Colonel Soong’s yellow face had assumed a grey tinge. “Most High, my troops have orders not to touch them—although some have done so. They report that these people are not human. They are dead men who have escaped from their tombs!”
“Fools!” Dr. Fu Manchu’s cold voice rose on a sudden note of frenzy. “I am doomed to be served by fools!” He clenched his hands, and by an obvious effort of will conquered his anger. “This man who calls himself Wu Chi Foh must be recaptured. You lost him. Find him. Colonel Soong—move. I shall accompany you . . .
Tony decided that his best course would be to pretend to believe Yueh Hua, so he asked, “Is Lung Chang far from Niu-fo-Tu?”
“About eight miles. We have to pass it. We used to come to this place sometimes, too. It is called Pool of Lily Dreams. Once it was part of the garden of a big house. But the house has gone. May I come and show you the way to Niu-fo-tu? I can row the boat when you want to rest.”
Her eagerness was pathetic. He nodded, and smiled for the first time.
“All right, Yueh Hua. “I’ll take you to Lung Chang.”
“Oh, thank you! You are very good.” And he read deep gratitude in the blue eyes. “Please—” as he was about to replace his washing kit—”may I—”
Tony handed her soap and comb. “The towel’s wet, but it’s the only one.”
Yeuh Hua grabbed them and jumped ashore. He saw her heading for a clump of alders where the bank sloped down to the pool.
He was hunting for some plausible explanation of how he had come by his canned provisions, when he heard her running back. Her hair was wet. And she was trying to fasten a ragged pajama jacket, which, with baggy trousers, made up her costume.
“Quick! We must be quick!”
She jumped on board with the agility of a wild goat, throwing down soap and towel.
“What’s the matter, Yueh Hua?”
“Coming along—now! A motor boat! It must be the police—for me! They think I stole your sampan!”
The widely opened eyes never wavered.
“Wait,” Tony said. “Don’t stir until I come back.”
Yueh Hua was right.
An old fourteen-foot motor craft was coming down. Colonel Soong stood up in the stern, sweeping the banks on either side through field-glasses.
Tony raced back. When he reached the boat he pulled up, staring. Yeuh Hua had cast off and stood at the oar, ready to leave.
“Be quick! I know a hiding-place. These people are new here. They may not find us.”
He climbed aboard and sat down watching her. He might as well let her have her way, for he had no plan of his own.
She swung the sampan about with an easy, deep sweep of the long oar. Then, using a minimum of effort, she headed straight across the pool, avoiding traps set by clumps of wild lilies, and drove straight in through a forest of rushes with a sudden powerful stroke. For a moment, he thought they were stranded. Then, using the oar like a punt pole, Yueh Hua got the boat free, and they were in a smaller pool, deep and clear, roofed over by the foliage of majestic old willows.
“That was very good, Yeuh Hua.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“Yes. An Army officer, with field-glasses.”
“Not—a tall, thin man, wearing a long cloak?”
Tony was startled, but hid the fact. “No. Short, wearing uniform. Are you afraid of this tall man?”
“Yes . . . Ssh! Sounds carry over the pool. They had stopped, but they are just turning in.”
And, as she spoke, the engine coughed into action again. Although he couldn’t see. Tony knew that the motor boat had entered the narrow opening, that Colonel Soong would be inspecting the banks of the pool. They lay down side by side, peering through the rushes.
A sudden protective impulse made him put his arm around Yueh Hua’s shoulders. He realized that she was still wet from her bath—hadn’t had time to use a towel. And she was trembling.
At last came Colonel Soong’s grating voice: “Nobody here. Back out.”
The motor craft went coughing out astern.
As the sound of the engine died away. Tony stood up, helping Yueh Hua to her feet. It was dark under the willows and he could hardly see her face.
“Thank you, Yueh Hua,” he said. “You are wet and will catch cold. Dry yourself. I won’t look.”
He ducked forward under the matting roof, turned his back, and lighted a cigarette.
His first ideas about Yueh Hua required an overhaul. Even Chinese duplicity couldn’t account for what had happened. She was as scared of Colonel Soong as he was himself—and desperately afraid of Dr. Fu Manchu. Her explanation that she might be suspected of stealing his boat didn’t add up, either. Agreed that she was running away, from whom was she running? Someone far more formidable than her stepfather. And there were other points . . .
“Please come out. I’m dry now.”
The bell voice recalled him from speculation. He went out to the stem. Yueh Hua had tidied up considerably. But he knew her clothing must be damp. She was smiling shyly.
“Do I look any better?”
He thought she looked very well indeed. There were few Mongolian characteristics. Prominent cheekbones and very slightly slanting eyes—yes. But many Celts had these. Now that her face was clean, he saw that she had a fresh, healthy complexion. In fact, he decided that Yueh Hua was quite pretty in a quaint way.
He planned to remain hidden where they were until the searchers returned and passed on the way up to Chia-Ting. Yueh Hua shook her head.
“When they don’t find the sampan anywhere we could have got to in this time, they will search again on the way back. Someone may tell them of this place. It was once used as duck decoy.”
Tony thought viciously of his .38, and wondered how many of the crew, beginning with Colonel Soong, he could knock off as they came into the decoy. But he dismissed the idea quickly.
We shall have to cross the river before they come back and hide in a creek I know there,” she continued.
“Is it used much?”
“No. It is too shallow.”
This program was a desperate venture. For, should the motor cruiser turn about sooner than anticipated, they could be trapped on the way over. He pointed out that Soong might search the creek.
“It is upstream. They will have searched it coming down.”
Tony grasped the long sweep and began to pole along the bank, edging the boat toward the opening through the rushes.
“Nearer the middle,” Yueh Hua directed. “Look—where the dragon-fly is.”
He gave a powerful thrust. The bow of the sampan was driven in some three feet, then progress was checked.
“Another push from this side—hard.”
He swung the oar over, found a firm spot, and thrust with all his weight. The boat glided along an unseen channel, and they were out again in the main part of the pool.
“Let me go ashore first and see if the river is clear,” Yueh Hua said.
Tony rowed in to the spot against which he had first tied up, and she leaped ashore lightly and ran off through the cactus lining the bank. He waited, listening. And as he listened, he heard voices singing some monotonous song, and faintly, the sound of a reed pipe.
Yueh Hua came running back.
“A big raft coming down! They may have been told to look out for us. We must wait until they pass.”
He nodded. But every minute’s delay might mean capture.