Bat Wing by Sax Rohmer


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Page 56

Rather less than a minute elapsed, I suppose, when from some place at
the farther end of the hallway Mr. Camber appeared in person. He wore a
threadbare dressing gown, the silken collar and cuffs of which were
very badly frayed. His hair was dishevelled and palpably he had not
shaved this morning.

He was smoking a corncob pipe, and he slowly approached, glancing from
the card which he held in his hand in my direction, and then back again
at the card, with a curious sort of hesitancy. In spite of his untidy
appearance I could not fail to mark the dignity of his bearing, and the
almost arrogant angle at which he held his head.

"Mr--er--Malcolm Knox?" he began, fixing his large eyes upon me with a
look in which I could detect no sign of recognition. "I am advised that
you desire to see me?"

"That is so, Mr. Camber," I replied, cheerily. "I fear I have
interrupted your work, but as no other opportunity may occur of
renewing an acquaintance which for my part I found extremely pleasant--"

"Of renewing an acquaintance, you say, Mr. Knox?"

"Yes."

"Quite." He looked me up and down critically. "To be sure, we have met
before, I understand?"

"We met yesterday, Mr. Camber, you may recall. Having chanced to come
across a contribution of yours of the _Occult Review_, I have
availed myself of your invitation to drop in for a chat."

His expression changed immediately and the sombre eyes lighted up.

"Ah, of course," he cried, "you are a student of the transcendental.
Forgive my seeming rudeness, Mr. Knox, but indeed my memory is of the
poorest. Pray come in, sir; your visit is very welcome."

He held the door wide open, and inclined his head in a gesture of
curious old-world courtesy which was strange in so young a man. And
congratulating myself upon the happy thought which had enabled me to
win such instant favour, I presently found myself in a study which I
despair of describing.

In some respects it resembled the lumber room of an antiquary, whilst
in many particulars it corresponded to the interior of one of those
second-hand bookshops which abound in the neighbourhood of Charing
Cross Road. The shelves with which it was lined literally bulged with
books, and there were books on the floor, books on the mantelpiece, and
books, some open and some shut, some handsomely bound, and some having
the covers torn off, upon every table and nearly every chair in the
place.

Volume seven of Burton's monumental "Thousand Nights and a Night" lay
upon a littered desk before which I presumed Mr. Camber had been seated
at the time of my arrival. Some wet vessel, probably a cup of tea or
coffee, had at some time been set down upon the page at which this
volume was open, for it was marked with a dark brown ring. A volume of
Fraser's "Golden Bough" had been used as an ash tray, apparently, since
the binding was burned in several places where cigarettes had been laid
upon it.

In this interesting, indeed unique apartment, East met West, unabashed
by Kipling's dictum. Roman tear-vases and Egyptian tomb-offerings stood
upon the same shelf as empty Bass bottles; and a hideous wooden idol
from the South Sea Islands leered on eternally, unmoved by the presence
upon his distorted head of a soft felt hat made, I believe, in
Philadelphia.

Strange implements from early British barrows found themselves in the
company of _Thugee_ daggers There were carved mammals' tusks and
snake emblems from Yucatan; against a Chinese ivory model of the Temple
of Ten Thousand Buddhas rested a Coptic crucifix made from a twig of
the Holy Rose Tree. Across an ancient Spanish coffer was thrown a
Persian rug into which had been woven the monogram of Shah-Jehan and a
text from the Koran. It was easy to see that Mr. Colin Camber's studies
must have imposed a severe strain upon his purse.

"Sit down, Mr. Knox, sit down," he said, sweeping a vellum-bound volume
of Eliphas Levi from a chair, and pushing the chair forward. "The visit
of a fellow-student is a rare pleasure for me. And you find me, sir,"
he seated himself in a curious, carved chair which stood before the
desk, "you find me engaged upon enquiries, the result of which will
constitute chapter forty-two of my present book. Pray glance at the
contents of this little box."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 1st Dec 2025, 2:13