The Hand of Fu-Manchu | Page 9

Hale's room and the supposed ayah whom I met downstairs are one and the same. Two,
at least, of the Yellow group are actually here in the New Louvre!"
The light of the shaded lamp shone down upon the brass coffer on the table beside me.
The fog seemed to have cleared from the room somewhat, but since in the midnight
stillness I could detect the muffled sounds of sirens from the river and the reports of fog
signals from the railways, I concluded that the night was not yet wholly clear of the
choking mist. In accordance with a pre-arranged scheme we had decided to guard "the
key of India" (whatever it might be) turn and turn about through the night. In a word--we
feared to sleep unguarded. Now my watch informed me that four o'clock approached, at
which hour I was to arouse Smith and retire to sleep to my own bedroom.

Nothing had disturbed my vigil--that is, nothing definite. True once, about half an hour
earlier, I had thought I heard the dragging and tapping sound from somewhere up above
me; but since the corridor overhead was unfinished and none of the rooms opening upon
it yet habitable, I concluded that I had been mistaken. The stairway at the end of our
corridor, which communicated with that above, was still blocked with bags of cement and
slabs of marble, in fact.
Faintly to my ears came the booming of London's clocks, beating out the hour of four.
But still I sat beside the mysterious coffer, indisposed to awaken my friend any sooner
than was necessary, particularly since I felt in no way sleepy myself.
I was to learn a lesson that night: the lesson of strict adherence to a compact. I had
arranged to awaken Nayland Smith at four; and because I dallied, determined to finish
my pipe ere entering his bedroom, almost it happened that Fate placed it beyond my
power ever to awaken him again.
At ten minutes past four, amid a stillness so intense that the creaking of my slippers
seemed a loud disturbance, I crossed the room and pushed open the door of Smith's
bedroom. It was in darkness, but as I entered I depressed the switch immediately inside
the door, lighting the lamp which swung form the center of the ceiling.
Glancing towards the bed, I immediately perceived that there was something different in
its aspect, but at first I found this difference difficult to define. I stood for a moment in
doubt. Then I realized the nature of the change which had taken place.
A lamp hung above the bed, attached to a movable fitting, which enabled it to be raised
or lowered at the pleasure of the occupant. When Smith had retired he was in no reading
mood, and he had not even lighted the reading-lamp, but had left it pushed high up
against the ceiling.
It was the position of this lamp which had changed. For now it swung so low over the
pillow that the silken fringe of the shade almost touched my friend's face as he lay
soundly asleep with one lean brown hand outstretched upon the coverlet.
I stood in the doorway staring, mystified, at this phenomenon; I might have stood there
without intervening, until intervention had been too late, were it not that, glancing
upward toward the wooden block from which ordinarily the pendant hung, I perceived
that no block was visible, but only a round, black cavity from which the white flex
supporting the lamp swung out.
Then, uttering a horse cry which rose unbidden to my lips, I sprang wildly across the
room ... for now I had seen something else!
Attached to one of the four silken tassels which ornamented the lamp-shade, so as almost
to rest upon the cheek of the sleeping man, was a little corymb of bloom ... the Flower of
Silence!
Grasping the shade with my left hand I seized the flex with my right, and as Smith sprang

upright in bed, eyes wildly glaring, I wrenched with all my might. Upward my gaze was
set; and I glimpsed a yellow hand, with long, pointed finger nails. There came a loud
resounding snap; an electric spark spat venomously from the circular opening above the
bed; and, with the cord and lamp still fast in my grip, I went rolling across the carpet--as
the other lamp became instantly extinguished.
Dimly I perceived Smith, arrayed in pyjamas, jumping out upon the opposite side of the
bed.
"Petrie, Petrie!" he cried, "where are you? what has happened?"
A laugh, little short of hysterical, escaped me. I gathered myself up and made for the
lighted sitting-room.
"Quick, Smith!" I said--but I did not recognize my own voice. "Quick-- come out of that
room."
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