To this he ran; it
was unlocked; he opened it, stepped ahead... and was back again in the
cave of the dragon.
"Mon dieu!" he cried, "this is Chinese--quite Chinese!"
He stood looking about him, flashing the ray of light upon doors which
were opened and upon openings in the walls where properly there should
have been no doors.
"I am too late!" he muttered; "they had information of this and they
have 'unloaded.' That they intend to fly the country is proven by their
leaving Mrs. Leroux behind. Ah, nom d'un nom, the good God grant that
they have left also."...
Coincident with his thoughts of her, the voice of Helen Cumberly reached
his ears! He stood there quivering in every nerve, as: "Help!
Help!" followed by a choking, inarticulate cry, came, muffled, from
somewhere--he could not determine where.
But the voice was the voice of Helen Cumberly. He raised his left fist
and beat his brow as if to urge his brain to super-activity. Then,
leaping, he was off.
Door after door he threw open, crying, "Miss Cumberly! Miss Cumberly!
Where are you? Have courage! Help is here!"
But the silence remained unbroken--and always his wild search brought
him back to the accursed cave of the golden dragon. He began to grow
dizzy; he felt that his brain was bursting.
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