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Page 16
(At this moment I remembered that my bathroom window was open, and
that the waste-pipe passed down the exterior wall.)
"--the Sheikh-al-jebal took young boys of a certain desert tribe,
and for eight hours of every day, until their puberty, confined them
in a wooden frame--"
What looked like a reed was slowly inserted through the opening
between door and doorpost! It was brought gradually around
. . . until it pointed directly toward me!
I seemed to put forth a mighty mental effort, shaking off the icy
hand of fear which held me inactive in my chair. A saving instinct
warned me--and I ducked my head.
Something whirred past me and struck the wall behind.
Revolver in hand, I leapt across the room, dashed the door open,
and fired blindly--again--and again--and again--down the
passage.
And in the brief gleams I saw it!
I cannot call it man, but I saw the thing which, I doubt not, had
killed poor Deeping with the crescent-knife and had propelled a
poison-dart at me.
It was a tiny dwarf! Neither within nor without a freak exhibition
had I seen so small a human being! A kind of supernatural dread
gripped me by the throat at sight of it. As it turned with animal
activity and bounded into my bathroom, I caught a three-quarter
view of the creature's swollen, incredible head--which was nearly
as large as that of a normal man!
Never while my mind serves me can I forget that yellow, grinning
face and those canine fangs--the tigerish, blazing eyes--set in
the great, misshapen head upon the tiny, agile body.
Wildly, I fired again. I hurled myself forward and dashed into
the room.
Like nothing so much as a cat, the gleaming body (the dwarf was
but scantily clothed) streaked through the open window!
Certain death, I thought, must be his lot upon the stones of the
court far below. I ran and looked down, shaking in every limb,
my mind filled with a loathing terror unlike anything I had ever
known.
Brilliant moonlight flooded the pavement beneath; for twenty yards
to left and right every stone was visible.
The court was empty!
Human, homely London moved and wrought intimately about me; but
there, at sight of the empty court below, a great loneliness swept
down like a mantle--a clammy mantle of the fabric of dread. I
stood remote from my fellows, in an evil world peopled with the
creatures of Hassan of Aleppo.
Moved by some instinct, as that of a frightened child, I dropped
to my knees and buried my face in trembling hands.
CHAPTER VI
THE RING OF THE PROPHET
"There is no doubt," said Mr. Rawson, "that great personal danger
attaches to any contact with this relic. It is the first time I
have been concerned with anything of the kind."
Mr. Bristol, of Scotland Yard, standing stiffly military by the
window, looked across at the gray-haired solicitor. We were all
silent for a few moments.
"My late client's wishes," continued Mr. Rawson, "are explicit.
His last instructions, evidently written but a short time prior to
his death, advise me that the holy slipper of the Prophet is
contained in the locked safe at his house in Dulwich. He was
clearly of opinion that you, Mr. Cavanagh, would incur risk--great
risk--from your possession of the key. Since attempts have been
made upon you, murderous attempts, the late Professor Deeping, my
unfortunate client, evidently was not in error."
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