LITMIR.BIZ

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suddenly turning upon her, "was in Burma up till quite recently. He murdered a fisherman thirty miles above Prome only a mouth before I left. The D.S.P. had placed a thousand rupees on his head. Am I right?"

      The girl shrugged her shoulders.

      "Suppose — What then?" she asked.

      "Suppose I handed you over to the police?" suggested Smith. But he spoke without conviction, for in the recent past we both had owed our lives to this girl.

      "As you please," she replied. "The police would learn nothing."

      "You do not belong to the Far East," my friend said abruptly. "You may have Eastern blood in your veins, but you are no kin of Fu-Manchu."

      "That is true," she admitted, and knocked the ash from her cigarette.

      "Will you tell me where to find Fu-Manchu?"

      She shrugged her shoulders again, glancing eloquently in my direction.

      Smith walked to the door.

      "I must make out my report, Petrie," he said. "Look after the prisoner."

      And as the door closed softly behind him I knew what was expected of me; but, honestly, I shirked my responsibility. What attitude should I adopt? How should I go about my delicate task? In a quandary, I stood watching the girl whom singular circumstances saw captive in my rooms.

      "You do not think we would harm you?" I began awkwardly. "No harm shall come to you. Why will you not trust us?"

      She raised her brilliant eyes.

      "Of what avail has your protection been to some of those others," she said; "those others whom HE has sought for?"

      Alas! it had been of none, and I knew it well. I thought I grasped the drift of her words.

      "You mean that if you speak, Fu-Manchu will find a way of killing you?"

      "Of killing ME!" she flashed scornfully. "Do I seem one to fear for myself?"

      "Then what do you fear?" I asked, in surprise.

      She looked at me oddly.

      "When I was seized and sold for a slave," she answered slowly, "my sister was taken, too, and my brother — a child." She spoke the word with a tender intonation, and her slight accent rendered it the more soft. "My sister died in the desert. My brother lived. Better, far better, that he had died, too."

      Her words impressed me intensely.

      "Of what are you speaking?" I questioned. "You speak of slave-raids, of the desert. Where did these things take place? Of what country are you?"

      "Does it matter?" she questioned in turn. "Of what country am I? A slave has no country, no name."

      "No name!" I cried.

      "You may call me Karamaneh," she said. "As Karamaneh I was sold to Dr. Fu-Manchu, and my brother also he purchased. We were cheap at the price he paid." She laughed shortly, wildly.

      "But he has spent a lot of money to educate me. My brother is all that is left to me in the world to love, and he is in the power of Dr. Fu-Manchu. You understand? It is upon him the blow will fall. You ask me to fight against Fu-Manchu. You talk of protection. Did your protection save Sir Crichton Davey?"

      I shook my head sadly.

      "You understand now why I cannot disobey my master's orders — why, if I would, I dare not betray him."

      I walked to the window and looked out. How could I answer her arguments? What could I say? I heard the rustle of her ragged skirts, and she who called herself Karamaneh stood beside me. She laid her hand upon my arm.

      "Let me go," she pleaded. "He will kill him! He will kill him!"

      Her voice shook with emotion.

      "He cannot revenge himself upon your brother when you are in no way to blame," I said angrily. "We arrested you; you are not here of your own free will."

      She drew her breath sharply, clutching at my arm, and in her eyes I could read that she was forcing her mind to some arduous decision.

      "Listen." She was speaking rapidly, nervously. "If I help you to take Dr. Fu-Manchu — tell you where he is to be found ALONE — will you promise me, solemnly promise me, that you will immediately go to the place where I shall guide you and release my brother; that you will let us both go free?"

      "I will," I said, without hesitation. "You may rest assured of it."

      "But there is a condition," she added.

      "What is it?"

      "When I have told you where to capture him you must release me."

      I hesitated. Smith often had accused me of weakness where this girl was concerned. What now was my plain duty? That she would utterly decline to speak under any circumstances unless it suited her to do so I felt assured. If she spoke the truth, in her proposed bargain there was no personal element; her conduct I now viewed in a new light. Humanity, I thought, dictated that I accept her proposal; policy also.

      "I agree," I said, and looked into her eyes, which were aflame now with emotion, an excitement perhaps of anticipation, perhaps of fear.

      She laid her hands upon my shoulders.

      "You will be careful?" she said pleadingly.

      "For your sake," I replied, "I shall."

      "Not for my sake."

      "Then for your brother's."

      "No." Her voice had sunk to a whisper. "For your own."

      CHAPTER XVII

       Table of Contents

      A COOL breeze met us, blowing from the lower reaches of the Thames. Far behind us twinkled the dim lights of Low's Cottages, the last regular habitations abutting upon the marshes. Between us and the cottages stretched half-a-mile of lush land through which at this season there were, however, numerous dry paths. Before us the flats again, a dull, monotonous expanse beneath the moon, with the promise of the cool breeze that the river flowed round the bend ahead. It was very quiet. Only the sound of our footsteps, as Nayland Smith and I tramped steadily towards our goal, broke the stillness of that lonely place.

      Not once but many times, within the last twenty minutes, I had thought that we were ill-advised to adventure alone upon the capture of the formidable Chinese doctor; but we were following out our compact with Karamaneh; and one of her stipulations had been that the police must not be acquainted with her share in the matter.

      A light came into view far ahead of us.

      "That's the light, Petrie," said Smith. "If we keep that straight before us, according to our information we shall strike the hulk."

      I grasped the revolver in my pocket, and the presence of the little weapon was curiously reassuring. I have endeavored, perhaps in extenuation of my own fears, to explain how about Dr. Fu-Manchu there rested an atmosphere of horror, peculiar, unique. He was not as other men. The dread that he inspired in all with whom he came in contact, the terrors which he controlled and hurled at whomsoever cumbered his path, rendered him an object supremely sinister. I despair of conveying to those who may read this account any but the coldest conception of the man's evil power.

      Smith stopped suddenly and grasped my arm. We stood listening. "What?" I asked.

      "You heard nothing?"

      I shook my head.

      Smith was peering back over the marshes in his oddly alert way. He turned to me, and his tanned face wore a peculiar expression.

      "You don't think it's a trap?" he jerked. "We are trusting her blindly."

      Strange it may seem, but something within me rose in arms against the innuendo.

      "I don't,"

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