Emperor Fu-Manchu

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Emperor Fu-Manchu Page 3

by Sax Rohmer


  He met the hypnotic stare.

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  In that fleeting second he had discovered something. The disturbing element in Fu-Manchu’s gaze was that he seemed to be looking not at him, but through him.

  “Are you guilty?”

  “No, Excellency.”

  “For a humble fisherman, you have a pure accent. You interest me. Take him back to his cell.”

  For once, Tony was glad to throw himself wearily on the filthy mattress, glad even to find brief sanctuary in his dungeon from those dreadful eyes.

  “Leave before daylight…”

  He jumped up, stared at the barred window. He could see the stars against a gray background. Dawn was breaking.

  “Your boat still lies where you left it…”

  But had the arrival, clearly unexpected, of the Master, put the scheme out of gear? Had the guard on the gate been changed? Was the sampan still lying in the river?

  The key of the leg chain worked rather stiffly and gave him some uneasy moments. But at last a welcome click came and his leg was free. His heart pounded hard as he fitted the second key into the keyhole of the door. It turned without a hitch. He swung the heavy door open and looked out cautiously into the stone-paved passage.

  There was no one there. Only a very faint light came through a barred window at the end. He heard nothing and slipped out into the cool, open air.

  He clung close to the buildings in the deserted courtyard. A shadow of the whipping post lay like a band across the stone paving. No window showed any light. At last he got to the corridor which led to freedom. He peeped around an angle of the wall. The prison had been a fortress in feudal times and just inside the great nail-studded gate there was a cramped guardroom.

  A dim light, probably that of a lantern, shone out from the guardroom door.

  And he had to pass that door.

  He inhaled deeply, then moved ahead. He saw no one inside. The lantern stood on a table. He passed, and came to the gate.

  The bolts which seemed to be well oiled were already withdrawn from the sockets which secured the gate.

  Inch by inch, Tony swung open the mass of teak and iron. When the gap was wide enough to slip through, he stepped out, paused for a moment, breathing hard, then gently reclosed the gate.

  He set off at a good pace, but avoided running. His escape had been perfectly planned. The guard had only to shoot the bolts into place, employ his national talent for lying, and the prisoner’s disappearance would look like magic, for Tony had taken the keys and the lighter with him. Flawless teamwork. It must have cost a lot of money.

  When he came to the river, there was his old sampan, tied up to a rickety stage.

  Not pausing to examine the craft, he cast loose the mooring line and stepped onto the oarsman’s platform, aft.

  When day broke he was many miles south. He tied up in a cactus-lined backwater from which he could see no sign of a nearby road. Then he stooped under the strip of plaited roof, and went in to find where the money was hidden and what provisions he had.

  There was a Chinese girl asleep in the cabin.

  * * *

  She was curled up on a heap of matting, one arm half covering her face. Her clothes were at least as ragged and soiled as his own and her black hair was disheveled. He could see that she had long dark lashes, and there were tear tracks from her closed eyes cutting through the dirt on her cheeks.

  How had she got on board, and when?

  Anyway, here she was, and he had to decide what to do with her. An added problem, when he had far too many to cope with already. But there was nothing he could do about her now, while she was still sleeping.

  Creeping quietly out to the stern, carrying soap and shaving material, he stripped, soaped himself all over, and then dropped into the cool water. Climbing back, much refreshed, he toweled and, stifling his disgust, got into the filthy rags which were all he had. Then he lighted his galley fire—an iron bucket with holes punched in it—using dry wood gathered on the bank, and boiled a pannikin of water.

  He was struggling through his first shave in more than two weeks when he saw the girl watching him. He paused, shaving brush in hand, and stared. He had expected coal-black eyes but her eyes were dark blue. He remembered that some of the up-country peasants had blue eyes. She looked like a very dirty Chinese doll. “So you are awake at last?”

  “Yes.” She looked down and shuddered. “How long did I sleep?”

  She had a pretty, bell-like voice, but it shook nervously.

  “I don’t know.” More to reassure her than for any other reason he went on shaving. “When did you come on board?”

  “Some time last night,” she answered.

  Wiping his face, he began anxiously to forage in the locker. His own few pots and pans were there. He had jettisoned everything incriminating when he realized they were coming to arrest him. He found a considerable sum of money, mostly in small currency, and there were cigarettes and a carton of canned meat, soup, and other edibles. He also discovered some sea toast, rice, fresh fruit, soap, shaving kit, matches, a bottle of lime juice, and a bottle of Scotch. And, last of all, a .38 and a box of shells.

  Then, resoaping his chin, he went on shaving again. “You came on board at Chia-Ting?”

  “Yes. Please don’t throw me off. I don’t know what I shall do if you won’t let me stay.”

  At Chia-Ting. The ways of these people were strange and tortuous. Did they know more than he supposed? Was this little stowaway a spy? Perhaps it was a plot to learn where he was going, to identify his associates.

  He finished shaving. The girl, her hands clasped, waited with pleading eyes.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Yueh Hua. I can cook, and fish, and manage a boat. I won’t be any trouble.”

  Yueh Hua meant “Moon Flower.” This poor little waif hardly looked the part.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “A small village ten miles from Chia-Ting. It is called Su-Chien.”

  “And what were you doing in Chia-Ting?”

  “Running away from my stepfather.” She spoke eagerly. “He had sold me to Fuen Chang, a horrible old man who would have beaten me. It is his only pleasure, beating girls.”

  “You had friends in Chia-Ting, I suppose?”

  “Yes.” Yueh Hua nodded. “My sister. But she had gone. There was nothing to do but try to get to my aunt. It is a long way.”

  Tony sponged his face, washed the shaving brush, and began, very thoughtfully, to clean the razor blade. If this girl was an agent of the Master she certainly knew her piece.

  “Where does your aunt live?”

  “In Lung Chang.”

  “Where is Lung Chang?”

  “On the Lu Ho.”

  This startled him. He was far from sure of his route to the Lu Ho.

  “Do you know the way to Lung Chang?”

  “Of course!” There was a flash of white teeth in the grimy face. “I used to go there in my father’s boat. I mean, my real father.”

  “I see.” He replaced the razor in its box. “What I don’t understand is why you came onto my boat and fell asleep.”

  “I was tired and frightened. I had walked a long way. People were beginning to notice me—to follow me. I came on your boat to hide, I don’t remember falling asleep. Are you angry with me?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Some hours before this conversation took place, a less amiable conversation had been held in the office of the governor of the prison. Dr. Fu-Manchu sat behind the desk. The old governor and Colonel Soong stood before him.

  “I fear, Colonel Soong, that we have here some serious breach of discipline. There would seem to be traitors among your men.” He spoke softly, but there was menace in every syllable.

  Colonel Soong’s voice was unsteady when he replied. “I assure you, Most High, it is not so. This man’s escape was magic.”

  The narrowed green eyes were turned in the old governor’s direc
tion.

  “Who had charge of the keys?”

  “The head jailer, Highness.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “In their usual place where he put them after having relocked the prisoner in his cell after his interview with Highness.”

  “Were they ever left unprotected?”

  “Never. The head jailer and another were in the room up to the very moment that Highness ordered the prisoner to be brought here again.”

  “Unless both men are lying, duplicate keys were smuggled into the prisoner’s cell. And what of the main gate?”

  Colonel Soong broke in. “The main gate was found locked, Most High. The man on guard reports that no one passed, that the gate was never opened.”

  Dr. Fu-Manchu took a pinch of snuff from a small silver box before him. “I shall interrogate these men later. I have means of learning the truth without resorting to your barbarous methods, Colonel Soong. The discipline of your men is disgraceful. Several patients undergoing special treatment in the clinic which I recently established have wandered from the compound and into the town. Yet you have orders to patrol the area day and night. These patients are suffering from a dangerous infectious disease. How do you explain this laxity?”

  Colonel Soong’s yellow face had assumed a gray tinge. “Most High, my troops have orders not to touch them, although some have done so. They report that these people are not human. They say they are dead men who have escaped from their tombs.”

  “Fools!” Dr. Fu-Manchu’s cold voice rose on a sudden note of frenzy. “I am doomed to be served by fools.” He clenched his hands, and by an obvious effort of will conquered his anger. “This man who calls himself Wu Chi Foh must be recaptured. You lost him. Find him. Colonel Soong, move! I shall accompany you.”

  * * *

  Tony decided that his best course was to pretend to believe Yueh Hua so he asked, “Is Lung Chang far from Niu-fo-tu?”

  “About eight miles. We have to pass it. We used to come to this place sometimes, too. It is called Pool of Lily Dreams. Once it was part of the garden of a big house. But the house has gone. May I come and show you the way to Niu-fo-tu? I can row the boat when you want to rest.”

  Her eagerness was pathetic. He nodded, and smiled for the first time.

  “All right, Yueh Hua. I’ll take you to Lung Chang.”

  “Oh, thank you! You are very good.” He read deep gratitude in her blue eyes. “Please,” she said as he was about to replace his washing kit, “may I—”

  Tony handed her the soap and the comb. “The towel’s wet, but it’s the only one.”

  Yueh Hua grabbed them and jumped ashore. He saw her heading for a clump of alders where the bank sloped down to the pool.

  He was hunting for some plausible explanation of how he had come by his canned provisions, when he heard her running back. Her hair was wet. And she was trying to fasten a ragged pajama jacket, which, with baggy trousers, made up her costume.

  “Quick! We must be quick!”

  She jumped on board with the agility of a wild goat, throwing down soap and towel.

  “What’s the matter, Yueh Hua?”

  “Coming along—now! A motor boat. It must be the police—for me! They think I stole your sampan.”

  The widely opened eyes never wavered.

  “Wait,” Tony said. “Don’t stir until I come back.”

  Yueh Hua was right.

  An old fourteen-foot motor craft was coming down. Colonel Soong stood up in the stern, sweeping the banks on either side through field glasses.

  Tony raced back. When he reached the boat he pulled up and stared. Yueh Hua had cast off and stood at the oar, ready to leave.

  “Be quick! I know a hiding place. These people are new here. They may not find us.”

  He climbed aboard and sat down watching her. He might as well let her have her way, for he had no plan of his own.

  She swung the sampan about with an easy, deep sweep of the long oar. Then, using a minimum of effort, she headed straight across the pool, avoiding traps set by clumps of wild lilies, and drove straight through a forest of rushes with a sudden powerful stroke. For a moment, he thought they were stranded. Then, using the oar like a punt pole, Yueh Hua got the boat free, and they were in a smaller pool, deep and clear, roofed over by the foliage of majestic old willows.

  “That was very good, Yueh Hua.”

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “Yes. An Army officer, with field glasses.”

  “Not—a tall, thin man, wearing a long cloak?”

  Tony was startled, but hid the fact. “No. Short, wearing a uniform. Are you afraid of this tall man?”

  “Yes… Ssh! Sounds carry over the pool. They had stopped, but they are just turning in.”

  As she spoke the engine coughed into action again. Although he couldn’t see, Tony knew that the motor boat had entered the narrow opening and that Colonel Soong would be inspecting the banks of the pool. They lay down side by side, peering through the rushes.

  A sudden protective impulse made him put his arm around Yueh Hua’s shoulders. She was trembling.

  At last they heard Colonel Soong’s grating voice. “Nobody here. Back out.”

  The motor craft went coughing out astern.

  As the sound of the engine died away, Tony stood up, helping Yueh Hua to her feet. It was dark under the willows and he could hardly see her face.

  “Thank you, Yueh Hua,” he said softly. Then he ducked forward under the matting roof, turned his back, and lighted a cigarette.

  His first ideas about Yueh Hua required an overhaul. Even Chinese duplicity couldn’t account for what had happened. She was as scared of Colonel Soong as he was himself—and desperately afraid of Dr. Fu-Manchu. Her explanation that she might be suspected of stealing his boat didn’t add up, either. Agreed that she was running away—but from whom was she running? Someone far more formidable than her stepfather.

  He returned to the stern of the boat. Yueh Hua had washed and tidied up considerably. She was smiling shyly.

  “Do I look any better?”

  He thought she looked very well indeed. There were few Mongolian characteristics. Prominent cheekbones and very slightly slanting eyes, yes. But many Celts had these. Now that her face was clean, he saw that she had a fresh, healthy complexion. In fact, he decided that Yueh Hua was quite pretty in a quaint way.

  He planned to remain hidden where they were until the searchers returned and passed on the way up to Chia-Ting. Yueh Hua shook her head.

  “When they don’t find the sampan anywhere we could have gotten to in this time, they will search again on the way back. Someone may tell them of this place. It was once used as a duck decoy.”

  Tony thought of his .38 and wondered how many of the crew, beginning with Colonel Soong, he could knock off as they came into the decoy. But he dismissed the idea quickly.

  “We shall have to cross the river before they come back, and hide in a creek I know there,” she continued.

  “Is it used much?”

  “No. It is too shallow.”

  This idea was a desperate venture. Should the motor cruiser turn about sooner than anticipated, they could be trapped on the way over. He pointed out that Soong might search the creek.

  “It is upstream. They will have searched it coming down.”

  Tony grasped the long sweep and began to pole along the bank, edging the boat toward the opening through the rushes.

  “Nearer the middle,” Yueh Hua directed. “Look—where the dragonfly is.”

  He gave a powerful thrust. The bow of the sampan was driven in about three feet, then progress was checked.

  “Another push from this side, hard.”

  He swung the oar over, found a firm spot, and thrust with all his weight. The boat glided along an unseen channel, and they were out again in the main part of the pool.

  “Let me go ashore first and see if the river is clear,” Yueh Hua said.

  Tony rowed in to the spot a
gainst which he had first tied up, and she leaped ashore lightly and ran off through the cactus lining the bank. He waited, listening. And as he listened, he heard voices singing some monotonous song, and discerned the faint sound of a reed pipe.

  Yueh Hua came running back.

  “A big raft coming down! They may have been told to look out for us. We must wait until they pass.”

  He nodded. But every minute’s delay might mean capture.

  The sounds drew nearer. The song was a bawdy thing once popular on the Hong Kong Flower Boats. Tony glanced at Yueh Hua, but read only anxiety in her face. They stayed quite silent until the raft had gone by.

  Then he swung the sampan through the opening. The stream was deserted. Piloted by Yueh Hua, they crossed. Tony found the narrow creek and rowed the boat into it until Yueh Hua called, “Stop here.”

  There was a rough hut under the trees. He turned to her in sudden doubt.

  “Are there people here?”

  “I hope not. It is used sometimes by fishers, but nobody lives in it.”

  In fact, the tumble-down place proved to be deserted. It was so far decayed that not even an eel fisherman would have consented to live there. The palm roof was full of holes and the bamboo framework largely collapsed. When he had tied up the boat, he secretly charged his .38 and slipped its comforting weight into a pouch inside his ragged pants.

  “I must find my way along the bank to the end of the creek, Yueh Hua, and watch for the motor boat.”

  She touched his arm. “Please, let me come, too.”

  * * *

  They set out together in blazing sunshine. There was a sort of path through thick undergrowth, but evidently it hadn’t been used for a long time. Then came the bare banks lower down. There was a wandering gully, though, which gave good cover and led them to the river only some yards above the creek.

  They had trudged along in silence. Now both looked upstream. The raft was no longer in sight. The river appeared deserted. They sat down side by side among the rushes and wildgrass, watching a slow tide go whispering by. Tony felt that Yueh Hua was furtively studying him. He glanced at her.

  She smiled. “What is your honorable name, if you please?”

 

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