of him, I had never seen Nayland Smith so utterly
perplexed. Between anger, distrust and dismay, he wavered; and each
passing emotion was written legibly upon the lean bronzed features.
Rigid with surprise, he stared at the beautiful face of the girl. She,
although her hand still rested upon Smith's arm, had her dark eyes
turned upon me with that same enigmatical expression. Her lips were
slightly parted, and her breast heaved tumultuously.

This ten seconds of silence in which we three stood looking at one
another encompassed the whole gamut of human emotion. The silence was
broken by Karamaneh.

"They will be coming back that way!" she whispered, bending eagerly
toward me. (How, in the most desperate moments, I loved to listen to
that odd, musical accent!) "Please, if you would save your life, and
spare mine, trust me!"--She suddenly clasped her hands together and
looked up into my face, passionately--"Trust me--just for once--and I
will show you the way!"

Nayland Smith never removed his gaze from her for a moment, nor did he
stir.

"Oh!" she whispered, tremulously, and stamped one little red slipper
upon the floor. "Won't you heed me? Come, or it will be too late!"

I glanced anxiously at my friend; the voice of Dr. Fu-Manchu, now raised
in anger, was audible above the piping tones of the other Chinaman.
And as I caught Smith's eye, in silent query--the trap at my feet began
slowly to lift!

Karamaneh stifled a little sobbing cry; but the warning came too late.
A hideous yellow face with oblique squinting eyes, appeared in the
aperture.

I found myself inert, useless; I could neither think nor act. Nayland
Smith, however, as if instinctively, delivered a pitiless kick at the
head protruding above the trap.

A sickening crushing sound, with a sort of muffled snap, spoke of a
broken jaw-bone; and with no word or cry, the Chinaman fell. As the trap
descended with a bang, I heard the thud of his body on the stone stairs
beneath.

But we were lost. Karamaneh fled along one of the passages lightly as a
bird, and disappeared as Dr. Fu-Manchu, his top lip drawn up above his
teeth in the manner of an angry jackal, appeared from the other.

"This way!" cried Smith, in a voice that rose almost to a shriek--"this
way!"--and he led toward the room overhanging the steps.

Off we dashed with panic swiftness, only to find that this retreat also
was cut off. Dimly visible in the darkness was a group of yellow men,
and