The Hand Of Fu-Manchu

by Sax Rohmer

  CHAPTER XV

  ZARMI REAPPEARS

  "Come in!" I cried.

  The door opened and a page-boy entered.

  "A cable for Dr. Petrie."

  I started up from my chair. A thousand possibilities--some of a sortto bring dread to my heart--instantly occurred to me. I tore open theenvelope and, as one does, glanced first at the name of the sender.

  It was signed "Karamaneh!"

  "Smith!" I said hoarsely, glancing over the massage, "Karamaneh is onher way to England. She arrives by the _Nicobar_ to-morrow!"

  "Eh?" cried Nayland Smith, in turn leaping to his feet. "She had noright to come alone, unless----"

  The boy, open-mouthed, was listening to our conversation, and Ihastily thrust a coin into his hand and dismissed him. As the doorclosed--

  "Unless what, Smith?" I said, looking my friend squarely in the eyes.

  "Unless she has learnt something, or--is flying away from some one!"

  My mind set in a whirl of hopes and fears, longings and dreads.

  "What do you mean, Smith?" I asked. "This is the place of danger, aswe know to our cost; she was safe in Egypt."

  Nayland Smith commenced one of his restless perambulations, glancingat me from time to time and frequently tugging at the lobe of his ear.

  "_Was_ she safe in Egypt?" he rapped. "We are dealing, remember, withthe Si-Fan, which, if I am not mistaken, is a sort of EleusinianMystery holding some kind of dominion over the eastern mind, andboasting initiates throughout the Orient. It is almost certain thatthere is an Egyptian branch, or group--call it what you will--of thedamnable organization."

  "But Dr. Fu-Manchu----"

  "Dr. Fu-Manchu--for he lives, Petrie! my own eyes bear witness to thefact--Dr. Fu-Manchu is a sort of delegate from the headquarters. Hisprodigious genius will readily enable him to keep in touch with everybranch of the movement, East and West."

  He paused to knock out his pipe into an ashtray and to watch me forsome moments in silence.

  "He may have instructed his Cairo agents," he added significantly.

  "God grant she get to England in safety," I whispered. "Smith! can wemake no move to round up the devils who defy us, here in the veryheart of civilized England? Listen. You will not have forgotten thewild-cat Eurasian Zarmi?"

  Smith nodded. "I recall the lady perfectly!" he snapped.

  "Unless my imagination has been playing me tricks, I have seen hertwice within the last few days--once in the neighborhood of this hoteland once in a cab in Piccadilly."

  "You mentioned the matter at the time," said Smith shortly; "butalthough I made inquiries, as you remember, nothing came of them."

  "Nevertheless, I don't think I was mistaken. I feel in my very bonesthat the Yellow hand of Fu-Manchu is about to stretch out again. Ifonly we could apprehend Zarmi."

  Nayland Smith lighted his pipe with care.

  "If only we could, Petrie!" he said; "but, damn it!"--he dashed hisleft fist into the palm of his right hand--"we are doomed to remaininactive. We can only await the arrival of Karamaneh and see if shehas anything to tell us. I must admit that there are certain theoriesof my own which I haven't yet had an opportunity of testing. Perhapsin the near future such an opportunity may arise."

  How soon that opportunity was to arise neither of us suspected then;but Fate is a merry trickster, and even as we spoke of these mattersevents were brewing which were to lead us along strange paths.

  With such glad anticipations as my pen cannot describe, their gladnessnot unmixed with fear, I retired to rest that night, scarcelyexpecting to sleep, so eager was I for the morrow. The musical voiceof Karamaneh seemed to ring in my ears; I seemed to feel the touchof her soft hands and to detect, as I drifted into the borderlandbetwixt reality and slumber, that faint, exquisite perfume which fromthe first moment of my meeting with the beautiful Eastern girl, hadbecome to me inseparable from her personality.

  It seemed that sleep had but just claimed me when I was awakened bysome one roughly shaking my shoulder. I sprang upright, my mind alertto sudden danger. The room looked yellow and dismal, illuminated as itwas by a cold light of dawn which crept through the window and withwhich competed the luminance of the electric lamps.

  Nayland Smith stood at my bedside, partially dressed!

  "Wake up, Petrie!" he cried; "you instincts serve you better than myreasoning. Hell's afoot, old man! Even as you predicted it, perhaps inthat same hour, the yellow fiends were at work!"

  "What, Smith, what!" I said, leaping out of bed; "you don't mean----"

  "Not that, old man," he replied, clapping his hand upon my shoulder;"there is no further news of _her_, but Weymouth is waiting outside.Sir Baldwin Frazer has disappeared!"

  I rubbed my eyes hard and sought to clear my mind of the vapors ofsleep.

  "Sir Baldwin Frazer!" I said, "of Half-Moon Street? But what----"

  "God knows _what_," snapped Smith; "but our old friend Zarmi, or so itwould appear, bore him off last night, and he has completely vanished,leaving practically no trace behind."

  Only a few sleeping servants were about as we descended the marblestairs to the lobby of the hotel where Weymouth was awaiting us.

  "I have a cab outside from the Yard," he said. "I came straight hereto fetch you before going on to Half-Moon Street."

  "Quite right!" snapped Smith; "but you are sure the cab is from theYard? I have had painful experience of strange cabs recently!"

  "You can trust this one," said Weymouth, smiling slightly. "It hascarried me to the scene of many a crime."

  "Hem!" said Smith--"a dubious recommendation."

  We entered the waiting vehicle and soon were passing through thenearly deserted streets of London. Only those workers whose toilsbegan with the dawn were afoot at that early hour, and in the mistygray light the streets had an unfamiliar look and wore an aspect ofsadness in ill accord with the sentiments which now were stirringwithin me. For whatever might be the fate of the famous mentalspecialist, whatever the mystery before us--even though Dr. Fu-Manchuhimself, malignantly active, threatened our safety--Karamaneh wouldbe with me again that day--Karamaneh, my beautiful wife to be!

  So selfishly occupied was I with these reflections that I paid littleheed to the words of Weymouth, who was acquainting Nayland Smith withthe facts bearing upon the mysterious disappearance of Sir BaldwinFrazer. Indeed, I was almost entirely ignorant upon the subject whenthe cab pulled up before the surgeon's house in Half-Moon Street.

  Here, where all else spoke of a city yet sleeping or but newlyawakened, was wild unrest and excitement. Several servants werehovering about the hall eager to glean any scrap of information thatmight be obtainable; wide-eyed and curious, if not a little fearful.In the somber dining-room with its heavy oak furniture and gleamingsilver, Sir Baldwin's secretary awaited us. He was a young man,fair-haired, clean-shaven and alert; but a real and ever-presentanxiety could be read in his eyes.

  "I am sorry," he began, "to have been the cause of disturbing you atso early an hour, particularly since this mysterious affair may proveto have no connection with the matters which I understand are atpresent engaging your attention."

  Nayland Smith raised his hand deprecatingly.

  "We are prepared, Mr. Logan," he replied, "to travel to the uttermostends of the earth at all times, if by doing so we can obtain even ameager clue to the enigma which baffles us."

  "I should not have disturbed Mr. Smith," said Weymouth, "if I had notbeen pretty sure that there was Chinese devilry at work here: norshould I have told you as much as I have, Mr. Logan," he added, ahumorous twinkle creeping into his blue eyes, "if I had thought youcould not be of use to us in unraveling our case!"

  "I quite understand that," said Logan, "and now, since you have votedfor the story first and refreshments afterward, let me tell you whatlittle I know of the matter."

  "Be as brief as you can," snapped Nayland Smith, starting up from thechair in which he had been seated and beginning restlessly to pacethe floor before the ope
n fireplace--"as brief as is consistent withclarity. We have learnt in the past that an hour or less sometimesmeans the difference between----"

  He paused, glancing at Sir Baldwin's secretary.

  "Between life and death," he added.

  Mr. Logan started perceptibly.

  "You alarm me, Mr. Smith," he declared; "for I can conceive of noearthly manner in which this mysterious Eastern organization of whichInspector Weymouth speaks, could profit by the death of Sir Baldwin."

  Nayland Smith suddenly turned and stared grimly at the speaker.

  "I call it death," he said harshly, "to be carried off to the interiorof China, to be made a mere slave, having no will but the great andevil man who already--already, mark you!--has actually accomplishedsuch things."

  "But Sir Baldwin----"

  "Sir Baldwin Frazer," snapped Smith, "is the undisputed head of hisparticular branch of surgery. Dr. Fu-Manchu may have what he deemsuseful employment for such skill as his. But," glancing at the clock,"we are wasting time. Your story, Mr. Logan."

  "It was about half-past twelve last night," began the secretary,closing his eyes as if he were concentrating his mind upon certainpast events, "when a woman came here and inquired for Sir Baldwin.The butler informed her that Sir Baldwin was entertaining friends andthat he could receive no professional visitors until the morning.She was so insistent, however, absolutely declining to go away, thatI was sent for--I have rooms in the house--and I came down to interviewher in the library."

  "Be very accurate, Mr. Logan," interrupted Smith, "in your descriptionof this visitor."

  "I shall do my best," pursued Logan, closing his eyes again inconcentrated thought. "She wore evening dress, of a fantastic kind,markedly Oriental in character, and had large gold rings in her ears.A green embroidered shawl, with raised figures of white birds as adesign, took the place of a cloak. It was certainly of Easternworkmanship, possibly Arab; and she wore it about her shoulders withone corner thrown over her head--again, something like a _burnous_. Shewas extremely dark, had jet-black, frizzy hair and very remarkableeyes, the finest of their type I have ever seen. She possessed beautyof a sort, of course, but without being exactly vulgar, it was what Imay term _ostentatious;_ and as I entered the library I found myselfat a loss to define her exact place in society--you understand whatI mean?"

  We all nodded comprehendingly and awaited with intense interest theresumption of the story. Mr. Logan had vividly described the EurasianZarmi, the creature of Dr. Fu-Manchu.

  "When the woman addressed me," he continued, "my surmise that she wassome kind of half-caste, probably a Eurasian, was confirmed by herbroken English. I shall not be misunderstood"--a slight embarrassmentbecame perceptible in his manner--"if I say that the visitor quiteopenly tried to bewitch me; and since we are all human, you willperhaps condone my conduct when I add that she succeeded, in a measure,inasmuch as I consented to speak to Sir Baldwin, although he wasactually playing bridge at the time.

  "Either my eloquence, or, to put it bluntly, the extraordinary feewhich the woman offered, resulted in Sir Baldwin's agreeing to abandonhis friends and accompany the visitor in a cab which was waiting tosee the patient."

  "And who was the patient?" rapped Smith.

  "According to the woman's account, the patient was her mother, whohad met with a street accident a week before. She gave the name ofthe consultant who had been called in, and who, she stated, hadadvised the opinion of Sir Baldwin. She represented that the matterwas urgent, and that it might be necessary to perform an operationimmediately in order to save the patient's life."

  "But surely," I interrupted, in surprise, "Sir Baldwin did not takehis instruments?"

  "He took his case with him--yes," replied Logan; "for he in turnyielded to the appeals of the visitor. The very last words that Iheard him speak as he left the house were to assure her that no suchoperation could be undertaken at such short notice in that way."

  Logan paused, looking around at us a little wearily.

  "And what aroused your suspicions?" said Smith.

  "My suspicions were aroused at the very moment of Sir Baldwin'sdeparture, for as I came out onto the steps with him I noticed asingular thing."

  "And that was?" snapped Smith.

  "Directly Sir Baldwin had entered the cab the woman got out," repliedLogan with some excitement in his manner, "and reclosing the doortook her seat beside the driver of the vehicle--which immediatelymoved off."

  Nayland Smith glanced significantly at me.

  "The cab trick again, Petrie!" he said; "scarcely a doubt of it." Then,to Logan: "Anything else?"

  "This," replied the secretary: "I thought, although I could not besure, that the face of Sir Baldwin peered out of the window for amoment as the cab moved away from the house, and that there wasstrange expression upon it, almost a look of horror. But of course asthere was no light in the cab and the only illumination was that fromthe open door, I could not be sure."

  "And now tell Mr. Smith," said Weymouth, "how you got confirmation ofyour fears."

  "I felt very uneasy in my mind," continued Logan, "for the wholething was so irregular, and I could not rid my memory of the idea ofSir Baldwin's face looking out from the cab window. Therefore I rangup the consultant whose name our visitor had mentioned."

  "Yes?" cried Smith eagerly.

  "He knew nothing whatever of the matter," said Logan, "and had no suchcase upon his books! That of course put me in a dreadful state of mind,but I was naturally anxious to avoid making a fool of myself andtherefore I waited for some hours before mentioning my suspicions toany one. But when the morning came and no message was received Idetermined to communicate with Scotland Yard. The rest of the mysteryit is for you, gentlemen, to unravel."