<h3 id="id01870" style="margin-top: 3em">CHAPTER XXXVIII</h3>
<h5 id="id01871">THE MONK'S PLAN</h5>
<p id="id01872" style="margin-top: 2em">"My inquiries in the Manuscript Room of the British Museum," said
Nayland Smith, his voice momentarily growing stronger and some of the
old fire creeping back into his eyes, "have proved entirely successful."</p>
<p id="id01873">Sir Lionel Barton, Dr. Hamilton, and myself hung upon every word; and
often I fond myself glancing at the old-fashioned clock on the
doctor's mantel-piece.</p>
<p id="id01874">"We had very definite proof," continued Smith, "of the fact that
Fu-Manchu and company were conversant with that elaborate system of
secret rooms and passages which forms a veritable labyrinth, in, about,
and beneath Graywater Park. Some of the passages we explored. That
Sir Lionel should be ignorant of the system was not strange,
considering that he had but recently inherited the property, and that
the former owner, his kinsman, regarded the secret as lost. A
starting-point was discovered, however, in the old work on haunted
manors unearthed in the library, as you remember. There was a
reference, in the chapter dealing with Graywater, so a certain monkish
manuscript said to repose in the national collection and to contain a
plan of these passages and stairways.</p>
<p id="id01875">"The Keeper of the Manuscripts at the Museum very courteously assisted
me in my inquiries, and the ancient parchment was placed in my hands.
Sure enough, it contained a carefully executed drawing of the hidden
ways of Graywater, the work of a monk in the distant days when
Graywater was a priory. This monk, I may add—a certain Brother Anselm—
afterwards became Abbot of Graywater."</p>
<p id="id01876">"Very interesting!" cried sir Lionel loudly; "very interesting indeed."</p>
<p id="id01877">"I copied the plan," resumed Smith, "with elaborate care. That labor,
unfortunately, was wasted, in part, at least. Then, in order to
confirm my suspicions on the point, I endeavored to ascertain if the
monk's MS. had been asked for at the Museum recently. The Keeper of
the Manuscripts could not recall that any student had handled the work,
prior to my own visit, during the past ten years.</p>
<p id="id01878">"This was disappointing, and I was tempted to conclude that Fu-Manchu
had blundered on to the secret in some other way, when the Assistant
Keeper of Manuscripts put in an appearance. From him I obtained
confirmation of my theory. Three months ago a Greek gentleman—possibly,
Sir Lionel, your late butler, Homopoulo—obtained permission to consult
the MS., claiming to be engaged upon a paper for some review or another.</p>
<p id="id01879">"At any rate, the fact was sufficient. Quite evidently, a servant of
Fu-Manchu had obtained a copy of the plan—and this within a day or
so of the death of Mr. Brangholme Burton—whose heir, Sir Lionel, you
were! I became daily impressed anew with the omniscience, the
incredible genius, of Dr. Fu-Manchu.</p>
<p id="id01880">"The scheme which we know of to compass the death, or captivity, of
our three selves and Kâramaneh was put into operation, and failed.
But, with its failure, the utility of the secret chambers was by no
means terminated. The local legend, according to which a passage
exists, linking Graywater and Monkswell, is confirmed by the monk's
plan."</p>
<p id="id01881">"What?" cried Sir Lionel, springing to his feet—"a passage between
the Park and the old tower! My dear sir, it's impossible! Such a
passage would have to pass under the River Starn! It's only a narrow
stream, I know, but——"</p>
<p id="id01882">"It <i>does</i>, or <i>did</i>, pass under the River Starn!" said Nayland Smith
coolly. "That it is still practicable I do not assert; what interests
me is the spot at which it terminates."</p>
<p id="id01883">He plunged his hand into the pocket of the light overcoat which he
wore over the borrowed suit of pyjamas in which the kindly Dr. Hamilton
had clothed him. He was seeking his pipe!</p>
<p id="id01884">"Have a cigar, Smith!" cried Sir Lionel, proffering his case—"if you
<i>must</i> smoke; although I think our medical friends frowning!"</p>
<p id="id01885">Nayland Smith took a cigar, bit off the end, and lighted up. He began
to surround himself with odorous clouds, to his evident satisfaction.</p>
<p id="id01886">"To resume," he said; "the Spanish priest who was persecuted at
Graywater in early Reformation days and whose tortured spirit is said
to haunt the Park, held the secret of this passage, and of the
subterranean chamber in Monkswell, to which it led. His confession—
which resulted in his death at the stake!—enabled the commissioners
to recover from his chamber a quantity of church ornaments. For these
facts I am indebted to the author of the work on haunted manors.</p>
<p id="id01887">"Our inquiry at this point touches upon things sinister and
incomprehensible. In a word, although the passage and a part of the
underground room are of unknown antiquity, it appears certain that
they were improved and enlarged by one of the abbots of Monkswell—at
a date much later than Brother Anselm's abbotship—and the place was
converted to a secret chapel——"</p>
<p id="id01888">"A <i>secret</i> chapel!" said Dr. Hamilton.</p>
<p id="id01889">"Exactly. This was at a time in English history when the horrible
cult of Asmodeus spread from the Rhine monasteries and gained
proselytes in many religious houses of England. In this secret chapel,
wretched Churchmen, seduced to the abominable views of the abbot,
celebrated the Black Mass!"</p>
<p id="id01890">"My God!" I whispered—"small wonder that the place is reputed to be
haunted!"</p>
<p id="id01891">"Small wonder," cried Nayland Smith, with all his old nervous vigor,
"that Dr. Fu-Manchu selected it as an ideal retreat in times of danger!"</p>
<p id="id01892">"What! the chapel?" roared Sir Lionel.</p>
<p id="id01893">"Beyond doubt! Well knowing the penalty of discovery, those old
devil-worshipers had chosen a temple from which they could escape in
an emergency. There is a short stair from the chamber into the cave
which, as you may know, exists in the cliff adjoining Monkswell."</p>
<p id="id01894">Smith's eyes were blazing now, and he was on his feet, pacing the
floor, an odd figure, with his bandaged skull and inadequate garments,
biting on the already extinguished cigar as though it had been a pipe.</p>
<p id="id01895">"Returning to our rooms, Petrie," he went on rapidly, "who should I run
into but Summers! You remember Summers, the Suez Canal pilot whom you
met at Ismailia two years ago? He brought the yacht through the Canal,
from Suez, on which I suspect Ki-Ming came to England. She is a big
boat—used to be on the Port Said and Jaffa route before a wealthy
Chinaman acquired her—through an Egyptian agent—for his personal use.</p>
<p id="id01896">"All the crews, Summers told me, were Asiatics, and little groups of
natives lined the Canal and performed obeisances as the vessel passed.
Undoubtedly they had that woman on board, Petrie, the Lady of the
Si-Fan, who escaped, together with Fu-Manchu, when we raided the
meeting in London! Like a fool I came racing back here without
advising you; and, all alone, my mind occupied with the tremendous
import of these discoveries, started, long after dusk, to walk to
Graywater Park."</p>
<p id="id01897">He shrugged his shoulders whimsically, and raised one hand to his
bandaged head.</p>
<p id="id01898">"Fu-Manchu employs weapons both of the future and of the past," he
said. "My movements had been watched, of course; I was mad. Some one,
probably a dacoit, laid me low with a ball of clay propelled form a
sling of the Ancient Persian pattern! I actually saw him … then saw,
and knew, no more!</p>
<p id="id01899">"Smith!" I cried—whilst Sir Lionel Barton and Dr. Hamilton stared at
one another, dumbfounded—"you think <i>he</i> is on the point of flying
from England——"</p>
<p id="id01900">"The Chinese yacht, <i>Chanak-Kampo,</i> is lying two miles off the coast
and in the sight of the tower of Monkswell!"</p>
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