I opened the basket. It + contained a large phial, the contents of which possessed a pungent and + peculiar smell. + </p> + <p> + I was utterly mystified. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to accompany me to my house,” I said sternly. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh upturned her great eyes to mine. They were wide with fear. She + was on the point of speaking when I extended my hand to grasp her. At + that, the look of fear was gone and one of rebellion held its place. Ere I + had time to realize her purpose, she flung back from me with that wild + grace which I had met with in no other woman, turned and ran! + </p> + <p> + Fatuously, net and basket in hand, I stood looking after her. The idea of + pursuit came to me certainly; but I doubted if I could have outrun her. + For Karamaneh ran, not like a girl used to town or even country life, but + with the lightness and swiftness of a gazelle; ran like the daughter of + the desert that she was. + </p> + <p> + Some two hundred yards she went, stopped, and looked back. It would seem + that the sheer joy of physical effort had aroused the devil in her, the + devil that must lie latent in every woman with eyes like the eyes of + Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + In the ever brightening sunlight I could see the lithe figure swaying; no + rags imaginable could mask its beauty. I could see the red lips and + gleaming teeth. Then—and it was music good to hear, despite its + taunt—she laughed defiantly, turned, and ran again! + </p> + <p> + I resigned myself to defeat; I blush to add, gladly! Some evidences of a + world awakening were perceptible about me now. Feathered choirs hailed the + new day joyously. Carrying the mysterious contrivance which I had captured + from the enemy, I set out in the direction of my house, my mind very busy + with conjectures respecting the link between this bird snare and the cry + like that of a nighthawk which we had heard at the moment of Forsyth’s + death. + </p> + <p> + The path that I had chosen led me around the border of the Mound Pond—a + small pool having an islet in the center. Lying at the margin of the pond + I was amazed to see the plate and jug which Nayland Smith had borrowed + recently! + </p> + <p> + Dropping my burden, I walked down to the edge of the water. I was filled + with a sudden apprehension. Then, as I bent to pick up the now empty jug, + came a hail: + </p> + <p> + “All right, Petrie! Shall join you in a moment!” + </p> + <p> + I started up, looked to right and left; but, although the voice had been + that of Nayland Smith, no sign could I discern of his presence! + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried—“Smith!” + </p> + <p> + “Coming!” + </p> + <p> + Seriously doubting my senses, I looked in the direction from which the + voice had seemed to proceed—and there was Nayland Smith. + </p> + <p> + He stood on the islet in the center of the pond, and, as I perceived him, + he walked down into the shallow water and waded across to me! + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” I began— + </p> + <p> + One of his rare laughs interrupted me. + </p> + <p> + “You must think me mad this morning, Petrie!” he said. “But I have made + several discoveries. Do you know what that islet in the pond really is?” + </p> + <p> + “Merely an islet, I suppose—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the kind; it is a burial mound, Petrie! It marks the site of + one of the Plague Pits where victims were buried during the Great Plague + of London. You will observe that, although you have seen it every morning + for some years, it remains for a British Commissioner resident in Burma to + acquaint you with its history! Hullo!”—the laughter was gone from + his eyes, and they were steely hard again—“what the blazes have we + here!” + </p> + <p> + He picked up the net. “What! a bird trap!” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” I said. + </p> + <p> + Smith turned his searching gaze upon me. “Where did you find it, Petrie?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not exactly find it,” I replied; and I related to him the + circumstances of my meeting with Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + He directed that cold stare upon me throughout the narrative, and when, + with some embarrassment, I had told him of the girl’s escape— + </p> + <p> + “Petrie,” he said succinctly, “you are an imbecile!” + </p> + <p> + I flushed with anger, for not even from Nayland Smith, whom I esteemed + above all other men, could I accept such words uttered as he had uttered + them. We glared at one another. + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh,” he continued coldly, “is a beautiful toy, I grant you; but so + is a cobra. Neither is suitable for playful purposes.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried hotly—“drop that! Adopt another tone or I cannot + listen to you!” + </p> + <p> + “You must listen,” he said, squaring his lean jaw truculently. “You are + playing, not only with a pretty girl who is the favorite of a Chinese + Nero, but with my life! And I object, Petrie, on purely personal grounds!” + </p> + <p> + I felt my anger oozing from me; for this was strictly just. I had nothing + to say, and Smith continued: + </p> + <p> + “You know that she is utterly false, yet a glance or two from those dark + eyes of hers can make a fool of you! A woman made a fool of me, once; but + I learned my lesson; you have failed to learn yours. If you are determined + to go to pieces on the rock that broke up Adam, do so! But don’t involve + me in the wreck, Petrie—for that might mean a yellow emperor of the + world, and you know it!” + </p> + <p> + “Your words are unnecessarily brutal, Smith,” I said, feeling very + crestfallen, “but there—perhaps I fully deserve them all.” + </p> + <p> + “You do!” he assured me, but he relaxed immediately. “A murderous attempt + is made upon my life, resulting in the death of a perfectly innocent man + in no way concerned. Along you come and let an accomplice, perhaps a + participant, escape, merely, because she has a red mouth, or black lashes, + or whatever it is that fascinates you so hopelessly!” + </p> + <p> + He opened the wicker basket, sniffing at the contents. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he snapped, “do you recognize this odor?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have some idea respecting Karamaneh’s quarry?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the kind!” + </p> + <p> + Smith shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Petrie,” he said, linking his arm in mine. + </p> + <p> + We proceeded. Many questions there were that I wanted to put to him, but + one above all. + </p> + <p> + “Smith,” I said, “what, in Heaven’s name, were you doing on the mound? + Digging something up?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied, smiling dryly; “burying something!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. UNDER THE ELMS + </h2> + <p> + Dusk found Nayland Smith and me at the top bedroom window. We knew, now + that poor Forsyth’s body had been properly examined, that he had died from + poisoning. Smith, declaring that I did not deserve his confidence, had + refused to confide in me his theory of the origin of the peculiar marks + upon the body. + </p> + <p> + “On the soft ground under the trees,” he said, “I found his tracks right + up to the point where something happened. There were no other fresh tracks + for several yards around. He was attacked as he stood close to the trunk + of one of the elms. Six or seven feet away I found some other tracks, very + much like this.” + </p> + <p> + He marked a series of dots upon the blotting pad at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Claws!” I cried. “That eerie call! like the call of a nighthawk—is + it some unknown species of—flying thing?” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see, shortly; possibly to-night,” was his reply. “Since, + probably owing to the absence of any moon, a mistake was made,” his jaw + hardened at the thoughts of poor Forsyth—“another attempt along the + same lines will almost certainly follow—you know Fu-Manchu’s + system?” + </p> + <p> + So in the darkness, expectant, we sat watching the group of nine elms. + To-night the moon was come, raising her Aladdin’s lamp up to the star + world and summoning magic shadows into being. By midnight the highroad + showed deserted, the common was a place of mystery; and save for the + periodical passage of an electric car, in blazing modernity, this was a + fit enough stage for an eerie drama. + </p> + <p> + No notice of the tragedy had appeared in print; Nayland Smith was vested + with powers to silence the press. No detectives, no special constables, + were posted. My friend was of opinion that the publicity which had been + given to the deeds of Dr. Fu-Manchu in the past, together with the + sometimes clumsy co-operation of the police, had contributed not a little + to the Chinaman’s success. + </p> + <p> + “There is only one thing to fear,” he jerked suddenly; “he may not be + ready for another attempt to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Since he has only been in England for a short time, his menagerie of + venomous things may be a limited one at present.” + </p> + <p> + Earlier in the evening there had been a brief but violent thunderstorm, + with a tropical downpour of rain, and now clouds were scudding across the + blue of the sky. Through a temporary rift in the veiling the crescent of + the moon looked down upon us. It had a greenish tint, and it set me + thinking of the filmed, green eyes of Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + The cloud passed and a lake of silver spread out to the edge of the + coppice, where it terminated at a shadow bank. + </p> + <p> + “There it is, Petrie!” hissed Nayland Smith. + </p> + <p> + A lambent light was born in the darkness; it rose slowly, unsteadily, to a + great height, and died. + </p> + <p> + “It’s under the trees, Smith!” + </p> + <p> + But he was already making for the door. Over his shoulder: + </p> + <p> + “Bring the pistol, Petrie!” he cried; “I have another. Give me at least + twenty yards’ start or no attempt may be made. But the instant I’m under + the trees, join me.” + </p> + <p> + Out of the house we ran, and over onto the common, which latterly had been + a pageant ground for phantom warring. The light did not appear again; and + as Smith plunged off toward the trees, I wondered if he knew what uncanny + thing was hidden there. I more than suspected that he had solved the + mystery. + </p> + <p> + His instructions to keep well in the rear I understood. Fu-Manchu, or the + creature of Fu-Manchu, would attempt nothing in the presence of a witness. + But we knew full well that the instrument of death which was hidden in the + elm coppice could do its ghastly work and leave no clue, could slay and + vanish. For had not Forsyth come to a dreadful end while Smith and I were + within twenty yards of him? + </p> + <p> + Not a breeze stirred, as Smith, ahead of me—for I had slowed my pace—came + up level with the first tree. The moon sailed clear of the straggling + cloud wisps which alone told of the recent storm; and I noted that an + irregular patch of light lay silvern on the moist ground under the elms + where otherwise lay shadow. + </p> + <p> + He passed on, slowly. I began to run again. Black against the silvern + patch, I saw him emerge—and look up. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, Smith!” I cried—and I was racing under the trees to + join him. + </p> + <p> + Uttering a loud cry, he leaped—away from the pool of light. + </p> + <p> + “Stand back, Petrie!” he screamed—“Back! further!” + </p> + <p> + He charged into me, shoulder lowered, and sent me reeling! + </p> + <p> + Mixed up with his excited cry I had heard a loud splintering and sweeping + of branches overhead; and now as we staggered into the shadows it seemed + that one of the elms was reaching down to touch us! So, at least, the + phenomenon presented itself to my mind in that fleeting moment while + Smith, uttering his warning cry, was hurling me back. + </p> + <p> + Then the truth became apparent. + </p> + <p> + With an appalling crash, a huge bough fell from above. One piercing, awful + shriek there was, a crackling of broken branches, and a choking groan... + </p> + <p> + The crack of Smith’s pistol close beside me completed my confusion of + mind. + </p> + <p> + “Missed!” he yelled. “Shoot it, Petrie! On your left! For God’s sake don’t + miss it!” + </p> + <p> + I turned. A lithe black shape was streaking past me. I fired—once—twice. + Another frightful cry made yet more hideous the nocturne. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith was directing the ray of a pocket torch upon the fallen + bough. + </p> + <p> + “Have you killed it, Petrie?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” + </p> + <p> + I stood beside him, looking down. From the tangle of leaves and twigs an + evil yellow face looked up at us. The features were contorted with agony, + but the malignant eyes, wherein light was dying, regarded us with + inflexible hatred. The man was pinned beneath the heavy bough; his back + was broken; and as we watched, he expired, frothing slightly at the mouth, + and quitted his tenement of clay, leaving those glassy eyes set hideously + upon us. + </p> + <p> + “The pagan gods fight upon our side,” said Smith strangely. “Elms have a + dangerous habit of shedding boughs in still weather—particularly + after a storm. Pan, god of the woods, with this one has performed + Justice’s work of retribution.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand. Where was this man—” + </p> + <p> + “Up the tree, lying along the bough which fell, Petrie! That is why he + left no footmarks. Last night no doubt he made his escape by swinging from + bough to bough, ape fashion, and descending to the ground somewhere at the + other side of the coppice.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at me. + </p> + <p> + “You are wondering, perhaps,” he suggested, “what caused the mysterious + light? I could have told you this morning, but I fear I was in a bad + temper, Petrie. It’s very simple: a length of tape soaked in spirit or + something of the kind, and sheltered from the view of any one watching + from your windows, behind the trunk of the tree; then, the end ignited, + lowered, still behind the tree, to the ground. The operator swinging it + around, the flame ascended, of course. I found the unburned fragment of + the tape last night, a few yards from here.” + </p> + <p> + I was peering down at Fu-Manchu’s servant, the hideous yellow man who lay + dead in a bower of elm leaves. + </p> + <p> + “He has some kind of leather bag beside him,” I began— + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” rapped Smith. “In that he carried his dangerous instrument of + death; from that he released it!” + </p> + <p> + “Released what?” + </p> + <p> + “What your fascinating friend came to recapture this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t taunt me, Smith!” I said bitterly. “Is it some species of bird?” + </p> + <p> + “You saw the marks on Forsyth’s body, and I told you of those which I had + traced upon the ground here. They were caused by claws, Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + “Claws! I thought so! But what claws?” + </p> + <p> + “The claws of a poisonous thing. I recaptured the one used last night, + killed it—against my will—and buried it on the mound. I was + afraid to throw it in the pond, lest some juvenile fisherman should pull + it out and sustain a scratch. I don’t know how long the claws would remain + venomous.” + </p> + <p> + “You are treating me like a child, Smith,” I said slowly. “No doubt I am + hopelessly obtuse, but perhaps you will tell me what this Chinaman carried + in a leather bag and released upon Forsyth. It was something which you + recaptured, apparently with the aid of a plate of cold turbot and a jug of + milk! It was something, also, which Karamaneh had been sent to recapture + with the aid—” + </p> + <p> + I stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said Nayland Smith, turning the ray to the left, “what did she + have in the basket?” + </p> + <p> + “Valerian,” I replied mechanically. + </p> + <p> + The ray rested upon the lithe creature that I had shot down. + </p> + <p> + It was a black cat! + </p> + <p> + “A cat will go through fire and water for valerian,” said Smith; “but I + got first innings this morning with fish and milk! I had recognized the + imprints under the trees for those of a cat, and I knew, that if a cat had + been released here it would still be hiding in the neighborhood, probably + in the bushes. I finally located a cat, sure enough, and came for bait! I + laid my trap, for the animal was too frightened to be approachable, and + then shot it; I had to. That yellow fiend used the light as a decoy. The + branch which killed him jutted out over the path at a spot where an + opening in the foliage above allowed some moon rays to penetrate. Directly + the victim stood beneath, the Chinaman uttered his bird cry; the one below + looked up, and the cat, previously held silent and helpless in the leather + sack, was dropped accurately upon his head!” + </p> + <p> + “But”—I was growing confused. + </p> + <p> + Smith stooped lower. + </p> + <p> + “The cat’s claws are sheathed now,” he said; “but if you could examine + them you would find that they are coated with a shining black substance. + Only Fu-Manchu knows what that substance is, Petrie, but you and I know + what it can do!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. ENTER MR. ABEL SLATTIN + </h2> + <p> + “I don’t blame you!” rapped Nayland Smith. “Suppose we say, then, a + thousand pounds if you show us the present hiding-place of Fu-Manchu, the + payment to be in no way subject to whether we profit by your information + or not?” + </p> + <p> + Abel Slattin shrugged his shoulders, racially, and returned to the + armchair which he had just quitted. He reseated himself, placing his hat + and cane upon my writing-table. + </p> + <p> + “A little agreement in black and white?” he suggested smoothly. + </p> + <p> + Smith raised himself up out of the white cane chair, and, bending forward + over a corner of the table, scribbled busily upon a sheet of notepaper + with my fountain-pen. + </p> + <p> + The while he did so, I covertly studied our visitor. He lay back in the + armchair, his heavy eyelids lowered deceptively. He was a thought + overdressed—a big man, dark-haired and well groomed, who toyed with + a monocle most unsuitable to his type. During the preceding conversation, + I had been vaguely surprised to note Mr. Abel Slattin’s marked American + accent. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, when Slattin moved, a big diamond which he wore upon the third + finger of his right hand glittered magnificently. There was a sort of + bluish tint underlying the dusky skin, noticeable even in his hands but + proclaiming itself significantly in his puffy face and especially under + the eyes. I diagnosed a laboring valve somewhere in the heart system. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith’s pen scratched on. My glance strayed from our Semitic + caller to his cane, lying upon the red leather before me. It was of most + unusual workmanship, apparently Indian, being made of some kind of dark + brown, mottled wood, bearing a marked resemblance to a snake’s skin; and + the top of the cane was carved in conformity, to represent the head of + what I took to be a puff-adder, fragments of stone, or beads, being + inserted to represent the eyes, and the whole thing being finished with an + artistic realism almost startling. + </p> + <p> + When Smith had tossed the written page to Slattin, and he, having read it + with an appearance of carelessness, had folded it neatly and placed it in + his pocket, I said: + </p> + <p> + “You have a curio here?” + </p> + <p> + Our visitor, whose dark eyes revealed all the satisfaction which, by his + manner, he sought to conceal, nodded and took up the cane in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “It comes from Australia, Doctor,” he replied; “it’s aboriginal work, and + was given to me by a client. You thought it was Indian? Everybody does. + It’s my mascot.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “It is indeed. Its former owner ascribed magical powers to it! In fact, I + believe he thought that it was one of those staffs mentioned in biblical + history—” + </p> + <p> + “Aaron’s rod?” suggested Smith, glancing at the cane. + </p> + <p> + “Something of the sort,” said Slattin, standing up and again preparing to + depart. + </p> + <p> + “You will ‘phone us, then?” asked my friend. + </p> + <p> + “You will hear from me to-morrow,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + Smith returned to the cane armchair, and Slattin, bowing to both of us, + made his way to the door as I rang for the girl to show him out. + </p> + <p> + “Considering the importance of his proposal,” I began, as the door closed, + “you hardly received our visitor with cordiality.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate to have any relations with him,” answered my friend; “but we must + not be squeamish respecting our instruments in dealing with Dr. Fu-Manchu. + Slattin has a rotten reputation—even for a private inquiry agent. He + is little better than a blackmailer—” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I called on our friend Weymouth at the Yard yesterday and looked + up the man’s record.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever for?” + </p> + <p> + “I knew that he was concerning himself, for some reason, in the case. + Beyond doubt he has established some sort of communication with the + Chinese group; I am only wondering—” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I do, Petrie! I tell you he is unscrupulous enough to stoop + even to that.” + </p> + <p> + No doubt, Slattin knew that this gaunt, eager-eyed Burmese commissioner + was vested with ultimate authority in his quest of the mighty Chinaman who + represented things unutterable, whose potentialities for evil were + boundless as his genius, who personified a secret danger, the extent and + nature of which none of us truly understood. And, learning of these + things, with unerring Semitic instinct he had sought an opening in this + glittering Rialto. But there were two bidders! + </p> + <p> + “You think he may have sunk so low as to become a creature of Fu-Manchu?” + I asked, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! If it paid him well I do not doubt that he would serve that + master as readily as any other. His record is about as black as it well + could be. Slattin is of course an assumed name; he was known as Lieutenant + Pepley when he belonged to the New York Police, and he was kicked out of + the service for complicity in an unsavory Chinatown case.” + </p> + <p> + “Chinatown!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Petrie, it made me wonder, too; and we must not forget that he is + undeniably a clever scoundrel.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you keep any appointment which he may suggest?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly. But I shall not wait until tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + “I propose to pay a little informal visit to Mr. Abel Slattin, to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “At his office?” + </p> + <p> + “No; at his private residence. If, as I more than suspect, his object is + to draw us into some trap, he will probably report his favorable progress + to his employer to-night!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we should have followed him!” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stood up and divested himself of the old shooting-jacket. + </p> + <p> + “He has been followed, Petrie,” he replied, with one of his rare smiles. + “Two C.I.D. men have been watching the house all night!” + </p> + <p> + This was entirely characteristic of my friend’s farseeing methods. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” I said, “you saw Eltham this morning. He will soon be + convalescent. Where, in heaven’s name, can he—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be alarmed on his behalf, Petrie,” interrupted Smith. “His life is + no longer in danger.” + </p> + <p> + I stared, stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “No longer in danger!” + </p> + <p> + “He received, some time yesterday, a letter, written in Chinese, upon + Chinese paper, and enclosed in an ordinary business envelope, having a + typewritten address and bearing a London postmark.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “As nearly as I can render the message in English, it reads: ‘Although, + because you are a brave man, you would not betray your correspondent in + China, he has been discovered. He was a mandarin, and as I cannot write + the name of a traitor, I may not name him. He was executed four days ago. + I salute you and pray for your speedy recovery. Fu-Manchu.’” + </p> + <p> + “Fu-Manchu! But it is almost certainly a trap.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, Petrie—Fu-Manchu would not have written in Chinese + unless he were sincere; and, to clear all doubt, I received a cable this + morning reporting that the Mandarin Yen-Sun-Yat was assassinated in his + own garden, in Nan-Yang, one day last week.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. DR. FU-MANCHU STRIKES + </h2> + <p> + Together we marched down the slope of the quiet, suburban avenue; to take + pause before a small, detached house displaying the hatchet boards of the + Estate Agent. Here we found unkempt laurel bushes and acacias run riot, + from which arboreal tangle protruded the notice—“To be Let or Sold.” + </p> + <p> + Smith, with an alert glance to right and left, pushed open the wooden gate + and drew me in upon the gravel path. Darkness mantled all; for the nearest + street lamp was fully twenty yards beyond. + </p> + <p> + From the miniature jungle bordering the path, a soft whistle sounded. + </p> + <p> + “Is that Carter?” called Smith, sharply. + </p> + <p> + A shadowy figure uprose, and vaguely I made it out for that of a man in + the unobtrusive blue serge which is the undress uniform of the Force. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” rapped my companion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Slattin returned ten minutes ago, sir,” reported the constable. “He + came in a cab which he dismissed—” + </p> + <p> + “He has not left again?” + </p> + <p> + “A few minutes after his return,” the man continued, “another cab came up, + and a lady alighted.” + </p> + <p> + “A lady!” + </p> + <p> + “The same, sir, that has called upon him before.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I whispered, plucking at his arm—“is it—” + </p> + <p> + He half turned, nodding his head; and my heart began to throb foolishly. + For now the manner of Slattin’s campaign suddenly was revealed to me. In + our operations against the Chinese murder-group two years before, we had + had an ally in the enemy’s camp—Karamaneh the beautiful slave, whose + presence in those happenings of the past had colored the sometimes sordid + drama with the opulence of old Arabia; who had seemed a fitting figure for + the romances of Bagdad during the Caliphate—Karamaneh, whom I had + thought sincere, whose inscrutable Eastern soul I had presumed, fatuously, + to have laid bare and analyzed. + </p> + <p> + Now, once again she was plying her old trade of go-between; professing to + reveal the secrets of Dr. Fu-Manchu, and all the time—I could not + doubt it—inveigling men into the net of this awful fisher. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday, I had been her dupe; yesterday, I had rejoiced in my captivity. + To-day, I was not the favored one; to-day I had not been selected + recipient of her confidences—confidences sweet, seductive, deadly: + but Abel Slattin, a plausible rogue, who, in justice, should be immured in + Sing Sing, was chosen out, was enslaved by those lovely mysterious eyes, + was taking to his soul the lies which fell from those perfect lips, + triumphant in a conquest that must end in his undoing; deeming, poor fool, + that for love of him this pearl of the Orient was about to betray her + master, to resign herself a prize to the victor! + </p> + <p> + Companioned by these bitter reflections, I had lost the remainder of the + conversation between Nayland Smith and the police officer; now, casting + off the succubus memory which threatened to obsess me, I put forth a giant + mental effort to purge my mind of this uncleanness, and became again an + active participant in the campaign against the Master—the director + of all things noxious. + </p> + <p> + Our plans being evidently complete, Smith seized my arm, and I found + myself again out upon the avenue. He led me across the road and into the + gate of a house almost opposite. From the fact that two upper windows were + illuminated, I adduced that the servants were retiring; the other windows + were in darkness, except for one on the ground floor to the extreme left + of the building, through the lowered venetian blinds whereof streaks of + light shone out. + </p> + <p> + “Slattin’s study!” whispered Smith. “He does not anticipate surveillance, + and you will note that the window is wide open!” + </p> + <p> + With that my friend crossed the strip of lawn, and careless of the fact + that his silhouette must have been visible to any one passing the gate, + climbed carefully up the artificial rockery intervening, and crouched upon + the window-ledge peering into the room. + </p> + <p> + A moment I hesitated, fearful that if I followed, I should stumble or + dislodge some of the larva blocks of which the rockery was composed. + </p> + <p> + Then I heard that which summoned me to the attempt, whatever the cost. + </p> + <p> + Through the open window came the sound of a musical voice—a voice + possessing a haunting accent, possessing a quality which struck upon my + heart and set it quivering as though it were a gong hung in my bosom. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh was speaking. + </p> + <p> + Upon hands and knees, heedless of damage to my garments, I crawled up + beside Smith. One of the laths was slightly displaced and over this my + friend was peering in. Crouching close beside him, I peered in also. + </p> + <p> + I saw the study of a business man, with its files, neatly arranged works + of reference, roll-top desk, and Milner safe. Before the desk, in a + revolving chair, sat Slattin. He sat half turned toward the window, + leaning back and smiling; so that I could note the gold crown which + preserved the lower left molar. In an armchair by the window, close, very + close, and sitting with her back to me, was Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + She, who, in my dreams, I always saw, was ever seeing, in an Eastern + dress, with gold bands about her white ankles, with jewel-laden fingers, + with jewels in her hair, wore now a fashionable costume and a hat that + could only have been produced in Paris. Karamaneh was the one Oriental + woman I had ever known who could wear European clothes; and as I watched + that exquisite profile, I thought that Delilah must have been just such + another as this, that, excepting the Empress Poppaea, history has record + of no woman, who, looking so innocent, was yet so utterly vile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear,” Slattin was saying, and through his monocle ogling his + beautiful visitor, “I shall be ready for you to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + I felt Smith start at the words. + </p> + <p> + “There will be a sufficient number of men?” + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh put the question in a strangely listless way. + </p> + <p> + “My dear little girl,” replied Slattin, rising and standing looking down + at her, with his gold tooth twinkling in the lamplight, “there will be a + whole division, if a whole division is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + He sought to take her white gloved hand, which rested upon the chair arm; + but she evaded the attempt with seeming artlessness, and stood up. Slattin + fixed his bold gaze upon her. + </p> + <p> + “So now, give me my orders,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I am not prepared to do so, yet,” replied the girl, composedly; “but now + that I know you are ready, I can make my plans.” + </p> + <p> + She glided past him to the door, avoiding his outstretched arm with an + artless art which made me writhe; for once I had been the willing victim + of all these wiles. + </p> + <p> + “But—” began Slattin. + </p> + <p> + “I will ring you up in less than half an hour,” said Karamaneh and without + further ceremony, she opened the door. + </p> + <p> + I still had my eyes glued to the aperture in the blind, when Smith began + tugging at my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Down! you fool!” he hissed harshly—“if she sees us, all is lost!” + </p> + <p> + Realizing this, and none too soon, I turned, and rather clumsily followed + my friend. I dislodged a piece of granite in my descent; but, fortunately, + Slattin had gone out into the hall and could not well have heard it. + </p> + <p> + We were crouching around an angle of the house, when a flood of light + poured down the steps, and Karamaneh rapidly descended. I had a glimpse of + a dark-faced man who evidently had opened the door for her, then all my + thoughts were centered upon that graceful figure receding from me in the + direction of the avenue. She wore a loose cloak, and I saw this fluttering + for a moment against the white gate posts; then she was gone. + </p> + <p> + Yet Smith did not move. Detaining me with his hand he crouched there + against a quick-set hedge; until, from a spot lower down the hill, we + heard the start of the cab which had been waiting. Twenty seconds elapsed, + and from some other distant spot a second cab started. + </p> + <p> + “That’s Weymouth!” snapped Smith. “With decent luck, we should know + Fu-Manchu’s hiding-place before Slattin tells us!” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as it happens, he’s apparently playing the game.”—In the + half-light, Smith stared at me significantly—“Which makes it all the + more important,” he concluded, “that we should not rely upon his aid!” + </p> + <p> + Those grim words were prophetic. + </p> + <p> + My companion made no attempt to communicate with the detective (or + detectives) who shared our vigil; we took up a position close under the + lighted study window and waited—waited. + </p> + <p> + Once, a taxi-cab labored hideously up the steep gradient of the avenue ... + It was gone. The lights at the upper windows above us became extinguished. + A policeman tramped past the gateway, casually flashing his lamp in at the + opening. One by one the illuminated windows in other houses visible to us + became dull; then lived again as mirrors for the pallid moon. In the + silence, words spoken within the study were clearly audible; and we heard + someone—presumably the man who had opened the door—inquire if + his services would be wanted again that night. + </p> + <p> + Smith inclined his head and hung over me in a tense attitude, in order to + catch Slattin’s reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Burke,” it came—“I want you to sit up until I return; I shall + be going out shortly.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently the man withdrew at that; for a complete silence followed which + prevailed for fully half an hour. I sought cautiously to move my cramped + limbs, unlike Smith, who seeming to have sinews of piano-wire, crouched + beside me immovable, untiringly. Then loud upon the stillness, broke the + strident note of the telephone bell. + </p> + <p> + I started, nervously, clutching at Smith’s arm. It felt hard as iron to my + grip. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo!” I heard Slattin call—“who is speaking?... Yes, yes! This is + Mr. A. S.... I am to come at once?... I know where—yes I ... you + will meet me there?... Good!—I shall be with you in half an hour.... + Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + Distinctly I heard the creak of the revolving office-chair as Slattin + rose; then Smith had me by the arm, and we were flying swiftly away from + the door to take up our former post around the angle of the building. This + gained: + </p> + <p> + “He’s going to his death!” rapped Smith beside me; “but Carter has a cab + from the Yard waiting in the nearest rank. We shall follow to see where he + goes—for it is possible that Weymouth may have been thrown off the + scent; then, when we are sure of his destination, we can take a hand in + the game! We...” + </p> + <p> + The end of the sentence was lost to me—drowned in such a frightful + wave of sound as I despair to describe. It began with a high, thin scream, + which was choked off staccato fashion; upon it followed a loud and + dreadful cry uttered with all the strength of Slattin’s lungs— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God!” he cried, and again—“Oh, God!” + </p> + <p> + This in turn merged into a sort of hysterical sobbing. + </p> + <p> + I was on my feet now, and automatically making for the door. I had a vague + impression of Nayland Smith’s face beside me, the eyes glassy with a + fearful apprehension. Then the door was flung open, and, in the bright + light of the hall-way, I saw Slattin standing—swaying and seemingly + fighting with the empty air. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? For God’s sake, what has happened!” reached my ears dimly—and + the man Burke showed behind his master. White-faced I saw him to be; for + now Smith and I were racing up the steps. + </p> + <p> + Ere we could reach him, Slattin, uttering another choking cry, pitched + forward and lay half across the threshold. + </p> + <p> + We burst into the hall, where Burke stood with both his hands raised + dazedly to his head. I could hear the sound of running feet upon the + gravel, and knew that Carter was coming to join us. + </p> + <p> + Burke, a heavy man with a lowering, bull-dog type of face, collapsed onto + his knees beside Slattin, and began softly to laugh in little rising + peals. + </p> + <p> + “Drop that!” snapped Smith, and grasping him by the shoulders, he sent him + spinning along the hallway, where he sank upon the bottom step of the + stairs, to sit with his outstretched fingers extended before his face, and + peering at us grotesquely through the crevices. + </p> + <p> + There were rustlings and subdued cries from the upper part of the house. + Carter came in out of the darkness, carefully stepping over the recumbent + figure; and the three of us stood there in the lighted hall looking down + at Slattin. + </p> + <p> + “Help us to move him back,” directed Smith, tensely; “far enough to close + the door.” + </p> + <p> + Between us we accomplished this, and Carter fastened the door. We were + alone with the shadow of Fu-Manchu’s vengeance; for as I knelt beside the + body on the floor, a look and a touch sufficed to tell me that this was + but clay from which the spirit had fled! + </p> + <p> + Smith met my glance as I raised my head, and his teeth came together with + a loud snap; the jaw muscles stood out prominently beneath the dark skin; + and his face was grimly set in that odd, half-despairful expression which + I knew so well but which boded so ill for whomsoever occasioned it. + </p> + <p> + “Dead, Petrie!—already?” + </p> + <p> + “Lightning could have done the work no better. Can I turn him over?” + </p> + <p> + Smith nodded. + </p> + <p> + Together we stooped and rolled the heavy body on its back. A flood of + whispers came sibilantly from the stairway. Smith spun around rapidly, and + glared upon the group of half-dressed servants. + </p> + <p> + “Return to your rooms!” he rapped, imperiously; “let no one come into the + hall without my orders.” + </p> + <p> + The masterful voice had its usual result; there was a hurried retreat to + the upper landing. Burke, shaking like a man with an ague, sat on the + lower step, pathetically drumming his palms upon his uplifted knees. + </p> + <p> + “I warned him, I warned him!” he mumbled monotonously, “I warned him, oh, + I warned him!” + </p> + <p> + “Stand up!” shouted Smith—“stand up and come here!” + </p> + <p> + The man, with his frightened eyes turning to right and left, and seeming + to search for something in the shadows about him, advanced obediently. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a flask?” demanded Smith of Carter. + </p> + <p> + The detective silently administered to Burke a stiff restorative. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued Smith, “you, Petrie, will want to examine him, I + suppose?” He pointed to the body. “And in the meantime I have some + questions to put to you, my man.” + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hand upon Burke’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” Burke broke out, “I was ten yards from him when it happened!” + </p> + <p> + “No one is accusing you,” said Smith, less harshly; “but since you were + the only witness, it is by your aid that we hope to clear the matter up.” + </p> + <p> + Exerting a gigantic effort to regain control of himself, Burke nodded, + watching my friend with a childlike eagerness. During the ensuing + conversation, I examined Slattin for marks of violence; and of what I + found, more anon. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” said Smith, “you say that you warned him. When did + you warn him and of what?” + </p> + <p> + “I warned him, sir, that it would come to this—” + </p> + <p> + “That what would come to this?”’ + </p> + <p> + “His dealings with the Chinaman!” + </p> + <p> + “He had dealings with Chinamen?” + </p> + <p> + “He accidentally met a Chinaman at an East End gaming-house, a man he had + known in Frisco—a man called Singapore Charlie—” + </p> + <p> + “What! Singapore Charlie!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, the same man that had a dope-shop, two years ago, down + Ratcliffe way—” + </p> + <p> + “There was a fire—” + </p> + <p> + “But Singapore Charlie escaped, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And he is one of the gang?” + </p> + <p> + “He is one of what we used to call in New York, the Seven Group.” + </p> + <p> + Smith began to tug at the lobe of his left ear, reflectively, as I saw out + of the corner of my eye. + </p> + <p> + “The Seven Group!” he mused. “That is significant. I always suspected that + Dr. Fu-Manchu and the notorious Seven Group were one and the same. Go on, + Burke.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” the man continued, more calmly, “the lieutenant—” + </p> + <p> + “The lieutenant!” began Smith; then: “Oh! of course; Slattin used to be a + police lieutenant!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, he—Mr. Slattin—had a sort of hold on this + Singapore Charlie, and two years ago, when he first met him, he thought + that with his aid he was going to pull off the biggest thing of his life—” + </p> + <p> + “Forestall me, in fact?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; but you got in first, with the big raid and spoiled it.” + </p> + <p> + Smith nodded grimly, glancing at the Scotland Yard man, who returned his + nod with equal grimness. + </p> + <p> + “A couple of months ago,” resumed Burke, “he met Charlie again down East, + and the Chinaman introduced him to a girl—some sort of an Egyptian + girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” snapped Smith—“I know her.” + </p> + <p> + “He saw her a good many times—and she came here once or twice. She + made out that she and Singapore Charlie were prepared to give away the + boss of the Yellow gang—” + </p> + <p> + “For a price, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Burke; “but I don’t know. I only know that I warned + him.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” muttered Smith. “And now, what took place to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “He had an appointment here with the girl,” began Burke + </p> + <p> + “I know all that,” interrupted Smith. “I merely want to know, what took + place after the telephone call?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he told me to wait up, and I was dozing in the next room to the + study—the dining-room—when the ‘phone bell aroused me. I heard + the lieutenant—Mr. Slattin, coming out, and I ran out too, but only + in time to see him taking his hat from the rack—” + </p> + <p> + “But he wears no hat!” + </p> + <p> + “He never got it off the peg! Just as he reached up to take it, he gave a + most frightful scream, and turned around like lightning as though some one + had attacked him from behind!” + </p> + <p> + “There was no one else in the hall?” + </p> + <p> + “No one at all. I was standing down there outside the dining-room just by + the stairs, but he didn’t turn in my direction, he turned and looked right + behind him—where there was no one—nothing. His cries were + frightful.” Burke’s voice broke, and he shuddered feverishly. “Then he + made a rush for the front door. It seemed as though he had not seen me. He + stood there screaming; but, before I could reach him, he fell....” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith fixed a piercing gaze upon Burke. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all you know?” he demanded slowly. + </p> + <p> + “As God is my judge, sir, that’s all I know, and all I saw. There was no + living thing near him when he met his death.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” muttered Smith. He turned to me—“What killed him?” + he asked, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Apparently, a minute wound on the left wrist,” I replied, and, stooping, + I raised the already cold hand in mine. + </p> + <p> + A tiny, inflamed wound showed on the wrist; and a certain puffiness was + becoming observable in the injured hand and arm. Smith bent down and drew + a quick, sibilant breath. + </p> + <p> + “You know what this is, Petrie?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. It was too late to employ a ligature and useless to inject + ammonia. Death was practically instantaneous. His heart...” + </p> + <p> + There came a loud knocking and ringing. + </p> + <p> + “Carter!” cried Smith, turning to the detective, “open that door to no one—no + one. Explain who I am—” + </p> + <p> + “But if it is the inspector?—” + </p> + <p> + “I said, open the door to no one!” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Burke, stand exactly where you are! Carter, you can speak to whoever + knocks, through the letter-box. Petrie, don’t move for your life! It may + be here, in the hallway!—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE CLIMBER + </h2> + <p> + Our search of the house of Abel Slattin ceased only with the coming of the + dawn, and yielded nothing but disappointment. Failure followed upon + failure; for, in the gray light of the morning, our own quest concluded, + Inspector Weymouth returned to report that the girl, Karamaneh, had thrown + him off the scent. + </p> + <p> + Again he stood before me, the big, burly friend of old and dreadful days, + a little grayer above the temples, which I set down for a record of former + horrors, but deliberate, stoical, thorough, as ever. His blue eyes melted + in the old generous way as he saw me, and he gripped my hand in greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Once again,” he said, “your dark-eyed friend has been too clever for me, + Doctor. But the track as far as I could follow, leads to the old spot. In + fact,”—he turned to Smith, who, grim-faced and haggard, looked + thoroughly ill in that gray light—“I believe Fu-Manchu’s lair is + somewhere near the former opium-den of Shen-Yan—‘Singapore + Charlie.’” + </p> + <p> + Smith nodded. + </p> + <p> + “We will turn our attention in that direction,” he replied, “at a very + early date.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Weymouth looked down at the body of Abel Slattin. + </p> + <p> + “How was it done?” he asked softly. + </p> + <p> + “Clumsily for Fu-Manchu,” I replied. “A snake was introduced into the + house by some means—” + </p> + <p> + “By Karamaneh!” rapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Very possibly by Karamaneh,” I continued firmly. “The thing has escaped + us.” + </p> + <p> + “My own idea,” said Smith, “is that it was concealed about his clothing. + When he fell by the open door it glided out of the house. We must have the + garden searched thoroughly by daylight.” + </p> + <p> + “He”—Weymouth glanced at that which lay upon the floor—“must + be moved; but otherwise we can leave the place untouched, clear out the + servants, and lock the house up.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already given orders to that effect,” answered Smith. He spoke + wearily and with a note of conscious defeat in his voice. “Nothing has + been disturbed;”—he swept his arm around comprehensively—“papers + and so forth you can examine at leisure.” + </p> + <p> + Presently we quitted that house upon which the fateful Chinaman had set + his seal, as the suburb was awakening to a new day. The clank of milk-cans + was my final impression of the avenue to which a dreadful minister of + death had come at the bidding of the death lord. We left Inspector + Weymouth in charge and returned to my rooms, scarcely exchanging a word + upon the way. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith, ignoring my entreaties, composed himself for slumber in the + white cane chair in my study. About noon he retired to the bathroom, and + returning, made a pretense of breakfast; then resumed his seat in the cane + armchair. Carter reported in the afternoon, but his report was merely + formal. Returning from my round of professional visits at half past five, + I found Nayland Smith in the same position; and so the day waned into + evening, and dusk fell uneventfully. + </p> + <p> + In the corner of the big room by the empty fireplace, Nayland Smith lay, + with his long, lean frame extended in the white cane chair. A tumbler, + from which two straws protruded, stood by his right elbow, and a perfect + continent of tobacco smoke lay between us, wafted toward the door by the + draught from an open window. He had littered the hearth with matches and + tobacco ash, being the most untidy smoker I have ever met; and save for + his frequent rapping-out of his pipe bowl and perpetual striking of + matches, he had shown no sign of activity for the past hour. Collarless + and wearing an old tweed jacket, he had spent the evening, as he had spent + the day, in the cane chair, only quitting it for some ten minutes, or + less, to toy with dinner. + </p> + <p> + My several attempts at conversation had elicited nothing but growls; + therefore, as dusk descended, having dismissed my few patients, I busied + myself collating my notes upon the renewed activity of the Yellow Doctor, + and was thus engaged when the ‘phone bell disturbed me. It was Smith who + was wanted, however; and he went out eagerly, leaving me to my task. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a lengthy conversation, he returned from the ‘phone and + began, restlessly, to pace the room. I made a pretense of continuing my + labors, but covertly I was watching him. He was twitching at the lobe of + his left ear, and his face was a study in perplexity. Abruptly he burst + out: + </p> + <p> + “I shall throw the thing up, Petrie! Either I am growing too old to cope + with such an adversary as Fu-Manchu, or else my intellect has become dull. + I cannot seem to think clearly or consistently. For the Doctor, this + crime, this removal of Slattin, is clumsy—unfinished. There are two + explanations. Either he, too, is losing his old cunning or he has been + interrupted!” + </p> + <p> + “Interrupted!” + </p> + <p> + “Take the facts, Petrie,”—Smith clapped his hands upon my table and + bent down, peering into my eyes—“is it characteristic of Fu-Manchu + to kill a man by the direct agency of a snake and to implicate one of his + own damnable servants in this way?” + </p> + <p> + “But we have found no snake!” + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh introduced one in some way. Do you doubt it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly Karamaneh visited him on the evening of his death, but you must + be perfectly well aware that even if she had been arrested, no jury could + convict her.” + </p> + <p> + Smith resumed his restless pacings up and down. + </p> + <p> + “You are very useful to me, Petrie,” he replied; “as a counsel for the + defense you constantly rectify my errors of prejudice. Yet I am convinced + that our presence at Slattin’s house last night prevented Fu-Manchu from + finishing off this little matter as he had designed to do.” + </p> + <p> + “What has given you this idea?” + </p> + <p> + “Weymouth is responsible. He has rung me up from the Yard. The constable + on duty at the house where the murder was committed, reports that some + one, less than an hour ago, attempted to break in.” + </p> + <p> + “Break in!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you are interested? I thought the circumstance illuminating, also!” + </p> + <p> + “Did the officer see this person?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he only heard him. It was some one who endeavored to enter by the + bathroom window, which, I am told, may be reached fairly easily by an + agile climber.” + </p> + <p> + “The attempt did not succeed?” + </p> + <p> + “No; the constable interrupted, but failed to make a capture or even to + secure a glimpse of the man.” + </p> + <p> + We were both silent for some moments; then: + </p> + <p> + “What do you propose to do?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “We must not let Fu-Manchu’s servants know,” replied Smith, “but to-night + I shall conceal myself in Slattin’s house and remain there for a week or a + day—it matters not how long—until that attempt is repeated. + Quite obviously, Petrie, we have overlooked something which implicates the + murderer with the murder! In short, either by accident, by reason of our + superior vigilance, or by the clumsiness of his plans, Fu-Manchu for once + in an otherwise blameless career, has left a clue!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE CLIMBER RETURNS + </h2> + <p> + In utter darkness we groped our way through into the hallway of Slattin’s + house, having entered, stealthily, from the rear; for Smith had selected + the study as a suitable base of operations. We reached it without mishap, + and presently I found myself seated in the very chair which Karamaneh had + occupied; my companion took up a post just within the widely opened door. + </p> + <p> + So we commenced our ghostly business in the house of the murdered man—a + house from which, but a few hours since, his body had been removed. This + was such a vigil as I had endured once before, when, with Nayland Smith + and another, I had waited for the coming of one of Fu-Manchu’s death + agents. + </p> + <p> + Of all the sounds which, one by one, now began to detach themselves from + the silence, there was a particular sound, homely enough at another time, + which spoke to me more dreadfully than the rest. It was the ticking of the + clock upon the mantelpiece; and I thought how this sound must have been + familiar to Abel Slattin, how it must have formed part and parcel of his + life, as it were, and how it went on now—tick-tick-tick-tick—whilst + he, for whom it had ticked, lay unheeding—would never heed it more. + </p> + <p> + As I grew more accustomed to the gloom, I found myself staring at his + office chair; once I found myself expecting Abel Slattin to enter the room + and occupy it. There was a little China Buddha upon the bureau in one + corner, with a gilded cap upon its head, and as some reflection of the + moonlight sought out this little cap, my thoughts grotesquely turned upon + the murdered man’s gold tooth. + </p> + <p> + Vague creakings from within the house, sounds as though of stealthy + footsteps upon the stair, set my nerves tingling; but Nayland Smith gave + no sign, and I knew that my imagination was magnifying these ordinary + night sounds out of all proportion to their actual significance. Leaves + rustled faintly outside the window at my back: I construed their sibilant + whispers into the dreaded name—Fu-Manchu-Fu-Manchu—Fu-Manchu! + </p> + <p> + So wore on the night; and, when the ticking clock hollowly boomed the hour + of one, I almost leaped out of my chair, so highly strung were my nerves, + and so appallingly did the sudden clangor beat upon them. Smith, like a + man of stone, showed no sign. He was capable of so subduing his + constitutionally high-strung temperament, at times, that temporarily he + became immune from human dreads. On such occasions he would be icily cool + amid universal panic; but, his object accomplished, I have seen him in + such a state of collapse, that utter nervous exhaustion is the only term + by which I can describe it. + </p> + <p> + Tick-tick-tick-tick went the clock, and, with my heart still thumping + noisily in my breast, I began to count the tickings; one, two, three, + four, five, and so on to a hundred, and from one hundred to many hundreds. + </p> + <p> + Then, out from the confusion of minor noises, a new, arresting sound + detached itself. I ceased my counting; no longer I noted the tick-tick of + the clock, nor the vague creakings, rustlings and whispers. I saw Smith, + shadowly, raise his hand in warning—in needless warning, for I was + almost holding my breath in an effort of acute listening. + </p> + <p> + From high up in the house this new sound came from above the topmost room, + it seemed, up under the roof; a regular squeaking, oddly familiar, yet + elusive. Upon it followed a very soft and muffled thud; then a metallic + sound as of a rusty hinge in motion; then a new silence, pregnant with a + thousand possibilities more eerie than any clamor. + </p> + <p> + My mind was rapidly at work. Lighting the topmost landing of the house was + a sort of glazed trap, evidently set in the floor of a loft-like place + extending over the entire building. Somewhere in the red-tiled roof above, + there presumably existed a corresponding skylight or lantern. + </p> + <p> + So I argued; and, ere I had come to any proper decision, another sound, + more intimate, came to interrupt me. + </p> + <p> + This time I could be in no doubt; some one was lifting the trap above the + stairhead—slowly, cautiously, and all but silently. Yet to my ears, + attuned to trifling disturbances, the trap creaked and groaned noisily. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith waved to me to take a stand on the other side of the opened + door—behind it, in fact, where I should be concealed from the view + of any one descending the stair. + </p> + <p> + I stood up and crossed the floor to my new post. + </p> + <p> + A dull thud told of the trap fully raised and resting upon some supporting + joist. A faint rustling (of discarded garments, I told myself) spoke to my + newly awakened, acute perceptions, of the visitor preparing to lower + himself to the landing. Followed a groan of woodwork submitted to sudden + strain—and the unmistakable pad of bare feet upon the linoleum of + the top corridor. + </p> + <p> + I knew now that one of Dr. Fu-Manchu’s uncanny servants had gained the + roof of the house by some means, had broken through the skylight and had + descended by means of the trap beneath on to the landing. + </p> + <p> + In such a tensed-up state as I cannot describe, nor, at this hour mentally + reconstruct, I waited for the creaking of the stairs which should tell of + the creature’s descent. + </p> + <p> + I was disappointed. Removed scarce a yard from me as he was, I could hear + Nayland Smith’s soft, staccato breathing; but my eyes were all for the + darkened hallway, for the smudgy outline of the stair-rail with the faint + patterning in the background which, alone, indicated the wall. + </p> + <p> + It was amid an utter silence, unheralded by even so slight a sound as + those which I had acquired the power of detecting—that I saw the + continuity of the smudgy line of stair-rail to be interrupted. + </p> + <p> + A dark patch showed upon it, just within my line of sight, invisible to + Smith on the other side of the doorway, and some ten or twelve stairs up. + </p> + <p> + No sound reached me, but the dark patch vanished and reappeared three feet + lower down. + </p> + <p> + Still I knew that this phantom approach must be unknown to my companion—and + I knew that it was impossible for me to advise him of it unseen by the + dreaded visitor. + </p> + <p> + A third time the dark patch—the hand of one who, ghostly, silent, + was creeping down into the hallway—vanished and reappeared on a + level with my eyes. Then a vague shape became visible; no more than a blur + upon the dim design of the wall-paper... and Nayland Smith got his first + sight of the stranger. + </p> + <p> + The clock on the mantelpiece boomed out the half-hour. + </p> + <p> + At that, such was my state (I blush to relate it) I uttered a faint cry! + </p> + <p> + It ended all secrecy—that hysterical weakness of mine. It might have + frustrated our hopes; that it did not do so was in no measure due to me. + But in a sort of passionate whirl, the ensuing events moved swiftly. + </p> + <p> + Smith hesitated not one instant. With a panther-like leap he hurled + himself into the hall. + </p> + <p> + “The lights, Petrie!” he cried—“the lights! The switch is near the + street-door!” + </p> + <p> + I clenched my fists in a swift effort to regain control of my treacherous + nerves, and, bounding past Smith, and past the foot of the stair, I + reached out my hand to the switch, the situation of which, fortunately, I + knew. + </p> + <p> + Around I came, in response to a shrill cry from behind me—an inhuman + cry, less a cry than the shriek of some enraged animal.... + </p> + <p> + With his left foot upon the first stair, Nayland Smith stood, his lean + body bent perilously backward, his arms rigidly thrust out, and his sinewy + fingers gripping the throat of an almost naked man—a man whose brown + body glistened unctuously, whose shaven head was apish low, whose + bloodshot eyes were the eyes of a mad dog! His teeth, upper and lower, + were bared; they glistened, they gnashed, and a froth was on his lips. + With both his hands, he clutched a heavy stick, and once—twice, he + brought it down upon Nayland Smith’s head! + </p> + <p> + I leaped forward to my friend’s aid; but as though the blows had been + those of a feather, he stood like some figure of archaic statuary, nor for + an instant relaxed the death grip which he had upon his adversary’s + throat. + </p> + <p> + Thrusting my way up the stairs, I wrenched the stick from the hand of the + dacoit—for in this glistening brown man, I recognized one of that + deadly brotherhood who hailed Dr. Fu-Manchu their Lord and Master. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + I cannot dwell upon the end of that encounter; I cannot hope to make + acceptable to my readers an account of how Nayland Smith, glassy-eyed, and + with consciousness ebbing from him instant by instant, stood there, a + realization of Leighton’s “Athlete,” his arms rigid as iron bars even + after Fu-Manchu’s servant hung limply in that frightful grip. + </p> + <p> + In his last moments of consciousness, with the blood from his wounded head + trickling down into his eyes, he pointed to the stick which I had torn + from the grip of the dacoit, and which I still held in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Not Aaron’s rod, Petrie!” he gasped hoarsely—“the rod of Moses!—Slattin’s + stick!” + </p> + <p> + Even in upon my anxiety for my friend, amazement intruded. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I began—and turned to the rack in which Slattin’s favorite + cane at that moment reposed—had reposed at the time of his death. + </p> + <p> + Yes!—there stood Slattin’s cane; we had not moved it; we had + disturbed nothing in that stricken house; there it stood, in company with + an umbrella and a malacca. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at the cane in my hand. Surely there could not be two such in + the world? + </p> + <p> + Smith collapsed on the floor at my feet. + </p> + <p> + “Examine the one in the rack, Petrie,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, + “but do not touch it. It may not be yet....” + </p> + <p> + I propped him up against the foot of the stairs, and as the constable + began knocking violently at the street door, crossed to the rack and + lifted out the replica of the cane which I held in my hand. + </p> + <p> + A faint cry from Smith—and as if it had been a leprous thing, I + dropped the cane instantly. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful God!” I groaned. + </p> + <p> + Although, in every other particular, it corresponded with that which I + held—which I had taken from the dacoit—which he had come to + substitute for the cane now lying upon the floor—in one dreadful + particular it differed. + </p> + <p> + Up to the snake’s head it was an accurate copy; but the head lived! + </p> + <p> + Either from pain, fear or starvation, the thing confined in the hollow + tube of this awful duplicate was become torpid. Otherwise, no power on + earth could have saved me from the fate of Abel Slattin; for the creature + was an Australian death-adder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE WHITE PEACOCK + </h2> + <p> + Nayland Smith wasted no time in pursuing the plan of campaign which he had + mentioned to Inspector Weymouth. Less than forty-eight hours after + quitting the house of the murdered Slattin, I found myself bound along + Whitechapel Road upon strange enough business. + </p> + <p> + A very fine rain was falling, which rendered it difficult to see clearly + from the windows; but the weather apparently had little effect upon the + commercial activities of the district. The cab was threading a hazardous + way through the cosmopolitan throng crowding the street. On either side of + me extended a row of stalls, seemingly established in opposition to the + more legitimate shops upon the inner side of the pavement. + </p> + <p> + Jewish hawkers, many of them in their shirt-sleeves, acclaimed the rarity + of the bargains which they had to offer; and, allowing for the difference + of costume, these tireless Israelites, heedless of climatic conditions, + sweating at their mongery, might well have stood, not in a squalid London + thoroughfare, but in an equally squalid market-street of the Orient. + </p> + <p> + They offered linen and fine raiment; from footgear to hair-oil their wares + ranged. They enlivened their auctioneering with conjuring tricks and witty + stories, selling watches by the aid of legerdemain, and fancy vests by + grace of a seasonable anecdote. + </p> + <p> + Poles, Russians, Serbs, Roumanians, Jews of Hungary, and Italians of + Whitechapel mingled in the throng. Near East and Far East rubbed + shoulders. Pidgin English contested with Yiddish for the ownership of some + tawdry article offered by an auctioneer whose nationality defied + conjecture, save that always some branch of his ancestry had drawn + nourishment from the soil of Eternal Judea. + </p> + <p> + Some wearing mens’ caps, some with shawls thrown over their oily locks, + and some, more true to primitive instincts, defying, bare-headed, the + unkindly elements, bedraggled women—more often than not burdened + with muffled infants—crowded the pavements and the roadway, thronged + about the stalls like white ants about some choicer carrion. + </p> + <p> + And the fine drizzling rain fell upon all alike, pattering upon the hood + of the taxi-cab, trickling down the front windows; glistening upon the + unctuous hair of those in the street who were hatless; dewing the bare + arms of the auctioneers, and dripping, melancholy, from the tarpaulin + coverings of the stalls. Heedless of the rain above and of the mud + beneath, North, South, East, and West mingled their cries, their bids, + their blandishments, their raillery, mingled their persons in that joyless + throng. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes a yellow face showed close to one of the streaming windows; + sometimes a black-eyed, pallid face, but never a face wholly sane and + healthy. This was an underworld where squalor and vice went hand in hand + through the beautiless streets, a melting-pot of the world’s outcasts; + this was the shadowland, which last night had swallowed up Nayland Smith. + </p> + <p> + Ceaselessly I peered to right and left, searching amid that rain-soaked + company for any face known to me. Whom I expected to find there, I know + not, but I should have counted it no matter for surprise had I detected + amid that ungracious ugliness the beautiful face of Karamaneh the Eastern + slave-girl, the leering yellow face of a Burmese dacoit, the gaunt, + bronzed features of Nayland Smith; a hundred times I almost believed that + I had seen the ruddy countenance of Inspector Weymouth, and once (at which + instant my heart seemed to stand still) I suffered from the singular + delusion that the oblique green eyes of Dr. Fu-Manchu peered out from the + shadows between two stalls. + </p> + <p> + It was mere phantasy, of course, the sick imaginings of a mind + overwrought. I had not slept and had scarcely tasted food for more than + thirty hours; for, following up a faint clue supplied by Burke, Slattin’s + man, and, like his master, an ex-officer of New York Police, my friend, + Nayland Smith, on the previous evening had set out in quest of some + obscene den where the man called Shen-Yan—former keeper of an + opium-shop—was now said to be in hiding. + </p> + <p> + Shen-Yan we knew to be a creature of the Chinese doctor, and only a most + urgent call had prevented me from joining Smith upon this promising, + though hazardous expedition. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, Fate willing it so, he had gone without me; and now—although + Inspector Weymouth, assisted by a number of C. I. D. men, was sweeping the + district about me—to the time of my departure nothing whatever had + been heard of Smith. The ordeal of waiting finally had proved too great to + be borne. With no definite idea of what I proposed to do, I had thrown + myself into the search, filled with such dreadful apprehensions as I hope + never again to experience. + </p> + <p> + I did not know the exact situation of the place to which Smith was gone, + for owing to the urgent case which I have mentioned, I had been absent at + the time of his departure; nor could Scotland Yard enlighten me upon this + point. Weymouth was in charge of the case—under Smith’s direction—and + since the inspector had left the Yard, early that morning, he had + disappeared as completely as Smith, no report having been received from + him. + </p> + <p> + As my driver turned into the black mouth of a narrow, ill-lighted street, + and the glare and clamor of the greater thoroughfare died behind me, I + sank into the corner of the cab burdened with such a sense of desolation + as mercifully comes but rarely. + </p> + <p> + We were heading now for that strange settlement off the West India Dock + Road, which, bounded by Limehouse Causeway and Pennyfields, and narrowly + confined within four streets, composes an unique Chinatown, a miniature of + that at Liverpool, and of the greater one in San Francisco. Inspired with + an idea which promised hopefully, I raised the speaking tube. + </p> + <p> + “Take me first to the River Police Station,” I directed; “along Ratcliffe + Highway.” + </p> + <p> + The man turned and nodded comprehendingly, as I could see through the wet + pane. + </p> + <p> + Presently we swerved to the right and into an even narrower street. This + inclined in an easterly direction, and proved to communicate with a wide + thoroughfare along which passed brilliantly lighted electric trams. I had + lost all sense of direction, and when, swinging to the left and to the + right again, I looked through the window and perceived that we were before + the door of the Police Station, I was dully surprised. + </p> + <p> + In quite mechanical fashion I entered the depot. Inspector Ryman, our + associate in one of the darkest episodes of the campaign with the Yellow + Doctor two years before, received me in his office. + </p> + <p> + By a negative shake of the head, he answered my unspoken question. + </p> + <p> + “The ten o’clock boat is lying off the Stone Stairs, Doctor,” he said, + “and co-operating with some of the Scotland Yard men who are dragging that + district—” + </p> + <p> + I shuddered at the word “dragging”; Ryman had not used it literally, but + nevertheless it had conjured up a dread possibility—a possibility in + accordance with the methods of Dr. Fu-Manchu. All within space of an + instant I saw the tide of Limehouse Reach, the Thames lapping about the + green-coated timbers of a dock pier; and rising—falling—sometimes + disclosing to the pallid light a rigid hand, sometimes a horribly bloated + face—I saw the body of Nayland Smith at the mercy of those oily + waters. Ryman continued: + </p> + <p> + “There is a launch out, too, patrolling the riverside from here to + Tilbury. Another lies at the breakwater”—he jerked his thumb over + his shoulder. “Should you care to take a run down and see for yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks,” I replied, shaking my head. “You are doing all that can be + done. Can you give me the address of the place to which Mr. Smith went + last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Ryman; “I thought you knew it. You remember Shen-Yan’s + place—by Limehouse Basin? Well, further east—east of the + Causeway, between Gill Street and Three Colt Street—is a block of + wooden buildings. You recall them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied. “Is the man established there again, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It appears so, but, although you have evidently not been informed of the + fact, Weymouth raided the establishment in the early hours of this + morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately with no result,” continued the inspector. “The notorious + Shen-Yan was missing, and although there is no real doubt that the place + is used as a gaming-house, not a particle of evidence to that effect could + be obtained. Also—there was no sign of Mr. Nayland Smith, and no + sign of the American, Burke, who had led him to the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it certain that they went there?” + </p> + <p> + “Two C. I. D. men who were shadowing, actually saw the pair of them enter. + A signal had been arranged, but it was never given; and at about half past + four, the place was raided.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely some arrests were made?” + </p> + <p> + “But there was no evidence!” cried Ryman. “Every inch of the rat-burrow + was searched. The Chinese gentleman who posed as the proprietor of what he + claimed to be a respectable lodging-house offered every facility to the + police. What could we do?” + </p> + <p> + “I take it that the place is being watched?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Ryman. “Both from the river and from the shore. Oh! they + are not there! God knows where they are, but they are not there!” + </p> + <p> + I stood for a moment in silence, endeavoring to determine my course; then, + telling Ryman that I hoped to see him later, I walked out slowly into the + rain and mist, and nodding to the taxi-driver to proceed to our original + destination, I re-entered the cab. + </p> + <p> + As we moved off, the lights of the River Police depot were swallowed up in + the humid murk, and again I found myself being carried through the + darkness of those narrow streets, which, like a maze, hold secret within + their labyrinth mysteries as great, and at least as foul, as that of + Pasiphae. + </p> + <p> + The marketing centers I had left far behind me; to my right stretched the + broken range of riverside buildings, and beyond them flowed the Thames, a + stream more heavily burdened with secrets than ever was Tiber or Tigris. + On my left, occasional flickering lights broke through the mist, for the + most part the lights of taverns; and saving these rents in the veil, the + darkness was punctuated with nothing but the faint and yellow luminance of + the street lamps. + </p> + <p> + Ahead was a black mouth, which promised to swallow me up as it had + swallowed up my friend. + </p> + <p> + In short, what with my lowered condition and consequent frame of mind, and + what with the traditions, for me inseparable from that gloomy quarter of + London, I was in the grip of a shadowy menace which at any moment might + become tangible—I perceived, in the most commonplace objects, the + yellow hand of Dr. Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + When the cab stopped in a place of utter darkness, I aroused myself with + an effort, opened the door, and stepped out into the mud of a narrow lane. + A high brick wall frowned upon me from one side, and, dimly perceptible, + there towered a smoke stack, beyond. On my right uprose the side of a + wharf building, shadowly, and some distance ahead, almost obscured by the + drizzling rain, a solitary lamp flickered. I turned up the collar of my + raincoat, shivering, as much at the prospect as from physical chill. + </p> + <p> + “You will wait here,” I said to the man; and, feeling in my breast-pocket, + I added: “If you hear the note of a whistle, drive on and rejoin me.” + </p> + <p> + He listened attentively and with a certain eagerness. I had selected him + that night for the reason that he had driven Smith and myself on previous + occasions and had proved himself a man of intelligence. Transferring a + Browning pistol from my hip-pocket to that of my raincoat, I trudged on + into the mist. + </p> + <p> + The headlights of the taxi were swallowed up behind me, and just abreast + of the street lamp I stood listening. + </p> + <p> + Save for the dismal sound of rain, and the trickling of water along the + gutters, all about me was silent. Sometimes this silence would be broken + by the distant, muffled note of a steam siren; and always, forming a sort + of background to the near stillness, was the remote din of riverside + activity. + </p> + <p> + I walked on to the corner just beyond the lamp. This was the street in + which the wooden buildings were situated. I had expected to detect some + evidences of surveillances, but if any were indeed being observed, the + fact was effectively masked. Not a living creature was visible, peer as I + could. + </p> + <p> + Plans, I had none, and perceiving that the street was empty, and that no + lights showed in any of the windows, I passed on, only to find that I had + entered a cul-de-sac. + </p> + <p> + A rickety gate gave access to a descending flight of stone steps, the + bottom invisible in the denser shadows of an archway, beyond which, I + doubted not, lay the river. + </p> + <p> + Still uninspired by any definite design, I tried the gate and found that + it was unlocked. Like some wandering soul, as it has since seemed to me, I + descended. There was a lamp over the archway, but the glass was broken, + and the rain apparently had extinguished the light; as I passed under it, + I could hear the gas whistling from the burner. + </p> + <p> + Continuing my way, I found myself upon a narrow wharf with the Thames + flowing gloomily beneath me. A sort of fog hung over the river, shutting + me in. Then came an incident. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, quite near, there arose a weird and mournful cry—a cry + indescribable, and inexpressibly uncanny! + </p> + <p> + I started back so violently that how I escaped falling into the river I do + not know to this day. That cry, so eerie and so wholly unexpected, had + unnerved me; and realizing the nature of my surroundings, and the folly of + my presence alone in such a place, I began to edge back toward the foot of + the steps, away from the thing that cried; when—a great white shape + uprose like a phantom before me!... + </p> + <p> + There are few men, I suppose, whose lives have been crowded with so many + eerie happenings as mine, but this phantom thing which grew out of the + darkness, which seemed about to envelope me, takes rank in my memory + amongst the most fearsome apparitions which I have witnessed. + </p> + <p> + I knew that I was frozen with a sort of supernatural terror. I stood there + with hands clenched, staring—staring at that white shape, which + seemed to float. + </p> + <p> + As I stared, every nerve in my body thrilling, I distinguished the outline + of the phantom. With a subdued cry, I stepped forward. A new sensation + claimed me. In that one stride I passed from the horrible to the bizarre. + </p> + <p> + I found myself confronted with something tangible, certainly, but + something whose presence in that place was utterly extravagant—could + only be reconcilable in the dreams of an opium slave. + </p> + <p> + Was I awake, was I sane? Awake and sane beyond doubt, but surely moving, + not in the purlieus of Limehouse, but in the fantastic realms of + fairyland. + </p> + <p> + Swooping, with open arms, I rounded up in an angle against the building + and gathered in this screaming thing which had inspired in me so keen a + terror. + </p> + <p> + The great, ghostly fan was closed as I did so, and I stumbled back toward + the stair with my struggling captive tucked under my arm; I mounted into + one of London’s darkest slums, carrying a beautiful white peacock! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. DARK EYES LOOKED INTO MINE + </h2> + <p> + My adventure had done nothing to relieve the feeling of unreality which + held me enthralled. Grasping the struggling bird firmly by the body, and + having the long white tail fluttering a yard or so behind me, I returned + to where the taxi waited. + </p> + <p> + “Open the door!” I said to the man—who greeted me with such a stare + of amazement that I laughed outright, though my mirth was but hollow. + </p> + <p> + He jumped into the road and did as I directed. Making sure that both + windows were closed, I thrust the peacock into the cab and shut the door + upon it. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, sir!” began the driver— + </p> + <p> + “It has probably escaped from some collector’s place on the riverside,” I + explained, “but one never knows. See that it does not escape again, and if + at the end of an hour, as arranged, you do not hear from me, take it back + with you to the River Police Station.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are, sir,” said the man, remounting his seat. “It’s the first + time I ever saw a peacock in Limehouse!” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time I had seen one, and the incident struck me as being + more than odd; it gave me an idea, and a new, faint hope. I returned to + the head of the steps, at the foot of which I had met with this singular + experience, and gazed up at the dark building beneath which they led. + Three windows were visible, but they were broken and neglected. One, + immediately above the arch, had been pasted up with brown paper, and this + was now peeling off in the rain, a little stream of which trickled down + from the detached corner to drop, drearily, upon the stone stairs beneath. + </p> + <p> + Where were the detectives? I could only assume that they had directed + their attention elsewhere, for had the place not been utterly deserted, + surely I had been challenged. + </p> + <p> + In pursuit of my new idea, I again descended the steps. The persuasion + (shortly to be verified) that I was close upon the secret hold of the + Chinaman, grew stronger, unaccountably. I had descended some eight steps, + and was at the darkest part of the archway or tunnel, when confirmation of + my theories came to me. + </p> + <p> + A noose settled accurately upon my shoulders, was snatched tightly about + my throat, and with a feeling of insupportable agony at the base of my + skull, and a sudden supreme knowledge that I was being strangled—hanged—I + lost consciousness! + </p> + <p> + How long I remained unconscious, I was unable to determine at the time, + but I learned later, that it was for no more than half an hour; at any + rate, recovery was slow. + </p> + <p> + The first sensation to return to me was a sort of repetition of the + asphyxia. The blood seemed to be forcing itself into my eyes—I + choked—I felt that my end was come. And, raising my hands to my + throat, I found it to be swollen and inflamed. Then the floor upon which I + lay seemed to be rocking like the deck of a ship, and I glided back again + into a place of darkness and forgetfulness. + </p> + <p> + My second awakening was heralded by a returning sense of smell; for I + became conscious of a faint, exquisite perfume. + </p> + <p> + It brought me to my senses as nothing else could have done, and I sat + upright with a hoarse cry. I could have distinguished that perfume amid a + thousand others, could have marked it apart from the rest in a scent + bazaar. For me it had one meaning, and one meaning only—Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + She was near to me, or had been near to me! + </p> + <p> + And in the first moments of my awakening, I groped about in the darkness + blindly seeking her. + </p> + <p> + Then my swollen throat and throbbing head, together with my utter + inability to move my neck even slightly, reminded me of the facts as they + were. I knew in that bitter moment that Karamaneh was no longer my friend; + but, for all her beauty and charm, was the most heartless, the most + fiendish creature in the service of Dr. Fu-Manchu. I groaned aloud in my + despair and misery. + </p> + <p> + Something stirred, near to me in the room, and set my nerves creeping with + a new apprehension. I became fully alive to the possibilities of the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + To my certain knowledge, Dr. Fu-Manchu at this time had been in England + for fully three months, which meant that by now he must be equipped with + all the instruments of destruction, animate and inanimate, which dread + experience had taught me to associate with him. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I crouched there in that dark apartment listening for a repetition + of the sound, I scarcely dared to conjecture what might have occasioned + it, but my imagination peopled the place with reptiles which writhed upon + the floor, with tarantulas and other deadly insects which crept upon the + walls, which might drop upon me from the ceiling at any moment. + </p> + <p> + Then, since nothing stirred about me, I ventured to move, turning my + shoulders, for I was unable to move my aching head; and I looked in the + direction from which a faint, very faint, light proceeded. + </p> + <p> + A regular tapping sound now began to attract my attention, and, having + turned about, I perceived that behind me was a broken window, in places + patched with brown paper; the corner of one sheet of paper was detached, + and the rain trickled down upon it with a rhythmical sound. + </p> + <p> + In a flash I realized that I lay in the room immediately above the + archway; and listening intently, I perceived above the other faint sounds + of the night, or thought that I perceived, the hissing of the gas from the + extinguished lamp-burner. + </p> + <p> + Unsteadily I rose to my feet, but found myself swaying like a drunken man. + I reached out for support, stumbling in the direction of the wall. My foot + came in contact with something that lay there, and I pitched forward and + fell.... + </p> + <p> + I anticipated a crash which would put an end to my hopes of escape, but my + fall was comparatively noiseless—for I fell upon the body of a man + who lay bound up with rope close against the wall! + </p> + <p> + A moment I stayed as I fell, the chest of my fellow captive rising and + falling beneath me as he breathed. Knowing that my life depended upon + retaining a firm hold upon myself, I succeeded in overcoming the dizziness + and nausea which threatened to drown my senses, and, moving back so that I + knelt upon the floor, I fumbled in my pocket for the electric lamp which I + had placed there. My raincoat had been removed whilst I was unconscious, + and with it my pistol, but the lamp was untouched. + </p> + <p> + I took it out, pressed the button, and directed the ray upon the face of + the man beside me. + </p> + <p> + It was Nayland Smith! + </p> + <p> + Trussed up and fastened to a ring in the wall he lay, having a cork gag + strapped so tightly between his teeth that I wondered how he had escaped + suffocation. + </p> + <p> + But, although a grayish pallor showed through the tan of his skin, his + eyes were feverishly bright, and there, as I knelt beside him, I thanked + heaven, silently but fervently. + </p> + <p> + Then, in furious haste, I set to work to remove the gag. It was most + ingeniously secured by means of leather straps buckled at the back of his + head, but I unfastened these without much difficulty, and he spat out the + gag, uttering an exclamation of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, old man!” he said, huskily. “Thank God that you are alive! I + saw them drag you in, and I thought...” + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking the same about you for more than twenty-four hours,” + I said, reproachfully. “Why did you start without—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not want you to come, Petrie,” he replied. “I had a sort of + premonition. You see it was realized; and instead of being as helpless as + I, Fate has made you the instrument of my release. Quick! You have a + knife? Good!” The old, feverish energy was by no means extinguished in + him. “Cut the ropes about my wrists and ankles, but don’t otherwise + disturb them—” + </p> + <p> + I set to work eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” Smith continued, “put that filthy gag in place again—but you + need not strap it so tightly! Directly they find that you are alive, they + will treat you the same—you understand? She has been here three + times—” + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh?”... + </p> + <p> + “Ssh!” + </p> + <p> + I heard a sound like the opening of a distant door. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! the straps of the gag!” whispered Smith, “and pretend to recover + consciousness just as they enter—” + </p> + <p> + Clumsily I followed his directions, for my fingers were none too steady, + replaced the lamp in my pocket, and threw myself upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + Through half-shut eyes, I saw the door open and obtained a glimpse of a + desolate, empty passage beyond. On the threshold stood Karamaneh. She held + in her hand a common tin oil lamp which smoked and flickered with every + movement, filling the already none too cleanly air with an odor of burning + paraffin. She personified the outre; nothing so incongruous as her + presence in that place could well be imagined. She was dressed as I + remembered once to have seen her two years before, in the gauzy silks of + the harem. There were pearls glittering like great tears amid the cloud of + her wonderful hair. She wore broad gold bangles upon her bare arms, and + her fingers were laden with jewelry. A heavy girdle swung from her hips, + defining the lines of her slim shape, and about one white ankle was a gold + band. + </p> + <p> + As she appeared in the doorway I almost entirely closed my eyes, but my + gaze rested fascinatedly upon the little red slippers which she wore. + </p> + <p> + Again I detected the exquisite, elusive perfume, which, like a breath of + musk, spoke of the Orient; and, as always, it played havoc with my reason, + seeming to intoxicate me as though it were the very essence of her + loveliness. + </p> + <p> + But I had a part to play, and throwing out one clenched hand so that my + fist struck upon the floor, I uttered a loud groan, and made as if to rise + upon my knees. + </p> + <p> + One quick glimpse I had of her wonderful eyes, widely opened and turned + upon me with such an enigmatical expression as set my heart leaping wildly—then, + stepping back, Karamaneh placed the lamp upon the boards of the passage + and clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + As I sank upon the floor in assumed exhaustion, a Chinaman with a + perfectly impassive face, and a Burman, whose pock-marked, evil + countenance was set in an apparently habitual leer, came running into the + room past the girl. + </p> + <p> + With a hand which trembled violently, she held the lamp whilst the two + yellow ruffians tied me. I groaned and struggled feebly, fixing my gaze + upon the lamp-bearer in a silent reproach which was by no means without + its effect. + </p> + <p> + She lowered her eyes, and I could see her biting her lip, whilst the color + gradually faded from her cheeks. Then, glancing up again quickly, and + still meeting that reproachful stare, she turned her head aside + altogether, and rested one hand upon the wall, swaying slightly as she did + so. + </p> + <p> + It was a singular ordeal for more than one of that incongruous group; but + in order that I may not be charged with hypocrisy or with seeking to hide + my own folly, I confess, here, that when again I found myself in darkness, + my heart was leaping not because of the success of my strategy, but + because of the success of that reproachful glance which I had directed + toward the lovely, dark-eyed Karamaneh, toward the faithless, evil + Karamaneh! So much for myself. + </p> + <p> + The door had not been closed ten seconds, ere Smith again was spitting out + the gag, swearing under his breath, and stretching his cramped limbs free + from their binding. Within a minute from the time of my trussing, I was a + free man again; save that look where I would—to right, to left, or + inward, to my own conscience—two dark eyes met mine, enigmatically. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Let me think,” replied Smith. “A false move would destroy us.” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” + </p> + <p> + “Since last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Fu-Manchu—” + </p> + <p> + “Fu-Manchu is here!” replied Smith, grimly—“and not only Fu-Manchu, + but—another.” + </p> + <p> + “Another!” + </p> + <p> + “A higher than Fu-Manchu, apparently. I have an idea of the identity of + this person, but no more than an idea. Something unusual is going on, + Petrie; otherwise I should have been a dead man twenty-four hours ago. + Something even more important than my death engages Fu-Manchu’s attention—and + this can only be the presence of the mysterious visitor. Your seductive + friend, Karamaneh, is arrayed in her very becoming national costume in his + honor, I presume.” He stopped abruptly; then added: “I would give five + hundred pounds for a glimpse of that visitor’s face!” + </p> + <p> + “Is Burke—” + </p> + <p> + “God knows what has become of Burke, Petrie! We were both caught napping + in the establishment of the amiable Shen-Yan, where, amid a very mixed + company of poker players, we were losing our money like gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + “But Weymouth—” + </p> + <p> + “Burke and I had both been neatly sand-bagged, my dear Petrie, and removed + elsewhere, some hours before Weymouth raided the gaming-house. Oh! I don’t + know how they smuggled us away with the police watching the place; but my + presence here is sufficient evidence of the fact. Are you armed?” + </p> + <p> + “No; my pistol was in my raincoat, which is missing.” + </p> + <p> + In the dim light from the broken window, I could see Smith tugging + reflectively at the lobe of his left ear. + </p> + <p> + “I am without arms, too,” he mused. “We might escape from the window—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a long drop!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I imagined so. If only I had a pistol, or a revolver—” + </p> + <p> + “What should you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I should present myself before the important meeting, which, I am + assured, is being held somewhere in this building; and to-night would see + the end of my struggle with the Fu-Manchu group—the end of the whole + Yellow menace! For not only is Fu-Manchu here, Petrie, with all his gang + of assassins, but he whom I believe to be the real head of the group—a + certain mandarin—is here also!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE SACRED ORDER + </h2> + <p> + Smith stepped quietly across the room and tried the door. It proved to be + unlocked, and an instant later, we were both outside in the passage. + Coincident with our arrival there, arose a sudden outcry from some place + at the westward end. A high-pitched, grating voice, in which guttural + notes alternated with a serpent-like hissing, was raised in anger. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Fu-Manchu!” whispered Smith, grasping my arm. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, it was the unmistakable voice of the Chinaman, raised hysterically + in one of those outbursts which in the past I had diagnosed as symptomatic + of dangerous mania. + </p> + <p> + The voice rose to a scream, the scream of some angry animal rather than + anything human. Then, chokingly, it ceased. Another short sharp cry + followed—but not in the voice of Fu-Manchu—a dull groan, and + the sound of a fall. + </p> + <p> + With Smith still grasping my wrist, I shrank back into the doorway, as + something that looked in the darkness like a great ball of fluff came + rapidly along the passage toward me. Just at my feet the thing stopped and + I made it out for a small animal. The tiny, gleaming eyes looked up at me, + and, chattering wickedly, the creature bounded past and was lost from + view. + </p> + <p> + It was Dr. Fu-Manchu’s marmoset. + </p> + <p> + Smith dragged me back into the room which we had just left. As he partly + reclosed the door, I heard the clapping of hands. In a condition of most + dreadful suspense, we waited; until a new, ominous sound proclaimed + itself. Some heavy body was being dragged into the passage. I heard the + opening of a trap. Exclamations in guttural voices told of a heavy task in + progress; there was a great straining and creaking—whereupon the + trap was softly reclosed. + </p> + <p> + Smith bent to my ear. + </p> + <p> + “Fu-Manchu has chastised one of his servants,” he whispered. “There will + be food for the grappling-irons to-night!” + </p> + <p> + I shuddered violently, for, without Smith’s words, I knew that a bloody + deed had been done in that house within a few yards of where we stood. + </p> + <p> + In the new silence, I could hear the drip, drip, drip of the rain outside + the window; then a steam siren hooted dismally upon the river, and I + thought how the screw of that very vessel, even as we listened, might be + tearing the body of Fu-Manchu’s servant! + </p> + <p> + “Have you some one waiting?” whispered Smith, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “How long was I insensible?” + </p> + <p> + “About half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the cabman will be waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you a whistle with you?” + </p> + <p> + I felt in my coat pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I reported. + </p> + <p> + “Good! Then we will take a chance.” + </p> + <p> + Again we slipped out into the passage and began a stealthy progress to the + west. Ten paces amid absolute darkness, and we found ourselves abreast of + a branch corridor. At the further end, through a kind of little window, a + dim light shone. + </p> + <p> + “See if you can find the trap,” whispered Smith; “light your lamp.” + </p> + <p> + I directed the ray of the pocket-lamp upon the floor, and there at my feet + was a square wooden trap. As I stooped to examine it, I glanced back, + painfully, over my shoulder—and saw Nayland Smith tiptoeing away + from me along the passage toward the light! + </p> + <p> + Inwardly I cursed his folly, but the temptation to peep in at that little + window proved too strong for me, as it had proved too strong for him. + </p> + <p> + Fearful that some board would creak beneath my tread, I followed; and side + by side we two crouched, looking into a small rectangular room. It was a + bare and cheerless apartment with unpapered walls and carpetless floor. A + table and a chair constituted the sole furniture. + </p> + <p> + Seated in the chair, with his back toward us, was a portly Chinaman who + wore a yellow, silken robe. His face, it was impossible to see; but he was + beating his fist upon the table, and pouring out a torrent of words in a + thin, piping voice. So much I perceived at a glance; then, into view at + the distant end of the room, paced a tall, high-shouldered figure—a + figure unforgettable, at once imposing and dreadful, stately and sinister. + </p> + <p> + With the long, bony hands behind him, fingers twining and intertwining + serpentinely about the handle of a little fan, and with the pointed chin + resting on the breast of the yellow robe, so that the light from the lamp + swinging in the center of the ceiling gleamed upon the great, dome-like + brow, this tall man paced somberly from left to right. + </p> + <p> + He cast a sidelong, venomous glance at the voluble speaker out of + half-shut eyes; in the act they seemed to light up as with an internal + luminance; momentarily they sparkled like emeralds; then their brilliance + was filmed over as in the eyes of a bird when the membrane is lowered. + </p> + <p> + My blood seemed to chill, and my heart to double its pulsations; beside me + Smith was breathing more rapidly than usual. I knew now the explanation of + the feeling which had claimed me when first I had descended the stone + stairs. I knew what it was that hung like a miasma over that house. It was + the aura, the glamour, which radiated from this wonderful and evil man as + light radiates from radium. It was the vril, the force, of Dr. Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + I began to move away from the window. But Smith held my wrist as in a + vise. He was listening raptly to the torrential speech of the Chinaman who + sat in the chair; and I perceived in his eyes the light of a sudden + comprehension. + </p> + <p> + As the tall figure of the Chinese doctor came pacing into view again, + Smith, his head below the level of the window, pushed me gently along the + passage. + </p> + <p> + Regaining the site of the trap, he whispered to me: “We owe our lives, + Petrie, to the national childishness of the Chinese! A race of ancestor + worshipers is capable of anything, and Dr. Fu-Manchu, the dreadful being + who has rained terror upon Europe stands in imminent peril of disgrace for + having lost a decoration.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that this is no time for delay, Petrie! Here, unless I am greatly + mistaken, lies the rope by means of which you made your entrance. It shall + be the means of your exit. Open the trap!” + </p> + <p> + Handling the lamp to Smith, I stooped and carefully raised the trap-door. + At which moment, a singular and dramatic thing happened. + </p> + <p> + A softly musical voice—the voice of my dreams!—spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Not that way! O God, not that way!” + </p> + <p> + In my surprise and confusion I all but let the trap fall, but I retained + sufficient presence of mind to replace it gently. Standing upright, I + turned... and there, with her little jeweled hand resting upon Smith’s + arm, stood Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + In all my experience of him, I had never seen Nayland Smith so utterly + perplexed. Between anger, distrust and dismay, he wavered; and each + passing emotion was written legibly upon the lean bronzed features. Rigid + with surprise, he stared at the beautiful face of the girl. She, although + her hand still rested upon Smith’s arm, had her dark eyes turned upon me + with that same enigmatical expression. Her lips were slightly parted, and + her breast heaved tumultuously. + </p> + <p> + This ten seconds of silence in which we three stood looking at one another + encompassed the whole gamut of human emotion. The silence was broken by + Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + “They will be coming back that way!” she whispered, bending eagerly toward + me. (How, in the most desperate moments, I loved to listen to that odd, + musical accent!) “Please, if you would save your life, and spare mine, + trust me!”—She suddenly clasped her hands together and looked up + into my face, passionately—“Trust me—just for once—and I + will show you the way!” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith never removed his gaze from her for a moment, nor did he + stir. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she whispered, tremulously, and stamped one little red slipper upon + the floor. “Won’t you heed me? Come, or it will be too late!” + </p> + <p> + I glanced anxiously at my friend; the voice of Dr. Fu-Manchu, now raised + in anger, was audible above the piping tones of the other Chinaman. And as + I caught Smith’s eye, in silent query—the trap at my feet began + slowly to lift! + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh stifled a little sobbing cry; but the warning came too late. A + hideous yellow face with oblique squinting eyes, appeared in the aperture. + </p> + <p> + I found myself inert, useless; I could neither think nor act. Nayland + Smith, however, as if instinctively, delivered a pitiless kick at the head + protruding above the trap. + </p> + <p> + A sickening crushing sound, with a sort of muffled snap, spoke of a broken + jaw-bone; and with no word or cry, the Chinaman fell. As the trap + descended with a bang, I heard the thud of his body on the stone stairs + beneath. + </p> + <p> + But we were lost. Karamaneh fled along one of the passages lightly as a + bird, and disappeared as Dr. Fu-Manchu, his top lip drawn up above his + teeth in the manner of an angry jackal, appeared from the other. + </p> + <p> + “This way!” cried Smith, in a voice that rose almost to a shriek—“this + way!”—and he led toward the room overhanging the steps. + </p> + <p> + Off we dashed with panic swiftness, only to find that this retreat also + was cut off. Dimly visible in the darkness was a group of yellow men, and + despite the gloom, the curved blades of the knives which they carried + glittered menacingly. The passage was full of dacoits! + </p> + <p> + Smith and I turned, together. The trap was raised again, and the Burman, + who had helped to tie me, was just scrambling up beside Dr. Fu-Manchu, who + stood there watching us, a shadowy, sinister figure. + </p> + <p> + “The game’s up, Petrie!” muttered Smith. “It has been a long fight, but + Fu-Manchu wins!” + </p> + <p> + “Not entirely!” I cried. I whipped the police whistle from my pocket, and + raised it to my lips; but brief as the interval had been, the dacoits were + upon me. + </p> + <p> + A sinewy brown arm shot over my shoulder and the whistle was dashed from + my grasp. Then came a whirl of maelstrom fighting with Smith and myself + ever sinking lower amid a whirlpool, as it seemed, of blood-lustful eyes, + yellow fangs, and gleaming blades. + </p> + <p> + I had some vague idea that the rasping voice of Fu-Manchu broke once + through the turmoil, and when, with my wrists tied behind me, I emerged + from the strife to find myself lying beside Smith in the passage, I could + only assume that the Chinaman had ordered his bloody servants to take us + alive; for saving numerous bruises and a few superficial cuts, I was + unwounded. + </p> + <p> + The place was utterly deserted again, and we two panting captives found + ourselves alone with Dr. Fu-Manchu. The scene was unforgettable; that + dimly lighted passage, its extremities masked in shadow, and the tall, + yellow-robed figure of the Satanic Chinaman towering over us where we lay. + </p> + <p> + He had recovered his habitual calm, and as I peered at him through the + gloom I was impressed anew with the tremendous intellectual force of the + man. He had the brow of a genius, the features of a born ruler; and even + in that moment I could find time to search my memory, and to discover that + the face, saving the indescribable evil of its expression, was identical + with that of Seti, the mighty Pharaoh who lies in the Cairo Museum. + </p> + <p> + Down the passage came leaping and gamboling the doctor’s marmoset. + Uttering its shrill, whistling cry, it leaped onto his shoulder, clutched + with its tiny fingers at the scanty, neutral-colored hair upon his crown, + and bent forward, peering grotesquely into that still, dreadful face. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Fu-Manchu stroked the little creature; and crooned to it, as a mother + to her infant. Only this crooning, and the labored breathing of Smith and + myself, broke that impressive stillness. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the guttural voice began: + </p> + <p> + “You come at an opportune time, Mr. Commissioner Nayland Smith, and Dr. + Petrie; at a time when the greatest man in China flatters me with a visit. + In my absence from home, a tremendous honor has been conferred upon me, + and, in the hour of this supreme honor, dishonor and calamity have + befallen! For my services to China—the New China, the China of the + future—I have been admitted by the Sublime Prince to the Sacred + Order of the White Peacock.” + </p> + <p> + Warming to his discourse, he threw wide his arms, hurling the chattering + marmoset fully five yards along the corridor. + </p> + <p> + “O god of Cathay!” he cried, sibilantly, “in what have I sinned that this + catastrophe has been visited upon my head! Learn, my two dear friends, + that the sacred white peacock brought to these misty shores for my undying + glory, has been lost to me! Death is the penalty of such a sacrilege; + death shall be my lot, since death I deserve.” + </p> + <p> + Covertly Smith nudged me with his elbow. I knew what the nudge was + designed to convey; he would remind me of his words—anent the + childish trifles which sway the life of intellectual China. + </p> + <p> + Personally, I was amazed. That Fu-Manchu’s anger, grief, sorrow and + resignation were real, no one watching him, and hearing his voice, could + doubt. + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “By one deed, and one deed alone, may I win a lighter punishment. By one + deed, and the resignation of all my titles, all my lands, and all my + honors, may I merit to be spared to my work—which has only begun.” + </p> + <p> + I knew now that we were lost, indeed; these were confidences which our + graves should hold inviolate! He suddenly opened fully those blazing green + eyes and directed their baneful glare upon Nayland Smith. + </p> + <p> + “The Director of the Universe,” he continued, softly, “has relented toward + me. To-night, you die! To-night, the arch-enemy of our caste shall be no + more. This is my offering—the price of redemption...” + </p> + <p> + My mind was working again, and actively. I managed to grasp the stupendous + truth—and the stupendous possibility. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Fu-Manchu was in the act of clapping his hands, when I spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + He paused, and the weird film, which sometimes became visible in his eyes, + now obscured their greenness, and lent him the appearance of a blind man. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Petrie,” he said, softly, “I shall always listen to you with + respect.” + </p> + <p> + “I have an offer to make,” I continued, seeking to steady my voice. “Give + us our freedom, and I will restore your shattered honor—I will + restore the sacred peacock!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Fu-Manchu bent forward until his face was so close to mine that I + could see the innumerable lines which, an intricate network, covered his + yellow skin. + </p> + <p> + “Speak!” he hissed. “You lift up my heart from a dark pit!” + </p> + <p> + “I can restore your white peacock,” I said; “I and I alone, know where it + is!”—and I strove not to shrink from the face so close to mine. + </p> + <p> + Upright shot the tall figure; high above his head Fu-Manchu threw his arms—and + a light of exaltation gleamed in the now widely opened, catlike eyes. + </p> + <p> + “O god!” he screamed, frenziedly—“O god of the Golden Age! like a + phoenix I arise from the ashes of myself!” He turned to me. “Quick! Quick! + make your bargain! End my suspense!” + </p> + <p> + Smith stared at me like a man dazed; but, ignoring him, I went on: + </p> + <p> + “You will release me, now, immediately. In another ten minutes it will be + too late; my friend will remain. One of your—servants—can + accompany me, and give the signal when I return with the peacock. Mr. + Nayland Smith and yourself, or another, will join me at the corner of the + street where the raid took place last night. We shall then give you ten + minutes grace, after which we shall take whatever steps we choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed!” cried Fu-Manchu. “I ask but one thing from an Englishman; your + word of honor?” + </p> + <p> + “I give it.” + </p> + <p> + “I, also,” said Smith, hoarsely. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Ten minutes later, Nayland Smith and I, standing beside the cab, whose + lights gleamed yellowly through the mist, exchanged a struggling, + frightened bird for our lives—capitulated with the enemy of the + white race. + </p> + <p> + With characteristic audacity—and characteristic trust in the British + sense of honor—Dr. Fu-Manchu came in person with Nayland Smith, in + response to the wailing signal of the dacoit who had accompanied me. No + word was spoken, save that the cabman suppressed a curse of amazement; and + the Chinaman, his sinister servant at his elbow, bowed low—and left + us, surely to the mocking laughter of the gods! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. THE COUGHING HORROR + </h2> + <h3> + I leaped up in bed with a great start. + </h3> + <p> + My sleep was troubled often enough in these days, which immediately + followed our almost miraculous escape, from the den of Fu-Manchu; and now + as I crouched there, nerves aquiver—listening—listening—I + could not be sure if this dank panic which possessed me had its origin in + nightmare or in something else. + </p> + <p> + Surely a scream, a choking cry for help, had reached my ears; but now, + almost holding my breath in that sort of nervous tensity peculiar to one + aroused thus, I listened, and the silence seemed complete. Perhaps I had + been dreaming... + </p> + <p> + “Help! Petrie! Help!...” + </p> + <p> + It was Nayland Smith in the room above me! + </p> + <p> + My doubts were dissolved; this was no trick of an imagination disordered. + Some dreadful menace threatened my friend. Not delaying even to snatch my + dressing-gown, I rushed out on to the landing, up the stairs, bare-footed + as I was, threw open the door of Smith’s room and literally hurled myself + in. + </p> + <p> + Those cries had been the cries of one assailed, had been uttered, I + judged, in the brief interval of a life and death struggle; had been + choked off... + </p> + <p> + A certain amount of moonlight found access to the room, without spreading + so far as the bed in which my friend lay. But at the moment of my headlong + entrance, and before I had switched on the light, my gaze automatically + was directed to the pale moonbeam streaming through the window and down on + to one corner of the sheep-skin rug beside the bed. + </p> + <p> + There came a sound of faint and muffled coughing. + </p> + <p> + What with my recent awakening and the panic at my heart, I could not claim + that my vision was true; but across this moonbeam passed a sort of gray + streak, for all the world as though some long thin shape had been + withdrawn, snakelike, from the room, through the open window... From + somewhere outside the house, and below, I heard the cough again, followed + by a sharp cracking sound like the lashing of a whip. + </p> + <p> + I depressed the switch, flooding the room with light, and as I leaped + forward to the bed a word picture of what I had seen formed in my mind; + and I found that I was thinking of a gray feather boa. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried (my voice seemed to pitch itself, unwilled, in a very + high key), “Smith, old man!” + </p> + <p> + He made no reply, and a sudden, sorrowful fear clutched at my + heart-strings. He was lying half out of bed flat upon his back, his head + at a dreadful angle with his body. As I bent over him and seized him by + the shoulders, I could see the whites of his eyes. His arms hung limply, + and his fingers touched the carpet. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” I whispered—“what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + I heaved him back onto the pillow, and looked anxiously into his face. + Habitually gaunt, the flesh so refined away by the consuming nervous + energy of the man as to reveal the cheekbones in sharp prominence, he now + looked truly ghastly. His skin was so sunbaked as to have changed + constitutionally; nothing could ever eradicate that tan. But to-night a + fearful grayness was mingled with the brown, his lips were purple... and + there were marks of strangulation upon the lean throat—ever + darkening weals made by clutching fingers. + </p> + <p> + He began to breathe stentoriously and convulsively, inhalation being + accompanied by a significant gurgling in the throat. But now my calm was + restored in face of a situation which called for professional attention. + </p> + <p> + I aided my friend’s labored respirations by the usual means, setting to + work vigorously; so that presently he began to clutch at his inflamed + throat which that murderous pressure had threatened to close. + </p> + <p> + I could hear sounds of movement about the house, showing that not I alone + had been awakened by those hoarse screams. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, old man,” I said, bending over him; “brace up!” + </p> + <p> + He opened his eyes—they looked bleared and bloodshot—and gave + me a quick glance of recognition. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, Smith!” I said—“no! don’t sit up; lie there for a + moment.” + </p> + <p> + I ran across to the dressing-table, whereon I perceived his flask to lie, + and mixed him a weak stimulant with which I returned to the bed. + </p> + <p> + As I bent over him again, my housekeeper appeared in the doorway, pale and + wide-eyed. + </p> + <p> + “There is no occasion for alarm,” I said over my shoulder; “Mr. Smith’s + nerves are overwrought and he was awakened by some disturbing dream. You + can return to bed, Mrs. Newsome.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith seemed to experience much difficulty in swallowing the + contents of the tumbler which I held to his lips; and, from the way in + which he fingered the swollen glands, I could see that his throat, which I + had vigorously massaged, was occasioning him great pain. But the danger + was past, and already that glassy look was disappearing from his eyes, nor + did they protrude so unnaturally. + </p> + <p> + “God, Petrie!” he whispered, “that was a near shave! I haven’t the + strength of a kitten!” + </p> + <p> + “The weakness will pass off,” I replied; “there will be no collapse, now. + A little more fresh air...” + </p> + <p> + I stood up, glancing at the windows, then back at Smith, who forced a wry + smile in answer to my look. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t be done, Petrie,” he said, huskily. + </p> + <p> + His words referred to the state of the windows. Although the night was + oppressively hot, these were only opened some four inches at top and + bottom. Further opening was impossible because of iron brackets screwed + firmly into the casements which prevented the windows being raised or + lowered further. + </p> + <p> + It was a precaution adopted after long experience of the servants of Dr. + Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I stood looking from the half-strangled man upon the bed to those + screwed-up windows, the fact came home to my mind that this precaution had + proved futile. I thought of the thing which I had likened to a feather + boa; and I looked at the swollen weals made by clutching fingers upon the + throat of Nayland Smith. + </p> + <p> + The bed stood fully four feet from the nearest window. + </p> + <p> + I suppose the question was written in my face; for, as I turned again to + Smith, who, having struggled upright, was still fingering his injured + throat ruefully: + </p> + <p> + “God only knows, Petrie!” he said; “no human arm could have reached me...” + </p> + <p> + For us, the night was ended so far as sleep was concerned. Arrayed in his + dressing-gown, Smith sat in the white cane chair in my study with a glass + of brandy-and-water beside him, and (despite my official prohibition) with + the cracked briar which had sent up its incense in many strange and dark + places of the East and which yet survived to perfume these prosy rooms in + suburban London, steaming between his teeth. I stood with my elbow resting + upon the mantelpiece looking down at him where he sat. + </p> + <p> + “By God! Petrie,” he said, yet again, with his fingers straying gently + over the surface of his throat, “that was a narrow shave—a damned + narrow shave!” + </p> + <p> + “Narrower than perhaps you appreciate, old man,” I replied. “You were a + most unusual shade of blue when I found you...” + </p> + <p> + “I managed,” said Smith evenly, “to tear those clutching fingers away for + a moment and to give a cry for help. It was only for a moment, though. + Petrie! they were fingers of steel—of steel!” + </p> + <p> + “The bed,” I began... + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” rapped Smith. “I shouldn’t have been sleeping in it, had it + been within reach of the window; but, knowing that the doctor avoids noisy + methods, I had thought myself fairly safe so long as I made it impossible + for any one actually to enter the room...” + </p> + <p> + “I have always insisted, Smith,” I cried, “that there was danger! What of + poisoned darts? What of the damnable reptiles and insects which form part + of the armory of Fu-Manchu?” + </p> + <p> + “Familiarity breeds contempt, I suppose,” he replied. “But as it happened + none of those agents was employed. The very menace that I sought to avoid + reached me somehow. It would almost seem that Dr. Fu-Manchu deliberately + accepted the challenge of those screwed-up windows! Hang it all, Petrie! + one cannot sleep in a room hermetically sealed, in weather like this! It’s + positively Burmese; and although I can stand tropical heat, curiously + enough the heat of London gets me down almost immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “The humidity; that’s easily understood. But you’ll have to put up with it + in the future. After nightfall our windows must be closed entirely, + Smith.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith knocked out his pipe upon the side of the fireplace. The + bowl sizzled furiously, but without delay he stuffed broad-cut mixture + into the hot pipe, dropping a liberal quantity upon the carpet during the + process. He raised his eyes to me, and his face was very grim. + </p> + <p> + “Petrie,” he said, striking a match on the heel of his slipper, “the + resources of Dr. Fu-Manchu are by no means exhausted. Before we quit this + room it is up to us to come to a decision upon a certain point.” He got + his pipe well alight. “What kind of thing, what unnatural, distorted + creature, laid hands upon my throat to-night? I owe my life, primarily, to + you, old man, but, secondarily, to the fact that I was awakened, just + before the attack—by the creature’s coughing—by its vile, + high-pitched coughing...” + </p> + <p> + I glanced around at the books upon my shelves. Often enough, following + some outrage by the brilliant Chinese doctor whose genius was directed to + the discovery of new and unique death agents, we had obtained a clue in + those works of a scientific nature which bulk largely in the library of a + medical man. There are creatures, there are drugs, which, ordinarily + innocuous, may be so employed as to become inimical to human life; and in + the distorting of nature, in the disturbing of balances and the diverting + of beneficent forces into strange and dangerous channels, Dr. Fu-Manchu + excelled. I had known him to enlarge, by artificial culture, a minute + species of fungus so as to render it a powerful agent capable of attacking + man; his knowledge of venomous insects has probably never been paralleled + in the history of the world; whilst, in the sphere of pure toxicology, he + had, and has, no rival; the Borgias were children by comparison. But, look + where I would, think how I might, no adequate explanation of this latest + outrage seemed possible along normal lines. + </p> + <p> + “There’s the clue,” said Nayland Smith, pointing to a little ash-tray upon + the table near by. “Follow it if you can.” + </p> + <p> + But I could not. + </p> + <p> + “As I have explained,” continued my friend, “I was awakened by a sound of + coughing; then came a death grip on my throat, and instinctively my hands + shot out in search of my attacker. I could not reach him; my hands came in + contact with nothing palpable. Therefore I clutched at the fingers which + were dug into my windpipe, and found them to be small—as the marks + show—and hairy. I managed to give that first cry for help, then with + all my strength I tried to unfasten the grip that was throttling the life + out of me. At last I contrived to move one of the hands, and I called out + again, though not so loudly. Then both the hands were back again; I was + weakening; but I clawed like a madman at the thin, hairy arms of the + strangling thing, and with a blood-red mist dancing before my eyes, I + seemed to be whirling madly round and round until all became a blank. + Evidently I used my nails pretty freely—and there’s the trophy.” + </p> + <p> + For the twentieth time, I should think, I carried the ash-tray in my hand + and laid it immediately under the table-lamp in order to examine its + contents. In the little brass bowl lay a blood-stained fragment of grayish + hair attached to a tatter of skin. This fragment of epidermis had an odd + bluish tinge, and the attached hair was much darker at the roots than + elsewhere. Saving its singular color, it might have been torn from the + forearm of a very hirsute human; but although my thoughts wandered + unfettered, north, south, east and west; although, knowing the resources + of Fu-Manchu, I considered all the recognized Mongolian types, and, in + quest of hirsute mankind, even roamed far north among the blubbering + Esquimo; although I glanced at Australasia, at Central Africa, and passed + in mental review the dark places of the Congo, nowhere in the known world, + nowhere in the history of the human species, could I come upon a type of + man answering to the description suggested by our strange clue. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith was watching me curiously as I bent over the little brass + ash-tray. + </p> + <p> + “You are puzzled,” he rapped in his short way. + </p> + <p> + “So am I—utterly puzzled. Fu-Manchu’s gallery of monstrosities + clearly has become reinforced; for even if we identified the type, we + should not be in sight of our explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” I began... + </p> + <p> + “Fully four feet from the window, Petrie, and that window but a few inches + open! Look”—he bent forward, resting his chest against the table, + and stretched out his hand toward me. “You have a rule there; just + measure.” + </p> + <p> + Setting down the ash-tray, I opened out the rule and measured the distance + from the further edge of the table to the tips of Smith’s fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight inches—and I have a long reach!” snapped Smith, + withdrawing his arm and striking a match to relight his pipe. “There’s one + thing, Petrie, often proposed before, which now we must do without delay. + The ivy must be stripped from the walls at the back. It’s a pity, but we + can not afford to sacrifice our lives to our sense of the aesthetic. What + do you make of the sound like the cracking of a whip?” + </p> + <p> + “I make nothing of it, Smith,” I replied, wearily. “It might have been a + thick branch of ivy breaking beneath the weight of a climber.” + </p> + <p> + “Did it sound like it?” + </p> + <p> + “I must confess that the explanation does not convince me, but I have no + better one.” + </p> + <p> + Smith, permitting his pipe to go out, sat staring straight before him, and + tugging at the lobe of his left ear. + </p> + <p> + “The old bewilderment is seizing me,” I continued. “At first, when I + realized that Dr. Fu-Manchu was back in England, when I realized that an + elaborate murder-machine was set up somewhere in London, it seemed unreal, + fantastical. Then I met—Karamaneh! She, whom we thought to be his + victim, showed herself again to be his slave. Now, with Weymouth and + Scotland Yard at work, the old secret evil is established again in our + midst, unaccountably—our lives are menaced—sleep is a danger—every + shadow threatens death... oh! it is awful.” + </p> + <p> + Smith remained silent; he did not seem to have heard my words. I knew + these moods and had learnt that it was useless to seek to interrupt them. + With his brows drawn down, and his deep-set eyes staring into space, he + sat there gripping his cold pipe so tightly that my own jaw muscles ached + sympathetically. No man was better equipped than this gaunt British + Commissioner to stand between society and the menace of the Yellow Doctor; + I respected his meditations, for, unlike my own, they were informed by an + intimate knowledge of the dark and secret things of the East, of that + mysterious East out of which Fu-Manchu came, of that jungle of noxious + things whose miasma had been wafted Westward with the implacable Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + I walked quietly from the room, occupied with my own bitter reflections. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. BEWITCHMENT + </h2> + <p> + “You say you have two items of news for me?” said Nayland Smith, looking + across the breakfast table to where Inspector Weymouth sat sipping coffee. + </p> + <p> + “There are two points—yes,” replied the Scotland Yard man, whilst + Smith paused, egg-spoon in hand, and fixed his keen eyes upon the speaker. + “The first is this: the headquarters of the Yellow group is no longer in + the East End.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you be sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “For two reasons. In the first place, that district must now be too hot to + hold Dr. Fu-Manchu; in the second place, we have just completed a + house-to-house inquiry which has scarcely overlooked a rathole or a rat. + That place where you say Fu-Manchu was visited by some Chinese mandarin; + where you, Mr. Smith,” and—glancing in my direction—“you, + Doctor, were confined for a time—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” snapped Smith, attacking his egg. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued the inspector, “it is all deserted, now. There is not + the slightest doubt that the Chinaman has fled to some other abode. I am + certain of it. My second piece of news will interest you very much, I am + sure. You were taken to the establishment of the Chinaman, Shen-Yan, by a + certain ex-officer of New York Police—Burke...” + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” cried Smith, looking up with a start; “I thought they had + him!” + </p> + <p> + “So did I,” replied Weymouth grimly; “but they haven’t! He got away in the + confusion following the raid, and has been hiding ever since with a + cousin, a nurseryman out Upminster way...” + </p> + <p> + “Hiding?” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly—hiding. He has been afraid to stir ever since, and has + scarcely shown his nose outside the door. He says he is watched night and + day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how...” + </p> + <p> + “He realized that something must be done,” continued the inspector, “and + made a break this morning. He is so convinced of this constant + surveillance that he came away secretly, hidden under the boxes of a + market-wagon. He landed at Covent Garden in the early hours of this + morning and came straight away to the Yard.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he afraid of exactly?” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Weymouth put down his coffee cup and bent forward slightly. + </p> + <p> + “He knows something,” he said in a low voice, “and they are aware that he + knows it!” + </p> + <p> + “And what is this he knows?” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stared eagerly at the detective. + </p> + <p> + “Every man has his price,” replied Weymouth with a smile, “and Burke seems + to think that you are a more likely market than the police authorities.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” snapped Smith. “He wants to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “He wants you to go and see him,” was the reply. “I think he anticipates + that you may make a capture of the person or persons spying upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he give you any particulars?” + </p> + <p> + “Several. He spoke of a sort of gipsy girl with whom he had a short + conversation one day, over the fence which divides his cousin’s flower + plantations from the lane adjoining.” + </p> + <p> + “Gipsy girl!” I whispered, glancing rapidly at Smith. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are right, Doctor,” said Weymouth with his slow smile; “it + was Karamaneh. She asked him the way to somewhere or other and got him to + write it upon a loose page of his notebook, so that she should not forget + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You hear that, Petrie?” rapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “I hear it,” I replied, “but I don’t see any special significance in the + fact.” + </p> + <p> + “I do!” rapped Smith; “I didn’t sit up the greater part of last night + thrashing my weary brains for nothing! But I am going to the British + Museum to-day, to confirm a certain suspicion.” He turned to Weymouth. + “Did Burke go back?” he demanded abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “He returned hidden under the empty boxes,” was the reply. “Oh! you never + saw a man in such a funk in all your life!” + </p> + <p> + “He may have good reasons,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “He has good reasons!” replied Nayland Smith grimly; “if that man really + possesses information inimical to the safety of Fu-Manchu, he can only + escape doom by means of a miracle similar to that which has hitherto + protected you and me.” + </p> + <p> + “Burke insists,” said Weymouth at this point, “that something comes almost + every night after dusk, slinking about the house—it’s an old + farmhouse, I understand; and on two or three occasions he has been + awakened (fortunately for him he is a light sleeper) by sounds of coughing + immediately outside his window. He is a man who sleeps with a pistol under + his pillow, and more than once, on running to the window, he has had a + vague glimpse of some creature leaping down from the tiles of the roof, + which slopes up to his room, into the flower beds below...” + </p> + <p> + “Creature!” said Smith, his gray eyes ablaze now—“you said + creature!” + </p> + <p> + “I used the word deliberately,” replied Weymouth, “because Burke seems to + have the idea that it goes on all fours.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short and rather strained silence. Then: + </p> + <p> + “In descending a sloping roof,” I suggested, “a human being would probably + employ his hands as well as his feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” agreed the inspector. “I am merely reporting the impression of + Burke.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he heard no other sound?” rapped Smith; “one like the cracking of dry + branches, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + “He made no mention of it,” replied Weymouth, staring. + </p> + <p> + “And what is the plan?” + </p> + <p> + “One of his cousin’s vans,” said Weymouth, with his slight smile, “has + remained behind at Covent Garden and will return late this afternoon. I + propose that you and I, Mr. Smith, imitate Burke and ride down to + Upminster under the empty boxes!” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stood up, leaving his breakfast half finished, and began to + wander up and down the room, reflectively tugging at his ear. Then he + began to fumble in the pockets of his dressing-gown and finally produced + the inevitable pipe, dilapidated pouch, and box of safety matches. He + began to load the much-charred agent of reflection. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that Burke is actually too afraid to go out openly even + in daylight?” he asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “He has not hitherto left his cousin’s plantations at all,” replied + Weymouth. “He seems to think that openly to communicate with the + authorities, or with you, would be to seal his death warrant.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s right,” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore he came and returned secretly,” continued the inspector; “and + if we are to do any good, obviously we must adopt similar precautions. The + market wagon, loaded in such a way as to leave ample space in the interior + for us, will be drawn up outside the office of Messrs. Pike and Pike, in + Covent Garden, until about five o’clock this afternoon. At, say, half past + four, I propose that we meet there and embark upon the journey.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker glanced in my direction interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “Include me in the program,” I said. “Will there be room in the wagon?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” was the reply; “it is most commodious, but I cannot guarantee + its comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith promenaded the room, unceasingly, and presently he walked + out altogether, only to return ere the inspector and I had had time to + exchange more than a glance of surprise, carrying a brass ash-tray. He + placed this on a corner of the breakfast table before Weymouth. + </p> + <p> + “Ever seen anything like that?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + The inspector examined the gruesome relic with obvious curiosity, turning + it over with the tip of his little finger and manifesting considerable + repugnance—in touching it at all. Smith and I watched him in + silence, and, finally, placing the tray again upon the table, he looked up + in a puzzled way. + </p> + <p> + “It’s something like the skin of a water rat,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stared at him fixedly. + </p> + <p> + “A water rat? Now that you come to mention it, I perceive a certain + resemblance—yes. But”—he had been wearing a silk scarf about + his throat and now he unwrapped it—“did you ever see a water rat + that could make marks like these?” + </p> + <p> + Weymouth started to his feet with some muttered exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” he cried. “When did it happen, and how?” + </p> + <p> + In his own terse fashion, Nayland Smith related the happenings of the + night. At the conclusion of the story: + </p> + <p> + “By heaven!” whispered Weymouth, “the thing on the roof—the coughing + thing that goes on all fours, seen by Burke...” + </p> + <p> + “My own idea exactly!” cried Smith... + </p> + <p> + “Fu-Manchu,” I said excitedly, “has brought some new, some dreadful + creature, from Burma...” + </p> + <p> + “No, Petrie,” snapped Smith, turning upon me suddenly. “Not from Burma—from + Abyssinia.” + </p> + <p> + That day was destined to be an eventful one; a day never to be forgotten + by any of us concerned in those happenings which I have to record. Early + in the morning Nayland Smith set off for the British Museum to pursue his + mysterious investigations, and having performed my brief professional + round (for, as Nayland Smith had remarked on one occasion, this was a + beastly healthy district), I found, having made the necessary + arrangements, that, with over three hours to spare, I had nothing to + occupy my time until the appointment in Covent Garden Market. My lonely + lunch completed, a restless fit seized me, and I felt unable to remain + longer in the house. Inspired by this restlessness, I attired myself for + the adventure of the evening, not neglecting to place a pistol in my + pocket, and, walking to the neighboring Tube station, I booked to Charing + Cross, and presently found myself rambling aimlessly along the crowded + streets. Led on by what link of memory I know not, I presently drifted + into New Oxford Street, and looked up with a start—to learn that I + stood before the shop of a second-hand book-seller where once two years + before I had met Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + The thoughts conjured up at that moment were almost too bitter to be + borne, and without so much as glancing at the books displayed for sale, I + crossed the roadway, entered Museum Street, and, rather in order to + distract my mind than because I contemplated any purchase, began to + examine the Oriental Pottery, Egyptian statuettes, Indian armor, and other + curios, displayed in the window of an antique dealer. + </p> + <p> + But, strive as I would to concentrate my mind upon the objects in the + window, my memories persistently haunted me, and haunted me to the + exclusion even of the actualities. The crowds thronging the Pavement, the + traffic in New Oxford Street, swept past unheeded; my eyes saw nothing of + pot nor statuette, but only met, in a misty imaginative world, the glance + of two other eyes—the dark and beautiful eyes of Karamaneh. In the + exquisite tinting of a Chinese vase dimly perceptible in the background of + the shop, I perceived only the blushing cheeks of Karamaneh; her face rose + up, a taunting phantom, from out of the darkness between a hideous, gilded + idol and an Indian sandalwood screen. + </p> + <p> + I strove to dispel this obsessing thought, resolutely fixing my attention + upon a tall Etruscan vase in the corner of the window, near to the shop + door. Was I losing my senses indeed? A doubt of my own sanity momentarily + possessed me. For, struggle as I would to dispel the illusion—there, + looking out at me over that ancient piece of pottery, was the bewitching + face of the slave-girl! + </p> + <p> + Probably I was glaring madly, and possibly I attracted the notice of the + passers-by; but of this I cannot be certain, for all my attention was + centered upon that phantasmal face, with the cloudy hair, slightly parted + red lips, and the brilliant dark eyes which looked into mine out of the + shadows of the shop. + </p> + <p> + It was bewildering—it was uncanny; for, delusion or verity, the + glamour prevailed. I exerted a great mental effort, stepped to the door, + turned the handle, and entered the shop with as great a show of composure + as I could muster. + </p> + <p> + A curtain draped in a little door at the back of one counter swayed + slightly, with no greater violence than may have been occasioned by the + draught. But I fixed my eyes upon this swaying curtain almost fiercely... + as an impassive half-caste of some kind who appeared to be a strange cross + between a Graeco-Hebrew and a Japanese, entered and quite unemotionally + faced me, with a slight bow. + </p> + <p> + So wholly unexpected was this apparition that I started back. + </p> + <p> + “Can I show you anything, sir?” inquired the new arrival, with a second + slight inclination of the head. + </p> + <p> + I looked at him for a moment in silence. Then: + </p> + <p> + “I thought I saw a lady of my acquaintance here a moment ago,” I said. + “Was I mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite mistaken, sir,” replied the shopman, raising his black eyebrows + ever so slightly; “a mistake possibly due to a reflection in the window. + Will you take a look around now that you are here?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” I replied, staring him hard in the face; “at some other + time.” + </p> + <p> + I turned and quitted the shop abruptly. Either I was mad, or Karamaneh was + concealed somewhere therein. + </p> + <p> + However, realizing my helplessness in the matter, I contented myself with + making a mental note of the name which appeared above the establishment—J. + Salaman—and walked on, my mind in a chaotic condition and my heart + beating with unusual rapidity. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. THE QUESTING HANDS + </h2> + <p> + Within my view, from the corner of the room where I sat in deepest shadow, + through the partly opened window (it was screwed, like our own) were rows + of glass-houses gleaming in the moonlight, and, beyond them, orderly ranks + of flower-beds extending into a blue haze of distance. By reason of the + moon’s position, no light entered the room, but my eyes, from long + watching, were grown familiar with the darkness, and I could see Burke + quite clearly as he lay in the bed between my post and the window. I + seemed to be back again in those days of the troubled past when first + Nayland Smith and I had come to grips with the servants of Dr. Fu-Manchu. + A more peaceful scene than this flower-planted corner of Essex it would be + difficult to imagine; but, either because of my knowledge that its peace + was chimerical, or because of that outflung consciousness of danger which, + actually, or in my imagination, preceded the coming of the Chinaman’s + agents, to my seeming the silence throbbed electrically and the night was + laden with stilly omens. + </p> + <p> + Already cramped by my journey in the market-cart, I found it difficult to + remain very long in any one position. What information had Burke to sell? + He had refused, for some reason, to discuss the matter that evening, and + now, enacting the part allotted him by Nayland Smith, he feigned sleep + consistently, although at intervals he would whisper to me his doubts and + fears. + </p> + <p> + All the chances were in our favor to-night; for whilst I could not doubt + that Dr. Fu-Manchu was set upon the removal of the ex-officer of New York + police, neither could I doubt that our presence in the farm was unknown to + the agents of the Chinaman. According to Burke, constant attempts had been + made to achieve Fu-Manchu’s purpose, and had only been frustrated by his + (Burke’s) wakefulness. + </p> + <p> + There was every probability that another attempt would be made to-night. + </p> + <p> + Any one who has been forced by circumstance to undertake such a vigil as + this will be familiar with the marked changes (corresponding with phases + of the earth’s movement) which take place in the atmosphere, at midnight, + at two o’clock, and again at four o’clock. During those fours hours falls + a period wherein all life is at its lowest ebb, and every Physician is + aware that there is a greater likelihood of a patient’s passing between + midnight and four A. M., than at any other period during the cycle of the + hours. + </p> + <p> + To-night I became specially aware of this lowering of vitality, and now, + with the night at that darkest phase which precedes the dawn, an + indescribable dread, such as I had known before in my dealings with the + Chinaman, assailed me, when I was least prepared to combat it. The + stillness was intense. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Here it is!” whispered Burke from the bed. + </p> + <p> + The chill at the very center of my being, which but corresponded with the + chill of all surrounding nature at that hour, became intensified, keener, + at the whispered words. + </p> + <p> + I rose stealthily out of my chair, and from my nest of shadows watched—watched + intently, the bright oblong of the window... + </p> + <p> + Without the slightest heralding sound—a black silhouette crept up + against the pane... the silhouette of a small, malformed head, a dog-like + head, deep-set in square shoulders. Malignant eyes peered intently in. + Higher it arose—that wicked head—against the window, then + crouched down on the sill and became less sharply defined as the creature + stooped to the opening below. There was a faint sound of sniffing. + </p> + <p> + Judging from the stark horror which I experienced, myself, I doubted, now, + if Burke could sustain the role allotted him. In beneath the slightly + raised window came a hand, perceptible to me despite the darkness of the + room. It seemed to project from the black silhouette outside the pane, to + be thrust forward—and forward—and forward... that small hand + with the outstretched fingers. + </p> + <p> + The unknown possesses unique terrors; and since I was unable to conceive + what manner of thing this could be, which, extending its incredibly long + arms, now sought the throat of the man upon the bed, I tasted of that sort + of terror which ordinarily one knows only in dreams. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, sir—quick!” screamed Burke, starting up from the pillow. + </p> + <p> + The questing hands had reached his throat! + </p> + <p> + Choking down an urgent dread that I had of touching the thing which + reached through the window to kill the sleeper, I sprang across the room + and grasped the rigid, hairy forearms. + </p> + <p> + Heavens! Never have I felt such muscles, such tendons, as those beneath + the hirsute skin! They seemed to be of steel wire, and with a sudden + frightful sense of impotence, I realized that I was as powerless as a + child to relax that strangle-hold. Burke was making the most frightful + sounds and quite obviously was being asphyxiated before my eyes! + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried, “Smith! Help! help! for God’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + Despite the confusion of my mind I became aware of sounds outside and + below me. Twice the thing at the window coughed; there was an incessant, + lash-like cracking, then some shouted words which I was unable to make + out; and finally the staccato report of a pistol. + </p> + <p> + Snarling like that of a wild beast came from the creature with the hairy + arms, together with renewed coughing. But the steel grip relaxed not one + iota. + </p> + <p> + I realized two things: the first, that in my terror at the suddenness of + the attack I had omitted to act as pre-arranged: the second, that I had + discredited the strength of the visitant, whilst Smith had foreseen it. + </p> + <p> + Desisting in my vain endeavor to pit my strength against that of the + nameless thing, I sprang back across the room and took up the weapon which + had been left in my charge earlier in the night, but which I had been + unable to believe it would be necessary to employ. This was a sharp and + heavy axe, which Nayland Smith, when I had met him in Covent Garden, had + brought with him, to the great amazement of Weymouth and myself. + </p> + <p> + As I leaped back to the window and uplifted this primitive weapon, a + second shot sounded from below, and more fierce snarling, coughing, and + guttural mutterings assailed my ears from beyond the pane. + </p> + <p> + Lifting the heavy blade, I brought it down with all my strength upon the + nearer of those hairy arms where it crossed the window-ledge, severing + muscle, tendon and bone as easily as a knife might cut cheese.... + </p> + <p> + A shriek—a shriek neither human nor animal, but gruesomely + compounded of both—followed... and merged into a choking cough. Like + a flash the other shaggy arm was withdrawn, and some vaguely-seen body + went rolling down the sloping red tiles and crashed on to the ground + beneath. + </p> + <p> + With a second piercing shriek, louder than that recently uttered by Burke, + wailing through the night from somewhere below, I turned desperately to + the man on the bed, who now was become significantly silent. A candle, + with matches, stood upon a table hard by, and, my fingers far from steady, + I set about obtaining a light. This accomplished, I stood the candle upon + the little chest-of-drawers and returned to Burke’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful God!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + Of all the pictures which remain in my memory, some of them dark enough, I + can find none more horrible than that which now confronted me in the dim + candle-light. Burke lay crosswise on the bed, his head thrown back and + sagging; one rigid hand he held in the air, and with the other grasped the + hairy forearm which I had severed with the ax; for, in a death-grip, the + dead fingers were still fastened, vise-like, at his throat. + </p> + <p> + His face was nearly black, and his eyes projected from their sockets + horribly. Mastering my repugnance, I seized the hideous piece of bleeding + anatomy and strove to release it. It defied all my efforts; in death it + was as implacable as in life. I took a knife from my pocket, and, tendon + by tendon, cut away that uncanny grip from Burke’s throat... + </p> + <p> + But my labor was in vain. Burke was dead! + </p> + <p> + I think I failed to realize this for some time. My clothes were sticking + clammily to my body; I was bathed in perspiration, and, shaking furiously, + I clutched at the edge of the window, avoiding the bloody patch upon the + ledge, and looked out over the roofs to where, in the more distant + plantations, I could hear excited voices. What had been the meaning of + that scream which I had heard but to which in my frantic state of mind I + had paid comparatively little attention? + </p> + <p> + There was a great stirring all about me. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I cried from the window; “Smith, for mercy’s sake where are you?” + </p> + <p> + Footsteps came racing up the stairs. Behind me the door burst open and + Nayland Smith stumbled into the room. + </p> + <p> + “God!” he said, and started back in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got it, Smith?” I demanded hoarsely. “In sanity’s name what is + it—what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Come downstairs,” replied Smith quietly, “and see for yourself.” He + turned his head aside from the bed. + </p> + <p> + Very unsteadily I followed him down the stairs and through the rambling + old house out into the stone-paved courtyard. There were figures moving at + the end of a long alleyway between the glass houses, and one, carrying a + lantern, stooped over something which lay upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “That’s Burke’s cousin with the lantern,” whispered Smith in my ear; + “don’t tell him yet.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded, and we hurried up to join the group. I found myself looking down + at one of those thick-set Burmans whom I always associated with + Fu-Manchu’s activities. He lay quite flat, face downward; but the back of + his head was a shapeless blood-dotted mass, and a heavy stock-whip, the + butt end ghastly because of the blood and hair which clung to it, lay + beside him. I started back appalled as Smith caught my arm. + </p> + <p> + “It turned on its keeper!” he hissed in my ear. “I wounded it twice from + below, and you severed one arm; in its insensate fury, its unreasoning + malignity, it returned—and there lies its second victim...” + </p> + <p> + “Then...” + </p> + <p> + “It’s gone, Petrie! It has the strength of four men even now. Look!” + </p> + <p> + He stooped, and from the clenched left hand of the dead Burman, extracted + a piece of paper and opened it. + </p> + <p> + “Hold the lantern a moment,” he said. + </p> + <p> + In the yellow light he glanced at the scrap of paper. + </p> + <p> + “As I expected—a leaf of Burke’s notebook; it worked by scent.” He + turned to me with an odd expression in his gray eyes. “I wonder what piece + of my personal property Fu-Manchu has pilfered,” he said, “in order to + enable it to sleuth me?” + </p> + <p> + He met the gaze of the man holding the lantern. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better return to the house,” he said, looking him + squarely in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + The other’s face blanched. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean, sir—you don’t mean...” + </p> + <p> + “Brace up!” said Smith, laying his hand upon his shoulder. “Remember—he + chose to play with fire!” + </p> + <p> + One wild look the man cast from Smith to me, then went off, staggering, + toward the farm. + </p> + <p> + “Smith,” I began... + </p> + <p> + He turned to me with an impatient gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Weymouth has driven into Upminster,” he snapped; “and the whole district + will be scoured before morning. They probably motored here, but the sounds + of the shots will have enabled whoever was with the car to make good his + escape. And exhausted from loss of blood, its capture is only a matter of + time, Petrie.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. ONE DAY IN RANGOON + </h2> + <p> + Nayland Smith returned from the telephone. Nearly twenty-four hours had + elapsed since the awful death of Burke. + </p> + <p> + “No news, Petrie,” he said, shortly. “It must have crept into some + inaccessible hole to die.” + </p> + <p> + I glanced up from my notes. Smith settled into the white cane armchair, + and began to surround himself with clouds of aromatic smoke. I took up a + half-sheet of foolscap covered with penciled writing in my friend’s + cramped characters, and transcribed the following, in order to complete my + account of the latest Fu-Manchu outrage: + </p> + <p> + “The Amharun, a Semitic tribe allied to the Falashas, who have been + settled for many generations in the southern province of Shoa (Abyssinia) + have been regarded as unclean and outcast, apparently since the days of + Menelek—son of Suleyman and the Queen of Sheba—from whom they + claim descent. Apart from their custom of eating meat cut from living + beasts, they are accursed because of their alleged association with the + Cynocephalus hamadryas (Sacred Baboon). I, myself, was taken to a hut on + the banks of the Hawash and shown a creature... whose predominant trait + was an unreasoning malignity toward... and a ferocious tenderness for the + society of its furry brethren. Its powers of scent were fully equal to + those of a bloodhound, whilst its abnormally long forearms possessed + incredible strength... a Cynocephalyte such as this, contracts phthisis + even in the more northern provinces of Abyssinia...” + </p> + <p> + “You have not explained to me, Smith,” I said, having completed this note, + “how you got in touch with Fu-Manchu; how you learnt that he was not dead, + as we had supposed, but living—active.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stood up and fixed his steely eyes upon me with an + indefinable expression in them. Then: + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied; “I haven’t. Do you wish to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I said with surprise; “is there any reason why I should not?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no real reason,” said Smith; “or”—staring at me very hard—“I + hope there is no real reason.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Well”—he grabbed up his pipe from the table and began furiously to + load it—“I blundered upon the truth one day in Rangoon. I was + walking out of a house which I occupied there for a time, and as I swung + around the corner into the main street, I ran into—literally ran + into...” + </p> + <p> + Again he hesitated oddly; then closed up his pouch and tossed it into the + cane chair. He struck a match. + </p> + <p> + “I ran into Karamaneh,” he continued abruptly, and began to puff away at + his pipe, filling the air with clouds of tobacco smoke. + </p> + <p> + I caught my breath. This was the reason why he had kept me so long in + ignorance of the story. He knew of my hopeless, uncrushable sentiments + toward the gloriously beautiful but utterly hypocritical and evil Eastern + girl who was perhaps the most dangerous of all Dr. Fu-Manchu’s servants; + for the power of her loveliness was magical, as I knew to my cost. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do?” I asked quietly, my fingers drumming upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally enough,” continued Smith, “with a cry of recognition I held out + both my hands to her, gladly. I welcomed her as a dear friend regained; I + thought of the joy with which you would learn that I had found the missing + one; I thought how you would be in Rangoon just as quickly as the fastest + steamer could get you there...” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh started back and treated me to a glance of absolute animosity. + No recognition was there, and no friendliness—only a sort of + scornful anger.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders and began to walk up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what you would have done in the circumstances, Petrie, but + I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “I dealt with the situation rather promptly, I think. I simply picked her + up without another word, right there in the public street, and raced back + into the house, with her kicking and fighting like a little demon! She did + not shriek or do anything of that kind, but fought silently like a vicious + wild animal. Oh! I had some scars, I assure you; but I carried her up into + my office, which fortunately was empty at the time, plumped her down in a + chair, and stood looking at her.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” I said rather hollowly; “what next?” + </p> + <p> + “She glared at me with those wonderful eyes, an expression of implacable + hatred in them! Remembering all that we had done for her; remembering our + former friendship; above all, remembering you—this look of hers + almost made me shiver. She was dressed very smartly in European fashion, + and the whole thing had been so sudden that as I stood looking at her I + half expected to wake up presently and find it all a day-dream. But it was + real—as real as her enmity. I felt the need for reflection, and + having vainly endeavored to draw her into conversation, and elicited no + other answer than this glare of hatred—I left her there, going out + and locking the door behind me.” + </p> + <p> + “Very high-handed?” + </p> + <p> + “A commissioner has certain privileges, Petrie, and any action I might + choose to take was not likely to be questioned. There was only one window + to the office, and it was fully twenty feet above the level; it overlooked + a narrow street off the main thoroughfare (I think I have explained that + the house stood on a corner) so I did not fear her escaping. I had an + important engagement which I had been on my way to fulfil when the + encounter took place, and now, with a word to my native servant—who + chanced to be downstairs—I hurried off.” + </p> + <p> + Smith’s pipe had gone out as usual, and he proceeded to relight it, + whilst, with my eyes lowered, I continued to drum upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “This boy took her some tea later in the afternoon,” he continued, “and + apparently found her in a more placid frame of mind. I returned + immediately after dusk, and he reported that when last he had looked in, + about half an hour earlier, she had been seated in an armchair reading a + newspaper (I may mention that everything of value in the office was + securely locked up!) I was determined upon a certain course by this time, + and I went slowly upstairs, unlocked the door, and walked into the + darkened office. I turned up the light... the place was empty!” + </p> + <p> + “Empty!” + </p> + <p> + “The window was open, and the bird flown! Oh! it was not so simple a + flight—as you would realize if you knew the place. The street, which + the window overlooked, was bounded by a blank wall, on the opposite side, + for thirty or forty yards along; and as we had been having heavy rains, it + was full of glutinous mud. Furthermore, the boy whom I had left in charge + had been sitting in the doorway immediately below the office window + watching for my return ever since his last visit to the room above...” + </p> + <p> + “She must have bribed him,” I said bitterly—“or corrupted him with + her infernal blandishments.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll swear she did not,” rapped Smith decisively. “I know my man, and + I’ll swear she did not. There were no marks in the mud of the road to show + that a ladder had been placed there; moreover, nothing of the kind could + have been attempted whilst the boy was sitting in the doorway; that was + evident. In short, she did not descend into the roadway and did not come + out by the door...” + </p> + <p> + “Was there a gallery outside the window?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it was impossible to climb to right or left of the window or up on to + the roof. I convinced myself of that.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear man!” I cried, “you are eliminating every natural mode of + egress! Nothing remains but flight.” + </p> + <p> + “I am aware, Petrie, that nothing remains but flight; in other words I + have never to this day understood how she quitted the room. I only know + that she did.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw in this incredible escape the cunning hand of Dr. Fu-Manchu—saw + it at once. Peace was ended; and I set to work along certain channels + without delay. In this manner I got on the track at last, and learned, + beyond the possibility of doubt, that the Chinese doctor lived—nay! + was actually on his way to Europe again!” + </p> + <p> + There followed a short silence. Then: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it’s a mystery that will be cleared up some day,” concluded + Smith; “but to date the riddle remains intact.” He glanced at the clock. + “I have an appointment with Weymouth; therefore, leaving you to the task + of solving this problem which thus far has defied my own efforts, I will + get along.” + </p> + <p> + He read a query in my glance. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I shall not be late,” he added; “I think I may venture out alone on + this occasion without personal danger.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith went upstairs to dress, leaving me seated at my writing + table, deep in thought. My notes upon the renewed activity of Dr. + Fu-Manchu were stacked at my left hand, and, opening a new writing block, + I commenced to add to them particulars of this surprising event in Rangoon + which properly marked the opening of the Chinaman’s second campaign. Smith + looked in at the door on his way out, but seeing me thus engaged, did not + disturb me. + </p> + <p> + I think I have made it sufficiently evident in these records that my + practice was not an extensive one, and my hour for receiving patients + arrived and passed with only two professional interruptions. + </p> + <p> + My task concluded, I glanced at the clock, and determined to devote the + remainder of the evening to a little private investigation of my own. From + Nayland Smith I had preserved the matter a secret, largely because I + feared his ridicule; but I had by no means forgotten that I had seen, or + had strongly imagined that I had seen, Karamaneh—that beautiful + anomaly, who (in modern London) asserted herself to be a slave—in + the shop of an antique dealer not a hundred yards from the British Museum! + </p> + <p> + A theory was forming in my brain, which I was burningly anxious to put to + the test. I remembered how, two years before, I had met Karamaneh near to + this same spot; and I had heard Inspector Weymouth assert positively that + Fu-Manchu’s headquarters were no longer in the East End, as of yore. There + seemed to me to be a distinct probability that a suitable center had been + established for his reception in this place, so much less likely to be + suspected by the authorities. Perhaps I attached too great a value to what + may have been a delusion; perhaps my theory rested upon no more solid + foundation than the belief that I had seen Karamaneh in the shop of the + curio dealer. If her appearance there should prove to have been + phantasmal, the structure of my theory would be shattered at its base. + To-night I should test my premises, and upon the result of my + investigations determine my future action. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. THE SILVER BUDDHA + </h2> + <p> + Museum Street certainly did not seem a likely spot for Dr. Fu-Manchu to + establish himself, yet, unless my imagination had strangely deceived me, + from the window of the antique dealer who traded under the name of J. + Salaman, those wonderful eyes of Karamaneh like the velvet midnight of the + Orient, had looked out at me. + </p> + <p> + As I paced slowly along the pavement toward that lighted window, my heart + was beating far from normally, and I cursed the folly which, in spite of + all, refused to die, but lingered on, poisoning my life. Comparative quiet + reigned in Museum Street, at no time a busy thoroughfare, and, excepting + another shop at the Museum end, commercial activities had ceased there. + The door of a block of residential chambers almost immediately opposite to + the shop which was my objective, threw out a beam of light across the + pavement, but not more than two or three people were visible upon either + side of the street. + </p> + <p> + I turned the knob of the door and entered the shop. + </p> + <p> + The same dark and immobile individual whom I had seen before, and whose + nationality defied conjecture, came out from the curtained doorway at the + back to greet me. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, sir,” he said monotonously, with a slight inclination of + the head; “is there anything which you desire to inspect?” + </p> + <p> + “I merely wish to take a look around,” I replied. “I have no particular + item in view.” + </p> + <p> + The shop man inclined his head again, swept a yellow hand comprehensively + about, as if to include the entire stock, and seated himself on a chair + behind the counter. + </p> + <p> + I lighted a cigarette with such an air of nonchalance as I could summon to + the operation, and began casually to inspect the varied objects of + interest loading the shelves and tables about me. I am bound to confess + that I retain no one definite impression of this tour. Vases I handled, + statuettes, Egyptian scarabs, bead necklaces, illuminated missals, + portfolios of old prints, jade ornaments, bronzes, fragments of rare lace, + early printed books, Assyrian tablets, daggers, Roman rings, and a hundred + other curiosities, leisurely, and I trust with apparent interest, yet + without forming the slightest impression respecting any one of them. + </p> + <p> + Probably I employed myself in this way for half an hour or more, and + whilst my hands busied themselves among the stock of J. Salaman, my mind + was occupied entirely elsewhere. Furtively I was studying the shopman + himself, a human presentment of a Chinese idol; I was listening and + watching; especially I was watching the curtained doorway at the back of + the shop. + </p> + <p> + “We close at about this time, sir,” the man interrupted me, speaking in + the emotionless, monotonous voice which I had noted before. + </p> + <p> + I replaced upon the glass counter a little Sekhet boat, carved in wood and + highly colored, and glanced up with a start. Truly my methods were + amateurish; I had learnt nothing; I was unlikely to learn anything. I + wondered how Nayland Smith would have conducted such an inquiry, and I + racked my brains for some means of penetrating into the recesses of the + establishment. Indeed, I had been seeking such a plan for the past half an + hour, but my mind had proved incapable of suggesting one. + </p> + <p> + Why I did not admit failure I cannot imagine, but, instead, I began to tax + my brains anew for some means of gaining further time; and, as I looked + about the place, the shopman very patiently awaiting my departure, I + observed an open case at the back of the counter. The three lower shelves + were empty, but upon the fourth shelf squatted a silver Buddha. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to examine the silver image yonder,” I said; “what price + are you asking for it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not for sale, sir,” replied the man, with a greater show of + animation than he had yet exhibited. + </p> + <p> + “Not for sale!” I said, my eyes ever seeking the curtained doorway; “how’s + that?” + </p> + <p> + “It is sold.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, even so, there can be no objection to my examining it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not for sale, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Such a rebuff from a tradesman would have been more than sufficient to + call for a sharp retort at any other time, but now it excited the + strangest suspicions. The street outside looked comparatively deserted, + and prompted, primarily, by an emotion which I did not pause to analyze, I + adopted a singular measure; without doubt I relied upon the unusual powers + vested in Nayland Smith to absolve me in the event of error. I made as if + to go out into the street, then turned, leaped past the shopman, ran + behind the counter, and grasped at the silver Buddha! + </p> + <p> + That I was likely to be arrested for attempted larceny I cared not; the + idea that Karamaneh was concealed somewhere in the building ruled + absolutely, and a theory respecting this silver image had taken possession + of my mind. Exactly what I expected to happen at that moment I cannot say, + but what actually happened was far more startling than anything I could + have imagined. + </p> + <p> + At the instant that I grasped the figure I realized that it was attached + to the woodwork; in the next I knew that it was a handle ... as I tried to + pull it toward me I became aware that this handle was the handle of a + door. For that door swung open before me, and I found myself at the foot + of a flight of heavily carpeted stairs. + </p> + <p> + Anxious as I had been to proceed a moment before, I was now trebly anxious + to retire, and for this reason: on the bottom step of the stair, facing + me, stood Dr. Fu-Manchu! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. DR. FU-MANCHU’S LABORATORY + </h2> + <p> + I cannot conceive that any ordinary mortal ever attained to anything like + an intimacy with Dr. Fu-Manchu; I cannot believe that any man could ever + grow used to his presence, could ever cease to fear him. I suppose I had + set eyes upon Fu-Manchu some five or six times prior to this occasion, and + now he was dressed in the manner which I always associated with him, + probably because it was thus I first saw him. He wore a plain yellow robe, + and, with his pointed chin resting upon his bosom, he looked down at me, + revealing a great expanse of the marvelous brow with its sparse, + neutral-colored hair. + </p> + <p> + Never in my experience have I known such force to dwell in the glance of + any human eye as dwelt in that of this uncanny being. His singular + affliction (if affliction it were), the film or slight membrane which + sometimes obscured the oblique eyes, was particularly evident at the + moment that I crossed the threshold, but now, as I looked up at Dr. + Fu-Manchu, it lifted—revealing the eyes in all their emerald + greenness. + </p> + <p> + The idea of physical attack upon this incredible being seemed childish—inadequate. + But, following that first instant of stupefaction, I forced myself to + advance upon him. + </p> + <p> + A dull, crushing blow descended on the top of my skull, and I became + oblivious of all things. + </p> + <p> + My return to consciousness was accompanied by tremendous pains in my head, + whereby, from previous experience, I knew that a sandbag had been used + against me by some one in the shop, presumably by the immobile shopman. + This awakening was accompanied by none of those hazy doubts respecting + previous events and present surroundings which are the usual symptoms of + revival from sudden unconsciousness; even before I opened my eyes, before + I had more than a partial command of my senses, I knew that, with my + wrists handcuffed behind me, I lay in a room which was also occupied by + Dr. Fu-Manchu. This absolute certainty of the Chinaman’s presence was + evidenced, not by my senses, but only by an inner consciousness, and the + same that always awoke into life at the approach not only of Fu-Manchu in + person but of certain of his uncanny servants. + </p> + <p> + A faint perfume hung in the air about me; I do not mean that of any + essence or of any incense, but rather the smell which is suffused by + Oriental furniture, by Oriental draperies; the indefinable but + unmistakable perfume of the East. + </p> + <p> + Thus, London has a distinct smell of its own, and so has Paris, whilst the + difference between Marseilles and Suez, for instance, is even more marked. + </p> + <p> + Now, the atmosphere surrounding me was Eastern, but not of the East that I + knew; rather it was Far Eastern. Perhaps I do not make myself very clear, + but to me there was a mysterious significance in that perfumed atmosphere. + I opened my eyes. + </p> + <p> + I lay upon a long low settee, in a fairly large room which was furnished + as I had anticipated in an absolutely Oriental fashion. The two windows + were so screened as to have lost, from the interior point of view, all + resemblance to European windows, and the whole structure of the room had + been altered in conformity, bearing out my idea that the place had been + prepared for Fu-Manchu’s reception some time before his actual return. I + doubt if, East or West, a duplicate of that singular apartment could be + found. + </p> + <p> + The end in which I lay, was, as I have said, typical of an Eastern house, + and a large, ornate lantern hung from the ceiling almost directly above + me. The further end of the room was occupied by tall cases, some of them + containing books, but the majority filled with scientific paraphernalia; + rows of flasks and jars, frames of test-tubes, retorts, scales, and other + objects of the laboratory. At a large and very finely carved table sat Dr. + Fu-Manchu, a yellow and faded volume open before him, and some dark red + fluid, almost like blood, bubbling in a test-tube which he held over the + flame of a Bunsen-burner. + </p> + <p> + The enormously long nail of his right index finger rested upon the opened + page of the book to which he seemed constantly to refer, dividing his + attention between the volume, the contents of the test-tube, and the + progress of a second experiment, or possibly a part of the same, which was + taking place upon another corner of the littered table. + </p> + <p> + A huge glass retort (the bulb was fully two feet in diameter), fitted with + a Liebig’s Condenser, rested in a metal frame, and within the bulb, + floating in an oily substance, was a fungus some six inches high, shaped + like a toadstool, but of a brilliant and venomous orange color. Three flat + tubes of light were so arranged as to cast violet rays upward into the + retort, and the receiver, wherein condensed the product of this strange + experiment, contained some drops of a red fluid which may have been + identical with that boiling in the test-tube. + </p> + <p> + These things I perceived at a glance: then the filmy eyes of Dr. Fu-Manchu + were raised from the book, turned in my direction, and all else was + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “I regret,” came the sibilant voice, “that unpleasant measures were + necessary, but hesitation would have been fatal. I trust, Dr. Petrie, that + you suffer no inconvenience?” + </p> + <p> + To this speech no reply was possible, and I attempted none. + </p> + <p> + “You have long been aware of my esteem for your acquirements,” continued + the Chinaman, his voice occasionally touching deep guttural notes, “and + you will appreciate the pleasure which this visit affords me. I kneel at + the feet of my silver Buddha. I look to you, when you shall have overcome + your prejudices—due to ignorance of my true motives—to assist + me in establishing that intellectual control which is destined to be the + new World Force. I bear you no malice for your ancient enmity, and even + now”—he waved one yellow hand toward the retort—“I am + conducting an experiment designed to convert you from your + misunderstanding, and to adjust your perspective.” + </p> + <p> + Quite unemotionally he spoke, then turned again to his book, his test-tube + and retort, in the most matter-of-fact way imaginable. I do not think the + most frenzied outburst on his part, the most fiendish threats, could have + produced such effect upon me as those cold and carefully calculated words, + spoken in that unique voice which rang about the room sibilantly. In its + tones, in the glance of the green eyes, in the very pose of the gaunt, + high-shouldered body, there was power—force. + </p> + <p> + I counted myself lost, and in view of the doctor’s words, studied the + progress of the experiment with frightful interest. But a few moments + sufficed in which to realize that, for all my training, I knew as little + of chemistry—of chemistry as understood by this man’s genius—as + a junior student in surgery knows of trephining. The process in operation + was a complete mystery to me; the means and the end alike + incomprehensible. + </p> + <p> + Thus, in the heavy silence of that room, a silence only broken by the + regular bubbling from the test tube, I found my attention straying from + the table to the other objects surrounding it; and at one of them my gaze + stopped and remained chained with horror. + </p> + <p> + It was a glass jar, some five feet in height and filled with viscous fluid + of a light amber color. Out from this peered a hideous, dog-like face, low + browed, with pointed ears and a nose almost hoggishly flat. By the + death-grin of the face the gleaming fangs were revealed; and the body, the + long yellow-gray body, rested, or seemed to rest, upon short, malformed + legs, whilst one long limp arm, the right, hung down straightly in the + preservative. The left arm had been severed above the elbow. + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu, finding his experiment to be proceeding favorably, lifted his + eyes to me again. + </p> + <p> + “You are interested in my poor Cynocephalyte?” he said; and his eyes were + filmed like the eyes of one afflicted with cataract. “He was a devoted + servant, Dr. Petrie, but the lower influences in his genealogy, sometimes + conquered. Then he got out of hand; and at last he was so ungrateful + toward those who had educated him, that, in one of those paroxysms of his, + he attacked and killed a most faithful Burman, one of my oldest + followers.” + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu returned to his experiment. + </p> + <p> + Not the slightest emotion had he exhibited thus far, but had chatted with + me as any other scientist might chat with a friend who casually visits his + laboratory. The horror of the thing was playing havoc with my own + composure, however. There I lay, fettered, in the same room with this man + whose existence was a menace to the entire white race, whilst placidly he + pursued an experiment designed, if his own words were believable, to cut + me off from my kind—to wreak some change, psychological or + physiological I knew not; to place me, it might be, upon a level with such + brute-things as that which now hung, half floating, in the glass jar! + </p> + <p> + Something I knew of the history of that ghastly specimen, that thing + neither man nor ape; for within my own knowledge had it not attempted the + life of Nayland Smith, and was it not I who, with an ax, had maimed it in + the instant of one of its last slayings? + </p> + <p> + Of these things Dr. Fu-Manchu was well aware, so that his placid speech + was doubly, trebly horrible to my ears. I sought, furtively, to move my + arms, only to realize that, as I had anticipated, the handcuffs were + chained to a ring in the wall behind me. The establishments of Dr. + Fu-Manchu were always well provided with such contrivances as these. + </p> + <p> + I uttered a short, harsh laugh. Fu-Manchu stood up slowly from the table, + and, placing the test-tube in a rack, stood the latter carefully upon a + shelf at his side. + </p> + <p> + “I am happy to find you in such good humor,” he said softly. “Other + affairs call me; and, in my absence, that profound knowledge of chemistry, + of which I have had evidence in the past, will enable you to follow with + intelligent interest the action of these violet rays upon this + exceptionally fine specimen of Siberian amanita muscaria. At some future + time, possibly when you are my guest in China—which country I am now + making arrangements for you to visit—I shall discuss with you some + lesser-known properties of this species; and I may say that one of your + first tasks when you commence your duties as assistant in my laboratory in + Kiang-su, will be to conduct a series of twelve experiments, which I have + outlined, into other potentialities of this unique fungus.” + </p> + <p> + He walked quietly to a curtained doorway, with his cat-like yet awkward + gait, lifted the drapery, and, with a slight nod in my direction, went out + of the room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. THE CROSS BAR + </h2> + <p> + How long I lay there alone I had no means of computing. My mind was busy + with many matters, but principally concerned with my fate in the immediate + future. That Dr. Fu-Manchu entertained for me a singular kind of regard, I + had had evidence before. He had formed the erroneous opinion that I was an + advanced scientist who could be of use to him in his experiments and I was + aware that he cherished a project of transporting me to some place in + China where his principal laboratory was situated. Respecting the means + which he proposed to employ, I was unlikely to forget that this man, who + had penetrated further along certain byways of science than seemed humanly + possible, undoubtedly was master of a process for producing artificial + catalepsy. It was my lot, then, to be packed in a chest (to all intents + and purposes a dead man for the time being) and despatched to the interior + of China! + </p> + <p> + What a fool I had been. To think that I had learned nothing from my long + and dreadful experience of the methods of Dr. Fu-Manchu; to think that I + had come alone in quest of him; that, leaving no trace behind me, I had + deliberately penetrated to his secret abode! + </p> + <p> + I have said that my wrists were manacled behind me, the manacles being + attached to a chain fastened in the wall. I now contrived, with extreme + difficulty, to reverse the position of my hands; that is to say, I climbed + backward through the loop formed by my fettered arms, so that instead of + their being locked behind me, they now were locked in front. + </p> + <p> + Then I began to examine the fetters, learning, as I had anticipated, that + they fastened with a lock. I sat gazing at the steel bracelets in the + light of the lamp which swung over my head, and it became apparent to me + that I had gained little by my contortion. + </p> + <p> + A slight noise disturbed these unpleasant reveries. It was nothing less + than the rattling of keys! + </p> + <p> + For a moment I wondered if I had heard aright, or if the sound portended + the coming of some servant of the doctor, who was locking up the + establishment for the night. The jangling sound was repeated, and in such + a way that I could not suppose it to be accidental. Some one was + deliberately rattling a small bunch of keys in an adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + And now my heart leaped wildly—then seemed to stand still. + </p> + <p> + With a low whistling cry a little gray shape shot through the doorway by + which Fu-Manchu had retired, and rolled, like a ball of fluff blown by the + wind, completely under the table which bore the weird scientific + appliances of the Chinaman; the advent of the gray object was accompanied + by a further rattling of keys. + </p> + <p> + My fear left me, and a mighty anxiety took its place. This creature which + now crouched chattering at me from beneath the big table was Fu-Manchu’s + marmoset, and in the intervals of its chattering and grimacing, it + nibbled, speculatively, at the keys upon the ring which it clutched in its + tiny hands. Key after key it sampled in this manner, evincing a growing + dissatisfaction with the uncrackable nature of its find. + </p> + <p> + One of those keys might be that of the handcuffs! + </p> + <p> + I could not believe that the tortures of Tantulus were greater than were + mine at this moment. In all my hopes of rescue or release, I had included + nothing so strange, so improbable as this. A sort of awe possessed me; for + if by this means the key which should release me should come into my + possession, how, ever again, could I doubt a beneficent Providence? + </p> + <p> + But they were not yet in my possession; moreover, the key of the handcuffs + might not be amongst the bunch. + </p> + <p> + Were there no means whereby I could induce the marmoset to approach me? + </p> + <p> + Whilst I racked my brains for some scheme, the little animal took the + matter out of my hands. Tossing the ring with its jangling contents a yard + or so across the carpet in my direction, it leaped in pursuit, picked up + the ring, whirled it over its head, and then threw a complete somersault + around it. Now it snatched up the keys again, and holding them close to + its ear, rattled them furiously. Finally, with an incredible spring, it + leaped onto the chain supporting the lamp above my head, and with the + garish shade swinging and spinning wildly, clung there looking down at me + like an acrobat on a trapeze. The tiny, bluish face, completely framed in + grotesque whiskers, enhanced the illusion of an acrobatic comedian. Never + for a moment did it release its hold upon the key-ring. + </p> + <p> + My suspense now was intolerable. I feared to move, lest, alarming the + marmoset, it should run off again, taking the keys with it. So as I lay + there, looking up at the little creature swinging above me, the second + wonder of the night came to pass. + </p> + <p> + A voice that I could never forget, strive how I would, a voice that + haunted my dreams by night, and for which by day I was ever listening, + cried out from some adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “Ta’ala hina!” it called. “Ta’ala hina, Peko!” + </p> + <p> + It was Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + The effect upon the marmoset was instantaneous. Down came the bunch of + keys upon one side of the shade, almost falling on my head, and down + leaped the ape upon the other. In two leaps it had traversed the room and + had vanished through the curtained doorway. + </p> + <p> + If ever I had need of coolness it was now; the slightest mistake would be + fatal. The keys had slipped from the mattress of the divan, and now lay + just beyond reach of my fingers. Rapidly I changed my position, and + sought, without undue noise, to move the keys with my foot. + </p> + <p> + I had actually succeeded in sliding them back on to the mattress, when, + unheralded by any audible footstep, Karamaneh came through the doorway, + holding the marmoset in her arms. She wore a dress of fragile muslin + material, and out from its folds protruded one silk-stockinged foot, + resting in a high-heeled red shoe.... + </p> + <p> + For a moment she stood watching me, with a sort of enforced composure; + then her glance strayed to the keys lying upon the floor. Slowly, and with + her eyes fixed again upon my face, she crossed the room, stooped, and took + up the key-ring. + </p> + <p> + It was one of the poignant moments of my life; for by that simple act all + my hopes had been shattered! + </p> + <p> + Any poor lingering doubt that I may have had, left me now. Had the + slightest spark of friendship animated the bosom of Karamaneh most + certainly she would have overlooked the presence of the keys—of the + keys which represented my one hope of escape from the clutches of the + fiendish Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + There is a silence more eloquent than words. For half a minute or more, + Karamaneh stood watching me—forcing herself to watch me—and I + looked up at her with a concentrated gaze in which rage and reproach must + have been strangely mingled. What eyes she had!—of that blackly + lustrous sort nearly always associated with unusually dark complexions; + but Karamaneh’s complexion was peachlike, or rather of an exquisite and + delicate fairness which reminded me of the petal of a rose. By some I had + been accused of raving about this girl’s beauty, but only by those who had + not met her; for indeed she was astonishingly lovely. + </p> + <p> + At last her eyes fell, the long lashes drooped upon her cheeks. She turned + and walked slowly to the chair in which Fu-Manchu had sat. Placing the + keys upon the table amid the scientific litter, she rested one dimpled + elbow upon the yellow page of the book, and with her chin in her palm, + again directed upon me that enigmatical gaze. + </p> + <p> + I dared not think of the past, of the past in which this beautiful, + treacherous girl had played a part; yet, watching her, I could not + believe, even now, that she was false! My state was truly a pitiable one; + I could have cried out in sheer anguish. With her long lashes partly + lowered, she watched me awhile, then spoke; and her voice was music which + seemed to mock me; every inflection of that elusive accent reopened, + lancet-like, the ancient wound. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you look at me so?” she said, almost in a whisper. “By what right + do you reproach me?—Have you ever offered me friendship, that I + should repay you with friendship? When first you came to the house where I + was, by the river—came to save some one from” (there was the + familiar hesitation which always preceded the name of Fu-Manchu) “from—him, + you treated me as your enemy, although—I would have been your + friend...” + </p> + <p> + There was appeal in the soft voice, but I laughed mockingly, and threw + myself back upon the divan. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh stretched out her hands toward me, and I shall never forget the + expression which flashed into those glorious eyes; but, seeing me + intolerant of her appeal, she drew back and quickly turned her head aside. + Even in this hour of extremity, of impotent wrath, I could find no + contempt in my heart for her feeble hypocrisy; with all the old wonder I + watched that exquisite profile, and Karamaneh’s very deceitfulness was a + salve—for had she not cared she would not have attempted it! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she stood up, taking the keys in her hands, and approached me. + </p> + <p> + “Not by word, nor by look,” she said, quietly, “have you asked for my + friendship, but because I cannot bear you to think of me as you do, I will + prove that I am not the hypocrite and the liar you think me. You will not + trust me, but I will trust you.” + </p> + <p> + I looked up into her eyes, and knew a pagan joy when they faltered before + my searching gaze. She threw herself upon her knees beside me, and the + faint exquisite perfume inseparable from my memories of her, became + perceptible, and seemed as of old to intoxicate me. The lock clicked... + and I was free. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh rose swiftly to her feet as I stood upright and outstretched my + cramped arms. For one delirious moment her bewitching face was close to + mine, and the dictates of madness almost ruled; but I clenched my teeth + and turned sharply aside. I could not trust myself to speak. + </p> + <p> + With Fu-Manchu’s marmoset again gamboling before us, she walked through + the curtained doorway into the room beyond. It was in darkness, but I + could see the slave-girl in front of me, a slim silhouette, as she walked + to a screened window, and, opening the screen in the manner of a folding + door, also threw up the window. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + I crept forward and stood beside her. I found myself looking down into + Museum Street from a first-floor window! Belated traffic still passed + along New Oxford Street on the left, but not a solitary figure was visible + to the right, as far as I could see, and that was nearly to the railings + of the Museum. Immediately opposite, in one of the flats which I had + noticed earlier in the evening, another window was opened. I turned, and + in the reflected light saw that Karamaneh held a cord in her hand. Our + eyes met in the semi-darkness. + </p> + <p> + She began to haul the cord into the window, and, looking upward, I + perceived that it was looped in some way over the telegraph cables which + crossed the street at that point. It was a slender cord, and it appeared + to be passed across a joint in the cables almost immediately above the + center of the roadway. As it was hauled in, a second and stronger line + attached to it was pulled, in turn, over the cables, and thence in by the + window. Karamaneh twisted a length of it around a metal bracket fastened + in the wall, and placed a light wooden crossbar in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Make sure that there is no one in the street,” she said, craning out and + looking to right and left, “then swing across. The length of the rope is + just sufficient to enable you to swing through the open window opposite, + and there is a mattress inside to drop upon. But release the bar + immediately, or you may be dragged back. The door of the room in which you + will find yourself is unlocked, and you have only to walk down the stairs + and out into the street.” + </p> + <p> + I peered at the crossbar in my hand, then looked hard at the girl beside + me. I missed something of the old fire of her nature; she was very + subdued, tonight. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Karamaneh,” I said, softly. + </p> + <p> + She suppressed a little cry as I spoke her name, and drew back into the + shadows. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are my friend,” I said, “but I cannot understand. Won’t you + help me to understand?” + </p> + <p> + I took her unresisting hand, and drew her toward me. My very soul seemed + to thrill at the contact of her lithe body... + </p> + <p> + She was trembling wildly and seemed to be trying to speak, but although + her lips framed the words no sound followed. Suddenly comprehension came + to me. I looked down into the street, hitherto deserted... and into the + upturned face of Fu-Manchu. + </p> + <p> + Wearing a heavy fur-collared coat, and with his yellow, malignant + countenance grotesquely horrible beneath the shade of a large tweed motor + cap, he stood motionless, looking up at me. That he had seen me, I could + not doubt; but had he seen my companion? + </p> + <p> + In a choking whisper Karamaneh answered my unspoken question. + </p> + <p> + “He has not seen me! I have done much for you; do in return a small thing + for me. Save my life!” + </p> + <p> + She dragged me back from the window and fled across the room to the weird + laboratory where I had lain captive. Throwing herself upon the divan, she + held out her white wrists and glanced significantly at the manacles. + </p> + <p> + “Lock them upon me!” she said, rapidly. “Quick! quick!” + </p> + <p> + Great as was my mental disturbance, I managed to grasp the purpose of this + device. The very extremity of my danger found me cool. I fastened the + manacles, which so recently had confined my own wrists, upon the slim + wrists of Karamaneh. A faint and muffled disturbance, doubly ominous + because there was nothing to proclaim its nature, reached me from some + place below, on the ground floor. + </p> + <p> + “Tie something around my mouth!” directed Karamaneh with nervous rapidity. + As I began to look about me:—“Tear a strip from my dress,” she said; + “do not hesitate—be quick! be quick!” + </p> + <p> + I seized the flimsy muslin and tore off half a yard or so from the hem of + the skirt. The voice of Dr Fu-Manchu became audible. He was speaking + rapidly, sibilantly, and evidently was approaching—would be upon me + in a matter of moments. I fastened the strip of fabric over the girl’s + mouth and tied it behind, experiencing a pang half pleasurable and half + fearful as I found my hands in contact with the foamy luxuriance of her + hair. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Fu-Manchu was entering the room immediately beyond. + </p> + <p> + Snatching up the bunch of keys, I turned and ran, for in another instant + my retreat would be cut off. As I burst once more into the darkened room I + became aware that a door on the further side of it was open; and framed in + the opening was the tall, high-shouldered figure of the Chinaman, still + enveloped in his fur coat and wearing the grotesque cap. As I saw him, so + he perceived me; and as I sprang to the window, he advanced. + </p> + <p> + I turned desperately and hurled the bunch of keys with all my force into + the dimly-seen face... + </p> + <p> + Either because they possessed a chatoyant quality of their own (as I had + often suspected), or by reason of the light reflected through the open + window, the green eyes gleamed upon me vividly like those of a giant cat. + One short guttural exclamation paid tribute to the accuracy of my aim; + then I had the crossbar in my hand. I threw one leg across the sill, and + dire as was my extremity, hesitated for an instant ere trusting myself to + the flight... + </p> + <p> + A vise-like grip fastened upon my left ankle. + </p> + <p> + Hazily I became aware that the dark room was flooded with figures. The + whole yellow gang were upon me—the entire murder-group composed of + units recruited from the darkest place of the East! + </p> + <p> + I have never counted myself a man of resource, and have always envied + Nayland Smith his possession of that quality, in him extraordinarily + developed; but on this occasion the gods were kind to me, and I resorted + to the only device, perhaps, which could have saved me. Without releasing + my hold upon the crossbar, I clutched at the ledge with the fingers of + both hands and swung back into the room my right leg, which was already + across the sill. With all my strength I kicked out. My heel came in + contact, in sickening contact, with a human head; beyond doubt that I had + split the skull of the man who held me. + </p> + <p> + The grip upon my ankle was released automatically; and now consigning all + my weight to the rope I slipped forward, as a diver, across the broad + ledge and found myself sweeping through the night like a winged thing... + </p> + <p> + The line, as Karamaneh had assured me, was of well-judged length. Down I + swept to within six or seven feet of the street level, then up, at ever + decreasing speed, toward the vague oblong of the open window beyond. + </p> + <p> + I hope I have been successful, in some measure, in portraying the varied + emotions which it was my lot to experience that night, and it may well + seem that nothing more exquisite could remain for me. Yet it was written + otherwise; for as I swept up to my goal, describing the inevitable arc + which I had no power to check, I saw that one awaited me. + </p> + <p> + Crouching forward half out of the open window was a Burmese dacoit, a + cross-eyed, leering being whom I well remembered to have encountered two + years before in my dealings with Dr. Fu-Manchu. One bare, sinewy arm held + rigidly at right angles before his breast, he clutched a long curved knife + and waited—waited—for the critical moment when my throat + should be at his mercy! + </p> + <p> + I have said that a strange coolness had come to my aid; even now it did + not fail me, and so incalculably rapid are the workings of the human mind + that I remember complimenting myself upon an achievement which Smith + himself could not have bettered, and this in the immeasurable interval + which intervened between the commencement of my upward swing and my + arrival on a level with the window. + </p> + <p> + I threw my body back and thrust my feet forward. As my legs went through + the opening, an acute pain in one calf told me that I was not to escape + scatheless from the night’s melee. But the dacoit went rolling over in the + darkness of the room, as helpless in face of that ramrod stroke as the + veriest infant... + </p> + <p> + Back I swept upon my trapeze, a sight to have induced any passing citizen + to question his sanity. With might and main I sought to check the swing of + the pendulum, for if I should come within reach of the window behind I + doubted not that other knives awaited me. It was no difficult feat, and I + succeeded in checking my flight. Swinging there above Museum Street I + could even appreciate, so lucid was my mind, the ludicrous element of the + situation. + </p> + <p> + I dropped. My wounded leg almost failed me; and greatly shaken, but with + no other serious damage, I picked myself up from the dust of the roadway. + It was a mockery of Fate that the problem which Nayland Smith had set me + to solve, should have been solved thus; for I could not doubt that by + means of the branch of a tall tree or some other suitable object situated + opposite to Smith’s house in Rangoon, Karamaneh had made her escape as + tonight I had made mine. + </p> + <p> + Apart from the acute pain in my calf I knew that the dacoit’s knife had + bitten deeply, by reason of the fact that a warm liquid was trickling down + into my boot. Like any drunkard I stood there in the middle of the road + looking up at the vacant window where the dacoit had been, and up at the + window above the shop of J. Salaman where I knew Fu-Manchu to be. But for + some reason the latter window had been closed or almost closed, and as I + stood there this reason became apparent to me. + </p> + <p> + The sound of running footsteps came from the direction of New Oxford + Street. I turned—to see two policemen bearing down upon me! + </p> + <p> + This was a time for quick decisions and prompt action. I weighed all the + circumstances in the balance, and made the last vital choice of the night; + I turned and ran toward the British Museum as though the worst of + Fu-Manchu’s creatures, and not my allies the police, were at my heels! + </p> + <p> + No one else was in sight, but, as I whirled into the Square, the red lamp + of a slowly retreating taxi became visible some hundred yards to the left. + My leg was paining me greatly, but the nature of the wound did not + interfere with my progress; therefore I continued my headlong career, and + ere the police had reached the end of Museum Street I had my hand upon the + door handle of the cab—for, the Fates being persistently kind to me, + the vehicle was for hire. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Cleeve’s, Harley Street!” I shouted at the man. “Drive like hell! + It’s an urgent case.” + </p> + <p> + I leaped into the cab. + </p> + <p> + Within five seconds from the time that I slammed the door and dropped back + panting upon the cushions, we were speeding westward toward the house of + the famous pathologist, thereby throwing the police hopelessly off the + track. + </p> + <p> + Faintly to my ears came the purr of a police whistle. The taxi-man + evidently did not hear the significant sound. Merciful Providence had rung + down the curtain; for to-night my role in the yellow drama was finished. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. CRAGMIRE TOWER + </h2> + <p> + Less than two hours later, Inspector Weymouth and a party of men from + Scotland Yard raided the house in Museum Street. They found the stock of + J. Salaman practically intact, and, in the strangely appointed rooms + above, every evidence of a hasty outgoing. But of the instruments, drugs + and other laboratory paraphernalia not one item remained. I would gladly + have given my income for a year, to have gained possession of the books, + alone; for, beyond all shadow of doubt, I knew them to contain formula + calculated to revolutionize the science of medicine. + </p> + <p> + Exhausted, physically and mentally, and with my mind a whispering-gallery + of conjectures (it were needless for me to mention whom respecting) I + turned in, gratefully, having patched up the slight wound in my calf. + </p> + <p> + I seemed scarcely to have closed my eyes, when Nayland Smith was shaking + me into wakefulness. + </p> + <p> + “You are probably tired out,” he said; “but your crazy expedition of last + night entitles you to no sympathy. Read this; there is a train in an hour. + We will reserve a compartment and you can resume your interrupted slumbers + in a corner seat.” + </p> + <p> + As I struggled upright in bed, rubbing my eyes sleepily, Smith handed me + the Daily Telegraph, pointing to the following paragraph upon the literary + page: + </p> + <p> + Messrs. M—— announce that they will publish shortly the long + delayed work of Kegan Van Roon, the celebrated American traveler, + Orientalist and psychic investigator, dealing with his recent inquiries in + China. It will be remembered that Mr. Van Roon undertook to motor from + Canton to Siberia last winter, but met with unforeseen difficulties in the + province of Ho-Nan. He fell into the hands of a body of fanatics and was + fortunate to escape with his life. His book will deal in particular with + his experiences in Ho-Nan, and some sensational revelations regarding the + awakening of that most mysterious race, the Chinese, are promised. For + reasons of his own he has decided to remain in England until the + completion of his book (which will be published simultaneously in New York + and London) and has leased Cragmire Tower, Somersetshire, in which + romantic and historical residence he will collate his notes and prepare + for the world a work ear-marked as a classic even before it is published. + </p> + <p> + I glanced up from the paper, to find Smith’s eyes fixed upon me, + inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “From what I have been able to learn,” he said, evenly, “we should reach + Saul, with decent luck, just before dusk.” + </p> + <p> + As he turned, and quitted the room without another word, I realized, in a + flash, the purport of our mission; I understood my friend’s ominous calm, + betokening suppressed excitement. + </p> + <p> + The Fates were with us (or so it seemed); and whereas we had not hoped to + gain Saul before sunset, as a matter of fact, the autumn afternoon was in + its most glorious phase as we left the little village with its oldtime + hostelry behind us and set out in an easterly direction, with the Bristol + Channel far away on our left and a gently sloping upland on our right. + </p> + <p> + The crooked high-street practically constituted the entire hamlet of Saul, + and the inn, “The Wagoners,” was the last house in the street. Now, as we + followed the ribbon of moor-path to the top of the rise, we could stand + and look back upon the way we had come; and although we had covered fully + a mile of ground, it was possible to detect the sunlight gleaming now and + then upon the gilt lettering of the inn sign as it swayed in the breeze. + The day had been unpleasantly warm, but was relieved by this same sea + breeze, which, although but slight, had in it the tang of the broad + Atlantic. Behind us, then, the foot-path sloped down to Saul, unpeopled by + any living thing; east and northeast swelled the monotony of the moor + right out to the hazy distance where the sky began and the sea remotely + lay hidden; west fell the gentle gradient from the top of the slope which + we had mounted, and here, as far as the eye could reach, the country had + an appearance suggestive of a huge and dried-up lake. This idea was borne + out by an odd blotchiness, for sometimes there would be half a mile or + more of seeming moorland, then a sharply defined change (or it seemed + sharply defined from that bird’s-eye point of view). A vivid greenness + marked these changes, which merged into a dun-colored smudge and again + into the brilliant green; then the moor would begin once more. + </p> + <p> + “That will be the Tor of Glastonbury, I suppose,” said Smith, suddenly + peering through his field-glasses in an easterly direction; “and yonder, + unless I am greatly mistaken, is Cragmire Tower.” + </p> + <p> + Shading my eyes with my hand, I also looked ahead, and saw the place for + which we were bound; one of those round towers, more common in Ireland, + which some authorities have declared to be of Phoenician origin. + Ramshackle buildings clustered untidily about its base, and to it a sort + of tongue of that oddly venomous green which patched the lowlands, shot + out and seemed almost to reach the towerbase. The land for miles around + was as flat as the palm of my hand, saving certain hummocks, lesser tors, + and irregular piles of boulders which dotted its expanse. Hills and + uplands there were in the hazy distance, forming a sort of mighty inland + bay which I doubted not in some past age had been covered by the sea. Even + in the brilliant sunlight the place had something of a mournful aspect, + looking like a great dried-up pool into which the children of giants had + carelessly cast stones. + </p> + <p> + We met no living soul upon the moor. With Cragmire Tower but a quarter of + a mile off, Smith paused again, and raising his powerful glasses swept the + visible landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Not a sign. Petrie,” he said, softly; “yet...” + </p> + <p> + Dropping the glasses back into their case, my companion began to tug at + his left ear. + </p> + <p> + “Have we been over-confident?” he said, narrowing his eyes in speculative + fashion. “No less than three times I have had the idea that something, or + some one, has just dropped out of sight, behind me, as I focused...” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “Are we”—he glanced about him as though the vastness were peopled + with listening Chinamen—“followed?” + </p> + <p> + Silently we looked into one another’s eyes, each seeking for the dread + which neither had named. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Come on Petrie!” said Smith, grasping my arm; and at quick march we were + off again. + </p> + <p> + Cragmire Tower stood upon a very slight eminence, and what had looked like + a green tongue, from the moorland slopes above, was in fact a creek, + flanked by lush land, which here found its way to the sea. The house which + we were come to visit consisted in a low, two-story building, joining the + ancient tower on the east with two smaller outbuildings. There was a + miniature kitchen-garden, and a few stunted fruit trees in the northwest + corner; the whole being surrounded by a gray stone wall. + </p> + <p> + The shadow of the tower fell sharply across the path, which ran up almost + alongside of it. We were both extremely warm by reason of our long and + rapid walk on that hot day, and this shade should have been grateful to + us. In short, I find it difficult to account for the unwelcome chill which + I experienced at the moment that I found myself at the foot of the + time-worn monument. I know that we both pulled up sharply and looked at + one another as though acted upon by some mutual disturbance. + </p> + <p> + But not a sound broke the stillness save a remote murmuring, until a + solitary sea gull rose in the air and circled directly over the tower, + uttering its mournful and unmusical cry. Automatically to my mind sprang + the lines of the poem: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Far from all brother-men, in the weird of the fen, + With God’s creatures I bide, ‘mid the birds that I ken; + Where the winds ever dree, where the hymn of the sea + Brings a message of peace from the ocean to me. +</pre> + <p> + Not a soul was visible about the premises; there was no sound of human + activity and no dog barked. Nayland Smith drew a long breath, glanced back + along the way we had come, then went on, following the wall, I beside him, + until we came to the gate. It was unfastened, and we walked up the stone + path through a wilderness of weeds. Four windows of the house were + visible, two on the ground floor and two above. Those on the ground floor + were heavily boarded up, those above, though glazed, boasted neither + blinds nor curtains. Cragmire Tower showed not the slightest evidence of + tenancy. + </p> + <p> + We mounted three steps and stood before a tremendously massive oaken door. + An iron bell-pull, ancient and rusty, hung on the right of the door, and + Smith, giving me an odd glance, seized the ring and tugged it. + </p> + <p> + From somewhere within the building answered a mournful clangor, a cracked + and toneless jangle, which, seeming to echo through empty apartments, + sought and found an exit apparently by way of one of the openings in the + round tower; for it was from above our heads that the noise came to us. + </p> + <p> + It died away, that eerie ringing—that clanging so dismal that it + could chill my heart even then with the bright sunlight streaming down out + of the blue; it awoke no other response than the mournful cry of the sea + gull circling over our heads. Silence fell. We looked at one another, and + we were both about to express a mutual doubt when, unheralded by any + unfastening of bolts or bars, the oaken door was opened, and a huge + mulatto, dressed in white, stood there regarding us. + </p> + <p> + I started nervously, for the apparition was so unexpected, but Nayland + Smith, without evidence of surprise, thrust a card into the man’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “Take my card to Mr. Van Roon, and say that I wish to see him on important + business,” he directed, authoritatively. + </p> + <p> + The mulatto bowed and retired. His white figure seemed to be swallowed up + by the darkness within, for beyond the patch of uncarpeted floor revealed + by the peeping sunlight, was a barn-like place of densest shadow. I was + about to speak, but Smith laid his hand upon my arm warningly, as, out + from the shadows the mulatto returned. He stood on the right of the door + and bowed again. + </p> + <p> + “Be pleased to enter,” he said, in his harsh, negro voice. “Mr. Van Roon + will see you.” + </p> + <p> + The gladness of the sun could no longer stir me; a chill and sense of + foreboding bore me company, as beside Nayland Smith I entered Cragmire + Tower. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE MULATTO + </h2> + <p> + The room in which Van Roon received us was roughly of the shape of an + old-fashioned keyhole; one end of it occupied the base of the tower, upon + which the remainder had evidently been built. In many respects it was a + singular room, but the feature which caused me the greatest amazement was + this:—it had no windows! + </p> + <p> + In the deep alcove formed by the tower sat Van Roon at a littered table, + upon which stood an oil reading-lamp, green shaded, of the “Victoria” + pattern, to furnish the entire illumination of the apartment. That + bookshelves lined the rectangular portion of this strange study I divined, + although that end of the place was dark as a catacomb. The walls were + wood-paneled, and the ceiling was oaken beamed. A small bookshelf and + tumble-down cabinet stood upon either side of the table, and the + celebrated American author and traveler lay propped up in a long + split-cane chair. He wore smoked glasses, and had a clean-shaven, olive + face, with a profusion of jet black hair. He was garbed in a dirty red + dressing-gown, and a perfect fog of cigar smoke hung in the room. He did + not rise to greet us, but merely extended his right hand, between two + fingers whereof he held Smith’s card. + </p> + <p> + “You will excuse the seeming discourtesy of an invalid, gentlemen?” he + said; “but I am suffering from undue temerity in the interior of China!” + </p> + <p> + He waved his hand vaguely, and I saw that two rough deal chairs stood near + the table. Smith and I seated ourselves, and my friend, leaning his elbow + upon the table, looked fixedly at the face of the man whom we had come + from London to visit. Although comparatively unfamiliar to the British + public, the name of Van Roon was well-known in American literary circles; + for he enjoyed in the United States a reputation somewhat similar to that + which had rendered the name of our mutual friend, Sir Lionel Barton, a + household word in England. It was Van Roon who, following in the footsteps + of Madame Blavatsky, had sought out the haunts of the fabled mahatmas in + the Himalayas, and Van Roon who had essayed to explore the fever swamps of + Yucatan in quest of the secret of lost Atlantis; lastly, it was Van Roon, + who, with an overland car specially built for him by a celebrated American + firm, had undertaken the journey across China. + </p> + <p> + I studied the olive face with curiosity. Its natural impassivity was so + greatly increased by the presence of the colored spectacles that my study + was as profitless as if I had scrutinized the face of a carven Buddha. The + mulatto had withdrawn, and in an atmosphere of gloom and tobacco smoke, + Smith and I sat staring, perhaps rather rudely, at the object of our visit + to the West Country. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Van Roon,” began my friend abruptly, “you will no doubt have seen + this paragraph. It appeared in this morning’s Daily Telegraph.” + </p> + <p> + He stood up, and taking out the cutting from his notebook, placed it on + the table. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen this—yes,” said Van Roon, revealing a row of even, + white teeth in a rapid smile. “Is it to this paragraph that I owe the + pleasure of seeing you here?” + </p> + <p> + “The paragraph appeared in this morning’s issue,” replied Smith. “An hour + from the time of seeing it, my friend, Dr. Petrie, and I were entrained + for Bridgewater.” + </p> + <p> + “Your visit delights me, gentlemen, and I should be ungrateful to question + its cause; but frankly I am at a loss to understand why you should have + honored me thus. I am a poor host, God knows; for what with my tortured + limb, a legacy from the Chinese devils whose secrets I surprised, and my + semi-blindness, due to the same cause, I am but sorry company.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith held up his right hand deprecatingly. Van Roon tendered a + box of cigars and clapped his hands, whereupon the mulatto entered. + </p> + <p> + “I see that you have a story to tell me, Mr. Smith,” he said; “therefore I + suggest whisky-and-soda—or you might prefer tea, as it is nearly tea + time?” + </p> + <p> + Smith and I chose the former refreshment, and the soft-footed half-breed + having departed upon his errand, my companion, leaning forward earnestly + across the littered table, outlined for Van Roon the story of Dr. + Fu-Manchu, the great and malign being whose mission in England at that + moment was none other than the stoppage of just such information as our + host was preparing to give to the world. + </p> + <p> + “There is a giant conspiracy, Mr. Van Roon,” he said, “which had its birth + in this very province of Ho-Nan, from which you were so fortunate to + escape alive; whatever its scope or limitations, a great secret society is + established among the yellow races. It means that China, which has + slumbered for so many generations, now stirs in that age-long sleep. I + need not tell you how much more it means, this seething in the pot...” + </p> + <p> + “In a word,” interrupted Van Roon, pushing Smith’s glass across the table + “you would say?—” + </p> + <p> + “That your life is not worth that!” replied Smith, snapping his fingers + before the other’s face. + </p> + <p> + A very impressive silence fell. I watched Van Roon curiously as he sat + propped up among his cushions, his smooth face ghastly in the green light + from the lamp-shade. He held the stump of a cigar between his teeth, but, + apparently unnoticed by him, it had long since gone out. Smith, out of the + shadows, was watching him, too. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Your information is very disturbing,” said the American. “I am the more + disposed to credit your statement because I am all too painfully aware of + the existence of such a group as you mention, in China, but that they had + an agent here in England is something I had never conjectured. In seeking + out this solitary residence I have unwittingly done much to assist their + designs... But—my dear Mr. Smith, I am very remiss! Of course you + will remain tonight, and I trust for some days to come?” + </p> + <p> + Smith glanced rapidly across at me, then turned again to our host. + </p> + <p> + “It seems like forcing our company upon you,” he said, “but in your own + interests I think it will be best to do as you are good enough to suggest. + I hope and believe that our arrival here has not been noticed by the + enemy; therefore it will be well if we remain concealed as much as + possible for the present, until we have settled upon some plan.” + </p> + <p> + “Hagar shall go to the station for your baggage,” said the American + rapidly, and clapped his hands, his usual signal to the mulatto. + </p> + <p> + Whilst the latter was receiving his orders I noticed Nayland Smith + watching him closely; and when he had departed: + </p> + <p> + “How long has that man been in your service?” snapped my friend. + </p> + <p> + Van Roon peered blindly through his smoked glasses. + </p> + <p> + “For some years,” he replied; “he was with me in India—and in + China.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you engage him?” + </p> + <p> + “Actually, in St. Kitts.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m,” muttered Smith, and automatically he took out and began to fill his + pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I can offer you no company but my own, gentlemen,” continued Van Roon, + “but unless it interferes with your plans, you may find the surrounding + district of interest and worthy of inspection, between now and dinner + time. By the way, I think I can promise you quite a satisfactory meal, for + Hagar is a model chef.” + </p> + <p> + “A walk would be enjoyable,” said Smith, “but dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! perhaps you are right. Evidently you apprehend some attempt upon me?” + </p> + <p> + “At any moment!” + </p> + <p> + “To one in my crippled condition, an alarming outlook! However, I place + myself unreservedly in your hands. But really, you must not leave this + interesting district before you have made the acquaintance of some of its + historical spots. To me, steeped as I am in what I may term the lore of + the odd, it is a veritable wonderland, almost as interesting, in its way, + as the caves and jungles of Hindustan depicted by Madame Blavatsky.” + </p> + <p> + His high-pitched voice, with a certain labored intonation, not quite so + characteristically American as was his accent, rose even higher; he spoke + with the fire of the enthusiast. + </p> + <p> + “When I learned that Cragmire Tower was vacant,” he continued, “I leaped + at the chance (excuse the metaphor, from a lame man!). This is a ghost + hunter’s paradise. The tower itself is of unknown origin, though probably + Phoenician, and the house traditionally sheltered Dr. Macleod, the + necromancer, after his flight from the persecution of James of Scotland. + Then, to add to its interest, it borders on Sedgemoor, the scene of the + bloody battle during the Monmouth rising, whereat a thousand were slain on + the field. It is a local legend that the unhappy Duke and his staff may be + seen, on stormy nights, crossing the path which skirts the mire, after + which this building is named, with flaming torches held aloft.” + </p> + <p> + “Merely marsh-lights, I take it?” interjected Smith, gripping his pipe + hard between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Your practical mind naturally seeks a practical explanation,” smiled Van + Roon, “but I myself have other theories. Then in addition to the charms of + Sedgemoor—haunted Sedgemoor—on a fine day it is quite possible + to see the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey from here; and Glastonbury Abbey, as + you may know, is closely bound up with the history of alchemy. It was in + the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey that the adept Kelly, companion of Dr. Dee, + discovered, in the reign of Elizabeth, the famous caskets of St. Dunstan, + containing the two tinctures...” + </p> + <p> + So he ran on, enumerating the odd charms of his residence, charms which + for my part I did not find appealing. Finally: + </p> + <p> + “We cannot presume further upon your kindness,” said Nayland Smith, + standing up. “No doubt we can amuse ourselves in the neighborhood of the + house until the return of your servant.” + </p> + <p> + “Look upon Cragmire Tower as your own, gentlemen!” cried Van Roon. “Most + of the rooms are unfurnished, and the garden is a wilderness, but the + structure of the brickwork in the tower may interest you archaeologically, + and the view across the moor is at least as fine as any in the + neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + So, with his brilliant smile and a gesture of one thin yellow hand, the + crippled traveler made us free of his odd dwelling. As I passed out from + the room close at Smith’s heels, I glanced back, I cannot say why. Van + Roon already was bending over his papers, in his green shadowed sanctuary, + and the light shining down upon his smoked glasses created the odd + illusion that he was looking over the tops of the lenses and not down at + the table as his attitude suggested. However, it was probably ascribable + to the weird chiaroscuro of the scene, although it gave the seated figure + an oddly malignant appearance, and I passed out through the utter darkness + of the outer room to the front door. Smith opening it, I was conscious of + surprise to find dusk come—to meet darkness where I had looked for + sunlight. + </p> + <p> + The silver wisps which had raced along the horizon, as we came to Cragmire + Tower, had been harbingers of other and heavier banks. A stormy sunset + smeared crimson streaks across the skyline, where a great range of clouds, + like the oily smoke of a city burning, was banked, mountain topping + mountain, and lighted from below by this angry red. As we came down the + steps and out by the gate, I turned and looked across the moor behind us. + A sort of reflection from this distant blaze encrimsoned the whole + landscape. The inland bay glowed sullenly, as if internal fires and not + reflected light were at work; a scene both wild and majestic. + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith was staring up at the cone-like top of the ancient tower in + a curious, speculative fashion. Under the influence of our host’s + conversation I had forgotten the reasonless dread which had touched me at + the moment of our arrival, but now, with the red light blazing over + Sedgemoor, as if in memory of the blood which had been shed there, and + with the tower of unknown origin looming above me, I became very + uncomfortable again, nor did I envy Van Roon his eerie residence. The + proximity of a tower of any kind, at night, makes in some inexplicable way + for awe, and to-night there were other agents, too. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” snapped Smith suddenly, grasping my arm. + </p> + <p> + He was peering southward, toward the distant hamlet, and, starting + violently at his words and the sudden grasp of his hand, I, too, stared in + that direction. + </p> + <p> + “We were followed, Petrie,” he almost whispered. “I never got a sight of + our follower, but I’ll swear we were followed. Look! there’s something + moving over yonder!” + </p> + <p> + Together we stood staring into the dusk; then Smith burst abruptly into + one of his rare laughs, and clapped me upon the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “It’s Hagar, the mulatto!” he cried—“and our grips. That + extraordinary American with his tales of witch-lights and haunted abbeys + has been playing the devil with our nerves.” + </p> + <p> + Together we waited by the gate until the half-caste appeared on the bend + of the path with a grip in either hand. He was a great, muscular fellow + with a stoic face, and, for the purpose of visiting Saul, presumably, he + had doffed his white raiment and now wore a sort of livery, with a peaked + cap. + </p> + <p> + Smith watched him enter the house. Then: + </p> + <p> + “I wonder where Van Roon obtains his provisions and so forth,” he + muttered. “It’s odd they knew nothing about the new tenant of Cragmire + Tower at ‘The Wagoners.’” + </p> + <p> + There came a sort of sudden expectancy into his manner for which I found + myself at a loss to account. He turned his gaze inland and stood there + tugging at his left ear and clicking his teeth together. He stared at me, + and his eyes looked very bright in the dusk, for a sort of red glow from + the sunset touched them; but he spoke no word, merely taking my arm and + leading me off on a rambling walk around and about the house. Neither of + us spoke a word until we stood at the gate of Cragmire Tower again; then: + </p> + <p> + “I’ll swear, now, that we were followed here today!” muttered Smith. + </p> + <p> + The lofty place immediately within the doorway proved, in the light of a + lamp now fixed in an iron bracket, to be a square entrance hall meagerly + furnished. The closed study door faced the entrance, and on the left of it + ascended an open staircase up which the mulatto led the way. We found + ourselves on the floor above, in a corridor traversing the house from back + to front. An apartment on the immediate left was indicated by the mulatto + as that allotted to Smith. It was a room of fair size, furnished quite + simply but boasting a wardrobe cupboard, and Smith’s grip stood beside the + white enameled bed. I glanced around, and then prepared to follow the man, + who had awaited me in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + He still wore his dark livery, and as I followed the lithe, + broad-shouldered figure along the corridor, I found myself considering + critically his breadth of shoulder and the extraordinary thickness of his + neck. + </p> + <p> + I have repeatedly spoken of a sort of foreboding, an elusive stirring in + the depths of my being of which I became conscious at certain times in my + dealings with Dr. Fu-Manchu and his murderous servants. This sensation, or + something akin to it, claimed me now, unaccountably, as I stood looking + into the neat bedroom, on the same side of the corridor but at the extreme + end, wherein I was to sleep. + </p> + <p> + A voiceless warning urged me to return; a kind of childish panic came + fluttering about my heart, a dread of entering the room, of allowing the + mulatto to come behind me. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless this was no more than a sub-conscious product of my observations + respecting his abnormal breadth of shoulder. But whatever the origin of + the impulse, I found myself unable to disobey it. Therefore, I merely + nodded, turned on my heel and went back to Smith’s room. + </p> + <p> + I closed the door, then turned to face Smith, who stood regarding me. + </p> + <p> + “Smith,” I said, “that man sends cold water trickling down my spine!” + </p> + <p> + Still regarding me fixedly, my friend nodded his head. + </p> + <p> + “You are curiously sensitive to this sort of thing,” he replied slowly; “I + have noticed it before as a useful capacity. I don’t like the look of the + man myself. The fact that he has been in Van Roon’s employ for some years + goes for nothing. We are neither of us likely to forget Kwee, the Chinese + servant of Sir Lionel Barton, and it is quite possible that Fu-Manchu has + corrupted this man as he corrupted the other. It is quite possible...” + </p> + <p> + His voice trailed off into silence, and he stood looking across the room + with unseeing eyes, meditating deeply. It was quite dark now outside, as I + could see through the uncurtained window, which opened upon the dreary + expanse stretching out to haunted Sedgemoor. Two candles were burning upon + the dressing table; they were but recently lighted, and so intense was the + stillness that I could distinctly hear the spluttering of one of the + wicks, which was damp. Without giving the slightest warning of his + intention, Smith suddenly made two strides forward, stretched out his long + arms, and snuffed the pair of candles in a twinkling. + </p> + <p> + The room became plunged in impenetrable darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word, Petrie!” whispered my companion. + </p> + <p> + I moved cautiously to join him, but as I did so, perceived that he was + moving too. Vaguely, against the window I perceived him silhouetted. He + was looking out across the moor, and: + </p> + <p> + “See! see!” he hissed. + </p> + <p> + With my heart thumping furiously in my breast, I bent over him; and for + the second time since our coming to Cragmire Tower, my thoughts flew to + “The Fenman.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There are shades in the fen; ghosts of women and men + Who have sinned and have died, but are living again. + O’er the waters they tread, with their lanterns of dread, + And they peer in the pools—in the pools of the dead... +</pre> + <p> + A light was dancing out upon the moor, a witchlight that came and went + unaccountably, up and down, in and out, now clearly visible, now masked in + the darkness! + </p> + <p> + “Lock the door!” snapped my companion—“if there’s a key.” + </p> + <p> + I crept across the room and fumbled for a moment; then: + </p> + <p> + “There is no key,” I reported. + </p> + <p> + “Then wedge the chair under the knob and let no one enter until I return!” + he said, amazingly. + </p> + <p> + With that he opened the window to its fullest extent, threw his leg over + the sill, and went creeping along a wide concrete ledge, in which ran a + leaded gutter, in the direction of the tower on the right! + </p> + <p> + Not pausing to follow his instructions respecting the chair, I craned out + of the window, watching his progress, and wondering with what sudden + madness he was bitten. Indeed, I could not credit my senses, could not + believe that I heard and saw aright. Yet there out in the darkness on the + moor moved the will-o’-the-wisp, and ten yards along the gutter crept my + friend, like a great gaunt cat. Unknown to me he must have prospected the + route by daylight, for now I saw his design. The ledge terminated only + where it met the ancient wall of the tower, and it was possible for an + agile climber to step from it to the edge of the unglazed window some four + feet below, and to scramble from that point to the stone fence and thence + on to the path by which we had come from Saul. + </p> + <p> + This difficult operation Nayland Smith successfully performed, and, to my + unbounded amazement, went racing into the darkness toward the dancing + light, headlong, like a madman! The night swallowed him up, and between my + wonder and my fear my hands trembled so violently that I could scarce + support myself where I rested, with my full weight upon the sill. + </p> + <p> + I seemed now to be moving through the fevered phases of a nightmare. + Around and below me Cragmire Tower was profoundly silent, but a faint odor + of cookery was now perceptible. Outside, from the night, came a faint + whispering as of the distant sea, but no moon and no stars relieved the + impenetrable blackness. Only out over the moor the mysterious light still + danced and moved. + </p> + <p> + One—two—three—four—five minutes passed. The light + vanished and did not appear again. Five more age-long minutes elapsed in + absolute silence, whilst I peered into the darkness of the night and + listened, every nerve in my body tense, for the return of Nayland Smith. + Yet two more minutes, which embraced an agony of suspense, passed in the + same fashion; then a shadowy form grew, phantomesque, out of the gloom; a + moment more, and I distinctly heard the heavy breathing of a man nearly + spent, and saw my friend scrambling up toward the black embrasure in the + tower. His voice came huskily, pantingly: + </p> + <p> + “Creep along and lend me a hand, Petrie! I am nearly winded.” + </p> + <p> + I crept through the window, steadied my quivering nerves by an effort of + the will, and reached the end of the ledge in time to take Smith’s + extended hand and to draw him up beside me against the wall of the tower. + He was shaking with his exertions, and must have fallen, I think, without + my assistance. Inside the room again: + </p> + <p> + “Quick! light the candles!” he breathed hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Did any one come?” + </p> + <p> + “No one—nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Having expended several matches in vain, for my fingers twitched + nervously, I ultimately succeeded in relighting the candles. + </p> + <p> + “Get along to your room!” directed Smith. “Your apprehensions are + unfounded at the moment, but you may as well leave both doors wide open!” + </p> + <p> + I looked into his face—it was very drawn and grim, and his brow was + wet with perspiration, but his eyes had the fighting glint, and I knew + that we were upon the eve of strange happenings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. A CRY ON THE MOOR + </h2> + <p> + Of the events intervening between this moment and that when death called + to us out of the night, I have the haziest recollections. An excellent + dinner was served in the bleak and gloomy dining-room by the mulatto, and + the crippled author was carried to the head of the table by this same + Herculean attendant, as lightly as though he had but the weight of a + child. + </p> + <p> + Van Roon talked continuously, revealing a deep knowledge of all sorts of + obscure matters; and in the brief intervals, Nayland Smith talked also, + with almost feverish rapidity. Plans for the future were discussed. I can + recall no one of them. + </p> + <p> + I could not stifle my queer sentiments in regard to the mulatto, and every + time I found him behind my chair I was hard put to repress a shudder. In + this fashion the strange evening passed; and to the accompaniment of + distant, muttering thunder, we two guests retired to our chambers in + Cragmire Tower. Smith had contrived to give me my instructions in a + whisper, and five minutes after entering my own room, I had snuffed the + candles, slipped a wedge, which he had given me, under the door, crept out + through the window onto the guttered ledge, and joined Smith in his room. + He, too, had extinguished his candles, and the place was in darkness. As I + climbed in, he grasped my wrist to silence me, and turned me forcibly + toward the window. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” he said. + </p> + <p> + I turned and looked out upon a prospect which had been a fit setting for + the witch scene in Macbeth. Thunder clouds hung low over the moor, but + through them ran a sort of chasm, or rift, allowing a bar of lurid light + to stretch across the drear, from east to west—a sort of lane walled + by darkness. There came a remote murmuring, as of a troubled sea—a + hushed and distant chorus; and sometimes in upon it broke the drums of + heaven. In the west lightning flickered, though but faintly, + intermittently. + </p> + <p> + Then came the call. + </p> + <p> + Out of the blackness of the moor it came, wild and distant—“Help! + help!” + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I whispered—“what is it? What...” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith!” came the agonized cry... “Nayland Smith, help! for God’s + sake....” + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Smith!” I cried, “quick, man! It’s Van Roon—he’s been + dragged out... they are murdering him...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith held me in a vise-like grip, silent, unmoved! + </p> + <p> + Louder and more agonized came the cry for aid, and I became more than ever + certain that it was poor Van Roon who uttered it. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith! Dr. Petrie! for God’s sake come... or... it will be ... too... + late...” + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I said, turning furiously upon my friend, “if you are going to + remain here whilst murder is done, I am not!” + </p> + <p> + My blood boiled now with hot resentment. It was incredible, inhuman, that + we should remain there inert whilst a fellow man, and our host to boot, + was being done to death out there in the darkness. I exerted all my + strength to break away; but although my efforts told upon him, as his loud + breathing revealed, Nayland Smith clung to me tenaciously. Had my hands + been free, in my fury, I could have struck him, for the pitiable cries, + growing fainter, now, told their own tale. Then Smith spoke shortly and + angrily—breathing hard between the words. + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, you fool!” he snapped; “it’s little less than an insult, + Petrie, to think me capable of refusing help where help is needed!” + </p> + <p> + Like a cold douche his words acted; in that instant I knew myself a fool. + </p> + <p> + “You remember the Call of Siva?” he said, thrusting me away irritably, “—two + years ago, and what it meant to those who obeyed it?” + </p> + <p> + “You might have told me...” + </p> + <p> + “Told you! You would have been through the window before I had uttered two + words!” + </p> + <p> + I realized the truth of his assertion, and the justness of his anger. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, old man,” I said, very crestfallen, “but my impulse was a + natural one, you’ll admit. You must remember that I have been trained + never to refuse aid when aid is asked.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Petrie!” he growled; “forget it.” + </p> + <p> + The cries had ceased now, entirely, and a peal of thunder, louder than any + yet, echoed over distant Sedgemoor. The chasm of light splitting the + heavens closed in, leaving the night wholly black. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk!” rapped Smith; “act! You wedged your door?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Get into that cupboard, have your Browning ready, and keep the door + very slightly ajar.” + </p> + <p> + He was in that mood of repressed fever which I knew and which always + communicated itself to me. I spoke no further word, but stepped into the + wardrobe indicated and drew the door nearly shut. The recess just + accommodated me, and through the aperture I could see the bed, vaguely, + the open window, and part of the opposite wall. I saw Smith cross the + floor, as a mighty clap of thunder boomed over the house. + </p> + <p> + A gleam of lightning flickered through the gloom. + </p> + <p> + I saw the bed for a moment, distinctly, and it appeared to me that Smith + lay therein, with the sheets pulled up over his head. The light was gone, + and I could hear big drops of rain pattering upon the leaden gutter below + the open window. + </p> + <p> + My mood was strange, detached, and characterized by vagueness. That Van + Roon lay dead upon the moor I was convinced; and—although I + recognized that it must be a sufficient one—I could not even dimly + divine the reason why we had refrained from lending him aid. To have + failed to save him, knowing his peril, would have been bad enough; to have + refused, I thought was shameful. Better to have shared his fate—yet... + </p> + <p> + The downpour was increasing, and beating now a regular tattoo upon the + gutterway. Then, splitting the oblong of greater blackness which marked + the casement, quivered dazzlingly another flash of lightning in which I + saw the bed again, with that impression of Smith curled up in it. The + blinding light died out; came the crash of thunder, harsh and fearsome, + more imminently above the tower than ever. The building seemed to shake. + </p> + <p> + Coming as they did, horror and the wrath of heaven together, suddenly, + crashingly, black and angry after the fairness of the day, these + happenings and their setting must have terrorized the stoutest heart; but + somehow I seemed detached, as I have said, and set apart from the whirl of + events; a spectator. Even when a vague yellow light crept across the room + from the direction of the door, and flickered unsteadily on the bed, I + remained unmoved to a certain degree, although passively alive to the + significance of the incident. I realized that the ultimate issue was at + hand, but either because I was emotionally exhausted, or from some other + cause, the pending climax failed to disturb me. + </p> + <p> + Going on tiptoe, in stockinged feet, across my field of vision, passed + Kegan Van Roon! He was in his shirt-sleeves and held a lighted candle in + one hand whilst with the other he shaded it against the draught from the + window. He was a cripple no longer, and the smoked glasses were discarded; + most of the light, at the moment when first I saw him, shone upon his + thin, olive face, and at sight of his eyes much of the mystery of Cragmire + Tower was resolved. For they were oblique, very slightly, but nevertheless + unmistakably oblique. Though highly educated, and possibly an American + citizen, Van Roon was a Chinaman! + </p> + <p> + Upon the picture of his face as I saw it then, I do not care to dwell. It + lacked the unique horror of Dr. Fu-Manchu’s unforgettable countenance, but + possessed a sort of animal malignancy which the latter lacked... He + approached within three or four feet of the bed, peering—peering. + Then, with a timidity which spoke well for Nayland Smith’s reputation, + paused and beckoned to some one who evidently stood in the doorway behind + him. As he did so I noted that the legs of his trousers were caked with + greenish brown mud nearly up to the knees. + </p> + <p> + The huge mulatto, silent-footed, crossed to the bed in three strides. He + was stripped to the waist, and, excepting some few professional athletes, + I had never seen a torso to compare with that which, brown and glistening, + now bent over Nayland Smith. The muscular development was simply enormous; + the man had a neck like a column, and the thews around his back and + shoulders were like ivy tentacles wreathing some gnarled oak. + </p> + <p> + Whilst Van Roon, his evil gaze upon the bed, held the candle aloft, the + mulatto, with a curious preparatory writhing movement of the mighty + shoulders, lowered his outstretched fingers to the disordered bed linen... + </p> + <p> + I pushed open the cupboard door and thrust out the Browning. As I did so a + dramatic thing happened. A tall, gaunt figure shot suddenly upright from + beyond the bed. It was Nayland Smith! + </p> + <p> + Upraised in his hand he held a heavy walking cane. I knew the handle to be + leaded, and I could judge of the force with which he wielded it by the + fact that it cut the air with a keen swishing sound. It descended upon the + back of the mulatto’s skull with a sickening thud, and the great brown + body dropped inert upon the padded bed—in which not Smith, but his + grip, reposed. There was no word, no cry. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Shoot, Petrie! Shoot the fiend! Shoot...” + </p> + <p> + Van Roon, dropping the candle, in the falling gleam of which I saw the + whites of the oblique eyes turned and leaped from the room with the + agility of a wild cat. The ensuing darkness was split by a streak of + lightning... and there was Nayland Smith scrambling around the foot of the + bed and making for the door in hot pursuit. + </p> + <p> + We gained it almost together. Smith had dropped the cane, and now held his + pistol in his hand. Together we fired into the chasm of the corridor, and + in the flash, saw Van Roon hurling himself down the stairs. He went + silently in his stockinged feet, and our own clatter was drowned by the + awful booming of the thunder which now burst over us again. + </p> + <p> + Crack!—crack!—crack! Three times our pistols spat venomously + after the flying figure... then we had crossed the hall below and were in + the wilderness of the night with the rain descending upon us in sheets. + Vaguely I saw the white shirt-sleeves of the fugitive near the corner of + the stone fence. A moment he hesitated, then darted away inland, not + toward Saul, but toward the moor and the cup of the inland bay. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, Petrie! steady!” cried Nayland Smith. He ran, panting, beside me. + “It is the path to the mire.” He breathed sibilantly between every few + words. “It was out there... that he hoped to lure us... with the cry for + help.” + </p> + <p> + A great blaze of lightning illuminated the landscape as far as the eye + could see. Ahead of us a flying shape, hair lank and glistening in the + downpour, followed a faint path skirting that green tongue of morass which + we had noted from the upland. It was Kegan Van Roon. He glanced over his + shoulder, showing a yellow, terror-stricken face. We were gaining upon + him. Darkness fell, and the thunder cracked and boomed as though the very + moor were splitting about us. + </p> + <p> + “Another fifty yards, Petrie,” breathed Nayland Smith, “and after that + it’s unchartered ground.” + </p> + <p> + On we went through the rain and the darkness; then: + </p> + <p> + “Slow up! slow up!” cried Smith. “It feels soft!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, already I had made one false step—and the hungry mire had + fastened upon my foot, almost tripping me. + </p> + <p> + “Lost the path!” + </p> + <p> + We stopped dead. The falling rain walled us in. I dared not move, for I + knew that the mire, the devouring mire, stretched, eager, close about my + feet. We were both waiting for the next flash of lightning, I think, but, + before it came, out of the darkness ahead of us rose a cry that sometimes + rings in my ears to this hour. Yet it was no more than a repetition of + that which had called to us, deathfully, awhile before. + </p> + <p> + “Help! help! for God’s sake help! Quick! I am sinking...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith grasped my arm furiously. + </p> + <p> + “We dare not move, Petrie—we dare not move!” he breathed. “It’s + God’s justice—visible for once.” + </p> + <p> + Then came the lightning; and—ignoring a splitting crash behind us—we + both looked ahead, over the mire. + </p> + <p> + Just on the edge of the venomous green path, not thirty yards away, I saw + the head and shoulders and upstretched, appealing arms of Van Roon. Even + as the lightning flickered and we saw him, he was gone; with one last, + long, drawn-out cry, horribly like the mournful wail of a sea gull, he was + gone! + </p> + <p> + That eerie light died, and in the instant before the sound of the thunder + came shatteringly, we turned about... in time to see Cragmire Tower, a + blacker silhouette against the night, topple and fall! A red glow began to + be perceptible above the building. The thunder came booming through the + caverns of space. Nayland Smith lowered his wet face close to mine and + shouted in my ear: + </p> + <p> + “Kegan Van Roon never returned from China. It was a trap. Those were two + creatures of Dr. Fu-Manchu...” + </p> + <p> + The thunder died away, hollowly, echoing over the distant sea... + </p> + <p> + “That light on the moor to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “You have not learned the Morse Code, Petrie. It was a signal, and it + read:—S M I T H... SOS.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I took the chance, as you know. And it was Karamaneh! She knew of the + plot to bury us in the mire. She had followed from London, but could do + nothing until dusk. God forgive me if I’ve misjudged her—for we owe + her our lives to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Flames were bursting up from the building beside the ruin of the ancient + tower which had faced the storms of countless ages only to succumb at + last. The lightning literally had cloven it in twain. + </p> + <p> + “The mulatto?...” + </p> + <p> + Again the lightning flashed, and we saw the path and began to retrace our + steps. Nayland Smith turned to me; his face was very grim in that + unearthly light, and his eyes shone like steel. + </p> + <p> + “I killed him, Petrie... as I meant to do.” + </p> + <p> + From out over Sedgemoor it came, cracking and rolling and booming toward + us, swelling in volume to a stupendous climax, that awful laughter of Jove + the destroyer of Cragmire Tower. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. STORY OF THE GABLES + </h2> + <p> + In looking over my notes dealing with the second phase of Dr. Fu-Manchu’s + activities in England, I find that one of the worst hours of my life was + associated with the singular and seemingly inconsequent adventure of the + fiery hand. I shall deal with it in this place, begging you to bear with + me if I seem to digress. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Weymouth called one morning, shortly after the Van Roon episode, + and entered upon a surprising account of a visit to a house at Hampstead + which enjoyed the sinister reputation of being uninhabitable. + </p> + <p> + “But in what way does the case enter into your province?” inquired Nayland + Smith, idly tapping out his pipe on a bar of the grate. + </p> + <p> + We had not long finished breakfast, but from an early hour Smith had been + at his eternal smoking, which only the advent of the meal had interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied the inspector, who occupied a big armchair near the + window, “I was sent to look into it, I suppose, because I had nothing + better to do at the moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” jerked Smith, glancing over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The ejaculation had a veiled significance; for our quest of Dr. Fu-Manchu + had come to an abrupt termination by reason of the fact that all trace of + that malignant genius, and of the group surrounding him, had vanished with + the destruction of Cragmire Tower. + </p> + <p> + “The house is called the Gables,” continued the Scotland Yard man, “and I + knew I was on a wild goose chase from the first—” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Because I was there before, six months ago or so—just before your + present return to England—and I knew what to expect.” + </p> + <p> + Smith looked up with some faint dawning of interest perceptible in his + manner. + </p> + <p> + “I was unaware,” he said with a slight smile, “that the cleaning-up of + haunted houses came within the jurisdiction of Scotland Yard. I am + learning something.” + </p> + <p> + “In the ordinary way,” replied the big man good-humoredly, “it doesn’t. + But a sudden death always excites suspicion, and—” + </p> + <p> + “A sudden death?” I said, glancing up; “you didn’t explain that the ghost + had killed any one!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid I’m a poor hand at yarn-spinning, Doctor,” said Weymouth, + turning his blue, twinkling eyes in my direction. “Two people have died at + the Gables within the last six months.” + </p> + <p> + “You begin to interest me,” declared Smith, and there came something of + the old, eager look into his gaunt face, as, having lighted his pipe, he + tossed the match-end into the hearth. + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped for some little excitement, myself,” confessed the inspector. + “This dead-end, with not a ghost of a clue to the whereabouts of the + yellow fiend, has been getting on my nerves—” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith grunted sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Although Dr. Fu-Manchu has been in England for some months, now,” + continued Weymouth, “I have never set eyes upon him; the house we raided + in Museum Street proved to be empty; in a word, I am wasting my time. So + that I volunteered to run up to Hampstead and look into the matter of the + Gables, principally as a distraction. It’s a queer business, but more in + the Psychical Research Society’s line than mine, I’m afraid. Still, if + there were no Dr. Fu-Manchu it might be of interest to you—and to + you, Dr. Petrie, because it illustrates the fact, that, given the right + sort of subject, death can be brought about without any elaborate + mechanism—such as our Chinese friends employ.” + </p> + <p> + “You interest me more and more,” declared Smith, stretching himself in the + long, white cane rest-chair. + </p> + <p> + “Two men, both fairly sound, except that the first one had an asthmatic + heart, have died at the Gables without any one laying a little finger upon + them. Oh! there was no jugglery! They weren’t poisoned, or bitten by + venomous insects, or suffocated, or anything like that. They just died of + fear—stark fear.” + </p> + <p> + With my elbows resting upon the table cover, and my chin in my hands, I + was listening attentively, now, and Nayland Smith, a big cushion behind + his head, was watching the speaker with a keen and speculative look in + those steely eyes of his. + </p> + <p> + “You imply that Dr. Fu-Manchu has something to learn from the Gables?” he + jerked. + </p> + <p> + Weymouth nodded stolidly. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t work up anything like amazement in these days,” continued the + latter; “every other case seems stale and hackneyed alongside the case. + But I must confess that when the Gables came on the books of the Yard the + second time, I began to wonder. I thought there might be some tangible + clue, some link connecting the two victims; perhaps some evidence of + robbery or of revenge—of some sort of motive. In short, I hoped to + find evidence of human agency at work, but, as before, I was + disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a legitimate case of a haunted house, then?” said Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; we find them occasionally, these uninhabitable places, where there + is something, something malignant and harmful to human life, but something + that you cannot arrest, that you cannot hope to bring into court.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” replied Smith slowly; “I suppose you are right. There are historic + instances, of course: Glamys Castle and Spedlins Tower in Scotland, Peel + Castle, Isle of Man, with its Maudhe Dhug, the gray lady of Rainham Hall, + the headless horses of Caistor, the Wesley ghost of Epworth Rectory, and + others. But I have never come in personal contact with such a case, and if + I did I should feel very humiliated to have to confess that there was any + agency which could produce a physical result—death—but which + was immune from physical retaliation.” + </p> + <p> + Weymouth nodded his head again. + </p> + <p> + “I might feel a bit sour about it, too,” he replied, “if it were not that + I haven’t much pride left in these days, considering the show of physical + retaliation I have made against Dr. Fu-Manchu.” + </p> + <p> + “A home thrust, Weymouth!” snapped Nayland Smith, with one of those rare, + boyish laughs of his. “We’re children to that Chinese doctor, Inspector, + to that weird product of a weird people who are as old in evil as the + pyramids are old in mystery. But about the Gables?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s an uncanny place. You mentioned Glamys Castle a moment ago, + and it’s possible to understand an old stronghold like that being haunted, + but the Gables was only built about 1870; it’s quite a modern house. It + was built for a wealthy Quaker family, and they occupied it, + uninterruptedly and apparently without anything unusual occurring, for + over forty years. Then it was sold to a Mr. Maddison—and Mr. + Maddison died there six months ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Maddison?” said Smith sharply, staring across at Weymouth. “What was he? + Where did he come from?” + </p> + <p> + “He was a retired tea-planter from Colombo,” replied the inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Colombo?” + </p> + <p> + “There was a link with the East, certainly, if that’s what you are + thinking; and it was this fact which interested me at the time, and which + led me to waste precious days and nights on the case. But there was no + mortal connection between this liverish individual and the schemes of Dr. + Fu-Manchu. I’m certain of that.” + </p> + <p> + “And how did he die?” I asked, interestedly. + </p> + <p> + “He just died in his chair one evening, in the room which he used as a + library. It was his custom to sit there every night, when there were no + visitors, reading, until twelve o’clock—or later. He was a bachelor, + and his household consisted of a cook, a housemaid, and a man who had been + with him for thirty years, I believe. At the time of Mr. Maddison’s death, + his household had recently been deprived of two of its members. The cook + and housemaid both resigned one morning, giving as their reason the fact + that the place was haunted.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “I interviewed the precious pair at the time, and they told me absurd and + various tales about dark figures wandering along the corridors and bending + over them in bed at night, whispering; but their chief trouble was a + continuous ringing of bells about the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Bells?” + </p> + <p> + “They said that it became unbearable. Night and day there were bells + ringing all over the house. At any rate, they went, and for three or four + days the Gables was occupied only by Mr. Maddison and his man, whose name + was Stevens. I interviewed the latter also, and he was an altogether more + reliable witness; a decent, steady sort of man whose story impressed me + very much at the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he confirm the ringing?” + </p> + <p> + “He swore to it—a sort of jangle, sometimes up in the air, near the + ceilings, and sometimes under the floor, like the shaking of silver + bells.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stood up abruptly and began to pace the room, leaving great + trails of blue-gray smoke behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Your story is sufficiently interesting, Inspector,” he declared, “even to + divert my mind from the eternal contemplation of the Fu-Manchu problem. + This would appear to be distinctly a case of an ‘astral bell’ such as we + sometimes hear of in India.” + </p> + <p> + “It was Stevens,” continued Weymouth, “who found Mr. Maddison. He + (Stevens) had been out on business connected with the household + arrangements, and at about eleven o’clock he returned, letting himself in + with a key. There was a light in the library, and getting no response to + his knocking, Stevens entered. He found his master sitting bolt upright in + a chair, clutching the arms with rigid fingers and staring straight before + him with a look of such frightful horror on his face, that Stevens + positively ran from the room and out of the house. Mr. Maddison was stone + dead. When a doctor, who lives at no great distance away, came and + examined him, he could find no trace of violence whatever; he had + apparently died of fright, to judge from the expression on his face.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything else?” + </p> + <p> + “Only this: I learnt, indirectly, that the last member of the Quaker + family to occupy the house had apparently witnessed the apparition, which + had led to his vacating the place. I got the story from the wife of a man + who had been employed as gardener there at that time. The apparition—which + he witnessed in the hallway, if I remember rightly—took the form of + a sort of luminous hand clutching a long, curved knife.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Heavens!” cried Smith, and laughed shortly; “that’s quite in order!” + </p> + <p> + “This gentleman told no one of the occurrence until after he had left the + house, no doubt in order that the place should not acquire an evil + reputation. Most of the original furniture remained, and Mr. Maddison took + the house furnished. I don’t think there can be any doubt that what killed + him was fear at seeing a repetition—” + </p> + <p> + “Of the fiery hand?” concluded Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. Well, I examined the Gables pretty closely, and, with another + Scotland Yard man, spent a night in the empty house. We saw nothing; but + once, very faintly, we heard the ringing of bells.” + </p> + <p> + Smith spun around upon him rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “You can swear to that?” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + “I can swear to it,” declared Weymouth stolidly. “It seemed to be over our + heads. We were sitting in the dining-room. Then it was gone, and we heard + nothing more whatever of an unusual nature. Following the death of Mr. + Maddison, the Gables remained empty until a while ago, when a French + gentleman, name Lejay, leased it—” + </p> + <p> + “Furnished?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; nothing was removed—” + </p> + <p> + “Who kept the place in order?” + </p> + <p> + “A married couple living in the neighborhood undertook to do so. The man + attended to the lawn and so forth, and the woman came once a week, I + believe, to clean up the house.” + </p> + <p> + “And Lejay?” + </p> + <p> + “He came in only last week, having leased the house for six months. His + family were to have joined him in a day or two, and he, with the aid of + the pair I have just mentioned, and assisted by a French servant he + brought over with him, was putting the place in order. At about twelve + o’clock on Friday night this servant ran into a neighboring house + screaming ‘the fiery hand!’ and when at last a constable arrived and a + frightened group went up the avenue of the Gables, they found M. Lejay, + dead in the avenue, near the steps just outside the hall door! He had the + same face of horror...” + </p> + <p> + “What a tale for the press!” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + “The owner has managed to keep it quiet so far, but this time I think it + will leak into the press—yes.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence; then: + </p> + <p> + “And you have been down to the Gables again?” + </p> + <p> + “I was there on Saturday, but there’s not a scrap of evidence. The man + undoubtedly died of fright in the same way as Maddison. The place ought to + be pulled down; it’s unholy.” + </p> + <p> + “Unholy is the word,” I said. “I never heard anything like it. This M. + Lejay had no enemies?—there could be no possible motive?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. He was a business man from Marseilles, and his affairs + necessitated his remaining in or near London for some considerable time; + therefore, he decided to make his headquarters here, temporarily, and + leased the Gables with that intention.” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith was pacing the floor with increasing rapidity; he was + tugging at the lobe of his left ear and his pipe had long since gone out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. THE BELLS + </h2> + <p> + I started to my feet as a tall, bearded man swung open the door and hurled + himself impetuously into the room. He wore a silk hat, which fitted him + very ill, and a black frock coat which did not fit him at all. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, Petrie!” cried the apparition; “I’ve leased the Gables!” + </p> + <p> + It was Nayland Smith! I stared at him in amazement + </p> + <p> + “The first time I have employed a disguise,” continued my friend rapidly, + “since the memorable episode of the false pigtail.” He threw a small brown + leather grip upon the floor. “In case you should care to visit the house, + Petrie, I have brought these things. My tenancy commences to-night!” + </p> + <p> + Two days had elapsed, and I had entirely forgotten the strange story of + the Gables which Inspector Weymouth had related to us; evidently it was + otherwise with my friend, and utterly at a loss for an explanation of his + singular behavior, I stooped mechanically and opened the grip. It + contained an odd assortment of garments, and amongst other things several + gray wigs and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. + </p> + <p> + Kneeling there with this strange litter about me, I looked up amazedly. + Nayland Smith, with the unsuitable silk hat set right upon the back of his + head, was pacing the room excitedly, his fuming pipe protruding from the + tangle of factitious beard. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Petrie,” he began again, rapidly, “I did not entirely trust the + agent. I’ve leased the house in the name of Professor Maxton...” + </p> + <p> + “But, Smith,” I cried, “what possible reason can there be for disguise?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s every reason,” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you interest yourself in the Gables?” + </p> + <p> + “Does no explanation occur to you?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever; to me the whole thing smacks of stark lunacy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won’t come?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve never stuck at anything, Smith,” I replied, “however undignified, + when it has seemed that my presence could be of the slightest use.” + </p> + <p> + As I rose to my feet, Smith stepped in front of me, and the steely gray + eyes shone out strangely from the altered face. He clapped his hands upon + my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “If I assure you that your presence is necessary to my safety,” he said—“that + if you fail me I must seek another companion—will you come?” + </p> + <p> + Intuitively, I knew that he was keeping something back, and I was + conscious of some resentment, but nevertheless my reply was a foregone + conclusion, and—with the borrowed appearance of an extremely untidy + old man—I crept guiltily out of my house that evening and into the + cab which Smith had waiting. + </p> + <p> + The Gables was a roomy and rambling place lying back a considerable + distance from the road. A semicircular drive gave access to the door, and + so densely wooded was the ground, that for the most part the drive was + practically a tunnel—a verdant tunnel. A high brick wall concealed + the building from the point of view of any one on the roadway, but either + horn of the crescent drive terminated at a heavy, wrought-iron gateway. + </p> + <p> + Smith discharged the cab at the corner of the narrow and winding road upon + which the Gables fronted. It was walled in on both sides; on the left the + wall being broken by tradesmen’s entrances to the houses fronting upon + another street, and on the right following, uninterruptedly, the grounds + of the Gables. As we came to the gate: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing now,” said Smith, pointing into the darkness of the road before + us, “except a couple of studios, until one comes to the Heath.” + </p> + <p> + He inserted the key in the lock of the gate and swung it creakingly open. + I looked into the black arch of the avenue, thought of the haunted + residence that lay hidden somewhere beyond, of those who had died in it—especially + of the one who had died there under the trees—and found myself out + of love with the business of the night. + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” said Nayland Smith briskly, holding the gate open; “there + should be a fire in the library and refreshments, if the charwoman has + followed instructions.” + </p> + <p> + I heard the great gate clang to behind us. Even had there been any moon + (and there was none) I doubted if more than a patch or two of light could + have penetrated there. The darkness was extraordinary. Nothing broke it, + and I think Smith must have found his way by the aid of some sixth sense. + At any rate, I saw nothing of the house until I stood some five paces from + the steps leading up to the porch. A light was burning in the hallway, but + dimly and inhospitably; of the facade of the building I could perceive + little. + </p> + <p> + When we entered the hall and the door was closed behind us, I began + wondering anew what purpose my friend hoped to serve by a vigil in this + haunted place. There was a light in the library, the door of which was + ajar, and on the large table were decanters, a siphon, and some biscuits + and sandwiches. A large grip stood upon the floor, also. For some reason + which was a mystery to me, Smith had decided that we must assume false + names whilst under the roof of the Gables; and: + </p> + <p> + “Now, Pearce,” he said, “a whisky-and-soda before we look around?” + </p> + <p> + The proposal was welcome enough, for I felt strangely dispirited, and, to + tell the truth, in my strange disguise, not a little ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + All my nerves, no doubt, were highly strung, and my sense of hearing + unusually acute, for I went in momentary expectation of some uncanny + happening. I had not long to wait. As I raised the glass to my lips and + glanced across the table at my friend, I heard the first faint sound + heralding the coming of the bells. + </p> + <p> + It did not seem to proceed from anywhere within the library, but from some + distant room, far away overhead. A musical sound it was, but breaking in + upon the silence of that ill-omened house, its music was the music of + terror. In a faint and very sweet cascade it rippled; a ringing as of tiny + silver bells. + </p> + <p> + I set down my glass upon the table, and rising slowly from the chair in + which I had been seated, stared fixedly at my companion, who was staring + with equal fixity at me. I could see that I had not been deluded; Nayland + Smith had heard the ringing, too. + </p> + <p> + “The ghosts waste no time!” he said softly. “This is not new to me; I + spent an hour here last night and heard the same sound...” + </p> + <p> + I glanced hastily around the room. It was furnished as a library, and + contained a considerable collection of works, principally novels. I was + unable to judge of the outlook, for the two lofty windows were draped with + heavy purple curtains which were drawn close. A silk shaded lamp swung + from the center of the ceiling, and immediately over the table by which I + stood. There was much shadow about the room; and now I glanced + apprehensively about me, but especially toward the open door. + </p> + <p> + In that breathless suspense of listening we stood awhile; then: + </p> + <p> + “There it is again!” whispered Smith, tensely. + </p> + <p> + The ringing of bells was repeated, and seemingly much nearer to us; in + fact it appeared to come from somewhere above, up near the ceiling of the + room in which we stood. Simultaneously, we looked up, then Smith laughed, + shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Instinctive, I suppose,” he snapped; “but what do we expect to see in the + air?” + </p> + <p> + The musical sound now grew in volume; the first tiny peal seemed to be + reinforced by others and by others again, until the air around about us + was filled with the pealings of these invisible bell-ringers. + </p> + <p> + Although, as I have said, the sound was rather musical than horrible, it + was, on the other hand, so utterly unaccountable as to touch the supreme + heights of the uncanny. I could not doubt that our presence had attracted + these unseen ringers to the room in which we stood, and I knew quite well + that I was growing pale. This was the room in which at least one unhappy + occupant of the Gables had died of fear. I recognized the fact that if + this mere overture were going to affect my nerves to such an extent, I + could not hope to survive the ordeal of the night; a great effort was + called for. I emptied my glass at a gulp, and stared across the table at + Nayland Smith with a sort of defiance. He was standing very upright and + motionless, but his eyes were turning right and left, searching every + visible corner of the big room. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he said in a very low voice. “The terrorizing power of the Unknown + is boundless, but we must not get in the grip of panic, or we could not + hope to remain in this house ten minutes.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded without speaking. Then Smith, to my amazement, suddenly began to + speak in a loud voice, a marked contrast to that, almost a whisper, in + which he had spoken formerly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Pearce,” he cried, “do you hear the ringing of bells?” + </p> + <p> + Clearly the latter words were spoken for the benefit of the unseen + intelligence controlling these manifestations; and although I regarded + such finesse as somewhat wasted, I followed my friend’s lead and replied + in a voice as loud as his own: + </p> + <p> + “Distinctly, Professor!” + </p> + <p> + Silence followed my words, a silence in which both stood watchful and + listening. Then, very faintly, I seemed to detect the silvern ringing + receding away through distant rooms. Finally it became inaudible, and in + the stillness of the Gables I could distinctly hear my companion + breathing. For fully ten minutes we two remained thus, each momentarily + expecting a repetition of the ringing, or the coming of some new and more + sinister manifestation. But we heard nothing and saw nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Hand me that grip, and don’t stir until I come back!” hissed Smith in my + ear. + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked out of the library, his boots creaking very loudly in + that awe-inspiring silence. + </p> + <p> + Standing beside the table, I watched the open door for his return, + crushing down a dread that another form than his might suddenly appear + there. + </p> + <p> + I could hear him moving from room to room, and presently, as I waited in + hushed, tense watchfulness, he came in, depositing the grip upon the + table. His eyes were gleaming feverishly. + </p> + <p> + “The house is haunted, Pearce!” he cried. “But no ghost ever frightened + me! Come, I will show you your room.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. THE FIERY HAND + </h2> + <p> + Smith walked ahead of me upstairs; he had snapped up the light in the + hallway, and now he turned and cried back loudly: + </p> + <p> + “I fear we should never get servants to stay here.” + </p> + <p> + Again I detected the appeal to a hidden Audience; and there was something + very uncanny in the idea. The house now was deathly still; the ringing had + entirely subsided. In the upper corridor my companion, who seemed to be + well acquainted with the position of the switches, again turned up all the + lights, and in pursuit of the strange comedy which he saw fit to enact, + addressed me continuously in the loud and unnatural voice which he had + adopted as part of his disguise. + </p> + <p> + We looked into a number of rooms all well and comfortably furnished, but + although my imagination may have been responsible for the idea, they all + seemed to possess a chilly and repellent atmosphere. I felt that to essay + sleep in any one of them would be the merest farce, that the place to all + intents and purposes was uninhabitable, that something incalculably evil + presided over the house. + </p> + <p> + And through it all, so obtuse was I, that no glimmer of the truth entered + my mind. Outside again in the long, brightly lighted corridor, we stood + for a moment as if a mutual anticipation of some new event pending had + come to us. It was curious that sudden pulling up and silent questioning + of one another; because, although we acted thus, no sound had reached us. + A few seconds later our anticipation was realized. From the direction of + the stairs it came—a low wailing in a woman’s voice; and the + sweetness of the tones added to the terror of the sound. I clutched at + Smith’s arm convulsively whilst that uncanny cry rose and fell—rose + and fell—and died away. + </p> + <p> + Neither of us moved immediately. My mind was working with feverish + rapidity and seeking to run down a memory which the sound had stirred into + faint quickness. My heart was still leaping wildly when the wailing began + again, rising and falling in regular cadence. At that instant I identified + it. + </p> + <p> + During the time Smith and I had spent together in Egypt, two years before, + searching for Karamaneh, I had found myself on one occasion in the + neighborhood of a native cemetery near to Bedrasheen. Now, the scene which + I had witnessed there rose up again vividly before me, and I seemed to see + a little group of black-robed women clustered together about a native + grave; for the wailing which now was dying away again in the Gables was + the same, or almost the same, as the wailing of those Egyptian mourners. + </p> + <p> + The house was very silent again, now. My forehead was damp with + perspiration, and I became more and more convinced that the uncanny ordeal + must prove too much for my nerves. Hitherto, I had accorded little + credence to tales of the supernatural, but face to face with such + manifestations as these, I realized that I would have faced rather a group + of armed dacoits, nay! Dr. Fu-Manchu himself, than have remained another + hour in that ill-omened house. + </p> + <p> + My companion must have read as much in my face. But he kept up the + strange, and to me, purposeless comedy, when presently he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I feel it to be incumbent upon me to suggest,” he said, “that we spend + the night at a hotel after all.” + </p> + <p> + He walked rapidly downstairs and into the library and began to strap up + the grip. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he said, “there may be a natural explanation of what we’ve + heard; for it is noteworthy that we have actually seen nothing. It might + even be possible to get used to the ringing and the wailing after a time. + Frankly, I am loath to go back on my bargain!” + </p> + <p> + Whilst I stared at him in amazement, he stood there indeterminate as it + seemed, Then: + </p> + <p> + “Come, Pearce!” he cried loudly, “I can see that you do not share my + views; but for my own part I shall return to-morrow and devote further + attention to the phenomena.” + </p> + <p> + Extinguishing the light, he walked out into the hallway, carrying the grip + in his hand. I was not far behind him. We walked toward the door together, + and: + </p> + <p> + “Turn the light out, Pearce,” directed Smith; “the switch is at your + elbow. We can see our way to the door well enough, now.” + </p> + <p> + In order to carry out these instructions, it became necessary for me to + remain a few paces in the rear of my companion, and I think I have never + experienced such a pang of nameless terror as pierced me at the moment of + extinguishing the light; for Smith had not yet opened the door, and the + utter darkness of the Gables was horrible beyond expression. Surely + darkness is the most potent weapon of the Unknown. I know that at the + moment my hand left the switch, I made for the door as though the hosts of + hell pursued me. I collided violently with Smith. He was evidently facing + toward me in the darkness, for at the moment of our collision, he grasped + my shoulder as in a vise. + </p> + <p> + “My God, Petrie! look behind you!” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + I was enabled to judge of the extent and reality of his fear by the fact + that the strange subterfuge of addressing me always as Pearce was + forgotten. I turned, in a flash.... + </p> + <p> + Never can I forget what I saw. Many strange and terrible memories are + mine, memories stranger and more terrible than those of the average man; + but this thing which now moved slowly down upon us through the + impenetrable gloom of that haunted place, was (if the term be understood) + almost absurdly horrible. It was a medieval legend come to life in modern + London; it was as though some horrible chimera of the black and ignorant + past was become create and potent in the present. + </p> + <p> + A luminous hand—a hand in the veins of which fire seemed to run so + that the texture of the skin and the shape of the bones within were + perceptible—in short a hand of glowing, fiery flesh clutching a + short knife or dagger which also glowed with the same hellish, internal + luminance, was advancing upon us where we stood—was not three paces + removed! + </p> + <p> + What I did or how I came to do it, I can never recall. In all my years I + have experienced nothing to equal the stark panic which seized upon me + then. I know that I uttered a loud and frenzied cry; I know that I tore + myself like a madman from Smith’s restraining grip... + </p> + <p> + “Don’t touch it! Keep away, for your life!” I heard... + </p> + <p> + But, dimly I recollect that, finding the thing approaching yet nearer, I + lashed out with my fists—madly, blindly—and struck something + palpable... + </p> + <p> + What was the result, I cannot say. At that point my recollections merge + into confusion. Something or some one (Smith, as I afterwards discovered) + was hauling me by main force through the darkness; I fell a considerable + distance onto gravel which lacerated my hands and gashed my knees. Then, + with the cool night air fanning my brow, I was running, running—my + breath coming in hysterical sobs. Beside me fled another figure.... And my + definite recollections commence again at that point. For this companion of + my flight from the Gables threw himself roughly against me to alter my + course. + </p> + <p> + “Not that way! not that way!” came pantingly. + </p> + <p> + “Not on to the Heath... we must keep to the roads...” + </p> + <p> + It was Nayland Smith. That healing realization came to me, bringing such a + gladness as no words of mine can express nor convey. Still we ran on. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a policeman’s lantern,” panted my companion. “They’ll attempt + nothing, now!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + I gulped down the stiff brandy-and-soda, then glanced across to where + Nayland Smith lay extended in the long, cane chair. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will explain,” I said, “for what purpose you submitted me to + that ordeal. If you proposed to correct my skepticism concerning + supernatural manifestations, you have succeeded.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said my companion, musingly, “they are devilishly clever; but we + knew that already.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at him, fatuously. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever known me to waste my time when there was important work to + do?” he continued. “Do you seriously believe that my ghost-hunting was + undertaken for amusement? Really, Petrie, although you are very fond of + assuring me that I need a holiday, I think the shoe is on the other foot!” + </p> + <p> + From the pocket of his dressing-gown, he took out a piece of silk fringe + which had apparently been torn from a scarf, and rolling it into a ball, + tossed it across to me. + </p> + <p> + “Smell!” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + I did as he directed—and gave a great start. The silk exhaled a + faint perfume, but its effect upon me was as though some one had cried + aloud:— + </p> + <p> + “Karamaneh!” + </p> + <p> + Beyond doubt the silken fragment had belonged to the beautiful servant of + Dr. Fu-Manchu, to the dark-eyed, seductive Karamaneh. Nayland Smith was + watching me keenly. + </p> + <p> + “You recognize it—yes?” + </p> + <p> + I placed the piece of silk upon the table, slightly shrugging my + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “It was sufficient evidence in itself,” continued my friend, “but I + thought it better to seek confirmation, and the obvious way was to pose as + a new lessee of the Gables...” + </p> + <p> + “But, Smith,” I began... + </p> + <p> + “Let me explain, Petrie. The history of the Gables seemed to be + susceptible of only one explanation; in short it was fairly evident to me + that the object of the manifestations was to insure the place being kept + empty. This idea suggested another, and with them both in mind, I set out + to make my inquiries, first taking the precaution to disguise my identity, + to which end Weymouth gave me the freedom of Scotland Yard’s fancy + wardrobe. I did not take the agent into my confidence, but posed as a + stranger who had heard that the house was to let furnished and thought it + might suit his purpose. My inquiries were directed to a particular end, + but I failed to achieve it at the time. I had theories, as I have said, + and when, having paid the deposit and secured possession of the keys, I + was enabled to visit the place alone, I was fortunate enough to obtain + evidence to show that my imagination had not misled me. + </p> + <p> + “You were very curious the other morning, I recall, respecting my object + in borrowing a large brace and bit. My object, Petrie, was to bore a + series of holes in the wainscoating of various rooms at the Gables—in + inconspicuous positions, of course...” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Smith!” I cried, “you are merely adding to my + mystification.” + </p> + <p> + He stood up and began to pace the room in his restless fashion. + </p> + <p> + “I had cross-examined Weymouth closely regarding the phenomenon of the + bell-ringing, and an exhaustive search of the premises led to the + discovery that the house was in such excellent condition that, from + ground-floor to attic, there was not a solitary crevice large enough to + admit of the passage of a mouse.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I must have been staring very foolishly indeed, for Nayland + Smith burst into one of his sudden laughs. + </p> + <p> + “A mouse, I said, Petrie!” he cried. “With the brace-and-bit I rectified + that matter. I made the holes I have mentioned, and before each set a trap + baited with a piece of succulent, toasted cheese. Just open that grip!” + </p> + <p> + The light at last was dawning upon my mental darkness, and I pounced upon + the grip, which stood upon a chair near the window, and opened it. A + sickly smell of cooked cheese assailed my nostrils. + </p> + <p> + “Mind your fingers!” cried Smith; “some of them are still set, possibly.” + </p> + <p> + Out from the grip I began to take mouse-traps! Two or three of them were + still set but in the case of the greater number the catches had slipped. + Nine I took out and placed upon the table, and all were empty. In the + tenth there crouched, panting, its soft furry body dank with perspiration, + a little white mouse! + </p> + <p> + “Only one capture!” cried my companion, “showing how well-fed the + creatures were. Examine his tail!” + </p> + <p> + But already I had perceived that to which Smith would draw my attention, + and the mystery of the “astral bells” was a mystery no longer. Bound to + the little creature’s tail, close to the root, with fine soft wire such as + is used for making up bouquets, were three tiny silver bells. I looked + across at my companion in speechless surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Almost childish, is it not?” he said; “yet by means of this simple device + the Gables has been emptied of occupant after occupant. There was small + chance of the trick being detected, for, as I have said, there was + absolutely no aperture from roof to basement by means of which one of them + could have escaped into the building.” + </p> + <p> + “Then...” + </p> + <p> + “They were admitted into the wall cavities and the rafters, from some + cellar underneath, Petrie, to which, after a brief scamper under the + floors and over the ceilings, they instinctively returned for the food + they were accustomed to receive, and for which, even had it been possible + (which it was not) they had no occasion to forage.” + </p> + <p> + I, too, stood up; for excitement was growing within me. I took up the + piece of silk from the table. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you find this?” I asked, my eyes upon Smith’s keen face. + </p> + <p> + “In a sort of wine cellar, Petrie,” he replied, “under the stair. There is + no cellar proper to the Gables—at least no such cellar appears in + the plans.” + </p> + <p> + “But...” + </p> + <p> + “But there is one beyond doubt—yes! It must be part of some older + building which occupied the site before the Gables was built. One can only + surmise that it exists, although such a surmise is a fairly safe one, and + the entrance to the subterranean portion of the building is situated + beyond doubt in the wine cellar. Of this we have at least two evidences:—the + finding of the fragment of silk there, and the fact that in one case at + least—as I learned—the light was extinguished in the library + unaccountably. This could only have been done in one way: by manipulating + the main switch, which is also in the wine cellar.” + </p> + <p> + “But Smith!” I cried, “do you mean that Fu-Manchu...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith turned in his promenade of the floor, and stared into my + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that Dr. Fu-Manchu has had a hiding-place under the Gables for an + indefinite period!” he replied. “I always suspected that a man of his + genius would have a second retreat prepared for him, anticipating the + event of the first being discovered. Oh! I don’t doubt it! The place + probably is extensive, and I am almost certain—though the point has + to be confirmed—that there is another entrance from the studio + further along the road. We know, now, why our recent searchings in the + East End have proved futile; why the house in Museum Street was deserted; + he has been lying low in this burrow at Hampstead!” + </p> + <p> + “But the hand, Smith, the luminous hand...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Your superstitious fears overcame you to such an extent, Petrie—and + I don’t wonder at it; the sight was a ghastly one—that probably you + don’t remember what occurred when you struck out at that same ghostly + hand?” + </p> + <p> + “I seemed to hit something.” + </p> + <p> + “That was why we ran. But I think our retreat had all the appearance of a + rout, as I intended that it should. Pardon my playing upon your very + natural fears, old man, but you could not have simulated panic half so + naturally! And if they had suspected that the device was discovered, we + might never have quitted the Gables alive. It was touch-and-go for a + moment.” + </p> + <p> + “But...” + </p> + <p> + “Turn out the light!” snapped my companion. + </p> + <p> + Wondering greatly, I did as he desired. I turned out the light... and in + the darkness of my own study I saw a fiery fist being shaken at me + threateningly!... The bones were distinctly visible, and the luminosity of + the flesh was truly ghastly. + </p> + <p> + “Turn on the light, again!” cried Smith. + </p> + <p> + Deeply mystified, I did so... and my friend tossed a little electric + pocket-lamp on to the writing-table. + </p> + <p> + “They used merely a small electric lamp fitted into the handle of a glass + dagger,” he said with a sort of contempt. “It was very effective, but the + luminous hand is a phenomenon producible by any one who possesses an + electric torch.” + </p> + <p> + “The Gables—will be watched?” + </p> + <p> + “At last, Petrie, I think we have Fu-Manchu—in his own trap!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. THE NIGHT OF THE RAID + </h2> + <p> + “Dash it all, Petrie!” cried Smith, “this is most annoying!” + </p> + <p> + The bell was ringing furiously, although midnight was long past. Whom + could my late visitor be? Almost certainly this ringing portended an + urgent case. In other words, I was not fated to take part in what I + anticipated would prove to be the closing scene of the Fu-Manchu drama. + </p> + <p> + “Every one is in bed,” I said, ruefully; “and how can I possibly see a + patient—in this costume?” + </p> + <p> + Smith and I were both arrayed in rough tweeds, and anticipating the labors + before us, had dispensed with collars and wore soft mufflers. It was hard + to be called upon to face a professional interview dressed thus, and + having a big tweed cap pulled down over my eyes. + </p> + <p> + Across the writing-table we confronted one another in dismayed silence, + whilst, below, the bell sent up its ceaseless clangor. + </p> + <p> + “It has to be done, Smith,” I said, regretfully. “Almost certainly it + means a journey and probably an absence of some hours.” + </p> + <p> + I threw my cap upon the table, turned up my coat to hide the absence of + collar, and started for the door. My last sight of Smith showed him + standing looking after me, tugging at the lobe of his ear and clicking his + teeth together with suppressed irritability. I stumbled down the dark + stairs, along the hall, and opened the front door. Vaguely visible in the + light of a street lamp which stood at no great distance away, I saw a + slender man of medium height confronting me. From the shadowed face two + large and luminous eyes looked out into mine. My visitor, who, despite the + warmth of the evening, wore a heavy greatcoat, was an Oriental! + </p> + <p> + I drew back, apprehensively; then: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Dr. Petrie!” he said in a softly musical voice which made me start + again, “to God be all praise that I have found you!” + </p> + <p> + Some emotion, which at present I could not define, was stirring within me. + Where had I seen this graceful Eastern youth before? Where had I heard + that soft voice? + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to see me professionally?” I asked—yet even as I put + the question, I seemed to know it unnecessary. + </p> + <p> + “So you know me no more?” said the stranger—and his teeth gleamed in + a slight smile. + </p> + <p> + Heavens! I knew now what had struck that vibrant chord within me! The + voice, though infinitely deeper, yet had an unmistakable resemblance to + the dulcet tones of Karamaneh—of Karamaneh whose eyes haunted my + dreams, whose beauty had done much to embitter my years. + </p> + <p> + The Oriental youth stepped forward, with outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + “So you know me no more?” he repeated; “but I know you, and give praise to + Allah that I have found you!” + </p> + <p> + I stepped back, pressed the electric switch, and turned, with leaping + heart, to look into the face of my visitor. It was a face of the purest + Greek beauty, a face that might have served as a model for Praxiteles; the + skin had a golden pallor, which, with the crisp black hair and magnetic + yet velvety eyes, suggested to my fancy that this was the young Antinious + risen from the Nile, whose wraith now appeared to me out of the night. I + stifled a cry of surprise, not unmingled with gladness. + </p> + <p> + It was Aziz—the brother of Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + Never could the entrance of a figure upon the stage of a drama have been + more dramatic than the coming of Aziz upon this night of all nights. I + seized the outstretched hand and drew him forward, then reclosed the door + and stood before him a moment in doubt. + </p> + <p> + A vaguely troubled look momentarily crossed the handsome face; with the + Oriental’s unerring instinct, he had detected the reserve of my greeting. + Yet, when I thought of the treachery of Karamaneh, when I remember how + she, whom we had befriended, whom we had rescued from the house of + Fu-Manchu, now had turned like the beautiful viper that she was to strike + at the hand that caressed her; when I thought how to-night we were set + upon raiding the place where the evil Chinese doctor lurked in hiding, + were set upon the arrest of that malignant genius and of all his + creatures, Karamaneh amongst them, is it strange that I hesitated? Yet, + again, when I thought of my last meeting with her, and of how, twice, she + had risked her life to save me... + </p> + <p> + So, avoiding the gaze of the lad, I took his arm, and in silence we two + ascended the stairs and entered my study... where Nayland Smith stood bolt + upright beside the table, his steely eyes fixed upon the face of the new + arrival. + </p> + <p> + No look of recognition crossed the bronzed features, and Aziz who had + started forward with outstretched hands, fell back a step and looked + pathetically from me to Nayland Smith, and from the grim commissioner back + again to me. The appeal in the velvet eyes was more than I could tolerate, + unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “Smith,” I said shortly, “you remember Aziz?” + </p> + <p> + Not a muscle visibly moved in Smith’s face, as he snapped back: + </p> + <p> + “I remember him perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “He has come, I think, to seek our assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” cried Aziz laying his hand upon my arm with a gesture + painfully reminiscent of Karamaneh—“I came only to-night to London. + Oh, my gentlemen! I have searched, and searched, and searched, until I am + weary. Often I have wished to die. And then at last I come to Rangoon...” + </p> + <p> + “To Rangoon!” snapped Smith, still with the gray eyes fixed almost + fiercely upon the lad’s face. + </p> + <p> + “To Rangoon—yes; and there I heard news at last. I hear that you + have seen her—have seen Karamaneh—that you are back in + London.” He was not entirely at home with his English. “I know then that + she must be here, too. I ask them everywhere, and they answer ‘yes.’ Oh, + Smith Pasha!”—he stepped forward and impulsively seized both Smith’s + hands—“You know where she is—take me to her!” + </p> + <p> + Smith’s face was a study in perplexity, now. In the past we had befriended + the young Aziz, and it was hard to look upon him in the light of an enemy. + Yet had we not equally befriended his sister?—and she... + </p> + <p> + At last Smith glanced across at me where I stood just within the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “What do you make of it, Petrie?” he said harshly. “Personally I take it + to mean that our plans have leaked out.” He sprang suddenly back from Aziz + and I saw his glance traveling rapidly over the slight figure as if in + quest of concealed arms. “I take it to be a trap!” + </p> + <p> + A moment he stood so, regarding him, and despite my well-grounded distrust + of the Oriental character, I could have sworn that the expression of + pained surprise upon the youth’s face was not simulated but real. Even + Smith, I think, began to share my view; for suddenly he threw himself into + the white cane rest-chair, and, still fixedly regarding Aziz: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I have wronged you,” he said. “If I have, you shall know the + reason presently. Tell your own story!” + </p> + <p> + There was a pathetic humidity in the velvet eyes of Aziz—eyes so + like those others that were ever looking into mine in dreams—as + glancing from Smith to me he began, hands outstretched, + characteristically, palms upward and fingers curling, to tell in broken + English the story of his search for Karamaneh... + </p> + <p> + “It was Fu-Manchu, my kind gentlemen—it was the hakim who is really + not a man at all, but an efreet. He found us again less than four days + after you had left us, Smith Pasha!... He found us in Cairo, and to + Karamaneh he made the forgetting of all things—even of me—even + of me...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith snapped his teeth together sharply; then: + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + For my own part I understood well enough, remembering how the brilliant + Chinese doctor once had performed such an operation as this upon poor + Inspector Weymouth; how, by means of an injection of some serum prepared + (as Karamaneh afterwards told us) from the venom of a swamp adder or + similar reptile, he had induced amnesia, or complete loss of memory. I + felt every drop of blood recede from my cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I began... + </p> + <p> + “Let him speak for himself,” interrupted my friend sharply. + </p> + <p> + “They tried to take us both,” continued Aziz still speaking in that soft, + melodious manner, but with deep seriousness. “I escaped, I, who am swift + of foot, hoping to bring help.”—He shook his head sadly—“But, + except the All Powerful, who is so powerful as the Hakim Fu-Manchu? I hid, + my gentlemen, and watched and waited, one—two—three weeks. At + last I saw her again, my sister, Karamaneh; but ah! she did not know me, + did not know me, Aziz her brother! She was in an arabeeyeh, and passed me + quickly along the Sharia en-Nahhasin. I ran, and ran, and ran, crying her + name, but although she looked back, she did not know me—she did not + know me! I felt that I was dying, and presently I fell—upon the + steps of the Mosque of Abu.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped the expressive hands wearily to his sides and sank his chin + upon his breast. + </p> + <p> + “And then?” I said, huskily—for my heart was fluttering like a + captive bird. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! from that day to this I see her no more, my gentlemen. I travel, + not only in Egypt, but near and far, and still I see her no more until in + Rangoon I hear that which brings me to England again”—he extended + his palms naively—“and here I am—Smith Pasha.” + </p> + <p> + Smith sprang upright again and turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Either I am growing over-credulous,” he said, “or Aziz speaks the truth. + But”—he held up his hand—“you can tell me all that at some + other time, Petrie! We must take no chances. Sergeant Carter is downstairs + with the cab; you might ask him to step up. He and Aziz can remain here + until our return.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SAMURAI’S SWORD + </h2> + <p> + The muffled drumming of sleepless London seemed very remote from us, as + side by side we crept up the narrow path to the studio. This was a starry + but moonless night, and the little dingy white building with a solitary + tree peeping, in silhouette, above the glazed roof, bore an odd + resemblance to one of those tombs which form a city of the dead so near to + the city of feverish life on the slopes of the Mokattam Hills. This line + of reflection proved unpleasant, and I dismissed it sternly from my mind. + </p> + <p> + The shriek of a train-whistle reached me, a sound which breaks the + stillness of the most silent London night, telling of the ceaseless, + febrile life of the great world-capital whose activity ceases not with the + coming of darkness. Around and about us a very great stillness reigned, + however, and the velvet dusk which, with the star-jeweled sky, was + strongly suggestive of an Eastern night—gave up no sign to show that + it masked the presence of more than twenty men. Some distance away on our + right was the Gables, that sinister and deserted mansion which we assumed, + and with good reason, to be nothing less than the gateway to the + subterranean abode of Dr. Fu-Manchu; before us was the studio, which, if + Nayland Smith’s deductions were accurate, concealed a second entrance to + the same mysterious dwelling. + </p> + <p> + As my friend, glancing cautiously all about him, inserted the key in the + lock, an owl hooted dismally almost immediately above our heads. I caught + my breath sharply, for it might be a signal; but, looking upward, I saw a + great black shape float slantingly from the tree beyond the studio into + the coppice on the right which hemmed in the Gables. Silently the owl + winged its uncanny flight into the greater darkness of the trees, and was + gone. Smith opened the door and we stepped into the studio. Our plans had + been well considered, and in accordance with these, I now moved up beside + my friend, who was dimly perceptible to me in the starlight which found + access through the glass roof, and pressed the catch of my electric + pocket-lamp... + </p> + <p> + I suppose that by virtue of my self-imposed duty as chronicler of the + deeds of Dr. Fu-Manchu—the greatest and most evil genius whom the + later centuries have produced, the man who dreamt of an universal Yellow + Empire—I should have acquired a certain facility in describing + bizarre happenings. But I confess that it fails me now as I attempt in + cold English to portray my emotions when the white beam from the little + lamp cut through the darkness of the studio, and shone fully upon the + beautiful face of Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + Less than six feet away from me she stood, arrayed in the gauzy dress of + the harem, her fingers and slim white arms laden with barbaric jewelry! + The light wavered in my suddenly nerveless hand, gleaming momentarily upon + bare ankles and golden anklets, upon little red leather shoes. + </p> + <p> + I spoke no word, and Smith was as silent as I; both of us, I think, were + speechless rather from amazement than in obedience to the evident wishes + of Fu-Manchu’s slave-girl. Yet I have only to close my eyes at this moment + to see her as she stood, one finger raised to her lips, enjoining us to + silence. She looked ghastly pale in the light of the lamp, but so lovely + that my rebellious heart threatened already, to make a fool of me. + </p> + <p> + So we stood in that untidy studio, with canvases and easels heaped against + the wall and with all sorts of litter about us, a trio strangely met, and + one to have amused the high gods watching through the windows of the + stars. + </p> + <p> + “Go back!” came in a whisper from Karamaneh. + </p> + <p> + I saw the red lips moving and read a dreadful horror in the widely opened + eyes, in those eyes like pools of mystery to taunt the thirsty soul. The + world of realities was slipping past me; I seemed to be losing my hold on + things actual; I had built up an Eastern palace about myself and Karamaneh + wherein, the world shut out, I might pass the hours in reading the mystery + of those dark eyes. Nayland Smith brought me sharply to my senses. + </p> + <p> + “Steady with the light, Petrie!” he hissed in my ear. “My skepticism has + been shaken, to-night, but I am taking no chances.” + </p> + <p> + He moved from my side and forward toward that lovely, unreal figure which + stood immediately before the model’s throne and its background of plush + curtains. Karamaneh started forward to meet him, suppressing a little cry, + whose real anguish could not have been simulated. + </p> + <p> + “Go back! go back!” she whispered urgently, and thrust out her hands + against Smith’s breast. “For God’s sake, go back! I have risked my life to + come here to-night. He knows, and is ready!”... + </p> + <p> + The words were spoken with passionate intensity, and Nayland Smith + hesitated. To my nostrils was wafted that faint, delightful perfume which, + since one night, two years ago, it had come to disturb my senses, had + taunted me many times as the mirage taunts the parched Sahara traveler. I + took a step forward. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t move!” snapped Smith. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh clutched frenziedly at the lapels of his coat. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me!” she said, beseechingly and stamped one little foot upon + the floor—“listen to me! You are a clever man, but you know nothing + of a woman’s heart—nothing—nothing—if seeing me, hearing + me, knowing, as you do know, I risk, you can doubt that I speak the truth. + And I tell you that it is death to go behind those curtains—that + he...” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I wanted to know!” snapped Smith. His voice quivered with + excitement. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly grasping Karamaneh by the waist, he lifted her and set her aside; + then in three bounds he was on to the model’s throne and had torn the + Plush curtains bodily from their fastenings. + </p> + <p> + How it occurred I cannot hope to make dear, for here my recollections + merge into a chaos. I know that Smith seemed to topple forward amid the + purple billows of velvet, and his muffled cry came to me: + </p> + <p> + “Petrie! My God, Petrie!”... + </p> + <p> + The pale face of Karamaneh looked up into mine and her hands were + clutching me, but the glamour of her personality had lost its hold, for I + knew—heavens, how poignantly it struck home to me!—that + Nayland Smith was gone to his death. What I hoped to achieve, I know not, + but hurling the trembling girl aside, I snatched the Browning pistol from + my coat pocket, and with the ray of the lamp directed upon the purple + mound of velvet, I leaped forward. + </p> + <p> + I think I realized that the curtains had masked a collapsible trap, a + sheer pit of blackness, an instant before I was precipitated into it, but + certainly the knowledge came too late. With the sound of a soft, + shuddering cry in my ears, I fell, dropping lamp and pistol, and clutching + at the fallen hangings. But they offered me no support. My head seemed to + be bursting; I could utter only a hoarse groan, as I fell—fell—fell... + </p> + <p> + When my mind began to work again, in returning consciousness, I found it + to be laden with reproach. How often in the past had we blindly hurled + ourselves into just such a trap as this? Should we never learn that where + Fu-Manchu was, impetuosity must prove fatal? On two distinct occasions in + the past we had been made the victims of this device, yet even although we + had had practically conclusive evidence that this studio was used by Dr. + Fu-Manchu, we had relied upon its floor being as secure as that of any + other studio, we had failed to sound every foot of it ere trusting our + weight to its support.... + </p> + <p> + “There is such a divine simplicity in the English mind that one may lay + one’s plans with mathematical precision, and rely upon the Nayland Smiths + and Dr. Petries to play their allotted parts. Excepting two faithful + followers, my friends are long since departed. But here, in these vaults + which time has overlooked and which are as secret and as serviceable + to-day as they were two hundred years ago, I wait patiently, with my trap + set, like the spider for the fly!...” + </p> + <p> + To the sound of that taunting voice, I opened my eyes. As I did so I + strove to spring upright—only to realize that I was tied fast to a + heavy ebony chair inlaid with ivory, and attached by means of two iron + brackets to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Even children learn from experience,” continued the unforgettable voice, + alternately guttural and sibilant, but always as deliberate as though the + speaker were choosing with care words which should perfectly clothe his + thoughts. “For ‘a burnt child fears the fire,’ says your English adage. + But Mr. Commissioner Nayland Smith, who enjoys the confidence of the India + Office, and who is empowered to control the movements of the Criminal + Investigation Department, learns nothing from experience. He is less than + a child, since he has twice rashly precipitated himself into a chamber + charged with an anesthetic prepared, by a process of my own, from the + lycoperdon or Common Puff-ball.” + </p> + <p> + I became fully master of my senses, and I became fully alive to a + stupendous fact. At last it was ended; we were utterly in the power of Dr. + Fu-Manchu; our race was run. + </p> + <p> + I sat in a low vaulted room. The roof was of ancient brickwork, but the + walls were draped with exquisite Chinese fabric having a green ground + whereon was a design representing a grotesque procession of white + peacocks. A green carpet covered the floor, and the whole of the furniture + was of the same material as the chair to which I was strapped, viz:—ebony + inlaid with ivory. This furniture was scanty. There was a heavy table in + one corner of the dungeonesque place, on which were a number of books and + papers. Before this table was a high-backed, heavily carven chair. A + smaller table stood upon the right of the only visible opening, a low door + partially draped with bead work curtains, above which hung a silver lamp. + On this smaller table, a stick of incense, in a silver holder, sent up a + pencil of vapor into the air, and the chamber was loaded with the sickly + sweet fumes. A faint haze from the incense-stick hovered up under the + roof. + </p> + <p> + In the high-backed chair sat Dr. Fu-Manchu, wearing a green robe upon + which was embroidered a design, the subject of which at first glance was + not perceptible, but which presently I made out to be a huge white + peacock. He wore a little cap perched upon the dome of his amazing skull, + and with one clawish hand resting upon the ebony of the table, he sat + slightly turned toward me, his emotionless face a mask of incredible evil. + In spite of, or because of, the high intellect written upon it, the face + of Dr. Fu-Manchu was more utterly repellent than any I have ever known, + and the green eyes, eyes green as those of a cat in the darkness, which + sometimes burned like witch lamps, and sometimes were horribly filmed like + nothing human or imaginable, might have mirrored not a soul, but an + emanation of hell, incarnate in this gaunt, high-shouldered body. + </p> + <p> + Stretched flat upon the floor lay Nayland Smith, partially stripped, his + arms thrown back over his head and his wrists chained to a stout iron + staple attached to the wall; he was fully conscious and staring intently + at the Chinese doctor. His bare ankles also were manacled, and fixed to a + second chain, which quivered tautly across the green carpet and passed out + through the doorway, being attached to something beyond the curtain, and + invisible to me from where I sat. + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu was now silent. I could hear Smith’s heavy breathing and hear my + watch ticking in my pocket. I suddenly realized that although my body was + lashed to the ebony chair, my hands and arms were free. Next, looking + dazedly about me, my attention was drawn to a heavy sword which stood hilt + upward against the wall within reach of my hand. It was a magnificent + piece, of Japanese workmanship; a long, curved Damascened blade having a + double-handed hilt of steel, inlaid with gold, and resembling fine Kuft + work. A host of possibilities swept through my mind. Then I perceived that + the sword was attached to the wall by a thin steel chain some five feet in + length. + </p> + <p> + “Even if you had the dexterity of a Mexican knife-thrower,” came the + guttural voice of Fu-Manchu, “you would be unable to reach me, dear Dr. + Petrie.” + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman had read my thoughts. + </p> + <p> + Smith turned his eyes upon me momentarily, only to look away again in the + direction of Fu-Manchu. My friend’s face was slightly pale beneath the + tan, and his jaw muscles stood out with unusual prominence. By this fact + alone did he reveal his knowledge that he lay at the mercy of this enemy + of the white race, of this inhuman being who himself knew no mercy, of + this man whose very genius was inspired by the cool, calculated cruelty of + his race, of that race which to this day disposes of hundreds, nay! + thousands, of its unwanted girl-children by the simple measure of throwing + them down a well specially dedicated to the purpose. + </p> + <p> + “The weapon near your hand,” continued the Chinaman, imperturbably, “is a + product of the civilization of our near neighbors, the Japanese, a race to + whose courage I prostrate myself in meekness. It is the sword of a + samurai, Dr. Petrie. It is of very great age, and was, until an + unfortunate misunderstanding with myself led to the extinction of the + family, a treasured possession of a noble Japanese house...” + </p> + <p> + The soft voice, into which an occasional sibilance crept, but which never + rose above a cool monotone, gradually was lashing me into fury, and I + could see the muscles moving in Smith’s jaws as he convulsively clenched + his teeth; whereby I knew that, impotent, he burned with a rage at least + as great as mine. But I did not speak, and did not move. + </p> + <p> + “The ancient tradition of seppuku,” continued the Chinaman, “or hara-kiri, + still rules, as you know, in the great families of Japan. There is a + sacred ritual, and the samurai who dedicates himself to this honorable + end, must follow strictly the ritual. As a physician, the exact nature of + the ceremony might possibly interest you, Dr. Petrie, but a technical + account of the two incisions which the sacrificant employs in his + self-dismissal, might, on the other hand, bore Mr. Nayland Smith. + Therefore I will merely enlighten you upon one little point, a minor one, + but interesting to the student of human nature. In short, even a samurai—and + no braver race has ever honored the world—sometimes hesitates to + complete the operation. The weapon near to your hand, my dear Dr. Petrie, + is known as the Friend’s Sword. On such occasions as we are discussing, a + trusty friend is given the post—an honored one of standing behind + the brave man who offers himself to his gods, and should the latter’s + courage momentarily fail him, the friend with the trusty blade (to which + now I especially direct your attention) diverts the hierophant’s mind from + his digression, and rectifies his temporary breach of etiquette by + severing the cervical vertebrae of the spinal column with the friendly + blade—which you can reach quite easily, Dr. Petrie, if you care to + extend your hand.” + </p> + <p> + Some dim perceptions of the truth was beginning to creep into my mind. + When I say a perception of the truth, I mean rather of some part of the + purpose of Dr. Fu-Manchu; of the whole horrible truth, of the scheme which + had been conceived by that mighty, evil man, I had no glimmering, but I + foresaw that a frightful ordeal was before us both. + </p> + <p> + “That I hold you in high esteem,” continued Fu-Manchu, “is a fact which + must be apparent to you by this time, but in regard to your companion, I + entertain very different sentiments....” + </p> + <p> + Always underlying the deliberate calm of the speaker, sometimes showing + itself in an unusually deep guttural, sometimes in an unusually serpentine + sibilance, lurked the frenzy of hatred which in the past had revealed + itself occasionally in wild outbursts. Momentarily I expected such an + outburst now, but it did not come. + </p> + <p> + “One quality possessed by Mr. Nayland Smith,” resumed the Chinaman, “I + admire; I refer to his courage. I would wish that so courageous a man + should seek his own end, should voluntarily efface himself from the path + of that world-movement which he is powerless to check. In short, I would + have him show himself a samurai. Always his friend, you shall remain so to + the end, Dr. Petrie. I have arranged for this.” + </p> + <p> + He struck lightly a little silver gong, dependent from the corner of the + table, whereupon, from the curtained doorway, there entered a short, + thickly built Burman whom I recognized for a dacoit. He wore a shoddy blue + suit, which had been made for a much larger man; but these things claimed + little of my attention, which automatically was directed to the load + beneath which the Burman labored. + </p> + <p> + Upon his back he carried a sort of wire box rather less than six feet + long, some two feet high, and about two feet wide. In short, it was a + stout framework covered with fine wire-netting on the top, sides and ends, + but being open at the bottom. It seemed to be made in five sections or to + contain four sliding partitions which could be raised or lowered at will. + These were of wood, and in the bottom of each was cut a little arch. The + arches in the four partitions varied in size, so that whereas the first + was not more than five inches high, the fourth opened almost to the wire + roof of the box or cage; and a fifth, which was but little higher than the + first, was cut in the actual end of the contrivance. + </p> + <p> + So intent was I upon this device, the purpose of which I was wholly unable + to divine, that I directed the whole of my attention upon it. Then, as the + Burman paused in the doorway, resting a corner of the cage upon the + brilliant carpet, I glanced toward Fu-Manchu. He was watching Nayland + Smith, and revealing his irregular yellow teeth—the teeth of an + opium smoker—in the awful mirthless smile which I knew. + </p> + <p> + “God!” whispered Smith—“the Six Gates!” + </p> + <p> + “The knowledge of my beautiful country serves you well,” replied Fu-Manchu + gently. + </p> + <p> + Instantly I looked to my friend... and every drop of blood seemed to + recede from my heart, leaving it cold in my breast. If I did not know the + purpose of the cage, obviously Smith knew it all too well. His pallor had + grown more marked, and although his gray eyes stared defiantly at the + Chinaman, I, who knew him, could read a deathly horror in their depths. + </p> + <p> + The dacoit, in obedience to a guttural order from Dr. Fu-Manchu, placed + the cage upon the carpet, completely covering Smith’s body, but leaving + his neck and head exposed. The seared and pock-marked face set in a sort + of placid leer, the dacoit adjusted the sliding partitions to Smith’s + recumbent form, and I saw the purpose of the graduated arches. They were + intended to divide a human body in just such fashion, and, as I realized, + were most cunningly shaped to that end. The whole of Smith’s body lay now + in the wire cage, each of the five compartments whereof was shut off from + its neighbor. + </p> + <p> + The Burman stepped back and stood waiting in the doorway. Dr. Fu-Manchu, + removing his gaze from the face of my friend, directed it now upon me. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Commissioner Nayland Smith shall have the honor of acting as + hierophant, admitting himself to the Mysteries,” said Fu-Manchu softly, + “and you, Dr. Petrie, shall be the Friend.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. THE SIX GATES + </h2> + <p> + He glanced toward the Burman, who retired immediately, to re-enter a + moment later carrying a curious leather sack, in shape not unlike that of + a sakka or Arab water-carrier. Opening a little trap in the top of the + first compartment of the cage (that is, the compartment which covered + Smith’s bare feet and ankles) he inserted the neck of the sack, then + suddenly seized it by the bottom and shook it vigorously. Before my + horrified gaze four huge rats came tumbling out from the bag into the + cage! The dacoit snatched away the sack and snapped the shutter fast. A + moving mist obscured my sight, a mist through which I saw the green eyes + of Dr. Fu-Manchu fixed upon me, and through which, as from a great + distance, his voice, sunk to a snake-like hiss, came to my ears. + </p> + <p> + “Cantonese rats, Dr. Petrie, the most ravenous in the world... they have + eaten nothing for nearly a week!” + </p> + <p> + Then all became blurred as though a painter with a brush steeped in red + had smudged out the details of the picture. For an indefinite period, + which seemed like many minutes yet probably was only a few seconds, I saw + nothing and heard nothing; my sensory nerves were dulled entirely. From + this state I was awakened and brought back to the realities by a sound + which ever afterward I was doomed to associate with that ghastly scene. + </p> + <p> + This was the squealing of the rats. + </p> + <p> + The red mist seemed to disperse at that, and with frightfully intense + interest, I began to study the awful torture to which Nayland Smith was + being subjected. The dacoit had disappeared, and Fu-Manchu placidly was + watching the four lean and hideous animals in the cage. As I also turned + my eyes in that direction, the rats overcame their temporary fear, and + began... + </p> + <p> + “You have been good enough to notice,” said the Chinaman, his voice still + sunk in that sibilant whisper, “my partiality for dumb allies. You have + met my scorpions, my death-adders, my baboon-man. The uses of such a + playful little animal as a marmoset have never been fully appreciated + before, I think, but to an indiscretion of this last-named pet of mine, I + seem to remember that you owed something in the past, Dr. Petrie...” + </p> + <p> + Nayland Smith stifled a deep groan. One rapid glance I ventured at his + face. It was a grayish hue, now, and dank with perspiration. His gaze met + mine. + </p> + <p> + The rats had almost ceased squealing. + </p> + <p> + “Much depends upon yourself, Doctor,” continued Fu-Manchu, slightly + raising his voice. “I credit Mr. Commissioner Nayland Smith with courage + high enough to sustain the raising of all the gates; but I estimate the + strength of your friendship highly, also, and predict that you will use + the sword of the samurai certainly not later than the time when I shall + raise the third gate....” + </p> + <p> + A low shuddering sound, which I cannot hope to describe, but alas I can + never forget, broke from the lips of the tortured man. + </p> + <p> + “In China,” resumed Fu-Manchu, “we call this quaint fancy the Six Gates of + joyful Wisdom. The first gate, by which the rats are admitted, is called + the Gate of joyous Hope; the second, the Gate of Mirthful Doubt. The third + gate is poetically named, the Gate of True Rapture, and the fourth, the + Gate of Gentle Sorrow. I once was honored in the friendship of an exalted + mandarin who sustained the course of joyful Wisdom to the raising of the + Fifth Gate (called the Gate of Sweet Desires) and the admission of the + twentieth rat. I esteem him almost equally with my ancestors. The Sixth, + or Gate Celestial—whereby a man enters into the joy of Complete + Understanding—I have dispensed with, here, substituting a Japanese + fancy of an antiquity nearly as great and honorable. The introduction of + this element of speculation, I count a happy thought, and accordingly take + pride to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “The sword, Petrie!” whispered Smith. I should not have recognized his + voice, but he spoke quite evenly and steadily. “I rely upon you, old man, + to spare me the humiliation of asking mercy from that yellow fiend!” + </p> + <p> + My mind throughout this time had been gaining a sort of dreadful clarity. + I had avoided looking at the sword of hara-kiri, but my thoughts had been + leading me mercilessly up to the point at which we were now arrived. No + vestige of anger, of condemnation of the inhuman being seated in the ebony + chair, remained; that was past. Of all that had gone before, and of what + was to come in the future, I thought nothing, knew nothing. Our long fight + against the yellow group, our encounters with the numberless creatures of + Fu-Manchu, the dacoits—even Karamaneh—were forgotten, blotted + out. I saw nothing of the strange appointments of that subterranean + chamber; but face to face with the supreme moment of a lifetime, I was + alone with my poor friend—and God. + </p> + <p> + The rats began squealing again. They were fighting... + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Petrie! Quick, man! I am weakening....” + </p> + <p> + I turned and took up the samurai sword. My hands were very hot and dry, + but perfectly steady, and I tested the edge of the heavy weapon upon my + left thumb-nail as quietly as one might test a razor blade. It was as + keen, this blade of ghastly history, as any razor ever wrought in + Sheffield. I seized the graven hilt, bent forward in my chair, and raised + the Friend’s Sword high above my head. With the heavy weapon poised there, + I looked into my friend’s eyes. They were feverishly bright, but never in + all my days, nor upon the many beds of suffering which it had been my lot + to visit, had I seen an expression like that within them. + </p> + <p> + “The raising of the First Gate is always a crucial moment,” came the + guttural voice of the Chinaman. Although I did not see him, and barely + heard his words, I was aware that he had stood up and was bending forward + over the lower end of the cage. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Petrie! now! God bless you... and good-by...” + </p> + <p> + From somewhere—somewhere remote—I heard a hoarse and + animal-like cry, followed by the sound of a heavy fall. I can scarcely + bear to write of that moment, for I had actually begun the downward sweep + of the great sword when that sound came—a faint Hope, speaking of + aid where I had thought no aid possible. + </p> + <p> + How I contrived to divert the blade, I do not know to this day; but I do + know that its mighty sweep sheared a lock from Smith’s head and laid bare + the scalp. With the hilt in my quivering hands I saw the blade bite deeply + through the carpet and floor above Nayland Smith’s skull. There, buried + fully two inches in the woodwork, it stuck, and still clutching the hilt, + I looked to the right and across the room—I looked to the curtained + doorway. + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu, with one long, claw-like hand upon the top of the First Gate, + was bending over the trap, but his brilliant green eyes were turned in the + same direction as my own—upon the curtained doorway. + </p> + <p> + Upright within it, her beautiful face as pale as death, but her great eyes + blazing with a sort of splendid madness, stood Karamaneh! + </p> + <p> + She looked, not at the tortured man, not at me, but fully at Dr. + Fu-Manchu. One hand clutched the trembling draperies; now she suddenly + raised the other, so that the jewels on her white arm glittered in the + light of the lamp above the door. She held my Browning pistol! Fu-Manchu + sprang upright, inhaling sibilantly, as Karamaneh pointed the pistol point + blank at his high skull and fired.... + </p> + <p> + I saw a little red streak appear, up by the neutral colored hair, under + the black cap. I became as a detached intelligence, unlinked with the + corporeal, looking down upon a thing which for some reason I had never + thought to witness. + </p> + <p> + Fu-Manchu threw up both arms, so that the sleeves of the green robe fell + back to the elbows. He clutched at his head, and the black cap fell behind + him. He began to utter short, guttural cries; he swayed backward—to + the right—to the left then lurched forward right across the cage. + There he lay, writhing, for a moment, his baneful eyes turned up, + revealing the whites; and the great gray rats, released, began leaping + about the room. Two shot like gray streaks past the slim figure in the + doorway, one darted behind the chair to which I was lashed, and the fourth + ran all around against the wall... Fu-Manchu, prostrate across the + overturned cage, lay still, his massive head sagging downward. + </p> + <p> + I experienced a mental repetition of my adventure in the earlier evening—I + was dropping, dropping, dropping into some bottomless pit ... warm arms + were about my neck; and burning kisses upon my lips. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. THE CALL OF THE EAST + </h2> + <p> + I seemed to haul myself back out of the pit of unconsciousness by the aid + of two little hands which clasped my own. I uttered a sigh that was almost + a sob, and opened my eyes. + </p> + <p> + I was sitting in the big red-leathern armchair in my own study... and a + lovely but truly bizarre figure, in a harem dress, was kneeling on the + carpet at my feet; so that my first sight of the world was the sweetest + sight that the world had to offer me, the dark eyes of Karamaneh, with + tears trembling like jewels upon her lashes! + </p> + <p> + I looked no further than that, heeded not if there were others in the room + beside we two, but, gripping the jewel-laden fingers in what must have + been a cruel clasp, I searched the depths of the glorious eyes in ever + growing wonder. What change had taken place in those limpid, mysterious + pools? Why was a wild madness growing up within me like a flame? Why was + the old longing returned, ten-thousandfold, to snatch that pliant, + exquisite shape to my breast? + </p> + <p> + No word was spoken, but the spoken words of a thousand ages could not have + expressed one tithe of what was held in that silent communion. A hand was + laid hesitatingly on my shoulder. I tore my gaze away from the lovely face + so near to mine, and glanced up. + </p> + <p> + Aziz stood at the back of my chair. + </p> + <p> + “God is all merciful,” he said. “My sister is restored to us” (I loved him + for the plural); “and she remembers.” + </p> + <p> + Those few words were enough; I understood now that this lovely girl, who + half knelt, half lay, at my feet, was not the evil, perverted creature of + Fu-Manchu whom we had gone out to arrest with the other vile servants of + the Chinese doctor, but was the old, beloved companion of two years ago, + the Karamaneh for whom I had sought long and wearily in Egypt, who had + been swallowed up and lost to me in that land of mystery. + </p> + <p> + The loss of memory which Fu-Manchu had artificially induced was subject to + the same inexplicable laws which ordinarily rule in cases of amnesia. The + shock of her brave action that night had begun to effect a cure; the sight + of Aziz had completed it. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Weymouth was standing by the writing-table. My mind cleared + rapidly now, and standing up, but without releasing the girl’s hands, so + that I drew her up beside me, I said: + </p> + <p> + “Weymouth—where is—?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s waiting to see you, Doctor,” replied the inspector. + </p> + <p> + A pang, almost physical, struck at my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Poor, dear old Smith!” I cried, with a break in my voice. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Gray, a neighboring practitioner, appeared in the doorway at the + moment that I spoke the words. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, Petrie,” he said, reassuringly; “I think we took it in + time. I have thoroughly cauterized the wounds, and granted that no + complication sets in, he’ll be on his feet again in a week or two.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I was in a condition closely bordering upon the hysterical. At + any rate, my behavior was extraordinary. I raised both my hands above my + head. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” I cried at the top of my voice, “thank God!—thank God!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Him, indeed,” responded the musical voice of Aziz. He spoke with + all the passionate devoutness of the true Moslem. + </p> + <p> + Everything, even Karamaneh was forgotten, and I started for the door as + though my life depended upon my speed. With one foot upon the landing, I + turned, looked back, and met the glance of Inspector Weymouth. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done with—the body?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “We haven’t been able to get to it. That end of the vault collapsed two + minutes after we hauled you out!” + </p> + <p> + As I write, now, of those strange days, already they seem remote and + unreal. But, where other and more dreadful memories already are grown + misty, the memory of that evening in my rooms remains clear-cut and + intimate. It marked a crisis in my life. + </p> + <p> + During the days that immediately followed, whilst Smith was slowly + recovering from his hurts, I made my plans deliberately; I prepared to cut + myself off from old associations—prepared to exile myself, gladly; + how gladly I cannot hope to express in mere cold words. + </p> + <p> + That my friend approved of my projects, I cannot truthfully state, but his + disapproval at least was not openly expressed. To Karamaneh I said nothing + of my plans, but her complete reliance in my powers to protect her, now, + from all harm, was at once pathetic and exquisite. + </p> + <p> + Since, always, I have sought in these chronicles to confine myself to the + facts directly relating to the malignant activity of Dr. Fu-Manchu, I + shall abstain from burdening you with details of my private affairs. As an + instrument of the Chinese doctor, it has sometimes been my duty to write + of the beautiful Eastern girl; I cannot suppose that my readers have any + further curiosity respecting her from the moment that Fate freed her from + that awful servitude. Therefore, when I shall have dealt with the episodes + which marked our voyage to Egypt—I had opened negotiations in regard + to a practice in Cairo—I may honorably lay down my pen. + </p> + <p> + These episodes opened, dramatically, upon the second night of the voyage + from Marseilles. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. “MY SHADOW LIES UPON YOU” + </h2> + <p> + I suppose I did not awake very readily. Following the nervous vigilance of + the past six months, my tired nerves, in the enjoyment of this relaxation, + were rapidly recuperating. I no longer feared to awake to find a knife at + my throat, no longer dreaded the darkness as a foe. + </p> + <p> + So that the voice may have been calling (indeed, had been calling) for + some time, and of this I had been hazily conscious before finally I awoke. + Then, ere the new sense of security came to reassure me, the old sense of + impending harm set my heart leaping nervously. There is always a certain + physical panic attendant upon such awakening in the still of night, + especially in novel surroundings. Now, I sat up abruptly, clutching at the + rail of my berth and listening. + </p> + <p> + There was a soft thudding on my cabin door, and a voice, low and urgent, + was crying my name. + </p> + <p> + Through the open porthole the moonlight streamed into my room, and save + for a remote and soothing throb, inseparable from the progress of a great + steamship, nothing else disturbed the stillness; I might have floated + lonely upon the bosom of the Mediterranean. But there was the drumming on + the door again, and the urgent appeal: + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Petrie! Dr. Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + I threw off the bedclothes and stepped on to the floor of the cabin, + fumbling hastily for my slippers. A fear that something was amiss, that + some aftermath, some wraith of the dread Chinaman, was yet to come to + disturb our premature peace, began to haunt me. I threw open the door. + </p> + <p> + Upon the gleaming deck, blackly outlined against a wondrous sky, stood a + man who wore a blue greatcoat over his pyjamas, and whose unstockinged + feet were thrust into red slippers. It was Platts, the Marconi operator. + </p> + <p> + “I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, Dr. Petrie,” he said, “and I was even + less anxious to arouse your neighbor; but somebody seems to be trying to + get a message, presumably urgent, through to you.” + </p> + <p> + “To me!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot make it out,” admitted Platts, running his fingers through + disheveled hair, “but I thought it better to arouse you. Will you come + up?” + </p> + <p> + I turned without a word, slipped into my dressing-gown, and with Platts + passed aft along the deserted deck. The sea was as calm as a great lake. + Ahead, on the port bow, an angry flambeau burned redly beneath the + peaceful vault of the heavens. Platts nodded absently in the direction of + the weird flames. + </p> + <p> + “Stromboli,” he said; “we shall be nearly through the Straits by + breakfast-time.” + </p> + <p> + We mounted the narrow stair to the Marconi deck. At the table sat Platts’ + assistant with the Marconi attachment upon his head—an apparatus + which always set me thinking of the electric chair. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got it?” demanded my companion as we entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “It’s still coming through,” replied the other without moving, “but in the + same jerky fashion. Every time I get it, it seems to have gone back to the + beginning—just Dr. Petrie—Dr. Petrie.” + </p> + <p> + He began to listen again for the elusive message. I turned to Platts. + </p> + <p> + “Where is it being sent from?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + Platts shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the mystery,” he declared. “Look!”—and he pointed to the + table; “according to the Marconi chart, there’s a Messagerie boat due west + between us and Marseilles, and the homeward-bound P. & O. which we + passed this morning must be getting on that way also, by now. The Isis is + somewhere ahead, but I’ve spoken to all these, and the message comes from + none of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it may come from Messina.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t come from Messina,” replied the man at the table, beginning to + write rapidly. + </p> + <p> + Platts stepped forward and bent over the message which the other was + writing. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is!” he cried, excitedly; “we’re getting it.” + </p> + <p> + Stepping in turn to the table, I leaned over between the two and read + these words as the operator wrote them down: + </p> + <p> + Dr. Petrie—my shadow... + </p> + <p> + I drew a quick breath and gripped Platts’ shoulder harshly. His assistant + began fingering the instrument with irritation. + </p> + <p> + “Lost it again!” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “This message,” I began... + </p> + <p> + But again the pencil was traveling over the paper:—lies upon you + all... end of message. + </p> + <p> + The operator stood up and unclasped the receivers from his ears. There, + high above the sleeping ship’s company, with the carpet of the blue + Mediterranean stretched indefinitely about us, we three stood looking at + one another. By virtue of a miracle of modern science, some one, divided + from me by mile upon mile of boundless ocean, had spoken—and had + been heard. + </p> + <p> + “Is there no means of learning,” I said, “from whence this message + emanated?” + </p> + <p> + Platts shook his head, perplexedly. + </p> + <p> + “They gave no code word,” he said. “God knows who they were. It’s a + strange business and a strange message. Have you any sort of idea, Dr. + Petrie, respecting the identity of the sender?” + </p> + <p> + I stared him hard in the face; an idea had mechanically entered my mind, + but one of which I did not choose to speak, since it was opposed to human + possibility. + </p> + <p> + But, had I not seen with my own eyes the bloody streak across his forehead + as the shot fired by Karamaneh entered his high skull, had I not known, so + certainly as it is given to man to know, that the giant intellect was no + more, the mighty will impotent, I should have replied: + </p> + <p> + “The message is from Dr. Fu-Manchu!” + </p> + <p> + My reflections were rudely terminated and my sinister thoughts given new + stimulus, by a loud though muffled cry which reached me from somewhere in + the ship, below. Both my companions started as violently as I, whereby I + knew that the mystery of the wireless message had not been without its + effect upon their minds also. But whereas they paused in doubt, I leaped + from the room and almost threw myself down the ladder. + </p> + <p> + It was Karamaneh who had uttered that cry of fear and horror! + </p> + <p> + Although I could perceive no connection betwixt the strange message and + the cry in the night, intuitively I linked them, intuitively I knew that + my fears had been well-grounded; that the shadow of Fu-Manchu still lay + upon us. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh occupied a large stateroom aft on the main deck; so that I had + to descend from the upper deck on which my own room was situated to the + promenade deck, again to the main deck and thence proceed nearly the whole + length of the alleyway. + </p> + <p> + Karamaneh and her brother, Aziz, who occupied a neighboring room, met me, + near the library. Karamaneh’s eyes were wide with fear; her peerless + coloring had fled, and she was white to the lips. Aziz, who wore a + dressing-gown thrown hastily over his night attire, had his arm + protectively about the girl’s shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “The mummy!” she whispered tremulously—“the mummy!” + </p> + <p> + There came a sound of opening doors, and several passengers, whom + Karamaneh cries had alarmed, appeared in various stages of undress. A + stewardess came running from the far end of the alleyway, and I found time + to wonder at my own speed; for, starting from the distant Marconi deck, + yet I had been the first to arrive upon the scene. + </p> + <p> + Stacey, the ship’s doctor, was quartered at no great distance from the + spot, and he now joined the group. Anticipating the question which + trembled upon the lips of several of those about me: + </p> + <p> + “Come to Dr. Stacey’s room,” I said, taking Karamaneh arm; “we will give + you something to enable you to sleep.” I turned to the group. “My patient + has had severe nerve trouble,” I explained, “and has developed + somnambulistic tendencies.” + </p> + <p> + I declined the stewardess’ offer of assistance, with a slight shake of the + head, and shortly the four of us entered the doctor’s cabin, on the deck + above. Stacey carefully closed the door. He was an old fellow student of + mine, and already he knew much of the history of the beautiful Eastern + girl and her brother Aziz. + </p> + <p> + “I fear there’s mischief afoot, Petrie,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to your presence of mind, the ship’s gossips need know nothing of + it.” + </p> + <p> + I glanced at Karamaneh who, since the moment of my arrival had never once + removed her gaze from me; she remained in that state of passive fear in + which I had found her, the lovely face pallid; and she stared at me + fixedly in a childish, expressionless way which made me fear that the + shock to which she had been subjected, whatever its nature, had caused a + relapse into that strange condition of forgetfulness from which a previous + shock had aroused her. I could see that Stacey shared my view, for: + </p> + <p> + “Something has frightened you,” he said gently, seating himself on the arm + of Karamaneh’s chair and patting her hand as if to reassure her. “Tell us + all about it.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time since our meeting that night, the girl turned her eyes + from me and glanced up at Stacey, a sudden warm blush stealing over her + face and throat and as quickly departing, to leave her even more pale than + before. She grasped Stacey’s hand in both her own—and looked again + at me. + </p> + <p> + “Send for Mr. Nayland Smith without delay!” she said, and her sweet voice + was slightly tremulous. “He must be put on his guard!” + </p> + <p> + I started up. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I said. “For God’s sake tell us what has happened!” + </p> + <p> + Aziz who evidently was as anxious as myself for information, and who now + knelt at his sister’s feet looking at her with that strange love, which + was almost adoration, in his eyes, glanced back at me and nodded his head + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Something”—Karamaneh paused, shuddering violently—“some + dreadful thing, like a mummy escaped from its tomb, came into my room + to-night through the porthole...” + </p> + <p> + “Through the porthole?” echoed Stacey, amazedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, through the porthole! A creature tall and very, very thin. He + wore wrappings—yellow wrappings—swathed about his head, so + that only his eyes, his evil gleaming eyes, were visible.... From waist to + knees he was covered, also, but his body, his feet, and his legs were + bare...” + </p> + <p> + “Was he—?” I began... + </p> + <p> + “He was a brown man, yes,”—Karamaneh divining my question, nodded, + and the shimmering cloud of her wonderful hair, hastily confined, burst + free and rippled about her shoulders. “A gaunt, fleshless brown man, who + bent, and writhed bony fingers—so!” + </p> + <p> + “A thug!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “He—it—the mummy thing—would have strangled me if I had + slept, for he crouched over the berth—seeking—seeking...” + </p> + <p> + I clenched my teeth convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “But I was sitting up—” + </p> + <p> + “With the light on?” interrupted Stacey in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No,” added Karamaneh; “the light was out.” She turned her eyes toward me, + as the wonderful blush overspread her face once more. “I was sitting + thinking. It all happened within a few seconds, and quite silently. As the + mummy crouched over the berth, I unlocked the door and leaped out into the + passage. I think I screamed; I did not mean to. Oh, Dr. Stacey, there is + not a moment to spare! Mr. Nayland Smith must be warned immediately. Some + horrible servant of Dr. Fu-Manchu is on the ship!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. THE TRAGEDY + </h2> + <p> + Nayland Smith leaned against the edge of the dressing-table, attired in + pyjamas. The little stateroom was hazy with smoke, and my friend gripped + the charred briar between his teeth and watched the blue-gray clouds + arising from the bowl, in an abstracted way. I knew that he was thinking + hard, and from the fact that he had exhibited no surprise when I had + related to him the particular’s of the attack upon Karamaneh I judged that + he had half anticipated something of the kind. Suddenly he stood up, + staring at me fixedly. + </p> + <p> + “Your tact has saved the situation, Petrie,” he snapped. “It failed you + momentarily, though, when you proposed to me just now that we should + muster the lascars for inspection. Our game is to pretend that we know + nothing—that we believe Karamaneh to have had a bad dream.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Smith,” I began— + </p> + <p> + “It would be useless, Petrie,” he interrupted me. “You cannot suppose that + I overlooked the possibility of some creature of the doctor’s being among + the lascars. I can assure you that not one of them answers to the + description of the midnight assailant. From the girl’s account we have to + look (discarding the idea of a revivified mummy) for a man of unusual + height—and there’s no lascar of unusual height on board; and from + the visible evidence, that he entered the stateroom through the porthole, + we have to look for a man more than normally thin. In a word, the servant + of Dr. Fu-Manchu who attempted the life of Karamaneh is either in hiding + on the ship, or, if visible, is disguised.” + </p> + <p> + With his usual clarity of vision, Nayland Smith had visualized the facts + of the case; I passed in mental survey each one of the passengers, and + those of the crew whose appearances were familiar to me, with the result + that I had to admit the justice of my friend’s conclusions. Smith began to + pace the narrow strip of carpet between the dressing-table and the door. + Suddenly he began again. “From our knowledge of Fu-Manchu and of the group + surrounding him (and, don’t forget, surviving him)—we may further + assume that the wireless message was no gratuitous piece of melodrama, but + that it was directed to a definite end. Let us endeavor to link up the + chain a little. You occupy an upper deck berth; so do I. Experience of the + Chinaman has formed a habit in both of us; that of sleeping with closed + windows. Your port was fastened and so was my own. Karamaneh is quartered + on the main deck, and her brother’s stateroom opens into the same + alleyway. Since the ship is in the Straits of Messina, and the glass set + fair, the stewards have not closed the portholes nightly at present. We + know that that of Karamaneh’s stateroom was open. Therefore, in any + attempt upon our quartet, Karamaneh would automatically be selected for + the victim, since failing you or myself she may be regarded as being the + most obnoxious to Dr. Fu-Manchu.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded comprehendingly. Smith’s capacity for throwing the white light of + reason into the darkest places often amazed me. + </p> + <p> + “You may have noticed,” he continued, “that Karamaneh’s room is directly + below your own. In the event of any outcry, you would be sooner upon the + scene than I should, for instance, because I sleep on the opposite side of + the ship. This circumstance I take to be the explanation of the wireless + message, which, because of its hesitancy (a piece of ingenuity very + characteristic of the group), led to your being awakened and invited up to + the Marconi deck; in short, it gave the would-be assassin a better chance + of escaping before your arrival.” + </p> + <p> + I watched my friend in growing wonder. The strange events, seemingly + having no link, took their places in the drama, and became well-ordered + episodes in a plot that only a criminal genius could have devised. As I + studied the keen, bronzed face, I realized to the full the stupendous + mental power of Dr. Fu-Manchu, measuring it by the criterion of Nayland + Smith’s. For the cunning Chinaman, in a sense, had foiled this brilliant + man before me, whereby, if by nought else, I might know him a master of + his evil art. + </p> + <p> + “I regard the episode,” continued Smith, “as a posthumous attempt of the + doctor’s; a legacy of hate which may prove more disastrous than any + attempt made upon us by Fu-Manchu in life. Some fiendish member of the + murder group is on board the ship. We must, as always, meet guile with + guile. There must be no appeal to the captain, no public examination of + passengers and crew. One attempt has failed; I do not doubt that others + will be made. At present, you will enact the role of + physician-in-attendance upon Karamaneh, and will put it about for whom it + may interest that a slight return of her nervous trouble is causing her to + pass uneasy nights. I can safely leave this part of the case to you, I + think?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t troubled to make inquiries,” added Smith, “but I think it + probable that the regulation respecting closed ports will come into + operation immediately we have passed the Straits, or at any rate + immediately there is any likelihood of bad weather.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that no alteration should be made in our habits. A second attempt + along similar lines is to be apprehended—to-night. After that we may + begin to look out for a new danger.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray we may avoid it,” I said fervently. + </p> + <p> + As I entered the saloon for breakfast in the morning, I was subjected to + solicitous inquiries from Mrs. Prior, the gossip of the ship. Her room + adjoined Karamaneh’s and she had been one of the passengers aroused by the + girl’s cries in the night. Strictly adhering to my role, I explained that + my patient was threatened with a second nervous breakdown, and was subject + to vivid and disturbing dreams. One or two other inquiries I met in the + same way, ere escaping to the corner table reserved to us. + </p> + <p> + That iron-bound code of conduct which rules the Anglo-Indian, in the first + days of the voyage had threatened to ostracize Karamaneh and Aziz, by + reason of the Eastern blood to which their brilliant but peculiar type of + beauty bore witness. Smith’s attitude, however—and, in a Burmese + commissioner, it constituted something of a law—had done much to + break down the barriers; the extraordinary beauty of the girl had done the + rest. So that now, far from finding themselves shunned, the society of + Karamaneh and her romantic-looking brother was universally courted. The + last inquiry that morning, respecting my interesting patient, came from + the bishop of Damascus, a benevolent old gentleman whose ancestry was not + wholly innocent of Oriental strains, and who sat at a table immediately + behind me. As I settled down to my porridge, he turned his chair slightly + and bent to my ear. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Prior tells me that your charming friend was disturbed last night,” + he whispered. “She seems rather pale this morning; I sincerely trust that + she is suffering no ill-effect.” + </p> + <p> + I swung around, with a smile. Owing to my carelessness, there was a slight + collision, and the poor bishop, who had been invalided to England after + typhoid, in order to undergo special treatment, suppressed an exclamation + of pain, although his fine dark eyes gleamed kindly upon me through the + pebbles of his gold-rimmed pince-nez. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, despite his Eastern blood, he might have posed for a Sadler + picture, his small and refined features seeming out of place above the + bulky body. + </p> + <p> + “Can you forgive my clumsiness,” I began— + </p> + <p> + But the bishop raised his small, slim fingered hand of old ivory hue, + deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + His system was supercharged with typhoid bacilli, and, as sometimes + occurs, the superfluous “bugs” had sought exit. He could only walk with + the aid of two stout sticks, and bent very much at that. His left leg had + been surgically scraped to the bone, and I appreciated the exquisite + torture to which my awkwardness had subjected him. But he would entertain + no apologies, pressing his inquiry respecting Karamaneh in the kindly + manner which had made him so deservedly popular on board. + </p> + <p> + “Many thanks for your solicitude,” I said; “I have promised her sound + repose to-night, and since my professional reputation is at stake, I shall + see that she secures it.” + </p> + <p> + In short, we were in pleasant company, and the day passed happily enough + and without notable event. Smith spent some considerable time with the + chief officer, wandering about unfrequented parts of the ship. I learned + later that he had explored the lascars’ quarters, the forecastle, the + engine-room, and had even descended to the stokehold; but this was done so + unostentatiously that it occasioned no comment. + </p> + <p> + With the approach of evening, in place of that physical contentment which + usually heralds the dinner-hour, at sea, I experienced a fit of the + seemingly causeless apprehension which too often in the past had + harbingered the coming of grim events; which I had learnt to associate + with the nearing presence of one of Fu-Manchu’s death-agents. In view of + the facts, as I afterwards knew them to be, I cannot account for this. + </p> + <p> + Yet, in an unexpected manner, my forebodings were realized. That night I + was destined to meet a sorrow surpassing any which my troubled life had + known. Even now I experience great difficulty in relating the matters + which befell, in speaking of the sense of irrevocable loss which came to + me. Briefly, then, at about ten minutes before the dining hour, whilst all + the passengers, myself included, were below, dressing, a faint cry arose + from somewhere aft on the upper deck—a cry which was swiftly taken + up by other voices, so that presently a deck steward echoed it immediately + outside my own stateroom: + </p> + <p> + “Man overboard! Man overboard!” + </p> + <p> + All my premonitions rallying in that one sickening moment, I sprang out on + the deck, half dressed as I was, and leaping past the boat which swung + nearly opposite my door, craned over the rail, looking astern. + </p> + <p> + For a long time I could detect nothing unusual. The engine-room telegraph + was ringing—and the motion of the screws momentarily ceased; then, + in response to further ringing, recommenced, but so as to jar the whole + structure of the vessel; whereby I knew that the engines were reversed. + Peering intently into the wake of the ship, I was but dimly aware of the + ever growing turmoil around me, of the swift mustering of a boat’s crew, + of the shouted orders of the third-officer. Suddenly I saw it—the + sight which was to haunt me for succeeding days and nights. + </p> + <p> + Half in the streak of the wake and half out of it, I perceived the sleeve + of a white jacket, and, near to it, a soft felt hat. The sleeve rose up + once into clear view, seemed to describe a half-circle in the air then + sink back again into the glassy swell of the water. Only the hat remained + floating upon the surface. + </p> + <p> + By the evidence of the white sleeve alone I might have remained + unconvinced, although upon the voyage I had become familiar enough with + the drill shooting-jacket, but the presence of the gray felt hat was + almost conclusive. + </p> + <p> + The man overboard was Nayland Smith! + </p> + <p> + I cannot hope, writing now, to convey in any words at my command, a sense, + even remote, of the utter loneliness which in that dreadful moment closed + coldly down upon me. + </p> + <p> + To spring overboard to the rescue was a natural impulse, but to have + obeyed it would have been worse than quixotic. In the first place, the + drowning man was close upon half a mile astern; in the second place, + others had seen the hat and the white coat as clearly as I; among them the + third-officer, standing upright in the stern of the boat—which, with + commendable promptitude had already been swung into the water. The steamer + was being put about, describing a wide arc around the little boat dancing + on the deep blue rollers.... + </p> + <p> + Of the next hour, I cannot bear to write at all. Long as I had known him, + I was ignorant of my friend’s powers as a swimmer, but I judged that he + must have been a poor one from the fact that he had sunk so rapidly in a + calm sea. Except the hat, no trace of Nayland Smith remained when the boat + got to the spot. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. THE MUMMY + </h2> + <p> + Dinner was out of the question that night for all of us. Karamaneh who had + spoken no word, but, grasping my hands, had looked into my eyes—her + own glassy with unshed tears—and then stolen away to her cabin, had + not since reappeared. Seated upon my berth, I stared unseeingly before me, + upon a changed ship, a changed sea and sky upon another world. The poor + old bishop, my neighbor, had glanced in several times, as he hobbled by, + and his spectacles were unmistakably humid; but even he had vouchsafed no + word, realizing that my sorrow was too deep for such consolation. + </p> + <p> + When at last I became capable of connected thought, I found myself faced + by a big problem. Should I place the facts of the matter, as I knew them + to be, before the captain? or could I hope to apprehend Fu-Manchu’s + servant by the methods suggested by my poor friend? That Smith’s death was + an accident, I did not believe for a moment; it was impossible not to link + it with the attempt upon Karamaneh. In my misery and doubt, I determined + to take counsel with Dr. Stacey. I stood up, and passed out on to the + deck. + </p> + <p> + Those passengers whom I met on my way to his room regarded me in + respectful silence. By contrast, Stacey’s attitude surprised and even + annoyed me. + </p> + <p> + “I’d be prepared to stake all I possess—although it’s not much,” he + said, “that this was not the work of your hidden enemy.” + </p> + <p> + He blankly refused to give me his reasons for the statement and strongly + advised me to watch and wait but to make no communication to the captain. + </p> + <p> + At this hour I can look back and savor again something of the profound + dejection of that time. I could not face the passengers; I even avoided + Karamaneh and Aziz. I shut myself in my cabin and sat staring aimlessly + into the growing darkness. The steward knocked, once, inquiring if I + needed anything, but I dismissed him abruptly. So I passed the evening and + the greater part of the night. + </p> + <p> + Those groups of promenaders who passed my door, invariably were discussing + my poor friend’s tragic end; but as the night wore on, the deck grew + empty, and I sat amid a silence that in my miserable state I welcomed more + than the presence of any friend, saving only the one whom I should never + welcome again. + </p> + <p> + Since I had not counted the bells, to this day I have only the vaguest + idea respecting the time whereat the next incident occurred which it is my + duty to chronicle. Perhaps I was on the verge of falling asleep, seated + there as I was; at any rate, I could scarcely believe myself awake, when, + unheralded by any footsteps to indicate his coming, some one who seemed to + be crouching outside my stateroom, slightly raised himself and peered in + through the porthole—which I had not troubled to close. + </p> + <p> + He must have been a fairly tall man to have looked in at all, and although + his features were indistinguishable in the darkness, his outline, which + was clearly perceptible against the white boat beyond, was unfamiliar to + me. He seemed to have a small, and oddly swathed head, and what I could + make out of the gaunt neck and square shoulders in some way suggested an + unnatural thinness; in short, the smudgy silhouette in the porthole was + weirdly like that of a mummy! + </p> + <p> + For some moments I stared at the apparition; then, rousing myself from the + apathy into which I had sunk, I stood up very quickly and stepped across + the room. As I did so the figure vanished, and when I threw open the door + and looked out upon the deck... the deck was wholly untenanted! + </p> + <p> + I realized at once that it would be useless, even had I chosen the course, + to seek confirmation of what I had seen from the officer on the bridge: my + own berth, together with the one adjoining—that of the bishop—was + not visible from the bridge. + </p> + <p> + For some time I stood in my doorway, wondering in a disinterested fashion + which now I cannot explain, if the hidden enemy had revealed himself to + me, or if disordered imagination had played me a trick. Later, I was + destined to know the truth of the matter, but when at last I fell into a + troubled sleep, that night, I was still in some doubt upon the point. + </p> + <p> + My state of mind when I awakened on the following day was indescribable; I + found it difficult to doubt that Nayland Smith would meet me on the way to + the bathroom as usual, with the cracked briar fuming between his teeth. I + felt myself almost compelled to pass around to his stateroom in order to + convince myself that he was not really there. The catastrophe was still + unreal to me, and the world a dream-world. Indeed I retain scarcely any + recollections of the traffic of that day, or of the days that followed it + until we reached Port Said. + </p> + <p> + Two things only made any striking appeal to my dulled intelligence at that + time. These were: the aloof attitude of Dr. Stacey, who seemed carefully + to avoid me; and a curious circumstance which the second officer mentioned + in conversation one evening as we strolled up and down the main deck + together. + </p> + <p> + “Either I was fast asleep at my post, Dr. Petrie,” he said, “or last + night, in the middle watch, some one or something came over the side of + the ship just aft the bridge, slipped across the deck, and disappeared.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at him wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean something that came up out of the sea?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could very well have come up out of the sea,” he replied, smiling + slightly, “so that it must have come up from the deck below.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it a man?” + </p> + <p> + “It looked like a man, and a fairly tall one, but he came and was gone + like a flash, and I saw no more of him up to the time I was relieved. To + tell you the truth, I did not report it because I thought I must have been + dozing; it’s a dead slow watch, and the navigation on this part of the run + is child’s play.” + </p> + <p> + I was on the point of telling him what I had seen myself, two evenings + before, but for some reason I refrained from doing so, although I think + had I confided in him he would have abandoned the idea that what he had + seen was phantasmal; for the pair of us could not very well have been + dreaming. Some malignant presence haunted the ship; I could not doubt + this; yet I remained passive, sunk in a lethargy of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + We were scheduled to reach Port Said at about eight o’clock in the + evening, but by reason of the delay occasioned so tragically, I learned + that in all probability we should not arrive earlier than midnight, whilst + passengers would not go ashore until the following morning. Karamaneh who + had been staring ahead all day, seeking a first glimpse of her native + land, was determined to remain up until the hour of our arrival, but after + dinner a notice was posted up that we should not be in before two A.M. + Even those passengers who were the most enthusiastic thereupon determined + to postpone, for a few hours, their first glimpse of the land of the + Pharaohs and even to forego the sight—one of the strangest and most + interesting in the world—of Port Said by night. + </p> + <p> + For my own part, I confess that all the interest and hope with which I had + looked forward to our arrival, had left me, and often I detected tears in + the eyes of Karamaneh whereby I knew that the coldness in my heart had + manifested itself even to her. I had sustained the greatest blow of my + life, and not even the presence of so lovely a companion could entirely + recompense me for the loss of my dearest friend. + </p> + <p> + The lights on the Egyptian shore were faintly visible when the last group + of stragglers on deck broke up. I had long since prevailed upon Karamaneh + to retire, and now, utterly sick at heart, I sought my own stateroom, + mechanically undressed, and turned in. + </p> + <p> + It may, or may not be singular that I had neglected all precautions since + the night of the tragedy; I was not even conscious of a desire to visit + retribution upon our hidden enemy; in some strange fashion I took it for + granted that there would be no further attempts upon Karamaneh, Aziz, or + myself. I had not troubled to confirm Smith’s surmise respecting the + closing of the portholes; but I know now for a fact that, whereas they had + been closed from the time of our leaving the Straits of Messina, to-night, + in sight of the Egyptian coast, the regulation was relaxed again. I cannot + say if this is usual, but that it occurred on this ship is a fact to which + I can testify—a fact to which my attention was to be drawn + dramatically. + </p> + <p> + The night was steamingly hot, and because I welcomed the circumstance that + my own port was widely opened, I reflected that those on the lower decks + might be open also. A faint sense of danger stirred within me; indeed, I + sat upright and was about to spring out of my berth when that occurred + which induced me to change my mind. + </p> + <p> + All passengers had long since retired, and a midnight silence descended + upon the ship, for we were not yet close enough to port for any unusual + activities to have commenced. + </p> + <p> + Clearly outlined in the open porthole there suddenly arose that same + grotesque silhouette which I had seen once before. + </p> + <p> + Prompted by I know not what, I lay still and simulated heavy breathing; + for it was evident to me that I must be partly visible to the watcher, so + bright was the night. For ten—twenty—thirty seconds he studied + me in absolute silence, that gaunt thing so like a mummy; and, with my + eyes partly closed, I watched him, breathing heavily all the time. Then, + making no more noise than a cat, he moved away across the deck, and I + could judge of his height by the fact that his small, swathed head + remained visible almost to the time that he passed to the end of the white + boat which swung opposite my stateroom. + </p> + <p> + In a moment I slipped quietly to the floor, crossed, and peered out of the + porthole; so that at last I had a clear view of the sinister mummy-man. He + was crouching under the bow of the boat, and attaching to the white rails, + below, a contrivance of a kind with which I was not entirely unfamiliar. + This was a thin ladder of silken rope, having bamboo rungs, with two metal + hooks for attaching it to any suitable object. + </p> + <p> + The one thus engaged was, as Karamaneh had declared, almost superhumanly + thin. His loins were swathed in a sort of linen garment, and his head so + bound about, turban fashion, that only his gleaming eyes remained visible. + The bare limbs and body were of a dusky yellow color, and, at sight of + him, I experienced a sudden nausea. + </p> + <p> + My pistol was in my cabin-trunk, and to have found it in the dark, without + making a good deal of noise, would have been impossible. Doubting how I + should act, I stood watching the man with the swathed head whilst he threw + the end of the ladder over the side, crept past the bow of the boat, and + swung his gaunt body over the rail, exhibiting the agility of an ape. One + quick glance fore and aft he gave, then began to swarm down the ladder: in + which instant I knew his mission. + </p> + <p> + With a choking cry, which forced itself unwilled from my lips, I tore at + the door, threw it open, and sprang across the deck. Plans, I had none, + and since I carried no instrument wherewith to sever the ladder, the + murderer might indeed have carried out his design for all that I could + have done to prevent him, were it not that another took a hand in the + game.... + </p> + <p> + At the moment that the mummy-man—his head now on a level with the + deck—perceived me, he stopped dead. Coincident with his stopping, + the crack of a pistol shot sounded—from immediately beyond the boat. + </p> + <p> + Uttering a sort of sobbing sound, the creature fell—then clutched, + with straining yellow fingers, at the rails, and, seemingly by dint of a + great effort, swarmed along aft some twenty feet, with incredible + swiftness and agility, and clambered onto the deck. + </p> + <p> + A second shot cracked sharply; and a voice (God! was I mad!) cried: “Hold + him, Petrie!” + </p> + <p> + Rigid with fearful astonishment I stood, as out from the boat above me + leaped a figure attired solely in shirt and trousers. The newcomer leaped + away in the wake of the mummy-man—who had vanished around the corner + by the smoke-room. Over his shoulder he cried back at me: + </p> + <p> + “The bishop’s stateroom! See that no one enters!” + </p> + <p> + I clutched at my head—which seemed to be fiery hot; I realized in my + own person the sensation of one who knows himself mad. + </p> + <p> + For the man who pursued the mummy was Nayland Smith! + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + I stood in the bishop’s state-room, Nayland Smith, his gaunt face wet with + perspiration, beside me, handling certain odd looking objects which + littered the place, and lay about amid the discarded garments of the + absent cleric. + </p> + <p> + “Pneumatic pads!” he snapped. “The man was a walking air-cushion!” He + gingerly fingered two strange rubber appliances. “For distending the + cheeks,” he muttered, dropping them disgustedly on the floor. “His hands + and wrists betrayed him, Petrie. He wore his cuff unusually long but he + could not entirely hide his bony wrists. To have watched him, whilst + remaining myself unseen, was next to impossible; hence my device of + tossing a dummy overboard, calculated to float for less than ten minutes! + It actually floated nearly fifteen, as a matter of fact, and I had some + horrible moments!” + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” I said—“how could you submit me...” + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hands on my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “My dear old chap—there was no other way, believe me. From that boat + I could see right into his stateroom, but, once in, I dare not leave it—except + late at night, stealthily! The second spotted me one night and I thought + the game was up, but evidently he didn’t report it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you might have confided...” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! I’ll admit I nearly fell to the temptation that first night; + for I could see into your room as well as into his!” He slapped me + boisterously on the back, but his gray eyes were suspiciously moist. “Dear + old Petrie! Thank God for our friends! But you’d be the first to admit, + old man, that you’re a dead rotten actor! Your portrayal of grief for the + loss of a valued chum would not have convinced a soul on board! + </p> + <p> + “Therefore I made use of Stacey, whose callous attitude was less + remarkable. Gad, Petrie! I nearly bagged our man the first night! The + elaborate plan—Marconi message to get you out of the way, and so + forth—had miscarried, and he knew the porthole trick would be + useless once we got into the open sea. He took a big chance. He discarded + his clerical guise and peeped into your room—you remember?—but + you were awake, and I made no move when he slipped back to his own cabin; + I wanted to take him red-handed.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea...” + </p> + <p> + “Who he is? No more than where he is! Probably some creature of Dr. + Fu-Manchu specially chosen for the purpose; obviously a man of culture, + and probably of thug ancestry. I hit him—in the shoulder; but even + then he ran like a hare. We’ve searched the ship, without result. He may + have gone overboard and chanced the swim to shore...” + </p> + <p> + We stepped out onto the deck. Around us was that unforgettable scene—Port + Said by night. The ship was barely moving through the glassy water, now. + Smith took my arm and we walked forward. Above us was the mighty peace of + Egypt’s sky ablaze with splendor; around and about us moved the unique + turmoil of the clearing-house of the Near East. + </p> + <p> + “I would give much to know the real identity of the bishop of Damascus,” + muttered Smith. + </p> + <p> + He stopped abruptly, snapping his teeth together and grasping my arm as in + a vise. Hard upon his words had followed the rattling clangor as the great + anchor was let go; but horribly intermingled with the metallic roar there + came to us such a fearful, inarticulate shrieking as to chill one’s heart. + </p> + <p> + The anchor plunged into the water of the harbor; the shrieking ceased. + Smith turned to me, and his face was tragic in the light of the arc lamp + swung hard by. + </p> + <p> + “We shall never know,” he whispered. “God forgive him—he must be in + bloody tatters now. Petrie, the poor fool was hiding in the chainlocker!” + </p> + <p> + A little hand stole into mine. I turned quickly. Karamaneh stood beside + me. I placed my arm about her shoulders, drawing her close; and I blush to + relate that all else was forgotten. + </p> + <p> + For a moment, heedless of the fearful turmoil forward, Nayland Smith stood + looking at us. Then he turned, with his rare smile, and walked aft. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you’re right, Petrie!” he said. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1183 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |