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The Quest of the Sacred Slipper | Sax Rohmer | |
At The Gate House |
Page 2 of 3 |
This was my first expedition of the kind; and now that my goal was actually in sight I became conscious of a sort of exultation hard to describe. My companion, on the contrary, seemed to have become icily cool. When next she spoke, her voice had a businesslike ring, which revealed the fact that she was no amateur at this class o work. "Wait here," she directed. "I am going to pass all around the house, and I will rejoin you." I could see her but dimly, and she moved off as silent as an Indian deer-stalker, leaving me alone there crouching at the extreme edge of the thicket. I looked out over a small wilderness of unkempt flower-beds; so much it was just possible to perceive. The plants in many instances had spread on to the pathways and contested survival with the flourishing weeds. All was wild - deserted - eerie. A sense of dampness assailed me, and I raised my eyes to the low-lying building wherein no light showed, no sign of life was evident. The nearer wing presented a verandah apparently overgrown by some climbing plant, the nature of which it was impossible to determine in the darkness. The zest for the nocturnal operation which temporarily had thrilled me succumbed now to loneliness. With keen anxiety I awaited the return of my more experienced accomplice. The situation was grotesque, utterly bizarre; but even my sense of humour could not save me from the growing dread which this seemingly deserted place poured into my heart. When upon the right I heard a faint rustling I started, and grasped the revolver in my pocket. "Not a sound!" came in Carneta's voice. "Keep just inside the bushes and come this way. There is something I want to show you." |
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The Quest of the Sacred Slipper Sax Rohmer |
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