CHAPTER XXXIX
THE SHADOW ARMY
The scene of our return to Graywater Park is destined to live in mymemory for ever. The storm, of which the violet rainfall had been aprelude, gathered blackly over the hills. Ebon clouds lowered upon usas we came racing to the gates. Then the big car was spinning aroundthe carriage sweep, amid a deathly stillness of Nature indescribablygloomy and ominous. I have said, a stillness of nature; but, asKennedy leapt out and ran up the steps to the door, from the distantcages wherein Sire Lionel kept his collection of rare beasts proceededthe angry howling of the leopards and such a wild succession of roarsfrom the African lioness that I stared at our eccentric hostquestioningly.
"It's the gathering storm," he explained. "These creatures arepeculiarly susceptible to atmospheric disturbances."
Now the door was thrown open, and, standing in the lighted hall,a picture fair to look upon in her dainty kimono and little red,high-heeled slippers, stood Karamaneh!
I was beside her in a moment; for the lovely face was pale and therewas a wildness in her eyes which alarmed me.
"_He_ is somewhere near!" she whispered, clinging to me. "Some greatdanger threatens. Where have you been?--what has happened?"
"Smith was attacked on his way back from London," I replied. "But, asyou see, he is quite recovered. We are in no danger; and I insist thatyou go back to bed. We shall tell you all about it in the morning."
Rebellion blazed up in her wonderful eyes instantly--and as quicklywas gone, leaving them exquisitely bright. Two tears, like twin pearls,hung upon the curved black lashes. It made my blood course faster towatch this lovely Eastern girl conquering the barbaric impulses thatsometimes flamed up within, her, because _I_ willed it; indeed this wasa miracle that I never tired of witnessing.
Mrs. Oram, the white-haired housekeeper, placed her arm in motherlyfashion about the girl's slim waist.
"She wants to stay in my room until the trouble is all over," she saidin her refined, sweet voice.
"You are very good, Mrs. Oram," I replied. "Take care of her."
One long, reassuring glance I gave Karamaneh, then turned andfollowed Smith and Sir Lionel up the winding oak stair. Kennedy cameclose behind me, carrying one of the acetylene head-lamps of the car.And--
"Just listen to the lioness, sir!" he whispered. "It's not thegathering storm that's making her so restless. Jungle beasts growquiet, as a rule, when there's thunder about."
The snarling of the great creature was plainly audible, distant thoughwe were from her cage.
"Through your room, Barton!" snapped Nayland Smith, when we gained thetop corridor.
He was his old, masterful self once more, and his voice was vibrantwith that suppressed excitement which I knew well. Into the disorderlysleeping apartment of the baronet we hurried, and Smith made for therecess near the bed which concealed a door in the paneling.
"Cautiously here!" cried Smith. "Follow immediately behind me, Kennedy,and throw the beam ahead. Hold the lamp well to the left."
In we filed, into that ancient passage which had figured in many ablack deed but had never served the ends of a more evil plotter thanthe awful Chinaman who so recently had rediscovered it.
Down we marched, and down, but not to the base of the tower, as I hadanticipated. At a point which I judged to be about level with thefirst floor of the house, Smith--who had been audibly counting thesteps--paused, and began to examine the seemingly unbroken masonryof the wall.
"We have to remember," he muttered, "that this passage may be blockedup or otherwise impassable, and that Fu-Manchu may know of anotherentrance. Furthermore, since the plan is lost, I have to rely uponmy memory for the exact position of the door."
He was feeling about in the crevices between the stone blocks of whichthe wall was constructed.
"Twenty-one steps," he muttered; "I feel certain."
Suddenly it seemed that his quest had proved successful.
"Ah!" he cried--"the ring!"
I saw that he had drawn out a large iron ring from some crevice inwhich it had been concealed.
"Stand back, Kennedy!" he warned.
Kennedy moved on to a lower step--as Smith, bringing all his weightto bear upon the ring, turned the huge stone slab upon its hiddenpivot, so that it fell back upon the stair with a reverberating boom.
We all pressed forward to peer into the black cavity. Kennedy movingthe light, a square well was revealed, not more than three feet across.Foot-holes were cut at intervals down the further side.
"H'm!" said Smith--"I was hardly prepared for this. The method ofdescent that occurs to me is to lean back against one side and trustone's weight entirely to the foot-holes on the other. A shaft appearedin the plan, I remember, but I had formed no theory respecting themeans provided for descending it. Tilt the lamp forward, Kennedy.Good! I can see the floor of the passage below; only about fifteenfeet or so down."
He stretched his foot across, placed it in the niche and began todescend.
"Kennedy next!" came his muffled voice, "with the lamp. Its light willenable you others to see the way."
Down went Kennedy without hesitation, the lamp swung from his rightarm.
"I will bring up the rear," said Sir Lionel Barton.
Whereupon I descended. I had climbed down about half-way when, frombelow, came a loud cry, a sound of scuffling, and a savage exclamationfrom Smith. Then----
"We're right, Petrie! This passage was recently used by Fu-Manchu!"
I gained the bottom of the well, and found myself standing in theentrance to an arched passage. Kennedy was directing the light of thelamp down upon the floor.
"You see, the door was guarded" said Nayland Smith.
"What!"
"Puff adder!" he snapped, and indicated a small snake whose head wascrushed beneath his heel.
Sir Lionel now joined us; and, a silent quartette, we stood staringfrom the dead reptile into the damp and evil-smelling tunnel. Adistant muttering and rumbling rolled, echoing awesomely along it.
"For Heaven's sake what was that, sir?" whispered Kennedy.
"It was the thunder," answered Nayland Smith. "The storm is breakingover the hills. Steady with the lamp, my man."
We had proceeded for some three hundred yards, and, according to mycalculation, were clear of the orchard of Graywater Park and close tothe fringe of trees beyond; I was taking note of the curious oldbrickwork of the passage, when--
"Look out, sir!" cried Kennedy--and the light began dancing madly."Just under your feet! Now it's up the wall!--mind your hand, Dr.Petrie!"
The lamp was turned, and, since it shone fully into my face,temporarily blinded me.
"On the roof over your head, Barton!"--this from Nayland Smith. "Whatcan we kill it with?"
Now my sight was restored to me, and looking back along the passage,I saw, clinging to an irregularity in the moldy wall, the mostgigantic scorpion I had ever set eyes upon! It was fully as large asmy open hand.
Kennedy and Nayland Smith were stealthily retracing their steps, theformer keeping the light directed upon the hideous insect, which nowbegan running about with that horrible, febrile activity characteristicof the species. Suddenly came a sharp, staccato report.... Sir Lionelhad scored a hit with his Browning pistol.
In waves of sound, the report went booming along the passage. The lamp,as I have said, was turned in order to shine back upon us, renderingthe tunnel ahead a mere black mouth--a veritable inferno, held byinhuman guards. Into that black cavern I stared, gloomily fascinatedby the onward rolling sound storm; into that blackness I looked ...to feel my scalp tingle horrifically, to know the crowning horror ofthe horrible journey.
The blackness was spangled with watching, diamond eyes!--with tinyinsect eyes that moved; upon the floor, upon the walls, upon theceiling! A choking cry rose to my lips.
"Smith! Barton! for God's sake, look! The place is _alive_ withscorpions!"
Around we all came, panic plucking at our hearts, around swept thebeam of the big
lamp; and there, retreating before the light, went averitable army of venomous creatures! I counted no fewer than three ofthe giant red centipedes whose poisonous touch, called "the zayat kiss,"is certain death; several species of scorpion were represented; andsome kind of bloated, unwieldy spider, so gross of body that its short,hairy legs could scarce support it, crawled, hideous, almost at my feet.
What other monstrosities of the insect kingdom were included in thatobscene host I know not; my skin tingled from head to feet; Iexperienced a sensation as if a million venomous things already clungto me--unclean things bred in the malarial jungles of Burma, in thecorpse-tainted mud of China's rivers, in the fever spots of thatdarkest East from which Fu-Manchu recruited his shadow army.
I was perilously near to losing my nerve when the crisp, incisivetones of Nayland Smith's voice came to stimulate me like a cold douche.
"This wanton sacrifice of horrors speaks eloquently of a forlorn hope!Sweep the walls with light, Kennedy; all those filthy things arenocturnal and they will retreat before us as we advance."
His words proved true. Occasioning a sort of _rustling_ sound--a faintsibilance indescribably loathsome--the creatures gray and black andred darted off along the passage. One by one, as we proceeded, theycrept into holes and crevices of the ancient walls, sometimes singly,sometimes in pairs--the pairs locked together in deadly embrace.
"They cannot live long in this cold atmosphere," cried Smith. "Many of them will kill one another--and we can safely leave the rest to theBritish climate. But see that none of them drops upon you in passing."
Thus we pursued our nightmare march, on through that valley of horror.Colder grew the atmosphere and colder. Again the thunder boomed outabove us, seeming to shake the roof of the tunnel fiercely, as withTitan hands. A sound of falling water, audible for some time, nowgrew so loud that conversation became difficult. All the insects haddisappeared.
"We are approaching the River Starn!" roared Sir Lionel. "Note the dipof the passage and the wet walls!"
"Note the type of brickwork!" shouted Smith.
Largely as a sedative to the feverish excitement which consumed me, Iforced myself to study the construction of the tunnel; and I becameaware of an astonishing circumstance. Partly the walls were natural,a narrow cavern traversing the bed of rock which upcropped on thisportion of the estate, but partly, if my scanty knowledge ofarchaeology did not betray me, they were _Phoenician!_
"This stretch of passage," came another roar from Sir Lionel, "datesback to Roman days or even earlier! By God! It's almost incredible!"
And now Smith and Kennedy, who lid, were up to their knees in arunning tide. An icy shower-bath drenched us from above; ahead was asolid wall of falling water. Again, and louder, nearer, boomed andrattled the thunder; its mighty voice was almost lost in the roar ofthat subterranean cataract. Nayland Smith, using his hands as amegaphone, cried;--
"Failing the evidence that others have passed this way, I should notdare to risk it! But the river is less than forty feet wide at thepoint below Monkswell; a dozen paces should see us through the worst!"
I attempted no reply. I will frankly admit that the prospect appalledme. But, bracing himself up as one does preparatory to a high dive,Smith, nodding to Kennedy to proceed, plunged into the cataract ahead....