by Sax Rohmer
XXXII
BLUE BLINDS
Morning brought the silent opening of the door, and the entrance ofSaid, the Egyptian, bearing a tiny Chinese tea service upon a lacqueredtray.
But M. Max lay in a seemingly deathly stupor, and from this theimpassive Oriental had great difficulty in arousing him. Said, havingshaken some symptoms of life into the limp form of M. Max, filled thelittle cup with fragrant China tea, and, supporting the dazed man, heldthe beverage to his lips. With his eyes but slightly opened, and withall his weight resting upon the arm of the Egyptian, he gulped the hottea, and noted that it was of exquisite quality.
THEINE is an antidote to opium, and M. Max accordingly became somewhatrestored, and lay staring at the Oriental, and blinking his eyesfoolishly.
Said, leaving the tea service upon the little table, glided from theroom. Something else the Egyptian had left upon the tray in addition tothe dainty vessels of porcelain; it was a steel ring containing a dozenor more keys. Most of these keys lay fanwise and bunched together, butone lay isolated and pointing in an opposite direction. It was a Yalekey--the key of the door!
Silently as a shadow, M. Max glided into the bathroom, and silently,swiftly, returned, carrying a cake of soap. Three clear, sharpimpressions, he secured of the Yale, the soap leaving no trace of theoperation upon the metal. He dropped the precious soap tablet into hisopen bag.
In a state of semi-torpor, M. Max sprawled upon the bed for ten minutesor more, during which time, as he noted, the door remained ajar.Then there entered a figure which seemed wildly out of place in theestablishment of Ho-Pin. It was that of a butler, most accuratelydressed and most deferential in all his highly-trained movements.His dark hair was neatly brushed, and his face, which had apinched appearance, was composed in that"if-it-is-entirely-agreeable-to-you-Sir" expression, typical of hisclass.
The unhealthy, yellow skin of the new arrival, which harmonized so illwith the clear whites of his little furtive eyes, interested M. Maxextraordinarily. M. Max was blinking like a week-old kitten, and onecould have sworn that he was but hazily conscious of his surroundings;whereas in reality he was memorizing the cranial peculiarities of thenew arrival, the shape of his nose, the disposition of his ears; theexact hue of his eyes; the presence of a discolored tooth in his lowerjaw, which a fish-like, nervous trick of opening and closing the mouthperiodically revealed.
"Good morning, sir!" said the valet, gently rubbing his palms togetherand bending over the bed.
M. Max inhaled deeply, stared in glassy fashion, but in no way indicatedthat he had heard the words.
The valet shook him gently by the shoulder.
"Good morning, sir. Shall I prepare your bath?"
"She is a serpent!" muttered M. Max, tossing one arm weakly above hishead... "all yellow.... But roses are growing in the mud ... of theriver!"
"If you will take your bath, sir," insisted the man in black, "I shallbe ready to shave you when you return."
"Bath... shave me!"
M. Max began to rub his eyes and to stare uncomprehendingly at thespeaker.
"Yes, sir; good morning, sir,"--there was another bow and more rubbingof palms.
"Ah!--of course! Morbleu! This is Paris...."
"No, sir, excuse me, sir, London. Bath hot or cold, sir?"
"Cold," replied M. Max, struggling upright with apparent difficulty;"yes,--cold."
"Very good, sir. Have you brought your own razor, sir?"
"Yes, yes," muttered Max--"in the bag--in that bag."
"I will fill the bath, sir."
The bath being duly filled, M. Max, throwing about his shoulders amagnificent silk kimono which he found upon the armchair, steered azigzag course to the bathroom. His tooth-brush had been put in place bythe attentive valet; there was an abundance of clean towels, soaps,bath salts, with other necessities and luxuries of the toilet. M. Max,following his bath, saw fit to evidence a return to mental clarity; andwhilst he was being shaved he sought to enter into conversation with thevalet. But the latter was singularly reticent, and again M. Max changedhis tactics. He perceived here a golden opportunity which he must notallow to slip through his fingers.
"Would you like to earn a hundred pounds?" he demanded abruptly, gazinginto the beady eyes of the man bending over him.
Soames almost dropped the razor. His state of alarm was truly pitiable;he glanced to the right, he glanced to the left, he glanced over hisshoulder, up at the ceiling and down at the floor.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, nervously; "I don't think I quite understandyou, sir?"
"It is quite simple," replied M. Max. "I asked you if you had some usefor a hundred pounds. Because if you have, I will meet you at any placeyou like to mention and bring with me cash to that amount!"
"Hush, sir!--for God's sake, hush, sir!" whispered Soames.
A dew of perspiration was glistening upon his forehead, and it wasfortunate that he had finished shaving M. Max, for his hand wastrembling furiously. He made a pretense of hurrying with towels, bayrum, and powder spray, but the beady eyes were ever glancing to rightand left and all about.
M. Max, who throughout this time had been reflecting, made a secondmove.
"Another fifty, or possibly another hundred, could be earned as easily,"he said, with assumed carelessness. "I may add that this will not beoffered again, and... that you will shortly be out of employment, withworse to follow."
Soames began to exhibit signs of collapse.
"Oh, my God!" he muttered, "what shall I do? I can't promise--I can'tpromise; but I might--I MIGHT look in at the 'Three Nuns' on Fridayevening about nine o'clock."...
He hastily scooped up M. Max's belongings, thrust them into the handbagand closed it. M. Max was now fully dressed and ready to depart. Heplaced a sovereign in the valet's ready palm.
"That's an appointment," he said softly.
Said entered and stood bowing in the doorway.
"Good morning, sir, good morning," muttered Soames, and covertly hewiped the perspiration from his brow with the corner of a towel--"goodmorning, and thank you very much."
M. Max, buttoning his light overcoat in order to conceal the fact thathe wore evening dress, entered the corridor, and followed the Egyptianinto the cave of the golden dragon. Ho-Pin, sleek and smiling, receivedhim there. Ho-Pin was smoking the inevitable cigarette in the long tube,and, opening the door, he silently led the way up the steps into thecovered courtyard, Said following with the hand bag. The limousine stoodthere, dimly visible in the darkness. Said placed the handbag upon theseat inside, and Ho-Pin assisted M. Max to enter, closing the doorupon him, but leaning through the open window to shake his hand. TheChinaman's hand was icily cold and limp.
"Au wrevoir, my dear fwriend," he said in his metallic voice. "I hope tohave the pleasure of gwreeting you again vewry shortly."
With that he pulled up the window from the outside, and the occupantof the limousine found himself in impenetrable darkness; for dark blueblinds covered all the windows. He lay back, endeavoring to determinewhat should be his next move. The car started with a perfect action, andwithout the slightest jolt or jar. By reason of the light which suddenlyshone in through the chinks of the blinds, he knew that he was outsidethe covered courtyard; then he became aware that a sharp turning hadbeen taken to the left, followed almost immediately, by one to theright.
He directed his attention to the blinds.
"Ah! nom d'un nom! they are clever--these!"
The blinds worked in little vertical grooves and had each a tiny lock.The blinds covering the glass doors on either side were attached to theadjustable windows; so that when Ho-Pin had raised the window, he hadalso closed the blind! And these windows operated automatically, anddefied all M. Max's efforts to open them!
He was effectively boxed in and unable to form the slightest impressionof his surroundings. He threw himself back upon the soft cushions witha muttered curse of vexation; but the mobile mouth was twisted into thatwryly humorous smile. Always, M. Max was a philoso
pher.
At the end of a drive of some twenty-five minutes or less, the carstopped--the door was opened, and the radiant Gianapolis extended bothhands to the occupant.
"My dear M. Gaston!" he cried, "how glad I am to see you looking sowell! Hand me your bag, I beg of you!"
M. Max placed the bag in the extended hand of Gianapolis, and leapt outupon the pavement.
"This way, my dear friend!" cried the Greek, grasping him warmly by thearm.
The Frenchman found himself being led along toward the head of the car;and, at the same moment, Said reversed the gear and backed away. M. Maxwas foiled in his hopes of learning the number of the limousine.
He glanced about him wonderingly.
"You are in Temple Gardens, M. Gaston," explained the Greek, "and here,unless I am greatly mistaken, comes a disengaged taxi-cab. You willdrive to your hotel?"
"Yes, to my hotel," replied M. Max.
"And whenever you wish to avail yourself of your privilege, and paya second visit to the establishment presided over by Mr. Ho-Pin, youremember the number?"
"I remember the number," replied M. Max.
The cab hailed by Gianapolis drew up beside the two, and M. Max enteredit.
"Good morning, M. Gaston."
"Good morning, Mr. Gianapolis."
