“A torture chair,” explained Palermo suavely. “In China, it is used as a pillory. I advise you to remain quiet. Struggling will do you no good.”
Palermo and Hassan pushed the chair to the corner of the room. Harry found himself facing directly toward the tapestry.
“Chong shall see this,” Palermo murmured.
The evil smile appeared as Palermo lifted the top of a taboret and removed a small vial. He held the tiny bottle to Harry’s nostrils. A pungent odor manifested itself. Harry lapsed into unconsciousness.
Palermo uttered a call. The dwarfish Chong appeared. The man in the red robe went to the bronze image and moved it back into the wall. Scarcely had the mechanism closed the panel before the living Chong was in his place.
When Harry Vincent opened his eyes, a moment later, he saw no change in the room. His eyes, as they fell upon the image of Chong, still saw a statue of bronze.
The tapestries moved aside. They revealed a wide but shallow elevator which contained a wheeled stretcher.
Under a white sheet lay the form of Clyde Burke. Only the man’s face, pale as the cloth itself, was visible.
Hassan rolled the stretcher to the center of the room.
Clyde’s eyes were open and staring wide. They turned toward Harry. They seemed to plead, those eyes, as though they could not recognize the helplessness of the other man.