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The Return of Dr. Fu Manchu



 
 CHAPTER XXIII. A CRY ON THE MOOR 
 
 CHAPTER
XXIV. STORY OF THE GABLES 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. THE
BELLS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. THE FIERY HAND 
 
 CHAPTER
XXVII. THE NIGHT OF THE RAID 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE SAMURAI'S SWORD 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. THE SIX
GATES 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. THE CALL OF THE EAST

 
 CHAPTER XXXI. "MY SHADOW LIES UPON YOU"

 
 CHAPTER XXXII. THE TRAGEDY 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE MUMMY
CHAPTER I. A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS
"When did you last hear from Nayland Smith?" asked my
visitor.
I paused, my hand on the syphon, reflecting for a moment.
"Two months ago," I said; "he's a poor correspondent and rather
soured, I fancy."
"What—a woman or something?"
"Some affair of that sort. He's such a reticent beggar, I really
know very little about it."
I placed a whisky and soda before the Rev. J. D. Eltham, also
sliding the tobacco jar nearer to his hand. The refined and sensitive
face of the clergy-man offered no indication of the truculent
character of the man. His scanty fair hair, already gray over the
temples, was silken and soft-looking; in appearance he was indeed
a typical English churchman; but in China he had been known as
"the fighting missionary," and had fully deserved the title. In fact,
this peaceful-looking gentleman had directly brought about the
Boxer Risings!
"You know," he said, in his clerical voice, but meanwhile
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