The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu (18 page)

Smith walked ahead of me upstairs; he had snapped up the light
in the hallway, and now he turned and cried back loudly:

"I fear we should never get servants to stay here."

Again I detected the appeal to a hidden Audience; and there was
something very uncanny in the idea. The house now was deathly
still; the ringing had entirely subsided. In the upper corridor my
companion, who seemed to be well acquainted with the position of
the switches, again turned up all the lights, and in pursuit of the
strange comedy which he saw fit to enact, addressed me continuously
in the loud and unnatural voice which he had adopted as part of his
disguise.

We looked into a number of rooms all well and comfortably
furnished, but although my imagination may have been responsible
for the idea, they all seemed to possess a chilly and repellent
atmosphere. I felt that to essay sleep in any one of them would be
the merest farce, that the place to all intents and purposes was
uninhabitable, that something incalculably evil presided over the
house.

And through it all, so obtuse was I, that no glimmer of the
truth entered my mind. Outside again in the long, brightly lighted
corridor, we stood for a moment as if a mutual anticipation of some
new event pending had come to us. It was curious that sudden
pulling up and silent questioning of one another; because, although
we acted thus, no sound had reached us. A few seconds later our
anticipation was realized. From the direction of the stairs it
came—a low wailing in a woman's voice; and the sweetness of the
tones added to the terror of the sound. I clutched at Smith's arm
convulsively whilst that uncanny cry rose and fell—rose and
fell—and died away.

Neither of us moved immediately. My mind was working with
feverish rapidity and seeking to run down a memory which the sound
had stirred into faint quickness. My heart was still leaping wildly
when the wailing began again, rising and falling in regular
cadence. At that instant I identified it.

During the time Smith and I had spent together in Egypt, two
years before, searching for Karamaneh, I had found myself on one
occasion in the neighborhood of a native cemetery near to
Bedrasheen. Now, the scene which I had witnessed there rose up
again vividly before me, and I seemed to see a little group of
black-robed women clustered together about a native grave; for the
wailing which now was dying away again in the Gables was the same,
or almost the same, as the wailing of those Egyptian mourners.

The house was very silent again, now. My forehead was damp with
perspiration, and I became more and more convinced that the uncanny
ordeal must prove too much for my nerves. Hitherto, I had accorded
little credence to tales of the supernatural, but face to face with
such manifestations as these, I realized that I would have faced
rather a group of armed dacoits, nay! Dr. Fu-Manchu himself, than
have remained another hour in that ill-omened house.

My companion must have read as much in my face. But he kept up
the strange, and to me, purposeless comedy, when presently he
spoke.

"I feel it to be incumbent upon me to suggest," he said, "that
we spend the night at a hotel after all."

He walked rapidly downstairs and into the library and began to
strap up the grip.

"After all," he said, "there may be a natural explanation of
what we've heard; for it is noteworthy that we have actually seen
nothing. It might even be possible to get used to the ringing and
the wailing after a time. Frankly, I am loath to go back on my
bargain!"

Whilst I stared at him in amazement, he stood there
indeterminate as it seemed, Then:

"Come, Pearce!" he cried loudly, "I can see that you do not
share my views; but for my own part I shall return to-morrow and
devote further attention to the phenomena."

Extinguishing the light, he walked out into the hallway,
carrying the grip in his hand. I was not far behind him. We walked
toward the door together, and:

"Turn the light out, Pearce," directed Smith; "the switch is at
your elbow. We can see our way to the door well enough, now."

In order to carry out these instructions, it became necessary
for me to remain a few paces in the rear of my companion, and I
think I have never experienced such a pang of nameless terror as
pierced me at the moment of extinguishing the light; for Smith had
not yet opened the door, and the utter darkness of the Gables was
horrible beyond expression. Surely darkness is the most potent
weapon of the Unknown. I know that at the moment my hand left the
switch, I made for the door as though the hosts of hell pursued me.
I collided violently with Smith. He was evidently facing toward me
in the darkness, for at the moment of our collision, he grasped my
shoulder as in a vise.

"My God, Petrie! look behind you!" he whispered.

I was enabled to judge of the extent and reality of his fear by
the fact that the strange subterfuge of addressing me always as
Pearce was forgotten. I turned, in a flash… .

Never can I forget what I saw. Many strange and terrible
memories are mine, memories stranger and more terrible than those
of the average man; but this thing which now moved slowly down upon
us through the impenetrable gloom of that haunted place, was (if
the term be understood) almost absurdly horrible. It was a medieval
legend come to life in modern London; it was as though some
horrible chimera of the black and ignorant past was become create
and potent in the present.

A luminous hand—a hand in the veins of which fire seemed to run
so that the texture of the skin and the shape of the bones within
were perceptible—in short a hand of glowing, fiery flesh clutching
a short knife or dagger which also glowed with the same hellish,
internal luminance, was advancing upon us where we stood—was not
three paces removed!

What I did or how I came to do it, I can never recall. In all my
years I have experienced nothing to equal the stark panic which
seized upon me then. I know that I uttered a loud and frenzied cry;
I know that I tore myself like a madman from Smith's restraining
grip…

"Don't touch it! Keep away, for your life!" I heard…

But, dimly I recollect that, finding the thing approaching yet
nearer, I lashed out with my fists—madly, blindly—and struck
something palpable…

What was the result, I cannot say. At that point my
recollections merge into confusion. Something or some one (Smith,
as I afterwards discovered) was hauling me by main force through
the darkness; I fell a considerable distance onto gravel which
lacerated my hands and gashed my knees. Then, with the cool night
air fanning my brow, I was running, running—my breath coming in
hysterical sobs. Beside me fled another figure… . And my definite
recollections commence again at that point. For this companion of
my flight from the Gables threw himself roughly against me to alter
my course.

"Not that way! not that way!" came pantingly.

"Not on to the Heath… we must keep to the roads… "

It was Nayland Smith. That healing realization came to me,
bringing such a gladness as no words of mine can express nor
convey. Still we ran on.

"There's a policeman's lantern," panted my companion. "They'll
attempt nothing, now!"

I gulped down the stiff brandy-and-soda, then glanced across to
where Nayland Smith lay extended in the long, cane chair.

"Perhaps you will explain," I said, "for what purpose you
submitted me to that ordeal. If you proposed to correct my
skepticism concerning supernatural manifestations, you have
succeeded."

"Yes," said my companion, musingly, "they are devilishly clever;
but we knew that already."

I stared at him, fatuously.

"Have you ever known me to waste my time when there was
important work to do?" he continued. "Do you seriously believe that
my ghost-hunting was undertaken for amusement? Really, Petrie,
although you are very fond of assuring me that I need a holiday, I
think the shoe is on the other foot!"

From the pocket of his dressing-gown, he took out a piece of
silk fringe which had apparently been torn from a scarf, and
rolling it into a ball, tossed it across to me.

"Smell!" he snapped.

I did as he directed—and gave a great start. The silk exhaled a
faint perfume, but its effect upon me was as though some one had
cried aloud:—

"Karamaneh!"

Beyond doubt the silken fragment had belonged to the beautiful
servant of Dr. Fu-Manchu, to the dark-eyed, seductive Karamaneh.
Nayland Smith was watching me keenly.

"You recognize it—yes?"

I placed the piece of silk upon the table, slightly shrugging my
shoulders.

"It was sufficient evidence in itself," continued my friend,
"but I thought it better to seek confirmation, and the obvious way
was to pose as a new lessee of the Gables… "

"But, Smith," I began…

"Let me explain, Petrie. The history of the Gables seemed to be
susceptible of only one explanation; in short it was fairly evident
to me that the object of the manifestations was to insure the place
being kept empty. This idea suggested another, and with them both
in mind, I set out to make my inquiries, first taking the
precaution to disguise my identity, to which end Weymouth gave me
the freedom of Scotland Yard's fancy wardrobe. I did not take the
agent into my confidence, but posed as a stranger who had heard
that the house was to let furnished and thought it might suit his
purpose. My inquiries were directed to a particular end, but I
failed to achieve it at the time. I had theories, as I have said,
and when, having paid the deposit and secured possession of the
keys, I was enabled to visit the place alone, I was fortunate
enough to obtain evidence to show that my imagination had not
misled me.

"You were very curious the other morning, I recall, respecting
my object in borrowing a large brace and bit. My object, Petrie,
was to bore a series of holes in the wainscoating of various rooms
at the Gables—in inconspicuous positions, of course… "

"But, my dear Smith!" I cried, "you are merely adding to my
mystification."

He stood up and began to pace the room in his restless
fashion.

"I had cross-examined Weymouth closely regarding the phenomenon
of the bell-ringing, and an exhaustive search of the premises led
to the discovery that the house was in such excellent condition
that, from ground-floor to attic, there was not a solitary crevice
large enough to admit of the passage of a mouse."

I suppose I must have been staring very foolishly indeed, for
Nayland Smith burst into one of his sudden laughs.

"A mouse, I said, Petrie!" he cried. "With the brace-and-bit I
rectified that matter. I made the holes I have mentioned, and
before each set a trap baited with a piece of succulent, toasted
cheese. Just open that grip!"

The light at last was dawning upon my mental darkness, and I
pounced upon the grip, which stood upon a chair near the window,
and opened it. A sickly smell of cooked cheese assailed my
nostrils.

"Mind your fingers!" cried Smith; "some of them are still set,
possibly."

Out from the grip I began to take mouse-traps! Two or three of
them were still set but in the case of the greater number the
catches had slipped. Nine I took out and placed upon the table, and
all were empty. In the tenth there crouched, panting, its soft
furry body dank with perspiration, a little white mouse!

"Only one capture!" cried my companion, "showing how well-fed
the creatures were. Examine his tail!"

But already I had perceived that to which Smith would draw my
attention, and the mystery of the "astral bells" was a mystery no
longer. Bound to the little creature's tail, close to the root,
with fine soft wire such as is used for making up bouquets, were
three tiny silver bells. I looked across at my companion in
speechless surprise.

"Almost childish, is it not?" he said; "yet by means of this
simple device the Gables has been emptied of occupant after
occupant. There was small chance of the trick being detected, for,
as I have said, there was absolutely no aperture from roof to
basement by means of which one of them could have escaped into the
building."

"Then… "

"They were admitted into the wall cavities and the rafters, from
some cellar underneath, Petrie, to which, after a brief scamper
under the floors and over the ceilings, they instinctively returned
for the food they were accustomed to receive, and for which, even
had it been possible (which it was not) they had no occasion to
forage."

I, too, stood up; for excitement was growing within me. I took
up the piece of silk from the table.

"Where did you find this?" I asked, my eyes upon Smith's keen
face.

"In a sort of wine cellar, Petrie," he replied, "under the
stair. There is no cellar proper to the Gables—at least no such
cellar appears in the plans."

"But… "

"But there is one beyond doubt—yes! It must be part of some
older building which occupied the site before the Gables was built.
One can only surmise that it exists, although such a surmise is a
fairly safe one, and the entrance to the subterranean portion of
the building is situated beyond doubt in the wine cellar. Of this
we have at least two evidences:—the finding of the fragment of silk
there, and the fact that in one case at least—as I learned—the
light was extinguished in the library unaccountably. This could
only have been done in one way: by manipulating the main switch,
which is also in the wine cellar."

"But Smith!" I cried, "do you mean that Fu-Manchu… "

Nayland Smith turned in his promenade of the floor, and stared
into my eyes.

"I mean that Dr. Fu-Manchu has had a hiding-place under the
Gables for an indefinite period!" he replied. "I always suspected
that a man of his genius would have a second retreat prepared for
him, anticipating the event of the first being discovered. Oh! I
don't doubt it! The place probably is extensive, and I am almost
certain—though the point has to be confirmed—that there is another
entrance from the studio further along the road. We know, now, why
our recent searchings in the East End have proved futile; why the
house in Museum Street was deserted; he has been lying low in this
burrow at Hampstead!"