He reached Fo-Hi, drew himself upright; the glittering blade
quivered ... and Fo-Hi divined his presence.
Uttering a short, guttural exclamation, he thrust Miska aside. She
staggered dazedly and fell prone upon the floor. The quivering blade
did not descend.
Fo-Hi drew himself rigidly upright, extending his hands, palms
downward, before him. He was exerting a superhuman effort. The breath
whistled through his nostrils. Chunda Lal, knife upraised, endeavored
to strike; but his arm seemed to have become incapable of movement
and to be held, helpless, aloft.
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.
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