Sax Rohmer

“ Nayland Smith disappeared into the darkness. I rapidly followed. Last of all came our mysterious friend, a gold band about one of her ankles gleaming in the rays of the lantern which she carried. We stood in a low arched passage.
"Tie your handkerchiefs over your eyes and do exactly as I tell you!" she ordered.
Neither of us hesitated to obey her. Blindfolded, I allowed her to lead me, and Smith rested his hand upon my shoulder. In that order we proceeded, and came to stone steps, which we ascended.
"Keep to the wall on the left!" came a whisper. "There is danger on the right!" ”

“ Smith leaned back against the wall with assumed indifference.
"You have presumed." continued Fu-Manchu, "to meddle with a world change. Poor spiders—caught in the wheels of the inevitable! You have linked my name with the futility of the Young China movement—the name of Fu-Manchu! Mr. Smith, you are an incompetent meddler—I despise you! Dr. Petrie, you are a fool—I am sorry for you!"
He rested one bony hand on his hip, narrowing the long eyes as he looked down on us. The purposeful cruelty of the man was inherent; it was entirely untheatrical. Still Smith remained silent. ”

“ Fu-Manchu.
At last they were face to face—the head of the great yellow movement and the man who fought on behalf of the entire white race. How can I paint the individual who now stood before us-perhaps the greatest genius of modern times?
Of him it had been fitly said that he had a brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan. Something serpentine hypnotic, was in his very presence. Smith drew one sharp breath, and was silent. Together, chained to the wall, two medieval captives, living mockeries of our boasted modern security, we crouched before Dr. Fu-Manchu. ”

“ I whispered to Smith. "God help us, the man is a dangerous homicidal maniac!"
Nayland Smith's tanned face was very drawn, but he shook his head grimly.
"Dangerous, yes, I agree," he muttered; "his existence is a danger to the entire white race, which now we are powerless to avert!"
Dr. Fu-Manchu recovered himself, took up the lantern, and, turning abruptly, walked to the door, with his awkward yet feline gait. At the threshold he looked back.
"You would have warned Mr. Graham Guthrie?" he said in a soft voice. "To-night, at half-past twelve, Mr. Graham Guthrie dies." ”

“ I replied. "And our deaths will not profit you, incidentally, because—" Smith's foot touched mine.
"Because?" inquired Fu-Manchu softly. "Ah! Mr. Smith is so prudent! He is thinking that I have files!" He pronounced the word in a way that made me shudder. "Mr. Smith has seen a wire jacket! Have you ever seen a wire jacket, doctor? As a surgeon its functions would interest you!" ”

“ Therefore, we see at once what commended the system to Fu-Manchu!"
Graham Guthrie, very pale, stood looking down at the dead strangler.
"I owe you my life, Mr. Smith," he said. "If you had come five minutes later—"
He grasped Smith's hand.
"You see," Guthrie continued, "no one thought of looking for a thug in Burma. And no one thought of the roof! These fellows are as active as monkeys, and where an ordinary man would infallibly break his neck, they are entirely at home. I might have chosen my room specially for the business! ”

“ THE train was late, and as our cab turned out of Waterloo Station and began to ascend to the bridge, from a hundred steeples rang out the gongs of midnight, the bell of St. Paul's raised above them all to vie with the deep voice of Big Ben. ”

“ I groaned. "Can this be England!"
Smith laughed dryly, and I heard him fumbling with the steel collar about his neck.
"I have one great hope," he said, "since you share my captivity; but we must neglect no minor chance. Try with your pocketknife if you can force the lock. I am trying to break this one."
Truth to tell, the idea had not entered my half-dazed mind, but I immediately acted upon my friend's suggestion, setting to work with the small blade of my knife. I was so engaged, and, having snapped one blade, was about to open another, when a sound arrested me. ”

“ A group of these fiends would seem to have fled into Burma: so that the mysterious epidemic in Rangoon was really an outbreak of thuggee—on slightly improved lines! I had suspected something of the kind, but naturally I had not looked for thugs near Rangoon. My unexpected resistance led the strangler to bungle the rope. You have seen how it was fastened about my throat? That was unscientific. The true method, as practiced by the group operating in Burma, was to throw the line about the victim's neck and jerk him from the window. A man leaning from an open window is very nicely poised. ”

“ No. Fortunately for the reputation of the hotel, a first-class establishment, several similar cases occurred elsewhere, both in Rangoon, in Prome, and in Maulmain. A story got about the native quarter, and was fostered by some mad fakir, that the god Siva was reborn and that the cry was his call for victims ”