Read Online The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sax Rohmer
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective
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plans."
She glided past him to the door, avoiding his outstretched arm
with an artless art which made me writhe; for once I had been the
willing victim of all these wiles.
"But—" began Slattin.
"I will ring you up in less than half an hour," said Karamaneh
and without further ceremony, she opened the door.
I still had my eyes glued to the aperture in the blind, when
Smith began tugging at my arm.
"Down! you fool!" he hissed harshly—"if she sees us, all is
lost!"
Realizing this, and none too soon, I turned, and rather clumsily
followed my friend. I dislodged a piece of granite in my descent;
but, fortunately, Slattin had gone out into the hall and could not
well have heard it.
We were crouching around an angle of the house, when a flood of
light poured down the steps, and Karamaneh rapidly descended. I had
a glimpse of a dark-faced man who evidently had opened the door for
her, then all my thoughts were centered upon that graceful figure
receding from me in the direction of the avenue. She wore a loose
cloak, and I saw this fluttering for a moment against the white
gate posts; then she was gone.
Yet Smith did not move. Detaining me with his hand he crouched
there against a quick-set hedge; until, from a spot lower down the
hill, we heard the start of the cab which had been waiting. Twenty
seconds elapsed, and from some other distant spot a second cab
started.
"That's Weymouth!" snapped Smith. "With decent luck, we should
know Fu-Manchu's hiding-place before Slattin tells us!"
"But—"
"Oh! as it happens, he's apparently playing the game."—In the
half-light, Smith stared at me significantly—"Which makes it all
the more important," he concluded, "that we should not rely upon
his aid!"
Those grim words were prophetic.
My companion made no attempt to communicate with the detective
(or detectives) who shared our vigil; we took up a position close
under the lighted study window and waited—waited.
Once, a taxi-cab labored hideously up the steep gradient of the
avenue … It was gone. The lights at the upper windows above us
became extinguished. A policeman tramped past the gateway, casually
flashing his lamp in at the opening. One by one the illuminated
windows in other houses visible to us became dull; then lived again
as mirrors for the pallid moon. In the silence, words spoken within
the study were clearly audible; and we heard someone—presumably the
man who had opened the door—inquire if his services would be wanted
again that night.
Smith inclined his head and hung over me in a tense attitude, in
order to catch Slattin's reply.
"Yes, Burke," it came—"I want you to sit up until I return; I
shall be going out shortly."
Evidently the man withdrew at that; for a complete silence
followed which prevailed for fully half an hour. I sought
cautiously to move my cramped limbs, unlike Smith, who seeming to
have sinews of piano-wire, crouched beside me immovable,
untiringly. Then loud upon the stillness, broke the strident note
of the telephone bell.
I started, nervously, clutching at Smith's arm. It felt hard as
iron to my grip.
"Hullo!" I heard Slattin call—"who is speaking?… Yes, yes! This
is Mr. A. S… . I am to come at once?… I know where—yes I … you
will meet me there?… Good!—I shall be with you in half an hour… .
Good-by!"
Distinctly I heard the creak of the revolving office-chair as
Slattin rose; then Smith had me by the arm, and we were flying
swiftly away from the door to take up our former post around the
angle of the building. This gained:
"He's going to his death!" rapped Smith beside me; "but Carter
has a cab from the Yard waiting in the nearest rank. We shall
follow to see where he goes—for it is possible that Weymouth may
have been thrown off the scent; then, when we are sure of his
destination, we can take a hand in the game! We… "
The end of the sentence was lost to me—drowned in such a
frightful wave of sound as I despair to describe. It began with a
high,
She glided past him to the door, avoiding his outstretched arm
with an artless art which made me writhe; for once I had been the
willing victim of all these wiles.
"But—" began Slattin.
"I will ring you up in less than half an hour," said Karamaneh
and without further ceremony, she opened the door.
I still had my eyes glued to the aperture in the blind, when
Smith began tugging at my arm.
"Down! you fool!" he hissed harshly—"if she sees us, all is
lost!"
Realizing this, and none too soon, I turned, and rather clumsily
followed my friend. I dislodged a piece of granite in my descent;
but, fortunately, Slattin had gone out into the hall and could not
well have heard it.
We were crouching around an angle of the house, when a flood of
light poured down the steps, and Karamaneh rapidly descended. I had
a glimpse of a dark-faced man who evidently had opened the door for
her, then all my thoughts were centered upon that graceful figure
receding from me in the direction of the avenue. She wore a loose
cloak, and I saw this fluttering for a moment against the white
gate posts; then she was gone.
Yet Smith did not move. Detaining me with his hand he crouched
there against a quick-set hedge; until, from a spot lower down the
hill, we heard the start of the cab which had been waiting. Twenty
seconds elapsed, and from some other distant spot a second cab
started.
"That's Weymouth!" snapped Smith. "With decent luck, we should
know Fu-Manchu's hiding-place before Slattin tells us!"
"But—"
"Oh! as it happens, he's apparently playing the game."—In the
half-light, Smith stared at me significantly—"Which makes it all
the more important," he concluded, "that we should not rely upon
his aid!"
Those grim words were prophetic.
My companion made no attempt to communicate with the detective
(or detectives) who shared our vigil; we took up a position close
under the lighted study window and waited—waited.
Once, a taxi-cab labored hideously up the steep gradient of the
avenue … It was gone. The lights at the upper windows above us
became extinguished. A policeman tramped past the gateway, casually
flashing his lamp in at the opening. One by one the illuminated
windows in other houses visible to us became dull; then lived again
as mirrors for the pallid moon. In the silence, words spoken within
the study were clearly audible; and we heard someone—presumably the
man who had opened the door—inquire if his services would be wanted
again that night.
Smith inclined his head and hung over me in a tense attitude, in
order to catch Slattin's reply.
"Yes, Burke," it came—"I want you to sit up until I return; I
shall be going out shortly."
Evidently the man withdrew at that; for a complete silence
followed which prevailed for fully half an hour. I sought
cautiously to move my cramped limbs, unlike Smith, who seeming to
have sinews of piano-wire, crouched beside me immovable,
untiringly. Then loud upon the stillness, broke the strident note
of the telephone bell.
I started, nervously, clutching at Smith's arm. It felt hard as
iron to my grip.
"Hullo!" I heard Slattin call—"who is speaking?… Yes, yes! This
is Mr. A. S… . I am to come at once?… I know where—yes I … you
will meet me there?… Good!—I shall be with you in half an hour… .
Good-by!"
Distinctly I heard the creak of the revolving office-chair as
Slattin rose; then Smith had me by the arm, and we were flying
swiftly away from the door to take up our former post around the
angle of the building. This gained:
"He's going to his death!" rapped Smith beside me; "but Carter
has a cab from the Yard waiting in the nearest rank. We shall
follow to see where he goes—for it is possible that Weymouth may
have been thrown off the scent; then, when we are sure of his
destination, we can take a hand in the game! We… "
The end of the sentence was lost to me—drowned in such a
frightful wave of sound as I despair to describe. It began with a
high,
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