The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer

this screaming thing which had inspired in
me so keen a terror.
    The great, ghostly fan was closed as I did so, and I stumbled
back toward the stair with my struggling captive tucked under my
arm; I mounted into one of London's darkest slums, carrying a
beautiful white peacock!

Chapter 12 DARK EYES LOOKED INTO MINE
    My adventure had done nothing to relieve the feeling of
unreality which held me enthralled. Grasping the struggling bird
firmly by the body, and having the long white tail fluttering a
yard or so behind me, I returned to where the taxi waited.
    "Open the door!" I said to the man—who greeted me with such a
stare of amazement that I laughed outright, though my mirth was but
hollow.
    He jumped into the road and did as I directed. Making sure that
both windows were closed, I thrust the peacock into the cab and
shut the door upon it.
    "For God's sake, sir!" began the driver—
    "It has probably escaped from some collector's place on the
riverside," I explained, "but one never knows. See that it does not
escape again, and if at the end of an hour, as arranged, you do not
hear from me, take it back with you to the River Police
Station."
    "Right you are, sir," said the man, remounting his seat. "It's
the first time I ever saw a peacock in Limehouse!"
    It was the first time I had seen one, and the incident struck me
as being more than odd; it gave me an idea, and a new, faint hope.
I returned to the head of the steps, at the foot of which I had met
with this singular experience, and gazed up at the dark building
beneath which they led. Three windows were visible, but they were
broken and neglected. One, immediately above the arch, had been
pasted up with brown paper, and this was now peeling off in the
rain, a little stream of which trickled down from the detached
corner to drop, drearily, upon the stone stairs beneath.
    Where were the detectives? I could only assume that they had
directed their attention elsewhere, for had the place not been
utterly deserted, surely I had been challenged.
    In pursuit of my new idea, I again descended the steps. The
persuasion (shortly to be verified) that I was close upon the
secret hold of the Chinaman, grew stronger, unaccountably. I had
descended some eight steps, and was at the darkest part of the
archway or tunnel, when confirmation of my theories came to me.
    A noose settled accurately upon my shoulders, was snatched
tightly about my throat, and with a feeling of insupportable agony
at the base of my skull, and a sudden supreme knowledge that I was
being strangled—hanged—I lost consciousness!
    How long I remained unconscious, I was unable to determine at
the time, but I learned later, that it was for no more than half an
hour; at any rate, recovery was slow.
    The first sensation to return to me was a sort of repetition of
the asphyxia. The blood seemed to be forcing itself into my eyes—I
choked—I felt that my end was come. And, raising my hands to my
throat, I found it to be swollen and inflamed. Then the floor upon
which I lay seemed to be rocking like the deck of a ship, and I
glided back again into a place of darkness and forgetfulness.
    My second awakening was heralded by a returning sense of smell;
for I became conscious of a faint, exquisite perfume.
    It brought me to my senses as nothing else could have done, and
I sat upright with a hoarse cry. I could have distinguished that
perfume amid a thousand others, could have marked it apart from the
rest in a scent bazaar. For me it had one meaning, and one meaning
only—Karamaneh.
    She was near to me, or had been near to me!
    And in the first moments of my awakening, I groped about in the
darkness blindly seeking her.
    Then my swollen throat and throbbing head, together with my
utter inability to move my neck even slightly, reminded me of the
facts as they were. I knew in that bitter moment that Karamaneh was
no longer my friend; but, for all her beauty and charm, was the
most heartless, the most fiendish creature in