come straight to me either here or in my bedroom and you will speak
to no one, nor will you open any letter or message which may be
brought to you, until you have seen me.'
De Richleau paused for a moment, put down the mirror and lifted
one of Simon's arms until it stood straight above his head. When he
released it the arm did not drop but remained stiff and rigid in the
air.
'Most satisfactory,' he murmured cheerfully to Rex. 'He is in the
second stage of hypnosis already and will do exactly what he is
told. The induction was amazingly easy, but of course, his half-
conscious state simplified it a lot.'
Rex shook his head in disapproval. 'I don't like to see you
monkey with him like this. I wouldn't allow it if it was anyone but
you.'
'A prejudice based upon lack of understanding, my friend.
Hypnotism in proper hands is the greatest healing power in the
world.' With a quick shrug the Duke moved over to his desk and,
unlocking one of the lower drawers, took something from it, then he
returned to Simon and addressed him in the same low voice.
'Open your eyes now and sit up.'
Simon obeyed at once and Rex was surprised to see that he looked
quite wide awake and normal. Only a certain blankness about the face
betrayed his abnormal state, and he displayed no aversion as De
Richleau extended the thing he had taken from the drawer. It was a
small golden swastika set with precious stones and threaded on a
silken ribbon.
'Simon Aron,' the Duke spoke again. 'With this symbol I am about
to place you under the protection of the power of Light. No being or
force of Earth, or Air, of Fire, or Water can harm you while you
wear it.'
With quick fingers he knotted the talisman round Simon's neck and
went on evenly: 'Now you will go to the spare bedroom. Ring for my
man Max and tell him that you are staying here tonight. He will
provide you with everything you need and, if your throat is parched
from your recent coma, ask him for any soft drink you wish, but no
alcohol remember' Peace be upon you and about you. Now go.'
Simon stood up at once and looked from one to the other of them.
'Good night,' he said cheerfully, with his quick natural smile. 'See
you both in the morning,' then he promptly walked out of the room.
'He-he's not really asleep is he?' asked Rex, looking a little
scared.
'Certainly, but he will remember everything that has taken place
tomorrow because he is not in the deep somnambulistic state where I
could order him to forget. To achieve that usually takes a little
practice with a new subject.'
'Then he'll be pretty livid I'll promise you. Fancy hanging a
Nazi swastika round the neck of a professing Jew.'
'My dear Rex! Do please try and broaden your outlook a little.
The swastika is the oldest symbol of wisdom and right thinking in
the world. It has been used by every race and in every country at
some time or other. You might just as well regard the Cross as
purely Christian, when we all know it was venerated in early Egypt,
thousands of years before the birth of Christ. The Nazis have only
adopted the swastika because it is supposed to be of Aryan origin
and part of their programme aims at welding together a large section
of the Aryan race. The vast majority of them have no conception of
its esoteric significance and even if they bring discredit upon it,
as the Spanish Inquisition did upon the Cross, that could have no
effect upon its true meaning.'
'Yes, I get that, though I doubt if it'll make any difference to
Simon's resentment when he finds it round his neck tomorrow. Still,
that's a minor point. What worries me is this whole box of tricks
this evening. I've got a feeling you ought to be locked up as
downright insane, unless it's me.'
De Richleau smiled. 'A strange business to be happening in modern
London, isn't it? But let's mix a drink and talk it over quietly.'
'Strange! Why, if it were true it would be utterly fantastic, but
it's not. All this hooha about Black Magic and talking hocus-pocus
while you hang silly charms round Simon's neck is utter bunk.'
'It is?' The Duke smiled again as he tipped a lump of ice into
Rex's glass and handed it to him. 'Well, let's hear your explanation
of Simon's queer behaviour. I suppose you do consider that it is
queer by the way?'
'Of course, but nothing like as queer as you're trying to make
out. As I see it Simon's taken up spiritualism or something of the
kind and plenty of normal earnest people believe in that, but you
know what he is when he gets keen on a thing, everything else goes
to,, the wall and that's why he has neglected you a bit.
'Then this evening he was probably sick as mud to miss our
dinner, but had a seance all fixed that he couldn't shelve at the
last moment. We butt in on his party, and naturally he doesn't care
to admit what he's up to entertaining all those queer, odd-looking
women and men, so he spins a yarn about it being an astronomical
society. So you-who've read a sight too many books-and seem to have
stored up all the old wives' tales your nurse told you in your
cradle-get a bee in your bonnet and slog the poor mut under the
jaw.'
De Richleau nodded. 'I can hardly expect you to see it any other
way at the moment, but let's start at the beginning. Do you agree
that after knocking him out I called into play a supernormal power
in order to send him cheerfully off to bed without a single
protest?'
'Yes, even the doctors admit hypnotic influence now, and Simon
would never have stood for you tying that swastika under his chin if
he'd been conscious.'
'Good. Then at least we are at one on the fact that certain
forces can be called into play which the average person does not
understand. Now, if instead of practising that comparatively simple
exercise in front of you, I had done it before ignorant natives, who
had never heard of hypnotism, they would terra it magic, would they
not?'
'Sure.'
Then to go a step further. If, by a greater exertion of the same
power, I levitated, that is to say, lifted myself to a height of
several inches from this floor, you might not use the word magic but
you would class that feat in the same category as the ignorant
native would place the easier one, because it is something which you
have always thought impossible.'
That's true.'
'Well, I am not sufficient of an adept to perform the feat, but
will you accept my assurances that I've seen it done, not once, but
a number of times?'
'If you say so, but from all I've heard about such things, the
fellows you saw didn't leave the ground at all. It is just mass
hypnotism exercised upon the whole audience-like the rope trick.'
'As you wish, but that explanation does not rob me of my point.
If you admit that I can tap an unknown power to make Simon obey my
will, and that an Eastern mystic can tap that power to the far
greater extent of making a hundred people's eyes deceive them into
believing that he is standing on thin air, you admit that there is a
power and that it can be tapped in greater degrees according to the
knowledge and proficiency of the man who uses it.'
'Yes, within limits.'
'Why within limits? You apparently consider levitation im
possible, but wouldn't you have considered wireless impossible if
you had been living fifty years ago and somebody had endeavoured to
convince you of it?'
'Maybe.' Rex sat forward suddenly. 'But I don't get what you're
driving at. Hypnotism is only a demonstration of the power of the
human will.'
'Ah! There you have it. The will to good and the will to evil.
That is the whole matter in a nutshell. The human will is like a
wireless set and properly adjusted-trained that is-it can tune in
with the invisible influence which is all about us.'
'The Invisible Influence. I've certainly heard that phrase
somewhere before.'
'No doubt. A very eminent mental specialist who holds a high
position in our asylums wrote a book with that title and I have not
yet asked you to believe one tenth of what he vouches for.'
'Then I wonder they haven't locked him up.'
'Rex! Rex!' De Richleau smiled a little sadly. Try and open your
mind, my friend. Do you believe in the miracles performed by Jesus
Christ?'
'Yes.'
'And of His Disciples and certain of the Saints?'
'Sure, but they had some special power granted to them from on
high.'
'Exactly! Some Special Power. But I suppose you would deny that
Gautama Buddha and his disciples performed miracles of a similar
nature?'
'Not at all. Most people agree now that Buddha was a sort of
Indian Christ, a Holy Man, and no doubt he had some sort of power
granted to him too.'
The Duke sat back with a heavy sigh. 'At last my friend we seem
to be getting somewhere. If you admit that miracles, as you call
them although you object to the word magic, have been performed by
two men living in different countries hundreds of years apart, and
that even their disciples were able to tap a similar power through
their holiness, you cannot reasonably deny that other mystics have
also performed similar acts in many portions of the globe-and
therefore, that there is a power existing outside us which is not
peculiar to any religion, but can be utilised if one can get into
communication with it,'
Rex laughed. That's so, I can't deny it.'
'Thank God! Let's mix ourselves another drink shall we, I need
it?'
'Don't move, I'll fix it.' Rex good-naturedly scrambled to his
feet. 'All the same,' he added slowly, 'it doesn't follow that
because a number of good men have been granted supernatural powers
that there is anything in Black Magic.'
'Then you do not believe in Witchcraft?'
'Of course not, nobody does in these days.'
'Really! How long do you think it is since the last trial for
Witchcraft took place?'
'I'll say it was all of a hundred and fifty years ago.'
'No, it was in January, 1926, at Melun near Paris.'
'Oh! You're fooling!' Rex exclaimed angrily.
'I'm not,' De Richleau assured him solemnly. The records of the
court will prove my statement, so you see you are hardly accurate
when you say that nobody believes in Witchcraft in these days, and
many many thousands still believe in a personal devil.'
'Yes, simple folk maybe, but not educated people.'
'Possibly not, yet every thinking man must admit that there is
still such a thing as the power of Evil.'
'Why?'
'My dear fellow, all qualities have their opposites, like love
and hate, pleasure and pain, generosity and avarice. How could we
recognise the goodness of Jesus Christ, Lao Tze, Ashoka, Marcus
Aurelius, Francis of Assisi, Florence Nightingale and a thousand
others if it were not for the evil lives of Herod, Caesar Borgia,
Rasputin, Landru, Ivan Kreuger and the rest?'
That's true,' Rex admitted slowly.
'Then if an intensive cultivation of good can beget strange
powers is there any reason why an intensive cultivation of evil
should not beget them also?'
'I think I begin to get what you're driving at.'
'Good! Now listen, Rex.' The Duke leaned forward earnestly. 'And
I will try and expound what little I know of the Esoteric Doctrine
which has come down to us through the ages. You will have heard of
the Persian myth of Ozamund and Ahriman, the eternal powers of Light
and Darkness, said to be co-equal and warring without cessation for
the good or ill of mankind. All ancient sun and nature
worship-festivals of spring and so on, were only an outward
expression of that myth, for Light typifies Health and Wisdom,
Growth and Life; while Darkness means Disease and Ignorance, Decay
and Death.
'In its highest sense Light symbolises the growth of the Spirit
towards that perfection in which it can throw off the body and
become light itself; but the road to perfection is long and arduous,
too much to hope for in one short human life, hence the widespread
belief in re-incarnation; that we are born again and again until we
begin to despise the pleasures of the flesh. This doctrine is so old
that no man can trace its origin, yet it is the inner core of truth
common to all religions at their inception. Consider the teaching of
Jesus Christ with that in mind and you will be amazed that you have
not realised before the true purport of His message. Did He not say
that the 'Kingdom of God was within us,' and, when He walked upon
the waters declared: 'These things that I do ye shall do also; and
greater things than these shall ye do, for I go unto my Father which
is in Heaven,' meaning most certainly that He had achieved
perfection but that others had the same power within each one of
them to do likewise.'
De Richleau paused for a moment and then went on more slowly.
'Unfortunately the hours of the night are still equal to the hours
of the day, and so the power of Darkness is no less active than when
the world was young, and no sooner does a fresh Master appear to
reveal the light than ignorance, greed, and lust for power cloud the
minds of his followers. The message becomes distorted and the
simplicity of the truth submerged and forgotten in the pomp of
ceremonies and the meticulous performance of rituals which have lost
their meaning. Yet the real truth is never entirely lost, and
through the centuries new Masters are continually arising either to
proclaim it or, if the time is not propitious, to pass it on in
secret to the chosen few.
'Apollonius of Tyana learned it in the East. The so-called
Heretics whom we know as the Albigenses preached it in the twelfth
century through Southern France until they were exterminated.
Christian Rosenkreutz had it in the Middle Ages. It was the
innermost secret of the Order of the Templars who were suppressed
because of it by the Church of Rome. The Alchemists, too, searched
for and practised it. Only the ignorant take literally their
struggle to find the Elixir of Life. Behind such phrases, designed
to protect them from the persecution of their enemies, they sought
Eternal Life, and their efforts to transmute base metals into gold
were only symbolical of their transfusion of matter into light. And
still to-day while the night life of London goes on about us there
are mystics and adepts who are seeking the Eightfold Way to
perfection in many corners of the Earth.'
'You really believe that?' asked Rex seriously.
'I do.' De Richleau's answer held no trace of doubt. 'I give you
my word Rex, that I have talked with men whose sanity you would
never question, an Englishman, an Italian, and a Hindu, all three of
whom have been taken by guides sent to fetch them to the hidden
valley in the uplands of Tibet, where some of the Lamas have reached
such a high degree of enlightenment that they can prolong their
lives at will, and perform today all the miracles which you have
read of in the Bible. It is there that the sacred fire of truth has
been preserved for centuries, safe from the brutal mercenary folly
of our modern world.'
That sounds a pretty tall story to me, but granted there are
mystics who have achieved such amazing powers through their holiness
I still don't see where your Black Magic comes in?'
'Let's not talk of Black Magic, which is associated with the
preposterous in our day, but of the order of the Left Hand Path.
That, too, has its adepts and, just as the Yoga of Tibet are the
preservers of the Way of Light, the Way of Darkness is exemplified
in the horrible Voodoo cult which had its origin in Madagascar and
has held Africa in its grip for centuries, spreading even with the
slave trade to the West Indies and your own country.'
'Yes, I know quite a piece about that, the Negroes monkey with it
still back home in the Southern States, despite their apparent
Christianity. Still I can't think that an educated man like Simon
would take serious notice of that Mumbo Jumbo stuff.'
'Not in its crude form perhaps, but others have cultivated the
power of Evil, and among whites it is generally the wealthy and
intellectual, who are avaricious for greater riches or power, to
whom it appeals. In the Paris of Louis XIV, long after the Middle
Ages were forgotten, it was still particularly rampant. The
poisoner, La Voisin, was proved to have procured over fifteen
hundred children for the infamous Abbe Guibourg to sacrifice at
Black Masses. He used to cut their throats, drain the blood into a
chalice, and then pour it over the naked body of the inquirer who
lay stretched upon the altar. I speak of actual history, Rex, and
you can read the records of the trial that followed in which two
hundred and forty-six men and women were indicted for these hellish
practices.'
'Maybe. It sounds ghastly enough but that's a mighty long time
ago.'
'Then, if you need more modern evidence of its continuance hidden
in our midst there is the well authenticated case of Prince
Borghese. He let his Venetian Palazzo on a long lease, expiring as
late as 1895. The tenants had not realised that the lease had run
out until he notified them of his intention to resume possession.
They protested, but Borghese's agents forced an entry. What do you
think they found?'
'Lord knows.' Rex shook his head.
'That the principal salon had been redecorated at enormous cost
and converted into a Satanic Temple. The walls were hung from
ceiling to floor with heavy curtains of silk damask, scarlet and
black to exclude the light; at the farther end there stretched a
large tapestry upon which was woven a colossal figure of Lucifer
dominating the whole. Beneath, an altar had been built and amply
furnished with the whole liturgy of Hell; black candles, vessels,
rituals, nothing was lacking. Cushioned prie-dieus and luxurious
chairs, crimson and gold, were set in order for the assistants, and
the chamber lit with electricity fantastically arranged so that it
should glare through an enormous human eye.'
De Richleau hammered the desk with his clenched fist. 'These are
facts I'm giving you Rex-facts, d'you hear, things I can prove by
eye-witnesses still living. Despite our electricity, our aeroplanes,
our modern scepticism, the power of Darkness is still a living
force, worshipped by depraved human beings for their unholy ends in
the great cities of Europe and America to this very day.'
Rex's face had suddenly paled under its tan. 'And you really
think poor Simon has got mixed up in this beastliness?'
'I know it man! Could you have been so intrigued with the girl
that you did not notice the rest of that foul crew? The Albino, the
man with the hare-lip, the Eurasian who only possessed a left arm.
They're Devil Worshippers all of them.'
'Not the girl! Not Tanith!' cried Rex, springing to his feet.
'She must have been drawn into it like Simon.'
'Perhaps, but the final proof lay in that basket. They were about
to practise the age-old sacrifice to their infernal master just as
your Voodoo-ridden Negroes do. The slaughter of a black cock and a
white hen-Yes. What is it?' De Richleau swung round as a soft knock
came on the door.
'Excellency.' His man Max stood bowing in the doorway, 'I thought
I had better bring this to you.' In his open palm he displayed the
jewelled swastika.
With one panther-like spring the Duke thrust him aside and
bounded from the room. 'Simon,' he shouted as he dashed down the
corridor. 'Simon! I command you to stay still.' But when he reached
the bedroom the only signs that Simon had ever occupied it were the
tumbled bed and his underclothes left scattered on the floor.
4
The Silent House
De Richleau strode back into the sitting-room. His grey eyes
glittered dangerously but his voice was gentle as he picked the
jewelled swastika from his servant's palm. 'How did you come by this
Max?'
'I removed it from Mr. Aron's neck Excellency.'
'What!'
'He rang for me Excellency and said that he would like a cup of
bouillon and when I returned with it he was sleeping, but so
strangely that I was alarmed. His tongue was protruding from between
his teeth and his face was nearly black; then I saw that his neck
was terribly swollen and that a ribbon was cutting deeply into his
flesh. I cut the ribbon, fearing that he would choke-the jewel
dropped off, so I brought it straight to you.'
'All right! you may go-and it is unnecessary to wait up- I may be
late.' As the door closed the Duke swung round towards Rex. 'Simon
must have woken the moment Max's back was turned, pulled on a few
clothes, then slipped out of the window and down the fire-escape.
'Sure,' Rex agreed. 'He's well on his way back to St. John's Wood
by now.;
'Come on-we'll follow. We've got to save him from those devils
somehow. I don't know what they're after but there must be something
pretty big and very nasty behind all this. It can't have been easy
to involve a man like Simon to the extent they obviously have, and
they would never have gone to all that trouble to recruit an
ordinary dabbler in the occult. They are after really big stakes of
some kind, and they need him as a pawn in their devilish game.'
'Think we can beat him to it?' Rex asked as they ran down the
staircase of the block and out into Curzon Street.
'I doubt it-Hi, taxi!' De Richleau waved an arm.
'He can't have more than five minutes' start.'
'Too much in a fifteen minutes' run.' The Duke's voice was grim
as they climbed into the cab.
'What d'you figure went amiss?'
'I don't know for certain, but there is no doubt that our poor
friend is completely under Mocata's influence-has been for months I
expect. In such a case Mocata's power over him would be far stronger
than my own which was only exercised, in the hope of protecting him,
for the first time tonight. It was because I feared that Mocata
might countermand my orders, even from a distance, and compel Simon
to return that I placed the symbol of Light round his neck.'
'And when Max took it off Mocata got busy on him eh?'
'I think Mocata was at work before that. He probably witnessed
everything that took place in a crystal or through a medium and
exerted all his powers to cause Simon's neck to swell the moment he
got into bed, hoping to break the ribbon that held the charm.'
Rex had not yet quite recovered from the shock of learning that
so sane a man as De Richleau could seriously believe in all this
gibberish about the Occult. He was very far from being convinced
himself, but he refrained from airing his scepticism and instead, as
the taxi rattled north through Baker Street, he began to consider
the practical side of their expedition. There had been eight men at
least in Simon's house when they left it. He glanced towards the
Duke. 'Are you carrying a gun?'
'No, and if I were it would be useless.'
'Holy Smoke! You are bats or else I am.' Rex shrugged his broad
shoulders and began to wonder if he was not living through some
particularly vivid and horrible dream. Soon he would wake perhaps;
sweating a little from the nightmare picture which De Richleau had
drawn for him of age-old evil, tireless and vigilant, cloaked from
the masses by modern scepticism yet still a potent force stalking
the dark ways of the night, conjured into new life by strange
delvers into ancient secrets for their unhallowed ends; but wake he
must, to the bright, clear day and Simon's chuckle-over a tankard of
Pim's cup at luncheon-that such fantastic nonsense should centre
about him even in a dream. Yet there was Tanith, so strange and wise
and beautiful, looking as though she had just stepped out of a
painting by some great master of the Italian Renaissance. It was no
dream that he had at last actually met and spoken with her that
evening at Simon's house, among all those queer people whom the Duke
declared so positively to be Satan worshippers; and if she was flesh
and blood they must be too.
On the north side of Lord's cricket ground, De Richleau stopped
the taxi. 'Better walk the rest of the way,' he murmured as he paid
off the man. 'Simon's arrived by now and it would be foolish to warn
them of our coming.'
'Thought you said Mocata was overlooking us with the evil eye?'
Rex replied as they hurried along Circus Road.
'He may be. I can't say, but possibly he thinks we would never
dare risk a second visit to the house tonight. If we exercise every
precaution we may catch him off his guard. He's just as vulnerable
as any other human being except when he is actually employing his
special powers.'
Side by side they passed through two streets where the low roofs
of the old-fashioned houses were only faintly visible above the
walls that kept them immune from the eyes of the curious, each set,
silent and vaguely mysterious, among its whispering trees; then they
entered the narrow, unlit cul-de-sac.
Treading carefully now, they covered the two hundred yards to its
end and halted, gazing up at the darkened mass of the upper stories
which loomed above the high wall. Not a chink of light betrayed that
the house was tenanted, although they knew that, apart from the
servants, thirteen people had congregated there to perform some
strange midnight ceremony little over an hour before.
'Think they've cleared out?' Rex whispered.
'I doubt it.' The Duke stepped forward and tried the narrow door.
It was fast locked.
'Can't we call the police in to raid the place?'
De Richleau shrugged impatiently. 'What could we charge them with
that a modem station-sergeant would understand?'
'Kidnapping! ' Rex urged below his breath, 'If I were back home
I'd have the strong arm squad here in under half an hour. Get the
whole bunch pinched and gaoled pending trial. They'd be out of the
way then for a bit, even if I had to pay up heavy damages
afterwards-and meantime we'd pop Simon in a mental home till he got
his wits back.'
'Rex! Rex!' The Duke gave a low, delighted chuckle. 'It's an
enchanting idea, and if we were in the States I really believe we
might pull it off-but here it's impossible.'
'What do you figure to do then?'
'Go in and see if Simon has returned.'
'I'm game, but the odds are pretty heavy.'
'If we're caught we must run for it.'
'O.K., but if we fail to make our get-away they'll call the
police and have us gaoled for housebreaking.'
'No-no,' De Richleau muttered. They won't want to draw the
attention of the police to then- activities, and the one thing that
matters is to get Simon out of here.'
'All right.' Rex placed his hands on his knees, and stooping his
great shoulders, leaned his head against the wall. 'Up you go.'
The Duke bent towards him. 'Listen!' he whispered. 'Once we're
inside we've got to stick together whatever happens. God knows what
they've used this house of Simon's for, but the whole place reeks of
evil.'
'Oh shucks!' Rex muttered contemptuously.
'I mean it,' De Richleau insisted. 'If you take that attitude I'd
rather go in alone. This is the most dangerous business I've ever
been up against, and if it wasn't for the thought of Simon nothing
on earth would tempt me to go over this wall in the middle of the
night.'
'Oh-all right. Have it your own way.'
'You'll obey me implicitly-every word I say?'
'Yes, don't fret yourself ...'
'Good, and remember you are to bolt for it the instant I give the
word, because the little knowledge that I possess may only protect
us for a very fleeting space of time.' The Duke clambered on to
Rex's shoulders and heaved himself up on to the coping. Rex stepped
back a few yards and took a flying leap; next second he had
scrambled up beside De Richleau. For a moment they both sat astride
the wall peering down into the shadows of the garden, then they
dropped silently into a flower-border on the other side.
'The first thing is to find a good line of retreat in case we
have to get out in a hurry,' breathed the Duke.
'What about this?' Rex whispered back, slapping the trunk of a
well-grown laburnum tree.
De Richleau nodded silently. One glance assured him that with the
aid of the lower branches two springs would bring them to the top of
the wall. Then he moved at a quick, stealthy run across a small open
space of lawn to the shelter of some bushes that ran round the side
of the house.
From their new cover Rex surveyed the side windows. No glimmer of
light broke the expanse of the rambling old mansion. As the Duke
moved on, he followed, until the bushes ended at the entrance of a
back yard, evidently giving on to the kitchen quarters.
'Have a care,' he whispered, jerking De Richleau's sleeve. 'They
may have a dog.'
'They couldn't,' replied the Duke positively. 'Dogs are simple,
friendly creatures but highly psychic. The vibrations in a place
where Black Magic was practised would cause any dog to bolt for a
certainty.' With light, quick, padding steps he crossed the yard and
came 'out into the garden on the far side of the house.
Here too every window was shrouded in darkness and an uncanny
stillness brooded over the place.
'I don't like it,' whispered De Richleau. 'Simon can't have been
back more than a quarter of an hour at the outside-so there ought
still to be lights in the upper rooms. Anyhow, it looks at if the
others have gone home, which is something- we must chance an
ambush.'
He pointed to a narrow, ground floor window. 'That's probably the
lavatory, and most people forget to close their lavatory
windows-come on!'
Silently Rex followed him across the grass, then gripping him by
the knees, heaved him up until he was well above the level of the
sill.
The sash creaked, the upper half of the window slid down, and the
Duke's head and shoulders disappeared inside.
For a moment Rex watched his wriggling legs, heard a bump,
followed by a muffled oath, and then clambered up on to the sill.
'Hurt yourself?' he whispered, as De Richleau's face appeared, a
pale blot in the darkness.
'Not much-though this sort of thing is not amusing for a man of
my age. The door here is unlocked, thank goodness.'
Immediately Rex was inside, the Duke squatted down on the floor.
Take off your shoes,' he ordered. 'And your socks.'
'Shoes if you like, though we'll hurt our feet if we have to
run-but why the socks?'
'Don't argue-we waste time.'
'Well-what now?' Rex muttered after a moment.
'Put your shoes on again and the socks over them-then you can run
as fast as you like.' As Rex obeyed the Duke went on in a low voice.
'Not a sound now. I really believe the others have gone, and if
Mocata is not lying in wait for us, we may be able to get hold of
Simon. If we come up against that black servant, for God's sake
remember not to look at his eyes.'
With infinite care he opened the door and peered out into the
darkened hall. A faint light from an upper window showed the double
doors that led to the salon standing wide open. He listened intently
for a moment, then slipping out stood aside for Rex to follow, and
gently closed the door behind them.
Their footsteps, now muffled by the socks, were barely audible as
they stole across the stretch of parquet. When they reached the
salon De Richleau carefully drew aside a blind. The dim starlight
was just sufficient to show the outlines of the gilded furniture,
and they could make out plates and glasses left scattered upon the
buhl and marquetry tables.
Rex picked up a goblet two-thirds full of champagne and held it
so that the Duke could see the wine still in it.
De Richleau nodded. The Irish Bard, the Albino, the one-armed
Eurasian, the hare-lipped man and the rest of that devilish company
must have taken fright when he and Rex had forcibly abducted Simon,
and fled, abandoning their unholy operations for the night. He
gently replaced the blind and they crept back into the hall.
One other door opened off it besides those to the servants'
quarters and the vestibule. De Richleau slowly turned the knob and
pressed. The room was a small library, and at the far end a pair of
uncurtained french-windows showed the garden, ghostly and mysterious
in the starlight. Leaving Rex by the door, the Duke tiptoed across
the room, drew the bolts, opened the windows and propped them wide.
>From where he stood he could just make out the laburnum by the wall.
A clear retreat was open to them now. He turned, then halted with a
sharp intake of breath. Rex had disappeared.
'Rex!' he hissed in a loud whisper, gripped by a sudden nameless
fear. 'Rex!' But there was no reply.
5
Embodied Evil
De Richleau had been involved in so many strange adventures in
his long and chequered career, that instinctively his hand flew to
the pocket where he kept his automatic at such times, but it was
flat-and in a fraction of time it had come back to him that this was
no affair of shootings and escapes, but a grim struggle against the
Power of Darkness-in which their only protection must be an utter
faith in the ultimate triumph of good, and the use of such little
power as he possessed to bring into play the great forces of the
Power of Light.
In two strides he had reached the door, grabbed the electric
switch, and pressed it as he cried in ringing tones: 'Fundamenta
ejus in montibus sanctis!'
'What the hell!' exclaimed Rex as the light flashed on. He was at
the far side of the hall, carefully constructing a booby trap of
chairs and china in front of the door that led to the servants'
quarters.
'You've done it now,' he added, with his eyes riveted upon the
upper landing, but nothing stirred and the pall of silence descended
upon the place again until they could hear each other's quickened
breathing.
'The house is empty,' Rex declared after a moment. 'If there were
anyone here they'd have been bound to hear you about. It echoed from
the cellars to the attics.'
De Richleau was regarding him with an angry stare. 'You madman,'
he snapped. 'Don't you understand what we're up against? We must not
separate for an instant in this unholy place-even now that the
lights are on.'
Rex smiled. He had always considered the Duke as the most
fearless man he knew, and to see him in such a state of nerves was a
revelation. 'I'm not scared of bogeys, but I am of being shot up
from behind,' he said simply. 'I was fixing this so we'd hear the
servants if there was trouble upstairs and they came up to help
Mocata.'
'Yes, but honestly, Rex, it is imperative that we should keep as
near each other as possible every second we remain in this ghastly
house. It may sound childish, but I ought to have told you before
that if anything queer does happen we must actually hold hands. That
will quadruple our resistance to evil by attuning our vibrations
towards good. Now let's go upstairs and see if they have really
gone-though I can hardly doubt it.'
Rex followed marvelling. This man who was frightened of shadows
and talked of holding hands at a time of danger was so utterly
different to the De Richleau that he knew. Yet as he watched the
Duke mounting the stairs in swift, panther-like, noiseless strides
he felt that since he was so scared this midnight visitation was a
fresh demonstration of his courage.
On the floor above they made a quick examination of the bedrooms,
but all of them were unoccupied and none of the beds had been slept
in.
'Mocata must have sent the rest of them away and been waiting
here with a car to whisk Simon off immediately he got back,' De
Richleau declared as they came out of the last room.
'That's about it, so we may as well clear out.' Rex shivered
slightly as he added: 'It's beastly cold up here.'
'I was wondering whether you'd notice that, but we're not going
home yet. This is a God-given opportunity to search the house at our
leisure. We may discover all sorts of interesting things. Leave all
the lights on here, the more the better, and come downstairs.'
In the salon the great buffet table still lay spread with the
excellent collation which they had seen there on their first visit.
The Duke walked over to it and poured himself a glass of wine. 'I
see Simon has taken to Cliquot again,' he observed. 'He alternates
between that and Bollinger with remarkable consistency, though in
certain years I prefer Pol Roger to either when it has a little age
on it.'
As Rex spooned a slab of Duck & la Montmorency on to a plate,
helping himself liberally in the foie gras mousse and cherries, he
wondered if De Richleau had really recovered from the extraordinary
agitation that he had displayed a quarter of an hour before, or if
he was talking so casually to cover his secret apprehensions. He
hated to admit it even to himself, but there was something queer
about the house, a chill seemed to be spreading up his legs from
beneath the heavily-laden table, and the silence was strangely
oppressive. Anxious to get on with the business and out of the place
now, he said quickly. 'I don't give two hoots what he drinks, but
where has Mocata gone-and why?'
'The last question is simple.' De Richleau set down his glass and
drew out the case containing the famous Hoyo de Monterrey's. 'There
are virtually no laws against the practice of Black Magic in this
country now. Only that of 1842, called the Rogues and Vagabonds Act,
under which a person may be prosecuted for 'pretending or professing
to tell Fortunes, by using any subtle Craft, Means or Device!" But
since the practitioners of it are universally evil, the Drug
Traffic, Blackmail, Criminal Assault and even Murder are often mixed
up with it, and for one of those reasons Mocata, having learnt that
we were on our way here through his occult powers, feared a brawl
might attract the attention of the police to his activities.
Evidently he considered discretion the better part of valour on this
occasion and temporarily abandoned the place to us- taking Simon
with him.'
'Not very logical-are you?' Rex commented. 'One moment it's you
who're scared that he may do all sorts of strange things to us, and
the next you tell me that he's bolted for fear of being slogged
under the jaw.'
'My dear fellow, I can only theorise. I'm completely in the dark
myself. Some of these followers of the Left Hand Path are mere
neophytes who can do little more than wish evil in minor matters on
people they dislike. Others are adepts and can set in motion the
most violent destructive forces which are not yet even suspected by
our modern scientists.
'If Mocata only occupies a low place in the hierarchy we can deal
with him as we would any other crook with little risk of any serious
danger to ourselves, but if he is a Master he may be able to strike
us blind or dead. Unfortunately I know little enough of this
horrible business, only the minor rituals of the Right Hand Path, or
White Magic as people call it, which may protect us hi an emergency.
If only I knew more I might be able to find out where he has taken
Simon.'
'Cheer up-we'll find him.' Rex laughed as he set down his plate,
but the sound echoed eerily through the deserted house, causing him
to glance swiftly over his shoulder in the direction of the still
darkened inner room. 'What's the next move?' he asked more soberly.
'We've got to try and find Simon's papers. If we can, we may be
able to get the real names and addresses of some of those people who
were here tonight. Let's try the Library first-bring the bottle with
you. I'll take the glasses.'
'What d'you mean-real names?' Rex questioned as he followed De
Richleau across the hall.
'Why, you don't suppose that incredible old woman with the parrot
beak was really called Madame D'Urfe-do you? That's only a nom-du-
Diable, taken when she was re-baptised, and adopted from the
Countess of that name, who was a notorious witch in Louis XV's time.
All the others are the same. Didn't you realise the meaning of the
name your lovely lady calls herself by-Tanith?'
'No.' Rex hesitated. 'I thought she was just a foreigner- that's
all.'
'Dear me. Well, Tanith was the Moon Goddess of the Carthaginians.
Thousands of years earlier the Egyptians called her Isis, and in the
intervening stage she was known to the Phoenicians as the Lady
Astoroth. They worshipped her in sacred groves where doves were
sacrificed and unmentionable scenes of licentiousness took place.
The God Adonis was her lover, and the people wept for his mythical
death each year, believing upon him as a Redeemer of Mankind. As
they went in processions to her shrines they wrought themselves into
the wildest frenzy, and to slake the thwarted passion of the widowed
goddess, gashed themselves with knives. Sir George Frazer's Golden
Bough will tell you all about it, but the blood that was shed still
lives, Rex, and she has been thirsty through these Christian
centuries for more. Eleven words of power, each having eleven
letters, twice pronounced in a fitting time and place after due
preparation, and she would stand before you, terrible in her beauty,
demanding a new sacrifice.'
Even Rex's gay modernity was not proof against that sinister
declaration. De Richleau's voice held no trace of the gentle
cynicism which was so characteristic of him, but seemed to ring with
the positiveness of some horrible secret truth. He shuddered
slightly as the Duke began to pull open the drawers of Simon's desk.
All except one, which was locked, held letter files, and a brief
examination of these showed that they contained nothing but
accounts, receipts, and correspondence of a normal nature. Rex
forced the remaining drawer with a heavy steel paper knife, but it
only held cheque book counterfoils and bundles of dividend warrants,
so they turned their attention to the long shelves of books. It was
possible that Simon might have concealed certain private papers
behind his treasured collection of modern first editions, but after
ten minutes' careful search they assured themselves that nothing of
interest was hidden at the back of the neat rows of volumes.
Having drawn a blank in the library, they proceeded to the other
downstairs rooms, going systematically through every drawer and
cabinet, but without result. Then they moved upstairs and tried the
bedrooms, yet here again they could discover nothing which might not
have been found in any normal house, nor was there any safe in which
important documents might have been placed.
During the search De Richleau kept Rex constantly beside him, and
Rex was not altogether sorry. Little by little the atmosphere of the
place was getting him down, and more than once he had the unpleasant
sensation that somebody was watching him covertly from behind,
although he told himself that it was pure imagination, due entirely
to De Richleau's evident belief in the supernatural, of which they
had been talking all the evening.
'These people must, have left traces of their doings in this
house somewhere," declared the Duke angrily as they came out of the
last bedroom on to the landing, 'and I'm determined to find them.'
'We haven't done the Observatory yet, and I'd say that's the most
likely spot of all,' Rex suggested.
'Yes-let's do that next.' De Richleau turned towards the upper
flight of stairs.
The great domed room was just as they had left it a few hours
before. The big telescope pointing in the same direction, the
astrolabes and sextants still in the same places. The five-pointed
pentacle enclosed in the double circle with its Cabalistic figures
stood out white and clear on the polished floor in the glare of the
electric lights. Evidently no ceremony had taken place after their
departure. To verify his impression the Duke threw up the lid of the
wicker hamper that stood beside the wall.
A scraping sound came from the basket, and he nodded. 'See Rex!
The Black Cock and the White Hen destined for sacrifice, but we
spoilt their game for tonight at all events. We'll take them down
and free them in the garden when we go.'
'What did they really mean to do-d'you think?' Rex asked gravely.
'Utilise the conjunction of certain stars which occurred at
Simon's birth, and again tonight, to work some invocation through
him. To raise some dark familiar perhaps, an elemental or an
earthbound spirit-or even some terrible intelligence from what we
know as Hell, in order to obtain certain information they require
from it.'
'Oh, nuts!' Rex exclaimed impatiently. 'I don't believe such
things. Simon's been got hold of by a gang of blackmailing
kidnappers and hypnotised if you like. They've probably used this
Black Magic stuff to impose on him just as it imposes on you-but in
to no one, nor will you open any letter or message which may be
brought to you, until you have seen me.'
De Richleau paused for a moment, put down the mirror and lifted
one of Simon's arms until it stood straight above his head. When he
released it the arm did not drop but remained stiff and rigid in the
air.
'Most satisfactory,' he murmured cheerfully to Rex. 'He is in the
second stage of hypnosis already and will do exactly what he is
told. The induction was amazingly easy, but of course, his half-
conscious state simplified it a lot.'
Rex shook his head in disapproval. 'I don't like to see you
monkey with him like this. I wouldn't allow it if it was anyone but
you.'
'A prejudice based upon lack of understanding, my friend.
Hypnotism in proper hands is the greatest healing power in the
world.' With a quick shrug the Duke moved over to his desk and,
unlocking one of the lower drawers, took something from it, then he
returned to Simon and addressed him in the same low voice.
'Open your eyes now and sit up.'
Simon obeyed at once and Rex was surprised to see that he looked
quite wide awake and normal. Only a certain blankness about the face
betrayed his abnormal state, and he displayed no aversion as De
Richleau extended the thing he had taken from the drawer. It was a
small golden swastika set with precious stones and threaded on a
silken ribbon.
'Simon Aron,' the Duke spoke again. 'With this symbol I am about
to place you under the protection of the power of Light. No being or
force of Earth, or Air, of Fire, or Water can harm you while you
wear it.'
With quick fingers he knotted the talisman round Simon's neck and
went on evenly: 'Now you will go to the spare bedroom. Ring for my
man Max and tell him that you are staying here tonight. He will
provide you with everything you need and, if your throat is parched
from your recent coma, ask him for any soft drink you wish, but no
alcohol remember' Peace be upon you and about you. Now go.'
Simon stood up at once and looked from one to the other of them.
'Good night,' he said cheerfully, with his quick natural smile. 'See
you both in the morning,' then he promptly walked out of the room.
'He-he's not really asleep is he?' asked Rex, looking a little
scared.
'Certainly, but he will remember everything that has taken place
tomorrow because he is not in the deep somnambulistic state where I
could order him to forget. To achieve that usually takes a little
practice with a new subject.'
'Then he'll be pretty livid I'll promise you. Fancy hanging a
Nazi swastika round the neck of a professing Jew.'
'My dear Rex! Do please try and broaden your outlook a little.
The swastika is the oldest symbol of wisdom and right thinking in
the world. It has been used by every race and in every country at
some time or other. You might just as well regard the Cross as
purely Christian, when we all know it was venerated in early Egypt,
thousands of years before the birth of Christ. The Nazis have only
adopted the swastika because it is supposed to be of Aryan origin
and part of their programme aims at welding together a large section
of the Aryan race. The vast majority of them have no conception of
its esoteric significance and even if they bring discredit upon it,
as the Spanish Inquisition did upon the Cross, that could have no
effect upon its true meaning.'
'Yes, I get that, though I doubt if it'll make any difference to
Simon's resentment when he finds it round his neck tomorrow. Still,
that's a minor point. What worries me is this whole box of tricks
this evening. I've got a feeling you ought to be locked up as
downright insane, unless it's me.'
De Richleau smiled. 'A strange business to be happening in modern
London, isn't it? But let's mix a drink and talk it over quietly.'
'Strange! Why, if it were true it would be utterly fantastic, but
it's not. All this hooha about Black Magic and talking hocus-pocus
while you hang silly charms round Simon's neck is utter bunk.'
'It is?' The Duke smiled again as he tipped a lump of ice into
Rex's glass and handed it to him. 'Well, let's hear your explanation
of Simon's queer behaviour. I suppose you do consider that it is
queer by the way?'
'Of course, but nothing like as queer as you're trying to make
out. As I see it Simon's taken up spiritualism or something of the
kind and plenty of normal earnest people believe in that, but you
know what he is when he gets keen on a thing, everything else goes
to,, the wall and that's why he has neglected you a bit.
'Then this evening he was probably sick as mud to miss our
dinner, but had a seance all fixed that he couldn't shelve at the
last moment. We butt in on his party, and naturally he doesn't care
to admit what he's up to entertaining all those queer, odd-looking
women and men, so he spins a yarn about it being an astronomical
society. So you-who've read a sight too many books-and seem to have
stored up all the old wives' tales your nurse told you in your
cradle-get a bee in your bonnet and slog the poor mut under the
jaw.'
De Richleau nodded. 'I can hardly expect you to see it any other
way at the moment, but let's start at the beginning. Do you agree
that after knocking him out I called into play a supernormal power
in order to send him cheerfully off to bed without a single
protest?'
'Yes, even the doctors admit hypnotic influence now, and Simon
would never have stood for you tying that swastika under his chin if
he'd been conscious.'
'Good. Then at least we are at one on the fact that certain
forces can be called into play which the average person does not
understand. Now, if instead of practising that comparatively simple
exercise in front of you, I had done it before ignorant natives, who
had never heard of hypnotism, they would terra it magic, would they
not?'
'Sure.'
Then to go a step further. If, by a greater exertion of the same
power, I levitated, that is to say, lifted myself to a height of
several inches from this floor, you might not use the word magic but
you would class that feat in the same category as the ignorant
native would place the easier one, because it is something which you
have always thought impossible.'
That's true.'
'Well, I am not sufficient of an adept to perform the feat, but
will you accept my assurances that I've seen it done, not once, but
a number of times?'
'If you say so, but from all I've heard about such things, the
fellows you saw didn't leave the ground at all. It is just mass
hypnotism exercised upon the whole audience-like the rope trick.'
'As you wish, but that explanation does not rob me of my point.
If you admit that I can tap an unknown power to make Simon obey my
will, and that an Eastern mystic can tap that power to the far
greater extent of making a hundred people's eyes deceive them into
believing that he is standing on thin air, you admit that there is a
power and that it can be tapped in greater degrees according to the
knowledge and proficiency of the man who uses it.'
'Yes, within limits.'
'Why within limits? You apparently consider levitation im
possible, but wouldn't you have considered wireless impossible if
you had been living fifty years ago and somebody had endeavoured to
convince you of it?'
'Maybe.' Rex sat forward suddenly. 'But I don't get what you're
driving at. Hypnotism is only a demonstration of the power of the
human will.'
'Ah! There you have it. The will to good and the will to evil.
That is the whole matter in a nutshell. The human will is like a
wireless set and properly adjusted-trained that is-it can tune in
with the invisible influence which is all about us.'
'The Invisible Influence. I've certainly heard that phrase
somewhere before.'
'No doubt. A very eminent mental specialist who holds a high
position in our asylums wrote a book with that title and I have not
yet asked you to believe one tenth of what he vouches for.'
'Then I wonder they haven't locked him up.'
'Rex! Rex!' De Richleau smiled a little sadly. Try and open your
mind, my friend. Do you believe in the miracles performed by Jesus
Christ?'
'Yes.'
'And of His Disciples and certain of the Saints?'
'Sure, but they had some special power granted to them from on
high.'
'Exactly! Some Special Power. But I suppose you would deny that
Gautama Buddha and his disciples performed miracles of a similar
nature?'
'Not at all. Most people agree now that Buddha was a sort of
Indian Christ, a Holy Man, and no doubt he had some sort of power
granted to him too.'
The Duke sat back with a heavy sigh. 'At last my friend we seem
to be getting somewhere. If you admit that miracles, as you call
them although you object to the word magic, have been performed by
two men living in different countries hundreds of years apart, and
that even their disciples were able to tap a similar power through
their holiness, you cannot reasonably deny that other mystics have
also performed similar acts in many portions of the globe-and
therefore, that there is a power existing outside us which is not
peculiar to any religion, but can be utilised if one can get into
communication with it,'
Rex laughed. That's so, I can't deny it.'
'Thank God! Let's mix ourselves another drink shall we, I need
it?'
'Don't move, I'll fix it.' Rex good-naturedly scrambled to his
feet. 'All the same,' he added slowly, 'it doesn't follow that
because a number of good men have been granted supernatural powers
that there is anything in Black Magic.'
'Then you do not believe in Witchcraft?'
'Of course not, nobody does in these days.'
'Really! How long do you think it is since the last trial for
Witchcraft took place?'
'I'll say it was all of a hundred and fifty years ago.'
'No, it was in January, 1926, at Melun near Paris.'
'Oh! You're fooling!' Rex exclaimed angrily.
'I'm not,' De Richleau assured him solemnly. The records of the
court will prove my statement, so you see you are hardly accurate
when you say that nobody believes in Witchcraft in these days, and
many many thousands still believe in a personal devil.'
'Yes, simple folk maybe, but not educated people.'
'Possibly not, yet every thinking man must admit that there is
still such a thing as the power of Evil.'
'Why?'
'My dear fellow, all qualities have their opposites, like love
and hate, pleasure and pain, generosity and avarice. How could we
recognise the goodness of Jesus Christ, Lao Tze, Ashoka, Marcus
Aurelius, Francis of Assisi, Florence Nightingale and a thousand
others if it were not for the evil lives of Herod, Caesar Borgia,
Rasputin, Landru, Ivan Kreuger and the rest?'
That's true,' Rex admitted slowly.
'Then if an intensive cultivation of good can beget strange
powers is there any reason why an intensive cultivation of evil
should not beget them also?'
'I think I begin to get what you're driving at.'
'Good! Now listen, Rex.' The Duke leaned forward earnestly. 'And
I will try and expound what little I know of the Esoteric Doctrine
which has come down to us through the ages. You will have heard of
the Persian myth of Ozamund and Ahriman, the eternal powers of Light
and Darkness, said to be co-equal and warring without cessation for
the good or ill of mankind. All ancient sun and nature
worship-festivals of spring and so on, were only an outward
expression of that myth, for Light typifies Health and Wisdom,
Growth and Life; while Darkness means Disease and Ignorance, Decay
and Death.
'In its highest sense Light symbolises the growth of the Spirit
towards that perfection in which it can throw off the body and
become light itself; but the road to perfection is long and arduous,
too much to hope for in one short human life, hence the widespread
belief in re-incarnation; that we are born again and again until we
begin to despise the pleasures of the flesh. This doctrine is so old
that no man can trace its origin, yet it is the inner core of truth
common to all religions at their inception. Consider the teaching of
Jesus Christ with that in mind and you will be amazed that you have
not realised before the true purport of His message. Did He not say
that the 'Kingdom of God was within us,' and, when He walked upon
the waters declared: 'These things that I do ye shall do also; and
greater things than these shall ye do, for I go unto my Father which
is in Heaven,' meaning most certainly that He had achieved
perfection but that others had the same power within each one of
them to do likewise.'
De Richleau paused for a moment and then went on more slowly.
'Unfortunately the hours of the night are still equal to the hours
of the day, and so the power of Darkness is no less active than when
the world was young, and no sooner does a fresh Master appear to
reveal the light than ignorance, greed, and lust for power cloud the
minds of his followers. The message becomes distorted and the
simplicity of the truth submerged and forgotten in the pomp of
ceremonies and the meticulous performance of rituals which have lost
their meaning. Yet the real truth is never entirely lost, and
through the centuries new Masters are continually arising either to
proclaim it or, if the time is not propitious, to pass it on in
secret to the chosen few.
'Apollonius of Tyana learned it in the East. The so-called
Heretics whom we know as the Albigenses preached it in the twelfth
century through Southern France until they were exterminated.
Christian Rosenkreutz had it in the Middle Ages. It was the
innermost secret of the Order of the Templars who were suppressed
because of it by the Church of Rome. The Alchemists, too, searched
for and practised it. Only the ignorant take literally their
struggle to find the Elixir of Life. Behind such phrases, designed
to protect them from the persecution of their enemies, they sought
Eternal Life, and their efforts to transmute base metals into gold
were only symbolical of their transfusion of matter into light. And
still to-day while the night life of London goes on about us there
are mystics and adepts who are seeking the Eightfold Way to
perfection in many corners of the Earth.'
'You really believe that?' asked Rex seriously.
'I do.' De Richleau's answer held no trace of doubt. 'I give you
my word Rex, that I have talked with men whose sanity you would
never question, an Englishman, an Italian, and a Hindu, all three of
whom have been taken by guides sent to fetch them to the hidden
valley in the uplands of Tibet, where some of the Lamas have reached
such a high degree of enlightenment that they can prolong their
lives at will, and perform today all the miracles which you have
read of in the Bible. It is there that the sacred fire of truth has
been preserved for centuries, safe from the brutal mercenary folly
of our modern world.'
That sounds a pretty tall story to me, but granted there are
mystics who have achieved such amazing powers through their holiness
I still don't see where your Black Magic comes in?'
'Let's not talk of Black Magic, which is associated with the
preposterous in our day, but of the order of the Left Hand Path.
That, too, has its adepts and, just as the Yoga of Tibet are the
preservers of the Way of Light, the Way of Darkness is exemplified
in the horrible Voodoo cult which had its origin in Madagascar and
has held Africa in its grip for centuries, spreading even with the
slave trade to the West Indies and your own country.'
'Yes, I know quite a piece about that, the Negroes monkey with it
still back home in the Southern States, despite their apparent
Christianity. Still I can't think that an educated man like Simon
would take serious notice of that Mumbo Jumbo stuff.'
'Not in its crude form perhaps, but others have cultivated the
power of Evil, and among whites it is generally the wealthy and
intellectual, who are avaricious for greater riches or power, to
whom it appeals. In the Paris of Louis XIV, long after the Middle
Ages were forgotten, it was still particularly rampant. The
poisoner, La Voisin, was proved to have procured over fifteen
hundred children for the infamous Abbe Guibourg to sacrifice at
Black Masses. He used to cut their throats, drain the blood into a
chalice, and then pour it over the naked body of the inquirer who
lay stretched upon the altar. I speak of actual history, Rex, and
you can read the records of the trial that followed in which two
hundred and forty-six men and women were indicted for these hellish
practices.'
'Maybe. It sounds ghastly enough but that's a mighty long time
ago.'
'Then, if you need more modern evidence of its continuance hidden
in our midst there is the well authenticated case of Prince
Borghese. He let his Venetian Palazzo on a long lease, expiring as
late as 1895. The tenants had not realised that the lease had run
out until he notified them of his intention to resume possession.
They protested, but Borghese's agents forced an entry. What do you
think they found?'
'Lord knows.' Rex shook his head.
'That the principal salon had been redecorated at enormous cost
and converted into a Satanic Temple. The walls were hung from
ceiling to floor with heavy curtains of silk damask, scarlet and
black to exclude the light; at the farther end there stretched a
large tapestry upon which was woven a colossal figure of Lucifer
dominating the whole. Beneath, an altar had been built and amply
furnished with the whole liturgy of Hell; black candles, vessels,
rituals, nothing was lacking. Cushioned prie-dieus and luxurious
chairs, crimson and gold, were set in order for the assistants, and
the chamber lit with electricity fantastically arranged so that it
should glare through an enormous human eye.'
De Richleau hammered the desk with his clenched fist. 'These are
facts I'm giving you Rex-facts, d'you hear, things I can prove by
eye-witnesses still living. Despite our electricity, our aeroplanes,
our modern scepticism, the power of Darkness is still a living
force, worshipped by depraved human beings for their unholy ends in
the great cities of Europe and America to this very day.'
Rex's face had suddenly paled under its tan. 'And you really
think poor Simon has got mixed up in this beastliness?'
'I know it man! Could you have been so intrigued with the girl
that you did not notice the rest of that foul crew? The Albino, the
man with the hare-lip, the Eurasian who only possessed a left arm.
They're Devil Worshippers all of them.'
'Not the girl! Not Tanith!' cried Rex, springing to his feet.
'She must have been drawn into it like Simon.'
'Perhaps, but the final proof lay in that basket. They were about
to practise the age-old sacrifice to their infernal master just as
your Voodoo-ridden Negroes do. The slaughter of a black cock and a
white hen-Yes. What is it?' De Richleau swung round as a soft knock
came on the door.
'Excellency.' His man Max stood bowing in the doorway, 'I thought
I had better bring this to you.' In his open palm he displayed the
jewelled swastika.
With one panther-like spring the Duke thrust him aside and
bounded from the room. 'Simon,' he shouted as he dashed down the
corridor. 'Simon! I command you to stay still.' But when he reached
the bedroom the only signs that Simon had ever occupied it were the
tumbled bed and his underclothes left scattered on the floor.
4
The Silent House
De Richleau strode back into the sitting-room. His grey eyes
glittered dangerously but his voice was gentle as he picked the
jewelled swastika from his servant's palm. 'How did you come by this
Max?'
'I removed it from Mr. Aron's neck Excellency.'
'What!'
'He rang for me Excellency and said that he would like a cup of
bouillon and when I returned with it he was sleeping, but so
strangely that I was alarmed. His tongue was protruding from between
his teeth and his face was nearly black; then I saw that his neck
was terribly swollen and that a ribbon was cutting deeply into his
flesh. I cut the ribbon, fearing that he would choke-the jewel
dropped off, so I brought it straight to you.'
'All right! you may go-and it is unnecessary to wait up- I may be
late.' As the door closed the Duke swung round towards Rex. 'Simon
must have woken the moment Max's back was turned, pulled on a few
clothes, then slipped out of the window and down the fire-escape.
'Sure,' Rex agreed. 'He's well on his way back to St. John's Wood
by now.;
'Come on-we'll follow. We've got to save him from those devils
somehow. I don't know what they're after but there must be something
pretty big and very nasty behind all this. It can't have been easy
to involve a man like Simon to the extent they obviously have, and
they would never have gone to all that trouble to recruit an
ordinary dabbler in the occult. They are after really big stakes of
some kind, and they need him as a pawn in their devilish game.'
'Think we can beat him to it?' Rex asked as they ran down the
staircase of the block and out into Curzon Street.
'I doubt it-Hi, taxi!' De Richleau waved an arm.
'He can't have more than five minutes' start.'
'Too much in a fifteen minutes' run.' The Duke's voice was grim
as they climbed into the cab.
'What d'you figure went amiss?'
'I don't know for certain, but there is no doubt that our poor
friend is completely under Mocata's influence-has been for months I
expect. In such a case Mocata's power over him would be far stronger
than my own which was only exercised, in the hope of protecting him,
for the first time tonight. It was because I feared that Mocata
might countermand my orders, even from a distance, and compel Simon
to return that I placed the symbol of Light round his neck.'
'And when Max took it off Mocata got busy on him eh?'
'I think Mocata was at work before that. He probably witnessed
everything that took place in a crystal or through a medium and
exerted all his powers to cause Simon's neck to swell the moment he
got into bed, hoping to break the ribbon that held the charm.'
Rex had not yet quite recovered from the shock of learning that
so sane a man as De Richleau could seriously believe in all this
gibberish about the Occult. He was very far from being convinced
himself, but he refrained from airing his scepticism and instead, as
the taxi rattled north through Baker Street, he began to consider
the practical side of their expedition. There had been eight men at
least in Simon's house when they left it. He glanced towards the
Duke. 'Are you carrying a gun?'
'No, and if I were it would be useless.'
'Holy Smoke! You are bats or else I am.' Rex shrugged his broad
shoulders and began to wonder if he was not living through some
particularly vivid and horrible dream. Soon he would wake perhaps;
sweating a little from the nightmare picture which De Richleau had
drawn for him of age-old evil, tireless and vigilant, cloaked from
the masses by modern scepticism yet still a potent force stalking
the dark ways of the night, conjured into new life by strange
delvers into ancient secrets for their unhallowed ends; but wake he
must, to the bright, clear day and Simon's chuckle-over a tankard of
Pim's cup at luncheon-that such fantastic nonsense should centre
about him even in a dream. Yet there was Tanith, so strange and wise
and beautiful, looking as though she had just stepped out of a
painting by some great master of the Italian Renaissance. It was no
dream that he had at last actually met and spoken with her that
evening at Simon's house, among all those queer people whom the Duke
declared so positively to be Satan worshippers; and if she was flesh
and blood they must be too.
On the north side of Lord's cricket ground, De Richleau stopped
the taxi. 'Better walk the rest of the way,' he murmured as he paid
off the man. 'Simon's arrived by now and it would be foolish to warn
them of our coming.'
'Thought you said Mocata was overlooking us with the evil eye?'
Rex replied as they hurried along Circus Road.
'He may be. I can't say, but possibly he thinks we would never
dare risk a second visit to the house tonight. If we exercise every
precaution we may catch him off his guard. He's just as vulnerable
as any other human being except when he is actually employing his
special powers.'
Side by side they passed through two streets where the low roofs
of the old-fashioned houses were only faintly visible above the
walls that kept them immune from the eyes of the curious, each set,
silent and vaguely mysterious, among its whispering trees; then they
entered the narrow, unlit cul-de-sac.
Treading carefully now, they covered the two hundred yards to its
end and halted, gazing up at the darkened mass of the upper stories
which loomed above the high wall. Not a chink of light betrayed that
the house was tenanted, although they knew that, apart from the
servants, thirteen people had congregated there to perform some
strange midnight ceremony little over an hour before.
'Think they've cleared out?' Rex whispered.
'I doubt it.' The Duke stepped forward and tried the narrow door.
It was fast locked.
'Can't we call the police in to raid the place?'
De Richleau shrugged impatiently. 'What could we charge them with
that a modem station-sergeant would understand?'
'Kidnapping! ' Rex urged below his breath, 'If I were back home
I'd have the strong arm squad here in under half an hour. Get the
whole bunch pinched and gaoled pending trial. They'd be out of the
way then for a bit, even if I had to pay up heavy damages
afterwards-and meantime we'd pop Simon in a mental home till he got
his wits back.'
'Rex! Rex!' The Duke gave a low, delighted chuckle. 'It's an
enchanting idea, and if we were in the States I really believe we
might pull it off-but here it's impossible.'
'What do you figure to do then?'
'Go in and see if Simon has returned.'
'I'm game, but the odds are pretty heavy.'
'If we're caught we must run for it.'
'O.K., but if we fail to make our get-away they'll call the
police and have us gaoled for housebreaking.'
'No-no,' De Richleau muttered. They won't want to draw the
attention of the police to then- activities, and the one thing that
matters is to get Simon out of here.'
'All right.' Rex placed his hands on his knees, and stooping his
great shoulders, leaned his head against the wall. 'Up you go.'
The Duke bent towards him. 'Listen!' he whispered. 'Once we're
inside we've got to stick together whatever happens. God knows what
they've used this house of Simon's for, but the whole place reeks of
evil.'
'Oh shucks!' Rex muttered contemptuously.
'I mean it,' De Richleau insisted. 'If you take that attitude I'd
rather go in alone. This is the most dangerous business I've ever
been up against, and if it wasn't for the thought of Simon nothing
on earth would tempt me to go over this wall in the middle of the
night.'
'Oh-all right. Have it your own way.'
'You'll obey me implicitly-every word I say?'
'Yes, don't fret yourself ...'
'Good, and remember you are to bolt for it the instant I give the
word, because the little knowledge that I possess may only protect
us for a very fleeting space of time.' The Duke clambered on to
Rex's shoulders and heaved himself up on to the coping. Rex stepped
back a few yards and took a flying leap; next second he had
scrambled up beside De Richleau. For a moment they both sat astride
the wall peering down into the shadows of the garden, then they
dropped silently into a flower-border on the other side.
'The first thing is to find a good line of retreat in case we
have to get out in a hurry,' breathed the Duke.
'What about this?' Rex whispered back, slapping the trunk of a
well-grown laburnum tree.
De Richleau nodded silently. One glance assured him that with the
aid of the lower branches two springs would bring them to the top of
the wall. Then he moved at a quick, stealthy run across a small open
space of lawn to the shelter of some bushes that ran round the side
of the house.
From their new cover Rex surveyed the side windows. No glimmer of
light broke the expanse of the rambling old mansion. As the Duke
moved on, he followed, until the bushes ended at the entrance of a
back yard, evidently giving on to the kitchen quarters.
'Have a care,' he whispered, jerking De Richleau's sleeve. 'They
may have a dog.'
'They couldn't,' replied the Duke positively. 'Dogs are simple,
friendly creatures but highly psychic. The vibrations in a place
where Black Magic was practised would cause any dog to bolt for a
certainty.' With light, quick, padding steps he crossed the yard and
came 'out into the garden on the far side of the house.
Here too every window was shrouded in darkness and an uncanny
stillness brooded over the place.
'I don't like it,' whispered De Richleau. 'Simon can't have been
back more than a quarter of an hour at the outside-so there ought
still to be lights in the upper rooms. Anyhow, it looks at if the
others have gone home, which is something- we must chance an
ambush.'
He pointed to a narrow, ground floor window. 'That's probably the
lavatory, and most people forget to close their lavatory
windows-come on!'
Silently Rex followed him across the grass, then gripping him by
the knees, heaved him up until he was well above the level of the
sill.
The sash creaked, the upper half of the window slid down, and the
Duke's head and shoulders disappeared inside.
For a moment Rex watched his wriggling legs, heard a bump,
followed by a muffled oath, and then clambered up on to the sill.
'Hurt yourself?' he whispered, as De Richleau's face appeared, a
pale blot in the darkness.
'Not much-though this sort of thing is not amusing for a man of
my age. The door here is unlocked, thank goodness.'
Immediately Rex was inside, the Duke squatted down on the floor.
Take off your shoes,' he ordered. 'And your socks.'
'Shoes if you like, though we'll hurt our feet if we have to
run-but why the socks?'
'Don't argue-we waste time.'
'Well-what now?' Rex muttered after a moment.
'Put your shoes on again and the socks over them-then you can run
as fast as you like.' As Rex obeyed the Duke went on in a low voice.
'Not a sound now. I really believe the others have gone, and if
Mocata is not lying in wait for us, we may be able to get hold of
Simon. If we come up against that black servant, for God's sake
remember not to look at his eyes.'
With infinite care he opened the door and peered out into the
darkened hall. A faint light from an upper window showed the double
doors that led to the salon standing wide open. He listened intently
for a moment, then slipping out stood aside for Rex to follow, and
gently closed the door behind them.
Their footsteps, now muffled by the socks, were barely audible as
they stole across the stretch of parquet. When they reached the
salon De Richleau carefully drew aside a blind. The dim starlight
was just sufficient to show the outlines of the gilded furniture,
and they could make out plates and glasses left scattered upon the
buhl and marquetry tables.
Rex picked up a goblet two-thirds full of champagne and held it
so that the Duke could see the wine still in it.
De Richleau nodded. The Irish Bard, the Albino, the one-armed
Eurasian, the hare-lipped man and the rest of that devilish company
must have taken fright when he and Rex had forcibly abducted Simon,
and fled, abandoning their unholy operations for the night. He
gently replaced the blind and they crept back into the hall.
One other door opened off it besides those to the servants'
quarters and the vestibule. De Richleau slowly turned the knob and
pressed. The room was a small library, and at the far end a pair of
uncurtained french-windows showed the garden, ghostly and mysterious
in the starlight. Leaving Rex by the door, the Duke tiptoed across
the room, drew the bolts, opened the windows and propped them wide.
>From where he stood he could just make out the laburnum by the wall.
A clear retreat was open to them now. He turned, then halted with a
sharp intake of breath. Rex had disappeared.
'Rex!' he hissed in a loud whisper, gripped by a sudden nameless
fear. 'Rex!' But there was no reply.
5
Embodied Evil
De Richleau had been involved in so many strange adventures in
his long and chequered career, that instinctively his hand flew to
the pocket where he kept his automatic at such times, but it was
flat-and in a fraction of time it had come back to him that this was
no affair of shootings and escapes, but a grim struggle against the
Power of Darkness-in which their only protection must be an utter
faith in the ultimate triumph of good, and the use of such little
power as he possessed to bring into play the great forces of the
Power of Light.
In two strides he had reached the door, grabbed the electric
switch, and pressed it as he cried in ringing tones: 'Fundamenta
ejus in montibus sanctis!'
'What the hell!' exclaimed Rex as the light flashed on. He was at
the far side of the hall, carefully constructing a booby trap of
chairs and china in front of the door that led to the servants'
quarters.
'You've done it now,' he added, with his eyes riveted upon the
upper landing, but nothing stirred and the pall of silence descended
upon the place again until they could hear each other's quickened
breathing.
'The house is empty,' Rex declared after a moment. 'If there were
anyone here they'd have been bound to hear you about. It echoed from
the cellars to the attics.'
De Richleau was regarding him with an angry stare. 'You madman,'
he snapped. 'Don't you understand what we're up against? We must not
separate for an instant in this unholy place-even now that the
lights are on.'
Rex smiled. He had always considered the Duke as the most
fearless man he knew, and to see him in such a state of nerves was a
revelation. 'I'm not scared of bogeys, but I am of being shot up
from behind,' he said simply. 'I was fixing this so we'd hear the
servants if there was trouble upstairs and they came up to help
Mocata.'
'Yes, but honestly, Rex, it is imperative that we should keep as
near each other as possible every second we remain in this ghastly
house. It may sound childish, but I ought to have told you before
that if anything queer does happen we must actually hold hands. That
will quadruple our resistance to evil by attuning our vibrations
towards good. Now let's go upstairs and see if they have really
gone-though I can hardly doubt it.'
Rex followed marvelling. This man who was frightened of shadows
and talked of holding hands at a time of danger was so utterly
different to the De Richleau that he knew. Yet as he watched the
Duke mounting the stairs in swift, panther-like, noiseless strides
he felt that since he was so scared this midnight visitation was a
fresh demonstration of his courage.
On the floor above they made a quick examination of the bedrooms,
but all of them were unoccupied and none of the beds had been slept
in.
'Mocata must have sent the rest of them away and been waiting
here with a car to whisk Simon off immediately he got back,' De
Richleau declared as they came out of the last room.
'That's about it, so we may as well clear out.' Rex shivered
slightly as he added: 'It's beastly cold up here.'
'I was wondering whether you'd notice that, but we're not going
home yet. This is a God-given opportunity to search the house at our
leisure. We may discover all sorts of interesting things. Leave all
the lights on here, the more the better, and come downstairs.'
In the salon the great buffet table still lay spread with the
excellent collation which they had seen there on their first visit.
The Duke walked over to it and poured himself a glass of wine. 'I
see Simon has taken to Cliquot again,' he observed. 'He alternates
between that and Bollinger with remarkable consistency, though in
certain years I prefer Pol Roger to either when it has a little age
on it.'
As Rex spooned a slab of Duck & la Montmorency on to a plate,
helping himself liberally in the foie gras mousse and cherries, he
wondered if De Richleau had really recovered from the extraordinary
agitation that he had displayed a quarter of an hour before, or if
he was talking so casually to cover his secret apprehensions. He
hated to admit it even to himself, but there was something queer
about the house, a chill seemed to be spreading up his legs from
beneath the heavily-laden table, and the silence was strangely
oppressive. Anxious to get on with the business and out of the place
now, he said quickly. 'I don't give two hoots what he drinks, but
where has Mocata gone-and why?'
'The last question is simple.' De Richleau set down his glass and
drew out the case containing the famous Hoyo de Monterrey's. 'There
are virtually no laws against the practice of Black Magic in this
country now. Only that of 1842, called the Rogues and Vagabonds Act,
under which a person may be prosecuted for 'pretending or professing
to tell Fortunes, by using any subtle Craft, Means or Device!" But
since the practitioners of it are universally evil, the Drug
Traffic, Blackmail, Criminal Assault and even Murder are often mixed
up with it, and for one of those reasons Mocata, having learnt that
we were on our way here through his occult powers, feared a brawl
might attract the attention of the police to his activities.
Evidently he considered discretion the better part of valour on this
occasion and temporarily abandoned the place to us- taking Simon
with him.'
'Not very logical-are you?' Rex commented. 'One moment it's you
who're scared that he may do all sorts of strange things to us, and
the next you tell me that he's bolted for fear of being slogged
under the jaw.'
'My dear fellow, I can only theorise. I'm completely in the dark
myself. Some of these followers of the Left Hand Path are mere
neophytes who can do little more than wish evil in minor matters on
people they dislike. Others are adepts and can set in motion the
most violent destructive forces which are not yet even suspected by
our modern scientists.
'If Mocata only occupies a low place in the hierarchy we can deal
with him as we would any other crook with little risk of any serious
danger to ourselves, but if he is a Master he may be able to strike
us blind or dead. Unfortunately I know little enough of this
horrible business, only the minor rituals of the Right Hand Path, or
White Magic as people call it, which may protect us hi an emergency.
If only I knew more I might be able to find out where he has taken
Simon.'
'Cheer up-we'll find him.' Rex laughed as he set down his plate,
but the sound echoed eerily through the deserted house, causing him
to glance swiftly over his shoulder in the direction of the still
darkened inner room. 'What's the next move?' he asked more soberly.
'We've got to try and find Simon's papers. If we can, we may be
able to get the real names and addresses of some of those people who
were here tonight. Let's try the Library first-bring the bottle with
you. I'll take the glasses.'
'What d'you mean-real names?' Rex questioned as he followed De
Richleau across the hall.
'Why, you don't suppose that incredible old woman with the parrot
beak was really called Madame D'Urfe-do you? That's only a nom-du-
Diable, taken when she was re-baptised, and adopted from the
Countess of that name, who was a notorious witch in Louis XV's time.
All the others are the same. Didn't you realise the meaning of the
name your lovely lady calls herself by-Tanith?'
'No.' Rex hesitated. 'I thought she was just a foreigner- that's
all.'
'Dear me. Well, Tanith was the Moon Goddess of the Carthaginians.
Thousands of years earlier the Egyptians called her Isis, and in the
intervening stage she was known to the Phoenicians as the Lady
Astoroth. They worshipped her in sacred groves where doves were
sacrificed and unmentionable scenes of licentiousness took place.
The God Adonis was her lover, and the people wept for his mythical
death each year, believing upon him as a Redeemer of Mankind. As
they went in processions to her shrines they wrought themselves into
the wildest frenzy, and to slake the thwarted passion of the widowed
goddess, gashed themselves with knives. Sir George Frazer's Golden
Bough will tell you all about it, but the blood that was shed still
lives, Rex, and she has been thirsty through these Christian
centuries for more. Eleven words of power, each having eleven
letters, twice pronounced in a fitting time and place after due
preparation, and she would stand before you, terrible in her beauty,
demanding a new sacrifice.'
Even Rex's gay modernity was not proof against that sinister
declaration. De Richleau's voice held no trace of the gentle
cynicism which was so characteristic of him, but seemed to ring with
the positiveness of some horrible secret truth. He shuddered
slightly as the Duke began to pull open the drawers of Simon's desk.
All except one, which was locked, held letter files, and a brief
examination of these showed that they contained nothing but
accounts, receipts, and correspondence of a normal nature. Rex
forced the remaining drawer with a heavy steel paper knife, but it
only held cheque book counterfoils and bundles of dividend warrants,
so they turned their attention to the long shelves of books. It was
possible that Simon might have concealed certain private papers
behind his treasured collection of modern first editions, but after
ten minutes' careful search they assured themselves that nothing of
interest was hidden at the back of the neat rows of volumes.
Having drawn a blank in the library, they proceeded to the other
downstairs rooms, going systematically through every drawer and
cabinet, but without result. Then they moved upstairs and tried the
bedrooms, yet here again they could discover nothing which might not
have been found in any normal house, nor was there any safe in which
important documents might have been placed.
During the search De Richleau kept Rex constantly beside him, and
Rex was not altogether sorry. Little by little the atmosphere of the
place was getting him down, and more than once he had the unpleasant
sensation that somebody was watching him covertly from behind,
although he told himself that it was pure imagination, due entirely
to De Richleau's evident belief in the supernatural, of which they
had been talking all the evening.
'These people must, have left traces of their doings in this
house somewhere," declared the Duke angrily as they came out of the
last bedroom on to the landing, 'and I'm determined to find them.'
'We haven't done the Observatory yet, and I'd say that's the most
likely spot of all,' Rex suggested.
'Yes-let's do that next.' De Richleau turned towards the upper
flight of stairs.
The great domed room was just as they had left it a few hours
before. The big telescope pointing in the same direction, the
astrolabes and sextants still in the same places. The five-pointed
pentacle enclosed in the double circle with its Cabalistic figures
stood out white and clear on the polished floor in the glare of the
electric lights. Evidently no ceremony had taken place after their
departure. To verify his impression the Duke threw up the lid of the
wicker hamper that stood beside the wall.
A scraping sound came from the basket, and he nodded. 'See Rex!
The Black Cock and the White Hen destined for sacrifice, but we
spoilt their game for tonight at all events. We'll take them down
and free them in the garden when we go.'
'What did they really mean to do-d'you think?' Rex asked gravely.
'Utilise the conjunction of certain stars which occurred at
Simon's birth, and again tonight, to work some invocation through
him. To raise some dark familiar perhaps, an elemental or an
earthbound spirit-or even some terrible intelligence from what we
know as Hell, in order to obtain certain information they require
from it.'
'Oh, nuts!' Rex exclaimed impatiently. 'I don't believe such
things. Simon's been got hold of by a gang of blackmailing
kidnappers and hypnotised if you like. They've probably used this
Black Magic stuff to impose on him just as it imposes on you-but in