The Yellow Claw

by Sax Rohmer

  XXXIX

  THE LABYRINTH

  Feverishly, Max clutched at the last three books upon the shelfadjoining the gap. Of these, the center volume, a work bound in yellowcalf and bearing no title, proved to be irremovable; right and left itcould be inclined, but not moved outward. It masked the lever handle ofthe door!

  But that door was locked.

  Max, with upraised arms, swept the perspiration from his brows and eyes;he leant dizzily up against the door which defied him; his mind wasworking with febrile rapidity. He placed the pistol in his pocket,and, recrossing the room, mounted up again upon the shelves, and creptthrough into the apartment beyond, from which the yellow hand hadprotruded. He dropped, panting, upon the bed, then, eagerly leaping tothe door, grasped the handle.

  "Pardieu!" he muttered, "it is unlocked!"

  Though the light was still burning in this room, the corridor outsidewas in darkness. He pressed the button of the ingenious lamp which wasalso a watch, and made for the door communicating with the cave of thedragon. It was readily to be detected by reason of its visible handle;the other doors being externally indistinguishable from the rest of thematting-covered wall.

  The cave of the dragon proved to be empty, and in darkness. He ranacross its polished floor and opened at random the door immediatelyfacing him. A corridor similar to the one which he had just quittedwas revealed. Another door was visible at one end, and to this he ran,pulled it open, stepped through the opening, and found himself back inthe cave of the dragon!

  "Morbleu!" he muttered, "it is bewildering--this!"

  Yet another door, this time one of ebony, he opened; and yet anothermatting-lined corridor presented itself to his gaze. He swept it withthe ray of the little lamp, detected a door, opened it, and entered asimilar suite to those with which he already was familiar. It was empty,but, unlike the one which he himself had tenanted, this suite possessedtwo doors, the second opening out of the bathroom. To this he ran; itwas unlocked; he opened it, stepped ahead... and was back again in thecave of the dragon.

  "Mon dieu!" he cried, "this is Chinese--quite Chinese!"

  He stood looking about him, flashing the ray of light upon doors whichwere opened and upon openings in the walls where properly there shouldhave been no doors.

  "I am too late!" he muttered; "they had information of this and theyhave 'unloaded.' That they intend to fly the country is proven by theirleaving Mrs. Leroux behind. Ah, nom d'un nom, the good God grant thatthey have left also."...

  Coincident with his thoughts of her, the voice of Helen Cumberly reachedhis ears! He stood there quivering in every nerve, as: "Help!Help!" followed by a choking, inarticulate cry, came, muffled, fromsomewhere--he could not determine where.

  But the voice was the voice of Helen Cumberly. He raised his left fistand beat his brow as if to urge his brain to super-activity. Then,leaping, he was off.

  Door after door he threw open, crying, "Miss Cumberly! Miss Cumberly!Where are you? Have courage! Help is here!"

  But the silence remained unbroken--and always his wild search broughthim back to the accursed cave of the golden dragon. He began to growdizzy; he felt that his brain was bursting. For somewhere--somewhere buta few yards removed from him--a woman was in extreme peril!

  Clutching dizzily at the pedestal of the dragon, he cried at the top ofhis voice:--

  "Miss Cumberly! For the good God's sake answer me! Where are you?"

  "Here, M. Max!" he was answered; "the door on your right... and then toyour right again--quick! QUICK! Saints! she has killed me!"

  It was Gianapolis who spoke!

  Max hurled himself through the doorway indicated, falling up against thematting wall by reason of the impetus of his leap. He turned, leaped on,and one of the panels was slightly ajar; it was a masked door. Withinwas darkness out of which came the sounds of a great turmoil, as of wildbeasts in conflict.

  Max kicked the door fully open and flashed the ray of the torch into theroom. It poured its cold light upon a group which, like some masterpieceof classic statuary, was to remain etched indelibly upon his mind.

  Helen Cumberly lay, her head and shoulders pressed back upon the silkenpillows of the bed, with both hands clutching the wrist of the Eurasianand striving to wrench the latter's fingers from her throat, in thewhite skin of which they were bloodily embedded. With his left arm aboutthe face and head of the devilish half-caste, and grasping with hisright hand her slender right wrist--putting forth all his strength tohold it back--was Gianapolis!

  His face was of a grayish pallor and clammy with sweat; his crooked eyeshad the glare of madness. The lithe body of the Eurasian writhing in hisgrasp seemed to possess the strength of two strong men; for palpablythe Greek was weakening. His left sleeve was torn to shreds--to bloodyshreds beneath the teeth of the wild thing with which he fought; andlower, lower, always nearer to the throat of the victim, the slender,yellow arm forced itself, forced the tiny hand clutching a poniard nolarger than a hatpin but sharp as an adder's tooth.

  "Hold her!" whispered Gianapolis in a voice barely audible, as Max burstinto the room. "She came back for this and... I followed her. She hasthe strength of... a tigress!"

  Max hurled himself into the melee, grasping the wrist of the Eurasianbelow where it was clutched by Gianapolis. Nodding to the Greek torelease his hold, he twisted it smartly upward.

  The dagger fell upon the floor, and with an animal shriek of rage, theEurasian tottered back. Max caught her about the waist and tossed herunceremoniously into a corner of the room.

  Helen Cumberly slipped from the bed, and lay very white and still uponthe garish carpet, with four tiny red streams trickling from the nailpunctures in her throat. Max stooped and raised her shoulders; heglanced at the Greek, who, quivering in all his limbs, and on the vergeof collapse, only kept himself upright by dint of clutching at the sideof the doorway. Max realized that Gianapolis was past aiding him; hisown resources were nearly exhausted, but, stooping, he managed to liftthe girl and to carry her out into the corridor.

  "Follow me!" he gasped, glancing back at Gianapolis; "Morbleu, make aneffort! The keys--the keys!"

  Laying Helen Cumberly upon one of the raised divans, with her headresting upon a silken cushion, Max, teeth tightly clenched anddreadfully conscious that his strength was failing him, waited forGianapolis. Out from the corridor the Greek came staggering, and Max nowperceived that he was bleeding profusely from a wound in the breast.

  "She came back," whispered Gianapolis, clutching at the Frenchman forsupport... "the hellcat!... I did not know... that... Miss Cumberlywas here. As God is my witness I did not know! But I followed...HER--Mahara... thank God I did! She has finished me, I think, but"--helowered the crooked eyes to the form of Helen Cumberly--"never mind...Saints!"

  He reeled and sank upon his knees. He clutched at the edge of hiscoat and raised it to his lips, wherefrom blood was gushing forth. Maxstooped eagerly, for as the Greek had collapsed upon the floor, he hadheard the rattle of keys.

  "She had... the keys," whispered Gianapolis. "They have... tabs... uponthem... Mrs. Leroux... number 3 B. The door to the stair"--very, veryslowly, he inclined his head toward the ebony door near which Max wasstanding--"is marked X. The door... at the top--into garage... B."

  "Tell me," said Max, his arm about the dying man's shoulders--"try totell me: who killed Mrs. Vernon and why?"

  "MR. KING!" came in a rattling voice. "Because of the... carelessnessof someone... Mrs. Vernon wandered into the room ... of Mrs. Leroux. Sheseems to have had a fit of remorse... or something like it. She beggedMrs. Leroux to pull up... before... too late. Ho-Pin arrived just as shewas crying to ... Mrs. Leroux... and asking if she could ever forgiveher ... for bringing her here.... It was Mrs. Vernon who... introducedMrs.... Leroux. Ho-Pin heard her... say that she ... would tell...Leroux the truth... as the only means"...

  "Yes, yes, morbleu! I understand! And then?"

  "Ho-Pin knows... women... like a book. He thought Mrs. Vernon would...shirk the
scandal. We used to send our women ... to Nurse Proctor's,then... to steady up a bit... We let Mrs. Vernon go... as usual. Thescene with... Mrs. Leroux had shaken... her and she fainted... in thecar... Victoria Street.... I was with her. Nurse Proctor had... God!I am dying!... a time with her;... she got so hysterical that they hadto... detain her... and three days later... her husband died; Proctor,the... fool... somehow left a paper containing the news in Mrs. Vernon'sroom.... They had had to administer an injection that afternoon... andthey thought she was... sleeping."...

  "Morbleu! Yes, yes!--a supreme effort, my friend!"

  "Directly Ho-Pin heard of Vernon's death, he knew that his hold ... onMrs. Vernon... was lost.... He... and Mahara... and... MR. KING... drovestraight to... Gillingham... Street... to... arrange.... Ah!... sherushed like a mad woman into the street, a moment before... theyarrived. A cab was passing, and"...

  "I know this! I know this! What happened at Palace Mansions?"

  The Greek's voice grew fainter.

  "Mr. King followed... her... upstairs. Too late;... but whilst Lerouxwas in... Cumberly's flat... leaving door open ... Mr. King went...in... Mahara... was watching... gave signal... whistle... of someone'sapproach. It was thought... Mr. King... had secured ALL the message...Mrs. Vernon... was... writing.... Mr. King opened the door of ... thelift-shaft... lift not working... climbed down that way... and out bydoor on... ground floor... when Mr.... the Member of Parliament... wentupstairs."...

  "Ah! pardieu! one last word! WHO IS MR. KING?"

  Gianapolis lurched forward, his eyes glazing, half raised hisarm--pointing back into the cave of the dragon--and dropped, facedownward, on the floor, with a crimson pool forming slowly about hishead.

  An unfamiliar sound had begun to disturb the silence of the catacombs.Max glanced at the white face of Helen Cumberly, then directed the rayof the little lamp toward the further end of the apartment. A steadystream of dirty water was pouring into the cave of the dragon throughthe open door ahead of him.

  Into the disc of light, leaped, fantastic, the witch figure of theEurasian. She turned and faced him, threw up both her arms, and laughedshrilly, insanely. Then she turned and ran like a hare, her yellow silkdress gleaming in the moving ray. Inhaling sibilantly, Max leaped afterher. In three strides he found his foot splashing in water. An instanthe hesitated. Through the corridor ahead of him sped the yellow figure,and right to the end. The seemingly solid wall opened before her; it wasanother masked door.

  Max crossed the threshold hard upon her heels. Three descending stepswere ahead of him, and then a long brick tunnel in which swirled fullythree feet of water, which, slowly rising, was gradually flooding thecave of the dragon.

  On went the Eurasian, up to her waist in the flood, with Max gainingupon her, now, at every stride. There was a damp freshness in the airof the passage, and a sort of mist seemed to float above the water. Thismist had a familiar smell....

  They were approaching the river, and there was a fog to-night!

  Even as he realized the fact, the quarry vanished, and the ray of lightfrom Max's lamp impinged upon the opening in an iron sluice gate. TheEurasian had passed it, but Max realized that he must lower his head ifhe would follow. He ducked rapidly, almost touching the muddy water withhis face. A bank of yellow fog instantly enveloped him, and he pulled upshort, for, instinctively, he knew that another step might precipitatehim into the Thames.

  He strove to peer about him, but the feeble ray of the lamp wasincapable of penetrating the fog. He groped with his fingers, right andleft, and presently found slimy wooden steps. He drew himself closelyto these, and directed the light upon them. They led upward. He mountedcautiously, and was clear of the oily water, now, and upon a sort ofgangway above which lowered a green and rotting wooden roof.

  Obviously, the tide was rising; and, after seeking vainly to peerthrough the fog ahead, he turned and descended the steps again, findinghimself now nearly up to his armpits in water. He just managed to getin under the sluice gate without actually submerging his head, and toregain the brick tunnel.

  He paused for a moment, hoping to be able to lower the gate, but theapparatus was out of his reach, and he had nothing to stand upon to aidhim in manipulating it.

  Three or four inches of water now flooded the cave of the golden dragon.Max pulled the keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door at the footof the steps. He turned, resting the electric lamp upon one of thelittle ebony tables, and lifting Helen Cumberly, carried her half-way upthe steps, depositing her there with her back to the wall. He staggereddown again; his remarkable physical resources were at an end; it mustbe another's work to rescue Mrs. Leroux. He stooped over Gianapolis, andturned his head. The crooked eyes glared up at him deathly.

  "May the good God forgive you," he whispered. "You tried to make yourpeace with Him."

  The sound of muffled blows began to be audible from the head of thesteps. Max staggered out of the cave of the golden dragon. A slightfreshness and dampness was visible in its atmosphere, and the gentlegurgling of water broke its heavy stillness. There was a new qualitycome into it, and, strangely, an old quality gone out from it. As helifted the lamp from the table--now standing in slowly moving water--theplace seemed no longer to be the cave of the golden dragon he hadknown....

  He mounted the steps again, with difficulty, resting his shaking handsupon the walls. Shattering blows were being delivered upon the door,above.

  "Dunbar!" he cried feebly, stepping aside to avoid Helen Cumberly, whereshe lay. "Dunbar!"...