"I secured the papers of Major Morley yesterday," he continued, "and
while you slept, I went over them. Mostly they but corroborated what
I already knew--touched on the unrest of the natives and repeated the
theory that one vast genius was behind all. But there was one matter
which interested me greatly and which I think will interest you also."
From his strong box he took a manuscript written in the close, neat
characters of the unfortunate major, and in a monotonous droning voice
which betrayed little of his intense excitement he read the following
nightmarish narrative:
* * * * *
"This matter I consider worth jotting down--as to whether it has
any bearing on the case at hand, further developments will show. At
Alexandria, where I spent some weeks seeking further clues as to the
identity of the man known as the Scorpion, I made the acquaintance,
through my friend Ahmed Shah, of the noted Egyptologist Professor
Ezra Schuyler of New York. He verified the statement made by various
laymen, concerning the legend of the 'ocean-man.' This myth, handed
down from generation to generation, stretches back into the very
mists of antiquity and is, briefly, that some day a man shall come
up out of the sea and shall lead the people of Egypt to victory over
all others. This legend has spread over the continent so that now
all black races consider that it deals with the coming of a universal
emperor. Professor Schuyler gave it as his opinion that the myth
was somehow connected with the lost Atlantis, which, he maintains,
was located between the African and South American continents and
to whose inhabitants the ancestors of the Egyptians were tributary.
The reasons for his connection are too lengthy and vague to note
here, but following the line of his theory he told me a strange and
fantastic tale. He said that a close friend of his, Von Lorfmon of
Germany, a sort of free-lance scientist, now dead, was sailing off the
coast of Senegal some years ago, for the purpose of investigating and
classifying the rare specimens of sea-life found there. He was using
for his purpose a small trading-vessel, manned by a crew of Moors,
Greeks and negroes.
"Some days out of sight of land, something floating was sighted,
and this object, being grappled and brought aboard, proved to be _a
mummy-case of a most curious kind_. Professor Schuyler explained to me
the features whereby it differed from the ordinary Egyptian style, but
from his rather technical account I merely got the impression that it
was a strangely shaped affair carved with characters neither cuneiform
nor hieroglyphic. The case was heavily lacquered, being watertight and
airtight, and Von Lorfmon had considerable difficulty in opening it.
However, he managed to do so without damaging the case, and a most
unusual mummy was revealed. Schuyler said that he never saw either
the mummy or the case, but that from descriptions given him by the
Greek skipper who was present at the opening of the case, the mummy
differed as much from the ordinary man as the case differed from the
conventional type.
"Examination proved that the subject had not undergone the usual
procedure of mummification. All parts were intact just as in life, but
the whole form was shrunk and hardened to a wood-like consistency.
Cloth wrappings swathed the thing and they crumbled to dust and
vanished the instant air was let in upon them.
"Von Lorfmon was impressed by the effect upon the crew. The Greeks
showed no interest beyond that which would ordinarily be shown by any
man, but the Moors, and even more the negroes, seemed to be rendered
temporarily insane! As the case was hoisted on board, they all fell
prostrate on the deck and raised a sort of worshipful chant, and it
was necessary to use force in order to exclude them from the cabin
wherein the mummy was exposed. A number of fights broke out between
them and the Greek element of the crew, and the skipper and Von Lorfmon
thought best to put back to the nearest port in all haste. The skipper
attributed it to the natural aversion of seamen toward having a corpse
on board, but Von Lorfmon seemed to sense a deeper meaning.
"They made port in Lagos, and that very night Von Lorfmon was murdered
in his stateroom and the mummy and its case vanished. All the Moor and
negro sailors deserted ship the same night. Schuyler said--and here the
matter took on a most sinister and mysterious aspect--that immediately
afterward this widespread unrest among the natives began to smolder and
take tangible form; he connected it in some manner with the old legend.
"An aura of mystery, also, hung over Von Lorfmon's death. He had taken
the mummy into his stateroom, and anticipating an attack from the
fanatical crew, had carefully barred and bolted door and portholes.
The skipper, a reliable man, swore that it was virtually impossible to
effect an entrance from without. And what signs were present pointed to
the fact that the locks had been worked from _within_. The scientist
was killed by a dagger which formed part of his collection and which
was left in his breast.
"As I have said, immediately afterward the African cauldron began to
seethe. Schuyler said that in his opinion the natives considered the
ancient prophecy fulfilled. The mummy was _the man from the sea_.
"Schuyler gave as his opinion that the thing was the work of Atlanteans
and that the man in the mummy-case was a native of lost Atlantis. How
the case came to float up through the fathoms of water which cover the
forgotten land, he does not venture to offer a theory. He is sure that
somewhere in the ghost-ridden mazes of the African jungles the mummy
has been enthroned as a god, and, inspired by the dead thing, the black
warriors are gathering for a wholesale massacre. He believes, also,
that some crafty Moslem is the direct moving power of the threatened
rebellion."
Gordon ceased and looked up at me.
"Mummies seem to weave a weird dance through the warp of the tale," he
said. "The German scientist took several pictures of the mummy with his
camera, and it was after seeing these--which strangely enough were not
stolen along with the thing--that Major Morley began to think himself
on the brink of some monstrous discovery. His diary reflects his state
of mind and becomes incoherent--his condition seems to have bordered on
insanity. What did he learn to unbalance him so? Do you suppose that
the mesmeric spells of Kathulos were used against him?"
"These pictures----" I began.
"They fell into Schuyler's hands and he gave one to Morley. I found it
among the manuscripts."
He handed the thing to me, watching me narrowly. I stared, then rose
unsteadily and poured myself a tumbler of wine.
"Not a dead idol in a voodoo hut," I said shakily, "but a monster
animated by fearsome life, roaming the world for victims. Morley had
seen the Master--that is why his brain crumbled. Gordon, as I hope to
live again, _that face is the face of Kathulos_!"
Gordon stared wordlessly at me.
"The Master hand, Gordon," I laughed. A certain grim enjoyment
penetrated the mists of my horror, at the sight of the steel-nerved
Englishman struck speechless, doubtless for the first time in his life.
He moistened his lips and said in a scarcely recognizable voice, "Then,
in God's name, Costigan, nothing is stable or certain, and mankind
hovers at the brink of untold abysses of nameless horror. If that dead
monster found by Von Lorfmon be in truth the Scorpion, brought to life
in some hideous fashion, what can mortal effort do against him?"
"The mummy at Kamonos'----" I began.
"Aye, the man whose flesh, hardened by a thousand years of
non-existence--that must have been Kathulos himself! He would have
just had time to strip, wrap himself in the linens and step into the
case before we entered. You remember that the case, leaning upright
against the wall, stood partly concealed by a large Burmese idol, which
obstructed our view and doubtless gave him time to accomplish his
purpose. My God, Costigan, with what horror of the prehistoric world
are we dealing?"
"I have heard of Hindoo fakirs who could induce a condition closely
resembling death," I began. "Is it not possible that Kathulos, a shrewd
and crafty Oriental, could have placed himself in this state and his
followers have placed the case in the ocean where it was sure to be
found? And might not he have been in this shape tonight at Kamonos'?"
Gordon shook his head.
"No. I have seen these fakirs. None of them ever feigned death to the
extent of becoming shriveled and hard--in a word, dried up. Morley,
narrating in another place the description of the mummy-case as jotted
down by Von Lorfmon and passed on to Schuyler, mentions the fact that
large portions of seaweed adhered to it--seaweed of a kind found only
at great depths, on the bottom of the ocean. The wood, too, was of a
kind which Von Lorfmon failed to recognize or to classify, in spite of
the fact that he was one of the greatest living authorities on flora.
And his notes again and again emphasize the enormous _age_ of the
thing. He admitted that there was no way of telling how old the mummy
was, but his hints intimate that he believed it to be, not thousands of
years old, but millions of years!
"No. We must face the facts. Since you are positive that the picture
of the mummy is the picture of Kathulos--and there is little room
for fraud--one of two things is practically certain: the Scorpion was
never dead but ages ago was placed in that mummy-case and his life
preserved in some manner, or else--he was dead and has been brought to
life! Either of these theories, viewed in the cold light of reason, is
absolutely untenable. Are we all insane?"
"Had you ever walked the road to hashish land," I said somberly, "you
could believe anything to be true. Had you ever gazed into the terrible
reptilian eyes of Kathulos the sorcerer, you would not doubt that he
was both dead and alive."
Gordon gazed out the window, his fine face haggard in the gray light
which had begun to steal through them.
"At any rate," said he, "there are two places which I intend exploring
thoroughly before the sun rises again--Kamonos' antique shop and Soho
48."
_18. The Grip of the Scorpion_
"While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down."
--Poe.
Hansen snored on the bed as I paced the room. Another day had passed
over London and again the street lamps glimmered through the fog. Their
lights affected me strangely. They seemed to beat, solid waves of
energy, against my brain. They twisted the fog into strange sinister
shapes. Footlights of the stage that is the streets of London, how many
grisly scenes had they lighted? I pressed my hands hard against my
throbbing temples, striving to bring my thoughts back from the chaotic
labyrinth where they wandered.
Gordon I had not seen since dawn. Following the clue of "Soho 48" he
had gone forth to arrange a raid upon the place and he thought it best
that I should remain under cover. He anticipated an attempt upon my
life, and again he feared that if I went searching among the dives I
formerly frequented it would arouse suspicion.
Hansen snored on. I seated myself and began to study the Turkish
shoes which clothed my feet. Zuleika had worn Turkish slippers--how
she floated through my waking dreams, gilding prosaic things with her
witchery! Her face smiled at me from the fog; her eyes shone from the
flickering lamps; her phantom footfalls re-echoed through the misty
chambers of my skull.
They beat an endless tattoo, luring and haunting till it seemed that
these echoes found echoes in the hallway outside the room where I
stood, soft and stealthy. A sudden rap at the door and I started.
Hansen slept on as I crossed the room and flung the door swiftly open.
A swirling wisp of fog had invaded the corridor, and through it, like
a silver veil, I saw her--Zuleika stood before me with her shimmering
hair and her red lips parted and her great dark eyes.
Like a speechless fool I stood and she glanced quickly down the hallway
and then stepped inside and closed the door.
"Gordon!" she whispered in a thrilling undertone. "Your friend! The
Scorpion has him!"
Hansen had awakened and now sat gaping stupidly at the strange scene
which met his eyes.
Zuleika did not heed him.
"And oh, Steephen!" she cried, and tears shone in her eyes, "I have
tried so hard to secure some more elixir but I could not."
"Never mind that," I finally found my speech. "Tell me about Gordon."
"He went back to Kamonos' alone, and Hassim and Ganra Singh took him
captive and brought him to the Master's house. Tonight assemble a
great host of the people of the Scorpion for the sacrifice."
"Sacrifice!" A grisly thrill of horror coursed down my spine. Was there
no limit to the ghastliness of this business?
"Quick, Zuleika, where is this house of the Master's?"
"Soho, 48. You must summon the police and send many men to surround it,
but you must not go yourself----"
Hansen sprang up quivering for action, but I turned to him. My brain
was clear now, or seemed to be, and racing unnaturally.
"Wait!" I turned back to Zuleika. "When is this sacrifice to take
place?"
"At the rising of the moon."
"That is only a few hours before dawn. Time to save him, but if we raid
the house they'll kill him before we can reach them. And God only knows
how many diabolical things guard all approaches."
"I do not know," Zuleika whimpered. "I must go now, or the Master will
kill me."
Something gave way in my brain at that; something like a flood of wild
and terrible exultation swept over me.
"The Master will kill no one!" I shouted, flinging my arms on high.
"Before ever the east turns red for dawn, the Master dies! By all
things holy and unholy I swear it!"
Hansen stared wildly at me and Zuleika shrank back as I turned on her.
To my dope-inspired brain had come a sudden burst of light, true and
unerring. I knew Kathulos was a mesmerist--that he understood fully the
secret of dominating another's mind and soul. And I knew that at last
I had hit upon the reason of his power over the girl. Mesmerism! As a
snake fascinates and draws to him a bird, so the Master held Zuleika to
him with unseen shackles. So absolute was his rule over her that it
held even when she was out of his sight, working over great distances.
There was but one thing which would break that hold: the magnetic
power of some other person whose control was stronger with her than
Kathulos'. I laid my hands on her slim little shoulders and made her
face me.
"Zuleika," I said commandingly, "here you are safe; you shall not
return to Kathulos. There is no need of it. Now you are free."
But I knew I had failed before I ever started. Her eyes held a look of
amazed, unreasoning fear and she twisted timidly in my grasp.
"Steephen, please let me go!" she begged. "I must--I must!"
I drew her over to the bed and asked Hansen for his handcuffs. He
handed them to me, wonderingly, and I fastened one cuff to the bed-post
and the other to her slim wrist. The girl whimpered but made no
resistance, her limpid eyes seeking mine in mute appeal.
It cut me to the quick to enforce my will upon her in this apparently
brutal manner but I steeled myself.
"Zuleika," I said tenderly, "you are now my prisoner. The Scorpion
can not blame you for not returning to him when you are unable to do
so--and before dawn you shall be free of his rule entirely."