did Sir Crichton die?"
"He died of the Zayat Kiss. Ask me what that is and I reply 'I do not
know.' The zayats are the Burmese caravanserais, or rest-houses. Along
a certain route--upon which I set eyes, for the first and only time,
upon Dr. Fu-Manchu--travelers who use them sometimes die as Sir
Crichton died, with nothing to show the cause of death but a little
mark upon the neck, face, or limb, which has earned, in those parts,
the title of the 'Zayat Kiss.' The rest-houses along that route are
shunned now. I have my theory and I hope to prove it to-night, if I
live. It will be one more broken weapon in his fiendish armory, and it
is thus, and thus only, that I can hope to crush him. This was my
principal reason for not enlightening Dr. Cleeve. Even walls have ears
where Fu-Manchu is concerned, so I feigned ignorance of the meaning of
the mark, knowing that he would be almost certain to employ the same
methods upon some other victim. I wanted an opportunity to study the
Zayat Kiss in operation, and I shall have one."
"But the scented envelopes?"
"In the swampy forests of the district I have referred to a rare
species of orchid, almost green, and with a peculiar scent, is
sometimes met with. I recognized the heavy perfume at once. I take it
that the thing which kills the traveler is attracted by this orchid.
You will notice that the perfume clings to whatever it touches. I
doubt if it can be washed off in the ordinary way. After at least one
unsuccessful attempt to kill Sir Crichton--you recall that he thought
there was something concealed in his study on a previous
occasion?--Fu-Manchu hit upon the perfumed envelopes. He may have a
supply of these green orchids in his possession--possibly to feed the
creature."
"What creature? How could any kind of creature have got into Sir
Crichton's room tonight?"
"You no doubt observed that I examined the grate of the study. I found
a fair quantity of fallen soot. I at once assumed, since it appeared
to be the only means of entrance, that something has been dropped down;
and I took it for granted that the thing, whatever it was, must still
be concealed either in the study or in the library. But when I had
obtained the evidence of the groom, Wills, I perceived that the cry
from the lane or from the park was a signal. I noted that the
movements of anyone seated at the study table were visible, in shadow,
on the blind, and that the study occupied the corner of a two-storied
wing and, therefore, had a short chimney. What did the signal mean?
That Sir Crichton had leaped up from his chair, and either had received
the Zayat Kiss or had seen the thing which someone on the roof had
lowered down the straight chimney. It was the signal to withdraw that
deadly thing. By means of the iron stairway at the rear of
Major-General Platt-Houston's, I quite easily, gained access to the
roof above Sir Crichton's study--and I found this."
Out from his pocket Nayland Smith drew a tangled piece of silk, mixed
up with which were a brass ring and a number of unusually large-sized
split-shot, nipped on in the manner usual on a fishing-line.
"My theory proven," he resumed. "Not anticipating a search on the
roof, they had been careless. This was to weight the line and to
prevent the creature clinging to the walls of the chimney. Directly it
had dropped in the grate, however, by means of this ring I assume that
the weighted line was withdrawn, and the thing was only held by one
slender thread, which sufficed, though, to draw it back again when it
had done its work. It might have got tangled, of course, but they
reckoned on its making straight up the carved leg of the writing-table
for the prepared envelope. From there to the hand of Sir
Crichton--which, from having touched the envelope, would also be
scented with the perfume--was a certain move."
"My God! How horrible!" I exclaimed, and glanced apprehensively into
the dusky shadows of the room. "What is your theory respecting this
creature--what shape, what color--?"
"It is something that moves rapidly and silently. I will venture no
more at present, but I think it works in the dark. The study was dark,
remember, save for the bright patch beneath the reading-lamp. I have
observed that the rear of this house is ivy-covered right up to and
above your bedroom. Let us make ostentatious preparations to retire,
and I think we may rely upon Fu-Manchu's servants to attempt my
removal, at any rate--if not yours."
"But, my dear fellow, it is a climb of thirty-five feet at the very
least."
"You remember the cry in the back lane? It suggested something to me,
and I tested my idea--successfully. It was the cry of a dacoit. Oh,
dacoity, though quiescent, is by no means extinct. Fu-Manchu has
dacoits in his train, and probably it is one who operates the Zayat
Kiss, since it was a dacoit who watched the window of the study this
evening. To such a man an ivy-covered wall is a grand staircase."
The horrible events that followed are punctuated, in my mind, by the
striking of a distant clock. It is singular how trivialities thus
assert themselves in moments of high tension. I will proceed, then, by
these punctuations, to the coming of the horror that it was written we
should encounter.
The clock across the common struck two.
Having removed all traces of the scent of the orchid from our hands
with a solution of ammonia Smith and I had followed the programme laid
down. It was an easy matter to reach the rear of the house, by simply
climbing a fence, and we did not doubt that seeing the light go out in
the front, our unseen watcher would proceed to the back.
The room was a large one,