Wong ducked his head, stepped into the narrow, V-shaped closet, reached up and opened a trap. A shaft of daylight appeared in the opening.
“Wait until I’m up, McKay,” Sir Denis directed. “Then follow on. Four eyes are better than two.”
He raised his arms, wedged his foot on a projection, and was gone. Tony followed—to find himself lying at the base of the curved roof, and only prevented from falling off by the curl of the highly decorated edge. Nayland Smith, on all fours, was already crawling along the ledge. Tony glanced over the side, and saw at a glance that they were no more than a few yards from the office and his own room below.
As this fact dawned upon him, Nayland Smith turned his head, looked back.
“I was right!” he cried. “Here’s what I was looking for!”
He held up a length of shiny thin rope. One end apparently was fastened to an ornament on the curling lip of the roof.
Tony turned cautiously and crawled back. He decided that the profession of steeplejack was not for him. He noted, when Sir Denis joined him, that he carried the coil of rope. But it was not until they were in Tony’s room that he explained what already was fairly clear. He held up the thin line.
“Note,” he rapped, “that it’s knotted at intervals. It’s a silk rope and strong as a cable. You saw that it was fastened to one of the gargoyles decorating the edge of the roof. A dacoit’s rope. I have seen many. At a pinch, it can serve the same purpose as a thug’s cord. His weight, as he first swung down to the window and then hauled himself up again, so tightened the knot that he couldn’t get it free. He dared not wait. He ran along the roof to the tulip tree—and broke his neck.”
Chapter XV
That night a counsel of war was held.
“Whatever information he may have,” Lao Tse-Mung stated, “The Master dare not take active steps against me. It is clear that we hold a document which is of vital import to him. This is my shield. Your presence. Sir Denis, requires no explanation, nor does that of Moon Flower. But you. Captain McKay, as a secret agent once under arrest, pose a problem.”
“I quite agree, sir,” Tony admitted.
“What are we going to do?” Moon Flower asked, her blue eyes anxious. “Even if Fu Manchu does not have you arrested. Sir Denis has told you that his awful servants, the Cold Men, can get in almost any night!”
Lao Tse-Mung smiled in his gentle way.
“For a few more nights, possibly. Moon Flower. And I have arranged a patrol of the walls which will make even this difficult. Then, advised by Sir Denis, and in conference with my engineers, I have prepared a surprise for invaders.”
“It boils down to this,” Nayland Smith rapped out: “We’re all three going to move—tonight! We meet at the house of the lama, Dr. Li Wu Chang, in Niu-fo-Tu. I could discard disguise and travel openly, as I’m entitled to do, taking Jeanie with me. Fu Manchu knows I’m in Szechuan, although I’m uncertain how he found out. It’s open warfare. But in view of all we have to do, this would be to play into Fu Manchu’s hands. He must be made to believe that I have returned to Hong Kong—Our good friend, Lao Tse-Mung, has undertaken this part of the scheme, and his private plane will leave for Hong Kong tonight.”
“But you won’t be on board?” Tony suggested.
“I shall be on my way to Niu-fo-Tu. I shall take over the part of the Burmese monk retiring to his monastery with a young disciple. Our host has provided me with suitable papers. Hang on to those you have. You, also, must travel as a Buddhist priest. You know your own story, your name and the name of your monastery. The travel permit for disciple I must have,7
“All clear.”
“We’ll set out together, in the old Ford, until I say ‘Beat it!’ Then you’ll beat it, and be on your own!”
“Agreed,” Tony said.
“Leave the details to me. Yours may be the harder part, McKay, but you’re used to the hard way. Jeanie insists on joining us, so let it go at that. We start at nine sharp . . .”
On a long, cane settee, outside the library, where flowering vines laced the terrace, and the gardens under a crescent moon looked like fairyland. Tony and Moon Flower continued the conference.
“Yueh Hua,” he whispered, “why must you come with us? God knows I always want you near me, but we’re up against enemies who stick at nothing. Dr. Fu Manchu uses strange methods. These Cold Men! Couldn’t you stay right here, where you’re safe, until a better time comes to join me?”
He could feel her heart beating against his own when she answered.
“No, Chi Foh. I know Sir Denis has some plan to release my father, and I may be part of it. I can’t be wrong, because otherwise I’m sure he would have told me to stay.”
Tony held her close. “When Sir Denis needs you he will send for you.”
“He needs me now, or he wouldn’t take me. Don’t worry about me, Chi Foh. It is you I’m worrying about! If we have to separate, and someone recognizes you as an escaped prisoner—”
“The odds are against it. I know enough about the game, now, to take care of myself. I have credentials, too, and I’ll get by.”
“Please heaven you do, my dearest.”
The rest of the conference had no bearing on the problem . . .
* * *
There was a fairly good road, as Chinese roads go, to Niu-fo-Tu, as Tony remembered. And when they set out, Nayland Smith driving, Moon Flower beside him, and Tony in the back, moonlight was adequate to prevent a driver from coming to grief on the many obstacles met with.
Nayland Smith was an expert driver, but his speed, on this unpredictable surface, might have alarmed a nervous passenger. There was no great distance to go, and he took bends with a confidence which showed that he meant to get there in the shortest possible time.
“I’m afraid, Jeanie,” Tony heard him say, “my many journeys in the old days with Scotland Yard’s Flying Squad have taught me bad manners!”
His remarkable driving got them intact to within sight of dim lights which indicated the market town of Niu-fo-Tu—of unhappy memory.
And suddenly these dim lights were reinforced by a red light!
“Beat it, McKay!” Nayland Smith rapped and slowed down. “Make a detour. You know something of the lay of the land. Head for Li Wu Chang’s back door. If picked up, do your stuff. Admit that’s where you’re going. You’re fellow Buddhists.”
Tony jumped out. He had a glimpse of Moon Flower looking back; then, he made his way to the roadside, tried to recall what he knew of the immediate neighborhood to place himself, and groped a way through a bamboo jungle to a spot where he could sit down.
He had a packet of cigarettes and a lighter in the pocket of his ungainly robe. He took them out, lighted a cigarette, and sat down to consider his next move.
Which side was the river? If he could mentally locate the spot where the sampan had been tied up, he could work out his route to that path which would lead him to the back door of the lama’s house.
From cover, he watched the Ford pass out of sight.
He was alone again. He must act alone.
A few minutes’ reflection convinced him that the Lu Ho river lay on his left. Then he must follow the road as close as possible to the outskirts of the town. As the road ran roughly east and west, on this side of Niu-fo-Tu he must bear north- westerly, if he could find a path, and this would bring him to the open country behind the lama’s house.
Without further delay, he returned to the road and started walking.
What was Nayland Smith’s plan? That he had one seemed evident, as he was re-entering the danger zone. Tony’s heart sank when he reflected that he had rescued Moon Flower from the clutches of Fu Manchu and that now she was venturing again into his reach. But how he loved her loyalty, her intrepid spirit, that glorious, fighting spirit, ready to defy even such an enemy as Dr. Fu Manchu.