“Have you got her, Greville? Is she safe?” the chief asked hoarsely.
“Yes, she’s with Petrie. She’s broken down, poor little lady—and I don’t wonder,” Nayland Smith replied. “But she’s come to no harm, Barton. Keep out of the way—leave her to Petrie.”
“Where has she been? How did it happen?”
“It’s impossible to ask until the nerve storm has worn itself out. Anything to report, Hewlett?”
Tm staggered. Sir Denis! But thank God you have Miss Barton! There’s only one thing. A few minutes after you went in, as we were closing up on the Pyramid, we heard a most awful wailing sound....”
“A bull-roarer. Smith!” the chief shouted. “But God knows where the nigger was hidden: we never had a glimpse of him.”
Nayland Smith glanced aside at me.
“Possibly the opposite number of the gong signal,” he whispered. “But what came first?—and how did one signaler hear the other?”
I saw Hewlett glancing at the dial of an illuminated wrist watch.
“Three minutes to go. Sir Denis,” he announced. “How many are inside?”
“One only,” Nayland Smith replied, in a curiously dull voice.
“Only one!” the chief cried incredulously.
“One, but the biggest one of all.”
“What! You don’t mean...”
“Exactly what I do mean. Barton. We left Dr. Fu Manchu alone in the King’s Chamber.”
“Good God! Then for all his cunning—”
“He’s trapped!” Hewlett concluded. “How he got in, and how he got Miss Barton in, is entirely beyond me. But that he can never get out, is certain.”
He spoke truly; for other than the Grand Hall or Great Corridor along which we had recently come, there is no entrance to the King’s Chamber—and the two exits from the Pyramid were guarded.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND
I SEE EL MOKANNA
Dr. Petrie gave Rima a sleeping draught and saw her off to bed in the big hotel on the edge of the desert. In spite of all our precautions, news had leaked out that something was afoot.
Whereas, at the time of our arrival, the place had been quiet, with few lights showing, now an air of excitement prevailed. People who seemed to have hastily dressed were standing about in groups. We had smuggled Rima in by a side entrance. But in the lobby and on the terrace outside I met many curious glances.
And there was another, altogether more disturbing circumstance. In the roadway, and by the gate usually haunted by dragomans during the day, a group of some forty natives had assembled, of a type not usually met with there. They were men from the desert villages for the most part, and although all were oddly silent, I overheard several furtive asides which I construed as definitely hostile.
I recognized the black turbans of the Rifaiyeh and the red of the Ahmadiyeh. Senussi I saw among them too—and the white headdresses of many Kadiriyeh....
These were the dervishes who had gathered at Gizeh Ullage!
Wildly impatient as I was to join the party at the Pyramid, it was impossible for me to leave for some time. Petrie was with Rima, whom he had placed under the care of a resident nurse. She kept waking up and calling piteously for me. Twice I had been brought to her room to pacify her. Her frame of mind was most mysterious. She seemed to be obsessed with the idea that some harm had befallen me.
The second time, after she had gone to sleep contentedly, clasping my hand, I had managed to slip away without awakening her. And now, as I roamed restlessly about the lobby. Dr. Petrie suddenly appeared.
“She’s right enough now, Greville,” he reported, “and Mrs. Adams is with her. A most reliable woman.”
“Dare we start?” I asked.
“Certainly! my car’s outside. But we shall be too late for——”
I knew what he would have said; equally, I knew why he hesitated. The physical facts of the situation were beyond dispute; but the more I had considered the matter, the more clearly I had appreciated the fact that a man of Dr. Fu Manchu’s intellect would never voluntarily have walked into such a mouse trap.
No one knew how he had entered the Pyramid nor how Rima had been taken there. Furthermore, he had introduced that singular lamp into the place, the table and the Arab chair. Now, in addition, he had the relics of the Prophet.
As we walked down the sanded drive to the road, observed with great curiosity by several residents who obviously suspected that our business was a strange one, we came face to face with that ominous gathering of Arabs near the gate. I saw at a glance that reinforcements had joined them. The black turbans of the Rifaiyeh predominated now. “This looks unwholesome, Greville,” said Petrie in an undertone. “What are all these fellows doing here at this time of night?”
“They are the dervishes! Evidently they assembled at Gizeh Village and then marched here. I have been prowling about for some time, waiting for reports about Rima, and I watched them gathering.”
We were among them now. Although they made way for us, I liked their attitude less and less.
“Tribesmen of some sort,” said Petrie close to my ear. “Except in ones and twos, these birds are rarely seen.”
As we reached his car, which stood a little to the left of the entrance, I looked back uneasily. The dervishes seemed to be watching us.
“What the devil’s afoot?” Petrie asked, grasping the wheel. “I should think they meant mischief, if they were armed.”
He started slowly up the slope; and as we passed that silent company I looked into many flashing eyes close beside the window. But no one attempted to obstruct us.
“A very queer business,” Petrie muttered. “Smith should know at once. It can hardly be a coincidence.”
We met several stragglers of the same type on that short winding road which leads up to the plateau, presumably going to join those already assembled outside Mena House. But the doctor’s mind, as well as my own, now focused upon the major problem; and as we turned the final bend and the great black mass of the Pyramid loomed above us:
“You know, Greville,” said Petrie, “a load has been lifted from my mind. Honestly, I don’t think the possession of the relics of Mokanna will do much to help the movement. Rima’s safety would be cheap at the price of every relic in the Cairo Museum.”
“I feel much the same about it,” I admitted. “Although, of course, those things are unique.”
“Unique be damned!” said Petrie. “Hello! who’s this?”
It was a police officer standing with upraised arm.
“You can’t pass this way, sir,” he shouted, and came forward as Petrie pulled up.
We both got out, but the night, as I have said, was very dark. And as we did so, the policeman directed the ray of the lamp upon us.
“Oh!” he added. “It’s Dr. Greville and Mr. Petrie, isn’t it?”
Petrielaughed.
“The other way about, officer,” he replied.
“You’ll have to walk from here. Those are my orders, sir.”
“It makes no difference. We couldn’t have driven much further, anyway. Is there any news?”
“Not that I’ve heard, sir. I understand that they’re still searching inside——”
“What!” I exclaimed. “There’s nothing to search—only two rooms. That is, unless they’re searching Davidson’s shaft.”
“Come on, Greville,” said Petrie curtly. “Let’s go and see for ourselves. You may be of use here. You ought to know every nook and cranny of the place.”