by Sax Rohmer
“I gave an order.”
The mist was dispersing more and more. Now, half in the shadow of an archway behind the table, Tony could see a tall figure. The executioner was electrified. In a matter of seconds Tony found himself free and saw the executioner bowing humbly to the man who stood motionless in the archway.
Another crisp command, not spoken in Chinese, resulted in the Nubian’s stepping back. Both officers sprang to their feet, spun around and stood at the salute.
“Colonel Soong,” the imperious tones carried clearly all over the courtyard, “it is contrary to my wishes that these primitive methods of questioning be employed. China will flower again as a land of beauty and culture. If harsh means must be used to extract the truth, at least let them be refined. Brutality without purpose is neither successful nor artistic. Remain in your quarters until I send for you.”
Colonel Soong retired, followed by his lieutenant.
“I will interview the prisoner.”
CHAPTER THREE
Tony, dazed, bewildered, and with the numb calm of utter desperation, found himself in an elaborately furnished room, most likely the prison governor’s study. He was facing a long desk, overly ornamented in the Burmese manner, behind which was a commodious chair. He was tinglingly conscious of the giant Nubian at his elbow.
No one else was there until the man who had ordered his release entered.
He came in from the other end of the room and walked to the desk. His movements had a catlike quality; his step was feline, silent. Tony could not mistake the tall, lean figure which he had glimpsed in the courtyard. He recognized the sort of cavalry cloak in which the man with the imperious voice had been wrapped and which he now discarded and dropped on the rug beside the chair.
Tony saw that he wore a uniform resembling those worn by Prussian officers. He had glossy top boots. As he took his seat, resting his elbows on the desk and pressing his long, yellow fingertips together, Tony experienced a fluttering in the stomach.
He was looking at one of the most fascinating faces he had ever seen. The high forehead, the chiseled, aggressive nose, the thin lips, were those of an aristocrat, a thinker and a devil. But the long, half-closed eyes of an astonishingly green color completed the impression of force which radiated from this man’s personality, as he sat there, perfectly still.
Suddenly he spoke.
“Well, my friend, I think the time has come for you to lay your cards on the table. Don’t you agree with me?”
The last shadow of doubt was swept from Tony’s mind. He recalled fragments of Nayland Smith’s vivid word picture of the person he was seeking. “A brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan. Eyes of the true cat-green. He speaks every civilized language with near perfection, and knows countless dialects as well. He has the brains of any three men of genius.”
Tony found it impossible to sustain the stare of those hypnotic eyes. But he knew that here was Number One, the Master.
This was Dr. Fu-Manchu!
The shock of hearing the question in perfect English was so unexpected that he nearly betrayed himself by replying in the same language.
It was a crucial test. And he survived it.
“I don’t understand, Excellency,” he said in Chinese.
“Don’t be a fool. You understand well enough.”
Tony shook his head in a bewildered way. Meeting the intolerable stare of those green eyes, he was aware that, again, his life hung on a thread.
Silence. The Negro behind him made no sound. He could hear the faint spluttering of perfume sticks set before a shrine at one end, of the room. The air was oppressive. He was becoming dizzy. His appalling experience and imprisonment had stolen his stamina.
He was brought back by a brusque question in Chinese.
“Your name is Wu Chi Foh? You are accused of spying?”
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 wa
tching 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 direction.
“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 strok
e. 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.
