dacoit, in obedience to a guttural order from Dr. Fu Manchu,
placed the cage upon the carpet, completely covering Smith's body, but
leaving his neck and head exposed. The seared and pock-marked face set
in a sort of placid leer, the dacoit adjusted the sliding partitions
to Smith's recumbent form, and I saw the purpose of the graduated
arches. They were intended to divide a human body in just such
fashion, and, as I realized, were most cunningly shaped to that end.
The whole of Smith's body lay now in the wire cage, each of the five
compartments whereof was shut off from its neighbour.

The Burman stepped back and stood waiting in the doorway. Dr. Fu
Manchu, removing his gaze from the face of my friend, directed it now
upon me.

"Mr. Commissioner Nayland Smith shall have the honour of acting as
hierophant, admitting himself to the Mysteries," said Fu Manchu
softly, "and you, Dr. Petrie, shall be the Friend."

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SIX GATES

He glanced toward the Burman, who retired immediately, to re-enter a
moment later carrying a curious leather sack, in shape not unlike that
of a _sakka_ or Arab water-carrier. Opening a little trap in the top
of the first compartment of the cage (that is, the compartment which
covered Smith's bare feet and ankles), he inserted the neck of the
sack, then suddenly seized it by the bottom and shook it vigorously.
Before my horrified gaze, four huge rats came tumbling out from the
bag into the cage!

The dacoit snatched away the sack and snapped the shutter fast. A
moving mist obscured my sight, a mist through which I saw the green
eyes of Dr. Fu-Manchu fixed upon me, and through which, as from a
great distance, his voice, sunk to a snakelike hiss, came to my ears.

"Cantonese rats, Dr. Petrie ... the most ravenous in the world ...
they have eaten nothing for nearly a week!"

Then all became blurred as though a painter with a brush steeped in
red had smudged out the details of the picture. For an indefinite
period, which seemed like many minutes yet probably was only a few
seconds, I saw nothing and heard nothing; my sensory nerves were
dulled entirely. From this state I was awakened and brought back to
the realities by a sound which ever afterward I was doomed to
associate with that ghastly scene.

This was the squealing of the rats.

The red mist seemed to disperse at that, and with frightfully intense
interest, I began to study the awful torture to which Nayland Smit