At the moment that we did so I saw one of those long slender hands touch a switch, so that to the peculiar throbbing which I have already mentioned was added a new kind of vibration. Otherwise, no perceptible change took place. Standing there, tall, square-shouldered, challengingly. Dr. Fu Manchu watched us.
“At last,” cried Smith on a note of sudden excitement; “at last I hold the winning card!”
Dr. Fu Manchu continued to watch but did not speak. ‘The entire works are surrounded,” Smith went on. “Every exit covered, high and low, except the air. And you have missed your chance there.”
The green eyes became comtemplative. In that unnatural daylight I could see every change of expression upon the evily majestic face. Fu Manchu nodded his great head thoughtfully.
“You have acted with your accustomed promptness and efficiency,” he replied; but his voice, though even, was pitched on a high strident note. “Exactly what steps you have seen fit to take it is not my purpose to inquire. But I was expecting you, and you are welcome.”
There was something chilling in those words. “I was expecting you”—something which increased the effect which the presence of this man always had upon me. If he spoke the truth—why had he remained?
“Indeed?” said Smith, and I noted a change in his tone.
Although I never took my eyes from Dr. Fu Manchu, I was aware of the fact that other men were crowding in from the lobby.
“Order those men to cross the red line on the floor behind you,” Fu Manchu said harshly.
And at the very moment that he spoke I knew the worst. I turned and cried shrilly: “Stand where you are there, for your lives! Don’t cross the line. Smith!” I clutched his arm. “Do you understand what this means?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. The fire had gone from his grey eyes. “I understand.”
“An Ericksen screen,” that guttural voice continued, and now I detected a note of mockery, “has been thrown across the room some fifteen feet in front of me, and another behind you at the point marked by the red line on the floor. You are prisoners, gentlemen, in a cell from which no human power can rescue you, unless / choose to do so.”
“We’ll see about that,” growled Finlay, who had evidently just come into the lobby. “I don’t like the looks of you and I’m taking no chances.”
Followed three sharp, ear-splitting explosions. ButDr. Fu Manchu never stirred.
“Merciful heaven!” said Finlay hoarsely. “God help us! What is he—a man or a spirit?”
“Both, my friend,” the guttural voice assured him: “as you are.”
The effect of this seemingly supernatural demonstration upon the two men beside me was amazing. Plainly I saw them blanch, and for the first time they lowered their guns, peering into each other’s eyes. Then one turned to me, and: “What is if, mister?” he asked. “What is it? You seem to know.”
“Yes, I know, but I can’t possibly explain.”
“In your absence. Sir Denis,” Dr. Fu Manchu went on, ‘“Which I regretted, I chose Mr. Kerrigan as your deputy and gave him an opportunity of glancing over some of my resources. His unaccountable disappearance threatened to derange my plans. But his return in your company suggest to me that he may have acquainted you with these particulars.”
“He has,” Smith replied, tonelessly.
“In that case you are aware that as the result of many years of labour I am at last in a position to dictate to any and every government in the world. The hordes now overrunning Europe could not deter me for a week from any objective I might decide to seize. Their vaunted air force, or, if you prefer it, that of the Allies, I could destroy as readily as I could destroy a wasp’s nest. The methods pursued by the Nazis are a clumsy imitation of my own. I too have my Fifth Column, and it is composed exclusively of men who understand their business. Those, for I am not infallible, who seek to betray me are disposed of.”
He took up the jade snuff-box and delicately raised a pinch of snuff to his nostrils. He was not looking at us now but seemed to be thinking aloud.
“There is a peril threatening the United States which, although it might be defeated, would nevertheless create a maximim of disorder and shake the national unity. I charge you. Sir Denis, to dismiss from your mind your picture of myself as a common criminal. I am no more a criminal than was Napoleon, no more a criminal than Caesar.”
His voice was rising, quivering, and now his eyes were widely open. He was an imposing but an evil figure.
“Transmit the order to the agents and to the troops who have entered these premises to return to their posts outside, until further instructions reach them. Washington has sent you here and I wish you to put before Washington a proposal which I have drawn up, which I shall place in your hands whenever you ask me to do so. Knowing something of your prejudices, of your misconceptions, of your ignorance, I give you time to adjust your outlook. I can grant you one hour. Sir Denis. Word has reached me of a shipwreck which threatens to block my sea-gate. I shall go down to investigate the matter. When I return, no doubt you will have made up your mind. I leave Companion Doughty in your company. As it would be unwise to remove the Ericksen screen at present, you would be well advised to remain nearer the centre of the laboratory. Proximity to the screen is dangerous.”
CHAPTER XLI
AN ELECTRICAL DISTURBANCE
“Barton has done it!”
Smith spoke in a hoarse whisper. The two men of our bodyguard sat on a long bench, mopping their perspiring foreheads and glancing about them with profound apprehension. Dr. Marriot Doughty was seated on the other side of the room, and Finlay alone remained in the lobby beyond the red line. Smith had ordered the others to withdraw. The heat in the windowless laboratory was indescribable, and that “consciousness of cerebral pressure” created by Ericksen waves was all that I could endure.
“Yes, Barton has succeeded; but we are trapped.”
Although no reflection of lightning penetrated, apparently the great storm had not passed but had gathered again overhead. A crash of thunder came which rattled the glass instruments in their racks: the sound of it boomed and rolled and echoed weirdly above and about us. Marriot Doughty stood up and approached.
“If you will permit me to prescribe,” he said, “there are several masks of a kind we wear during Ericksen experiments. I can reach them without leaving the free zone.”
He crossed to a tall cabinet, opened a drawer and took out a number of headpieces resembling those used by radio operators.
“Can we trust him?” whispered Smith.
“Yes. He is thinking primarily of himself, I believe.”
Marriot Doughty distributed the headpieces.
“There are six,” he said, “but I fear that the gentleman in the lobby will have to go without one. The lobby, however, is partially insulated.”
We adjusted the thing; and that unendurable sense of inward pressure was immediately relieved.
“Anything like an hour’s exposure,” the physician explained, “might result in cerebral haemorrhage.”
Smith turned to him. With the headpiece framing his lean features, he suddenly reminded me of Horus, the hawk god.
“Dr. Doughty,” he said, “knowing nothing of the circumstances I am not entitled to question your principles; but may I ask some questions?”
“Certainly, and I shall be prepared to answer them.”
“Is there any means of disconnecting the Ericksen apparatus?”
“From our point of view, none. The controls are out of reach.”
“Is there any exit from this room other than that beyond the lobby or that at the other end used by Fu Manchu?”
“None.”