'Quiet!' Weymouth whispered. 'Don't move until I give the word.'
My legs were aching because of the discomfort of my position, but I stuck to it, still listening intently.
Absolute silence....
'Alt,' Weymouth directed. 'Uncover the light.'
Ali Mahmoud dragging his robe from the lantern, dim yellow light showed us the low- roofed, rough-hewn chamber in which we crouched.
'Effendim!' Ali exclaimed, in quivering tones. 'I saw him when first we came in. Look!'
Face downwards upon a mound of rubbish in an angle farthest from the entrance was a brown man, naked except for his loin- cloth and dark turban knotted tightly about his head!
'He is cold,' Ali continued; 'and as I knelt in the darkness I had to support my weight upon his dead body....'
4
On hands and knees I crawled out into the passage. I contrived to make no sound.
I looked to my left.
Ali's lantern was just visible at the bend. Standing upright, I headed for it, stepping warily. At the comer I dropped to my knees again and stared up the slope. She was not in sight: I could trace the path beyond the wall to the next bend.
I proceeded....
In view of the ladders I pulled up. A vague light, moon rays on black velvet, broke the darkness. I thought perhaps it came down the shaft... but it began to fade.
I hurried forward. I reached our excava- tion and looked up. No one was on the ladders.
Hopelessly puzzled I stood, listening.
And in that complete stillness I heard it again... the sound of footsteps softly receding....
She had gone up the steep slope which led to the former entrance--but which now ended in an impassable mass of rock! I had her!
Weymouth's instructions were forgotten. I meant to make a capture! This woman was the clue to the mystery.... It was she who had stolen the chiefs body--and even without the clue provided by Rima's camera, I should have known her in spite of disguise.
Madame Ingomar!
Scrambling over irregular masses of stone, I had not gone five paces, I suppose, before a definite fact intruded itself. Whereas the air in the lower passage was fetid, almost unbreathable, here it was comparatively fresh.
I came to the angle, rounded it, and stopped.... I shot the ray of a torch ahead, expecting a wall of rock.
An irregular opening, some five feet high, yawned, caver-nesque, right of the passage! Running forward, I climbed through, throwing the ray of my torch before me. This opening had been completed at some earlier time, closed up and camouflaged.
I stood in a shallow pit. A ladder rested beside me, rearing its length into the darkness above. All this I saw as I stared upward, intently.
Light in hand, I mounted the ladder.... I found myself in a low tunnel. I stood still, listening, but could detect no sound. I pushed on, cautiously, the air growing ever fresher, until suddenly recognition came.
Switching off the light, I stared up to an opening where one pale star hung like a diamond pendant.
The passage ahead of me was empty. But I knew, now, where I stood, and I knew how the woman had escaped....
This was Lafleur's Shaft!
5
Weymouth nodded, looking very grim.
'We are dealing with a she-devil,' he said, 'and I suppose she came to look for her servant.'
He shone a light upon the upturned face of the man we had found in that chamber. It was a lined, leering face, hideous now by reason of the fact that the man had died from strangulation. Between the brows was a pecu- liar, coloured mark--how produced I could not imagine. But it appeared to have been seared in the yellow flesh, and then enamelled in some way.
'A Burman,' Weymouth went on, 'and a religious dacoit.'
He touched the mark with his finger, then stood still, listening. We all three listened, breathlessly--yet I dare swear no one of us knew what he expected to hear.
I thought as I looked down at those distorted features that if the slanting eyes were opened, this might well be a twin brother of the malignant creature who had followed me to Cairo.
'What does it all mean?' I asked.
'It means that our worst suspicions were correct,' Weymouth replied. 'If ever I saw one, this is a servant of Dr. Fu Manchu! This carries me back, Greville, to a scene in Sir Lionel's house late in 1913--the death of the Chinaman, Kwee. It may be a coincidence but it's an odd one. Because Kwee met his death when he was engaged on the same duty which I presume brought this yellow demon here. '
'The murder of Barton?'
Weymouth nodded.
'Precisely. It's more than strange, and it's very horrible. '
'Yet surely there's hope in it,' I exclaimed excitedly. 'This man belonged to the enemy. He has been strangled. It is just possible....'
'By heavens! it is!' he took me up. 'After all he didn't die at the hands of his own friends. '
'One thing is fairly certain,' I said; 'he came by the same route as the woman--by Lafleur's Shaft. What isn't certain is when a way was forced through. '
'Nor why a way was forced through,' Weymouth added. 'What in heaven's name were they after? Is it possible'--he lowered his voice, staring at the procession of hideous, giant apes which marched eternally round the walls of the chamber--'that there was something in this tomb beyond....' He nodded in the direction of the sarcophagus.
'Quite possible,' I replied; 'but lacking special information to the contrary the first thing any excavator would do would be to open the mummy case. '
'This seems to have been done. '
'What!' I cried. 'What! '
'Look for yourself,' Weymouth invited, a curious expression in his voice.
He directed a ray on one end of the sarcophagus; whereupon:
'Good God!' I cried.
The wooden rivets had been removed, the lid raised and then replaced! Two wedges prevented its falling into its original position, leaving a gap of an inch or more all around....
I stared in utter stupefaction, until: 'Have you any idea why that should be done?' Weymouth asked.
I shook my head. 'Unless to make it easier to lift again,' I suggested.
'If that was the idea,' Weymouth went on quickly, 'we will take advantage of it.' He turned to Ali. 'Hold the light--so. Now, Greville, get a grip with me, here. Don't move to any other part of the lid if you can avoid it--there may be fingerprints. And now ... see if we can raise it.'
In a state of such excitement as I cannot describe, I obeyed. Simultaneously we lifted, steadily. It responded to our efforts, being lighter than I had supposed....
I fixed a half-fearful gaze upon its shadowy interior.
It appeared to contain a dull, grey mass, irregular in contour, provokingly familiar yet impossible to identify in that first dramatic moment. The very unexpectedness of its appearance destroyed my reasoning powers, temporarily defeating recognition.
When we had the lid at an angle of about forty-five:
'Hold it!' I called. 'I'll take the other end. '
'Right!' Weymouth agreed.
'Now!'
We lifted the lid bodily and laid it on the floor.
I could not have believed that that night of mystery and horror had one more thrill for my jaded nerves. Yet it
