by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER XXXII
SHRINE OF SEVEN LAMPS
Never can I forget that nightmare apartment, that efreet's hall. Itwas identical in shape with the room of the adjoining house throughwhich I had come, but its walls were draped in somber black and adead black carpet covered the entire floor. A golden curtain--similarto that which concealed me--broke the somber expanse of the end wallto my right, and the door directly opposite my hiding-place was closed.
Across the gold curtain, wrought in glittering black, were sevencharacters, apparently Chinese; before it, supported upon seven ebonypedestals, burned seven golden lamps; whilst, dotted about the blackcarpet, were seven gold-lacquered stools, each having a black cushionset before it. There was no sign of the marmoset; the incredible roomof black and gold was quite empty, with a sort of stark emptiness thatseemed to oppress my soul.
Close upon the booming of the gong followed a sound of many footstepsand a buzz of subdued conversation. Keeping well back in the welcomeshadow I watched, with bated breath, the opening of the doorimmediately opposite.
The outer sides of its leaves proved to be of gold, and one glimpse ofthe room beyond awoke a latent memory and gave it positive form. I hadbeen in this house before; it was in that room with the golden doorthat I had had my memorable interview with the mandarin Ki-Ming! Myexcitement grew more and more intense.
Singly, and in small groups, a number of Orientals came in. All woreEuropean, or semi-European garments, but I was enabled to identify twofor Chinamen, two for Hindus and three for Burmans. Other Asiaticsthere were, also, whose exact place among the Eastern races I couldnot determine; there was at least one Egyptian and there were severalEurasians; no women were present.
Standing grouped just within the open door, the gathering of Orientalskept up a ceaseless buzz of subdued conversation; then, abruptly,stark silence fell, and through a lane of bowed heads, Ki-Ming, thefamous Chinese diplomat, entered, smiling blandly, and took his seatupon one of the seven golden stools. He wore the picturesque yellowrobe, trimmed with marten fur, which I had seen once before, and heplaced his pearl-encircled cap, surmounted by the coral ball denotinghis rank, upon the black cushion beside him.
Almost immediately afterward entered a second and even more strikingfigure. It was that of a Lama monk! He was received with the samemarks of deference which had been accorded the mandarin; and heseated himself upon another of the golden stools.
Silence, a moment of hushed expectancy, and ... yellow-robed, immobile,his wonderful, evil face emaciated by illness, but his long, magneticeyes blazing greenly, as though not a soul but an elemental spiritdwelt within that gaunt, high-shouldered body, Dr. Fu-Manchu entered,slowly, leaning upon a heavy stick!
The realities seemed to be slipping from me; I could not believe thatI looked upon a material world. This had been a night of wonders,having no place in the life of a sane, modern man, but belonging tothe days of the jinn and the Arabian necromancers.
Fu-Manchu was greeted by a universal raising of hands, but in completesilence. He also wore a cap surmounted by a coral ball, and this heplaced upon one of the black cushions set before a golden stool. Then,resting heavily upon his stick, he began to speak--in French!
As on listens to a dream-voice, I listened to that, alternatelygutteral and sibilant, of the terrible Chinese doctor. He wasdefending himself! With what he was charged by his sinister brethrenI knew not nor could I gather from his words, but that he wasrendering account of his stewardship became unmistakable. Scarcecrediting my senses, I heard him unfold to his listeners details ofcrimes successfully perpetrated, and with the results of some of theseI was but too familiar; other there were in the ghastly cataloguewhich had been accomplished secretly. Then my blood froze with horror.My own name was mentioned--and that of Nayland Smith! We two stood inthe way of the coming of one whom he called the Lady of the Si-Fan,in the way of Asiatic supremacy.
A fantastic legend once mentioned to me by Smith, of some womancherished in a secret fastness of Hindustan who was destined one dayto rule the world, now appeared, to my benumbed senses, to be theunquestioned creed of the murderous, cosmopolitan group known as theSi-Fan! At every mention of her name all heads were bowed in reverence.
Dr. Fu-Manchu spoke without the slightest trace of excitement; heassured his auditors of his fidelity to their cause and proposed toprove to them that he enjoyed the complete confidence of the Lady ofthe Si-Fan.
And with every moment that passed the giant intellect of the speakerbecame more and more apparent. Years ago Nayland Smith had asssure methat Dr. Fu-Manchu was a linguist who spoke with almost equal facilityin any of th civilized languages and in most of the barbaric; now thetruth of this was demonstrated. For, following some passage whichmight be susceptible of misconstruction, Fu-Manchu would turn slightly,and elucidate his remarks, addressing a Chinaman in Chinese, a Hinduin Hindustanee, or an Egyptian in Arabic.
His auditors were swayed by the magnetic personality of the speaker,as reeds by a breeze; and now I became aware of a curiouscircumstance. Either because they and I viewed the character of thisgreat and evil man from a widely dissimilar aspect, or because, mypresence being unknown to him, I remained outside the radius of hispower, it seemed to me that these members of the evidently vastorganization known as the Si-Fan were dupes, to a man, of the Chineseorator! It seemed to me that he used them as an instrument, playingupon their obvious fanaticism, string by string, as a player upon anEastern harp, and all the time weaving harmonies to suit some giant,incredible scheme of his own--a scheme over and beyond any of whichthey had dreamed, in the fruition whereof they had no part--of thetrue nature and composition of which they had no comprehension.
"Not since the day of the first Yuan Emperor," said Fu-Manchusibilantly, "has Our Lady of the Si-Fan--to look upon upon whom,unveiled, is death--crossed the sacred borders. To-day I am a mansupremely happy and honored above my deserts. You shall all partakewith me of that happiness, that honor...."
Again the gong sounded seven times, and a sort of magnetic thrillseemed to pass throughout the room. There followed a faint, musicalsound, like the tinkle of a silver bell.
All heads were lowered, but all eyes upturned to the golden curtain.Literally holding my breath, in those moments of intense expectancy,I watched the draperies parted from the center and pulled aside byunseen agency.
A black covered dais was revealed, bearing an ebony chair. And seatedin the chair, enveloped from head to feet in a shimmering white veil,was a woman. A sound like a great sigh arose from the gathering. Thewoman rose slowly to her feet, and raised her arms, which wereexquisitely formed, and of the uniform hue of old ivory, so that theveil fell back to her shoulders, revealing the green snake banglewhich she wore. She extended her long, slim hands as if in benediction;the silver bell sounded ... and the curtain dropped again, entirelyobscuring the dais!
Frankly, I thought myself mad; for this "lady of the Si-Fan" was noneother than my mysterious traveling companion! This was some solemn farcewith which Fu-Manchu sought to impress his fanatical dupes. And he hadsucceeded; they were inspired, their eyes blazed. Here were men capableof any crime in the name of the Si-Fan!
Every face within my ken I had studied individually, and now slowlyand cautiously I changed my position, so that a group of three membersstanding immediately to the right of the door came into view. One ofthem--a tall, spare, and closely bearded man whom I took for some kindof Hindu--had removed his gaze from the dais and was glancingfurtively all about him. Once he looked in my direction, and my heartleapt high, then seemed to stop its pulsing.
An overpowering consciousness of my danger came to me; a dimenvisioning of what appalling fate would be mine in the event ofdiscovery. As those piercing eyes were turned away again, I drew back,step my step.
Dropping upon my knees, I began to feel for the gap in theconservatory wall. The desire to depart from the house of the Si-Fanwas become urgent. Once safely away, I could take the necessary stepsto ensure the apprehension of th
e entire group. What a triumph wouldbe mine!
I found the opening without much difficulty and crept through into theempty house. The vague light which penetrated the linen blinds servedto show me the length of the empty, tiled apartment. I had actuallyreached the French window giving access to the drawing-room, when--theskirl of a police whistle split the stillness ... and the sound camefrom the house which I had just quitted!
To write that I was amazed were to achieve the banal. Rigid withwonderment I stood, and clutched at the open window. So I was standing,a man of stone, when the voice, the high-pitched, imperious,unmistakable voice of _Nayland Smith,_ followed sharply upon the skirlof the whistle:--
"Watch those French windows, Weymouth! I can hold the door!"
Like a lightning flash it came to me that the tall Hindu had been noneother than Smith disguised. From the square outside came a suddenturmoil, a sound of racing feet, of smashing glass, of doors burstforcibly open. Palpably, the place was surrounded; this was anorganized raid.
Irresolute, I stood there in the semi-gloom--inactive from amaze of itall--whilst sounds of a tremendous struggle proceeded from the squaregap in the partition.
"Lights!" rose a cry, in Smith's voice again--"they have cut thewires!"
At that I came to my senses. Plunging my hand into my pocket, Isnatched out the electric lamp ... and stepped back quickly into theutter gloom of the room behind me.
Some one was crawling through the aperture into the conservatory!
As I watched I saw him, in the dim light, stoop to replace the movablepanel. Then, tapping upon the tiled floor as he walked, the fugitiveapproached me. He was but three paces from the French window when Ipressed the button of my lamp and directed its ray fully upon his face.
"Hands up!" I said breathlessly. "I have you covered, Dr. Fu-Manchu!"
