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!
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!
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.
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.
A slight noise disturbed these unpleasant reveries. It was nothing less
than the rattling of keys!
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.
And now my heart leaped wildly--then seemed to stand still.
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.
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.
One of those keys might be that of the handcuffs!
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?
But they were not yet in my possession; moreover, the key of the
handcuffs might not be amongst the bunch.
Were there no means whereby I could induce the marmoset to approach me?
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.
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.
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.
“Ta’ala hina!” it called. “Ta’ala hina, Peko!”
It was Karamaneh!
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.
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.
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....
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.
It was one of the poignant moments of my life; for by that simple act
all my hopes had been shattered!
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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...”
There was appeal in the soft voice, but I laughed mockingly, and threw
myself back upon the divan.
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!
Suddenly she stood up, taking the keys in her hands, and approached me.
“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.”
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.
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.
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.
“Look!” she whispered.
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.
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.
“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.”
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.
“Thank you, Karamaneh,” I said, softly.
She suppressed a little cry as I spoke her name, and drew back into the
shadows.
“I believe you are my friend,” I said, “but I cannot understand. Won’t
you help me to understand?”
I took her unresisting hand, and drew her toward me. My very soul seemed
to thrill at the contact of her lithe body...
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.
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?
In a choking whisper Karamaneh answered my unspoken question.
“He has not seen me! I have done much for you; do in return a small
thing for me. Save my life!”
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.
“Lock them upon me!” she said, rapidly. “Quick! quick!”
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.
“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!”
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.
Dr. Fu-Manchu was entering the room immediately beyond.
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.
I turned desperately and hurled the bunch of keys with all my force into
the dimly-seen face...
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...
A vise-like grip fastened upon my left ankle.
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!
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.
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...
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.
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.
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!
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.
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...
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.
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.
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.
The sound of running footsteps came from the direction of New Oxford
Street. I turned--to see two policemen bearing down upon me!
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!
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.
“Dr. Cleeve’s, Harley Street!” I shouted at the man. “Drive like hell!
It’s an urgent case.”
I leaped into the cab.
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.
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.