"Follow me!" he gasped, glancing back at Gianapolis; "Morbleu, make an effort! The keys—the keys!"
Laying Helen Cumberly upon one of the raised divans, with her head resting upon a silken cushion, Max, teeth tightly clenched and dreadfully conscious that his strength was failing him, waited for Gianapolis. Out from the corridor the Greek came staggering, and Max now perceived that he was bleeding profusely from a wound in the breast.
"She came back," whispered Gianapolis, clutching at the Frenchman for support… "the hellcat!… I did not know… that… Miss Cumberly was here. As God is my witness I did not know! But I followed… HER—Mahara… thank God I did! She has finished me, I think, but"—he lowered the crooked eyes to the form of Helen Cumberly—"never mind… Saints!"
He reeled and sank upon his knees. He clutched at the edge of his coat and raised it to his lips, wherefrom blood was gushing forth. Max stooped eagerly, for as the Greek had collapsed upon the floor, he had heard the rattle of keys.
"She had… the keys," whispered Gianapolis. "They have… tabs… upon them… Mrs. Leroux… number 3 B. The door to the stair"—very, very slowly, he inclined his head toward the ebony door near which Max was standing—"is marked X. The door… at the top—into garage… B."
"Tell me," said Max, his arm about the dying man's shoulders—"try to tell me: who killed Mrs. Vernon and why?"
"MR. KING!" came in a rattling voice. "Because of the… carelessness of someone… Mrs. Vernon wandered into the room … of Mrs. Leroux. She seems to have had a fit of remorse… or something like it. She begged Mrs. Leroux to pull up… before… too late. Ho-Pin arrived just as she was crying to … Mrs. Leroux… and asking if she could ever forgive her … for bringing her here… . It was Mrs. Vernon who… introduced Mrs… . Leroux. Ho-Pin heard her… say that she … would tell… Leroux the truth… as the only means"…
"Yes, yes, morbleu! I understand! And then?"
"Ho-Pin knows… women… like a book. He thought Mrs. Vernon would… shirk the scandal. We used to send our women … to Nurse Proctor's, then… to steady up a bit… We let Mrs. Vernon go… as usual. The scene with… Mrs. Leroux had shaken… her and she fainted… in the car… Victoria Street… . I was with her. Nurse Proctor had… God! I am dying!… a time with her;… she got so hysterical that they had to… detain her… and three days later… her husband died; Proctor, the… fool… somehow left a paper containing the news in Mrs. Vernon's room… . They had had to administer an injection that afternoon… and they thought she was… sleeping."…
"Morbleu! Yes, yes!—a supreme effort, my friend!"
"Directly Ho-Pin heard of Vernon's death, he knew that his hold … on Mrs. Vernon… was lost… . He… and Mahara… and… MR. KING… drove straight to… Gillingham… Street… to… arrange… . Ah!… she rushed like a mad woman into the street, a moment before… they arrived. A cab was passing, and"…
"I know this! I know this! What happened at Palace Mansions?"
The Greek's voice grew fainter.
"Mr. King followed… her… upstairs. Too late;… but whilst Leroux was in… Cumberly's flat… leaving door open … Mr. King went… in… Mahara… was watching… gave signal… whistle… of someone's approach. It was thought… Mr. King… had secured ALL the message… Mrs. Vernon… was… writing… . Mr. King opened the door of … the lift-shaft… lift not working… climbed down that way… and out by door on… ground floor… when Mr… . the Member of Parliament… went upstairs."…
"Ah! pardieu! one last word! WHO IS MR. KING?"
Gianapolis lurched forward, his eyes glazing, half raised his arm—pointing back into the cave of the dragon—and dropped, face downward, on the floor, with a crimson pool forming slowly about his head.
An unfamiliar sound had begun to disturb the silence of the catacombs. Max glanced at the white face of Helen Cumberly, then directed the ray of the little lamp toward the further end of the apartment. A steady stream of dirty water was pouring into the cave of the dragon through the open door ahead of him.
Into the disc of light, leaped, fantastic, the witch figure of the Eurasian. She turned and faced him, threw up both her arms, and laughed shrilly, insanely. Then she turned and ran like a hare, her yellow silk dress gleaming in the moving ray. Inhaling sibilantly, Max leaped after her. In three strides he found his foot splashing in water. An instant he hesitated. Through the corridor ahead of him sped the yellow figure, and right to the end. The seemingly solid wall opened before her; it was another masked door.
Max crossed the threshold hard upon her heels. Three descending steps were ahead of him, and then a long brick tunnel in which swirled fully three feet of water, which, slowly rising, was gradually flooding the cave of the dragon.
On went the Eurasian, up to her waist in the flood, with Max gaining upon her, now, at every stride. There was a damp freshness in the air of the passage, and a sort of mist seemed to float above the water. This mist had a familiar smell… .
They were approaching the river, and there was a fog to-night!
Even as he realized the fact, the quarry vanished, and the ray of light from Max's lamp impinged upon the opening in an iron sluice gate. The Eurasian had passed it, but Max realized that he must lower his head if he would follow. He ducked rapidly, almost touching the muddy water with his face. A bank of yellow fog instantly enveloped him, and he pulled up short, for, instinctively, he knew that another step might precipitate him into the Thames.
He strove to peer about him, but the feeble ray of the lamp was incapable of penetrating the fog. He groped with his fingers, right and left, and presently found slimy wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed the light upon them. They led upward. He mounted cautiously, and was clear of the oily water, now, and upon a sort of gangway above which lowered a green and rotting wooden roof.
Obviously, the tide was rising; and, after seeking vainly to peer through the fog ahead, he turned and descended the steps again, finding himself now nearly up to his armpits in water. He just managed to get in under the sluice gate without actually submerging his head, and to regain the brick tunnel.
He paused for a moment, hoping to be able to lower the gate, but the apparatus was out of his reach, and he had nothing to stand upon to aid him in manipulating it.
Three or four inches of water now flooded the cave of the golden dragon. Max pulled the keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door at the foot of the steps. He turned, resting the electric lamp upon one of the little ebony tables, and lifting Helen Cumberly, carried her half-way up the steps, depositing her there with her back to the wall. He staggered down again; his remarkable physical resources were at an end; it must be another's work to rescue Mrs. Leroux. He stooped over Gianapolis, and turned his head. The crooked eyes glared up at him deathly.
"May the good God forgive you," he whispered. "You tried to make your peace with Him."
The sound of muffled blows began to be audible from the head of the steps. Max staggered out of the cave of the golden dragon. A slight freshness and dampness was visible in its atmosphere, and the gentle gurgling of water broke its heavy stillness. There was a new quality come into it, and, strangely, an old quality gone out from it. As he lifted the lamp from the table—now standing in slowly moving water—the place seemed no longer to be the cave of the golden dragon he had known… .
He mounted the steps again, with difficulty, resting his shaking hands upon the walls. Shattering blows were being delivered upon the door, above.
"Dunbar!" he cried feebly, stepping aside to avoid Helen Cumberly, where she lay. "Dunbar!"…