The Perils of Pauline Part 21

Her weak hands beat upon the panels, helplessly, hopelessly. How should she know that there were two doors, locked and sealed beyond?

Her wild screams rang through the long pa.s.sage, through the dark, above the shuffle and beat and cursing of the staged fight.

In the dim light she could see the three Italians grappling with the other men. Baskinelli's voice called to her rea.s.suringly. It might well. Baskinelli was in no danger.

She placed her softly clothed shoulder to the door and strove to break it. She screamed again.

"Harry! Harry!"

Dull crashes answered. There was the crack and cleaving of splintered wood.

"Hold on! I'm here!" she heard.

She fell beside the door. Strong arms seized her. For an instant she felt that she was saved. But she looked up into the lowering face of a man with tilted mustachios. From the wide thick lips came threats and curses.

From the outer pa.s.sageway sounded the cras.h.i.+ng of the doors.

She let herself be lifted, then, with sudden exertion of her trained strength, she broke the grasp of the man.

The door fell open.

Harry, b.l.o.o.d.y and tattered, stood there--alone.

"Polly?"

"Oh--yes--where are the others? They'll kill you--run!" she cried.

He ran forward into the black corridor. A knife thrust, sheathed in silence, ripped his shoulder gave him his cue. He had one man down and trampled. But another was upon him and yet a third.

A sharp pain dulled the pulsing of his throat. He felt a tickle down his bared and swinging arm.

He fought blindly in the dark.

"Polly!" he panted.

There was no answer.

In the Joss House of the Golden Screens the two Chinamen, dazed with opium, set of purpose, were still arguing with the trembling priest.

The door fell open and a white woman--with bleeding hands--fell at their feet.

"Ha, she has come back!" cried one of the Chinese in his own tongue.

There was the sound of steps in the outer pa.s.sage.

"Quick--inside!" breathed the Chinaman, pointing to the den.

They lifted Pauline. The old priest stopped them.

"Not there--not there!" he cried. "Any one would look in there."

They dragged her back. The priest hurried to the outer door and locked it.

There was the blunt, battering thrust of a body against the door.

"Open, or I'll break it in!" yelled the voice of Harry.

The priest opened the door.

In deferential silence he saluted the battle grimed newcomer.

Battered, panting, bleeding, Harry lunged at the man, gripped him.

"Quick--where is she? You'll die like a spiked rat. Where?" he roared.

The two other Chinamen were kneeling before the Joss.

There was a moment's silence, then a strange sound--like a cry heard afar off.

Harry strode to the little pedestal where the suit of armor stood.

"Where is she?--or I'll rip this place to c.o.c.kles!" he thundered.

"We do not know what you mean," said the priest.

The two Chinamen began to jabber.

Other figures reeled from the room behind the curtains. But over all their clamor sounded again the faint cry--distant, but near.

In a flash Harry caught from the mailed glove the haft of the sword.

As he rushed across the room the Chinese withered away from him. There was a crash as the great sword fell upon one of the windows. Through the broken pane Harry shouted for help. His voice was like a clarion in the silent streets.

He turned in time. Three Chinamen, with drawn knives, were upon him.

He swung the unwieldy sword above his head. Its sweep saved him. He dashed at the Joss. Again he lifted the sword. A grasp and then a wail of fear sounded through the room.

He struck. The head of the statue thudded to the floor.

The Chinese rushed upon him. They were desperate now in the face of the violation of their G.o.d. But he was behind their G.o.d prying open the secret door to the hollow within the statue.

"It's all right, Polly," he said as he drew her gently forth.

He stood above her with his back to the wall swinging the sacred sword against the onslaught of fanatic men. They fell before him, but more came on.

His hands could hardly hold the mighty weapon. For more than half an hour he had been fighting. He was weakening but he braced himself and swung for the last time.

There came a hammering at the door. It crashed in. Police clubs whistled right and left. The Chinese fled into their secret lairs.