The Gloved Hand
Page 23
CHAPTER XXIII
DEADLY PERIL
There must be a providence which protects fools and madmen, for Ilanded in a heavy clump of shrubbery, and got to my feet with noinjury more serious than some scratches on hands and face, which atthe time I did not even feel. In a moment, I had found the path andwas speeding toward the house. Ahead of me flitted a dark shadow whichI knew to be Godfrey, and behind me came the pad-pad of heavy feet,which could only belong to Simmonds. And then, from the direction ofthe house, came the crash of broken glass.
I reached the lawn, crossed it, and traversed the short avenue whichended at the library door. Three men were there, and Simmonds camepanting up an instant later. The detectives had their torches in theirhands, and I saw that they had broken one of the glass panels of thedoors, and that one of them had passed a hand through the opening andwas fumbling about inside. There was a sharp click, and the hand cameback.
"There you are," he said, threw the door open, and stood aside forhis superior officer to lead the way.
"What's wrong?" Simmonds asked.
"I don't know--but the girl showed a light at her window."
"You heard nothing?"
"Not a sound."
Simmonds hesitated. No doubt the same thought occurred to him as tome; for the lawyer-Tartarin in me suggested that we scarcely hadwarrant to break our way into a sleeping house in the middle of the night.
But no such doubts seemed to disturb Godfrey. Without a word, hecaught the torch from Simmonds's hand, and passed through the doorway.Simmonds followed, I went next, and the two other men came last, theirtorches also flaring. Three beams of light flashed about the libraryand showed it to be empty. One of them--Godfrey's--lingered on thehigh-backed chair, but this time it had no occupant.
Then Godfrey switched on the light, passed into the hall and switchedon the light there. The hall, too, was empty, and only the ticking ofa tall clock disturbed the silence. I was faltering and ready to turnback, but, to my amazement, Godfrey crossed the hall at a bound andsprang up the stair, three steps at a time.
"Make all the noise you can!" he shouted over his shoulder, and theclatter of our feet seemed enough to wake the dead.
The upper hall was also empty; and then my heart gave a sudden leap,for the circle of light from Godfrey's torch had come to rest upon awhite-robed figure, which had stolen half-way down the stair from theupper story. It was the maid, holding her night-dress about her; andher face was as white as her gown.
Godfrey sprang to her side.
"What is it?" he asked. "What is wrong?"
"I heard a cry," gasped the girl. "Down here somewhere. And a scufflein the dark. A woman's cry. It was choked off short."
Godfrey leaped down among us, and, as the light of a torch flashedacross it, I saw that his face was livid.
"Who's got an extra gun?" he demanded, and one of the detectivespressed one into his hand. "Ready, now, men," he added, crossed thehall, threw open the outer door into Silva's room, and flung back thedrapery beyond.
My heart was in my throat as I peered over Godfrey's shoulder at whatlay within; and then a gasp of amazement from my companions mingledwith my own.
For the crystal sphere was glowing softly, and seated cross-legged onthe divan, his hands folded, his eyes fixed in meditation, was Silva.
We all stood for a moment staring at him, then Godfrey passed his handdazedly before his eyes.
"You two men stay on guard here," he said. "One of you keep your torchon this fellow, and the other keep his torch on the floor. There's acobra around somewhere."
An arc of light swept shakingly across the floor, as one of the menturned his torch toward it. But I saw no sign of Toto.
"Lester, you and Simmonds come with me," Godfrey added, stepped backinto the hall, and tapped at the door of Miss Vaughan's bedroom.
There was no response, and he tapped again. Then he tried the door,found it unlocked, and opened it. He sent a ray of light skimmingabout the room; then he found the switch, turned on the lights, andentered.
The room was empty, as were the dressing-room and bath-room adjoining.The covers of the bed had been turned back, ready for its occupant,but the bed was undisturbed.
Godfrey glanced about the room again, a sort of frenzied concentrationin his gaze, and then went out, leaving the lights burning. It tookbut a moment or two to look through the other suites. They were all empty.
"If Miss Vaughan was anywhere about, and unharmed," said Godfrey,"the noise we made would have brought her out to investigate. There'sonly one place she can be," and he led the way resolutely back to thedoor of Silva's room.
The yogi had not moved.
Godfrey contemplated him for a moment, with his torch full on thebearded face. Then he crossed the threshold, his torch sweeping thefloor in front of him.
"Let's see what the Thug is up to," he said, crossed the room, drewback the drapery, and opened the door into the little closet where wehad seen Mahbub once before.
There was a burst of acrid smoke into the room, and Godfrey steppedback with a stifled exclamation.
"Come here, you fellows!" he cried, and Simmonds and I sprang to his side.
For a moment I could see nothing; the rolling clouds of smoke blindedand choked me; I could feel the tears running down my cheeks and mythroat burned as though it had been scalded.
Then the smoke lifted a little, and I caught a glimpse of what laywithin the room.
In the middle of the floor stood an open brazier, with a thin yellowflame hovering above it, now bright, now dim, as the smoke whirledabout it. Before the brazier, sat Mahbub, his legs crossed with feetuppermost, his hands pressed palm to palm before his face.
"But he'll suffocate!" I gasped, and, indeed, I did not see how anyhuman being could breathe in such an atmosphere.
And then, as the smoke whirled aside again, I saw the snake. Its headwas waving slowly to and fro, its horrible hood distended, its yellow,lidless eyes fixed upon us.
Simmonds saw it too, and retreated a step.
"We'd better keep out of there," he gasped, "till that little pet'sput away in his basket."
But Godfrey seized his arm and dragged him back to the threshold ofthe door.
"Look, Simmonds," he cried, rubbing his dripping eyes fiercely, "thereagainst the wall?--is there something there--or is it just the smoke?"
I looked, too, but at first saw nothing, for a cloud of smoke rolleddown and blotted out the light from Godfrey's torch. Then it swirledaside, and against the farther wall I fancied I saw something--ashape, a huddled shape--grotesque--horrible, somehow....
I heard Godfrey's startled cry, saw his hand swing up, saw a tongue ofyellow flame leap from his revolver.
And with the echo of the shot, came a scream--a scream piercing,unearthly, of terror unspeakable....
I saw the Thug spring into the air, his face distorted, his mouthopen--I saw him tearing at something that swung from hisneck--something horrible, that clung and twisted....
He tore the thing loose--it was only an instant, really, but it seemedan age--and, still shrieking, flung it full at us.
I was paralysed with terror, incapable of movement, staringdumbly--but Godfrey swept me aside so sharply that I almost fell.
And that foul shape swished past us, fell with a thud, and was lost inthe darkness.