CHAPTER XXVI. THE FIERY HAND

  Smith walked ahead of me upstairs; he had snapped up the light in thehallway, and now he turned and cried back loudly:

  "I fear we should never get servants to stay here."

  Again I detected the appeal to a hidden Audience; and there wassomething very uncanny in the idea. The house now was deathly still; theringing had entirely subsided. In the upper corridor my companion, whoseemed to be well acquainted with the position of the switches, againturned up all the lights, and in pursuit of the strange comedy which hesaw fit to enact, addressed me continuously in the loud and unnaturalvoice which he had adopted as part of his disguise.

  We looked into a number of rooms all well and comfortably furnished, butalthough my imagination may have been responsible for the idea, theyall seemed to possess a chilly and repellent atmosphere. I felt that toessay sleep in any one of them would be the merest farce, that theplace to all intents and purposes was uninhabitable, that somethingincalculably evil presided over the house.

  And through it all, so obtuse was I, that no glimmer of the truthentered my mind. Outside again in the long, brightly lighted corridor,we stood for a moment as if a mutual anticipation of some new eventpending had come to us. It was curious that sudden pulling up and silentquestioning of one another; because, although we acted thus, no soundhad reached us. A few seconds later our anticipation was realized. Fromthe direction of the stairs it came--a low wailing in a woman's voice;and the sweetness of the tones added to the terror of the sound. Iclutched at Smith's arm convulsively whilst that uncanny cry rose andfell--rose and fell--and died away.

  Neither of us moved immediately. My mind was working with feverishrapidity and seeking to run down a memory which the sound had stirredinto faint quickness. My heart was still leaping wildly when the wailingbegan again, rising and falling in regular cadence. At that instant Iidentified it.

  During the time Smith and I had spent together in Egypt, two yearsbefore, searching for Karamaneh, I had found myself on one occasion inthe neighborhood of a native cemetery near to Bedrasheen. Now, thescene which I had witnessed there rose up again vividly before me, andI seemed to see a little group of black-robed women clustered togetherabout a native grave; for the wailing which now was dying away againin the Gables was the same, or almost the same, as the wailing of thoseEgyptian mourners.

  The house was very silent again, now. My forehead was damp withperspiration, and I became more and more convinced that the uncannyordeal must prove too much for my nerves. Hitherto, I had accordedlittle credence to tales of the supernatural, but face to face with suchmanifestations as these, I realized that I would have faced rather agroup of armed dacoits, nay! Dr. Fu-Manchu himself, than have remainedanother hour in that ill-omened house.

  My companion must have read as much in my face. But he kept up thestrange, and to me, purposeless comedy, when presently he spoke.

  "I feel it to be incumbent upon me to suggest," he said, "that we spendthe night at a hotel after all."

  He walked rapidly downstairs and into the library and began to strap upthe grip.

  "After all," he said, "there may be a natural explanation of what we'veheard; for it is noteworthy that we have actually seen nothing. It mighteven be possible to get used to the ringing and the wailing after atime. Frankly, I am loath to go back on my bargain!"

  Whilst I stared at him in amazement, he stood there indeterminate as itseemed, Then:

  "Come, Pearce!" he cried loudly, "I can see that you do not share myviews; but for my own part I shall return to-morrow and devote furtherattention to the phenomena."

  Extinguishing the light, he walked out into the hallway, carrying thegrip in his hand. I was not far behind him. We walked toward the doortogether, and:

  "Turn the light out, Pearce," directed Smith; "the switch is at yourelbow. We can see our way to the door well enough, now."

  In order to carry out these instructions, it became necessary for me toremain a few paces in the rear of my companion, and I think I have neverexperienced such a pang of nameless terror as pierced me at the momentof extinguishing the light; for Smith had not yet opened the door, andthe utter darkness of the Gables was horrible beyond expression. Surelydarkness is the most potent weapon of the Unknown. I know that at themoment my hand left the switch, I made for the door as though the hostsof hell pursued me. I collided violently with Smith. He was evidentlyfacing toward me in the darkness, for at the moment of our collision, hegrasped my shoulder as in a vise.

  "My God, Petrie! look behind you!" he whispered.

  I was enabled to judge of the extent and reality of his fear by thefact that the strange subterfuge of addressing me always as Pearce wasforgotten. I turned, in a flash....

  Never can I forget what I saw. Many strange and terrible memories aremine, memories stranger and more terrible than those of the averageman; but this thing which now moved slowly down upon us throughthe impenetrable gloom of that haunted place, was (if the term beunderstood) almost absurdly horrible. It was a medieval legend come tolife in modern London; it was as though some horrible chimera of theblack and ignorant past was become create and potent in the present.

  A luminous hand--a hand in the veins of which fire seemed to run sothat the texture of the skin and the shape of the bones within wereperceptible--in short a hand of glowing, fiery flesh clutching a shortknife or dagger which also glowed with the same hellish, internalluminance, was advancing upon us where we stood--was not three pacesremoved!

  What I did or how I came to do it, I can never recall. In all my yearsI have experienced nothing to equal the stark panic which seized upon methen. I know that I uttered a loud and frenzied cry; I know that I toremyself like a madman from Smith's restraining grip...

  "Don't touch it! Keep away, for your life!" I heard...

  But, dimly I recollect that, finding the thing approaching yet nearer,I lashed out with my fists--madly, blindly--and struck somethingpalpable...

  What was the result, I cannot say. At that point my recollectionsmerge into confusion. Something or some one (Smith, as I afterwardsdiscovered) was hauling me by main force through the darkness; I fell aconsiderable distance onto gravel which lacerated my hands and gashedmy knees. Then, with the cool night air fanning my brow, I was running,running--my breath coming in hysterical sobs. Beside me fled anotherfigure.... And my definite recollections commence again at that point.For this companion of my flight from the Gables threw himself roughlyagainst me to alter my course.

  "Not that way! not that way!" came pantingly.

  "Not on to the Heath... we must keep to the roads..."

  It was Nayland Smith. That healing realization came to me, bringing sucha gladness as no words of mine can express nor convey. Still we ran on.

  "There's a policeman's lantern," panted my companion. "They'll attemptnothing, now!"

  * * * * *

  I gulped down the stiff brandy-and-soda, then glanced across to whereNayland Smith lay extended in the long, cane chair.

  "Perhaps you will explain," I said, "for what purpose you submittedme to that ordeal. If you proposed to correct my skepticism concerningsupernatural manifestations, you have succeeded."

  "Yes," said my companion, musingly, "they are devilishly clever; but weknew that already."

  I stared at him, fatuously.

  "Have you ever known me to waste my time when there was important workto do?" he continued. "Do you seriously believe that my ghost-huntingwas undertaken for amusement? Really, Petrie, although you are very fondof assuring me that I need a holiday, I think the shoe is on the otherfoot!"

  From the pocket of his dressing-gown, he took out a piece of silk fringewhich had apparently been torn from a scarf, and rolling it into a ball,tossed it across to me.

  "Smell!" he snapped.

  I did as he directed--and gave a great start. The silk exhaled afaint perfume, but its effect upon me was as though some one had criedaloud:--

  "
Karamaneh!"

  Beyond doubt the silken fragment had belonged to the beautiful servantof Dr. Fu-Manchu, to the dark-eyed, seductive Karamaneh. Nayland Smithwas watching me keenly.

  "You recognize it--yes?"

  I placed the piece of silk upon the table, slightly shrugging myshoulders.

  "It was sufficient evidence in itself," continued my friend, "but Ithought it better to seek confirmation, and the obvious way was to poseas a new lessee of the Gables..."

  "But, Smith," I began...

  "Let me explain, Petrie. The history of the Gables seemed to besusceptible of only one explanation; in short it was fairly evident tome that the object of the manifestations was to insure the place beingkept empty. This idea suggested another, and with them both in mind, Iset out to make my inquiries, first taking the precaution to disguise myidentity, to which end Weymouth gave me the freedom of Scotland Yard'sfancy wardrobe. I did not take the agent into my confidence, but posedas a stranger who had heard that the house was to let furnished andthought it might suit his purpose. My inquiries were directed to aparticular end, but I failed to achieve it at the time. I had theories,as I have said, and when, having paid the deposit and secured possessionof the keys, I was enabled to visit the place alone, I was fortunateenough to obtain evidence to show that my imagination had not misled me.

  "You were very curious the other morning, I recall, respecting my objectin borrowing a large brace and bit. My object, Petrie, was to bore aseries of holes in the wainscoating of various rooms at the Gables--ininconspicuous positions, of course..."

  "But, my dear Smith!" I cried, "you are merely adding to mymystification."

  He stood up and began to pace the room in his restless fashion.

  "I had cross-examined Weymouth closely regarding the phenomenon ofthe bell-ringing, and an exhaustive search of the premises led to thediscovery that the house was in such excellent condition that, fromground-floor to attic, there was not a solitary crevice large enough toadmit of the passage of a mouse."

  I suppose I must have been staring very foolishly indeed, for NaylandSmith burst into one of his sudden laughs.

  "A mouse, I said, Petrie!" he cried. "With the brace-and-bit I rectifiedthat matter. I made the holes I have mentioned, and before each set atrap baited with a piece of succulent, toasted cheese. Just open thatgrip!"

  The light at last was dawning upon my mental darkness, and I pouncedupon the grip, which stood upon a chair near the window, and opened it.A sickly smell of cooked cheese assailed my nostrils.

  "Mind your fingers!" cried Smith; "some of them are still set,possibly."

  Out from the grip I began to take mouse-traps! Two or three of them werestill set but in the case of the greater number the catches had slipped.Nine I took out and placed upon the table, and all were empty. Inthe tenth there crouched, panting, its soft furry body dank withperspiration, a little white mouse!

  "Only one capture!" cried my companion, "showing how well-fed thecreatures were. Examine his tail!"

  But already I had perceived that to which Smith would draw my attention,and the mystery of the "astral bells" was a mystery no longer. Bound tothe little creature's tail, close to the root, with fine soft wiresuch as is used for making up bouquets, were three tiny silver bells. Ilooked across at my companion in speechless surprise.

  "Almost childish, is it not?" he said; "yet by means of this simpledevice the Gables has been emptied of occupant after occupant. There wassmall chance of the trick being detected, for, as I have said, there wasabsolutely no aperture from roof to basement by means of which one ofthem could have escaped into the building."

  "Then..."

  "They were admitted into the wall cavities and the rafters, from somecellar underneath, Petrie, to which, after a brief scamper under thefloors and over the ceilings, they instinctively returned for thefood they were accustomed to receive, and for which, even had it beenpossible (which it was not) they had no occasion to forage."

  I, too, stood up; for excitement was growing within me. I took up thepiece of silk from the table.

  "Where did you find this?" I asked, my eyes upon Smith's keen face.

  "In a sort of wine cellar, Petrie," he replied, "under the stair. Thereis no cellar proper to the Gables--at least no such cellar appears inthe plans."

  "But..."

  "But there is one beyond doubt--yes! It must be part of some olderbuilding which occupied the site before the Gables was built. One canonly surmise that it exists, although such a surmise is a fairly safeone, and the entrance to the subterranean portion of the building issituated beyond doubt in the wine cellar. Of this we have at least twoevidences:--the finding of the fragment of silk there, and the fact thatin one case at least--as I learned--the light was extinguished in thelibrary unaccountably. This could only have been done in one way: bymanipulating the main switch, which is also in the wine cellar."

  "But Smith!" I cried, "do you mean that Fu-Manchu..."

  Nayland Smith turned in his promenade of the floor, and stared into myeyes.

  "I mean that Dr. Fu-Manchu has had a hiding-place under the Gables foran indefinite period!" he replied. "I always suspected that a man of hisgenius would have a second retreat prepared for him, anticipating theevent of the first being discovered. Oh! I don't doubt it! The placeprobably is extensive, and I am almost certain--though the point hasto be confirmed--that there is another entrance from the studio furtheralong the road. We know, now, why our recent searchings in the East Endhave proved futile; why the house in Museum Street was deserted; he hasbeen lying low in this burrow at Hampstead!"

  "But the hand, Smith, the luminous hand..."

  Nayland Smith laughed shortly.

  "Your superstitious fears overcame you to such an extent, Petrie--and Idon't wonder at it; the sight was a ghastly one--that probably you don'tremember what occurred when you struck out at that same ghostly hand?"

  "I seemed to hit something."

  "That was why we ran. But I think our retreat had all the appearance ofa rout, as I intended that it should. Pardon my playing upon your verynatural fears, old man, but you could not have simulated panic half sonaturally! And if they had suspected that the device was discovered,we might never have quitted the Gables alive. It was touch-and-go for amoment."

  "But..."

  "Turn out the light!" snapped my companion.

  Wondering greatly, I did as he desired. I turned out the light... andin the darkness of my own study I saw a fiery fist being shaken at methreateningly!... The bones were distinctly visible, and the luminosityof the flesh was truly ghastly.

  "Turn on the light, again!" cried Smith.

  Deeply mystified, I did so... and my friend tossed a little electricpocket-lamp on to the writing-table.

  "They used merely a small electric lamp fitted into the handle of aglass dagger," he said with a sort of contempt. "It was very effective,but the luminous hand is a phenomenon producible by any one whopossesses an electric torch."

  "The Gables--will be watched?"

  "At last, Petrie, I think we have Fu-Manchu--in his own trap!"