The Black Mask Magazine (Vol. 1, No. 5 - August 1920) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: detective
Publisher: Pro-distributors Publishing Company
Published: 1920-06-01T21:00:00+00:00

"Be seated!" she commanded.

He obeyed and as he sank on the chest she bent low — lower yet — until her jet-black eyes were on a level with his…

Tremaine, watching the strange performance from behind the screen, was beginning to grasp a tangible solution for Amber's condition. Hypnosis! This gold-robed woman exerted that power over her victims. He understood now the lassitude that he had felt when she bent over him in the cell.

She was speaking again — "Now — awaken!"

At her evocation the eyes of Lance Amber lost the glassy expression, became almost normal, and he lifted one thin white hand, passing it over his brow — as if to wipe away the remaining tangles of a nightmare.

The woman laughed again, alluringly and low. He got to his feet, staring at her.

"You, you again?" he said in the half drowsy voice of the recently awakened sleeper, "Good God!"

"And why should not I be here, beloved?"

Amber dropped on the chest, his haggard face falling in his hands, and the woman knelt, locking her white arms about him.

"Art thou not glad to see me, O Moon-brow?" she purred, "Am not I fair to look upon? Does not the sight of me stir in thee some flame of love?"

A sob broke from the man.

"Love you," he echoed fiercely, thrusting her away, "Knowing you to be what you are?"

She only laughed — that siren laugh.

"I am white like thee, O Moon-brow," she went on, "My mother was white — was from a great country beyond Tibet, called Russia. This I know, for the Lamas have told me of her, of her death here, in the monastery, just after my birth… O beloved, when I could have sent thee below with my white mummies I let thee remain here — for I knew that we were made for one another. Ah, Moon-brow, thou shalt be a king! Here I am called The Shining One — I talk with the gods! Neither the Dalai Lama or the Tashi Lama, nor that spineless fool at Urga, has so much power as I! And I offer to share this glory with thee! To be the consort of The Shining One! Does that not tempt thee?"

Again the man pushed her roughly away.

"Leave me alone to die!" he entreated piteously, "My God — love you! The touch of you is like that of a leper! You are unclean, foul, accursed, a creature damned!"

The fires of jet in her eyes rose. She laughed sharply. Her hands went to her throat and unclasped a necklace of pigeon-blood rubies — a thing that shone like threaded drops of fire.

"Ah, beloved, behold these!" she cried, extending the jewels to him; "In the treasure vaults of the Lamaserie there are gems more costly than these, jewels such as are rarely seen, and all are thine if—"

"Stop!" he fairly shrieked.

With a spring he got to his feet and snatched the necklace from her hand, hurling it to the floor where it broke, scattering in tiny pools of flame.

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