[Illustration] THE SLAYER OF SOULS ROBERT W. CHAMBERS AUTHOR OF “IN SECRET,” “THE COMMON LAW,” “THE RECKONING,” “LORRAINE,” ETC. NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY _Copyright, 1920, By Robert W. Chambers_ _Copyright, 1919, 1920, by International Magazine Company_ _Printed in the United States of America_ TO MY FRIEND GEORGE ARMSBY I Mirror of Fashion, Admiral of Finance, Don’t, in a passion, Denounce this poor Romance; For, while I dare not hope it might Enthuse you, Perhaps it will, some rainy night, Amuse you. II So, your attention, In poetry polite, To my invention I bashfully invite. Don’t hurl the book at Eddie’s head Deep laden, Or Messmore’s; you might hit instead Will Braden. III Kahn among Canners, And Grand Vizier of style, Emir of Manners, Accept—and place on file— This tribute, which I proffer while I grovel, And honor with thy matchless Smile My novel. R. W. C. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE YEZIDEE CHAPTER II. THE YELLOW SNAKE CHAPTER III. GREY MAGIC CHAPTER IV. BODY AND SOUL CHAPTER V. THE ASSASSINS CHAPTER VI. IN BATTLE CHAPTER VII. THE BRIDAL CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN IN WHITE CHAPTER IX. THE WEST WIND CHAPTER X. AT THE RITZ CHAPTER XI. YULUN THE BELOVED CHAPTER XII. HIS EXCELLENCY CHAPTER XIII. SA-N’SA CHAPTER XIV. A DEATH-TRAIL CHAPTER XV. IN THE FIRELIGHT CHAPTER XVI. THE PLACE OF PRAYER CHAPTER XVII. THE SLAYER OF SOULS THE SLAYER OF SOULS CHAPTER I THE YEZIDEE Only when the _Nan-yang Maru_ sailed from Yuen-San did her terrible sense of foreboding begin to subside. For four years, waking or sleeping, the awful subconsciousness of supreme evil had never left her. But now, as the Korean shore, receding into darkness, grew dimmer and dimmer, fear subsided and grew vague as the half-forgotten memory of horror in a dream. She stood near the steamer’s stern apart from other passengers, a slender, lonely figure in her silver-fox furs, her ulster and smart little hat, watching the lights of Yuen-San grow paler and smaller along the horizon until they looked like a level row of stars. Under her haunted eyes Asia was slowly dissolving to a streak of vapour in the misty lustre of the moon. Suddenly the ancient continent disappeared, washed out by a wave against the sky; and with it vanished the last shreds of that accursed nightmare which had possessed her for four endless years. But whether during those unreal years her soul had only been held in bondage, or whether, as she had been taught, it had been irrevocably destroyed, she still remained uncertain, knowing nothing about the death of souls or how it was accomplished. As she stood there, her sad eyes fixed on the misty East, a passenger passing—an Englishwoman—paused to say something kind to the young American; and added, “if there is anything my husband and I can do it would give us much pleasure.” The girl had turned her head as though not comprehending. The other woman hesitated.