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Page 26
"Merciful Heaven!" I breathed. "Have I the strength?"
A desire for laughter claimed me with sudden, all but irresistible force.
I knew what it portended and fought it down--grimly, sternly.
My garments weighed upon me like a suit of mail; with my chest
aching dully, my veins throbbing to bursting, I forced tired
muscles to work, and, every stroke an agony, approached the beam.
Nearer I swam . . . nearer. Its shadow fell black upon
the water, which now had all the seeming of a pool of blood.
Confused sounds--a remote uproar--came to my ears.
I was nearly spent. . .I was in the shadow of the beam!
If I could throw up one arm. . .
A shrill scream sounded far above me!
"Petrie! Petrie!" (That voice must be Smith's!) "Don't touch the beam!
For God's sake DON'T TOUCH THE BEAM! Keep afloat another few seconds
and I can get to you!"
Another few seconds! Was that possible?
I managed to turn, to raise my throbbing head; and I saw the strangest
sight which that night yet had offered.
Nayland Smith stood upon the lowest iron rung . . . supported by the
hideous, crook-backed Chinaman, who stood upon the rung above!
"I can't reach him!"
It was as Smith hissed the words despairingly that I looked up--
and saw the Chinaman snatch at his coiled pigtail and pull it off!
With it came the wig to which it was attached; and the ghastly yellow mask,
deprived of its fastenings, fell from position! "Here! Here! Be quick!
Oh! be quick! You can lower this to him! Be quick! Be quick!"
A cloud of hair came falling about the slim shoulders
as the speaker bent to pass this strange lifeline to Smith;
and I think it was my wonder at knowing her for the girl whom
that day I had surprised in Cadby's rooms which saved my life.
For I not only kept afloat, but kept my gaze upturned to that beautiful,
flushed face, and my eyes fixed upon hers--which were wild with fear
. . .for me!
Smith, by some contortion, got the false queue into my grasp,
and I, with the strength of desperation, by that means seized
hold upon the lowest rung. With my friend's arm round me I
realized that exhaustion was even nearer than I had supposed.
My last distinct memory is of the bursting of the floor above
and the big burning joist hissing into the pool beneath us.
Its fiery passage, striated with light, disclosed two
sword blades, riveted, edges up along the top of the beam
which I had striven to reach.
"The severed fingers--" I said; and swooned.
How Smith got me through the trap I do not know--nor how we made our way
through the smoke and flames of the narrow passage it opened upon.
My next recollection is of sitting up, with my friend's arm supporting
me and Inspector Ryman holding a glass to my lips.
A bright glare dazzled my eyes. A crowd surged about us,
and a clangor and shouting drew momentarily nearer.
"It's the engines coming," explained Smith, seeing my bewilderment.
"Shen-Yan's is in flames. It was your shot, as you fell through the trap,
broke the oil-lamp."
"Is everybody out?"
"So far as we know."
"Fu-Manchu?"
Smith shrugged his shoulders.
"No one has seen him. There was some door at the back--"
"Do you think he may--"
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