ed.

"John often came home at half-past two from the Yard," continued
Weymouth; "so we naturally thought poor Mary was wandering in her mind.
But last night--and it's not to be wondered at--my wife couldn't sleep,
and she was wide awake at half-past two."

"Well?"

Nayland Smith was standing before him, alert, bright-eyed.

"She heard it, too!"

The sun was streaming into the cozy little sitting-room; but I will
confess that Weymouth's words chilled me uncannily. Karamaneh laid her
hand upon mine, in a quaint, childish fashion peculiarly her own. Her
hand was cold, but its touch thrilled me. For Karamaneh was not a
child, but a rarely beautiful girl--a pearl of the East such as many a
monarch has fought for.

"What then?" asked Smith.

"She was afraid to move--afraid to look from the window!"

My friend turned and stared hard at me.

"A subjective hallucination, Petrie?"

"In all probability," I replied. "You should arrange that your wife be
relieved in her trying duties, Mr. Weymouth. It is too great a strain
for an inexperienced nurse."

CHAPTER XXVIII

OF all that we had hoped for in our pursuit of Fu-Manchu how little had
we accomplished. Excepting Karamaneh and her brother (who were victims
and not creatures of the Chinese doctor's) not one of the formidable
group had fallen alive into our hands. Dreadful crimes had marked
Fu-Manchu's passage through the land. Not one-half of the truth (and
nothing of the later developments) had been made public. Nayland
Smith's authority was sufficient to control the press.

In the absence of such a veto a veritable panic must have seized upon
the entire country; for a monster--a thing more than humanly
evil--existed in our midst.

Always Fu-Manchu's secret activities had centered about the great
waterway. There was much of poetic justice in his end; for the Thames
had claimed him, who so long had used the stream as a highway for the
passage to and fro for his secret forces. Gone now were the yellow men
who had been the instruments of his evil will; gone was the giant
intellect which had controlled the complex murder machine. Karamaneh,
whose beauty he had used as a lure, at last was free, and no more with
her smile would tempt men to death--that her brother might live.

Many there are, I doubt not, who will regard the Eastern girl with
horror. I ask their forgiveness in that I regarded her quite
differently. No man having seen her could hav