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Page 55
"TONIGHT!" gasped John Keith.
He, too, leaped to his feet. His face was ghastly. And Kao, in his
silken gown, was sweeping his arms about him.
"See! The candles are lighted for her. They are waiting. And tonight,
when the town is asleep, she will come. AND IT IS YOU WHO WILL MAKE HER
COME, JOHN KEITH!"
Facing the devils in Kao's eyes, within striking distance of a creature
who was no longer a man but a monster, Keith marveled at the coolness
that held him back.
"Yes, it is you who will at last give her soul and her beautiful body
to me," he repeated. "Come. I will show you how--and why!"
He glided toward the dais. His hand touched a panel. It opened and in
the opening he turned about and waited for Keith.
"Come!" he said.
Keith, drawing a deep breath, his soul ready for the shock, his body
ready for action, followed him.
XXII
Into a narrow corridor, through a second door that seemed made of
padded wool, and then into a dimly lighted room John Keith followed
Kao, the Chinaman. Out of this room there was no other exit; it was
almost square, its ceiling was low, its walls darkly somber, and that
life was there Keith knew by the heaviness of cigarette smoke in the
air. For a moment his eyes did not discern the physical evidence of
that life. And then, staring at him out of the yellow glow, he saw a
face. It was a haunting, terrible face, a face heavy and deeply lined
by sagging flesh and with eyes sunken and staring. They were more than
staring. They greeted Keith like living coals. Under the face was a
human form, a big, fat, sagging form that leaned outward from its seat
in a chair.
Kao, bowing, sweeping his flowing raiment with his arms, said, "John
Keith, allow me to introduce you to Peter Kirkstone."
For the first time amazement, shock, came to Keith's lips in an audible
cry. He advanced a step. Yes, in that pitiable wreck of a man he
recognized Peter Kirkstone, the fat creature who had stood under the
picture of the Madonna that fateful night, Miriam Kirkstone's brother!
And as he stood, speechless, Kao said: "Peter Kirkstone, you know why I
have brought this man to you tonight. You know that he is not Derwent
Conniston. You know that he is John Keith, the murderer of your father.
Is it not so?"
The thick lips moved. The voice was husky--"Yes."
"He does not believe. So I have brought him that he may listen to you.
Peter Kirkstone, is it your desire that your sister, Miriam, give
herself to me, Prince Kao, tonight?"
Again the thick lips moved. This time Keith saw the effort. He
shuddered. He knew these questions and answers had been prepared. A
doomed man was speaking.
And the voice came, choking, "Yes."
"WHY?"
The terrible face of Peter Kirkstone seemed to contort. He looked at
Kao. And Kao's eyes were shining in that dull room like the eyes of a
snake.
"Because--it will save my life."
"And why will it save your life?"
Again that pause, again the sickly, choking effort. "Because--I HAVE
KILLED A MAN."
Bowing, smiling, rustling, Kao turned to the door. "That is all, Peter
Kirkstone. Good night. John Keith, will you follow me?"
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