The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer Page B

the same—you understand? She has been
here three times—"
    "Karamaneh?"…
    "Ssh!"
    I heard a sound like the opening of a distant door.
    "Quick! the straps of the gag!" whispered Smith, "and pretend to
recover consciousness just as they enter—"
    Clumsily I followed his directions, for my fingers were none too
steady, replaced the lamp in my pocket, and threw myself upon the
floor.
    Through half-shut eyes, I saw the door open and obtained a
glimpse of a desolate, empty passage beyond. On the threshold stood
Karamaneh. She held in her hand a common tin oil lamp which smoked
and flickered with every movement, filling the already none too
cleanly air with an odor of burning paraffin. She personified the
outre; nothing so incongruous as her presence in that place could
well be imagined. She was dressed as I remembered once to have seen
her two years before, in the gauzy silks of the harem. There were
pearls glittering like great tears amid the cloud of her wonderful
hair. She wore broad gold bangles upon her bare arms, and her
fingers were laden with jewelry. A heavy girdle swung from her
hips, defining the lines of her slim shape, and about one white
ankle was a gold band.
    As she appeared in the doorway I almost entirely closed my eyes,
but my gaze rested fascinatedly upon the little red slippers which
she wore.
    Again I detected the exquisite, elusive perfume, which, like a
breath of musk, spoke of the Orient; and, as always, it played
havoc with my reason, seeming to intoxicate me as though it were
the very essence of her loveliness.
    But I had a part to play, and throwing out one clenched hand so
that my fist struck upon the floor, I uttered a loud groan, and
made as if to rise upon my knees.
    One quick glimpse I had of her wonderful eyes, widely opened and
turned upon me with such an enigmatical expression as set my heart
leaping wildly—then, stepping back, Karamaneh placed the lamp upon
the boards of the passage and clapped her hands.
    As I sank upon the floor in assumed exhaustion, a Chinaman with
a perfectly impassive face, and a Burman, whose pock-marked, evil
countenance was set in an apparently habitual leer, came running
into the room past the girl.
    With a hand which trembled violently, she held the lamp whilst
the two yellow ruffians tied me. I groaned and struggled feebly,
fixing my gaze upon the lamp-bearer in a silent reproach which was
by no means without its effect.
    She lowered her eyes, and I could see her biting her lip, whilst
the color gradually faded from her cheeks. Then, glancing up again
quickly, and still meeting that reproachful stare, she turned her
head aside altogether, and rested one hand upon the wall, swaying
slightly as she did so.
    It was a singular ordeal for more than one of that incongruous
group; but in order that I may not be charged with hypocrisy or
with seeking to hide my own folly, I confess, here, that when again
I found myself in darkness, my heart was leaping not because of the
success of my strategy, but because of the success of that
reproachful glance which I had directed toward the lovely,
dark-eyed Karamaneh, toward the faithless, evil Karamaneh! So much
for myself.
    The door had not been closed ten seconds, ere Smith again was
spitting out the gag, swearing under his breath, and stretching his
cramped limbs free from their binding. Within a minute from the
time of my trussing, I was a free man again; save that look where I
would—to right, to left, or inward, to my own conscience—two dark
eyes met mine, enigmatically.
    "What now?" I whispered.
    "Let me think," replied Smith. "A false move would destroy
us."
    "How long have you been here?"
    "Since last night."
    "Is Fu-Manchu—"
    "Fu-Manchu is here!" replied Smith, grimly—"and not only
Fu-Manchu, but—another."
    "Another!"
    "A higher than Fu-Manchu, apparently. I have an idea of the
identity of this person, but no more than an idea. Something
unusual is going on, Petrie; otherwise I should have been a dead
man