"I know I'm right! When I went round there in my monkish disguise he was snoring like an elephant! But please go on."
To the best of my ability I outlined what Rima had told me of her mood of passive terror. I tried to explain that I had reassured her and had finally parted from her confident that she was restored to normal; but:
"There's something wrong," Nayland Smith rapped irritably; "and time is impor- tant. She went out of the library--111 swear, to fetch something--just before you came in, and she opened and then reclosed the windows." "I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "Ssh! "
"I had overlooked it, Sir Denis--although it isn't of the slightest importance. She had gone to her room to get a scent-spray containing eau-de-Cologne."
Nayland Smith, who had been walking across and across the rug beside the bed, pulled up with a jerk.
"Not of the slightest importance? It's what I've been waiting to hear! At least I understand the strong smell of eau-de- Cologne which I detected on the terrace outside the library.... Quick! You are privi- leged.... Steal along to Rima's room. Take your shoes off. Go by the balcony. Her window is open, no doubt. If she's awake-- which I think unlikely--ask her for the eau-de-Cologne bottle. Explain things how you like. If she's asleep, find it--and bring it to me! Take this torch...."
5
The strange theft was accomplished without a hitch. Rima slept soundly. Although her dressing-table was littered with bottles, I found the spray easily enough--for it was the only one of its kind there. I hurried back to my room.
Nayland Smith took it from my hands as though it had been a live bomb. He opened the door and went out. I heard him turn a tap on in the bathroom. Then he returned-- carrying the spray. I saw that it was still half full.
"Take it back," he directed.
And I replaced it on Rima's dressing-table without arousing her.
"Good," Smith acknowledged. "Now we enter a province of surmise."
He began to pace the mat again, deep in thought; then:
"I am the likeliest!" he snapped suddenly; and although I couldn't imagine what he meant, went on immediately:
"Conceal yourself in the south comer of the balcony. The ivy is thick there. Keep your shoes off. We must be silent."
As the paving was still wet, my prospect was poor; but:
"If anyone moves in Rima's room," he continued rapidly, "don't stir. If anyone comes out on to the balcony--watch. But whoever it is, do nothing. Just watch. If necessary, follow, but don't speak and don't be discovered. Off you go, Greville!"
I had already started,when:
"It may be a bit of an ordeal," he added, "but I count on you."
Past the open window of Smith's room I went and past that, closed, which belonged to the vacant room. Then, creeping silently, I went by Rima's window and crouched down among a tangle of wet ivy in the comer formed by a stone balustrade.
The sky directly above was cloudless again, and part of the balcony gleamed phan- tomesque in silvery moonlight. But, another part, including the comer in which I lay concealed, was in deep shadow. From some- where a long way off--perhaps over the sea-- came dim drumming of thunder. About me whispered leaves of rain-drenched foliage.
I saw Nayland Smith go into his room.
What were we waiting for?
Abbots Hold was silent. Nothing stirred, until a soft fluttering immediately above me set my heart thumping.
An owl swept out from the eaves and disappeared in the direction of the big planta- tion. From some reed bed of the near-by river a disturbed lapwing gave her eerie, peewit cry. The cry was repeated; then answered far away. Silence fell once more.
My post was a cold and uncomfortable one. It was characteristic ofNayland Smith that he took no count of such details where either himself or another was concerned. The job in hand overrode in importance any such trivial considerations.
Presently I heard the big library clock strike--and I counted the strokes mechanically.
Midnight.
I reflected that in London, now, folk would just be finishing supper.
Then... I saw her!
I suppose--I hope--I shall never again experience just the sort of shock which gripped my heart at this moment. Vaguely, I had imagined that our purpose was protec- tive; that I was on guard because Rima's safety was at stake in some way. To the mystery ofNayland Smith's words, "I am the likeliest," I had failed all along to discover any solution.
Now, the solution came... hazily at first.
Rima, a fairy gossamer figure in the moonlight, came out barefooted on to the terrace!
Unhesitatingly, she turned right, passed the vacant room and entered the open window of that occupied by Nayland Smith! I could not believe the evidence of my senses. Just in the nick of time I checked her name as it leaped to my lips.
"... You must be silent. It may be a bit of an ordeal--but I count on you...."
Rising slowly to my feet, I stole along the terrace. The moon shone into Smith's room as it shone into mine. Just before reaching the window, I dropped down on my knees and cautiously craned forward to peer in.
Nayland Smith was in bed, the sheets drawn up to his chin. His eyes were closed... and Rima stood beside him.
Something that had puzzled me in that first stunning moment now resolved itself-- grotesquely. I had realized that Rima carried a glittering object. I saw it clearly as I peered into the room.
It was the scent-spray!
And, as I watched, I saw her stoop and spray the face of the motionless man in the bed!
She turned.... She was coming out again.
I drew back and hurried to my shadowy comer. Rima appeared in the moonlight. She looked unnaturally pale. But with never a glance to right or left she walked to her room and went in. Her eyes were wide-open-- staring.
Absolute silence....
Then Nayland Smith appeared. He was fully dressed but he had removed his shoes.
He signalled to me to approach Rima's window. A man stupefied--horror, amaze- ment, incredulity, each fighting for a place--I obeyed. Dropping to my knees again, I peered in....
Rima, at the green marble wash-basin, was emptying the scent-spray! She allowed hot water to run for some time, and then carefully rinsed the container and the fitting. Replacing the latter in position, she put the bottle on the dressing-table where I had found it... and went to bed!
Nayland Smith beckoned to me. I rose and walked very unsteadily along the terrace to his room.
6
"Rima!" I said. "Rima! My God, Sir Denis, what does it mean?"
He grasped by shoulder hard.
"Nothing," he replied.
His keen eyes studied my amazement.
"Nothing? "
"Just that--nothing. I warned you it might prove to be an ordeal. Sit down. A peg of whisky will do us both good...."
I sat down without another word. And Nayland Smith brewed two stiff pegs.
Handing one to me:
"Here's part of the explanation," he jerked --and held a book under my nose. "Smell. Only one sniff!"
A sickly-sweet odour came from the open pages. The book was that which Rima had been reading in the library.
"Familiar?"
I nodded; and took a long drink. My hand was none too steady. It was a perfume I could never forget. It formed my last memory of the meeting of the Seven at el-Kharga; my first memory of that dreadful awakening in the green-gold room in Limehouse!
"Hashish!" snapped Nayland Smith--"or something prepared from it. Rima, by means of this doped book, was put into a receptive condition. It's a routine, Greville, with which Petrie is unhappily familiar... hence Petrie's detention on the way!
"Fah Lo Suee is an accomplished hypnotist! For this piece of knowledge I am also indebted to the doctor: he once all but succumbed to her... and she was only in her teens in those days. She was posted outside the closed french windows of the library tonight. In some way, and at the psychological moment, she attracted Rima's attention--and obtained mental control over her. "