All the way up from the inn half-formed fears had been
troubling De Richleau that they might fall foul of this ill-
omened brotherhood. He assumed them to be little less than
robbers under a thin disguise, who probably eked out a miserable
existence by levying toll in corn and oil and goats' milk upon
the neighbouring peasantry, but this great pile upon the slopes
of Mount Peristeri was so much more vast than anything that he
had imagined. A matter of fifty men might easily be lost among
its rambling courts and buildings.
They advanced through another great courtyard, surrounded by
ruined colonnades which were visible only by the faint starlight
from above. Built by some early Christian saint, when Byzantium
was still an Empire and Western Europe labouring through the
semi-barbarous night of the Dark Ages, the colossal ruin must
once have housed thousands of earnest men, all engaged day by
day in pious study, or various active tasks to provide for that
great community. Now it was as dead as those African temples
which have been overgrown by jungle, only a small fragment of it
occupied by a small band of dissolute uncultured rogues.
In wonder and awe they passed up the broad flight of steps,
through the vast portico on which the elaborate carvings, worn
and disfigured by time, were just discernible, into the body of
the Church.
The starlight, filtering dimly through the great rent in the
dome a hundred feet above their heads, was barely sufficient to
light their way as they scrambled over broken pillars and heaps
of debris round the walls until they found a low door. From it,
a flight of steps led down into the Stygian blackness of the
volts below.
Marie Lou, stumbling along half-bemused between Simon and
Richard, found herself wondering what they could be doing in
this ancient ruin, then memory flooded back. It was here, below
them, that the Talisman of Set was buried. There had been no fog
in the courtyard outside so they must have got there before
Mocata after all-but where was Fleur? She was going to die-she
felt that she was dying-but first she must find Fleur.
The others had halted and Richard noticed then that De
Richleau was carrying an old-fashioned lantern, which he
supposed he had borrowed at the inn. The Duke lit the stump of
candle that was inside it and led the way down those time-worn
stairs. The others, treading instinctively on tiptoe, now
followed him into the stale, musty darkness.
At the bottom of the steps they came out into a low, vaulted
crypt which, by the faint light of the lantern, seemed to spread
interminably under the flagstones of the Church;
De Richleau turned to the east, judging the altar of the crypt
to be situated below the one in the Church above, but when he
had traversed twenty yards he halted suddenly. A black, solid
mass blocked their path in the centre of the vault.
'Of course,' Marie Lou heard him murmur. 'I forgot that this
place was built such centuries ago. Altars were placed in the
centre of churches then. This must be it.'
'We've beaten him to it, then,' Rex's voice came with a little
note of triumph.
'Perhaps he couldn't get anyone to drive him up from Metsovo
at this hour of night,' Richard suggested. 'Our man was supposed
to be mad, or something, and they said that no one else would
go.'
'Those stones are going to take some shifting.' Rex took the
lantern and bent to examine the black slabs of the solid, oblong
altar,
'Are you certain that this is the right one?' Richard asked.
'My brain seems to be going. I can't remember things properly
any more but I thought when we got the information from Simon in
his trance he said something about a side-chapel in the crypt.'
No one answered. While his words were still ringing in their
ears each one of them suddenly felt that he was being overlooked
from behind.
Rex dropped the lantern, De Richleau swung round, Marie Lou
gave a faint cry. A dull light had appeared only ten paces in
their rear. Leading to it they saw a short flight of steps.
Beyond, a chapel with a smaller altar, from which the right-hand
stone had been wrenched. And there, standing before it, was
Mocata.
With a bellow of fury, Rex started forward, but the Satanist
suddenly raised his left hand. In it he held a small black cigar-
shaped thing, which was slightly curved. About it there was a
phosphorescent glow, so that, despite the semi-darkness, the
very blackness of the thing itself stood out clear and sharp
against its surrounding aura of misty light. The rays from it
seemed to impinge upon then' bodies, instantly checking their
advance. They found themselves transfixed-brought to a
standstill in a running group-half-way between the central altar
and the chapel steps.
Without uttering a word, Mocata came down the steps and slowly
walked round them, carrying the thing which they now guessed to
be the Talisman aloft in his left hand. A glowing phosphorescent
circle appeared on the damp stone flags in his tracks and, as he
completed the circuit, they felt their limbs relax.
Again they rushed at him, but were brought up with a jerk. It
was impossible to break out of that magic circle in which he had
confined them.
With slow steps, the Satanist returned to the chapel and
proceeded to light a row of black candles upon the broken altar
there. Then, with a little gasp of unutterable fear, Marie Lou
saw that Fleur was crouching in a dark corner near the upturned
earth from which the Talisman had been recovered.
'Fleur-darling!' she cried imploringly, stretching out her
arms, but the child did not seem to hear. With round eyes she
knelt there near the altar, staring out towards the crypt, but
apparently seeing nothing.
Mocata lit some incense in a censer and swung it rhythmically
before the broken altar,murmuring strange invocations.
He moved so smoothly and silently that he might have been a
phantom but for the lisping intonation of his low musical voice.
Then Fleur began to cry, and the sobbing of the child had an
unmistakable reality which tore at the very fibre of their
hearts.
Again and again they tried to break out of the circle, but at
last, forced to give up their frantic attempts, they crouched
together straining against the invisible barrier, watching with
fear-distended eyes as a gradual materialisation began to form
in the clouds of incense above the altar stone.
At first it seemed to be the face of Mocata's black familiar
that Rex had seen in Simon's house, but it changed and
lengthened. A pointed beard appeared on the chin and four great
curved horns sprouted from the head. Soon it became definite,
clear and solid. That monstrous, shaggy beast that had held
court on Salisbury Plain, the veritable Goat of Mendes, glared
at them with its red, baleful, slanting eyes, and belched
foetid, deathly breaths from its cavernous nostrils.
Mocata raised the Talisman and set it upon the forehead of the
Beast, laying it lengthwise upon the flat, bald, bony skull,
where it blazed like some magnificent jewel which had a strange
black centre. Then he stooped, seized the child and, tearing off
her clothes, flung her naked body full length upon the altar
beneath the raised fore-hooves of the Goat.
Sick with apprehension and frantic with distress, the
prisoners in the circle heard the sorcerer begin to intone the
terrible lines of the Black Mass.
Horrified but powerless, they watched the swinging of the
censer, the chanting of the blasphemous prayers, and the
blessing of the dagger by the Goat, knowing that at the con
clusion of the awful ceremony, the perverted maniac playing the
part of the devil's priest would rip the child open from throat
to groin while offering her soul to Hell.
Half crazy with fear, they saw Mocata pick up the knife and
raise his arm above the little body, about to strike.
33
Death of a Man Unknown,
From Natural Causes
Rex stood with the sweat pouring down his face. The muscles of
his arms jerked convulsively. His whole will was concentrated in
an effort to fling himself forward, up the steps; yet, except
for the tremors which ran through his body, the invisible power
held him motionless in its grip.
De Richleau prayed. Silent but inceasing, his soundless words
vibrated on the ether. He knew the futility of any attempt at
physical intervention, and doubted now if his supplications
could avail when pitted against such a terrible manifestation of
evil as the Goat of Mendes.
Richard crouched near him, his face white and bloodless, his
eyes staring. His arms were stretched out, as though to snatch
Fleur away or in an appeal for mercy, but he could not move
them.
Marie Lou had one hand resting on his shoulder. She was past
fear for herself, past all thought of that terrible end which
might come to them in a few moments, past even the horror of
losing Richard should they all be blotted out in some awful
final darkness.
She did not pray or strive to dash towards her child. The
pulsing of her heart seemed to be temporarily suspended. Her
brain was working with that strange clarity which only comes
upon those rare occasions when danger appears to be so over
whelming that there is no possible escape. Into her mind there
came a clear-cut picture of herself as she had been in her
dream, holding what De Richleau said was the great Red Book of
Appin. Her fingers could feel the very cover again with its soft
hairy skin.
Simon dropped to his knees between the Duke and Rex. He made
an effort to cast himself forward but rocked very slightly from
side to side, stricken with an agony of misery and remorse. It
was his folly which had led his friends into this terrible pass
and now he did the only thing he could to make atonement. His
brain no longer clouded, but with full knowledge of the enormity
of the thing, he offered himself silently to the Power of
Darkness if Fleur might be spared.
Mocata paused for a moment, the knife still poised above the
body of the child, to turn and look at him. The thought
vibration had been so strong that he had caught it, but he had
already drawn all that he needed out of Simon. Slowly his pale
lips crumpled in a cruel smile. He shook his head in rejection
of the offer and raised the knife again.
The Duke's hand jerked up in a frantic effort to stay the blow
by the sign of the cross, but it was struck down to his side by
one of the rays from the Talisman, just as though some powerful
physical force had hit it.
Richard's jaws opened as though about to shout but no sound
issued from them.
With a supreme effort Rex lowered his head to charge, but the
invisible weight of twenty men seemed to force back his
shoulders.
Before the mental eyes of Marie Lou the Red Book of Appin lay
open. Again she saw the stained vellum page and the faded
writing in strange characters upon it. And once more as in her
drearn she could understand the one sentence: 'They only who
Love without Desire shall have power granted to them in the
Darkest Hour.'
Then her lips opened. With no knowledge of its meaning, and a
certainty that she had never seen it written or heard it
pronounced before, she spoke a strange word-having five
syllables.
The effect was instantaneous. The whole chamber rocked as
though shaken by an earthquake. The walls receded, the floor
began to spin. The crypt gyrated with such terrifying speed that
the occupants of the circle clutched frantically at each other
to save themselves from falling. The altar candles swayed and
danced before their distended eyes. The Talisman of Set was
swept from between the horns of the monstrous Goat, and bouncing
down the steps of the chapel, came to rest on the stone flags at
De Richleau's feet.
Mocata staggered back. The Goat reared up on its hind legs
above him. A terrible neighing sound came from its nostrils and
the slanting eyes swivelled in their sockets; their baleful
light flashing round the chamber. The Beast seemed to grow and
expand until it was towering above them all as they crouched,
petrified with fear. The stench of its foetid breath poured from
between the bared teeth until they were retching with nausea.
Mocata's knife clattered upon the stones as he raised his arms
in frantic terror to defend himself. The awful thing which he
had called up out of the Pit gave a final screaming neigh and
struck with one of its great fore-hooves. He was thrown with
frightful force to the floor, where he lay sprawled head
downmost on the chapel steps.
There was a thunderous crash as though the heavens were
opening. The crypt ceased to rock and spin. The Satanic figure
dissolved in upon itself. For a fraction of time the watchers in
the circle saw the black human face of the Malagasy, distorted
with pain and rage, where that of the Goat had been before. Then
that too disappeared behind a veil of curling smoke.
The black candles on the altar flickered and went out. The
chamber remained lit only by the phosphorescent glow from the
Talisman. De Richleau had snatched it from the floor and held it
in his open hand. By its faint light they saw Fleur sit up. She
gave a little wail and slid from the low altar stone to the
ground; then she stood gaping towards her mother, yet her eyes
were round and sightless like those of one who walks in her
sleep.
Suddenly an utter silence beyond human understanding descended
like a cloak and closed in from the shadows that were all about
them.
Almost imperceptibly a faint unearthly music, coming from some
immense distance, reached their ears. At first it sounded like
the splashing of spring water in a rock-bound cave, but
gradually it grew in volume, and swelled into a strange chant
rendered by boys' voices of unimaginable purity. All fear had
gone from them as, one by one, they fell upon their knees and
listened entranced to the wonder and the beauty of that litany
of praise. Yet all their eyes were riveted on Fleur.
The child walked very slowly forward but, as she advanced,
some extraordinary change was taking place about her. The little
body, naked a moment before, became clothed in a golden mist.
Her shoulders broadened and she grew in height. Her features
became partially obscured, then they lost their infant roundness
and took on the bony structure of an adult. The diaphanous cloud
of light gradually materialised into the graceful folds of a
long, yellow, silken robe. The dark curls on the head
disappeared leaving a high, beautifully proportioned skull.
As the chant ceased on a great note of exultation all sem
blance to the child had vanished. In her place a full-grown man
stood before them. From his dress he had the appearance of a
Thibetan Lama, but his esthetic face was as much Aryan as
Mongolian, blending the highest characteristics of the two; and
just as it seemed that he had passed the barriers of race, so he
also appeared to have cast off the shackles of worldly time. His
countenance showed all the health and vigour of a man in the
great years when he has come to full physical development, and
yet it had the added beauty which is only seen in that of a
frail, scholarly divine who has devoted a whole lifetime to the
search for wisdom. The grave eyes which were bent upon them held
Strength, Knowledge, and Power, together with an infinite
tenderness and angelic compassion unknown to mortal man.
The apparition did not speak by word of mouth. Yet each one of
the kneeling group heard the low, silver, bell-like voice with
perfect clearness.
'I am a Lord of Light nearing perfection after many lives, It
is wrong that you should draw me from my meditations in the
Hidden Valley-yet I pardon you because your need was great. One
here has imperilled the flame of Life by seeking to use hidden
mysteries for an evil purpose; another also, who lies beyond the
waters, has been stricken in her earthly body for that same
reason. The love you bear each other has been a barrier and
protection, yet would it have availed you nothing had it not
been for She who is the Mother. The Preserver barkens ever to
the prayer which goes forth innocent of all self-desire and so,
for a moment, I am permitted to appear 'to you through the
medium of this child whose thoughts know no impurity. The
Adversary has been driven back to the dark Halls of Shaitan and
shall trouble you no more. Live out the days of your allotted
span. Peace be upon you and about you. Sleep and Return.'
For a moment it seemed that they had been ripped right out of
the crypt and were looking down into it. The circle had become a
flaming sun. Their bodies were dark shadows grouped in its
centre. The peace and silence of death surged over them in great
saturating waves. They were above the monastery. The great ruin
became a black speck in the distance. Then everything faded.
Time ceased, and it seemed that for a thousand thousand years
they floated, atoms of radiant matter in an immense immeasurable
void-circling, for ever circling in the soundless
stratosphere-beings shut off from every feeling and sensation,
as though travelling with effortless impulse five hundred
fathoms deep, below the current levels of some uncharted sea.
Then, after a passage of eons in human time they saw Cardinals
Folly again infinitely far beneath them, their bodies lying in
the pentacle-and that darkened room. In an utter eerie silence
the dust of centuries was falling . . . falling. Softly,
impalpably, like infinitely tiny particles of swansdown it
seemed to cover them, the room, and all that was in it, with a
fine grey powder.
* * * * *
De Richleau raised his head. It seemed to him that he had been
on a long journey and then slept for many days. He passed his
hand across his eyes and saw the familiar bookshelves in the
semi-darkened library. The bulbs above the cornice flickered and
the lights came full on.
He saw that Simon's eyes were free from that terrible maniacal
glare, but that he still lay bound in the centre of the
pentacle.
As he bent forward and hastily began to untie Simon's turning
they saw him. Tall-haggard-distraught-a dark fondling her and
murmuring. 'We're safe, darling-safe.'
'She-she's not dead-is she?' It was Rex's voice, and turning
they saw him. Tall-haggard-distraught-a dark silhouette against
the early morning light which filtered in through the french-
windows-bearing Tanith's body in his arms.
Marie Lou sprang up with a little wailing cry. With Richard
behind her she raced across the room and through the door in the
wall which concealed the staircase to the nursery.
The Duke hurried over to Rex. Simon kicked his feet free and
stood up, exclaiming: 'I"ve had a most extraordinary dream.'
'About all of us going to Paris?' asked De Richleau, as the
three of them lowered Tanith's body to the floor, 'and then on
to a ruined monastery in northern Greece?'
'That's it-but how-did you know?'
'Because I had the same myself-if it was a dream!'
An hysterical laugh came from the stairway and next moment
Marie Lou was beside them, great tears streaming down her face,
but Fleur clutched safely in her arms.
The child, freshly woken from her sleep, gazed at them with
wide, blue eyes, and then she said: 'Fleur wants to go to
Simon.'
The Duke was examining Tanith. Simon rose from beside him. His
eyes held all the love that surged in the great heart which beat
between his narrow shoulders. He covered his short-sighted eyes
with his hands for a second then backed away. 'No, Fleur,
darling-I've been-I'm still ill you know.'
'Nonsense-that's all over,' Richard cried quickly, 'go on- for
God's sake take her-Marie Lou's going to faint.'
'Oh, Richard! Richard!' As Simon grabbed the child, Marie Lou
swayed towards her husband, and leaning on him drew her fingers
softly down his face. 'I will be all right in a moment -but it
was a dream-wasn't it?'
'She's alive!' exclaimed the Duke suddenly, his hand pressed
below Tanith's heart. 'Quick, Rex-some brandy.'
'Of course, dearest,' Richard was comforting Marie Lou. 'We've
never been out of this room-look, except Rex, we are still in
pyjamas.'
'Why, yes-I thought-- Oh, but look at this poor girl!' She
slipped from his arms and knelt beside Tanith.
Rex came crashing back with a decanter and a glass. De
Richleau snatched the brandy from him. Marie Lou piliowed
Tanith's head upon her knees and Richard held her chin. Between
them they succeeded in getting a little of the spirit down her
throat; a spasm crossed her face and then her eyes opened.
'Thank God!' breathed Rex. 'Thank God.'
She smiled and whispered his name, as the natural colour
flooded back into her face.
'Never-never have I had such a terrible nightmare!' exclaimed
Marie Lou. 'We were in a crypt-and that awful man was there.
He...'
'So you dreamed it too!' Simon interrupted. 'About you finding
me at that warehouse in Asnieres and the Paris police?'
'That's it,' said Richard. 'It's amazing that we should all
have dreamed the same thing but there's no other explanation for
it. None of us can possibly have left this house since we
settled down in the pentacle-- Yes, last night!'
'Then I've certainly been dreaming too.' Rex lifted his eyes
for a moment from Tanith's face. 'It must have started with me
when I fell asleep at the inn-or earlier, for I'd have sworn De
Richleau and I were out all the night before careering around
half of England to stop some devilry.'
'We were,' said the Duke slowly. 'Tanith's presence here
proves that, but she was never dead except in our dream, and
that started when you arrived here with her in your arms. The
Satanists at Simon's house, our visit there afterwards, and the
Sabbat were all facts. It was only last night, while our bodies
slept, that our subconscious selves were drawn out of them to
continue the struggle with Mocata on another plane.'
'Mocata!' Simon echoed. 'But-but if we've been dreaming he is
still alive.'
'No, he is dead.' The quiet, sure statement came from Tanith
as she sat up, and taking Rex's hand scrambled to her feet.
'How is it you're so certain?' he asked huskily.
'I can see him. He is not far from here-lying head downwards
on some steps.'
That's how we saw him in the dream,' said Richard, but she
shook her head.
'No, I. had no dream, I remember nothing after Mocata entered
my room at the inn and forced me to sleep-but you will find
him-somewhere quite near the house-out there.'
'The age-old law,' De Richfeau murmured. 'A life for a life
and a soul for a soul. Yes, since you have been restored to us I
am quite certain that he will have paid the penalty.'
Simon nodded. 'Then we're really free of this nightmare at
last?'
'Yes. Dream or no dream, the Lord of Light who appeared to us
drove back the Power of Darkness, and promised that we should
all live unmolested by it to the end of our allotted span. Come,
Richard,' the Duke took his host's arm, 'let us find our coats
and take a look round the garden-then we shall have done with
this horrible business.'
As they moved away Tanith smiled up at Rex. 'Did you really
mean what you said last night?'
'Did I mean it!' he cried, seizing both her hands. 'Just you
let me show you how!'
'Simon,' said Marie Lou pointedly, 'that child will catch her
death of cold in nothing but her nightie-do take her back to the
nursery while I get the servants to hurry forward breakfast.'
And the old familiar happy smile parted his wide mouth as Fleur
took a flying leap into his arms.
Tanith's face grew a little wistful as Rex drew her to him.
'My darling,' she hesitated, 'you know that it will be only for
a little time, about eight months-no more.'
'Nonsense!' he laughed. 'You were certainly dead to all of us
last night, so your prophecy's been fulfilled and the evil
lifted-we're both going to live together for a hundred years.'
She hid her face against his shoulder, not quite believing
yet, but a new hope dawning in her heart, from his certainty
that she had passed through the Valley of the Shadow and come
out again upon the other side. Her happiness, and his, demanded
that she accept his view and act henceforth as though the danger
to her life was past.
'Then if you want them, my days are yours,' she murmured,
'whatever their number may be.'
There was no trace of fog and a fair, true dawn was breaking
when, outside the library windows, De Richleau and Richard found
Mocata's body. It lay on the stone steps which fed up to the
terrace, sprawling head downwards, in the early light of the May
morning.
The coroner will find no difficulty in bringing in a verdict,'
the Duke observed after one glance at the face. 'They'll say it
is heart, of course. It is best not to touch the body, presently
we will telephone the police. None of us need say we have ever
seen him before if you tell Malin to keep quiet about his visit
yesterday afternoon. You may be certain that his friends will
not come forward to mention his acquaintance with Simon or the
girl.'
Richard nodded. 'Yes. "Death of a Man Unknown, from Natural
Causes," will be the only epilogue to this strange story.'
'Not quite, but this must be between us, Richard. I prefer
that the others should not know. Take me to your boiler-house.'
'The boiier-house-whatever for?'
Til tell you in a minute,'
'Alt right!' With a puzzled look Richard led the Duke along
the terrace, round by the kitchen quarters and into a small
building where a furnace gave a subdued roar.
De Richleau lifted the latch and the door swung back,
disclosing the glowing coke within. Then he extended his right
fist and slowly opened it.
'Good God!' exclaimed Richard, 'However did you come by that?'
In De Richleau's palm lay a shrunken, mummified phallus,
measuring no more than the length of a little finger, hard, dry,
and almost black with age. It was the Talisman of Set, just as
they had seen it in their recent dream adorning the brow of the
monstrous Goat.
'I found myself clutching it when I awoke,' he answered
softly.
'But-but that thing must have come from somewhere!'
'Perhaps it is a concrete symbol of the evil that we have
fought, which has been given over into our hands for destruc
tion.'
As the Duke finished speaking he cast the Talisman into the
glowing furnace where they watched it until it was utterly
consumed.
'If we were only dreaming how can you possibly explain it?'
Richard insisted.
'I cannot.' De Richleau shrugged a little wearily. 'Even the
greatest seekers after Truth have done little more than lift the
corner of the veil which hides the vast Unknown, but it is my
belief that during the period of our dream journey we have been
living in what the moderns call the fourth dimension- divorced
from time.'
troubling De Richleau that they might fall foul of this ill-
omened brotherhood. He assumed them to be little less than
robbers under a thin disguise, who probably eked out a miserable
existence by levying toll in corn and oil and goats' milk upon
the neighbouring peasantry, but this great pile upon the slopes
of Mount Peristeri was so much more vast than anything that he
had imagined. A matter of fifty men might easily be lost among
its rambling courts and buildings.
They advanced through another great courtyard, surrounded by
ruined colonnades which were visible only by the faint starlight
from above. Built by some early Christian saint, when Byzantium
was still an Empire and Western Europe labouring through the
semi-barbarous night of the Dark Ages, the colossal ruin must
once have housed thousands of earnest men, all engaged day by
day in pious study, or various active tasks to provide for that
great community. Now it was as dead as those African temples
which have been overgrown by jungle, only a small fragment of it
occupied by a small band of dissolute uncultured rogues.
In wonder and awe they passed up the broad flight of steps,
through the vast portico on which the elaborate carvings, worn
and disfigured by time, were just discernible, into the body of
the Church.
The starlight, filtering dimly through the great rent in the
dome a hundred feet above their heads, was barely sufficient to
light their way as they scrambled over broken pillars and heaps
of debris round the walls until they found a low door. From it,
a flight of steps led down into the Stygian blackness of the
volts below.
Marie Lou, stumbling along half-bemused between Simon and
Richard, found herself wondering what they could be doing in
this ancient ruin, then memory flooded back. It was here, below
them, that the Talisman of Set was buried. There had been no fog
in the courtyard outside so they must have got there before
Mocata after all-but where was Fleur? She was going to die-she
felt that she was dying-but first she must find Fleur.
The others had halted and Richard noticed then that De
Richleau was carrying an old-fashioned lantern, which he
supposed he had borrowed at the inn. The Duke lit the stump of
candle that was inside it and led the way down those time-worn
stairs. The others, treading instinctively on tiptoe, now
followed him into the stale, musty darkness.
At the bottom of the steps they came out into a low, vaulted
crypt which, by the faint light of the lantern, seemed to spread
interminably under the flagstones of the Church;
De Richleau turned to the east, judging the altar of the crypt
to be situated below the one in the Church above, but when he
had traversed twenty yards he halted suddenly. A black, solid
mass blocked their path in the centre of the vault.
'Of course,' Marie Lou heard him murmur. 'I forgot that this
place was built such centuries ago. Altars were placed in the
centre of churches then. This must be it.'
'We've beaten him to it, then,' Rex's voice came with a little
note of triumph.
'Perhaps he couldn't get anyone to drive him up from Metsovo
at this hour of night,' Richard suggested. 'Our man was supposed
to be mad, or something, and they said that no one else would
go.'
'Those stones are going to take some shifting.' Rex took the
lantern and bent to examine the black slabs of the solid, oblong
altar,
'Are you certain that this is the right one?' Richard asked.
'My brain seems to be going. I can't remember things properly
any more but I thought when we got the information from Simon in
his trance he said something about a side-chapel in the crypt.'
No one answered. While his words were still ringing in their
ears each one of them suddenly felt that he was being overlooked
from behind.
Rex dropped the lantern, De Richleau swung round, Marie Lou
gave a faint cry. A dull light had appeared only ten paces in
their rear. Leading to it they saw a short flight of steps.
Beyond, a chapel with a smaller altar, from which the right-hand
stone had been wrenched. And there, standing before it, was
Mocata.
With a bellow of fury, Rex started forward, but the Satanist
suddenly raised his left hand. In it he held a small black cigar-
shaped thing, which was slightly curved. About it there was a
phosphorescent glow, so that, despite the semi-darkness, the
very blackness of the thing itself stood out clear and sharp
against its surrounding aura of misty light. The rays from it
seemed to impinge upon then' bodies, instantly checking their
advance. They found themselves transfixed-brought to a
standstill in a running group-half-way between the central altar
and the chapel steps.
Without uttering a word, Mocata came down the steps and slowly
walked round them, carrying the thing which they now guessed to
be the Talisman aloft in his left hand. A glowing phosphorescent
circle appeared on the damp stone flags in his tracks and, as he
completed the circuit, they felt their limbs relax.
Again they rushed at him, but were brought up with a jerk. It
was impossible to break out of that magic circle in which he had
confined them.
With slow steps, the Satanist returned to the chapel and
proceeded to light a row of black candles upon the broken altar
there. Then, with a little gasp of unutterable fear, Marie Lou
saw that Fleur was crouching in a dark corner near the upturned
earth from which the Talisman had been recovered.
'Fleur-darling!' she cried imploringly, stretching out her
arms, but the child did not seem to hear. With round eyes she
knelt there near the altar, staring out towards the crypt, but
apparently seeing nothing.
Mocata lit some incense in a censer and swung it rhythmically
before the broken altar,murmuring strange invocations.
He moved so smoothly and silently that he might have been a
phantom but for the lisping intonation of his low musical voice.
Then Fleur began to cry, and the sobbing of the child had an
unmistakable reality which tore at the very fibre of their
hearts.
Again and again they tried to break out of the circle, but at
last, forced to give up their frantic attempts, they crouched
together straining against the invisible barrier, watching with
fear-distended eyes as a gradual materialisation began to form
in the clouds of incense above the altar stone.
At first it seemed to be the face of Mocata's black familiar
that Rex had seen in Simon's house, but it changed and
lengthened. A pointed beard appeared on the chin and four great
curved horns sprouted from the head. Soon it became definite,
clear and solid. That monstrous, shaggy beast that had held
court on Salisbury Plain, the veritable Goat of Mendes, glared
at them with its red, baleful, slanting eyes, and belched
foetid, deathly breaths from its cavernous nostrils.
Mocata raised the Talisman and set it upon the forehead of the
Beast, laying it lengthwise upon the flat, bald, bony skull,
where it blazed like some magnificent jewel which had a strange
black centre. Then he stooped, seized the child and, tearing off
her clothes, flung her naked body full length upon the altar
beneath the raised fore-hooves of the Goat.
Sick with apprehension and frantic with distress, the
prisoners in the circle heard the sorcerer begin to intone the
terrible lines of the Black Mass.
Horrified but powerless, they watched the swinging of the
censer, the chanting of the blasphemous prayers, and the
blessing of the dagger by the Goat, knowing that at the con
clusion of the awful ceremony, the perverted maniac playing the
part of the devil's priest would rip the child open from throat
to groin while offering her soul to Hell.
Half crazy with fear, they saw Mocata pick up the knife and
raise his arm above the little body, about to strike.
33
Death of a Man Unknown,
From Natural Causes
Rex stood with the sweat pouring down his face. The muscles of
his arms jerked convulsively. His whole will was concentrated in
an effort to fling himself forward, up the steps; yet, except
for the tremors which ran through his body, the invisible power
held him motionless in its grip.
De Richleau prayed. Silent but inceasing, his soundless words
vibrated on the ether. He knew the futility of any attempt at
physical intervention, and doubted now if his supplications
could avail when pitted against such a terrible manifestation of
evil as the Goat of Mendes.
Richard crouched near him, his face white and bloodless, his
eyes staring. His arms were stretched out, as though to snatch
Fleur away or in an appeal for mercy, but he could not move
them.
Marie Lou had one hand resting on his shoulder. She was past
fear for herself, past all thought of that terrible end which
might come to them in a few moments, past even the horror of
losing Richard should they all be blotted out in some awful
final darkness.
She did not pray or strive to dash towards her child. The
pulsing of her heart seemed to be temporarily suspended. Her
brain was working with that strange clarity which only comes
upon those rare occasions when danger appears to be so over
whelming that there is no possible escape. Into her mind there
came a clear-cut picture of herself as she had been in her
dream, holding what De Richleau said was the great Red Book of
Appin. Her fingers could feel the very cover again with its soft
hairy skin.
Simon dropped to his knees between the Duke and Rex. He made
an effort to cast himself forward but rocked very slightly from
side to side, stricken with an agony of misery and remorse. It
was his folly which had led his friends into this terrible pass
and now he did the only thing he could to make atonement. His
brain no longer clouded, but with full knowledge of the enormity
of the thing, he offered himself silently to the Power of
Darkness if Fleur might be spared.
Mocata paused for a moment, the knife still poised above the
body of the child, to turn and look at him. The thought
vibration had been so strong that he had caught it, but he had
already drawn all that he needed out of Simon. Slowly his pale
lips crumpled in a cruel smile. He shook his head in rejection
of the offer and raised the knife again.
The Duke's hand jerked up in a frantic effort to stay the blow
by the sign of the cross, but it was struck down to his side by
one of the rays from the Talisman, just as though some powerful
physical force had hit it.
Richard's jaws opened as though about to shout but no sound
issued from them.
With a supreme effort Rex lowered his head to charge, but the
invisible weight of twenty men seemed to force back his
shoulders.
Before the mental eyes of Marie Lou the Red Book of Appin lay
open. Again she saw the stained vellum page and the faded
writing in strange characters upon it. And once more as in her
drearn she could understand the one sentence: 'They only who
Love without Desire shall have power granted to them in the
Darkest Hour.'
Then her lips opened. With no knowledge of its meaning, and a
certainty that she had never seen it written or heard it
pronounced before, she spoke a strange word-having five
syllables.
The effect was instantaneous. The whole chamber rocked as
though shaken by an earthquake. The walls receded, the floor
began to spin. The crypt gyrated with such terrifying speed that
the occupants of the circle clutched frantically at each other
to save themselves from falling. The altar candles swayed and
danced before their distended eyes. The Talisman of Set was
swept from between the horns of the monstrous Goat, and bouncing
down the steps of the chapel, came to rest on the stone flags at
De Richleau's feet.
Mocata staggered back. The Goat reared up on its hind legs
above him. A terrible neighing sound came from its nostrils and
the slanting eyes swivelled in their sockets; their baleful
light flashing round the chamber. The Beast seemed to grow and
expand until it was towering above them all as they crouched,
petrified with fear. The stench of its foetid breath poured from
between the bared teeth until they were retching with nausea.
Mocata's knife clattered upon the stones as he raised his arms
in frantic terror to defend himself. The awful thing which he
had called up out of the Pit gave a final screaming neigh and
struck with one of its great fore-hooves. He was thrown with
frightful force to the floor, where he lay sprawled head
downmost on the chapel steps.
There was a thunderous crash as though the heavens were
opening. The crypt ceased to rock and spin. The Satanic figure
dissolved in upon itself. For a fraction of time the watchers in
the circle saw the black human face of the Malagasy, distorted
with pain and rage, where that of the Goat had been before. Then
that too disappeared behind a veil of curling smoke.
The black candles on the altar flickered and went out. The
chamber remained lit only by the phosphorescent glow from the
Talisman. De Richleau had snatched it from the floor and held it
in his open hand. By its faint light they saw Fleur sit up. She
gave a little wail and slid from the low altar stone to the
ground; then she stood gaping towards her mother, yet her eyes
were round and sightless like those of one who walks in her
sleep.
Suddenly an utter silence beyond human understanding descended
like a cloak and closed in from the shadows that were all about
them.
Almost imperceptibly a faint unearthly music, coming from some
immense distance, reached their ears. At first it sounded like
the splashing of spring water in a rock-bound cave, but
gradually it grew in volume, and swelled into a strange chant
rendered by boys' voices of unimaginable purity. All fear had
gone from them as, one by one, they fell upon their knees and
listened entranced to the wonder and the beauty of that litany
of praise. Yet all their eyes were riveted on Fleur.
The child walked very slowly forward but, as she advanced,
some extraordinary change was taking place about her. The little
body, naked a moment before, became clothed in a golden mist.
Her shoulders broadened and she grew in height. Her features
became partially obscured, then they lost their infant roundness
and took on the bony structure of an adult. The diaphanous cloud
of light gradually materialised into the graceful folds of a
long, yellow, silken robe. The dark curls on the head
disappeared leaving a high, beautifully proportioned skull.
As the chant ceased on a great note of exultation all sem
blance to the child had vanished. In her place a full-grown man
stood before them. From his dress he had the appearance of a
Thibetan Lama, but his esthetic face was as much Aryan as
Mongolian, blending the highest characteristics of the two; and
just as it seemed that he had passed the barriers of race, so he
also appeared to have cast off the shackles of worldly time. His
countenance showed all the health and vigour of a man in the
great years when he has come to full physical development, and
yet it had the added beauty which is only seen in that of a
frail, scholarly divine who has devoted a whole lifetime to the
search for wisdom. The grave eyes which were bent upon them held
Strength, Knowledge, and Power, together with an infinite
tenderness and angelic compassion unknown to mortal man.
The apparition did not speak by word of mouth. Yet each one of
the kneeling group heard the low, silver, bell-like voice with
perfect clearness.
'I am a Lord of Light nearing perfection after many lives, It
is wrong that you should draw me from my meditations in the
Hidden Valley-yet I pardon you because your need was great. One
here has imperilled the flame of Life by seeking to use hidden
mysteries for an evil purpose; another also, who lies beyond the
waters, has been stricken in her earthly body for that same
reason. The love you bear each other has been a barrier and
protection, yet would it have availed you nothing had it not
been for She who is the Mother. The Preserver barkens ever to
the prayer which goes forth innocent of all self-desire and so,
for a moment, I am permitted to appear 'to you through the
medium of this child whose thoughts know no impurity. The
Adversary has been driven back to the dark Halls of Shaitan and
shall trouble you no more. Live out the days of your allotted
span. Peace be upon you and about you. Sleep and Return.'
For a moment it seemed that they had been ripped right out of
the crypt and were looking down into it. The circle had become a
flaming sun. Their bodies were dark shadows grouped in its
centre. The peace and silence of death surged over them in great
saturating waves. They were above the monastery. The great ruin
became a black speck in the distance. Then everything faded.
Time ceased, and it seemed that for a thousand thousand years
they floated, atoms of radiant matter in an immense immeasurable
void-circling, for ever circling in the soundless
stratosphere-beings shut off from every feeling and sensation,
as though travelling with effortless impulse five hundred
fathoms deep, below the current levels of some uncharted sea.
Then, after a passage of eons in human time they saw Cardinals
Folly again infinitely far beneath them, their bodies lying in
the pentacle-and that darkened room. In an utter eerie silence
the dust of centuries was falling . . . falling. Softly,
impalpably, like infinitely tiny particles of swansdown it
seemed to cover them, the room, and all that was in it, with a
fine grey powder.
* * * * *
De Richleau raised his head. It seemed to him that he had been
on a long journey and then slept for many days. He passed his
hand across his eyes and saw the familiar bookshelves in the
semi-darkened library. The bulbs above the cornice flickered and
the lights came full on.
He saw that Simon's eyes were free from that terrible maniacal
glare, but that he still lay bound in the centre of the
pentacle.
As he bent forward and hastily began to untie Simon's turning
they saw him. Tall-haggard-distraught-a dark fondling her and
murmuring. 'We're safe, darling-safe.'
'She-she's not dead-is she?' It was Rex's voice, and turning
they saw him. Tall-haggard-distraught-a dark silhouette against
the early morning light which filtered in through the french-
windows-bearing Tanith's body in his arms.
Marie Lou sprang up with a little wailing cry. With Richard
behind her she raced across the room and through the door in the
wall which concealed the staircase to the nursery.
The Duke hurried over to Rex. Simon kicked his feet free and
stood up, exclaiming: 'I"ve had a most extraordinary dream.'
'About all of us going to Paris?' asked De Richleau, as the
three of them lowered Tanith's body to the floor, 'and then on
to a ruined monastery in northern Greece?'
'That's it-but how-did you know?'
'Because I had the same myself-if it was a dream!'
An hysterical laugh came from the stairway and next moment
Marie Lou was beside them, great tears streaming down her face,
but Fleur clutched safely in her arms.
The child, freshly woken from her sleep, gazed at them with
wide, blue eyes, and then she said: 'Fleur wants to go to
Simon.'
The Duke was examining Tanith. Simon rose from beside him. His
eyes held all the love that surged in the great heart which beat
between his narrow shoulders. He covered his short-sighted eyes
with his hands for a second then backed away. 'No, Fleur,
darling-I've been-I'm still ill you know.'
'Nonsense-that's all over,' Richard cried quickly, 'go on- for
God's sake take her-Marie Lou's going to faint.'
'Oh, Richard! Richard!' As Simon grabbed the child, Marie Lou
swayed towards her husband, and leaning on him drew her fingers
softly down his face. 'I will be all right in a moment -but it
was a dream-wasn't it?'
'She's alive!' exclaimed the Duke suddenly, his hand pressed
below Tanith's heart. 'Quick, Rex-some brandy.'
'Of course, dearest,' Richard was comforting Marie Lou. 'We've
never been out of this room-look, except Rex, we are still in
pyjamas.'
'Why, yes-I thought-- Oh, but look at this poor girl!' She
slipped from his arms and knelt beside Tanith.
Rex came crashing back with a decanter and a glass. De
Richleau snatched the brandy from him. Marie Lou piliowed
Tanith's head upon her knees and Richard held her chin. Between
them they succeeded in getting a little of the spirit down her
throat; a spasm crossed her face and then her eyes opened.
'Thank God!' breathed Rex. 'Thank God.'
She smiled and whispered his name, as the natural colour
flooded back into her face.
'Never-never have I had such a terrible nightmare!' exclaimed
Marie Lou. 'We were in a crypt-and that awful man was there.
He...'
'So you dreamed it too!' Simon interrupted. 'About you finding
me at that warehouse in Asnieres and the Paris police?'
'That's it,' said Richard. 'It's amazing that we should all
have dreamed the same thing but there's no other explanation for
it. None of us can possibly have left this house since we
settled down in the pentacle-- Yes, last night!'
'Then I've certainly been dreaming too.' Rex lifted his eyes
for a moment from Tanith's face. 'It must have started with me
when I fell asleep at the inn-or earlier, for I'd have sworn De
Richleau and I were out all the night before careering around
half of England to stop some devilry.'
'We were,' said the Duke slowly. 'Tanith's presence here
proves that, but she was never dead except in our dream, and
that started when you arrived here with her in your arms. The
Satanists at Simon's house, our visit there afterwards, and the
Sabbat were all facts. It was only last night, while our bodies
slept, that our subconscious selves were drawn out of them to
continue the struggle with Mocata on another plane.'
'Mocata!' Simon echoed. 'But-but if we've been dreaming he is
still alive.'
'No, he is dead.' The quiet, sure statement came from Tanith
as she sat up, and taking Rex's hand scrambled to her feet.
'How is it you're so certain?' he asked huskily.
'I can see him. He is not far from here-lying head downwards
on some steps.'
That's how we saw him in the dream,' said Richard, but she
shook her head.
'No, I. had no dream, I remember nothing after Mocata entered
my room at the inn and forced me to sleep-but you will find
him-somewhere quite near the house-out there.'
'The age-old law,' De Richfeau murmured. 'A life for a life
and a soul for a soul. Yes, since you have been restored to us I
am quite certain that he will have paid the penalty.'
Simon nodded. 'Then we're really free of this nightmare at
last?'
'Yes. Dream or no dream, the Lord of Light who appeared to us
drove back the Power of Darkness, and promised that we should
all live unmolested by it to the end of our allotted span. Come,
Richard,' the Duke took his host's arm, 'let us find our coats
and take a look round the garden-then we shall have done with
this horrible business.'
As they moved away Tanith smiled up at Rex. 'Did you really
mean what you said last night?'
'Did I mean it!' he cried, seizing both her hands. 'Just you
let me show you how!'
'Simon,' said Marie Lou pointedly, 'that child will catch her
death of cold in nothing but her nightie-do take her back to the
nursery while I get the servants to hurry forward breakfast.'
And the old familiar happy smile parted his wide mouth as Fleur
took a flying leap into his arms.
Tanith's face grew a little wistful as Rex drew her to him.
'My darling,' she hesitated, 'you know that it will be only for
a little time, about eight months-no more.'
'Nonsense!' he laughed. 'You were certainly dead to all of us
last night, so your prophecy's been fulfilled and the evil
lifted-we're both going to live together for a hundred years.'
She hid her face against his shoulder, not quite believing
yet, but a new hope dawning in her heart, from his certainty
that she had passed through the Valley of the Shadow and come
out again upon the other side. Her happiness, and his, demanded
that she accept his view and act henceforth as though the danger
to her life was past.
'Then if you want them, my days are yours,' she murmured,
'whatever their number may be.'
There was no trace of fog and a fair, true dawn was breaking
when, outside the library windows, De Richleau and Richard found
Mocata's body. It lay on the stone steps which fed up to the
terrace, sprawling head downwards, in the early light of the May
morning.
The coroner will find no difficulty in bringing in a verdict,'
the Duke observed after one glance at the face. 'They'll say it
is heart, of course. It is best not to touch the body, presently
we will telephone the police. None of us need say we have ever
seen him before if you tell Malin to keep quiet about his visit
yesterday afternoon. You may be certain that his friends will
not come forward to mention his acquaintance with Simon or the
girl.'
Richard nodded. 'Yes. "Death of a Man Unknown, from Natural
Causes," will be the only epilogue to this strange story.'
'Not quite, but this must be between us, Richard. I prefer
that the others should not know. Take me to your boiler-house.'
'The boiier-house-whatever for?'
Til tell you in a minute,'
'Alt right!' With a puzzled look Richard led the Duke along
the terrace, round by the kitchen quarters and into a small
building where a furnace gave a subdued roar.
De Richleau lifted the latch and the door swung back,
disclosing the glowing coke within. Then he extended his right
fist and slowly opened it.
'Good God!' exclaimed Richard, 'However did you come by that?'
In De Richleau's palm lay a shrunken, mummified phallus,
measuring no more than the length of a little finger, hard, dry,
and almost black with age. It was the Talisman of Set, just as
they had seen it in their recent dream adorning the brow of the
monstrous Goat.
'I found myself clutching it when I awoke,' he answered
softly.
'But-but that thing must have come from somewhere!'
'Perhaps it is a concrete symbol of the evil that we have
fought, which has been given over into our hands for destruc
tion.'
As the Duke finished speaking he cast the Talisman into the
glowing furnace where they watched it until it was utterly
consumed.
'If we were only dreaming how can you possibly explain it?'
Richard insisted.
'I cannot.' De Richleau shrugged a little wearily. 'Even the
greatest seekers after Truth have done little more than lift the
corner of the veil which hides the vast Unknown, but it is my
belief that during the period of our dream journey we have been
living in what the moderns call the fourth dimension- divorced
from time.'