The Island of Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer Page B

suppose he swims? Granting that small submarines can pass through under water, small submarines can’t carry all the gear needed for a young dockyard!”
    “That point is one to which I have given some attention,” said Smith. “It suggests that ‘the one and only entrance from the land’ referred to by da Cunha is not the entrance shown in the chart—”
    “You mean there are two?”
    “Quite possibly.”
    “Then why should these Si-Fan devils go to such lengths to get hold of my chart?”
    “Surely that is obvious. They feared an attack from this unknown point. They knew that the Intelligence services of two countries were making intensive inquiries; for whilst that ‘great and lofty cave’ remains undiscovered it is a menace to us and to the Unites States.”
    “It’s to the United States,” said Barton, “that I am offering my services. My own country, as usual, has turned me down.”
    “Nevertheless,” rapped Smith, “it is to your own country that you are offering your services. Listen. You retired from the Army with the rank of Major, I believe. Very well, you’re Lieutenant-Colonel.”
    “What!” shouted Barton.
    “I’ve bought you from the War Office. You’re mine, body and soul. You’re Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Lionel Barton, and you lead the expedition because I shall be in comparatively unfamiliar territory. But remember, you act under my orders.”
    “I prefer to act independently.”
    “You’ve been gazetted Lieutenant-Colonel and you’re under the orders of the War Office. There’s a Clipper leaves for the United States on Monday from Lisbon. I have peculiar powers. Be good enough to regard me as your commanding officer. Here are your papers.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE HOSTAGE
    I drew the blinds and stared down at Bayswater Road, dismal in the light of a wet, grey dawn. Sleep was out of the question. Two men stood talking over by the Park gate—the gate at which Ardatha had reappeared in my life. Although I heard no one enter the room behind me, a hand was placed on my shoulder. I started, turned, and looked into the lean, sunbaked face of Nayland Smith.
    “It’s rough on you, Kerrigan,” he said quietly. “Really you need rest. I know what you were thinking. But don’t despair. Gallaho has set a watch on every known point of departure.”
    “Do you expect any result?”
    He watched me for a moment, compassionately, and then:
    “No,” he replied, “she is probably already on her way to America.”
    I stifled a groan.
    “What I cannot understand,” I said, “is how these journeys are managed. Fu-Manchu seems to travel with a considerable company and to travel fast. He was prepared to include Barton and myself in the party. How is it done, Smith?”
    “I don’t know! I have puzzled over that very thing more times than enough. He returned from the West Indies ahead of me; yet no liner carried him and no known plane. Granting, it is true, that he commands tremendous financial resources, in war time no private yacht and certainly no private plane could go far unchallenged. I don’t know. It is just another of those mysteries which surround Dr. Fu-Manchu.”
    “Those two men are watching the house, Smith—”
    “It’s their job: Scotland Yard! We shall have a bodyguard up to the moment that we leave Croydon by air for Lisbon. This scheme to isolate the United States Navy is a major move in some dark game. It has a flaw, and Barton has found it!”
    “But they have the chart—”
    “Apart from the fact that he has copied the chart, Barton has an encyclopaedic memory—hence Fu-Manchu’s anxiety to make sure of him.”
    London was not awake: it came to me that Nayland Smith and I alone were alive to a peril greater than any which had ever threatened the world. In the silence, for not even the milkmen were abroad yet, I could hear Barton breathing regularly in the spare room—that hardened old campaigner could have slept on Judgement Day.
    My phone bell