The Hand of Fu-Manchu: Being a New Phase in the Activities of Fu-Manchu, the Devil DoctorRohmer, Sax
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The Hand of Fu-Manchu: Being a New Phase in the Activities of Fu-Manchu, the Devil Doctor
Rohmer, Sax
Detective and mystery stories; Fu Manchu, Doctor (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
A bell rang furiously, again and again sending its brazen clangor
echoing through the great apartments and passages of Graywater.
"There goes Kennedy."
Above the sibilant roaring of the rain I could hear some one releasing
heavy bolts and bars. The servants had long since retired, as also had
Kâramaneh; but Sir Lionel's man remained wakeful and alert.
Sir Lionel made for the door, and I, standing up, was about to follow
him, when Kennedy appeared, in his wake a bedraggled groom, hatless,
and pale to the lips. His frightened eyes looked from face to face.
"Dr. Petrie?" he gasped interrogatively.
"Yes!" I said, a sudden dread assailing me. "What is it?"
"Gad! it's Hamilton's man!" cried Barton.
"Mr. Nayland Smith, sir," continued the groom brokenly--and all my
fears were realized. "He's been attacked, sir, on the road from the
station, and Dr. Hamilton, to whose house he was carried----"
"Kennedy!" shouted Sir Lionel, "get the Rolls-Royce out! Put your
horse up here, my man, and come with us!"
He turned abruptly ... as the groom, grasping at the wall, fell
heavily to the floor.
"Good God!" I cried--"What's the matter with him?"
I bent over the prostrate man, making a rapid examination.
"His head! A nasty blow. Give me a hand, Sir Lionel; we must get him
on to a couch."
The unconscious man was laid upon a Chesterfield, and, ably assisted
by the explorer, who was used to coping with such hurts as this, I
attended to him as best I could. One of the men-servants had been
aroused, and, just as he appeared in the doorway, I had the
satisfaction of seeing Dr. Hamilton's groom open his eyes, and look
about him, dazedly.
"Quick," I said. "Tell me--what hurt you?"
The man raised his hand to his head and groaned feebly.
"Something came _whizzing_, sir," he answered. "There was no report,
and I saw nothing. I don't know what it can have been----"
"Where did this attack take place?"
"Between here and the village, sir; just by the coppice at the
cross-roads on top of Raddon Hill."
"You had better remain here for the present," I said, and gave a few
words of instruction to the man whom we had aroused.
"This way," cried Barton, who had rushed out of the room, his huge
frame reappearing in the door-way; "the car is ready."
My mind filled with dreadful apprehensions, I passed out on to the
carriage sweep. Sir Lionel was already at the wheel.
"Jump in, Kennedy," he said, when I had taken a seat beside him; and
the man sprang into the car.
Away we shot, up the narrow lane, lurched hard on the bend--and were
off at ever growing speed toward the hills, where a long climb
awaited the car.
The head-light picked out the straight road before us, and Barton
increased the pace, regardless of regulations, until the growing slope
made itself felt and the speed grew gradually less; above the
throbbing of the motor, I could hear, now, the rain in the
overhanging trees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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