by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER XXVII. THE NIGHT OF THE RAID
"Dash it all, Petrie!" cried Smith, "this is most annoying!"
The bell was ringing furiously, although midnight was long past. Whomcould my late visitor be? Almost certainly this ringing portended anurgent case. In other words, I was not fated to take part in what Ianticipated would prove to be the closing scene of the Fu-Manchu drama.
"Every one is in bed," I said, ruefully; "and how can I possibly see apatient--in this costume?"
Smith and I were both arrayed in rough tweeds, and anticipating thelabors before us, had dispensed with collars and wore soft mufflers.It was hard to be called upon to face a professional interview dressedthus, and having a big tweed cap pulled down over my eyes.
Across the writing-table we confronted one another in dismayed silence,whilst, below, the bell sent up its ceaseless clangor.
"It has to be done, Smith," I said, regretfully. "Almost certainly itmeans a journey and probably an absence of some hours."
I threw my cap upon the table, turned up my coat to hide the absenceof collar, and started for the door. My last sight of Smith showed himstanding looking after me, tugging at the lobe of his ear and clickinghis teeth together with suppressed irritability. I stumbled down thedark stairs, along the hall, and opened the front door. Vaguely visiblein the light of a street lamp which stood at no great distance away,I saw a slender man of medium height confronting me. From the shadowedface two large and luminous eyes looked out into mine. My visitor,who, despite the warmth of the evening, wore a heavy greatcoat, was anOriental!
I drew back, apprehensively; then:
"Ah! Dr. Petrie!" he said in a softly musical voice which made me startagain, "to God be all praise that I have found you!"
Some emotion, which at present I could not define, was stirring withinme. Where had I seen this graceful Eastern youth before? Where had Iheard that soft voice?
"Do you wish to see me professionally?" I asked--yet even as I put thequestion, I seemed to know it unnecessary.
"So you know me no more?" said the stranger--and his teeth gleamed in aslight smile.
Heavens! I knew now what had struck that vibrant chord within me! Thevoice, though infinitely deeper, yet had an unmistakable resemblanceto the dulcet tones of Karamaneh--of Karamaneh whose eyes haunted mydreams, whose beauty had done much to embitter my years.
The Oriental youth stepped forward, with outstretched hand.
"So you know me no more?" he repeated; "but I know you, and give praiseto Allah that I have found you!"
I stepped back, pressed the electric switch, and turned, with leapingheart, to look into the face of my visitor. It was a face of the purestGreek beauty, a face that might have served as a model for Praxiteles;the skin had a golden pallor, which, with the crisp black hair andmagnetic yet velvety eyes, suggested to my fancy that this was the youngAntinious risen from the Nile, whose wraith now appeared to me out ofthe night. I stifled a cry of surprise, not unmingled with gladness.
It was Aziz--the brother of Karamaneh!
Never could the entrance of a figure upon the stage of a drama have beenmore dramatic than the coming of Aziz upon this night of all nights.I seized the outstretched hand and drew him forward, then reclosed thedoor and stood before him a moment in doubt.
A vaguely troubled look momentarily crossed the handsome face; withthe Oriental's unerring instinct, he had detected the reserve of mygreeting. Yet, when I thought of the treachery of Karamaneh, when Iremember how she, whom we had befriended, whom we had rescued from thehouse of Fu-Manchu, now had turned like the beautiful viper that she wasto strike at the hand that caressed her; when I thought how to-night wewere set upon raiding the place where the evil Chinese doctor lurked inhiding, were set upon the arrest of that malignant genius and of all hiscreatures, Karamaneh amongst them, is it strange that I hesitated? Yet,again, when I thought of my last meeting with her, and of how, twice,she had risked her life to save me...
So, avoiding the gaze of the lad, I took his arm, and in silence we twoascended the stairs and entered my study... where Nayland Smith stoodbolt upright beside the table, his steely eyes fixed upon the face ofthe new arrival.
No look of recognition crossed the bronzed features, and Aziz who hadstarted forward with outstretched hands, fell back a step and lookedpathetically from me to Nayland Smith, and from the grim commissionerback again to me. The appeal in the velvet eyes was more than I couldtolerate, unmoved.
"Smith," I said shortly, "you remember Aziz?"
Not a muscle visibly moved in Smith's face, as he snapped back:
"I remember him perfectly."
"He has come, I think, to seek our assistance."
"Yes, yes!" cried Aziz laying his hand upon my arm with a gesturepainfully reminiscent of Karamaneh--"I came only to-night to London. Oh,my gentlemen! I have searched, and searched, and searched, until Iam weary. Often I have wished to die. And then at last I come toRangoon..."
"To Rangoon!" snapped Smith, still with the gray eyes fixed almostfiercely upon the lad's face.
"To Rangoon--yes; and there I heard news at last. I hear that you haveseen her--have seen Karamaneh--that you are back in London." He was notentirely at home with his English. "I know then that she must be here,too. I ask them everywhere, and they answer 'yes.' Oh, Smith Pasha!"--hestepped forward and impulsively seized both Smith's hands--"You knowwhere she is--take me to her!"
Smith's face was a study in perplexity, now. In the past we hadbefriended the young Aziz, and it was hard to look upon him in the lightof an enemy. Yet had we not equally befriended his sister?--and she...
At last Smith glanced across at me where I stood just within thedoorway.
"What do you make of it, Petrie?" he said harshly. "Personally I takeit to mean that our plans have leaked out." He sprang suddenly back fromAziz and I saw his glance traveling rapidly over the slight figure as ifin quest of concealed arms. "I take it to be a trap!"
A moment he stood so, regarding him, and despite my well-groundeddistrust of the Oriental character, I could have sworn that theexpression of pained surprise upon the youth's face was not simulatedbut real. Even Smith, I think, began to share my view; for suddenlyhe threw himself into the white cane rest-chair, and, still fixedlyregarding Aziz:
"Perhaps I have wronged you," he said. "If I have, you shall know thereason presently. Tell your own story!"
There was a pathetic humidity in the velvet eyes of Aziz--eyes so likethose others that were ever looking into mine in dreams--as glancingfrom Smith to me he began, hands outstretched, characteristically, palmsupward and fingers curling, to tell in broken English the story of hissearch for Karamaneh...
"It was Fu-Manchu, my kind gentlemen--it was the hakim who is really nota man at all, but an efreet. He found us again less than four days afteryou had left us, Smith Pasha!... He found us in Cairo, and to Karamanehhe made the forgetting of all things--even of me--even of me..."
Nayland Smith snapped his teeth together sharply; then:
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
For my own part I understood well enough, remembering how the brilliantChinese doctor once had performed such an operation as this upon poorInspector Weymouth; how, by means of an injection of some serum prepared(as Karamaneh afterwards told us) from the venom of a swamp adder orsimilar reptile, he had induced amnesia, or complete loss of memory. Ifelt every drop of blood recede from my cheeks.
"Smith!" I began...
"Let him speak for himself," interrupted my friend sharply.
"They tried to take us both," continued Aziz still speaking in thatsoft, melodious manner, but with deep seriousness. "I escaped, I, whoam swift of foot, hoping to bring help."--He shook his head sadly--"But,except the All Powerful, who is so powerful as the Hakim Fu-Manchu? Ihid, my gentlemen, and watched and waited, one--two--three weeks. Atlast I saw her again, my sister, Karamaneh; but ah! she did not know me,did not know me, Aziz her brother! She was in an arabeeyeh, and passedme quickly alo
ng the Sharia en-Nahhasin. I ran, and ran, and ran, cryingher name, but although she looked back, she did not know me--she did notknow me! I felt that I was dying, and presently I fell--upon the stepsof the Mosque of Abu."
He dropped the expressive hands wearily to his sides and sank his chinupon his breast.
"And then?" I said, huskily--for my heart was fluttering like a captivebird.
"Alas! from that day to this I see her no more, my gentlemen. I travel,not only in Egypt, but near and far, and still I see her no more untilin Rangoon I hear that which brings me to England again"--he extendedhis palms naively--"and here I am--Smith Pasha."
Smith sprang upright again and turned to me.
"Either I am growing over-credulous," he said, "or Aziz speaks thetruth. But"--he held up his hand--"you can tell me all that at someother time, Petrie! We must take no chances. Sergeant Carter isdownstairs with the cab; you might ask him to step up. He and Aziz canremain here until our return."
