CHAPTER V
THE ASSASSINS
On the wall hung a map of Mongolia, that indefinite region a million anda half square miles in area, vast sections of which have never beenexplored.
Turkestan and China border it on the south, and Tibet almost touches it,not quite.
Even in the twelfth century, when the wild Mongols broke loose andnearly overran the world, the Tibet infantry under Genghis, theTchortcha horsemen drafted out of Black China, and a great cloud ofMongol cavalry under the Prince of the Vanguard commanding half ahundred Hezars, never penetrated that grisly and unknown waste. The"Eight Towers of the Assassins" guarded it--still guard it, possibly.
The vice-regent of Erlik, Prince of Darkness, dwelt within this unknownland. And dwells there still, perhaps.
In front of this wall-map stood Tressa Norne.
Behind her, facing the map, four men were seated--three of them underthirty.
These three were volunteers in the service of the United StatesGovernment--men of independent means, of position, who had volunteeredfor military duty at the outbreak of the great war. However, they hadbeen assigned by the Government to a very different sort of duty no lessexciting than service on the fighting line, but far less conspicuous,for they had been drafted into the United States Department of Justice.
The names of these three were Victor Cleves, a professor of ornithologyat Harvard University before the war; Alexander Selden, junior partnerin the banking firm of Milwyn, Selden, and Co., and James Benton, a NewYork architect.
The fourth man's name was John Recklow. He might have been over fifty,or under. He was well-built, in a square, athletic way, clear-skinnedand ruddy, grey-eyed, quiet in voice and manner. His hair and moustachehad turned silvery. He had been employed by the Government for manyyears. He seemed to be enormously interested in what Miss Norne wassaying.
Also he was the only man who interrupted her narrative to ask questions.And his questions revealed a knowledge which was making the girl moresensitive and uneasy every moment.
Finally, when she spoke of the Scarlet Desert, he asked if the ScarletLake were there and if the Xin was still supposed to inhabit itsvermilion depths. And at that she turned and looked at him, herforefinger still resting on the map.
"Where have you ever heard of the Scarlet Lake and the Xin?" she askedas though frightened.
Recklow said quietly that as a boy he had served under Gordon and SirRobert.
"If, as a boy, you served under Chinese Gordon, you already know much ofwhat I have told you, Mr. Recklow. Is it not true?" she demandednervously.
"That makes no difference," he replied with a smile. "It is all very newto these three young gentlemen. And as for myself, I am checking up whatyou say and comparing it with what I heard many, many years ago when mycomrade Barres and I were in Yian."
"Did you really know Sir Robert Hart?"
"Yes."
"Then why do you not explain to these gentlemen?"
"Dear child," he interrupted gently, "what did Chinese Gordon or SirRobert Hart, or even my comrade Barres, or I myself know about occultAsia in comparison to what you know?--a girl who has actually served themysteries of Erlik for four amazing years!"
She paled a trifle, came slowly across the room to where Recklow wasseated, laid a timid hand on his sleeve.
"Do you believe there are sorcerers in Asia?" she asked with thatchild-like directness which her wonderful blue eyes corroborated.
Recklow remained silent.
"Because," she went on, "if, in your heart, you do not believe this tobe an accursed fact, then what I have to say will mean nothing to any ofyou."
Recklow touched his short, silvery moustache, hesitating. Then:
"The worship of Erlik is devil worship," he said. "Also I am entirelyprepared to believe that there are, among the Yezidees, adepts whoemploy scientific weapons against civilisation--who have probablyobtained a rather terrifying knowledge of psychic laws which they usescientifically, and which to ordinary, God-fearing folk appear to be theblack magic of sorcerers."
Cleves said: "The employment by the huns of poison gases and long-rangecannon is a parallel case. Before the war we could not believe in thepossibility of a cannon that threw shells a distance of seventy miles."
The girl still addressed herself to Recklow: "Then you do not believethere are real sorcerers in Asia, Mr. Recklow?"
"Not sorcerers with supernatural powers for evil. Only degenerate humanbeings who, somehow, have managed to tap invisible psychic currents, andhave learned how to use terrific forces about which, so far, we knowpractically nothing."
She spoke again in the same uneasy voice: "Then you do not believe thateither God or Satan is involved?"
"No," he replied smilingly, "and you must not so believe."
"Nor the--the destruction of human souls," she persisted; "you do notbelieve it is being accomplished to-day?"
"Not in the slightest, dear young lady," he said cheerfully.
"Do you not believe that to have been instructed in such unlawfulknowledge is damning? Do you not believe that ability to employ unknownforces is forbidden of God, and that to disobey His law means death tothe soul?"
"No!"
"That it is the price one pays to Satan for occult power over people'sminds?" she insisted.
"Hypnotic suggestion is not one of the cardinal sins," explainedRecklow, still smiling--"unless wickedly employed. The Yezideepriesthood is a band of so-called sorcerers only because of their wickedemployment of whatever hypnotic and psychic knowledge they may haveobtained.
"There was nothing intrinsically wicked in the huns' discovery ofphosgene. But the use they made of it made devils out of them. Myability to manufacture phosgene gas is no crime. But if I manufacture itand use it to poison innocent human beings, then, in that sense, I am,perhaps, a sort of modern sorcerer."
Tressa Norne turned paler:
"I had better tell you that I _have_ used--forbidden knowledge--whichthe Yezidees taught me in the temple of Erlik."
"Used it how?" demanded Cleves.
"To--to earn a living.... And once or twice to defend myself."
There was the slightest scepticism in Recklow's bland smile. "You didquite right, Miss Norne."
She had become very white now. She stood beside Recklow, her back towardthe suspended map, and looked in a scared sort of way from one to theother of the men seated before her, turning finally to Cleves, andcoming toward him.
"I--I once killed a man," she said with a catch in her breath.
Cleves reddened with astonishment. "Why did you do that?" he asked.
"He was already on his way to kill me in bed."
"You were perfectly right," remarked Recklow coolly.
"I don't know ... I was in bed.... And then, on the edge of sleep, Ifelt his mind groping to get hold of mine--feeling about in the darknessto get hold of my brain and seize it and paralyse it."
All colour had left her face. Cleves gripped the arm of his chair andwatched her intently.
"I--I had only a moment's mental freedom," she went on in a ghost of avoice. "I was just able to rouse myself, fight off those murderousbrain-fingers--let loose a clear mental ray.... And then, O God! I sawhim in his room with his Kalmuck knife--saw him already on his way tomurder me--Gutchlug Khan, the Yezidee--looking about in his bedroom fora shroud.... And when--when he reached for the bed to draw forth a fine,white sheet for the shroud without which no Yezidee dares journeydeathward--then--_then_ I became frightened.... And I killed him--I slewhim there in his hotel bedroom on the floor above mine!"
Selden moistened his lips: "That Oriental, Gutchlug, died fromheart-failure in a San Francisco hotel," he said. "I was there at thetime."
"He died by the fangs of a little yellow snake," whispered the girl.
"There was no snake in his room," retorted Cleves.
"And no wound on his body," added Selden. "I attended the autopsy."
She said, faintly: "There was no snake, and no woun
d, as you say.... YetGutchlug died of both there in his bedroom.... And before he died heheard his soul bidding him farewell; and he saw the death-adder coiledin the sheet he clutched--saw the thing strike him again and again--sawand felt the tiny wounds on his left hand; felt the fangs pricking deep,deep into the veins; died of it there within the minute--died of theswiftest poison known. And yet----"
She turned her dead-white face to Cleves--"And yet _there was no snakethere_!... And never had been.... And so I--I ask you, gentlemen, ifsouls do not die when minds learn to fight death with death--and deal itso swiftly, so silently, while one's body lies, unstirring on a bed--ina locked room on the floor below----"
She swayed a little, put out one hand rather blindly.
Recklow rose and passed a muscular arm around her; Cleves, beside her,held her left hand, crushing it, without intention, until she opened hereyes with a cry of pain.
"Are you all right?" asked Recklow bluntly.
"Yes." She turned and looked at Cleves and he caressed her bruised handas though dazed.
"Tell me," she said to Cleves--"you who know--know more about my mindthan anybody living----" a painful colour surged into her face--but shewent on steadily, forcing herself to meet his gaze: "tell me, Mr.Cleves--do you still believe that nothing can really destroy my soul?And that it shall yet win through to safety?"
He said: "Your soul is in God's keeping, and always shall be.... And ifthe Yezidees have made you believe otherwise, they lie."
Recklow added in a slow, perplexed way: "I have no personal knowledge ofpsychic power. I am not psychic, not susceptible. But if you actuallypossess such ability, Miss Norne, and if you have employed suchknowledge to defend your life, then you have done absolutely right."
"No guilt touches you," added Selden with an involuntary shiver, "if byhypnosis or psychic ability you really did put an end to that would-bemurderer, Gutchlug."
Selden said: "If Gutchlug died by the fangs of a yellow death-adderwhich existed only in his own mind, and if you actually had anything todo with it you acted purely in self-defence."
"You did your full duty," added Benton--"but--good God!--it seemsincredible to me, that such power can actually be available in theworld!"
Recklow spoke again in his pleasant, undisturbed voice: "Go back to themap, Miss Norne, and tell us a little more about this rather terrifyingthing which you believe menaces the civilised world with destruction."
Tressa Norne laid a slim finger on the map. Her voice had become steady.She said:
"The devil-worship, of which one of the modern developments isBolshevism, and another the terrorism of the hun, began in Asia longbefore Christ's advent: At least so it was taught us in the temple ofErlik.
"It has always existed, its aim always has been the annihilation of goodand the elevation of evil; the subjection of right by might, and theworldwide triumph of wrong.
"Perhaps it is as old as the first battle between God and Satan. I havewondered about it, sometimes. There in the dusk of the temple when theEight Assassins came--the eight Sheiks-el-Djebel, all in white--chantingthe Yakase of Sabbah--always that dirge when they came and spread theireight white shrouds on the temple steps----"
Her voice caught; she waited to recover her composure. Then went on:
"The ambition of Genghis was to conquer the world by force of arms. Itwas merely of physical subjection that he dreamed. But the Slayer ofSouls----"
"Who?" asked Recklow sharply.
"The Slayer of Souls--Erlik's vice-regent on earth--Hassan Sabbah. TheOld Man of the Mountain. It is of him I am speaking," exclaimed TressaNorne--with quiet resolution. "Genghis sought only physical conquest ofman; the Yezidee's ambition is more awful, _for he is attempting tosurprise and seize the very minds of men_!"
There was a dead silence. Tressa looked palely upon the four.
"The Yezidees--who you tell me are not sorcerers--are using power--whichyou tell me is not magic accursed by God--to waylay, capture, enslave,and destroy _the minds and souls of mankind_.
"It may be that what they employ is hypnotic ability and psychic powerand can be, some day, explained on a scientific basis when we learn moreabout the occult laws which govern these phenomena.
"But could anything render the threat less awful? For there have existedfor centuries--perhaps always--a sect of Satanists determined upon thedestruction of everything that is pure and holy and good on earth; andthey are resolved to substitute for righteousness the dreadful reign ofhell.
"In the beginning there were comparatively few of these human demons.Gradually, through the eras, they have increased. In the twelfth centurythere were fifty thousand of the Sect of Assassins.
"Beside the castle of the Slayer of Souls on Mount Alamout----" she laidher finger on the map--"eight other towers were erected for the EightChief Assassins, called Sheiks-el-Djebel.
"In the temple we were taught where these eight towers stood." Shepicked up a pencil, and on eight blank spaces of unexplored and unmappedMongolia she made eight crosses. Then she turned to the men behind her.
"It was taught to us in the temple that from these eight _foci_ ofinfection the disease of evil has been spreading throughout the world;from these eight towers have gone forth every year the emissaries ofevil--perverted missionaries--to spread the poisonous propaganda, toteach it, to tamper stealthily with the minds of men, dominate them,pervert them, instruct them in the creed of the Assassin of Souls.
"All over the world are people, already contaminated, whose minds arealready enslaved and poisoned, and who are infecting the still healthybrains of others--stealthily possessing themselves of the minds ofmankind--teaching them evil, inviting them to mock the precepts ofChrist.
"Of such lost minds are the degraded brains of the Germans--the pastorsand philosophers who teach that might is right.
"Of such crippled minds are the Bolsheviki, poisoned long, long ago byclose contact with Asia which, before that, had infected and enslavedthe minds of the ruling classes with ferocious philosophy.
"Of such minds are all anarchists of every shade and stripe--allterrorists, all disciples of violence,--the murderously envious, theslothful slinking brotherhood which prowls through the world takingevery opportunity to set it afire; those mentally dulled by reason ofexcesses; those weak intellects become unsound through futilegabble,--parlour socialists, amateur revolutionists, theoreticalincapables excited by discussion fit only for healthy minds."
She left the map and came over to where the four men were seatedterribly intent upon her every word.
"In the temple of Erlik, where my girlhood was passed after the murderof my parents, I learned what I am repeating to you," she said.
"I learned this, also, that the Eight Towers still exist--still standto-day,--at least theoretically--and that from the Eight Towers poursforth across the world a stream of poison.
"I was told that, to every country, eight Yezidees were allotted--eightsorcerers--or adepts in scientific psychology if you prefer it--whosemission is to teach the gospel of hell and gradually but surely to winthe minds of men to the service of the Slayer of Souls.
"That is what was taught us in the temple. We were educated in thedevelopment of occult powers--for it seems all human beings possess thispsychic power latent within them--only few, even when instructed,acquire any ability to control and use this force....
"I--I learned--rapidly. I even thought, sometimes, that the Yezideeswere beginning to be a little afraid of me,--even the Hassanipriests.... And the Sheiks-el-Djebel, spreading their shrouds on thetemple steps, looked at me with unquiet eyes, where I stood like acorpse amid the incense clouds----"
She passed her fingers over her eyelids, then framed her face betweenboth hands for a moment's thought lost in tragic retrospection.
"Kai!" she whispered dreamily as though to herself--"what Erlik awokewithin my body that was asleep, God knows, but it was as though a twincomrade arose within me and looked out through my eyes upon a worldwhich never before had been visibl
e."
Utter silence reigned in the room: Cleves's breathing seemed almostpainful to him so intently was he listening and watching this girl;Benton's hands whitened with his grip on the chair-arms; Selden, tense,absorbed, kept his keen gaze of a business man fastened on her face.Recklow slowly caressed the cold bowl of his pipe with both thumbs.
Tressa Norne's strange and remote eyes subtly altered, and she liftedher head and looked calmly at the men before her.
"I think that there is nothing more for me to add," she said. "The RedSpectre of Anarchy, called Bolshevism at present, threatens our country.Our Government is now awake to this menace and the Secret Service ismoving everywhere.
"Great damage already has been done to the minds of many people in thisRepublic; poison has spread; is spreading. The Eight Towers still stand.The Eight Assassins are in America.
"But these eight Assassins know me to be their enemy.... They willsurely attempt to kill me.... I don't believe I can avoid--death--verylong.... But I want to serve my country and--and mankind."
"They'll have to get me first," said Cleves, bluntly. "I shall notpermit you out of my sight."
Recklow said in a musing voice: "And these eight gentlemen, who are verylikely to hurt us, also, are the first people we ought to hunt."
"To get them," added Selden, "we ought to choke the stream at itssource."
"To find out who they are is what is going to worry us," added Benton.Cleves had stood holding a chair for Tressa Norne. Finally she noticedit and seated herself as though tired.
"Is Sanang one of these eight?" he asked her. The girl turned and lookedup at him, and he saw the flush mounting in her face.
"Sometimes," she said steadily, "I have almost believed he was Erlik'sown vice-regent on earth--the Slayer of Souls himself."
* * * * *
Benton and Selden had gone. Recklow left a little later. Clevesaccompanied him out to the landing.
"Are you going to keep Miss Norne here with you for the present?"inquired the older man.
"Yes. I dare not let her out of my sight, Recklow. What else can I do?"
"I don't know. Is she prepared for the consequences?"
"Gossip? Slander?"
"Of course."
"I can get a housekeeper."
"That only makes it look worse."
Cleves reddened. "Well, do you want to find her in some hotel orapartment with her throat cut?"
"No," replied Recklow, gently, "I do not."
"Then what else is there to do but keep her here in my own apartment andnever let her out of my sight until we can find and lock up the eightgentlemen who are undoubtedly bent on murdering her?"
"Isn't there some woman in the Service who could help out? I couldmention several."
"I tell you I can't trust Tressa Norne to anybody except myself,"insisted Cleves. "I got her into this; I am responsible if she ismurdered; I dare not entrust her safety to anybody else. And, Recklow,it's a ghastly responsibility for a man to induce a young girl to facedeath, even in the service of her country."
"If she remains here alone with you she'll face social destruction,"remarked Recklow.
Cleves was silent for a moment, then he burst out: "Well, what am I todo? What is there left for me to do except to watch over her and see herthrough this devilish business? What other way have I to protect her,Recklow?"
"You could offer her the protection of your name," suggested the other,carelessly.
"What? You mean--marry her?"
"Well, nobody else would be inclined to, Cleves, if it ever becomesknown she has lived here quite alone with you."
Cleves stared at the elder man.
"This is nonsense," he said in a harsh voice. "That young girl doesn'twant to marry anybody. Neither do I. She doesn't wish to have her throatcut, that's all. And I'm determined she shan't."
"There are stealthier assassins, Cleves,--the slayers of reputations. Itgoes badly with their victim. It does indeed."
"Well, hang it, what do you think I ought to do?"
"I think you ought to marry her if you're going to keep her here."
"Suppose she doesn't mind the unconventionality of it?"
"All women mind. No woman, at heart, is unconventional, Cleves."
"She--she seems to agree with me that she ought to stay here....Besides, she has no money, no relatives, no friends in America----"
"All the more tragic. If you really believe it to be your duty to keepher here where you can look after her bodily safety, then the otherobligation is still heavier. And there may come a day when Miss Nornewill wish that you had been less conscientious concerning the safety ofher pretty throat.... For the knife of the Yezidee is swifter and lesscruel than the tongue that slays with a smile.... And this young girlhas many years to live, after this business of Bolshevism is dead andforgotten in our Republic."
"Recklow!"
"Yes?"
"You think I might dare try to find a room somewhere else for her andlet her take her chances? _Do_ you?"
"It's your affair."
"I know--hang it! I know it's my affair. I've unintentionally made itso. But can't you tell me what I ought to do?"
"I can't."
"What would _you_ do?"
"Don't ask me," returned Recklow, sharply. "If you're not man enough tocome to a decision you may turn her over to me."
Cleves flushed brightly. "Do you think _you_ are old enough to take myjob and avoid scandal?"
Recklow's cold eyes rested on him: "If you like," he said, "I'll assumeyour various kinds of personal responsibility toward Miss Norne."
Cleve's visage burned. "I'll shoulder my own burdens," he retorted.
"Sure. I knew you would." And Recklow smiled and held out his hand.Cleves took it without cordiality. Standing so, Recklow, still smiling,said: "What a rotten deal that child has had--is having. Her father andmother were fine people. Did you ever hear of Dr. Norne?"
"She mentioned him once."
"They were up-State people of most excellent antecedents and no money.
"Dr. Norne was our Vice-Consul at Yarkand in the province of Sin Kiang.All he had was his salary, and he lost that and his post when theadministration changed. Then he went into the spice trade.
"Some Jew syndicate here sent him up the Yarkand River to see what couldbe done about jade and gold concessions. He was on that business whenthe tragedy happened. The Kalmuks and Khirghiz were responsible, underYezidee instigation. And there you are:--and here is his child,Cleves--back, by some miracle, from that flowering hell called Yian,believing in her heart that she really lost her soul there in thetemple. And now, here in her own native land, she is exposed to actualand hourly danger of assassination.... Poor kid!... Did you ever hear ofa rottener deal, Cleves?"
Their hands had remained clasped while Recklow was speaking. He spokeagain, clearly, amiably:
"To lay down one's life for a friend is fine. I'm not sure that it'sfiner to offer one's honour in behalf of a girl whose honour is atstake."
After a moment Cleves's grip tightened.
"All right," he said.
Recklow went downstairs.