The Drums of Fu-Manchu Read Online Free PDF Page B

opinion would bring at least temporary peace to the world. But it’s my job at the moment to protect them!”
    “Have you any idea of the identity of this Council of Seven?”
    “The members are changed from time to time.”
    “But the president?”
    “The president is Doctor Fu-Manchu! I would give much to know where Doctor Fu-Manchu is tonight—”
    And almost before the last syllable was spoken a voice replied:
    “No doubt you would like a word with me, Sir Denis…”
    For once in all the years that I knew him, Smith’s iron self-possession broke down. It was then he came to his feet as though a pistol shot and not a human voice had sounded. A touch of pallor showed under the prominent cheekbones. Fists clenched, a man amazed beyond reason, he stared around.
    I, too, was staring—at the television screen.
    It had become illuminated. It was occupied by an immobile face—a wonderful face—a face that might have served as model for that of the fallen angel. Long, narrow eyes seemed to be watching me. They held, my gaze hypnotically.
    A murmur, wholly unlike Smith’s normal tones, reached my ears… it seemed to come from a great distance.
    “Good God!
Fu-Manchu!
”

CHAPTER SIX

SATAN INCARNATE
    I can never forget those moments of silence which followed the appearance of that wonderful evil face upon the screen.
    The utterly mysterious nature of the happening had me by the throat, transcending as it did anything which I could have imagined. I was prepared to believe Dr. Fu-Manchu a wizard—a reincarnation of some ancient sorcerer; Apollonius of Tyana reborn with the fires of hell in his eyes.
    “If you will be so good, Sir Denis”—the voice was sibilant, unemotional, the thin lips barely moved—“as to switch your lights off, you will find it easier to follow me. Just touch the red button on the right of the screen and I shall know that you have complied.”
    That Nayland Smith did so was a fact merely divined from an added clarity in that image of the Chinese doctor, for I was unaware of any movement, indeed, of any presence other than that of Fu-Manchu.
    The image moved back, and I saw now that the speaker was seated in a carved chair.
    “This interesting device,” the precise, slightly hissing voicecontinued, “is yet in its infancy. If I intruded at a fortunate moment, this was an accident—for I am unable to hear you. Credit for this small contribution belongs to one of the few first-class mechanical brains which the West has produced in recent years.”
    I felt a grip upon my shoulders. Nayland Smith stood beside me.
    “He was at work upon the principle at the time of his reported death!… He has since improved upon it in my laboratories.” Only by a tightening of Smith’s grip did I realise the fact that this, to me, incomprehensible statement held a hidden meaning.
    “I find it useful as a means of communication with my associates, Sir Denis. I hope to perfect it. Do not waste your time trying to trace the mechanic who installed it. My purpose in speaking to you was this: You have recently learned the distressing details concerning the death of General Quinto. Probably you know that he complained of a sound of drums just before the end—a characteristic symptom…”
    The uncanny speaker paused—bent forward—I lost consciousness of everything save of his eyes and of his voice.
    “My drums, Sir Denis, will call to others before I shall have satisfied the fools in power today that I, Fu-Manchu, and I alone, hold the scales in my hand. I ask you to join me now—for my enemies are your enemies. Consider my words—consider them deeply.”
    Smith did not stir, but I could hear his rapid breathing.
    “You would not wish to see the purposeless slaughter in Spain, in China, carried into England? Think of that bloody farce called the Great War!” A vibrating guttural note had entered into the unforgettable voice. “I, who have had some opportunities of seeing you in action, Sir Denis,