The Quest of the Sacred Slipper

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The Quest of the Sacred Slipper Page 5

by Sax Rohmer


  CHAPTER V

  THE OCCUPANT OF THE BOX

  Dimly to my ears came the ceaseless murmur of London. The night nowwas far advanced, and not a sound disturbed the silence of the courtbelow my windows.

  Professor Deeping's "Assyrian Mythology" lay open before me, besideit my notebook. A coal dropped from the fire, and I half started upout of my chair. My nerves were all awry, and I had more than myhorrible memories of the murdered man to thank for it. Let meexplain what I mean.

  When, after assisting, or endeavouring to assist, Bristol at hiselaborate inquiries, I had at last returned to my chambers, I hadbecome the victim of a singular delusion--though one common enoughin the case of persons whose nerves are overwrought. I had thoughtmyself followed.

  During the latter part of my journey I found myself constantlylooking from the little window at the rear of the cab. I had animpression that some vehicle was tracking us. Then, when Idischarged the man and walked up the narrow passage to the court,it was fear of a skulking form that dodged from shadow to shadowwhich obsessed me.

  Finally, as I entered the hall and mounted the darkened stair, fromthe first landing I glanced down into the black well beneath.Blazing yellow eyes, I thought, looked up at me!

  I will confess that I leapt up the remaining flight of stairs to mydoor, and, safely within, found myself trembling as if with a palsy.

  When I sat down to write (for sleep was an impossible proposition)I placed my revolver upon the table beside me. I cannot say why.It afforded me some sense of protection, I suppose. My conclusions,thus far, amounted to the following--

  The apparition of the phantom scimitar was due to the presence ofsomeone who, by means of the moonlight, or of artificial light,cast a reflection of such a weapon as that found in the oblong chestupon the wall of a darkened apartment--as, Deeping's stateroom onthe Mandalay, his study, etc.

  A group of highly efficient assassins, evidently Moslem fanatics,who might or might not be of the ancient order of the Hashishin,had pursued the stolen slipper to England. They had severed anyhand, other than that of a Believer, which had touched the casecontaining it. (The Coptic porter was a Christian.)

  Uncertain, possibly, of Deeping's faith, or fearful of endangeringthe success of their efforts by an outrage upon him en route, theyhad refrained from this until his arrival at his house. He hadbeen warned of his impending end by Ahmad Ahmadeen.

  Who was Ahmadeen? And who was his beautiful associate? I foundmyself unable, at present, to answer either of those questions. Inorder to gain access to Professor Deeping, who so carefully secludedhimself, a box had been sent to him by ordinary carrier. (As I satat my table, Scotland Yard was busy endeavouring to trace thesender.) Respecting this box we had made an extraordinary discovery.

  It was of the kind used by Eastern conjurors for what is generallyknown as "the Box Trick." That is to say, it could only be opened(short of smashing it) from the inside! You will remember what wefound within it? Consider this with the new fact, above, and towhat conclusion do you come?

  Something (it is not possible to speak of someone in connection withso small a box) had been concealed inside, and had killed ProfessorDeeping whilst he was actually engaged in endeavouring to force itopen. This inconceivable creature had then searched the study forthe slipper--or for the key of the safe. Interrupted and trappedby the arrival of the police, the creature had returned to the box,re-closed it, and had actually been there when the study wassearched!

  For a creature so small as the murderous thing in the box to slipout during the confusion, and at some time prior to Bristol'sarrival, was no difficult matter. The inspector and I were certainthat these were the facts.

  But what was this creature?

  I turned to the chapter in "Assyrian Mythology"--"The Traditionof the Hashishin."

  The legends which the late Professor Deeping had collected relativeto this sect of religious murderers were truly extraordinary. Ofthe cult's extinction at the time of writing he was clearly certain,but he referred to the popular belief, or Moslem legend, that, sinceHassan of Khorassan, there had always been a Sheikh-al-jebal, andthat a dreadful being known as Hassan of Aleppo was the presentholder of the title.

  He referred to the fact that De Sacy has shown the word Assassinto be derived from Hashishin, and quoted El-Idrisi to the sameend. The Hashishin performed their murderous feats under theinfluence of hashish, or Indian hemp; and during the state ofecstasy so induced, according to Deeping, they acquired powersalmost superhuman. I read how they could scale sheer precipices,pass fearlessly along narrow ledges which would scarce affordfoothold for a rat, cast themselves from great heights unscathed,and track one marked for death in such a manner as to remain unseennot only by the victim but by others about him. At this point ofmy studies I started, in a sudden nervous panic, and laid my handupon my revolver.

  I thought of the eyes which had seemed to look up from the blackwell of the staircase--I thought of the horrible end of this manwhose book lay upon the table ... and I thought I heard a faintsound outside my study door!

  The key of Deeping's safe, and his letter to me, lay close by myhand. I slipped them into a drawer and locked it. With everynerve, it seemed, strung up almost to snapping point, I mechanicallypursued my reading.

  "At the time of the Crusades," wrote Deeping, "there was a storycurrent of this awful Order which I propose to recount. It is oneof the most persistent dealing with the Hashishin, and is relatedto-day of the apparently mythical Hassan of Aleppo. I am disposedto believe that at one time it had a solid foundation, for asimilar practice was common in Ancient Egypt and is mentioned byGeorg Ebers."

  My door began very slowly to open!

  Merciful God! What was coming into the room!

  So very slowly, so gently, nay, all but imperceptibly, did it move,that had my nerves been less keenly attuned I doubt not I shouldhave remained unaware of the happening. Frozen with horror, I satand watched. Yet my mental condition was a singular one.

  My direct gaze never quitted the door, but in some strange fashionI saw the words of the next paragraph upon the page before me!

  "As making peculiarly efficient assassins, when under the influenceof the drug, and as being capable of concealing themselves wherea normal man could not fail to be detected--"

  (At this moment I remembered that my bathroom window was open, andthat the waste-pipe passed down the exterior wall.)

  "--the Sheikh-al-jebal took young boys of a certain desert tribe,and for eight hours of every day, until their puberty, confined themin a wooden frame--"

  What looked like a reed was slowly inserted through the openingbetween door and doorpost! It was brought gradually around... until it pointed directly toward me!

  I seemed to put forth a mighty mental effort, shaking off the icyhand of fear which held me inactive in my chair. A saving instinctwarned me--and I ducked my head.

  Something whirred past me and struck the wall behind.

  Revolver in hand, I leapt across the room, dashed the door open,and fired blindly--again--and again--and again--down thepassage.

  And in the brief gleams I saw it!

  I cannot call it man, but I saw the thing which, I doubt not, hadkilled poor Deeping with the crescent-knife and had propelled apoison-dart at me.

  It was a tiny dwarf! Neither within nor without a freak exhibitionhad I seen so small a human being! A kind of supernatural dreadgripped me by the throat at sight of it. As it turned with animalactivity and bounded into my bathroom, I caught a three-quarterview of the creature's swollen, incredible head--which was nearlyas large as that of a normal man!

  Never while my mind serves me can I forget that yellow, grinningface and those canine fangs--the tigerish, blazing eyes--set inthe great, misshapen head upon the tiny, agile body.

  Wildly, I fired again. I hurled myself forward and dashed intothe room.

  Like nothing so much as a cat, the gleaming body (the dwarf wasbut scantily clothed) str
eaked through the open window!

  Certain death, I thought, must be his lot upon the stones of thecourt far below. I ran and looked down, shaking in every limb,my mind filled with a loathing terror unlike anything I had everknown.

  Brilliant moonlight flooded the pavement beneath; for twenty yardsto left and right every stone was visible.

  The court was empty!

  Human, homely London moved and wrought intimately about me; butthere, at sight of the empty court below, a great loneliness sweptdown like a mantle--a clammy mantle of the fabric of dread. Istood remote from my fellows, in an evil world peopled with thecreatures of Hassan of Aleppo.

  Moved by some instinct, as that of a frightened child, I droppedto my knees and buried my face in trembling hands.

 

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