Staring at the rigid figure before him, he began to pant like a man engaged in a wrestle for life.
Fo-Hi stretched his right arm outward, and with a gesture of hand and fingers beckoned to Chunda Lal to come before him.
And now, Miska, awakening as from a fevered dream, looked wildly about her, and then, serpentine, began to creep to the table upon which the keys were lying. Always watching the awful group of two, she rose slowly, snatched the keys and leapt across to the open window….
Chunda Lal, swollen veins standing out cord-like on his brow, his gaze set hypnotically upon the moving hand, dropped his knife and began to move in obedience to the will of Fo-Hi.
As he came finally face to face with the terrible Adept of Rache
Churan, Miska disappeared into the shadow of the balcony. Fo-Hi by
an imperious gesture commanded Chunda Lal to kneel and bow his head.
The Hindu, gasping, obeyed.
Thereupon Fo-Hi momentarily relaxed his giant concentration and almost staggered as he glared down at the kneeling man. But never was that dreadful gaze removed from Chunda Lal. And now the veiled man drew himself rigidly upright again and stepped backward until the fallen kukri lay at his feet. He spoke, "Chunda Lal!"
The Hindu rose, gazing before him with unseeing eyes. His forehead was wet with perspiration.
Fo-Hi pointed to the knife.
Chunda Lal, without removing his sightless gaze from the veiled face, stooped, groped until he found the knife and rose with it in his hand.
Back stepped Fo-Hi, and back, until he could touch the big table. He moved a brass switch—and a trap opened in the floor behind Chunda Lal. Fo-Hi raised his right hand, having the fingers tightly closed as if grasping the hilt of a knife. With his left hand he pointed to the trap. Again he spoke.