f the first being discovered. Oh! I don't doubt it! The place
probably is extensive, and I am almost certain--though the point has
to be confirmed--that there is another entrance from the studio further
along the road. We know, now, why our recent searchings in the East End
have proved futile; why the house in Museum Street was deserted; he has
been lying low in this burrow at Hampstead!"

"But the hand, Smith, the luminous hand..."

Nayland Smith laughed shortly.

"Your superstitious fears overcame you to such an extent, Petrie--and I
don't wonder at it; the sight was a ghastly one--that probably you don't
remember what occurred when you struck out at that same ghostly hand?"

"I seemed to hit something."

"That was why we ran. But I think our retreat had all the appearance of
a rout, as I intended that it should. Pardon my playing upon your very
natural fears, old man, but you could not have simulated panic half so
naturally! And if they had suspected that the device was discovered,
we might never have quitted the Gables alive. It was touch-and-go for a
moment."

"But..."

"Turn out the light!" snapped my companion.

Wondering greatly, I did as he desired. I turned out the light... and
in the darkness of my own study I saw a fiery fist being shaken at me
threateningly!... The bones were distinctly visible, and the luminosity
of the flesh was truly ghastly.

"Turn on the light, again!" cried Smith.

Deeply mystified, I did so... and my friend tossed a little electric
pocket-lamp on to the writing-table.

"They used merely a small electric lamp fitted into the handle of a
glass dagger," he said with a sort of contempt. "It was very effective,
but the luminous hand is a phenomenon producible by any one who
possesses an electric torch."

"The Gables--will be watched?"

"At last, Petrie, I think we have Fu-Manchu--in his own trap!"

CHAPTER XXVII. THE NIGHT OF THE RAID

"Dash it all, Petrie!" cried Smith, "this is most annoying!"

The bell was ringing furiously, although midnight was long past. Whom
could my late visitor be? Almost certainly this ringing portended an
urgent case. In other words, I was not fated to take part in what I
anticipated would prove to be the closing scene of the Fu-Manchu drama.

"Every one is in bed," I said, ruefully; "and how can I possibly see a
patient--in this costume?"

Smith and I were both arrayed in rough tweeds, and anticipating the
labors before us, had dispe