LONG minutes went by, while Mildred’s thoughts remained at a standstill. The girl sensed the passing of time; she knew, instinctively, that the spectral shape would not return tonight. Nevertheless, she waited here, calmly resting, her mind perturbed at times, at other intervals less fearful.
At last, Mildred regained power of action. She started to rise from the bench; then stood transfixed at the sight of another living form. Where The Shadow’s shape had been mysterious and supernatural, this new specter was hideous and earthly. With tightened lips, Mildred shrank back upon the bench, knowing that she now faced danger.
A creeping man was coming from the grove. His body bent almost double, he appeared more as a crawling creature than a man. He was moving stealthily, yet lacked the gliding motion that had characterized the approach of The Shadow.
As the creeping man came into the moonlight, his face was visible above his close-fitting dusky garments. He had come from the grove at a spot quite close to the shore. Now, his head turned in each direction, and Mildred, slipping down upon the bench, could see his visage plainly.
The girl was terror-stricken at the sight of yellow, pockmarked features, and evil, glinting eyes that stared almost directly toward her. She recognized that this creature was a Chinaman, his fiendish bearing and huddled arms indicated that he carried a weapon. Here was a human enemy, Mildred sensed.
Had the yellow man spied her, she would have counted herself lost. But the Chinaman’s gaze did not light upon the girl.
This creature that had materialized from the trees seemed intent upon reaching the shelter of the house. Satisfied that no one was watching, he scurried across the lawn, and huddled beside the porch. From that spot, Mildred fancied that she heard a thin, faint whistle - like a shrill, though guarded, hiss.
The girl listened. A second sound came from somewhere. The Chinaman appeared upon the steps. He was entering the house!
Now, despite her qualms, Mildred felt the necessity of action. The first spectral visitor had inspired her with awe; the present one filled her with alarm.
Was the man bent on murder? Mildred could well believe it. She had feared for Walter Pearson when she had seen him go into the grove. Something must have happened to the lawyer. Now a physical menace had come from the grove; it threatened all who slept in Lower Beechview.
Rising swiftly, Mildred hurried directly toward the house. She was ready to encounter the yellow-faced creature, confident that she would be able to give an alarm. Nevertheless, she restrained her steps as she neared the porch. From then on, the girl advanced cautiously.
A living-room window was open. Mildred stole toward it, noiselessly. She could hear sounds from within. She listened.
Someone was speaking a low, singsong voice - scarcely more than a piping whisper. There were breaks in the talk, as though the speaker were receiving replies from someone who spoke more guardedly.
“Lei Chang do” - Mildred could hear only that statement; then mumbled words, and finally a strangely accented name - “Koon Woon - Koon Woon - Koon Woon -“
At last the lisping talk concluded. Mildred heard someone moving in the darkened living room. She waited beside the window; then shrank behind a protecting chair as she saw, but did not hear, the front door open.
THE Chinaman was leaving the house. As silently as he had come, the yellow-faced creature, more insidious at this close view, was hurrying back to the grove of trees. Watching through the rails of the porch, Mildred saw him scurry to the beeches; then his stooped form was swallowed by the darkness.
Mildred was sure that more than conjecture made her realize that this wicked-looking monstrosity made his home among the beeches. But she could not divine why he had come into the house. Harvey, like herself, had been awake. Could he have been watching from the window to see this fearful creature?
If so, how had he avoided an encounter? Horrified, Mildred realized the answer. She understood now why Harvey could have been staying awake so many nights. A rendezvous with this creature from the beeches! That could well be the answer!
Mildred was more frightened now than she had been before. She would prefer to see her husband in grave danger than to imagine him in touch with such an outlandish monster. But the thought awoke terrifying memories within the recesses of her mind.
Harvey had often spoken briefly of his trips to China and the Orient - of his acquaintances there - of the strange customs in the East. In some ways, Harvey had imbibed an Oriental philosophy for he had often spoken with unfeigned admiration of the Chinese and their methods.
Lei Chang!
Somehow Mildred sensed that such was the creature’s name. Who then was Koon Woon? Another man from China?
Mildred could not answer these perplexing questions. She realized dully that now she was more anxious to be within the house than without. Her entire view had changed.
Carefully, the girl entered the front door and ascended the stairs without making a sound. She stopped outside of Harvey’s room. She heard a few slight noises, but they were no proof that Harvey was still awake. He might have been tossing in his sleep.
Craig Ware’s room was nearby. Before the door, Mildred could hear the stentorian breathing of the middle aged showman. Then she thought of Jessup. His room was in a wing at the back of the house. Mildred decided that she would not investigate there.
Instead, she went into her own room and lay quietly in bed, seeking sleep. Each doze was interrupted. Once Mildred fancied that she heard someone moving in the hall; again, she imagined that whistled hissing; finally she was sure that she heard sounds on the other side of the house.
Bravely the girl calmed these recurring fears and finally dropped off to sleep. Vague dreams perturbed her mind and frequently brought her to a waking point. In those dreams, she heard unexplainable noises, and caught the fancied gleam of a wicked, yellow face. But one impression triumphed over all these nightmares; that was the form of a tall being clad in black.
Through her troubled sleep, Mildred could see this one apparition battling off the weird figures that surrounded her. The recollection of The Shadow predominated over all others. When morning dawned, the memory of that first phantom greeted Mildred Chittenden. From the confused recollections of the hectic night, she recalled the black-clad shape that had come from the mysterious grove.
The thought of the tall, gliding form remained a warning in her mind. The recollection of The Shadow made Mildred feel that only beings of a superhuman mold could safely trespass upon the ground beneath the beeches where the yellow-faced menace dwelt.
CHAPTER VII
AT UPPER BEECHVIEW
LATE the following afternoon, two young men appeared upon a terrace of the huge house on the crag above Long Island Sound. From this vantage point of Upper Beechview, they commanded a wide sweep of the terrain below. The clubhouse of the golf course was obscured by a corner of the mansion; aside from that, every detail of the surrounding territory was visible in panorama.
One of these observers held a pair of field glasses. In the dimming light, he made a careful inspection of the ground that lay between Upper Beechview and the grove; then his hands raised so that he could plainly see what was going on at Lower Beechview.
The young man with the field glasses was Wilbur Chittenden; his companion was his brother Zachary. Their secretive actions indicated that this spying procedure was not a new custom. Evidently they had been practicing it for days.
Wilbur Chittenden lowered the field glasses and uttered a growl of displeasure. Wilbur bore a marked resemblance to his elder brother Harvey, the present occupant of Lower Beechview. Only the pallor of his face - a sharp contrast to Harvey’s coat of tan - would have enabled an acquaintance to have told them apart.
Zachary, while he possessed the Chittenden facial characteristics, was quite different in appearance. Harvey and Wilbur were tall; Zachary was short. Wilbur, like Harvey, was mature and self-possessed; Zachary had the face of a weakling. Nevertheless the youngest of the Chittendens was impressive in his shrewdness. His physiognomy
