CHAPTER VI. UNDER THE ELMS
Dusk found Nayland Smith and me at the top bedroom window. We knew, nowthat poor Forsyth's body had been properly examined, that he had diedfrom poisoning. Smith, declaring that I did not deserve his confidence,had refused to confide in me his theory of the origin of the peculiarmarks upon the body.
"On the soft ground under the trees," he said, "I found his tracks rightup to the point where something happened. There were no other freshtracks for several yards around. He was attacked as he stood close tothe trunk of one of the elms. Six or seven feet away I found some othertracks, very much like this."
He marked a series of dots upon the blotting pad at his elbow.
"Claws!" I cried. "That eerie call! like the call of a nighthawk--is itsome unknown species of--flying thing?"
"We shall see, shortly; possibly to-night," was his reply. "Since,probably owing to the absence of any moon, a mistake was made," his jawhardened at the thoughts of poor Forsyth--"another attempt along thesame lines will almost certainly follow--you know Fu-Manchu's system?"
So in the darkness, expectant, we sat watching the group of nine elms.To-night the moon was come, raising her Aladdin's lamp up to the starworld and summoning magic shadows into being. By midnight the highroadshowed deserted, the common was a place of mystery; and save for theperiodical passage of an electric car, in blazing modernity, this was afit enough stage for an eerie drama.
No notice of the tragedy had appeared in print; Nayland Smith was vestedwith powers to silence the press. No detectives, no special constables,were posted. My friend was of opinion that the publicity which hadbeen given to the deeds of Dr. Fu-Manchu in the past, together withthe sometimes clumsy co-operation of the police, had contributed not alittle to the Chinaman's success.
"There is only one thing to fear," he jerked suddenly; "he may not beready for another attempt to-night."
"Why?"
"Since he has only been in England for a short time, his menagerie ofvenomous things may be a limited one at present."
Earlier in the evening there had been a brief but violent thunderstorm,with a tropical downpour of rain, and now clouds were scudding acrossthe blue of the sky. Through a temporary rift in the veiling thecrescent of the moon looked down upon us. It had a greenish tint, and itset me thinking of the filmed, green eyes of Fu-Manchu.
The cloud passed and a lake of silver spread out to the edge of thecoppice, where it terminated at a shadow bank.
"There it is, Petrie!" hissed Nayland Smith.
A lambent light was born in the darkness; it rose slowly, unsteadily, toa great height, and died.
"It's under the trees, Smith!"
But he was already making for the door. Over his shoulder:
"Bring the pistol, Petrie!" he cried; "I have another. Give me at leasttwenty yards' start or no attempt may be made. But the instant I'm underthe trees, join me."
Out of the house we ran, and over onto the common, which latterly hadbeen a pageant ground for phantom warring. The light did not appearagain; and as Smith plunged off toward the trees, I wondered if he knewwhat uncanny thing was hidden there. I more than suspected that he hadsolved the mystery.
His instructions to keep well in the rear I understood. Fu-Manchu, orthe creature of Fu-Manchu, would attempt nothing in the presence of awitness. But we knew full well that the instrument of death which washidden in the elm coppice could do its ghastly work and leave no clue,could slay and vanish. For had not Forsyth come to a dreadful end whileSmith and I were within twenty yards of him?
Not a breeze stirred, as Smith, ahead of me--for I had slowed mypace--came up level with the first tree. The moon sailed clear of thestraggling cloud wisps which alone told of the recent storm; and I notedthat an irregular patch of light lay silvern on the moist ground underthe elms where otherwise lay shadow.
He passed on, slowly. I began to run again. Black against the silvernpatch, I saw him emerge--and look up.
"Be careful, Smith!" I cried--and I was racing under the trees to joinhim.
Uttering a loud cry, he leaped--away from the pool of light.
"Stand back, Petrie!" he screamed--"Back! further!"
He charged into me, shoulder lowered, and sent me reeling!
Mixed up with his excited cry I had heard a loud splintering andsweeping of branches overhead; and now as we staggered into the shadowsit seemed that one of the elms was reaching down to touch us! So, atleast, the phenomenon presented itself to my mind in that fleetingmoment while Smith, uttering his warning cry, was hurling me back.
Then the truth became apparent.
With an appalling crash, a huge bough fell from above. One piercing,awful shriek there was, a crackling of broken branches, and a chokinggroan...
The crack of Smith's pistol close beside me completed my confusion ofmind.
"Missed!" he yelled. "Shoot it, Petrie! On your left! For God's sakedon't miss it!"
I turned. A lithe black shape was streaking past me. Ifired--once--twice. Another frightful cry made yet more hideous thenocturne.
Nayland Smith was directing the ray of a pocket torch upon the fallenbough.
"Have you killed it, Petrie?" he cried.
"Yes, yes!"
I stood beside him, looking down. From the tangle of leaves and twigsan evil yellow face looked up at us. The features were contorted withagony, but the malignant eyes, wherein light was dying, regarded us withinflexible hatred. The man was pinned beneath the heavy bough; his backwas broken; and as we watched, he expired, frothing slightly at themouth, and quitted his tenement of clay, leaving those glassy eyes sethideously upon us.
"The pagan gods fight upon our side," said Smith strangely. "Elms have adangerous habit of shedding boughs in still weather--particularly aftera storm. Pan, god of the woods, with this one has performed Justice'swork of retribution."
"I don't understand. Where was this man--"
"Up the tree, lying along the bough which fell, Petrie! That is why heleft no footmarks. Last night no doubt he made his escape by swingingfrom bough to bough, ape fashion, and descending to the ground somewhereat the other side of the coppice."
He glanced at me.
"You are wondering, perhaps," he suggested, "what caused the mysteriouslight? I could have told you this morning, but I fear I was in a badtemper, Petrie. It's very simple: a length of tape soaked in spirit orsomething of the kind, and sheltered from the view of any one watchingfrom your windows, behind the trunk of the tree; then, the end ignited,lowered, still behind the tree, to the ground. The operator swinging itaround, the flame ascended, of course. I found the unburned fragment ofthe tape last night, a few yards from here."
I was peering down at Fu-Manchu's servant, the hideous yellow man wholay dead in a bower of elm leaves.
"He has some kind of leather bag beside him," I began--
"Exactly!" rapped Smith. "In that he carried his dangerous instrument ofdeath; from that he released it!"
"Released what?"
"What your fascinating friend came to recapture this morning."
"Don't taunt me, Smith!" I said bitterly. "Is it some species of bird?"
"You saw the marks on Forsyth's body, and I told you of those which Ihad traced upon the ground here. They were caused by claws, Petrie!"
"Claws! I thought so! But what claws?"
"The claws of a poisonous thing. I recaptured the one used last night,killed it--against my will--and buried it on the mound. I was afraid tothrow it in the pond, lest some juvenile fisherman should pull it outand sustain a scratch. I don't know how long the claws would remainvenomous."
"You are treating me like a child, Smith," I said slowly. "No doubt Iam hopelessly obtuse, but perhaps you will tell me what this Chinamancarried in a leather bag and released upon Forsyth. It was somethingwhich you recaptured, apparently with the aid of a plate of cold turbotand a jug of milk! It was something, also, which Karamaneh had been sentto recapture with the aid--"
I stopped.
/> "Go on," said Nayland Smith, turning the ray to the left, "what did shehave in the basket?"
"Valerian," I replied mechanically.
The ray rested upon the lithe creature that I had shot down.
It was a black cat!
"A cat will go through fire and water for valerian," said Smith; "but Igot first innings this morning with fish and milk! I had recognized theimprints under the trees for those of a cat, and I knew, that if a cathad been released here it would still be hiding in the neighborhood,probably in the bushes. I finally located a cat, sure enough, andcame for bait! I laid my trap, for the animal was too frightened to beapproachable, and then shot it; I had to. That yellow fiend used thelight as a decoy. The branch which killed him jutted out over the pathat a spot where an opening in the foliage above allowed some moon raysto penetrate. Directly the victim stood beneath, the Chinaman utteredhis bird cry; the one below looked up, and the cat, previously heldsilent and helpless in the leather sack, was dropped accurately upon hishead!"
"But"--I was growing confused.
Smith stooped lower.
"The cat's claws are sheathed now," he said; "but if you could examinethem you would find that they are coated with a shining black substance.Only Fu-Manchu knows what that substance is, Petrie, but you and I knowwhat it can do!"