This is the second volume in Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu series, and the first full novel; it may also be found alternatively titled as "The Return of Dr. Fu Manchu." (The first volume, if you wish to start at the beginning, is a collection of short stories, and can be found either titled "The Mystery of Dr. Fu Manchu" or "The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu"). "The Devil Doctor" was written by Arthur Henry Sarsfield Ward, known better under his pseudonym, Sax Rohmer. Sax Rohmer was a prolific eng novelist. He is best remembered for his series of novels featuring the master criminal Dr. Fu Manchu. (Excerpt from Wikipedia)
W
hen did you last hear from Nayland Smith?" asked my visitor.
I paused, my hand on the siphon, reflecting for a moment.
"Two months ago," I said: "he's a poor correspondent and rather soured, I fancy."
"What-a woman or something?"
"Some affair of that sort. He's such a reticent beggar, I really know very little about it."
I placed a whisky and soda before the Rev. J. D. Eltham, also sliding the tobacco jar nearer to his hand. The refined and sensitive face of the clergyman offered no indication to the truculent character of the man. His scanty fair hair, already grey over the temples, was silken and soft-looking: in appearance he was indeed a typical English churchman; but in China he had been known as "the fighting missionary," and had fully deserved the title. In fact, this peaceful-looking gentleman had directly brought about the Boxer Risings!
"You know," he said in his clerical voice, but meanwhile stuffing tobacco into an old pipe with fierce energy, "I have often wondered, Petrie-I have never left off wondering-"
"What?"
"That accursed Chinaman! Since the cellar place beneath the site of the burnt-out cottage in Dulwich Village-I have wondered more than ever."
He lighted his pipe and walked to the hearth to throw the match in the grate.
"You see," he continued, peering across at me in his oddly nervous way-"one never knows, does one? If I thought that Dr. Fu-Manchu lived; if I seriously suspected that that stupendous intellect, that wonderful genius, Petrie, er"-he hesitated characteristically-"survived, I should feel it my duty-"
"Well?" I said, leaning my elbows on the table and smiling slightly.
"If that Satanic genius were not indeed destroyed, then the peace of the world might be threatened anew at any moment!"
He was becoming excited, shooting out his jaw in the truculent manner I knew, and snapping his fingers to emphasize his words; a man composed of the oddest complexities that ever dwelt beneath a clerical frock.
"He may have got back to China, doctor!" he cried, and his eyes had the fighting glint in them. "Could you rest in peace if you thought that he lived? Should you not fear for your life every time that a night-call took you out alone? Why, man alive, it is only two years since he was here amongst us, since we were searching every shadow for those awful green eyes! What became of his band of assassins-his stranglers, his dacoits, his damnable poisons and insects and what-not-the army of creatures-"
He paused, taking a drink.
"You"-he hesitated diffidently-"searched in Egypt with Nayland Smith, did you not?"
I nodded.
"Contradict me if I am wrong," he continued; "but my impression is that you were searching for the girl-the girl-Karamanèh, I think she was called?"
"Yes," I replied shortly; "but we could find no trace-no trace."
"You-er-were interested?"
"More than I knew," I replied, "until I realized that I had-lost her."
"I never met Karamanèh, but from your account, and from others, she was quite unusually-"
"She was very beautiful," I said, and stood up, for I was anxious to terminate that phase of the conversation.
Eltham regarded me sympathetically; he knew something of my search with Nayland Smith for the dark-eyed Eastern girl who had brought romance into my drab life; he knew that I treasured my memories of her as I loathed and abhorred those of the fiendish, brilliant Chinese doctor who had been her master.
Eltham began to pace up and down the rug, his pipe bubbling furiously; and something in the way he carried his head reminded me momentarily of Nayland Smith. Certainly, between this pink-faced clergyman, with his deceptively mild appearance, and the gaunt, bronzed and steely-eyed Burmese commissioner, there was externally little in common; but it was some little nervous trick in his carriage that conjured up through the smoke-haze one distant summer evening when Smith had paced that very room as Eltham paced it now, when before my startled eyes he had rung up the curtain upon the savage drama in which, though I little suspected it then, Fate had cast me for a leading r?le.
I wondered if Eltham's thoughts ran parallel with mine. My own were centred upon the unforgettable figure of the murderous Chinaman. These words, exactly as Smith had used them, seemed once again to sound in my ears: "Imagine a person, tall, lean and feline, high-shouldered, with a brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan, a close-shaven skull and long magnetic eyes of the true cat green. Invest him with all the cruel cunning of an entire Eastern race accumulated in one giant intellect, with all the resources of science, past and present, and you have a mental picture of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the 'Yellow Peril' incarnate in one man."
This visit of Eltham's no doubt was responsible for my mood; for this singular clergyman had played his part in the drama of two years ago.
"I should like to see Smith again," he said suddenly; "it seems a pity that a man like that should be buried in Burma. Burma makes a mess of the best of men, doctor. You said he was not married?"
"No," I replied shortly, "and is never likely to be, now."
"Ah, you hinted at something of the kind."
"I know very little of it. Nayland Smith is not the kind of man to talk much."
"Quite so-quite so! And, you know, doctor, neither am I; but"-he was growing painfully embarrassed-"it may be your due-I-er-I have a correspondent, in the interior of China-"
"Well?" I said, watching him in sudden eagerness.
"Well, I would not desire to raise-vain hopes-nor to occasion, shall I say, empty fears; but-er ... no, doctor!" He flushed like a girl. "It was wrong of me to open this conversation. Perhaps, when I know more-will you forget my words, for the time?"
The 'phone bell rang.
"Hullo!" cried Eltham-"hard luck, doctor!"-but I could see that he welcomed the interruption. "Why!" he added, "it is one o'clock!"
I went to the telephone.
"Is that Dr. Petrie?" inquired a woman's voice.
"Yes; who is speaking?"
"Mrs. Hewett has been taken more seriously ill. Could you come at once?"
"Certainly," I replied, for Mrs. Hewett was not only a profitable patient but an estimable lady. "I shall be with you in a quarter of an hour."
I hung up the receiver.
"Something urgent?" asked Eltham, emptying his pipe.
"Sounds like it. You had better turn in."
"I should much prefer to walk over with you, if it would not be intruding. Our conversation has ill prepared me for sleep."
"Right!" I said, for I welcomed his company; and three minutes later we were striding across the deserted common.
A sort of mist floated amongst the trees, seeming in the moonlight like a veil draped from trunk to trunk, as in silence we passed the Mound Pond, and struck out for the north side of the common.
I suppose the presence of Eltham and the irritating recollection of his half-confidence were the responsible factors, but my mind persistently dwelt upon the subject of Fu-Manchu and the atrocities which he had committed during his sojourn in England. So actively was my imagination at work that I felt again the menace which so long had hung over me; I felt as though that murderous yellow cloud still cast its shadow upon England. And I found myself longing for the company of Nayland Smith. I cannot state what was the nature of Eltham's reflections, but I can guess; for he was as silent as I.
It was with a conscious effort that I shook myself out of this morbidly reflective mood, on finding that we had crossed the common and were come to the abode of my patient.
"I shall take a little walk," announced Eltham; "for I gather that you don't expect to be detained long? I shall never be out of sight of the door, of course."
"Very well," I replied, and ran up the steps.
There were no lights to be seen in any of the windows, which circumstance rather surprised me, as my patient occupied, or had occupied when last I had visited her, a first-floor bedroom in the front of the house. My knocking and ringing produced no response for three or four minutes; then, as I persisted, a scantily clothed and half-awake maid-servant unbarred the door and stared at me stupidly in the moonlight.
"Mrs. Hewett requires me?" I asked abruptly.
The girl stared more stupidly than ever.
"No, sir," she said: "she don't, sir; she's fast asleep!"
"But some one 'phoned me!" I insisted, rather irritably, I fear.
"Not from here, sir," declared the now wide-eyed girl. "We haven't got a telephone, sir."
For a few moments I stood there, staring as foolishly as she; then abruptly I turned and descended the steps. At the gate I stood looking up and down the road. The houses were all in darkness. What could be the meaning of the mysterious summons? I had made no mistake respecting the name of my patient; it had been twice repeated over the telephone; yet that the call had not emanated from Mrs. Hewett's house was now palpably evident. Days had been when I should have regarded the episode as preluding some outrage, but to-night I felt more disposed to ascribe it to a silly practical joke.
Eltham walked up briskly.
"You're in demand to-night, doctor," he said. "A young person called for you almost directly you had left your house, and, learning where you were gone, followed you."
"Indeed!" I said, a trifle incredulously. "There are plenty of other doctors if the case is an urgent one."
"She may have thought it would save time as you were actually up and dressed," explained Eltham; "and the house is quite near to here, I understand."
I looked at him a little blankly. Was this another effort of the unknown jester?
"I have been fooled once," I said. "That 'phone call was a hoax-"
"But I feel certain," declared Eltham earnestly, "that this is genuine! The poor girl was dreadfully agitated; her master has broken his leg and is lying helpless: number 280 Rectory Grove."
"Where is the girl?" I asked sharply.
"She ran back directly she had given me her message."
"Was she a servant?"
"I should imagine so: French, I think. But she was so wrapped up I had little more than a glimpse of her. I am sorry to hear that some one has played a silly joke on you, but believe me"-he was very earnest-"this is no jest. The poor girl could scarcely speak for sobs. She mistook me for you, of course."
"Oh!" said I grimly; "well, I suppose I must go. Broken leg, you said?-and my surgical bag, splints and so forth, are at home!"
"My dear Petrie!" cried Eltham, in his enthusiastic way, "you no doubt can do something to alleviate the poor man's suffering immediately. I will run back to your rooms for the bag and rejoin you at 280 Rectory Grove."
"It's awfully good of you, Eltham-"
He held up his hand.
"The call of suffering humanity, Petrie, is one which I may no more refuse to hear than you."
I made no further protest after that, for his point of view was evident and his determination adamantine, but told him where he would find the bag and once more set out across the moon-bright common, he pursuing a westerly direction and I going east.
Some three hundred yards I had gone, I suppose, and my brain had been very active the while, when something occurred to me which placed a new complexion upon this second summons. I thought of the falsity of the first, of the improbability of even the most hardened practical joker practising his wiles at one o'clock in the morning. I thought of our recent conversation; above all I thought of the girl who had delivered the message to Eltham, the girl whom he had described as a French maid-whose personal charm had so completely enlisted his sympathies. Now, to this train of thought came a new one, and, adding it, my suspicion became almost a certainty.
I remembered (as, knowing the district, I should have remembered before) that there was no number 280 Rectory Grove.
Pulling up sharply, I stood looking about me. Not a living soul was in sight; not even a policeman. Where the lamps marked the main paths across the common nothing moved; in the shadows about me nothing stirred. But something stirred within me-a warning voice which for long had lain dormant.
What was afoot?
A breeze caressed the leaves overhead, breaking the silence with mysterious whisperings. Some portentous truth was seeking for admittance to my brain. I strove to reassure myself, but the sense of impending evil and of mystery became heavier. At last I could combat my strange fears no longer. I turned and began to run towards the south side of the common-towards my rooms-and after Eltham.
I had hoped to head him off, but came upon no sign of him. An all-night tramcar passed at the moment that I reached the high-road, and as I ran around behind it I saw that my windows were lighted and that there was a light in the hall.
My key was yet in the lock when my housekeeper opened the door.
"There's a gentleman just come, doctor," she began.
I thrust past her and raced up the stairs to my study.
Standing by the writing-table was a tall thin man, his gaunt face brown as a coffee-berry and his steely grey eyes fixed upon me. My heart gave a great leap-and seemed to stand still.
It was Nayland Smith!
"Smith!" I cried. "Smith, old man, by God, I'm glad to see you!"
He wrung my hand hard, looking at me with his searching eyes; but there was little enough of gladness in his face. He was altogether greyer than when last I had seen him-greyer and sterner.
"Where is Eltham?" I asked.
Smith started back as though I had struck him.
"Eltham!" he whispered-"Eltham! is Eltham here?"
"I left him ten minutes ago on the common."
Smith dashed his right fist into the palm of his left hand, and his eyes gleamed almost wildly.
"My God, Petrie!" he said, "am I fated always to come too late?"
My dreadful fears in that instant were confirmed. I seemed to feel my legs totter beneath me.
"Smith, you don't mean-"
"I do, Petrie!" His voice sounded very far away. "Fu-Manchu is here; and Eltham, God help him ... is his first victim!"
* * *
This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.
The Golden Scorpion linked the story lines developed in the Yellow Claw (1915) with Dr. Fu Manchu who appears but is not named. "He wore a plain yellow robe and had a little black cap on his head. His face, his wonderful evil face I can never forget, and his eyes — I fear you will think I exaggerate — but his eyes were green as emeralds!"
"Brood of the Witch Queen" is a 1918 supernatural novel by Arthur Henry Sarsfield Ward, known better under his pseudonym, Sax Rohmer. Sax Rohmer was a prolific eng novelist. He is best remembered for his series of novels featuring the master criminal Dr. Fu Manchu. The story deals with Robert Cairn and his suspicions of Antony Ferrara, the adopted son of an old friend and colleague of Robert's father, Dr Bruce Cairn, of infernal magic and supernatural influence. (Excerpt from Wikipedia)
Bat Wing is the first Paul Harley detective story. Harley is called on to investigate a mysterious case in the heart of London, involving voodoo, vampirism and macabre murder. This series is considered one of Rohmer's best outside his famous Dr. Fu Manchu series.
Sheila had her back against the wall when her family tried to force her to marry an awful old man. In a fit of rage, she hired a gigolo to act as her husband. She thought the gigolo needed money and did this for a living. Little did she know that he was nothing like that. One day, he pulled off his mask and revealed himself to be the world's top magnate. This marked the beginning of their love. He showered her with everything she could ever want. They were happy. However, unexpected circumstances soon posed a threat to their love. Would Sheila and her husband make it through the storm? Find out!
Book1 (Chapter 1~188, completed): “Please...come back to me, be my Luna again, Charlotte,” Hayden said. I sneered. “You don't even qualify to be my Omega. What makes you think I would want to be your Luna?” “Then let me be your slave,” the shameless mate who had rejected me begged. ------------------- I had been claimed and married to my mate, Hayden for three years, but everything changed when his brother died. He began to ignore me and get closer to his brother’s widow, Sofia. Everyone could see how much he favored Sofia over his own mate, me. I turned a blind eye and endured it all because he was my destined mate and I loved him so much. But Sofia framed me for causing her miscarriage and everyone blamed me for it, not to mention my mate. My mate forced me to kneel and apologize to that bitch who had tried many times to drive wedges between me and my mate, with the help of his sister, Milla. Hayden didn't even want to listen to my explanations. He gave me a choice - apologize or divorce. I would never apologize for something I didn't do and thus I chose divorce. No one knew I was actually the next-Alpha-in-line of one of the most powerful packs. After the divorce, I went back to my pack and take over my birthright - becoming a powerful Alpha and showing Hayden that he was nothing to me and my life was better off without him! ******************************* Book2( From chapter 189~287, completed): As the Alpha princess, I enjoy all the glory and wealth, but my heart only yearns for freedom and love. Much to my luck, I found my fated mate, Alpha Shawn Evander when I was nineteen. He is one the most eligible bachelors currently, but my parents, especially Dad is so against our mateship, he keeps urging me to break up with Shawn. Why should I break up with my fated mate? I love him too much and decided to make a bold choice - to marry him during my twentieth birthday party secretly. So, it should be a happy day, right? Nope. Imagine my shock when I saw my bestie and Shawn together, betraying me during what was supposed to be our wedding day! In the end, I didn’t get married to him and went to a bar to drown my sorrow when I stumbled across an Alpha who needed a mate to break his curse, and we decided to have a contract marriage between us. But when I went home and sobered up, I realized who that Alpha was - Alpha Maximillian Vestvertine, also known as the most ruthless and arrogant Alpha of all. However, I never ezxpect that this coldest Alpha would be so eagar to have me....
"Get undressed and wait for me in bed. Keep your legs open until I finish my shower," he commanded with the power of his Alpha status and as her mate. She wanted to resist. "Do you think I'm the same Luna you forced in the past? I refuse to submit to you. I won't let you touch me." He growled softly, feeling a hot desire for her. She was no longer the unattractive Luna he remembered - she was gorgeous. He wanted to devour her with his tongue. He pulled her close and pushed her onto the bed, licking the back of her ear, making her moan in pleasure. He whispered, "I won't touch your body. Just your p*ssy until you beg for more." He used to be next in line for Alpha and was under the control of his grandfather, the Alpha king. He had to accept mating with the woman he disliked the most - the daughter of one of the most powerful Alphas in the werewolf kingdom. If he didn't, he might lose his chance at being Alpha king after his grandfather's death. He thought he was mateless at the time. He didn't choose to mate with the unattractive woman, so he cheated on her day and night. But, one drunken night, he lost control and slept with her. Later, he forced her to break their mating bond. But, he discovered she was carrying his triplets. He forced her to be his mate again, or she wouldn't see her children again. Six years later, he was no longer weak. He was the Alpha king of werewolves.
Chloe was the second daughter of the Bishop family, she was the girl who had it all breathtaking looks, a foster father who loved her as much as his own biological daughter, and a fiance who was handsome and rich. But nothing was perfect in this world. It turned out she also had a foster mother and sister who could ruin everything she had. The night before the engagement party, her foster mother drugged her and plotted to send her to hooligans. Fortunately, Chloe went to the wrong room and spent a night with a stranger. It turned out that man was the CEO of America's top multinational group, who was only 29 but on the Forbes List. After having a one-night stand with her, he proposed, "Marry me, I will help you to take revenge."
Alcohol and heartbreak are definitely not a good combo.Too bad I learnt that a little too late. I’m Tessa Beckett and I painfully got dumped by my boyfriend of three years.That led me to getting drunk at a bar and having a one-night stand with a stranger.Before he would see me as a slut the next day,I paid him for the sex and deeply insulted his ability to please me. But this stranger turned out to be my new boss!
Three years ago, the Moore family opposed Charles Moore's choice to marry his beloved woman and selected Scarlett Riley as his bride. Charles didn't love her. In fact, he hated her. Not long after they got married, Scarlett received an offer from her dream university and jumped on it. Three years later, Charles's beloved woman fell terribly ill. In order to fulfill her last wish, he called Scarlett back and presented her with a divorce agreement. Scarlett was deeply hurt by Charles's abrupt decision, but she chose to let him go and agreed to sign the divorce papers. However, Charles seemed to delay the process deliberately, leaving Scarlett confused and frustrated. Now, Scarlett was trapped between the consequences of Charles's indecision. Would she be able to break free from him? Would Charles eventually come to his senses and face his true feelings?