Sax Rohmer - THE DEVIL DOCTOR

In the ever-brightening sunlight I could see the lithe figure swaying;

no rags imaginable could mask its beauty. I could see the red lips and

gleaming teeth. Then--and it was music good to hear, despite its

taunt--she laughed defiantly, turned, and ran again!

I resigned myself to defeat; I blush to add, gladly! Some evidences of

a world awakening were perceptible about me now. Feathered choirs

hailed the new day joyously. Carrying the mysterious contrivance which

I had captured from the enemy, I set out in the direction of my house,

my mind very busy with conjectures respecting the link between this

bird-snare and the cry like that of a nighthawk which we had heard at

the moment of Forsyth's death.

The path that I had chosen led me around the border of the Mound

Pond--a small pool having an islet in the centre. Lying at the margin

of the pond I was amazed to see the plate and jug which Nayland Smith

had borrowed recently.

Dropping my burden, I walked down to the edge of the water. I was

filled with a sudden apprehension. Then, as I bent to pick up the now

empty jug, came a hail:

"All right, Petrie! Shall join you in a moment!"

I started up, looked to right and left; but, although the voice had

been that of Nayland Smith, no sign could I discern of his presence!

"Smith!" I cried. "Smith!"

"Coming!"

Seriously doubting my senses, I looked in the direction from which the

voice had seemed to proceed--and there was Nayland Smith.

He stood on the islet in the centre of the pond, and, as I perceived

him, he walked down into the shallow water and waded across to me!

"Good heavens!" I began.

One of his rare laughs interrupted me.

"You must think me mad this morning, Petrie!" he said. "But I have

made several discoveries. Do you know what that islet in the pond

really is?"

"Merely an islet, I suppose."

"Nothing of the kind; it is a burial mound, Petrie! It marks the site

of one of the Plague Pits where victims were buried during the Great

Plague of London. You will observe that although you have seen it

every morning for some years, it remains for a British Commissioner

lately resident in Burma to acquaint you with its history!

Hullo!"--the laughter was gone from his eyes, and they were steely

hard again--"what the blazes have we here?"

He picked up the net. "What! A bird-trap!"

"Exactly!" I said.

Smith turned his searching gaze upon me. "Where did you find it,

Petrie?"

"I did not exactly find it," I replied; and I related to him the

circumstances of my meeting with Kâramanèh.

He directed that cold stare upon me throughout the narrative, and

when, with some embarrassment, I had told him of the girl's escape--

"Petrie," he said succinctly, "you are an imbecile!"

I flushed with anger, for not even from Nayland Smith, whom I esteemed

above all other men, could I accept such words uttered as he had

uttered them. We glared at one another.

"Kâramanèh," he continued coldly, "is a beautiful toy, I grant you;

but so is a cobra. Neither is suitable for playful purposes."

"Smith!" I cried hotly, "drop that! Adopt another tone or I cannot

listen to you!"

"You _must_ listen," he said, squaring his lean jaw truculently. "You

are playing, not only with a pretty girl who is the favourite of a

Chinese Nero, but with _my life_! And I object, Petrie, on purely

personal grounds!"

I felt my anger oozing from me; for this was strictly just. I had

nothing to say and Smith continued:

"You _know_ that she is utterly false, yet a glance or two from those

dark eyes of hers can make a fool of you! A woman made a fool of me

once, but I learned my lesson; you have failed to learn yours. If you

are determined to go to pieces on the rock that broke up Adam, do so!

But don't involve me in the wreck, Petrie, for that might mean a

yellow emperor of the world, and you know it!"

"Your words are unnecessarily brutal, Smith," I said, feeling very

crestfallen, "but there--perhaps I fully deserve them all."

"You _do_!" he assured me, but he relaxed immediately. "A murderous

attempt is made upon my life, resulting in the death of a perfectly

innocent man in no way concerned. Along you come and let an

accomplice, perhaps a participant, escape, merely because she has a

red mouth, or black lashes, or whatever it is that fascinates you so

hopelessly!"

He opened the wicker basket, sniffing at the contents.

"Ah!" he snapped, "do you recognize this odour?"

"Certainly."

"Then you have some idea respecting Kâramanèh's quarry?"

"Nothing of the kind!"

Smith shrugged his shoulders.

"Come along, Petrie," he said, linking his arm in mine.

We proceeded. Many questions there were that I wanted to put to him,

but one above all.

"Smith," I said, "what, in Heaven's name, were you doing on the mound?

Digging something up?"

"No," he replied, smiling dryly, "burying something!"

Dusk found Nayland Smith and me at the top bedroom window. We knew,

now that poor Forsyth's body had been properly examined, that he had

died from poisoning. Smith, declaring that I did not deserve his

confidence, had refused to confide in me his theory of the origin of

the peculiar marks upon the body.

"On the soft ground under the trees," he said, "I found his tracks

right up to the point where--something happened. There were no other

fresh tracks for several yards around. He was attacked as he stood

close to the trunk of one of the elms. Six or seven feet away I found

some other tracks, very much like this."

He marked a series of dots upon the blotting-pad, for this

conversation took place during the afternoon.

"Claws!" I cried. "That eerie call! like the call of a nighthawk--is

it some unknown species of--flying thing?"

"We shall see, shortly; possibly to-night," was his reply. "Since,

probably owing to the absence of any moon, a mistake was made"--his

jaw hardened at the thought of poor Forsyth--"another attempt along

the same lines will almost certainly follow--you know Fu-Manchu's

system?"

So in the darkness, expectant, we sat watching the group of nine elms.

To-night the moon was come, raising her Aladdin's lamp up to the star

world and summoning magic shadows into being. By midnight the

high-road showed deserted, the common was a place of mystery; and save

for the periodical passage of an electric car, in blazing modernity,

this was a fit enough stage for an eerie drama.

No notice of the tragedy had appeared in print; Nayland Smith was

vested with powers to silence the Press. No detectives, no special

constables, were posted. My friend was of opinion that the publicity

which had been given to the deeds of Dr. Fu-Manchu in the past,

together with the sometimes clumsy co-operation of the police, had

contributed not a little to the Chinaman's success.

"There is only one thing to fear," he jerked suddenly; "he may not be

ready for another attempt to-night."

"Why?"

"Since he has only been in England for a short time, his menagerie of

venomous things may be a limited one at present."

Earlier in the evening there had been a brief but violent

thunderstorm, with a tropical downpour of rain, and now clouds were

scudding across the blue of the sky. Through a temporary rift in the

veiling the crescent of the moon looked down upon us. It had a

greenish tint, and it set me thinking of the filmed, green eyes of