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.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163