fell back to the elbows. He clutched at his head, and the black cap
fell behind him. He began to utter short, guttural cries; he swayed
backward--to the right--to the left then lurched forward right across
the cage. There he lay, writhing, for a moment, his baneful eyes
turned up, revealing the whites; and the great gray rats, released,
began leaping about the room. Two shot like gray streaks past the slim
figure in the doorway, one darted behind the chair to which I was
lashed, and the fourth ran all around against the wall . . .
Fu-Manchu, prostrate across the overturned cage, lay still, his
massive head sagging downward.

I experienced a mental repetition of my adventure in the earlier
evening--I was dropping, dropping, dropping into some bottomless pit
. . . warm arms were about my neck; and burning kisses upon my lips.



CHAPTER XXX

THE CALL OF THE EAST

I seemed to haul myself back out of the pit of unconsciousness by the
aid of two little hands which clasped my own. I uttered a sigh that
was almost a sob, and opened my eyes.

I was sitting in the big red-leathern armchair in my own study . . .
and a lovely but truly bizarre figure, in a harem dress, was kneeling
on the carpet at my feet; so that my first sight of the world was the
sweetest sight that the world had to offer me, the dark eyes of
Karamaneh, with tears trembling like jewels upon her lashes!