CHAPTER XIX
DR. FU-MANCHU'S LABORATORY
I cannot conceive that any ordinary mortal ever attained to anything
like an intimacy with Dr. Fu-Manchu; I cannot believe that any man
could ever grow used to his presence, could ever cease to fear him. I
suppose I had set eyes upon Fu-Manchu some five or six times prior to
this occasion, and now he was dressed in the manner which I always
associated with him, probably because it was thus I first saw him. He
wore a plain yellow robe, and, his pointed chin resting upon his
bosom, he looked down at me, revealing a great expanse of the
marvellous brow with its sparse, neutral-coloured hair.
Never in my experience have I known such force to dwell in the
glance of any human eye as dwelt in that of this uncanny being. His
singular affliction (if affliction it were), the film or slight
membrane which sometimes obscured the oblique eyes, was particularly
evident at the moment that I crossed the threshold, but now as I
looked up at Dr. Fu-Manchu, it lifted—revealing the eyes in all their
emerald greenness.
The idea of physical attack upon this incredible being seemed
childish—inadequate. But, following that first instant of
stupefaction, I forced myself to advance upon him.
A dull, crushing blow descended on the top of my skull, and I became
oblivious of all things.
My return to consciousness was accompanied by tremendous pains in my
head, whereby, from previous experience, I knew that a sandbag had
been used against me by some one in the shop, presumably by the
immobile shopman. This awakening was accompanied by none of those hazy
doubts respecting previous events and present surroundings which are
the usual symptoms of revival from sudden unconsciousness; even before
I opened my eyes, before I had more than a partial command of my
senses, I knew that, with my wrists handcuffed behind me, I lay in a
room which was also occupied by Dr. Fu-Manchu. This absolute certainty
of the Chinaman's presence was evidenced, not by my senses, but only
by an inner consciousness, and the same that always awakened into life
at the approach not only of Fu-Manchu in person but of certain of his
uncanny servants.
A faint perfume hung in the air about me; I do not mean that of any
essence or of any incense, but rather the smell which is suffused by
Oriental furniture, by Oriental draperies; the indefinable but
unmistakable perfume of the East.
Thus, London has a distinct smell of its own, and so has Paris, whilst
the difference between Marseilles and Suez, for instance, is even more
marked. Now the atmosphere surrounding me was Eastern, but not of the
East that I knew; rather it was Far Eastern. Perhaps I do not make
myself very clear, but to me there was a mysterious significance in
that perfumed atmosphere. I opened my eyes.
I lay upon a long low settee, in a fairly large room which was
furnished, as I had anticipated, in an absolutely Oriental fashion.
The two windows were so screened as to have lost, from the interior
point of view, all resemblance to European windows, and the whole
structure of the room had been altered in conformity, bearing out my
idea that the place had been prepared for Fu-Manchu's reception some
time before his actual return. I doubt if, East or West, a duplicate
of that singular apartment could be found.
The end in which I lay was, as I have said, typical of an Eastern
house, and a large, ornate lantern hung from the ceiling almost
directly above me. The farther end of the room was occupied by tall
cases, some of them containing books, but the majority filled with
scientific paraphernalia: rows of flasks and jars, frames of
test-tubes, retorts, scales, and other objects of the laboratory. At a
large and very finely carved table sat Dr. Fu-Manchu, a yellow and
faded volume open before him, and some dark red fluid, almost like
blood, bubbling in a test-tube which he held over the flame of a
Bunsen-burner.
The enormously long nail of his right index finger rested upon the
opened page of the book, to which he seemed constantly to refer,
dividing his attention between the volume, the contents of the
test-tube, and the progress of a second experiment, or possibly a part
of the same, which was taking place upon another corner of the
littered table.
A huge glass retort (the bulb was fully two feet in diameter), fitted
with a Liebig's Condenser, rested in a metal frame, and within the
bulb, floating in an oily substance, was a fungus some six inches
high, shaped like a toadstool, but of a brilliant and venomous orange
colour. Three flat tubes of light were so arranged as to cast violet
rays upward into the retort, and the receiver, wherein condensed the
product of this strange experiment, contained some drops of a red
fluid which may have been identical with that boiling in the
test-tube.
These things I perceived at a glance; then the filmy eyes of Dr.
Fu-Manchu were raised from the book, turned in my direction, and all
else was forgotten.
"I regret," came the sibilant voice, "that unpleasant measures were
necessary, but hesitation would have been fatal. I trust, Dr. Petrie,
that you suffer no inconvenience?"
To this speech no reply was possible, and I attempted none.
"You have long been aware of my esteem for your acquirements,"
continued the Chinaman, his voice occasionally touching deep guttural
notes, "and you will appreciate the pleasure which this visit affords
me. I kneel at the feet of my silver Buddha. I look to you, when you
shall have overcome your prejudices—due to ignorance of my true
motives—to assist me in establishing that intellectual control which
is destined to be the new World Force. I bear you no malice for your
ancient enmity, and even now"—he waved one yellow hand toward the
retort—"I am conducting an experiment designed to convert you from
your misunderstanding, and to adjust your perspective."
Quite unemotionally he spoke, then turned again to his book, his
test-tube and retort, in the most matter-of-fact way imaginable. I do
not think the most frenzied outburst on his part, the most fiendish
threats, could have produced such effect upon me as those cold and
carefully calculated words, spoken in that unique voice. In its tones,
in the glance of the green eyes, in the very pose of the gaunt,
high-shouldered body, there was power—force.
I counted myself lost, and in view of the Doctor's words, studied the
progress of the experiment with frightful interest. But a few moments
sufficed in which to realize that, for all my training, I knew as
little of Chemistry—of Chemistry as understood by this man's
genius—as a junior student in surgery knows of trephining. The
process in operation was a complete mystery to me; the means and the
end were alike incomprehensible.
Thus, in the heavy silence of that room, a silence only broken by the
regular bubbling from the test-tube, I found my attention straying
from the table to the other objects surrounding it; and at one of them
my gaze stopped and remained chained with horror.
It was a glass jar, some five feet in height and filled with viscous
fluid of a light amber colour. Out from this peered a hideous,
dog-like face, low-browed, with pointed ears and a nose almost
hoggishly flat. By the death-grin of the face the gleaming fangs were
revealed; and the body, the long yellow-grey body, rested, or seemed
to rest, upon short, malformed legs, whilst one long limp arm, the
right, hung down straightly in the preservative. The left arm had been
severed above the elbow.
Fu-Manchu, finding his experiment to be proceeding favourably, lifted
his eyes to me again.
"You are interested in my poor Cynocephalyte?" he said; and his eyes
were filmed like the eyes of one afflicted with cataract. "He was a
devoted servant, Dr. Petrie, but the lower influences in his genealogy
sometimes conquered. Then he got out of hand; and at last he was so
ungrateful toward those who had educated him, that, in one of those
paroxysms of his, he attacked and killed a most faithful Burman, one
of my oldest followers."
Fu-Manchu returned to his experiment.
Not the slightest emotion had he exhibited thus far, but had chatted
with me as any other scientist might chat with a friend who casually
visits his laboratory. The horror of the thing was playing havoc with
my own composure, however. There I lay, fettered, in the same room
with this man whose existence was a menace to the entire white race,
whilst placidly he pursued an experiment designed, if his own words
were believable, to cut me off from my kind—to wreak some change,
psychological or physiological I knew not; to place me, it might be,
upon a level with such brute things as that which now hung, half
floating, in the glass jar!
Something I know of the history of that ghastly specimen, that thing
neither man nor ape; for within my own knowledge had it not attempted
the life of Nayland Smith, and was it not I who, with an axe, had
maimed it in the instant of one of its last slayings?
Of these things Dr. Fu-Manchu was well aware, so that his placid
speech was doubly, trebly horrible to my ears. I sought, furtively, to
move my arms, only to realize that, as I had anticipated, the
handcuffs were chained to a ring in the wall behind me. The
establishments of Dr. Fu-Manchu were always well provided with such
contrivances as these.
I uttered a short, harsh laugh. Fu-Manchu stood up slowly from the
table, and, placing the test-tube in a rack, deposited the latter
carefully upon a shelf at his side.
"I am happy to find you in such good humour," he said softly. "Other
affairs call me; and, in my absence, that profound knowledge of
chemistry, of which I have had evidence in the past, will enable you
to follow with intelligent interest the action of these violet rays
upon this exceptionally fine specimen of Siberian Amanita muscaria.
At some future time, possibly when you are my guest in China—which
country I am now making arrangements for you to visit—I shall discuss
with you some lesser-known properties of this species; and I may say
that one of your first tasks when you commence your duties as
assistant in my laboratory in Kiangsu, will be to conduct a series of
twelve experiments, which I have outlined, into other potentialities
of this unique fungus."
He walked quietly to a curtained doorway, with his catlike yet awkward
gait, lifted the drapery, and, bestowing upon me a slight bow of
farewell, went out of the room.