nfidence, unsettled  too,  and
liable to be continually changing their plans, but most of them,  of
course,  have some balancing factor. Mocata gets all his imaginative
and  psychic qualities from the Moon, but his birthday is April 24th
which adds up to six, and six being the number of Venus, he is  very
strongly  influenced by that planet. Venus people are extremely  mag
netic.  They  attract  others  easily  and  are  usually  loved  and
worshipped  by  those under them, but very often they are  obstinate
and unyielding. It is that in his nature which balances the weakness
of the Moon and makes him so determined in carrying out his plans.'
  'What  do  I  come  under?" Rex asked with sudden  curiosity.  'My
names are so short that I'm generally known by all three.'
  Again  Tanith took the paper and quickly worked out the equivalent
of his name.

	R=2
	E=5
	X=5
	--- = 12
	V=6
	A=1
	N=5
	--- = 12
	R=2
	Y=1
	N=5
     --- = 8
          ---
           32 and 3+2=5

  She  looked at him sharply. 'Yes, I am not surprised.  Five  is  a
fortunate  and magic number which comes under Mercury.  Such  people
are  versatile  and  mercurial,  quick  in  thought  and  decisions,
impulsive  in  action and detest plodding work.  They  make  friends
easily  with every type and have a wonderful elasticity of character
which  can recover at once from any setback. Even though  I  do  not
know  you well, I am certain that all this is true of you. I  expect
you  are  a born speculator as well and every type of risk  attracts
you.'
  'That  certainly is so,' Rex grinned as she went on  thoughtfully:
'But  I  should have thought that there was a good bit  of  the  Sun
about you because you have such strong individuality and you are  so
definite in your views.'
  'I was born on the 19th of August if that gives you a line.'
  She  smiled.  'Yes, 19 is 1+9 which equals ten and 1+0  equals  1,
the  number of the Sun. So I was right, and it is that part  of  you
which I think attracts me so much. Sun and Moon people always get on
well together.'
  'I  don't  know  anything about that,' Rex said softly.  'But  I'm
dead sure I could never see too much of you.'
  She  lifted her eyes from his quickly as though almost  in  fright
and to break the pause that followed he asked: 'What number is Simon
associated with?'
  'He  was  born  under Saturn as we know only  too  well,  and  his
occult  number is certain to be the Saturrdan eight,' Tanith replied
promptly, scribbling the name and numbers on the paper.


           S=3
           I=1
           M=4
           O=7
           N=5
           --- = 20
           A=1
           R=2
           O=7
           N=5
           --- = 15
                 --
                 35 and 3+5=8

    'By  Jove!  That's queer,' Rex murmured as he saw  the  name
worked out quite simple to the number she had predicted.
    'He  is  a  typical number eight person too,' she  went  on.
'They  have deep, intense natures and are often lonely at  heart
because they are frequently misunderstood. Sometimes they play a
most  important  part  on  life's  stage  and  nearly  always  a
fatalistic  one.  They are almost fanatically loyal  to  persons
they  are  fond  of  or causes they take up,  and  carry  things
through  regardless  of making enemies. It is  not  a  fortunate
number  to  be  born  under as a rule, and such  people  usually
become great successes or great failures.'
    Rex  drew the paper towards him, and taking the pencil  from
her  began to work out for himself the numerical symbols  of  De
Richleau, Richard Eaton and Marie Lou.

                 R=2
                 I=1
  D=4            C=3
  E=5            H=5
  --- = 9        A=1            M=4
  R=2            R=2            A=1
  I=1            D=4            R=2
  C=3            --- = 18       I=1
  H=5            E=5            E=5
  L=3            A=1            --- = 13
  E=5            T=4            L=3
  A=1            O=7            O=7
  U=6            N=5            U=6
  --- = 26       --- = 22       --- = 16
        --            --              --
        35 = 8         40 = 4         29 = 11 = 2

  'This is amazing,' Tanith exclaimed when he had finished.  The
Duke  not  only  comes  under the eight like  Simon,  but  their
compound number-thirty-five-is the same as well. He should  have
immence  influence  with Simon through that  affinity,  just  as
Mocata  has  over  me, and the nine in his name  gives  him  the
additional qualities of the born leader, independence,  success,
courage and determination. If anyone in the world can save  your
friend,  that extraordinary combination of trength and  sympathy
will enable De Richleau to do so.'
  'But  d'you see that the names Richleau and Ryn boil  down  to
eight as well, linking us both with Simon. That's strange, isn't
it?'
  'Not altogether. Any numerologist who knew of your devotion to
each  other  would  expect to find some such  affinity  in  your
numbers.  You  will  see, too, that your other  friend,  Richard
Eaton, is a four person, which accounts for his sympathy towards
you.  The  eight  is formed by two halves or circles  and,  four
being  the half of eight, persons with those numbers will always
incline towards each other. Then his wife, like myself, is a two
which is again linked to all four of you because it is divisible
into eight.'
  Rex  nodded. 'It's the strangest mystery I've met up  with  in
the  whale  of a while. There isn't a single odd number  in  the
whole series, but tell me, would this combination of eights be a
good thing d'you reckon-or no?'
  'It is very, very potent,' she said slowly. '888 is the number
given to Our Lord by students of Occultism in his aspect as  the
Redeemer. Add them together and you get twenty-four. 2+4=6 which
is  the number of Venus, the representative of Love. That is the
complete opposite of 666 which Revelations give as the number of
the  Beast.  The  three sixes add to eighteen,  and  1+8-9,  the
symbol of Mars-De Richleau's secondary quality which makes him a
great  leader  and  fighter, but in its  pure  state  represents
Destruction, Force and War.'
  At  the  mention of War, Rex's whole mind was jerked from  the
quiet,  comfortable,  old-fashioned  inn  parlour  to  a  mental
picture  of De Richleau as he had stood only a few hours  before
with  the  light of dawn breaking over Stonehenge. He saw  again
the Duke's grey face and unnaturally bright eyes as he spoke  of
the  Talisman of Set; that terrible gateway out of Hell  through
which, if Mocata found it, those dread four horsemen would  come
riding,  invisible but all-powerful, to poison the  thoughts  of
peace-loving  people  and  manipulate  unscrupulous   statesmen,
influencing them to plunge Europe into fresh calamity.
  Not  only  had  they  to fight Mocata for Simon's  safety  and
Tanith's  as well but, murder though it might be to people  lack
ing  in  understanding, they had to kill him even if  they  were
forced to sacrifice themselves.
  With  sudden clarity Rex saw that Tanith's appeal  for  protec
tion  offered  a golden, opportunity to carry the war  into  the
enemy's  camp.  She was so certain that Mocata would  appear  to
claim  her,  and  De Richleau had stated positively  that  while
daylight lasted the Satanist was no more powerful than any other
thug.
  'Why,'  Rex  thought,  with a quick tightening  of  his  great
muscles,  'should he not seize Mocata by force when he  arrived;
then send for the Duke to decide what they should do with him.'
  Only  one  difficulty seemed to stand in  the  way.  He  could
hardly  attack a visitor and hold him prisoner in The  Pride  of
Peacocks.'  Mr.  Wilkes  might object to  that.  But  apparently
Mocata  could find Tanith with equal ease wherever she  was,  so
she  must be got out of the inn to some place where the business
could be done without interference.
  For  a moment the thought of Cardinals Folly entered his  mind
again, but if he once took Tanith there, they could hardly  turn
her  out later on, and she might become a highly dangerous focus
in  the  coming night; besides, Mocata might not care to risk  a
visit  to the house in daylight with the odds so heavily against
him, and that would ruin the whole plan. Then he remembered  the
woods  at  the bottom of the garden behind the inn. If  he  took
Tanith  there and Mocata did turn up he would have  a  perfectly
free  hand in dealing with him. He glanced across at Tanith  and
suggested casually: 'What about a little stroll?'
  She shook her fair head, and lay back with half-closed eyes in
the  arm-chair. 'I would love to, but I am so terribly tired.  I
had no proper sleep you know last night.'
  He  nodded. 'We didn't get much either. We were sitting around
Stonehenge  the best part of the time till dawn. After  that  we
went  into Amesbury where the Duke took a room. The people there
must have thought us a queer party-one room for three people and
beds  being specially shifted into it at half-past seven in  the
morning, but he was insistent that we shouldn't leave Simon  for
a  second.  So we had about four hours' shut-eye on those  three
beds,  all  tied together by our wrists and ankles; but  it's  a
glorious afternoon and the woods round here are just lovely  now
it's  May.' 'If you like,' She rose sleepily. 'I dare not.go  to
sleep  in  anycase. You mustn't let me until to-morrow  morning.
After midnight it will be May 2nd, the mystic two again you see,
and  my  birthday. So during the dark hours tonight I  shall  be
passing  into my fatal day. It may be good or evil, but in  such
circumstances it is almost certain to bring some crisis  in  rny
life, and I'm afraid, Rex, terribly afraid.'
  He  drew  her  arm protectively through his and  led  her  out
through the back door into the pleasant garden which boasted two
large,  gay archery targets, a pastime that Jeremiah Wilkes  had
seen  fit  to  institute for the amusement of the local  gentry,
deriving considerable profit therefrom when they bet each  other
numerous  rounds of drinks upon their prowess with the  six-foot
bow.
  A  deep border of dark wallflowers sent out their heady  scent
at the farther end of the lawn and beyond them the garden opened
on to a natural wooded glade. A small stream marked the boundary
of  Mr. Wilkes' domain and when they reached it, Rex passed  his
arm  round  Tanith's body, lifted her before she could  protest,
and  with one spring of his long legs cleared the brook. She did
not  struggle from his grasp, but looked up at him curiously  as
she lay placid in his arms.
  'You  must  be very strong,' she said. 'Most men  can  lift  a
woman, but it can't be easy to jump a five-foot brook with one.'
  'I'm  strong enough,' he smiled into her face, not  attempting
to  put  her  down. 'Strong enough for both of us.  You  needn't
worry,' Then, still carrying her in his arms, he walked on  into
the  depths of the wood until the fresh, green beech  trees  hid
them from the windows of the inn.
  'You will get awfully tired,' she said lazily.
  'Not me,' he declared, shaking his head. 'You may be tall, but
you're  only  a featherweight. I could carry you  a  mile  if  I
wanted, and it wouldn't hurt me any.'
  'You needn't,' she smiled up at him. 'You can put me down  now
and  we'll sit under the trees. It's lovely here. You were quite
right-much nicer than the inn.'
  He laid her down very gently on a sloping bank, but instead of
rising,  knelt above her with one arm still about her  shoulders
and  looked down into her eyes. 'You love me,' he said suddenly.
'Don't you?'
  'Yes,'  she  confessed with troubled shadows brooding  in  her
golden eyes. 'I do. But you mustn't love me, Rex. You know  what
I  told  you  yesterday.  I'm going to die.  I'm  going  to  die
soon-before the year is out.'
  'You're  not,'  he  said, almost fiercely. 'We'll  break  this
devil Mocata-De Richleau will. I'm certain.'
  'But,  my  dear, it's nothing to do with him,'  she  protested
sadly.  'It's just Fate, and you haven't known me long, so  it's
not too late yet for you to keep a hold on yourself, You mustn't
love  me,  because if you do, it will make you terribly  unhappy
when I die.'
  'You're  not going to die,' he repeated, and then  he  laughed
suddenly,  boyishly, ail his mercurial nature rising  to  dispel
such  gloomy  thoughts.  'If  we both  die  tomorrow,'  he  said
suddenly, 'we've still got today, and I love you, Tanith. That's
all there is to it.'
  Her  arms crept up about his neck and with sudden strength she
kissed him on his mouth.
  He  grabbed  her then, his lips seeking hers again and  again,
while he muttered little phrases of endearment, pouring out  all
the  agony of anxiety that he had felt for her during  the  past
night  and the long run from Amesbury in the morning. She  clung
to  him, laughing a little hysterically although she was not far
from  tears. This strange new happiness was overwhelming to her,
flooding her whole being now with a desperate desire to live; to
put  behind her those nightmare dreams from which she had  woken
shuddering  in  the past months at visions of herself  torn  and
bleeding,  the  victim  of some horrible  railway  accident,  or
trapped  upon  the  top  storey of a blazing  building  with  no
alternative but to leap into the street below. For a  moment  it
almost  seemed  to her that no real foundation existed  for  the
dread  which  had haunted her since childhood.  She  was  young,
healthy  and full of life. Why should she not enjoy to the  full
all  the  normal pleasures of life with this strong,  merry-eyed
man-who had come so suddenly into her existence.
  Again  and  again  he assured her that all those  thoughts  of
fatality being certain to overtake her were absurd. He told  her
that   once  she  was  out  of  Europe  she  would  see   things
differently; the menace of the old superstition-ridden countries
would drop away and that, in his lovely old home in the southern
states, they would be able to laugh at Fate together.
  Tanith did not really believe him. Her habit of mind had grown
so  strongly upon her; but she could not bring herself to  argue
against  his happy auguries, or spoil those moments of  glorious
delight as they both confessed their passion for each other.
  As he held her in his arms a marvellous languor began to steal
through all her limbs. 'Rex,' she said softly. 'I'm utterly done
in  with this on top of all the rest. I haven't slept for nearly
thirty-six hours. I ought not to now, but I'll never be able  to
stay  awake  tonight unless I do. No harm can come to  me  while
you're with me, can it?'
  'No,'  he said huskily. 'Neither man nor devil shall harm  you
while I'm around. You poor sweet, you must be just about at  the
end. of your tether. Go to sleep now-just as you are.'
  With  a  little sigh she turned over, nestling her  fair  head
into the crook of his arm, where he sat with his back propped up
against a tree-trunk. In another moment she was sound asleep.
  The afternoon drew into evening. Rex's arms and legs were cold
and  stiff, but he would not move for fear of waking her. A  new
anxiety began to trouble him. Mocata had not appeared, and  what
would they think had become of him at Cardinals Folly? Marie Lou
knew  he had gone to the inn, and they would probably have  rung
up  by  now.  But, like a fool, he had neglected  to  leave  any
message for them.
  The shadows fell, but still there was no sign of Mocata, and
the imps of doubt once more began to fill Rex's mind with
horrible speculations as to the truth of Tanith's story. Had she
consciously or unconsciously lured him from Simon's side on
purpose? Simon would be safe enough with Richard and Marie Lou,
and De Richleau had promised to rejoin them before dusk-but
perhaps Mocata was plotting some evil to prevent the Duke's
return. If that were so-Rex shivered slightly at the
thought-Richard knew nothing of those mysterious protective
barriers with which it would be so necessary to surround Simon
in the coming night-and he, who at least knew what had been done
the night before-would be absent. By his desertion of his post
poor Simon might fall an easy prey to the malefic influence of
the Satanist.
  He thought more than once of rousing Tanith, but she looked so
peaceful,  so  happy,  so  lovely there,  breathing  gently  and
resting  in his strong arms with all her limbs relaxed  that  he
could  not bring himself to do it. The shadows lengthened, night
drew  on,  and at last darkness fell with Tanith still sleeping.
The  night  of  the ordeal had come and they were alone  in  the
forest.


                               24

                 The Scepticism of Richard Eaton

  At  a  quarter  to six, De Richleau arrived back at  Cardinals
Folly and Richard, meeting him in the hall, told him of Mocata's
visit.
  'I  am  not altogether surprised,' the Duke admitted sombrely.
'He  must  be pretty desperate to come here in daylight  on  the
chance  of  seeing Simon, but of course, he is  working  against
time-now. Did he threaten to return?'
  'Yes.'   Richard  launched  into  full  particulars   of   the
Satanist's  attempt on Marie Lou and the conversation  that  had
followed. As he talked he studied De Richleau's face, struck  by
his anxious harassed expression. Never before had he thought  of
the  Duke as old, but now for the first time it was brought home
to  him that De Richleau must be nearly double his own age.  And
this  evening he showed it. He seemed somehow to have shrunk  in
stature, but perhaps that was because he was standing with  bent
shoulders  as  though some invisible load was borne  upon  them.
Richard was so impressed by that tired, lined face that he found
himself ending quite seriously: 'Do you really think he can work
some devilry tonight?'
  De  Richleau  nodded.  'I am certain of it,  and  I'm  worried
Richard. My luck was out today. Father Brandon, whom I  went  to
see,  was unfortunately away. He has a great knowledge  of  this
terrible  "other world" that we are up against, and  knowing  me
well,  would have helped us, but the young priest I saw  in  his
place  would not entrust me with the Host, nor could I  persuade
him  to  come  with  it himself, and that is  the  only  certain
protection  against the sort of thing Mocata  may  send  against
us.'
  'We'll manage somehow,' Richard smiled, trying to cheer him.
  'Yes, we've got to.' A note of the old determination came into
De  Richleau's voice. 'Since the Church cannot help us  we  must
rely upon my knowledge of Esoteric formulas. Fortunately, I have
the most important aids with me already, but I should be glad if
you  would  se-rad  down  to  the village  blacksmith  for  five
horseshoes.  Tell  whoever you send, that  they  must  be  brand
new-that is essential.'
  At   this  apparently  childish  request  for  horseshoes  all
Richard's  scepticism welled up with renewed force, but  he  con
cealed  it with his usual tact and agreed readily enough.  Then,
the  mention of the village having reminded him of Rex, he  told
the Duke how their friend had been called away to the inn.
  De  Richleau's  face fell suddenly. 'I thought  Rex  had  more
sense!' he exclaimed bitterly. 'We must telephone at once.'
  Richard got on to Mr. Wilkes, but the landlord could give them
little  information. A lady had arrived at about three, and  the
American  gentleman had joined her shortly after. Then they  had
gone out into the garden and he had seen nothing of them since.
  De  Richleau shrugged angrily. 'The young fool! I should  have
thought that he would have'seen enough of this horror by now  to
realise  the danger of going off with that young woman.  It's  a
hundred  to one that she is Mocata's puppet if nothing  else.  I
only  pray to God that he turns up again before nightfall. Where
is Simon now?'
  'With  Marie  Lou. They are upstairs in the nursery  I  think-
watching Fleur bathed and put to bed.'
  'Good.  Let  us go up then. Fleur can help us very greatly  in
protecting him tonight.'
  'Fleur!' exclaimed Richard in amazement.
  The  Duke nodded. 'The prayers of a virgin woman are amazingly
powerful  in such instances, and the younger she is the stronger
her  vibrations. You see, a little child like Fleur who  is  old
enough  to  pray,  but absolutely unsoiled in any  way,  is  the
nearest  that  any human being can get to absolute  purity.  You
will remember the words of Our Lord: "Except ye become as little
children  ye  shall not enter into the Kingdom of  Heaven."  You
have no objection I take it?'
  'None,'  agreed  Richard quickly. 'Saying a prayer  for  Simon
cannot  possibly harm the child in any way. We'll go up  through
the library.'
  Seven  sides of the great octagonal room were covered  ceiling
high  with books and the eighth consisted of wide trench windows
through  which  half-a-dozen stone  steps,  leading  up  to  the
terrace, could be seen and beyond, a portion of the garden.
  Richard led the way to one of the book-lined walls and pressed
the gilded cardinal's hat upon a morocco binding. A low doorway,
masked by dummy bookbacks, swung open disclosing a narrow spiral
stairway  hewn  out of the solid wall. They ascended  the  stone
steps  and  a moment later entered Fleur's nursery on the  floor
above, through a sliding panel in the wall.
  When  they arrived the nursery was empty, but in the  bathroom
beyond  they  found  Simon, with Nanny's apron  tied  about  his
waist,  quite solemnly bathing Fleur while Marie Lou sat on  the
edge of the bath and chortled with laughter.
  It  was an operation which Simon performed on every visit that
he had made to Cardinals Folly so Fleur was used to the business
and  regarded  it as a definite treat; but this tubbing  of  his
friend's  child  was  a privilege which De  Richleau  had  never
claimed,  and  as he entered Fleur suddenly exhibited  signs  of
maidenly modesty surprising in one so young.
  'Oh,  Mummy,'  she  exclaimed. 'He mussent see  me,  muss  he,
'cause he's a man.' On which the whole party gave way to  a  fit
of laughter.
  'Sen'  him  away!' yelled the excited Fleur, standing  up  and
clutching an enormous bath sponge to her chest.
  De  Richleau's firm mouth twitched with his old humour, as  he
apologised  most  gravely  and backed into  the  nursery  beside
Richard.  A  few minutes later the others joined them,  and  the
Duke held a hurried conversation in whispers with Marie Lou.
  'Of  course,'  she said. 'If it will help, do  just  what  you
think. I will get rid of Nanny for a few minutes.'
  Walking  over, he smiled down at Fleur. 'Does Mummy watch  you
say your prayers every night?' he asked gently.
  'Oh, yes,' she lisped. 'And you shall all hear me now.'
  He smiled again. 'Have you ever heard her say hers?'
  Fleur thought hard for a moment. 'No,' she shook her dark head
and  the  big blue eyes looked up at him seriously. 'Mummy  says
her prayers to Daddy when I'se asleep.'
  He  noddedy  quietly. 'Well, we're all going to  say  them  to
gether tonight.'
  'Ooo,'  cooed  Fleur. 'Lovely. It'll be just as  though  we'se
playing a new game, won't it?'
  'Not a game, dearest,' interjected Marie Lou quietly, 'Because
prayers are serious, and we mean them.'
  'Yes,  we mean them very much tonight, but we could all  kneel
down in a circle couldn't we and put Uncle Simon in the middle?'
  'Jus' like kiss-in-the-ring,' added Fleur.
  'That's right,' the Duke agreed, 'or Postman's Knock. And  you
shall  be the postman. But this is very serious, and instead  of
touching  him  on  the shoulder, you must  hold  his  hand  very
tight.'
  They all knelt down then and Fleur extended her pudgy palm  to
Simon, but the Duke gently laid his hand on her shoulder.  'No,'
he whispered. 'Your left hand, my angel, in Uncle Simon's right.
You  shall  say your prayers first, just as you always  do,  and
then I shall say one for all of us afterwards.'
  The  first few lines of the Our Father came tumbling out  from
the child's lips in a little breathless spate as they knelt with
bowed  heads and closed eyes. Then there was a short hesitation,
a  prompting  whisper from Marie Lou, and an equally  breathless
ending.  After that, the little personal supplication for  Mummy
and  Daddy and Uncle Simon and Uncle Rex and Uncle Greyeyes  and
dear Nanny were hurried through with considerably more gusto.
  'Now,' whispered De Richleau. 'I want you to repeat everything
I  say  word  for word after me,' and in a low, clear  voice  he
offered up an entreaty that the Father of All would forgive  His
servants  their  sins and strengthen them to resist  temptation,
keeping  at  bay  by His limitless power all  evil  things  that
walked  in  darkness, and bringing them safely by  His  especial
mercy to see again the glory of the morning light.
  When  all  was done and Fleur, tucked up and kissed,  left  be
tween  Mr. Edward Bear and Golliwog, the others filed downstairs
to Marie Lou's cosy sitting-room.
  De  Richleau was worried about Rex, but a further 'phone  call
to  the  inn failed to elicit any later information. He had  not
returned,  and  they  sat  round  silently,  a  little  subdued.
Richard,  vaguely miserable because it was sherry time  and  the
Duke  had  once  again  firmly prohibited the  drinking  of  any
alcohol, asked at length: 'Well, what do you wish us to do now?'
  'We  should  have  a light supper fairly early,'  De  Richleau
announced. 'And after, I should like you to make it quite  clear
to Malin that none of the servants are to come into this wing of
the  house until tomorrow morning. Say, if you like, that  I  am
going  to conduct some all-night experiments with a new wireless
or  television  apparatus, but in no circumstances  must  we  be
disturbed or any doors opened and shut.'
  'Hadn't  we . . . er . . . better disconnect the telephone  as
well?'  Simon  hazarded. 'In case it rings after  we've  settled
down.'
  'Yes, with Richard's permission I will attend to that myself.'
  'Do,  if  you  like,  and I'll see to the  servants,'  Richard
agreed placidly. 'But what do you call a light supper?'
  'Just  enough to keep up our strength. A little  fish  if  you
have  it.  If not eggs will do, with vegetables or a  salad  and
some fruit, but no meat or game and, of course, no wine.'
  Richard  grunted. 'That sounds a jolly dinner I  must  say.  I
suppose  you wouldn't like to shave my head as well, or  get  us
all  to don hair shirts if we could find them. I'm hungry  as  a
hunter, and owing to your telegram, we had no lunch.'
  The  Duke  smiled tolerantly. 'I am sorry, Richard,  but  this
thing  is deadly serious. I am afraid you haven't realised quite
how  serious yet. If you had seen what Rex and I did last night,
I'm  certain  that you wouldn't breathe a word of protest  about
these  small discomforts, and realise at once that I  am  acting
for the best.'
  'No,'  Richard confessed. 'Quite frankly, I find it very diffi
cult  to  believe that we haven't all gone bug-house  with  this
talk  of  witches  and  wizards and magic and  what-not  at  the
present day.'
  'Yet you saw Mocata yourself this afternoon.'
  'I  saw  an  unpleasant pasty-faced intruder I agree,  but  to
credit  him with all the powers that you suggest is rather  more
than I can stomach at the moment.'
  'Oh,  Richard!' Marie Lou broke in. 'Greyeyes is  right.  That
man  is  horrible.  And to say that people  do  not  believe  in
witches at the present day is absurd. Everybody knows that there
are witches just as there have always been.'
  'Eh!' Richard looked at his lovely wife in quick surprise.
  'Have  you caught this nonsense from the others already?  I've
never heard you air this belief before.'
  'Of course not,' she said a little sharply. 'It is unlucky  to
talk  of such things, but one knows about them all the same.  Of
witches in Siberia I could tell you much-things that I have seen
with my own eyes.'
  'Tell  us, Marie Lou,' urged the Duke. He felt that  in  their
present  situation scepticism might prove highly  dangerous.  If
Richard  did not believe in the powers that threatened them,  he
might  relax  in following out the instructions  for  their  pro
tection and commit some casual carelessness, bringing, possibly,
a terrible danger upon them all. He knew how very highly Richard
esteemed his wife's sound common sense. It was far better to let
her convince him than to press arguments on Richard himself.
  'There was a witch in Romanovsk,' Marie Lou proceeded. 'An old
woman  who  lived alone in a house just outside the village.  No
one,  not  even  the  Red Guards, with all their  bluster  about
having  liquidated  God and the Devil, would  pass  her  cottage
alone  at night. In Russia there are many such and one in nearly
every  village. You would call her a wise woman as well perhaps,
for she could cure people of many sicknesses and I have seen her
stop  the  flow of blood from a bad wound almost instantly.  The
village girls used to go to her to have their fortunes told and,
when they could afford it, to buy charms of philtres to make the
young  men  they liked fall in love with them. Often, too,  they
would go back again afterwards when they became pregnant and buy
the  drugs  which would secure their release from  that  unhappy
situation.  But she was greatly feared, for everyone  knew  that
she  could also put a blight on crops and send a murrain on  the
cattle  of those who displeased her. It was even whispered  that
she  could  cause men and women to sicken and die if  any  enemy
paid her a high enough price to make it worth her while.'
  'If  that is so I wonder they didn't lynch her,' said  Richard
quietly.
  'They  did in the end. They would not have dared to  do.  that
themselves. But a farmer whom she had inflicted with a plague of
lice appealed to the local commissar and he went with twenty men
to  her house one day. All the villagers and I among them-for  I
was only a little giri then and naturally curious-went with them
in  a frightened crowd hanging well behind. They brought the old
woman  out and examined her, and having proved she was a  witch,
the commissar had her shot against the cottage wall.'
  'How did they prove it?' Richard asked sceptically
  'Why-because she had the marks of course.'
  'What marks?'
  'When  they stripped her they found that she had a teat  under
her left arm, and that is a certain sign.'
  De  Richleau nodded. To feed her familiar with, of course. Was
it a cat?'
  Marie  Lou shook her head. 'No. In this case, it was  a  great
big fat toad that she used to keep in a little cage.'
  'Oh,  come!'  Richard  protested.  'This  is  fantastic.  They
slaughtered the poor old woman because she had some malformation
and kept an unusual pet.'
  'No,  no,' Marie Lou assured him. 'They found the Devil's mark
on  her thigh and they swam her in the village pond. It was very
horrible, but it was all quite conclusive.'
  The  Devil's  mark!' interjected Simon suddenly,  'I've  never
heard of that,' and the Duke answered promptly:
  'It  is  believed that the Devil or his representative touches
these people at their baptism during some Satanic orgy and  that
spot  is  for ever afterwards free from pain. In the  old  witch
trials,  they  used  to hunt for it by sticking  pins  into  the
suspected person because the place does not differ in appearance
from any other portion of the body.'
  Marie  Lou nodded her curly head. That's right. They  bandaged
this old woman's eyes so that she could not see what part of her
they were sticking the pin into and then they began to prick her
gently in first one place and then another. Of course she  cried
out each time the pin went in, but after about twenty cries, the
head  man of the village pushed the pin into her left thigh  and
she  didn't  make a sound. He took it out then and stuck  it  in
again, but still she did not cry out at all so he pushed  it  in
right up to the head, and she didn't know he'd even touched her.
So  you  see, everyone was quite satisfied then that she  was  a
witch.'
  'Well,  you may have been,' Richard said slowly. 'It  seems  a
horribly barbarous affair in any case. I dare say the old  woman
deserved  all she got, but it's pretty queer evidence  to  shoot
anyone on.'
  'Er  .  . . Richard . . .' Simon leaned forward suddenly.  'Do
you believe in curses?'
  'What-the old bell and book business! Not much. Why? '
  'Because  the  actual working of a curse is  evidence  of  the
supernatural.'
  They're mostly old wives' tales of coincidences I think.'
  'How about the Mackintosh of Moy?'
  'Oh, Scotland is riddled with that sort of thing. But what  is
supposed to have happened to the Mackintosh?'
  'Well, this was in seventeen something,' Simon replied slowly.
They story goes that he was present at a witch burning or jilted
one-I forget exactly. Anyhow she put a curse on him and it  went
like this:
  "Mackintosh, Mackintosh, Mackintosh of Moy If you ever have  a
son he shall never have a boy." '
  Richard smiled. 'And what happened then?'
  'Well, whether the story's true or not I can't say, but it's a
fact  that the Chieftainship of the Clan has gone all  over  the
shop ever since. Look it up in the records of the Clans if.  you
doubt me.'
  'My  dear  chap,  you'll have to produce  something  far  more
concrete than that to convince me.'
  'All  right,' Marie Lou gazed at him steadily out of her large
blue eyes. 'You know very little about such things, Richard, but
in  Russia  people are much closer to nature and everyone  there
still  accepts the supernatural and diabolic possession as  part
of  ordinary  life. Only about a year before you brought  me  to
England  they  caught a were-wolf in a village less  than  fifty
miles from where I lived.
  He  moved  over  to the sofa and, taking her hand,  patted  it
gently.  'Surely, darling, you don't really ask  me  to  believe
that  a man can actually turn into a beast-leave his bed in  the
middle of the night to go out hunting-then return and go to  his
work in the morning as a normal man again?'
  'Certainly,' Marie Lou nodded solemnly. 'Wolves, as you  know,
nearly  always hunt in packs, but that part of the  country  had
been  troubled for months by a lone wolf which seemed  possessed
of  far  more than normal cunning. It killed sheep and dogs  and
two young children. Then it killed an old woman.
  She  was  found with her throat bitten out, but she  had  been
ravished  too, so that's how they knew that it must  be  a  were
wolf.  At  last it attacked a woodman and he wounded it  in  the
shoulder  with  his axe. Next day a wretched half-imbecile  crea
ture, a sort of village idiot, died suddenly, and when the women
went  to prepare his body for burial they found that he had died
from loss of blood and that there was a great wound in his right
shoulder just where the woodman had struck the wolf. After  that
there  were no other cases of slaughtered sheep or people  being
done to death. So it was quite clear that he was the were-wolf.'
  Richard  looked  thoughtful  for a  moment.  'Of  course,'  he
remarked,  'the  man  may have done all  that  without  actually
changing his shape at all. If anyone is bitten by a mad dog  and
gets  hydrophobia, they bark, howl, gnash their teeth and behave
just  as though they were dogs and certainly believe at the time
that  they are. Lycanthropy, of which this poor devil  seems  to
have  been  the  victim, may be some rare disease  of  the  same
kind.'
  Marie  Lou shrugged lightly and stood up. 'Well, if you  won't
believe  me-there it is. I don't know enough to argue with  you,
only what I believe myself, so I shall go and order supper.'
  As the door closed behind her the Duke said quietly: 'That may
be  a  possible explanation, Richard, but there is  an  enormous
mass  of  evidence  in  the jurisprudence of  every  country  to
suggest that actual shape shifting does occur at times. The form
varies  of  course. In Greece it is often of the were-boar  that
one  hears. In Africa of the were-hyena and were-leopard.  China
has  the  were-fox; India the were-tiger; and  Egypt  the  were-
jackal. But even as near home as Surrey I could introduce you to
a  friend  of  mine,  a doctor who practices among  the  country
people, who will vouch for it that the older cottagers are still
unshakable  in their beliefs that certain people are were-hares,
and have power to change their shape at particular phases of the
moon.'
  'If  you  really  believe  these fantastic  stories,'  Richard
smiled a little grimly, 'perhaps you can give me some reasonable
explanation as to what makes such things possible.'
  'By  all means.' De Richleau hoisted himself out of his  chair
and  began  to  pace softly up and down the fine,  silk  Persian
prayer  rug  before the fireplace while he expounded  again  the
Esoteric doctrine just as he had to Rex two nights before.
  Simon and Richard listened in silence until the Duke spoke  of
the  eternal fight which, hidden from human eyes, has been waged
from  time immemorial between the Powers of Light and the Powers
of  Darkness.  Then  the  latter, his  serious  interest  really
aroused for the first time, exclaimed:
  'Surely  you  are  proclaiming  the  Manichaean  heresy?   The
Manichees  believed in the Two Principals, Light  and  Darkness,
and  the  Three Moments, Past, Present and Future.  They  taught
that in the Past Light and Darkness had been separate; then that
Darkness invaded Light and became mingled with it, creating  the
Present  and this world in which evil is mixed with  good.  They
preached the practice of astheticism as the means of freeing the
light  imprisoned in human clay so that in some  distant  Future
Light and Darkness might be completely separated again.'
  The  Duke's  lean  face lit with a quick smile.  'Exactly,  my
friend I The Manichees had a credo to that effect.
  "Day  by  day diminishes The number of Soul below As they  are
distilled and mount above"
  The  basis  of  the belief is far, far older of  course,  pre-
Egyptian  at  the  least, but where before it  was  a  jealously
guarded mystery the Persian Mani proclaimed it to the world.'
  'It became a serious rival to Christianity at one time, didn't
it?'
  'Um,' Simon took up the argument. 'And it survived despite the
most  terrible persecution by the Christians. Mani was crucified
in  the third century after Christ and, by their own creed,  his
followers  were not allowed to enlist converts. Yet  somehow  it
spread  in secret. The Albigenses followed it in Southern France
in  the twelfth century until they were stamped out. Then in the
thirteenth,  a  thousand  years after  Mani's  death,  it  swept
Bohemia. A form of it was still practised there by certain sects
as  late  as  the  1840's and even today  many  thinking  people
scattered all over the world believe that it holds the  core  of
the only true religion.'
  'Yes,  I  can  understand that,' Richard agreed,  'Brahminism,
Budism,  Taoism,  all the great philosophers which  have  passed
beyond  the ordinary limited religions with a personal  God  are
connected  up  with  the Prana, Light, and  the  Universal  Life
Stream,  but  that is a very different matter to  asking  me  to
believe in were-wolves and witches.'
  They  only  came  into the discussion because they  illustrate
certain  manifestations of supernatural Evil,' De  Richleau  pro
tested;  'just as the appearance of wounds similar to  those  of
Christ upon the Cross in the flesh of exceptionally pious people
may be taken as evidence for the existence of supernatural Good.
Ernminent surgeons have testified again and again that  stigmata
are  not due to trickery. It is a changing of the material  body
by  the  holy  saints in their endeavour to approximate  to  its
highest  form,  that of Our Lord, so, I contend,  base  natures,
with  the  assistance  of the Power of Darkness,  may  at  times
succeed  in altering their form to that of were-beasts.  Whether
they change their shape entirely it is impossible to say because
at  death  they always revert to human form, but the  belief  is
world-wide  and the evidence so abundant that it cannot  lightly
be  put  aside. In any case what you call madness is actually  a
very  definite  form of diabolic possession  which  seizes  upon
these  people and causes them to act with the same  savagery  as
the  animal they believe themselves for the time to be.  Of  its
existence, no one who has read the immense literature  upon  it,
can possibly doubt.'
  'Perhaps,' Richard admitted grudgingly. 'But apart from  Marie
Lou's story, all the evidence is centuries old and mixed up with
every sort of superstition and fairy story. In the depths of the
Siberian forests or the Indian jungle the belief in such  things
may perhaps stimulate some poor benighted wretch to act the part
now  and again and so perpetuate the legend. But you cannot cite
me  a  case  in  which  a number of people have  sworn  to  such
happenings in a really civilised country in modern times!'
  'Can't  I?' De Richleau laughed grimly. 'What about the affair
at Uttenheim near Strasbourg. The farms in the neighbourhood had
been troubled by a lone wolf for weeks. The Garde-Chainpetre was
sent  out to get it. He tracked it down. It attacked him and  he
fired-killing  it dead. Then he found himself bending  over  the
body  of  a  local youth. That unfortunate rural  policeman  was
tried for murder, but he swore by all that was holy that it  was
a  wolf  at which he had shot, and the entire population of  the
village  came  forward to give evidence on his  behalf-that  the
dead  man had boasted time and again of his power to change  his
shape.'
  'Is  that  a  fifteenth or sixteenth century story?'  murmured
Richard,
  'Neither. It occurred in November, 1925.'


                               25

                       The Talisman of Set

  For  a  while longer De Richleau strode up and down, patiently
answering Richard's questions and ramming home his arguments for
a  belief  in  the power of the supernatural to  affect  mankind
until,  when  Marie Lou rejoined them, Richard's brown  eyes  no
longer  held the half-mocking humour which had twinkled in  them
an hour before.
  The  Duke's  explanation  had been so  clear  and  lucid,  his
earnestness  so  compelling that the younger man  was  at  least
forced  to suspend judgment, and even found himself toying  with
the  idea  that Simon might really be threatened  by  some  very
dangerous and potent force which it would need all their courage
to resist during the dark hours that lay ahead.
  It was eight o'clock now. Twilight had fallen and the trees at
the bottom of the garden were already merged in shadow. Yet with
the  coming  of  darkness they were not filled  with  any  fresh
access  of  fear. It seemed that their long talk had  elucidated
the  position and even strengthened the bond between them.  Like
men  who  are about to go into physical battle, they were  alert
and  expectant  but  a little subdued, and realised  that  their
strongest  hope  lay  in putting their absolute  trust  in  each
other.
  At  Marie Lou's suggestion they went into the dining-room  and
sat  down  to  a  cold supper which had already been  laid  out.
Having  eaten  so lightly during the day, their natural  inclina
tion  was to make a heavy meal but, without any further  caution
from  De  Richleau, they all appreciated now that the  situation
was sufficiently serious to make restraint imperative.
  Even  Richard denied himself a second helping of his favourite
Morecambe Bay shrimps which had arrived that morning.
  When  they had finished the Duke leant over him. 'I think  the
library would be the best place to conduct my experiments, and I
shall require the largest jug you have full of fresh water, some
glasses and it would be best to leave the fruit.'
  'By  all  means,' Richard agreed, glancing towards his butler.
'See  to  that please, Maim-will you.' He then went on  to  give
clear  and  definite instructions that they were not to  be  dis
turbed  on any pretext until the morning, and concluded with  an
order that the table should be cleared right away.
  With  a  bland,  unruffled countenance the man  signified  his
understanding and motioned to his footman to begin clearing  the
table.  So  bland in fact was the expression that it would  have
been  difficult for them to visualise him half an hour later  in
the  privacy of the housekeeper's room declaring with a  knowing
wink:
  'In my opinion it's spooks they're after-the old chap's got no
television set. And behaving like a lot of heathens with  not  a
drop  of  drink to their dinner. Think of that with young  Simon
there   who's   so  mighty  particular  about  his   hock.   But
spiritualists always is that way. I only hope it doesn't get 'em
bad  or  what's  going to happen to the wine bill  I'd  like  to
know?'
  When  Richard  had  very pointedly wished his  henchman  'good
night,'  they moved into the library and De Richleau,  who  knew
the room well, surveyed it with fresh interest.
  Comfortable sofas and large arm-chairs stood about the  uneven
polished oak of the floor. A pair of globes occupied two  angles
of the book-lined walls, and a great oval mahogany writing-table
of Chippendale design stood before the wide french window. Owing
to its sunken position in the old wing of the house the lighting
of  the  room was dim even on a summer's day. Yet its atmosphere
was  by  no means gloomy. A log fire upon a twelve-inch pile  of
ashes  was  kept burning in the wide fireplace all  through  the
year,  and at night, when the curtains were drawn and  the  room
lit  with  the  soft radiance of the concealed  ceiling  lights,
which  Richard  had installed, it was a friendly, restful  place
well suited for quiet work or idle conversation.
  'We must strip the room-furniture, curtains, everything!' said
the  Duke.  'And  I shall need brooms and a mop  to  polish  the
floor.'
  The  three  men then began moving the furniture out  into  the
hall while Marie Lou fetched a selection of implements from  the
house-maid's closet.
  For  a quarter of an hour they worked in silence until nothing
remained  in  the big library except the serried rows  of  gilt-
tooled books.
  'My apologies for even doubting the efficiency of your staff!'
the  Duke  smiled at Marie Lou. 'But I would like the room  gone
over  thoroughly, particularly the floor, since evil  emanations
can   fasten  on  the  least  trace  of  dust  to  assist  their
materialisation.  Would  you  see  to  it,  Princess,  while   I
telephone the inn again to find out if Rex has returned.'
  'Of   course,  Greyeyes,  dear,'  said  Marie  Lou  and,  with
Richard's and Simon's help, she set about dusting, sweeping  and
polishing until when De Richleau rejoined them, the boards  were
so scrupulously clean that they could have eaten from them.
  'No  news of Rex, worse luck,' he announced with a frown. 'And
I've  had  to disconnect the telephone now in case a call  makes
Malm  think it necessary to disregard his instructions.. We  had
better go upstairs and change next.'
  'What into?' Richard inquired.
  'Pyjamas.  I hope you have a good supply. You see none  of  us
tonight  must  wear  any garment which has  been  even  slightly
soiled.  Human  impurities are bound to linger in one's  clothes
even if they have only been worn for a few hours, and it is just
upon such things that elementals fasten most readily.'
  'Shan't  we  be awfully cold?' hazarded Simon with an  unhappy
look;
  'I'll  fit  you out with shooting stockings and an  overcoat,'
Richard volunteered.
  'Stockings if you like, providing that they are fresh from the
wash-but no overcoats, dressing-gowns or shoes,' said the  Duke.
'However, there is no reason why we should not wear a couple  of
suits apiece of Richard's underclothes, beneath the pyjamas,  to
keep  us  warm. The essential paint is that everything  must  be
absolutely clean.'
  The  whole  party then migrated upstairs, the men congregating
in  Richard's  dressing-room where they ransacked his  ward-robe
for  suitable  attire.  Marie Lou joined  them  a  little  later
looking divinely pretty in peach silk pyjamas and silk stockings
into  the  tops  of which, above the knees, the bottoms  of  her
pyjamas were neatly tucked.
  'Now  for  a  raid on the linen cupboard,' said  De  Richleau.
'Cushions,  being soiled already, are useless to us,  but  I  am
dreading that hard floor so we will take down as many sheets  as
we  can carry, clean bath towls and blankets too. Then we  shall
have some sort of couch to sit on.'
  In  the library once more, they set down their bundles and  De
Richleau produced his suitcase, taking from it a piece of chalk,
a length of string, and a footrule. Marking a spot in the centre
of the room, he asked Marie Lou to hold the end of the string to
it,  measuring off exactly seven feet and then, using her  as  a
pivot, he drew a large circle in chalk upon the floor.
  Next,  the  string was lengthened and an outer  circle  drawn.
Then  the  most difficult part of the operation began.  A  five-
rayed  star  had to be made with its points touching  the  outer
circle and its valleys resting upon the inner. But, as the  Duke
explained, while such a defence can be highly potent  if  it  is
constructed with geometrical accuracy, should the angles vary to
any marked degree or the distance of the apexes from the central
point differ more than a fraction, the pentacle would prove  not
only useless but even dangerous.
  For  half  an hour they measured and checked with  string  and
rule and marking chalk; but Richard proved useful here, for  all
his  life he had been an expert with maps and plans and was even
something  of amateur architect. At last the broad  chalk  lines
were  drawn to the Duke's satisfaction, forming the magical five
pointed  star,  in which it was his intention that  they  should
remain while darkness lasted.
  He then chalked in, with careful spacing round the rim of the
inner circle, the powerful exorcism: -
  In nomina Pa + tris et Fi + lii et Spiritus + Sancti! + El +
Elohym + Sother + Emmanuel + Sabaoth + Agia + Tetragammaton +
Agyos + Otheos + Ischiros + - and, after reference to an old
book which he had brought with him, drew certain curious and
ancient symbols in the valleys and the mounts of the microcosmic
star.
  Simon,  whose  recent experience had taught him  something  of
pentacles,  recognised  ten of them as Cabbalistic  signs  taken
from  the Sephirotic Tree; Kether, Binah, Ceburah, Hod,  Malchut
and  the  rest.  But  others, like the Eye  of  Horus,  were  of
Egyptian  origin, and others again in some ancient Aryan  script
which he did not understand.
  When  the skeleton of this astra! fortress was completed,  the
clean  bedding was laid out inside it for them to rest upon  and
De Richleau produced further impedimenta from his case.
  With  lengths of asafretida grass and blue wax he  sealed  the
windows, the door leading to the hall, and that concealed in the
bookshelves which led to the nursery above, each at  both  sides
and at the tops and at the bottoms, making the sign of the Cross
in holy water over every seal as he completed it.
  Then  he ordered the others inside the pentacle, examined  the
switches by the door to assure himself that every light  in  the
room  was on, made up the fire with a great pile of logs so that
it would last well through the night and there be no question of
their  having  to leave the circle to replenish it and,  joining
them  where they had squatted down on the thick mat of blankets,
produced five little silver cups, which he proceeded to fill two-
thirds full with Holy water. These he placed, one in each valley
of the pentacle.
  Then,  taking five long white tapering candles,  such  as  are
offered by devotees to the Saints in Catholic Churches,  he  lit
them from an old-fashioned tinder-box and set them upright,  one
at  each apex of the five-pointed star. In their rear he  placed
the five brand new horseshoes which Richard had secured from the
village with their horns pointing outward, and beyond each  vase
of  holy  water  he set a dried mandrake, four females  and  one
male, the male being in the valley to the north.
  These   complicated  formulas  for  the  erection  of  outward
barriers  being at last finished, the Duke turned his  attention
to  the  individual protection of his friends and himself.  Four
long wreaths of garlic flowers were strung together and each  of
the  party  placed  one  about his neck. Rosaries,  with  little
golden  crucifixes attached, were distributed, medals  of  Saint
Benedict  holding the Cross in his right hand and the Holy  Rule
in  his  left,  and phials of salt and mercury; lengths  of  the
asafcetida  grass  were  again tied  round  Simon's  wrists  and
ankles,  and  he  was placed in their midst facing  towards  the
north.  The  Duke then performed the final rites of sealing  the
nine openings of each of their bodies.
  All  this  performance had entirely failed to impress Richard.
In  fact, it tended to revive his earlier scepticism. It was his
private belief that a blackmailing gang were playing tricks upon
Simon and the Duke so, before coming downstairs, he had tucked a
loaded automatic comfortably away beneath his pyjama jacket.  In
deference  to De Richleau's obvious concern that nothing  soiled
should  be  brought  within  the  circle  he  had  first,  half-
ashamedly, cleansed the weapon in a bath of spirit but,  if  Mr.
Mocata was so ill-advised as to break into his house that  night
with  the  intention of staging any funny business, he meant  to
use  it. After a little pause he looked cheerfully round at  the
others. 'Well-here we are! What happens now?'
  'We  have ample room here,' replied De Richleau. 'So there  is
no  reason why we should not lie down with our feet towards  the
rim  of  the  circle and try to get some sleep,  but  there  are
certain  instructions I would like to give you before we  settle
down.'
  'I never felt less like sleep in my life,' remarked Simon.
  'Nor I,' agreed Richard. 'It's early yet and if only Marie Lou
weren't here I'd tell you some bawdy stories to keep you gay.'
  'Don't mind me, darling,' cooed Marie Lou. 'I'm human- even if
you are right about my having an angelic face.'
  'No!'  He shook his head quickly. 'Somehow they fail to  amuse
me  when you're about. That's why I never tell you any. It needs
men  on their own sitting round a bottle of something to get the
best  out  of a bawdy jest. My God! I wish we'd got a bottle  of
brandy with us now!'
  'Mean  pig,'  she murmured amiably, snuggling up against  him.
'If  Greyeyes and Simon didn't know you so well they would think
you  nothing  but an awful little drunk from the way  you  talk,
whereas you're a nice person really.'
  'Am  I?  Well, anyway it's fine that you should think so.'  He
fondled  her short curly hair with his long fingers. 'My present
lust-for  liquor is only because I've been done out of  my  fair
ration  today.  But  what  shall we  talk  about?  Greyeyes-this
Talisman that all the bother centres on-tell us about it  before
you give us your final orders for the night.'
  'You know the legend of Isis and Osiris?' the Duke asked.
  'Yes-vaguely,' Richard replied. 'They were the King and  Queen
of  Heaven  who  came  to earth in human  form  and  taught  the
Egyptians  all  they knew weren't they? The old  business  of  a
fairhaired  god arriving among a dusky people and importing  all
sorts  of  new  ideas  about agriculture  and  architecture  and
justice-in fact-what we call civilisation.'
  De  Richleau nodded. 'That is so. But I mean the story of  how
Osiris came to die?'
  'He  was  murdered  wasn't he?' volunteered Simon.  'But  I've
forgotten how.'
  'Well,  this is the account which has been handed down  to  us
through  many  thousands of years. Osiris  was,  apparently,  as
Richard  says, a fair-haired, light-skinned man,  alien  to  the
Egyptian race, who became their King and, ruling them with great
intelligence, brought them many blessings. But he had a  brother
named Set-and here again you get the two principals of Good  and
Evil, Light and Darkness-for Set was a dark man. The legend  is,
of course, apocryphal up to a point but, eliminating the overlay
of  myth with which the priests later embroidered it, the  whole
story  had such a genuine ring of human tragedy that it is  very
difficult  to  doubt  that these two  men  and  the  woman  Isis
actually  lived, as the progenitors of a Royal dynasty,  in  the
Nile valley long before the Pyramids were built.
  'It  always  amazes me, whenever I re-read the  story  in  the
Greek  Classics, how Set, particularly, stands out as a definite
and  living  figure after all these countless  generations.  The
characters  in our seventeenth century plays even are  quite  un
real  to'  us  now-with a very few exceptions; but Set  remains,
timeless and unchanging, the charming but unscrupulous rogue who
might have entertained you with lavish hospitality and brilliant
conversation yesterday-yet would do you down without  the  least
compunction if he met you in the street tomorrow.
  "He  was  tall and slim and dark and handsome; a fine  athlete
and  a  great hunter, but a cultured, amusing person too, and  a
boon companion who knew how to carry his wine at table. The type
whose lapses men are always ready to condone on account of their
delightful  personality,  and whose  wickedness  women  persuade
themselves  is only waywardness-while they succumb almost  at  a
glance to that dark, male virility.
  'Set was younger than Osiris and jealous of his authority.
  Then  he  fell in love with Isis, his brother's wife. The  old
story of the human triangle you see, or rather the original, for
all  others in the whole literature of the world which deal with
the  same subject are plagiarisms. Set conspired, therefore,  to
slay the King and seize his wife and power for himself.
  'To  assassinate  Osiris openly would have  been  a  difficult
matter because he was always surrounded by the older nobles, who
loved  him  and  knew  that he kept the  peace  while  the  land
flourished and grew prosperous. Set knew that they would  defend
the  King's  person  with their lives, and  he  was  faced  with
another problem too. Osiris was a god, and even if he could lure
him  to a place where the deed could be done in secret, he dared
not spill one drop of the divine blood.
  'He  planned then a superlatively clever murder. You all  know
that  the Egyptians considered this present life to be  only  an
interlude and that almost from the age at which they could think
at  all their thoughts were largely focused on the life to come.
Many  of  them  spent their entire fortune upon  preparing  some
magnificent  place  of  burial  for  themselves,  and  at  every
banquet, when the slaves served the dessert, thehead wine butler
carried  round a miniature coffin with a skeleton inside  to  re
mind the guests that death was waiting round the corner for them
all.
  'With  diabolical cunning, Set utilised the national preoccupa
tion  with  death and ceremonial burial to ensnare his  brother.
First,  by  a clever piece of trickery he secured Osiris'  exact
measurements.  Then  he had made the most beautiful  sarcophagus
that  had  ever  been seen. It was a great heavy chest  of  fine
cedar  wood with the figures of the forty-two assessors  of  the
dead, who form the jury of the gods, painted in lapis blue,  and
the  minutest hieroglyphics in black and red; line upon line  of
them  reciting  the  most  effective protections  against  black
magic, and every requisite line of ritual from the great Book of
the Dead.
  'As  soon as this wonderful coffin was completed, Set prepared
a  great  banquet to which he invited Osiris and seventy-two  of
the  younger nobles, all of whom he had corrupted and drawn  one
by one into his conspiracy.
  'Then  on the night of the feast he had the beautiful sarcopha
gus placed in a small anteroom through which every guest had  to
pass on his arrival.
  'You  can imagine how envious they were when they saw it,  and
how  each commented on the workmanship and the artistry  of  the
designs-Osiris no less than the others.
  'They  dined,  drank  heavily of wine,  watched  the  Egyptian
dancing girls, saw Ethiopian contortionists, and listened to the
best  stringed music of the day. Then as a final hospitality  to
his guests, the Prince Set rose from his couch and proclaimed:
  '  "You  have  all seen the sarcophagus which  stands  in  the
little  anteroom,  and  it is my wish that  one  of  you  should
receive it as a gift. He whom it fits may take it with my  bless
ing."
  'Picture  to yourselves the nobles as they scrambled  up  from
their  couches, thrusting the dancing girls aside, and  elbowing
their  way out into the anteroom, each hoping that the  princely
gift might fall to him.
  'One  after another they got inside and lay down, but not  one
of them fitted it exactly. Then Set led Osiris into the anteroom
and,  waving  his hand towards the handsome chest  said  with  a
little laugh: "Why don't you try it brother. It is worthy  of  a
King. Even of the Lord of the Two Lands, the Upper and the Lower
Nile."
  'With a smile Osiris lowered himself into the masterpiece. And
behold,  it fitted his tall, broad-shouldered body to  a  hair's
breadth.  No  sooner  was he inside than the principal  conspira
tors,  who  were in the secret, rushed forward with the  weighty
lid. In frantic haste they nailed it down and poured molten lead
upon  it, so that Osiris may have survived an hour in agony  but
died at last of suffocation.
  'Set  thus succeeded in his treacherous design of killing  his
brother  without  spilling one drop of his  blood.  He  and  his
turbulent followers then hastened to their chariots, rode forth,
and  seized the Kingdom. But Isis was warned in time and managed
to escape.
  'The  coffer had been left with Osiris in it and, the Egyptian
religion  being  so strongly bound up with the  worship  of  the
dead, it was vital to Set's newly established authority that the
body  should  be  disposed of at the earliest  possible  moment.
Otherwise, if the priests got hold of it, they would bury it  in
state  and erect a mighty shrine to the dead King's memory which
would  form  a rallying point for all the best elements  in  the
Kingdom where they would league themselves against the murderer.
  'Next morning, therefore, immediately he got home, Set had the
chest  cast  into  the Nile. But Isis recovered  it,  and  after
certain magical ceremonies, succeeded in impregnating herself by
means  of her husband's dead body. Then she fled to the  papyrus
marshes of the Delta, taking Osiris' body with her in the  chest
since there was no time to give it proper burial.
  'When  Set learned what had happened, he swore that  he  would
hunt Isis down and kill her, and that he would find Osiris' body
and destroy it for ever.
  'Again now, in the story, we get one of those strange glimpses
of  happenings many thousands of years ago which we can see more
clearly than the things of yesterday.
  'In  a few phrases it is recounted how Set searched for months
in  vain, and then one night, the pregnant ex-Queen Isis, now  a
destitute  refugee  alone and unattended, is  seated  beneath  a
cluster of palm trees in the desert. Her husband's body, roughly
embalmed, is in the wooden chest beside her and she is conscious
of  the movements of the child she bears. Suddenly her sorrowful
meditations  are  disturbed  by a distant  rumble  breaking  the
stillness  of  the  night.  The noise increases  to  a  drumming
thunder  as a party of horsemen come galloping across the  sand.
Isis runs for cover to a nearby papyrus swamp and crouches waist
high  in  the  water watching from amidst the reeds.  The  dusky
riders  come  thundering past. She sees that it is Set  and  his
dissolute nobles hunting by the brilliant light of the  Egyptian
moon.  One  of them recognises the chest. With cries of  triumph
they fling themselves from their saddles, break it to pieces and
drag  out  the  body  of  Osiris.  Hidden  there,  fearful   and
trembling, Isis watches Set's dark, proud profile as  he  orders
the  body  to  be  torn  into  fourteen  pieces  and  the  parts
distributed throughout the length and breadth of the Kingdom  so
that they might never be brought together again.
  'Years later, Horus, the son of Isis, the Great God, the  Hawk
of Light, who restored its blessings to mankind and lifted again
the veil of darkness that Set's treachery had brought to dim the
world,  became  master  of the Kingdom.  Then  Isis  roamed  the
country seeking for the dismembered portions of her husband. She
did  not attempt to assemble them again, but wherever she  found
one  she  erected  a  great temple to his memory.  In  all,  she
succeeded  in  finding  thirteen pieces of  the  body,  but  the
fourteenth she never found. That Set had carefully embalmed  and
kept  himself.  It  was  for this reason  that,  although  Horus
defeated  Set  three times in battle he was never able  to  slay
him.  The portion that Set retained was the most potent  of  all
charms-the phallus of the dead god, his brother.
  'In the secret histories of esoterism it is stated that it has
since  been  heard of many times. For long periods  through  the
ages  it  has been completely lost. But whenever it is fouad  it
brings  calamity upon the world, and that is the thing which  we
have  to prevent Mocata securing at all costs today-the Talisman
of Set.'
  When  De Richleau had ceased speaking, they sat silent  for  a
while  until  Marie Lou said softly: 'I am feeling rather  tired
now, Greyeyes, dear, and I think I'd like to rest, even if it is
impossible to sleep with all these lights.'
  'All right. Then I'll say what I have to Princess. But please,
all  of  you'-the Duke paused to look at each of  them  in  turn
-'listen carefully, because this is vitally serious.
  'What  may happen I have no idea. Perhaps nothing at  all  and
the  worst  we'll  have to face is an uncomfortable  night.  But
Mocata threatened to get Simon away from us by hook or by crook,
and I feel certain that he meant it. I cannot tell you what form
his attack is likely to take, but I am sure he will literally do
his  damnedest  to break us up and get Simon  out  of  our  care
tonight.
  'He may send the most terrible powers against us, but there is
one  thing above all others that I want you to remember. As long
as  we stay inside this pentacle we shall be safe, but if any of
us sets one foot outside it we risk eternal damnation.
  'We may be called upon to witness the sort of horrors which it
is  difficult for you to conceive. I mean visions  such  as  you
have  read of in Gustave Flaubert's Temptation of Saint Anthony,
or seen in pictures by the old Flemish masters such as Brueghel.
But  they cannot do us the least harm as long as we remain where
we are.
  'Again,  we may see nothing, but the attack may develop  in  a
far more subtle form. That is to say, inside ourselves. Any,  or
all  of  us,  may find our reason being undermined by  insidious
argument  so that we may start telling each other that there  is
nothing  in the world to be frightened of and that we are  utter
fools to spend a miserable night sitting here when we might  all
be  comfortably in bed upstairs. If that happens, it is  a  lie.
Even  if  I  appear to change my mind and tell you that  I  have
thought  of new arrangements which would be safer, you must  not
believe me because it will not be my true self speaking. It  may
be  that an awful thirst will come upon us. That is why  I  have
had  this  big  jug of'water brought in. We may be  assailed  by
hunger, but to meet that we have the fruit. It is possible  that
we  may  be  afflicted with earache or some  other  bodily  pain
which,  ordinarily, would make us want to go  upstairs  to  seek
relief.  If  that happens we've just got to stick  it  till  the
morning.
  'Poor  old  Simon is likely to be afflicted worst because  the
campaign will centre on an attempt to make him break out of  the
circle.  But we've got to stop him-by force, if need  be.  There
are  two  main  defences which we can bring  into  play  if  any
manifestations do take place, as I fear they may.
  'One is the Blue vibration. Shut your eyes and try to think of
yourselves  as standing in an oval of blue light.  The  oval  is
your  aura, and the colour blue exceedingly potent in all things
pertaining to the spirit; the other is prayer. Do not  endeavour
to  make up complicated prayers or your words may become muddled
and  you  will find yourself saying something that  you  do  not
mean.  Confine  yourselves to saying over and over  again:  "Oh,
Lord, protect me! Oh, Lord, protect me!" and not only say it but
think  it with all the power of your will, visualising,  if  you
can, Our Lord upon the Cross with blue light streaming from  His
body  towards yourselves; but if you think you see  Him  outside
this  pentacle beckoning you to safety while some terrible thing
threatens  you  from  the  other side,  still  you  must  remain
within.'
  As  De  Richleau finished there was a murmur of  assent.  Then
Richard,  with an arm about Marie Lou's shoulders said  quietly:
'I understand, and we'll do everything you say.'
  'Thank you. Now, Sirnon,' the Duke went on. 'I want you to say
clearly and distinctly seven times, "Om meni gadme aum." That is
the invocation to manathaer-your higher self.'
  Simon  did  as he was bid, then they knelt together  and  each
offered a silent prayer that the Power of Light might guard  and
protect  them  from  all uncleanness, and  that  each  might  be
granted strength to aid the others should they be faced with any
peril.
  They  lay  down  then  and tried to rest despite  the  burning
candles  and  the  soft glow of the electric  Light.  Sleep  was
utterly  impossible to them in such circumstances.  Yet  no  one
there had more to say upon any point that mattered and, after  a
little time, no one felt that they could break the stillness  by
endeavouring to make ordinary conversation.
  The  steady ticking of a clock came faintly from somewhere  in
the  depths  of the house. Occasionally a log fell with  a  loud
plop  and hissed for a moment in the fire grate. Then the little
noises  of the night were hushed, and an immense silence,  brood
ing  and  mysterious, seemed to have fallen upon them.  In  some
strange  way it did not seem as though the quite octagonal  room
was any longer a portion of the house or that outside the window
lay  the friendly, well-cared-for garden that they knew so well.
Watchful,  listening, intent, they lay silent,  waiting  to  see
what the night would bring,


                               26

                    Rex Learns of the Undead

  Tanith  slept peacefully, curled up in Rex's arms, her  golden
head pillowed upon his chest. For a little time anxious thoughts
occupied his mind. He reproached himself for having left Sirnon,
and  the  gnawing worm of doubt raised its head again to whisper
that  Tanith  had planned to lure him away from  protecting  his
friend, but he dismissed such thoughts almost immediately. Simon
would  be  safe  enough in the care of Richard  and  Marie  Lou.
Tanith  was alone and needed him, and he soon convinced  himself
that  in  remaining  there he was breaking a lance  against  the
enemy as well, by preventing Mocata securing her again to assist
him, all unwillingly, in his hostilities.
  The shadows lengthened and the patches of sunligbt dimmed, yet
still  Tanith  slept  on-the sleep of utter exhaustion-  brought
about  by  the  terrible nervous crisis through  which  she  had
passed  from  hour  to hour during the previous  day,  the  past
night, and that morning, in her attempt to seek safety with him.
  With  infinite precaution not to disturb her he looked at  his
watch  and  found  that the time was nearly  eight  o'clock.  De
Richleau  should  be back by now and after all it  was  unlikely
that Mocata could prevent his return before sundown. De Richleau
might  have  lost his nerve for a few moments the night  before,
but he had retrieved it brilliantly in that headlong dash at the
wheel  of  the  Hispano down into the hellish valley  where  the
Satanists practised their grim rites. Now that they had  secured
Simon  safe and sound once more, Rex had an utter faith that  De
Richleau  would fight to the last ditch, with all the skill  and
cunning  of  his  subtle  brain, and  that  stubborn,  tenacious
courage  that Rex knew so well, before he would surrender  their
friend to the evi! powers again,
  It  was  dark  now; even the afterglow had faded, leaving  the
trees  as  vague, dark sentinels in that silent wood. The  under
growth was massed in bulky shadows and the colour had faded from
the  grasses and wild-flowers on the green, mossy bank where  he
lay with Tanith breathing so evenly in his embrace.
  His  back and arms were aching from his strained position  but
he  sat  on  while  the moments fled, sleepy  himself  now,  yet
determined not to give way to the temptation, even to doze, lest
silent evil should steal upon them where they lay.
  Another  hour  crept  by  and then  Tanith  stirred  slightly.
Another moment, and she had raised her head, shaking the tumbled
golden  hair back from her face and blinking up at him a  little
out of sleepy eyes.
  'Rex,  where  are  we?' she murmured indistinctly.  'What  has
happened? I've had an awful dream.'
  He smiled down at her and kissed her full on the lips.
  'Together,' he said. 'That's all that matters, isn't  it?  But
if you must know, we're in the wood behind the road-house.'
  'Of  course,' she gave a little gasp, and hurriedly  began  to
tidy herself. 'But we can't stay here all night.'
  The thought of taking her back to Cardinals Folly occurred  to
him  again, but in these timeless hours he had witnessed so many
things  he would have thought impossible a few days before  that
he  dismissed  the idea at once. Tanith, he felt convinced,  was
not  lying to him. She was genuinely repentant and terrified  of
Mocata. But who could say what strange powers that sinister  man
might  not be able to exercise over her at a distance. He  dared
not  risk  it. However, she was certainly right in  saying  that
they could not stay where they were all night,
  We'd  best go back to the road-house,' he suggested. They will
be  able to knock us up a meal, and after, it'll be time  enough
to figure out what we mean to do.'
  'Yes,'  she sighed a little. 'I am hungry now-terribly hungry.
Do let us go back and see if they can find us something to eat.'
  Her arm through his, their fingers laced together, they walked
back  the quarter of a mile to the little stream which separated
the  wood  from the inn garden. He lifted her over it again  and
when  they  reached'the lounge of the 'Pride of  Peacocks'  they
found that it was already half-past nine.
  Knowing that his friends would be anxious about him, Rex tried
to  telephone  immediately he got in, but the  village  exchange
told him that the line to Cardinals Folly was out of order, Then
he  sent  the  trim  maid for Mr. Wilkes, and when  that  worthy
arrived  on the scene, inquired if it was too late for  them  to
have a hot meal.
  'Not at all, sir,' Mr. Wilkes bent, quiet-voiced, deferential,
priestlike, benign. 'My wife will be very happy to  cook  you  a
little  dinner. What would you care for now? Fish  is  a  little
difficult in these parts, except when I know that I have  guests
staying  and  can order in advance, and game, of course,  is  un
fortunately out of season. But a nice young duckling perhaps, or
a  chicken?  My wife, if I may say so, does a very good  Chicken
Maryland,  sir,  of which our American visitors have  been  kind
enough to express their approval from time to time.'
  'Chicken Maryland,' exclaimed Rex. 'That sounds grand  to  me.
How about you, honey?'
  Tanith  nodded. 'Lovely, if only it is not going to  take  too
long.'
  'Some twenty minutes, madam. Not more. Mrs. Wilkes will see to
it right away, and in the meantime, I've just had in a very nice
piece of smoked salmon, which comes to me from a London house. I
could  recommend  that if you would like to  start  your  dinner
fairly soon.'
  Rex  nodded,  and  the aged Wilkes went on amiably:  'And  now
sir-to  drink? Red wine, if I might make so bold would  be  best
with  the grill, perhaps. I have a little of the Clos de Vougoet
1920 left, which Mr. Richard Eaton was good enough to compliment
me on when he dined here last, and his Lordship, my late master,
always  used  to  say  that  he found  a  glass  of  Justerini's
Amontillado before a meal lent an edge to the appetite.'
  For  a  second  Rex  wavered. He recalled  De  Richleau's  pro
hibition against alcohol, but he had been far from satisfied  by
the  brief  rest  which  he had snatched that  morning  and  was
feeling  all the strain now of the events which had taken  place
in the last forty-eight hours. Tanith, too, was looking pate and
drawn, despite her sleep. A bottle of good burgundy was the very
thing  they  needed to give them fresh strength and courage.  He
could  have  sunk half a dozen cocktails with the greatest  ease
and  pleasure, but by denying himself spirits, he felt  that  he
was at least carrying out the kernel of the Duke's instructions.
Good wine could surely harm no one-so he acquiesced.
  A  quarter of an hour later, he was seated opposite to  Tanith
at  a  little  corner table in the dining-room, munching  fresh,
warm  toast and the smoked salmon with hungry relish, while  the
neat  little maid ministered to their wants, and the  pontifical
Mr. Wilkes hovered eagle-eyed in the background. The chicken was
admirably cooked, and the wine lent an additional flavour by the
fact  that his palate was unusually clean and fresh from  having
denied himself those cocktails before the meal.
  When  the  chicken  was served, Mr. Wilkes murmured  something
about  a sweet and Rex, gazing entranced into Tanith's big eyes,
nodded  vaguely. Which sign of assent resulted, a little  later,
in  the  production of a flaming omelette au kirsch. Then Wilkes
came forward once more, with a suggestion that the dinner should
be  rounded  off  by  allowing him to decant  a  bottle  of  his
Cockburn's '08. But here, Rex was firm. The burgundy had  served
its  purpose, stimulated his brain and put fresh life  into  his
body.  To drink a vintage port after it would have been pleasant
he knew, but certain to destroy the good effect and cause him to
feel sleepy. So he resisted Mr. Wilkes' blandishments.
  After  the  meal Rex tried to get on to Cardinals Folly  again
but the line was still reported out of order, so he scribbled  a
note to Richard, saying that he was safe and well and would ring
them in the morning, then asked Wilkes to have it sent up to the
house by hand.
  When  the  landlord had left them, they moved  back  into  the
lounge and discussed how they should pass the night. Tanith  was
as  insistent  as  ever that under no circumstances  should  Rex
leave  her to herself, even if she asked him later on to do  so.
She  felt that her only hope of safety lay in remaining with him
beside her until the morning, so it was decided that they  spend
the night together in the empty lounge.
  Tanith  had  already booked a room and so, to make all  things
orderly  in the mind of the good Mr. Wilkes, Rex booked another,
but  told  the landlord that, as Tanith suffered from  insomnia,
they would probably remain in the lounge until very late, and so
he  was not to bother about them when he locked up. As a gesture
he  also borrowed from Wilkes a pack of cards, saying that  they
meant to pass an hour or two playing nap.
  The  fire was made up and they settled down comfortably  under
the  shelter  of the big mantel in the inglenook with  a  little
table  before  them  upon which they spread out  the  cards  for
appearance sake. But no sooner had the maid withdrawn than  they
had  their  arms  about  each other  once  more  and  blissfully
oblivious  of  their surroundings, began that  delightful  first
exchange  of  confidences about their previous lives,  which  is
such a blissful hour for all lovers.
  Rex  would have been in the seventh heaven but for the thought
of  this  terrible  business in which  Tanith  had  got  herself
involved and the threat of Mocata's power hanging like  a  sword
of Damocles above her head.
  Again  and  again, from a variety of subjects and  experiences
ranging  the world over, and from their childhood to the present
day,  they found themselves continually and inexplicably  caught
back  to that macabre subject which both were seeking to  avoid.
In  the  end,  both surrendered to it and allowed  the  thoughts
which  were uppermost in their minds to enter their conversation
freely.
  'I'm  still  hopelessly  at  sea  about  this  business,'  Rex
confessed. 'It's all so alien, so bizarre, so utterly fantastic.
I  know I wasn't dreaming last night or the night before. I know
that  if  Simon  hadn't got himself into trouble I  wouldn't  be
holding your loveliness in my arms right now. Yet, every time  I
think of it, I feel that I must have been imagining things,  and
that it just simply can't be true.'
  'It  is,  my dear,' she pressed his hand gently; That is  just
the  horror  of it. If it were any ordinary tangible  peril,  it
wouldn't  be  quite so terrifying. It wouldn't be quite  so  bad
even  if  we  were living in the middle ages. Then at  least,  I
could  seek  sanctuary  in some convent  where  the  nuns  would
understand
  and  the priests who were learned in such matters, exert  them
selves  to  protect  me. But in these days of modern  scepticism
there  is no one I can turn to; police and clergymen and doctors
would  all think me insane. I only have you and after last night
I'm  frightened, Rex, frightened.' A sudden flush mounted to her
cheeks again.
  'I  know,  I know,' Rex soothed her gently. 'But you must  try
all  you know not to be. I've a feeling that you're scaring your
self more than is really necessary. I'll agree that Mocata might
hypnotise you if he got you on your own again, and maybe use you
in  some way to get poor Simon back into his net, but what could
he  actually  do to you beyond that? He's not going  to  take  a
chance  on  murdering anybody, so that the police could  take  a
hand, even if he had sufficient motive to want to try."
  'I  am  afraid  you don't understand, dearest,'  she  murmured
gently. 'A Satanist who is as far along the Path as Mocata  does
not  need  a motive to do murder, unless you can call  malicious
pleasure in the deed a motive in itself, and my having left  him
in  the  lurch  at such a critical time is quite  sufficient  to
anger him into bringing about my death.'
  'I  tell  you, sweet, he'll never risk doing murder.  In  this
country it is far too dangerous a game.'
  'But  his  murders are not like ordinary murders. He can  kill
from a distance if he likes.'
  'What-by  sticking pins in a little wax figure with your  name
scratched  on it, or letting it melt away before the fire  until
you pine and die?'
  That  is  one way, but he is more likely to use the  blood  of
white mice.'
  'How in the world do you mean?'
  'I  don't know very much about it except what I have picked up
from Madame D'Urfe and a few other people. They say that when  a
very  advanced  adept wishes to kill someone, he feeds  a  white
mouse  on  some  of the holy wafers that they compel  people  to
steal  from  churches for them. The sacrilegious aspect  of  the
thing is very important, you see. Then they perform the Catholic
ceremony of baptism over the mouse, christening it with the same
name  as that of their intended victim. That creates an affinity
between the mouse and the person far stronger than carving their
name on any image.'
  Then they kill the mouse, eh?'
  'No,  I  don't  think  so. They draw off some  of  its  blood,
impregnate that with their malefic will, vaporise it,  and  call
up  an  elemental to feed upon its essence. Then they perform  a
mystic transfusion in their victim's veins causing the elemental
to poison them. But, Rex--'
  'Yes, my sweet.'
  'It  is  not that I am afraid to die. In any case, as  I  have
told  you, there is no hope of my living out the year, but  that
has  not  troubled me for a long time now. It is what  may  come
after that terrifies me so.'
  'Surely  he  can't harm anybody once they're  dead,'  Rex  pro
tested.
  'But  he  can,' Tanith burst out with a little cry of distress
and  fear,; 'If he kills me that way, he can make me dead to the
world,  but  I  shall live on as an undead, and  that  would  be
horrible.'
  Rex  passed his hand wearily across his eyes. 'Don't speak  in
riddles, treasure. What is this thing you're frightened of? Just
tell me now in ordinary, plain English.'
  'All right. I suppose you have heard of a vampire.'
  'Why,  yes. I've read of them in fiction. They're supposed  to
come  out  of  their graves every night and drink the  blood  of
human  beings, aren't they? Until they're found out, then  their
graves  are  opened up for a priest to cut off  their  head  and
drive  stakes  through their hearts. Is that what  you  call  an
undead?'
  Tanith  nodded  slowly. 'Yes, that is  an  undead-a  foul,  re
volting  thing,  a living corpse that creeps through  the  night
like  a  great  white  slug, and a body  bloated  from  drinking
people's  blood. But have you never read of them in other  books
beside nightmare fiction?'
  'No,  I  wouldn't exactly say I have as far as I can remember.
The  Duke would know all about them for a certainty -and Richard
Eaton too, I expect-because they're both great readers. But  I'm
just an ordinary chap who's content to take his reading from the
popular novelists who can turn out a good, interesting story. Do
you  mean  to  tell me seriously that such creatures  have  ever
existed outside the thriller writer's imagination?'
  'I  do.  In  the  Carpathians, where I come  from,  the  whole
countryside is riddled with vampire stories from real life.  You
hear  of  them  in  Poland and Hungary and  Roumania,  too.  All
through  Middle Europe and right down into the Balkan  countries
there   have  been  endless  cases  of  such  revolting  Satanic
manifestations. Anyone there will tell you that time and  again,
when  graves  have  been  opened on suspicion,  the  corpses  of
vampires  have  been  found, months after  burial,  without  the
slightest  sign  of decay, their flesh pink and  flushed,  their
eyes wide-open, bright and staring. The only difference to their
previous appearance is the way in which their canine teeth  have
grown  long and pointed. Often, even, they have been found  with
fresh blood trickling out of the sides of then-mouths.'
  'Say,  that sounds pretty grim,' Rex exclaimed with  a  little
shudder.' I reckon De Richleau would explain that by saying that
the person was possessed before he died and that after, although
the  actual soul passed on, the evil spirit continued to make  a
doss-house of its borrowed body. But I can't think that anything
so awful would ever happen to you,'
  'It  might, my dear. That is what scares me so. And if  Mocata
did  get  hold  of me again he would not need to  perform  those
ghastly  rites  with impregnated blood. He could just  throw  me
into  the  hypnotic state and, after he had made me  do  all  he
wished,  allow some terrible thing to take possession of  me  at
once. The elemental would still remain in my body when he killed
me,  and  I  should become one of those loathsome  creatures-the
undead, if that happened, this very night.'
  'Stop!   I can't bear to think of it,' Rex drew her quickly-to
him  again. 'But he shan't get hold of you. We'll fight him till
all's  blue, and I'm going to marry you to-morrow so that I  can
be  with you constantly. We'll apply for a special licence first
thing in the morning.
  She  nodded, and a new light of hope came into her  eyes.  'If
you wish it, Rex,' she whispered, 'and I do believe that by your
love and strength, you can save me. But you mustn't leave me for
a single second tonight, and we mustn't sleep a wink. Listen!'
  She  paused a moment as the bell in the village steeple chimed
the  twelve  strokes of midnight, which came to them clearly  in
the stillness of the quiet room. 'It is the second of May now
  -my fatal day.'
  He  smiled indulgently. 'Sure, I won't leave you, and we won't
sleep either. One of us might drop off if we were all alone, but
together we'll prod each other into keeping awake. Though I just
can't  think  that'll be necessary, with all the million  things
I've got to tell you about your sweet self.'
  She  stood up then, raising her arms to smooth back her  hair,
and making a graceful, slender silhouette against the flickering
flames of the heaped-up fire.
  'No.  The night will slip away before we know it,' she  agreed
more cheerfully. 'Because I've got a thousand things to tell you
too. I must just slip upstairs to powder my nose now, and when I
come  back, we'll settle down in earnest to make a night  of  it
together.'
  A  quick frown crossed his face. 'I thought you said I  wasn't
to  let you leave me even for a second. I don't like your  going
upstairs alone at all.'
  'But, my dear!' Tanith gave a little laugh. 'I can hardly take
you with me, and I shan't be more than a few moments.'
  Rex  nodded,  reassured as he saw her standing there,  smiling
down  at him in the firelight so happy and normal in every  way.
He  felt certain that he would know at once if Mocata was trying
to  exert his power on her from a distance, by that strange far-
away  look  which had come into her eyes and the fanatical  note
that  had raised the pitch of her voice each time she had spoken
of  the  imperative necessity of her reaching the  meeting-place
for  the  Sabbat on the previous day. There was not the faintest
suggestion of that other will, imposed upon her own, in her face
or  voice  now,  and obviously it would have  been  childish  to
attempt  to  prevent her carrying out so sensible  a  suggestion
before  settling  down. The best part of six hours  must  elapse
before daylight began to filter greyly through the old-fashioned
bow window at the far end of the room.
  'All  right,'  he laughed. Til give you five minutes  by  that
clock-but  no more, remember, and if you're not down then,  I'll
come up and get you.'
  'Dear  lover!'  she  stooped suddenly  and  kissed  him,  then
slipped out of the room closing the door softly behind her.
  Rex lay back, spreading his great limbs now in the comfortable
corner of the inglenook, and stretching out his long legs to the
glow of the log fire. He wasn't sleepy, which amazed him when he
thought how little sleep he had had since he woke in his  state-
room  on the giant Cunarder the morning of the day that he dined
with  De  Richleau.  That seemed ages ago  now,  weeks,  months,
years.  So  many things had happened, so many new and staggering
thoughts  come to seethe and ferment in his brain,  yet  Simon's
party had been held only a bare two nights before.
  His  hand  moved lazily to his hip pocket to get a  cigarette,
but half way to it he abandoned the attempt as too much trouble,
wriggling down instead more comfortably about the cushions.
  He  wasn't  sleepy-not a bit. His brain had  never  been  more
active  and  his thoughts turned for a moment to his friends  at
Cardinals  Folly.  They, too, would be wide  awake,  braced,  no
doubt,  under De Richleau's determined leadership,  to  face  an
attack  from  the  powers of evil. De Richleau must  be  feeling
pretty  sleepy  he thought. Neither of them had  had  more  than
three  hours  that  morning after their exhausting  night.  They
hadn't got to bed much before dawn the night before either,  and
the Duke had been up, according to Max, at seven in order to  be
at  the  British  Museum directly it opened. Say  six  hours  in
sixty.  That wasn't much, but De Richleau was an old  campaigner
and he would stick it all right, Rex had no doubt.
  He  glanced at the clock, thinking it almost time that  Tanith
should  rejoin him, but saw that the slow-moving hand  had  only
advanced  two  minutes.  'Amazing how time  drags  when  one  is
watching  it,'  he  thought, and his mind  wandered  on  to  the
reflection  that he had been mighty wise not to  drink  anything
but  that  one glass of sherry and the burgundy for  dinner.  He
would  probably have been horribly drowsy by now if he had  been
fool enough to fall for the cocktails or the port. But he wasn't
sleepy-not a bit.
  His mind began to form little mental pictures of some of those
strange  episodes which he had lived through  in  the  last  two
days-old  Madame D'Urfe smoking her cigar and then  Tanith;  Max
arranging  the  cushions  in  De Richleau's  electric  canoe  at
Pangbourne,  and  then Tanith again. That plausible  old  humbug
Wilkes serving the Clos de Vougoet with meticulous care-a mighty
fine  thing  he made out of this pub no doubt -and  then  Tanith
once more, sitting opposite him at table, with the soft glow  of
the  shaded  electric lamp lighting her oval face  and  throwing
strange shadows in the silken web of her golden hair.
  He  glanced at the clock again-another minute had crawled  by,
and  then  he  pictured Tanith as he had seen  her  only  a  few
moments  before, bending to kiss him, her face warm and  flushed
by  the firelight, and those strange, deep, age-old eyes of hers
smiling tenderly into his beneath their heavy half-lowered lids.
It  must  be  this strange wonderful love for her,  he  thought,
which  kept  him so alive and alert, for ordinarily his  healthy
body  demanded  its fair share of sleep and he would  have  been
nodding  his  head off by this time. He could  still  see  those
glorious  golden eyes of hers smiling into his. The  face  above
them  was  indistinct  and vague, but they  remained  clear  and
shining  in  the  shadows on the far side of the fireplace.  The
eyes  were changing now a little-losing their colour and  fading
from  gold  to grey and then to a palish blue. Yet their  bright
ness  seemed  to increase and they grew bigger as he  held  them
with his mental gaze.
  He  thought  for a second of glancing at the clock  again.  It
seemed that Tanith had left him ages ago now, but judging by the
time  it  had  taken for that long hand to crawl  through  three
minutes' space he felt that it could hardly yet have covered the
other  two. Besides, he did not want to lose the focus of  those
strange, bright eyes which he could see so plainly when he  half
closed his own.
  Rex  wasn't sleepy-not a bit. But time is an illusion, and Rex
never  afterwards knew how long he sat awake there in the  semi-
darkness.  Perhaps during the first portion of  his  watch  some
strange  power deluded his vision and the clock had  in  reality
moved  on  while  he  only thought that the minutes  dragged  so
heavily.  In  any  case, those eyes that watched  him  from  the
shadows were his last conscious thought, and next moment Rex was
sound asleep.


                               27

                       Within the Pentacle

  While  Rex  slumbered evenly and peacefully before  the  dying
fire  in  the lounge of the 'Pride of Peacocks,' Richard,  Marie
Lou, the Duke and Simon waited in the pentacle, on the floor  of
the library at Cardinals Folly, for the dreary hours of night to
drag their way to morning.
  They lay with their heads towards the centre of the circle and
their  feet towards the rim, forming a human cross, but although
they  did not speak for a long time after they had settled down,
none of them managed to drop off to sleep.
  The  layer  of  clean  sheets and blankets  beneath  them  was
pleasant enough to rest on for a while, but the hard, unyielding
floorboards  under it soon began to cause them  discomfort.  The
bright flames of the burning candles and the steady glow of  the
electric light showed pink through their closed eyelids,  making
repose  difficult, and they were all keyed up to varying degrees
of anxious expectancy.
  Marie Lou was restless and miserable. Nothing but her fondness
for  Simon, and the Duke's plea that the presence of Richard and
herself  would  help  enormously in his protection,  would  have
induced  her  to  play  any part in such proceedings.  Her  firm
belief in the supernatural filled her with grim forebodings, and
she  tried in vain to shut out her fears by sleep. Every  little
noise that broke the brooding stillness, the creaking of a  beam
as  the  old  house  eased itself upon its foundations,  or  the
whisper  of the breeze as it rustled the leaves of the trees  hi
the  garden,  caused her to start-wide awake again, her  muscles
taut with alarm and apprehension.
  Richard did not attempt to sleep. He lay revolving a number of
problems  in his mind. Fleur d'amour's birthday was in a  couple
of  weeks' tune. The child was easy, but a present for Marie Lou
was  a  different question. It must be something that she wanted
and  yet  a  surprise. A difficult matter when she  already  had
everything  with  which his fine fortune could  endow  her,  and
jewellery was not only banal but absurd. The sale of the  lesser
stones among the Shulimoff treasure, which they had brought  out
of  Russia,  had realised enough to provide her with a  handsome
independent  income and her retention of the  finer  gems  alone
equipped her magnificently in that direction. He toyed with  the
idea  of buying her a two-year-old. He was not a racing man  but
she  was  fond of horses and it would be fun for her to see  her
own run at the lesser meetings.
  After  a while he turned restlessly on to his tummy, and began
to ponder this wretched muddle into which Simon had got himself.
The  more he thought about it the less he could subscribe to the
Duke's  obvious  beliefs. That so-called Black Magic  was  still
practised  in most of the Continental capitals and many  of  the
great  cities in America, he knew. He had even met a man, a  few
years  before,  who  had  told  him  that  he  had  attended   a
celebration  of  the Black Mass at a house in  the  Earls  Court
district  of  London, yet he could not credit that it  had  been
anything  more than a flimsy excuse for a crowd of  intellectual
decadents  to  get  disgustingly  drunk  and  participate  in  a
wholesale  sexual  orgy. Simon was not  that  sort,  or  a  fool
either,  so  it  was  certainly queer that he  should  have  got
himself mixed up with such beastliness.
  Richard turned over again, yawned, glanced at his friend whom,
he decided, he had never seen look more normal, and wondered if,
out  of courtesy to the Duke, he could possibly continue to play
his part in this tedious farce until morning.
  The  banishing  rituals which De Richleau had  performed  upon
Simon  the  previous  night at Stonehenge had  certainly  proved
successful,  and  he  had had a good sleep that  afternoon.  His
brain  was  now quick and clear as it had been in the  old  days
and, although Mocata's threats were principally directed against
himself,  he was by far the most cheerful of the party.  Despite
his  recent  experiences, his natural humour  bubbling  up  very
nearly  caused him to laugh at the thought of them all lying  on
that  hard  floor because he had made an idiot of  himself,  and
Richard's obvious disgust at the discomforts imposed by the Duke
caused him much amusement. Nevertheless, he recognised that  his
desire  to laugh was mainly due to nervous tension, and accepted
with   full  understanding  the  necessity  for  these   extreme
precautions.  To  think, for only a second, of  how  narrow  his
escape  had  been was enough to sober instantly any tendency  to
mirth  and send a quick shudder through his limbs. He  was  only
anxious  now,  having  dragged his friends  into  this  horrible
affair,  to cause them as little further trouble as possible  by
following the Duke's leadership without question. With  resolute
determination he kept his thoughts away from any of his dealings
with Mocata and set himself to endure his comfortless couch with
philosophic patience.
  To  outward  appearances De Richleau slept. He  lay  perfectly
still on his back breathing evenly and almost imperceptibly, but
he  had  always been able to do with very little sleep. Actually
he  was  recruiting his forces in a manner that was not possible
to  the  others. That gentle rhythmic breathing,  perfectly  but
unconsciously timed from long practice, was the way of the  Raja
Yoga  which  he  had  learnt when young, and  all  the  time  he
visualised   himself,   the   others,   the   whole   room    as
blue-blue-blue,  the  colour  vibration  which  gives  love  and
sympathy and spiritual attainment. Yet he was conscious of every
tiny  movement  made by the others; the gentle  sighing  of  the
breeze outside, and the occasional plop of burning logs as  they
fell  into  the  embers. For over two hours he  barely  moved  a
muscle but all his senses remained watchful and alert.
  The night seemed never-ending. Outside the wind dropped and  a
steady  rain began to fall, dripping with monotonous  regularity
from  the eaves on to the terrace. Richard became more and  more
sore  from  the hard floor. He was tired now and bored  by  this
apparently  senseless vigil. He thought that it  must  be  about
half  past one, and daylight would not come to release them from
their  voluntary prison before half past five or six. That meant
another  four  hours  of  this acute and momentarily  increasing
discomfort. As he tossed and turned it grew upon him with  ever-
increasing force how stupid and futile this whole affair  seemed
to  be.  De  Richleau was so obviously the victim of a  gang  of
clever tricksters, a