"Why do you assume my father to be dead?" she asked.
Nayland Smith exchanged a rapid glance with me; then:
"I don't assume anything of the kind," he rapped, with all his old vigour. "I know he's alive! "
"How do you know? "
"That is my business. Kindly confine yourself to a statement of your own."
There were some moments of silence; then:
"Dr. Fu Manchu," said Fah Lo Suee, "is alive--yes. You were always a clever man, Sir Denis. But his age prohibits travel."
I dared not trust myself to look at Nayland Smith. It was incredible.
She didn't know that Fu Manchu was in England!
Smith made no reply.
"The work that he laid down," Fah Lo Suee went on, "I have taken up. The Si Fan, Sir Denis, is a power again. But time is precious. The unforeseen visit of Superintendent Weymouth delayed me. There are only two members in England now. They are in this house. They will leave with me.... Shan, do you choose that yourself and Rima shall travel as baggage, or will you bow to the inevitable? "
"Agree!" rapped Nayland Smith. "A hundred chances of helping the world present themselves to live man--but not to a synthetic corpse. "
"Shan!"
Rima wild-eyed, was staring at me. She sprung up from her chair.
"What?" I asked dully.
"I don't know the meaning of it all--I can only guess; but you wouldn't bargain, Shan?"
Nayland Smith caught my wandering glance, and:
"He would, Rima," he answered. "So would I--if I had the chance! Don't be foolish, little lady. This isn't a game of tennis. It's a game of which you don't know the rules. There's only one thing to play for... life. Because, while one of us lives, there's always a chance that that one may win!-- Agree, Greville! It's nine thousand miles to China--and with two active brains alert, anything may happen."
I closed my eyes. This was agony. An age seemed to pass. Had Nayland Smith some scheme behind his words? And where did my duty lie?... My duty to Rima; my duty to the world....
"I will agree," I said at last--and my voice was one I could never have recognized, "on the distinct understanding that Rima is not to be harmed or molested in any way--and that Sir Denis is released to-night."
Opening my eyes, I glanced quickly at Fah Lo Suee. Her expression was inscrutable. I looked at Rima. She was staring at me--an uncomprehending stare.... Lastly I looked at Nayland Smith.
His steely eyes regarded me wistfully. He twisted his lips in a wry grimace and shook his head, as:
"Your second condition is impossible," Fah Lo Suee replied.
And as she spoke the miracle happened; the thing of which to this very hour I some- times doubt the reality, seeming, as it does now, rather part of a fevered dream than an actual occurrence.
I don't know what prompted me, as that bell-like voice ceased, to look again at Rima. But I did so.
She was staring past me--at the lacquer cabinet where Kali sat--the hidden doorway Fah Lo Suee had closed again. I twisted around.
Very slowly--inch by inch--inch by inch --the door was opening! Then, suddenly, it was opened wide. Out of the darkness beyond two figures came; first, the Dyak, who, instant on entering the room, turned again to the lacquered door and dropped on his knees; second the Nubian--who also prostrated himself!
Thirdly, and last, came a figure whose image must remain imprinted on my mind for ever....
It was that of a very tall old man; emaci- ated to a degree which I had hitherto associ- ated only .with mummies. His great height was not appreciable at first glance, by reason of the fact that he stooped very much, resting his weight on a stout stick. He wore a plain black garment, resembling a cassock, and a little black cap was set on his head....
His skull--his fleshless yellow skull--was enormous. I thought that such a brain must be that either of a madman or a genius. And his face, a map of wrinkles, resembled nothing so much as the shrivelled majesty of the Pharaoh Seti I who lies in the Cairo Museum!
Deeply sunken eyes emitted a dull green spark.
But this frail old man radiated such power that I was chilled--it seemed to be physical; I could not have experienced a more dreadful sense of impotent horror if the long-dead Pharoah himself had appeared before me....
Those sunken, commanding eyes ignored my existence. Their filmy but potent regard passed the grovelling men, passed me, and was set upon Fah Lo Suee. Then came a sibilant command, utterly beyond my powers to describe:
"Kneel, little thiefl I am standing...."
I twisted around.
Fah Lo Suee, a chalky quality tingeing the peach bloom of her skin, had lowered that insolent head! As I turned, staring, she dropped to her knees!
And now I saw that Nayland Smith, bound as he was, arms and ankles, had got to his feet. Through the tropical yellow of his complexion, through the artificial stain which still lingered, he had paled.
The hissing voice spoke again.
"Greeting, Sir Denis. Be seated."
Smith's teeth were clenched so hard that his jaw muscles stood out lumpishly. But, relaxing and speaking in a low, even tone:
"Greetings," he replied, "Dr. Fu Manchu."
4
Three times, heavily, Dr. Fu Manchu beat his stick upon the floor.
Two Burmans came in and saluted him.
I knew them. They were the dacoits who had been present at the Council of Seven in el-Kharga.
Dr. Fu Manchu advanced into the room. Extending a bony, clawlike hand, he indicated the kneeling Fah Lo Suee.
And, without a word or glance, eyes lowered, Fah Lo Suee went out with her dreadful escort! It was in my heart to pity her, so utterly was she fallen, so slavishly did that proud woman bow her head to this terrible, imperious old man.
As he passed the prostrate figures of the Nubian and the Dyak, walking heavily and slowly, he touched them each with his stick. He spoke in a low voice, gutturally. They sprang up and approached Rima! Throughout this extraordinary scene, which had passed much more quickly than its telling conveys, Rima had remained seated-- stupefied. Now, realising the meaning of Fu Manchu's last order, she stood up--horror in her eyes.
"Shan! Shan!" she cried. "What is he going to do to me?"
Dr. Fu Manchu beat upon the floor again and spoke one harsh word. The Nubian and the Dyak stood still. No sergeant of the Guards ever had more complete control of men.
"Miss Barton," he said, his voice altering uncannily between the sibilant and the guttural and seeming to be produced with difficulty, "your safety is assured. I wish to be alone with Sir Denis and Mr. Greville. For your greater ease, Sir Denis will tell you that my word is my bond."
He turned those sunken filmed eyes in the direction of the big arm-chair and:
"You needn't worry, Rima," said Nayland Smith. "Dr. Fu Manchu guarantees your safety."
I was amazed beyond reason. Even so fortified, Rima's eyes were dark with terror. A swift flow of words brought the Dyak sharply about to take his instructions. Then he and the Nubian escorted Rima from the room.
I tugged, groaning, at the cords which held me. I stared at Nayland Smith. Was he holding a candle to the devil? How could a sane man accept the assurances of such a proven criminal?
But, as though my ideas had been spoken aloud:
"Do not misjudge Sir Denis," came the harsh voice. "He knows that in warfare I am remorseless. But he knows also that no mandarin of my order has ever willingly broken his promise."
The Nubian had closed the door leading to the lobby. Dr. Fu Manchu had closed that of the false cabinet as he came into the room. No sound entered the arena where this menace to white supremacy and the man whose defences had defied him confronted one another.
5
"It is a strange fact." said Dr. Fu Manchu, "that only the circumstance of your being a prisoner allows of our present conversation."