Chapter 13. The Blind Beggar
Who Rode
"He seemed a
beggar such as lags
Looking for crusts and
ale."
- Chesterton
The cold gray dawn was stealing over the river as
we stood in the deserted bar of the Temple of Dreams. Gordon was questioning
the two men who had remained on guard outside the building while their unfortunate
companion went in to explore the tunnel.
"As soon as
we heard the whistle, sir, Leary and Murken rushed the bar and broke into the
opium room, while we waited here at the bar door according to orders. Right
away several ragged dopers came tumbling out and we grabbed them. But no one
else came out and we heard nothing from Leary and Murken; so we just waited
until you came, sir."
"You saw
nothing of a giant Negro, or of the Chinaman Yun Shatu?"
"No, sir.
After a while the patrolmen arrived and we threw a cordon around the house, but
no one was seen."
Gordon shrugged
his shoulders; a few cursory questions had satisfied him that the captives were
harmless addicts and he had them released.
"You are
sure no one else came out?"
"Yes, sir - no,
wait a moment. A wretched old blind beggar did come out, all rags and dirt and
with a ragged girl leading him. We stopped him but didn't hold him - a wretch
like that couldn't be harmful."
"No?"
Gordon jerked out. "Which way did he go?"
"The girl
led him down the street to the next block and then an automobile stopped and
they got in and drove off, sir."
Gordon glared at
him.
"The
stupidity of the London detective has rightfully become an international
jest," he said acidly. "No doubt it never occurred to you as being
strange that a Limehouse beggar should ride about in his own automobile."
Then impatiently
waving aside the man, who sought to speak further, he turned to me and I saw
the lines of weariness beneath his eyes.
"Mr.
Costigan, if you will come to my apartment we may be able to clear up some new
things."
Chapter 14. The Black Empire
"Oh the new spears
dipped in life-blood as the woman shrieked in vain!
Oh the days before the
English! When will those days come again?"
--Mundy
Gordon struck a match and absently allowed it to
flicker and go out in his hand. His Turkish cigarette hung unlighted between
his fingers.
"This is the
most logical conclusion to be reached," he was saying. "The weak link
in our chain was lack of men. But curse it, one cannot round up an army at two
o'clock in the morning, even with the aid of Scotland Yard. I went on to
Limehouse, leaving orders for a number of patrolmen to follow me as quickly as
they could be got together, and to throw a cordon about the house.
"They
arrived too late to prevent the Master's servants slipping out of the side
doors and windows, no doubt, as they could easily do with only Finnegan and
Hansen on guard at the front of the building. However, they arrived in time to
prevent the Master himself from slipping out in that way - no doubt he lingered
to effect his disguise and was caught in that manner. He owes his escape to his
craft and boldness and to the carelessness of Finnegan and Hansen. The girl who
accompanied him--"
"She was
Zuleika, without doubt."
I answered
listlessly, wondering anew what shackles bound her to the Egyptian sorcerer.
"You owe
your life to her," Gordon rapped, lighting another match. "We were
standing in the shadows in front of the warehouse, waiting for the hour to
strike, and of course ignorant as to what was going on in the house, when a
girl appeared at one of the barred windows and begged us for God's sake to do
something, that a man was being murdered. So we broke in at once. However, she
was not to be seen when we entered."
"She
returned to the room, no doubt," I muttered, "and was forced to
accompany the Master. God grant he knows nothing of her trickery."
"I do not
know," said Gordon, dropping the charred match stem, "whether she
guessed at our true identity or whether she just made the appeal in
desperation.
"However,
the main point is this: evidence points to the fact that, on hearing the
whistle, Leary and Murken invaded Yun Shatu's from the front at the same
instant my three men and I made our attack on the warehouse front. As it took
us some seconds to batter down the door, it is logical to suppose that they
found the secret door and entered the tunnel before we affected an entrance
into the warehouse.
"The Master,
knowing our plans beforehand, and being aware that an invasion would be made
through the tunnel and having long ago made preparations for such an exigency -"
An involuntary
shudder shook me.
"- the
Master worked the lever that opened the chest--the screams you heard as you lay
upon the altar were the death shrieks of Leary and Murken. Then, leaving the
Chinaman behind to finish you, the Master and the rest descended into the
tunnel--incredible as it seems - and threading their way unharmed among the
serpents, entered Yun Shatu's house and escaped therefrom as I have said."
"That seems
impossible. Why should not the snakes turn on them?"
Gordon finally
ignited his cigarette and puffed a few seconds before replying.
"The
reptiles might still have been giving their full and hideous attention to the
dying men, or else - I have on previous occasions been confronted with
indisputable proof of the Master's dominance over beasts and reptiles of even
the lowest or most dangerous orders. How he and his slaves passed unhurt among
those scaly fiends must remain, at present, one of the many unsolved mysteries
pertaining to that strange man."
I stirred
restlessly in my chair. This brought up a point for the purpose of clearing up
which I had come to Gordon's neat but bizarre apartments.
"You have
not yet told me," I said abruptly, "who this man is and what is his
mission."
"As to who
he is, I can only say that he is known as you name him - the Master. I have
never seen him unmasked, nor do I know his real name nor his nationality."
"I can
enlighten you to an extent there," I broke in. "I have seen him unmasked
and have heard the name his slaves call him."
Gordon's eyes
blazed and he leaned forward.
"His
name," I continued, "is Kathulos and he claims to be an Egyptian."
"Kathulos!"
Gordon repeated. "You say he claims to be an Egyptian - have you any reason
for doubting his claim of that nationality?"
"He may be
of Egypt," I answered slowly, "but he is different, somehow, from any
human I ever saw or hope to see. Great age might account for some of his
peculiarities, but there are certain lineal differences that my anthropological
studies tell me have been present since birth - features which would be
abnormal to any other man but which are perfectly normal in Kathulos. That
sounds paradoxical, I admit, but to appreciate fully the horrid inhumanness of
the man, you would have to see him yourself."
Gordon sat at
attention while I swiftly sketched the appearance of the Egyptian as I
remembered him--and that appearance was indelibly etched on my brain forever.
As I finished he
nodded.
"As I have
said, I never saw Kathulos except when disguised as a beggar, a leper or some
such thing - when he was fairly swathed in rags. Still, I too have been
impressed with a strange difference about him--something that is not present in
other men."
Gordon tapped his
knee with his fingers - a habit of his when deeply engrossed by a problem of
some sort.
"You have
asked as to the mission of this man," he began slowly. "I will tell
you all I know."
"My position
with the British government is a unique and peculiar one. I hold what might be
called a roving commission - an office created solely for the purpose of
suiting my special needs. As a secret service official during the war, I
convinced the powers of a need of such office and of my ability to fill it.
"Somewhat
over seventeen months ago I was sent to South Africa to investigate the unrest
which has been growing among the natives of the interior ever since the World
War and which has of late assumed alarming proportions. There I first got on
the track of this man Kathulos. I found, in roundabout ways, that Africa was a
seething cauldron of rebellion from Morocco to Cape Town. The old, old vow had been
made again - the Negroes and the Mohammedans, banded together, should drive the
white men into the sea.
"This pact
has been made before but always, hitherto, broken. Now, however, I sensed a
giant intellect and a monstrous genius behind the veil, a genius powerful
enough to accomplish this union and hold it together. Working entirely on hints
and vague whispered clues, I followed the trail up through Central Africa and
into Egypt. There, at last, I came upon definite evidence that such a man
existed. The whispers hinted of a living dead man - a _skull-faced_ man. I
learned that this man was the high priest of the mysterious Scorpion society of
northern Africa. He was spoken of variously as Skull-face, the Master, and the
Scorpion.
"Following a
trail of bribed officials and filched state secrets, I at last trailed him to
Alexandria, where I had my first sight of him in a dive in the native quarter -
disguised as a leper. I heard him distinctly addressed as 'Mighty Scorpion' by
the natives, but he escaped me.
"All trace
vanished then; the trail ran out entirely until rumors of strange happenings in
London reached me and I came back to England to investigate an apparent leak in
the war office.
"As I
thought, the Scorpion had preceded me. This man, whose education and craft
transcend anything I ever met with, is simply the leader and instigator of a
world-wide movement such as the world has never seen before. He plots, in a
word, the overthrow of the white races!
"His
ultimate aim is a black empire, with himself as emperor of the world! And to
that end he has banded together in one monstrous conspiracy the black, the
brown and the yellow."
"I
understand now what Yussef Ali meant when he said 'the days of the
empire,'" I muttered.
"Exactly,"
Gordon rapped with suppressed excitement. "Kathulos' power is unlimited
and unguessed. Like an octopus his tentacles stretch to the high places of
civilization and the far corners of the world. And his main weapon is--dope! He
has flooded Europe and no doubt America with opium and hashish, and in spite of
all efforts it has been impossible to discover the break in the barriers
through which the hellish stuff is coming. With this he ensnares and enslaves men
and women.
"You have
told me of the aristocratic men and women you saw coming to Yun Shatu's dive.
Without doubt they were dope addicts - for, as I said, the habit lurks in high
places - holders of governmental positions, no doubt, coming to trade for the
stuff they craved and giving in return state secrets, inside information and
promise of protection for the Master's crimes.
"Oh, he does
not work haphazardly! Before ever the black flood breaks, he will be prepared;
if he has his way, the governments of the white races will be honeycombs of
corruption - the strongest men of the white races will be dead. The white men's
secrets of war will be his. When it comes, I look for a simultaneous uprising
against white supremacy, of all the colored races - races who, in the last war,
learned the white men's ways of battle, and who, led by such a man as Kathulos
and armed with white men's finest weapons, will be almost invincible.
"A steady
stream of rifles and ammunition has been pouring into East Africa and it was
not until I discovered the source that it was stopped. I found that a staid and
reliable Scotch firm was smuggling these arms among the natives and I found
more: the manager of this firm was an opium slave. That was enough. I saw
Kathulos' hand in the matter. The manager was arrested and committed suicide in
his cell - that is only one of the many situations with which I am called upon
to
deal.
"Again, the
case of Major Fairlan Morley. He, like myself, held a very flexible commission
and had been sent to the Transvaal to work upon the same case. He sent to
London a number of secret papers for safekeeping. They arrived some weeks ago
and were put in a bank vault. The letter accompanying them gave explicit
instructions that they were to be delivered to no one but the major himself,
when he called for them in person, or in event of his death, to myself.
"As soon as
I learned that he had sailed from Africa I sent trusted men to Bordeaux, where
he intended to make his first landing in Europe. They did not succeed in saving
the major's life, but they certified his death, for they found his body in a
deserted ship whose hulk was stranded on the beach. Efforts were made to keep
the affair a secret but somehow it leaked into the papers with the result -"
"I begin to
understand why I was to impersonate the unfortunate major," I interrupted.
"Exactly. A
false beard furnished you, and your black hair dyed blond, you would have
presented yourself at the bank, received the papers from the banker, who knew
Major Morley just intimately enough to be deceived by your appearance, and the
papers would have then fallen into the hands of the Master.
"I can only
guess at the contents of those papers, for events have been taking place too
swiftly for me to call for and obtain them. But they must deal with subjects
closely connected with the activities of Kathulos. How he learned of them and
of the provisions of the letter accompanying them, I have no idea, but as I
said, London is honeycombed with his spies.
"In my
search for clues, I often frequented Limehouse disguised as you first saw me. I
went often to the Temple of Dreams and even once managed to enter the back
room, for I suspected some sort of rendezvous in the rear of the building. The
absence of any exit baffled me and I had no time to search for secret doors
before I was ejected by the giant black man, Hassim, who had no suspicion of my
true identity. I noticed that very often the leper entered or left Yun Shatu's,
and finally it was borne on me that past a shadow of doubt this supposed leper
was the Scorpion himself.
"That night
you discovered me on the couch in the opium room, I had come there with no
especial plan in mind. Seeing Kathulos leaving, I determined to rise and follow
him, but you spoiled that."
He fingered his
chin and laughed grimly.
"I was an
amateur boxing champion in Oxford," said he, "but Tom Cribb himself
could not have withstood that blow - or have dealt it."
"I regret it
as I regret few things."
"No need to
apologize. You saved my life immediately afterward—I was stunned, but not too
much to know that that brown devil Yussef Ali was burning to cut out my
heart."
"How did you
come to be at Sir Haldred Frenton's estate? And how is it that you did not raid
Yun Shatu's dive?"
"I did not
have the place raided because I knew somehow Kathulos would be warned and our
efforts would come to naught. I was at Sir Haldred's that night because I have
contrived to spend at least part of each night with him since he returned from
the Congo. I anticipated an attempt upon his life when I learned from his own
lips that he was preparing, from the studies he made on this trip, a treatise
on the secret native societies of West Africa. He hinted that the disclosures he
intended to make therein might prove sensational, to say the least. Since it is
to Kathulos' advantage to destroy such men as might be able to arouse the
Western world to its danger, I knew that Sir Haldred was a marked man. Indeed,
two distinct attempts were made upon his life on his journey to the coast from
the African interior. So I put two trusted men on guard and they are at their
post even now.
"Roaming
about the darkened house, I heard the noise of your entry, and, warning my men,
I stole down to intercept you. At the time of our conversation, Sir Haldred was
sitting in his unlighted study, a Scotland Yard man with drawn pistol on each
side of him. Their vigilance no doubt accounts for Yussef Ali's failure to
attempt what you were sent to do.
"Something
in your manner convinced me in spite of yourself," he meditated. "I
will admit I had some bad moments of doubt as I waited in the darkness that
precedes dawn, outside the warehouse."
Gordon rose
suddenly and going to a strong box which stood in a corner of the room, drew
thence a thick envelope.
"Although
Kathulos has checkmated me at almost every move," he said, "I have
not been entirely idle. Noting the frequenters of Yun Shatu's, I have compiled
a partial list of the Egyptian's right-hand men, and their records. What you
have told me has enabled me to complete that list. As we know, his henchmen are
scattered all over the world, and there are possibly hundreds of them here in
London. However, this is a list of those I believe to be in his closest council,
now with him in England. He told you himself that few even of his followers
ever saw him unmasked."
We bent together
over the list, which contained the following names: "Yun Shatu, Hongkong
Chinese, suspected opium smuggler—keeper of Temple of Dreams - resident of
Limehouse seven years. Hassim, ex-Senegalese Chief - wanted in French Congo for
murder. Santiago, Negro - fled from Haiti under suspicion of voodoo worship
atrocities. Yar Khan, Afridi, record unknown. Yussef Ali, Moor, slave-dealer in
Morocco - suspected of being a German spy in the World War—an instigator of the
Fellaheen Rebellion on the upper Nile. Ganra Singh, Lahore, India, Sikh - smuggler
of arms into Afghanistan - took an active part in the Lahore and Delhi riots - suspected
of murder on two occasions - a dangerous man. Stephen Costigan, American - resident
in England since the war - hashish addict - man of remarkable strength. Li Kung,
northern China, opium smuggler."
Lines were drawn
significantly through three names - mine, Li Kung's and Yussef Ali's. Nothing
was written next to mine, but following Li Kung's name was scrawled briefly in
Gordon's rambling characters: "Shot by John Gordon during the raid on Yun
Shatu's." And following the name of Yussef Ali: "Killed by Stephen
Costigan during the Yun Shatu raid."
I laughed
mirthlessly. Black empire or not, Yussef Ali would never hold Zuleika in his
arms, for he had never risen from where I felled him.
"I know
not," said Gordon somberly as he folded the list and replaced it in the
envelope, "what power Kathulos has that draws together black men and
yellow men to serve him - that unites world-old foes. Hindu, Moslem and pagan
are among his followers. And back in the mists of the East where mysterious and
gigantic forces are at work, this uniting is culminating on a monstrous
scale."
He glanced at his
watch.
"It is
nearly ten. Make yourself at home here, Mr. Costigan, while I visit Scotland
Yard and see if any clue has been found as to Kathulos' new quarters. I believe
that the webs are closing on him, and with your aid I promise you we will have
the gang located within a week at most."
