Having no means
of judging how long he had been insensible, Stuart found himself
wondering if the raid on the den of Ah-Fang-Fu had taken place hours
before, days earlier, or weeks ago.
Taking up a test-tube from a rack on the table, Fo-Hi held it near a
lamp and examined the contents--a few drops of colourless fluid. These
he poured into a curious long-necked yellow bottle. He began to speak,
but without looking at Stuart.
His diction was characteristic, resembling his carriage in that it was
slow and distinctive. He seemed deliberately to choose each word and
to give to it all its value, syllable by syllable. His English was
perfect to the verge of the pedantic; and his voice was metallic and
harsh, touching at time, when his words were vested with some subtle
or hidden significance, guttural depths which betrayed the Chinaman.
He possessed uncanny dignity as of tremendous intellect and conscious
power.
"I regret that you were so rash as to take part in last night's
abortive raid, Dr. Stuart," he said.
Stuart started. So he had been unconscious for many hour!
"Because of your professional acquirements at one time I had
contemplated removing you," continued the unemotional voice. "But I
rejoice to think that I failed. It would have been an error of
judgement. I have useful work for such men. You shall assist in the
extensive laboratories of my distinguished predecessor."
"Never!" snapped Stuart.
The man's callousness was so purposeful and deliberate that it awed.
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