Emperor Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer Page A

had seen somewhere before, followed him.”
    “You probably saw him in Niu-fo-tu,” Tony broke in. “I was running away from him when you spoke to me.”
    “Possibly. Fu-Manchu’s car, a Buick, still hot, was in the garage. It was parked alongside a majestic Rolls belonging to Lao Tse-Mung. My old Ford stood ready in the yard. What to do next was a problem. I had to stand by until you arrived. But I had to keep out of the way of Fu-Manchu, as well. I thought up several plans to intercept you, when suddenly they were all washed out.”
    “What happened?” Tony asked excitedly.
    “My walkie-talkie came to life. Tse-Mung’s secretary reported that Jeanie and a Chinese companion, Chi Foh, were in the gate-lodge! I had arranged with Tse-Mung, if I should miss you and you appeared at the house, to direct you to the garage. But I hadn’t expected Jeanie.
    “I quickly told Sun Shao-Tung, the secretary, to send me a driver who knew the way to Chungking, to order the man to stand by the Ford in the garage. Then I headed for the gate-lodge. Mai Cha told me that Moon Flower was in the bedroom sorting out some clothes and I had Moon Flower away with her bundle of dresses in five minutes. Am I right, Jeanie?”
    “Yes,” Moon Flower agreed, and her eyes told her gratitude. “You certainly drove me remorselessly.”
    “And so here you are. God knows where you’d be if Dr. Fu-Manchu had found you. The driver was standing by, as ordered, and off you went in my Ford to Ray Jenkins, a harbor in any storm.”
    “Thanks a lot,” Ray Jenkins said. “Drinks all round, if I may say so.”
    “Your absence, McKay,” Sir Denis added, “was an unexpected headache. But you have told me how Tse-Mung handled a difficult situation. And so, for the moment, Dr. Fu-Manchu is baffled.”
    * * *
    On the flower-covered porch of the bungalow, with a prospect of snowy poppy fields below extending to the distant foothills, Tony at last found himself alone with Moon Flower. She lay beside him, in a long cane chair, smoking a cigarette and no longer evading his looks of adoration.
    “We’re a pair of terrible liars, aren’t we?” she said softly, and the sound of her musical voice speaking English made his heart glad.
    “I’m still in a daze, Moon Flower. I seem to have come out of a wonderful dream. And I still don’t know where the dream ends and real life begins. I know, of course, that you’re not a Chinese girl and you know I’m not a fisherman from Hong Kong. I never suspected that you weren’t what you pretended to be, but I often thought you had doubts about me.”
    “How right you were, Chi Foh. And to me you’ll always be Chi Foh. But it was a long time before doubts came. That part is all over now, and I think I’m sorry.”
    Tony reached across urgently and grasped her arm. “You don’t regret an hour of it, Moon Flower?”
    “Not one minute,” she whispered.
    “You know I learned to adore you as Yueh Hua, don’t you? I had planned to risk everything and to marry my little river girl. After all I was just doing a job I had volunteered to do. But your motive was a sad one—your father.”
    “Let me tell you about it in my own way, Chi Foh. It is sad, yes; but now, there is hope.” Jeanie stubbed out her cigarette. “You see, Lao Tse-Mung is my grand uncle. My father, Dr. Cameron-Gordon, married Lao Tse-Mung’s niece. So, you see, I am really partly Chinese.”
    “No more than I am,” Tony broke in. “My mother’s mother was Chinese, too. That’s why I can pass as Chinese, myself.”
    Jeanie continued, “My father, of course, had traveled all over the world and become well known for his work. Then, he came to China to study diseases here. He met my mother. She was a very beautiful woman, Chi Foh. He married her. For her sake, I believe, he accepted the post as director of the medical mission at Chien Wei. The mission used to stand by the Pool of Lily Dreams. Do you remember the Pool of Lily