Sax Rohmer - THE DEVIL DOCTOR

black straw hat and a thick veil; but it seemed to me that the

dexterous hands at work untying the bundle were slim and white, and I

perceived a pair of hideous cotton gloves lying on the turf beside

her. As she threw open the wrappings and lifted out something that

looked like a small shrimping-net, I stepped around the bush, crossed

silently the intervening patch of grass and stood beside her.

A faint breath of perfume reached me--of a perfume which, like the

secret incense of Ancient Egypt, seemed to assail my soul. The glamour

of the Orient was in that subtle essence, and I only knew one woman

who used it. I bent over the kneeling figure.

"Good morning," I said; "can I assist you in any way?"

She came to her feet like a startled deer, and flung away from me with

the lithe movement of some Eastern dancing-girl.

Now came the sun, and its heralding rays struck sparks from the jewels

upon the white fingers of this woman who wore the garments of a

mendicant. My heart gave a great leap. It was with difficulty that I

controlled my voice.

"There is no cause for alarm," I added.

She stood watching me; even through the coarse veil I could see how

her eyes glittered. I stooped and picked up the net.

"Oh!" The whispered word was scarcely audible; but it was enough. I

doubted no longer.

"This is a net for bird-snaring," I said. "What strange bird are you

seeking, _Kâramanèh_?"

With a passionate gesture Kâramanèh snatched off the veil, and with it

the ugly black hat. The cloud of wonderful intractable hair came

rumpling about her face, and her glorious eyes blazed out upon me. How

beautiful they were, with the dark beauty of an Egyptian night; how

often had they looked into mine in dreams!

To labour against a ceaseless yearning for a woman whom one knows, upon

evidence that none but a fool might reject, to be worthless--evil; is

there any torture to which the soul of man is subject, more pitiless?

Yet this was my lot, for what past sins assigned to me I was unable to

conjecture; and this was the woman, this lovely slave of a monster, this

creature of Dr. Fu-Manchu.

"I suppose you will declare that you do not know me!" I said harshly.

Her lips trembled, but she made no reply.

"It is very convenient to forget, sometimes," I ran on bitterly, then

checked myself, for I knew that my words were prompted by a feckless

desire to hear her defence, by a fool's hope that it might be an

acceptable one. I looked again at the net contrivance in my hand; it

had a strong spring fitted to it and a line attached. Quite obviously

it was intended for snaring. "What were you about to do?" I demanded

sharply; but in my heart, poor fool that I was, I found admiration for

the exquisite arch of Kâramanèh's lips, and reproach because they were

so tremulous.

She spoke then.

"Dr. Petrie--"

"Well?"

"You seem to be--angry with me, not so much because--of what I do, as

because I do not remember you. Yet--"

"Kindly do not revert to the matter," I interrupted. "You have chosen,

very conveniently, to forget that once we were friends. Please

yourself; but answer my question."

She clasped her hands with a sort of wild abandon.

"Why do you treat me so?" she cried. She had the most fascinating

accent imaginable. "Throw me into prison, kill me if you like for what

I have done!" She stamped her foot. "For what I have done! But do not

torture me, try to drive me mad with your reproaches--that I forget

you! I tell you--again I tell you--that until you came one night, last

week, to rescue some one from"--(there was the old trick of hesitating

before the name of Fu-Manchu)--"from _him_, I had never, never seen

you!"

The dark eyes looked into mine, afire with a positive hunger for

belief--or so I was sorely tempted to suppose. But the facts were

against her.

"Such a declaration is worthless," I said, as coldly as I could. "You

are a traitress; you betray those who are mad enough to trust you--"

"I am no traitress!" she blazed at me. Her eyes were magnificent.

"This is mere nonsense. You think that it will pay you better to serve

Fu-Manchu than to remain true to your friends. Your 'slavery'--for I

take it you are posing as a slave again--is evidently not very harsh.

You serve Fu-Manchu, lure men to their destruction, and in return he

loads you with jewels, lavishes gifts--"

"Ah! so!"

She sprang forward, raising flaming eyes to mine; her lips were

slightly parted. With that wild abandon which betrayed the desert

blood in her veins, she wrenched open the neck of her bodice and

slipped a soft shoulder free of the garment. She twisted around, so

that the white skin was but inches removed from me.

"These are some of the gifts that he lavishes upon me!"

I clenched my teeth. Insane thoughts flooded my mind. For that creamy

skin was wealed with the marks of the lash!

She turned, quickly rearranging her dress, and watching me the while.

I could not trust myself to speak for a moment, then--

"If I am a stranger to you, as you claim, why do you give me your

confidence?" I asked.

"I have known you long enough to trust you!" she said simply, and

turned her head aside.

"Then why do you serve this inhuman monster?"

She snapped her fingers oddly, and looked up at me from under her

lashes. "Why do you question me if you think that everything I say is

a lie?"

It was a lesson in logic--from a woman! I changed the subject.

"Tell me what you came here to do," I demanded.

She pointed to the net in my hands.

"To catch birds; you have said so yourself."

"What bird?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

And now a memory was born within my brain: it was that of the cry of

the nighthawk which had harbingered the death of Forsyth! The net was

a large and strong one; could it be that some horrible fowl of the

air--some creature unknown to Western naturalists--had been released

upon the common last night? I thought of the marks upon Forsyth's face

and throat; I thought of the profound knowledge of obscure and

dreadful things possessed by the Chinaman.

The wrapping in which the net had been lay at my feet. I stooped and

took out from it a wicker basket. Kâramanèh stood watching me and

biting her lip, but she made no move to check me. I opened the basket.

It contained a large phial, the contents of which possessed a pungent

and peculiar smell.

I was utterly mystified.

"You will have to accompany me to my house," I said sternly.

Kâramanèh upturned her great eyes to mine. They were wide with fear.

She was on the point of speaking when I extended my hand to grasp her.

At that, the look of fear was gone and one of rebellion held its

place. Ere I had time to realize her purpose, she flung back from me

with that wild grace which I had met with in no other woman,

turned--and ran!

Fatuously, net and basket in hand, I stood looking after her. The idea

of pursuit came to me certainly; but I doubted if I could outrun her.

For Kâramanèh ran, not like a girl used to town or even country life,

but with the lightness and swiftness of a gazelle; ran like the

daughter of the desert that she was.

Some two hundred yards she went, stopped, and looked back. It would

seem that the sheer joy of physical effort had aroused the devil in

her, the devil that must lie latent in every woman with eyes like the

eyes of Kâramanèh.