We laid him on the grass where it sloped down from the terrace.  Nayland Smith’s haggard face was terrible.  But the stark horror of the thing inspired him to that, which conceived earlier, had saved Denby.  Twisting suddenly to Eltham, he roared in a voice audible beyond the river: 

“Heavens! we are fools!  Loose the dog!”

“But the dog—­” I began.

Smith clapped his hand over my mouth.

“I know he’s crippled,” he whispered.  “But if anything human lurks there, the dog will lead us to it.  If a man is there, he will fly!  Why did we not think of it before.  Fools, fools!” He raised his voice again.  “Keep him on leash, Edwards.  He will lead us.”

The scheme succeeded.

Edwards barely had started on his errand when bells began ringing inside the house.

“Wait!” snapped Eltham, and rushed indoors.

A moment later he was out again, his eyes gleaming madly. 
“Above the moat,” he panted.  And we were off en masse
round the edge of the trees.

It was dark above the moat; but not so dark as to prevent our seeing a narrow ladder of thin bamboo joints and silken cord hanging by two hooks from the top of the twelve-foot wire fence.  There was no sound.

“He’s out!” screamed Eltham.  “Down the steps!”

We all ran our best and swiftest.  But Eltham outran us.  Like a fury he tore at bolts and bars, and like a fury sprang out into the road.  Straight and white it showed to the acclivity by the Roman ruin.  But no living thing moved upon it.  The distant baying of the dog was borne to our ears.

“Curse it! he’s crippled,” hissed Smith.  “Without him, as well pursue a shadow!”

A few hours later the shrubbery yielded up its secret, a simple one enough:  A big cask sunk in a pit, with a laurel shrub cunningly affixed to its movable lid, which was further disguised with tufts of grass.  A slender bamboo-jointed rod lay near the fence.  It had a hook on the top, and was evidently used for attaching the ladder.

“It was the end of this ladder which Miss Eltham saw,” said Smith, “as he trailed it behind him into the shrubbery when she interrupted him in her fathers room.  He and whomever he had with him doubtless slipped in during the daytime—­whilst Eltham was absent in London—­ bringing the prepared cask and all necessary implements with them.  They concealed themselves somewhere—­probably in the shrubbery—­ and during the night made the cache.  The excavated earth would be disposed of on the flower-beds; the dummy bush they probably had ready.  You see, the problem of getting in was never a big one.  But owing to the `defenses’ it was impossible (whilst Eltham was in residence at any rate) to get out after dark.  For Fu-Manchu’s purposes, then, a working-base inside Redmoat was essential.  His servant—­for he needed assistance—­ must have been in hiding somewhere outside; Heaven knows where!  During the day they could come or go by the gates, as we have already noted.”