To The Devil A Daughter

`It wasn't till after last Walpurgis Night that I began to worry a bit. Attending the great Sabbat brought it home to me with something of a shock that I had only just over ten months to go before I was due to hand over Ellen. But even then I didn't think about it much, as a hundred and one urgent business matters drove it into the back of my mind. Then, just before Christmas, Ellen came home for good, and that gave me a real jolt.

`I don't think I've mentioned it, but poor Hettie committed suicide while Ellen was still only a little girl. I've never married again, but I took several women to live with me for various periods, and that was one of the reasons why I sent Ellen away to boarding school at the age of eight. The other was an instinctive feeling that, anyhow until she was grown up, I ought to keep her away from Copely Syle. Of course I could not prevent her from meeting him now and then, but she has never been at home for long enough at a time to fall under his influence. It was for that reason, too,, that when she was too old to stay at boarding schools any longer I sent her to a finishing place in Paris. Her two and a half years there came to an end last December, and her return brought me face to face with the fact that my twenty one years of having everything for nothing were darn' near up.

`Ellen has been at home so little in all this time that I hardly know her; so I'm not going to pretend that I suffered frightful pangs of remorse at having sold her to Lucifer when she was a baby. She has meant practically nothing in my life, and I imagined that all that would happen when she was twenty one was that she would be initiated as a witch. I reckoned that by having kept her away from Copely Syle and seeing to it that she was educated by decent people I was doing the best I could for her in the circumstances. Naturally, I disliked the idea of having to hand her over to the Canon, but that was all I had undertaken to do, and it seemed to me that at the age of twenty one she would be perfectly capable of telling him to go to blazes if she felt that way. If she liked the idea of becoming a witch, that was her look out. If not, they couldn't make her practice witchcraft against her will. Anyhow I'd quieted my conscience with the idea that I could honour my bond, while ensuring that when she had to take her decision she should do so with an unprejudiced mind.

`Had I been right in my belief that there was no more to it than that, I should be taking her to The Priory on the evening of her birthday; but purely by chance I found out that I had been fooling myself. Ever since I've been in business in a fairly big way I've given Copely Syle sound financial tips from time to time, and he has quite a bit invested in my companies. A few months ago I wanted to tip him off to sell out from one of my subsidiaries. Instead of dropping him a line, as I usually did, I called in at The Priory one evening on my way home. After we had had a drink his vanity got the better of his discretion, or perhaps he thought that I know less about magical operations than I do. Anyhow, he took me to his crypt and showed me his homunculi.

`Apparently he has been working on them for years, although I was unaware of that. He has got one there now as near perfect as any magician is ever likely to produce. To enable it to leave its jar and function like a normal human being it needs only one thing the lifeblood of a twenty one year old virgin.

`Naturally he never hinted that to me; but it so happened that I knew it. In a flash I realised what he was planning to do with Ellen. It solved, too, a question that had vaguely puzzled me for a long time. He had never pressed me to give him an opportunity to get to know Ellen, and had most heartily endorsed my policy of keeping her at school until she was grown up. I saw then that he had done so to lessen the risk of her meeting some young man and being seduced, or getting married, before she was twenty one.

`Well, I knew then that I was up against it. Although I had no special love for the girl I couldn't let that happen. After a lot of thought I decided that there was only one thing for it both Ellen and I must go into hiding for a time and remain so till after the fateful day.

`It may sound queer to you, but it is a fact that Prince Lucifer is quite a sportsman. He has always been willing to match cunning with cunning. There are plenty of cases in which people have enjoyed his gifts and managed to cheat him in the end. Ellen was used to doing what she was told without argument; so I decided to get her out of the way. She had a nasty sore throat just after Christmas; so as a first step I fixed it for her to have her tonsils out, and whisked her off to a nursing home at Brighton. Then I made arrangements to get her out of the country and park her in the South of France, under an assumed name.

`On my failure to produce her, my bond made me liable to act as forfeit in her place, and as Copely Syle held my bond it would be up to him to enforce it. I could not hope to escape him by taking a plane to the United States or Australia; because with me he has occult links which would enable him to find me on the astral, wherever I was; so I made up my mind to tell my office that I had gone abroad, then dig myself in here. Only here could I hope for the absolute privacy necessary to protect myself. The trap on the landing and the ape were designed to prevent Copely Syle getting in to me in the flesh and using the cunning that Lucifer has given him to wheedle out of me where I had hidden Ellen. The pentacle, as you evidently know, is my defence against his getting me on the astral.

`He hasn't attempted to do either yet. That may be because he is occupied with other matters. Some while ago, you said that he was after Ellen's blood. As you know that, and why, you probably know what he has been up to this past week. I shut myself in here as soon as I returned from taking Ellen down to the Riviera; so about what has happened since you must be better informed than I am. Anyhow, I can give you no further information.'

Suddenly Beddows' voice changed, rising to an hysterical note, as he added, `If I were a free agent I'd hand the two of you over to the police for having broken in here. As I am not, and you threatened to expose me to the most frightful peril, I've told you everything there is to tell about my awful situation.

Everything, d'you understand? Everything! Now get out! And leave me unencumbered to fight my own battle.'

Silence descended on the room like a curtain of draped black velvet.

Neither C. B. nor John had dared to interrupt Beddows' long monologue. Both of them had been acutely conscious that although he was definitely not possessed, he was, all the same, in a quite abnormal state. From the toneless voice in which he had spoken for most of the time it was clear that he was using them only as a focus at which to pour out his own story; and it was reasonable to suppose that in all the twenty one years since he had made his pact with the Devil he had never told it to anyone before. To have cut in at any point with question, or even comment, might well have checked the flow and deprived them of hearing the all important latter part of the revelations.

A good half minute elapsed before C. B, said, `We are very grateful to you for having been so frank with us; and I can only repeat that we are here as friends who want to help. We got drawn into this thing because John Fountain's mother lives in the villa next door to that which you rented for Ellen. I had better tell you what has happened since you left her there; then we shall better be able to decide between us on a plan of campaign for overcoming our mutual enemy.'

`I can give you no help in that.' Beddows' voice was sharp. `I'll have my work cut out to protect myself as it is, without inviting further trouble.'

C. B. ignored the remark and proceeded to give him an account of the events centering round Ellen that had taken place in the South of France. When he had done, Beddows said thoughtfully

`Copely Syle must have smelt a rat as soon as he learned that I had gone abroad so near the date. The odds are that he came to The Grange in our absence and managed to get hold of some of the girl's personal belongings; an old hairbrush or anything she had used for her toilet would enable him to overlook her and find out where she had gone.. Evidently the reason that he has so far made no move against me is because he has been too occupied with his

attempts to have her kidnapped. I'm grateful to you for all you've done to keep her out of his clutches, and I quite understand now your reasons for breaking in here; but all the same I'd be glad if you would leave me.'

`Oh come!' John protested. `Now you know the danger she is in surely you don't propose to ignore it?'

`Since you had this bright idea of having her arrested, she is no longer in danger. These crooks who are acting for the Canon will be far too scared of the police to attempt to abduct her from a French prison.'

`You are forgetting the Canon,' C. B. put in. `By using his occult powers he may be able to get her out; and it is as good as certain, now, that he will fly out there to morrow morning. We know that he'll stick at nothing to get hold of Ellen and he still has over forty hours to work in.'

`Well, there's nothing I can do about it.'

`Yes there is. You and he must have been mixed up in all sorts of queer business. It's a sure thing that a thoroughly unscrupulous man like Copely-​Syle has committed a number of criminal acts in order to carry on his sorcery and that you know of some of them. From time to time he must either have robbed churches or instigated others to do so, in order to get hold of Holy Communion wafers for desecration. We know, too, that he is having blood donors' gifts of blood stolen from hospitals to feed his homunculi. I want you to come with us to the police and make a statement. On that we'll get a warrant for his arrest, and even if he leaves for France in the morning I can get it executed there. That is the only way we can make absolutely certain of protecting Ellen until her maximum period of danger is past.'

Beddows gave a short, harsh laugh. `What the hell d'you take me for? A lunatic? Can't you see that now you've queered his pitch with Ellen by having her imprisoned, the odds are that he will round on me? As long as I remain in this pentacle I've good hopes of cheating Lucifer yet; but the moment I move out of it I'm liable at any time to have my soul snatched, and my body will spend the rest of its days in an asylum. No thank you!

'You got Ellen into this!' cried John angrily. `The very least you can do is to run some risk to get her out of it.'

`She's safe enough where she is! A darned sight safer than I am, anyway ! I did my best for her by taking the risk that I'm running already, instead of handing her over in accordance with my bond; and I'll do no more. Nothing you or anyone else can say is going to get me out of this pentacle within the next forty eight hours.'

`What is to prevent our smashing it up?'

`I can't; and if you do I'll be in hideous danger for a while. But better that than the far worse risk of going with you now and committing myself to having to face Copely Syle in open court as a witness against him to morrow. If you do bust the electric current, I can use candles instead, and the moment you've gone I'll make another pentacle. Besides, I've already paid your price for not interfering with this one by telling you what you came here to find out.'

For a further twenty minutes they argued and pleaded with Beddows, but in vain. Nothing would move him, and when C. B. found that they were repeating themselves over end over again he said at last

`It's no good, John. We must do what we can on our own. Let's get out of this and back to Colchester.'

With a curt good night to Beddows, they left him and, having eased the bonds of the ape a little, made their way downstairs. On slipping out of the window by which they had come in they found that it was no longer raining, and with heartfelt relief at leaving the dank, dark house, they gratefully breathed in the cool night air.

As they turned into the drive, John muttered, `The callous swine! I would have liked to strangle him.'

C. B. shrugged. `After having had the luck to run him to earth like that it was damnably disappointing that he should refuse to help us; but he's far from being a hundred per cent evil, otherwise he would not have tried to hide Ellen and be facing the music himself. Just think what an ordeal he undertook when he decided to coop himself up in that grim room for days on end and wait for some Frightful thing to come and attempt to get him! It can hardly be wondered at that he is half crazy from fear already.'

`All the same, he might at least have given us some pointer which would help us to lay the Canon by the heels. The very idea of a father selling his child to the Devil in the beginning is almost unbelievable, and for him to refuse to utter a word that might help to save her from being murdered now is fantastic.'

`Fantastic is the word for this whole horrible business, partner. What could be more so than the thought of Henry Beddows, a down to earth inventor of motor engines, who has constantly to deal with Trade Union officials, and is a power in the commercial world of Britain, sitting up there in a magic pentacle preparing to wrestle with demons for his soul; or a man who was, apparently, once a Canon of the Church of England planning to murder a girl in order to give a semblance of human life to a monster of his own creation? Nevertheless, we know these things to be actually happening.'

`I know, I know! But what are we going to do now?' `Get some sleep. I can do with it.'

It was getting on for three o'clock in the morning by the time they reached their hotel. By then they were too tired even to tip the night porter to get them a drink. On reaching their rooms they pulled off their clothes, flopped into bed and within a few moments were in the deep sleep of exhaustion.

Next morning they had their breakfasts sent up to C.B.’s room and while they ate them discussed the position to date. During the previous evening and night they had found out a great deal. They now knew more about Christina's past than she knew herself and the reason for her queer behaviour. They knew why the Canon was so anxious to get hold of her, and that if he succeeded it would cost her not only her freedom, but her life. They had traced her father and learned his reason for taking her to the South of France and abandoning her there; but he had positively refused to give them the aid they had expected from him. On the other hand it had been definitely verified that the danger in which she stood would be acute for only one day; since, should the Canon fail to carry out his abominable ritual on her twenty first birthday, there would

be no point whatever in his killing her afterwards. Therefore, their immediate problem boiled down to immobilizing the Canon for the next thirty six hours.

Their prospects of doing so seemed exceedingly slender, as it was a foregone conclusion that either he was already, or would very soon be, on his way to France. The fact that Upson had arrived at The Priory the previous night made it certain he had come by air. C. B, thought it probable that during the war Upson had served in Coastal Command and had been stationed in that area. In any case, as it had been intended that he should fly Christina home, it was evident that he was familiar with the Essex coast and had already reconnoitered some of the many lonely creeks to select a good illicit landing place. It was, therefore, long odds that when de Grasse had decided that his latest news was of too compromising a nature to convey by telephone, and sent it instead by personal messenger, Upson had travelled in his own seaplane and made a secret landing by last light somewhere along the coast not far from Little Bentford.

If so, the Canon had a pilot and aircraft at his disposal, and could leave at any hour he chose. Obviously his only chance of getting hold of Christina now lay in flying south himself, so that he could exercise his occult powers on her jailers. However, there was one factor which might cause him to delay his departure for a few hours namely that the Satanic writ did not run, as far as Christina's mind was concerned, except during the hours of darkness. Only during them could he influence her voluntarily to leave prison, should the way have been opened for her to do so. Having considered this, C. B. said

`I had pretty well made up my mind that our best plan would be to make for Northolt right away, so as to catch the 10.30 plane for Nice, then bank on our being able to head him off from getting at Christina to night. But an afternoon plane to Paris would still enable us to get down there by Air France or K.L.M. in time for that; so I think it would be worth while making a bid against Copely Syle's planning to leave before mid day, and the sporting chance that we may then be able to prevent his leaving at all.'

`I'm game to use force,' John said quickly. `And if we manage to catch him, you have only to tell me what to do. But a charge of assault and battery would blot your official copybook really badly, so. ..'

`Thanks, partner,' C. B. cut him short with a smile, `but I don't think either of us need risk being hauled up before the beak on that count. I am proposing to lay information against him for practicing cruelty to animals, and request the police to apply for a search warrant. They have only to see those poor brutes I saw in the crypt last night to issue a summons. It is illegal to leave the country with a summons pending against one, and I have enough pull with the police to get them to keep a watch on him. If he attempts to clear out after the summons has been served he will be prevented from doing so by the coppers.'

`By Jove ! That's a grand idea.'

`I hope it may prove so; but it won't do us any good if he has gone before the police get out there. And they won't be able to secure a warrant until ten o'clock at the earliest, because the magistrates' court does not open until that hour.'

`Well, if he has gone, I have another idea.' `Let's hear it.'

John's dark eyes narrowed slightly. `The Canon can't do his final job on the homunculus without Christina; and Christina is no good to him without the homunculus. That's so, isn't it?'

`Yes. Unless he can bring her back here to morrow night he is sunk.'

`Even if he does, it won't do him any good if his prize homunculus is no longer in a state to lap up Christina's blood. If we find that he has already left for France, I mean to go down into that crypt and destroy it.'

`Good for you, John.' C. B. laughed for the first time in many hours. `I really am beginning to feel a bit more hopeful now. One way or the other I think we'll manage to spike his guns. As soon as we are dressed we'll go round and do our stuff with the police.'

At the station, after the usual formalities, they were shown into the office of an elderly inspector named Fuller. To him C. B. produced his card and a small trinket that he carried, after which the inspector listened to all he had to say with considerable respect. Although C. B, refrained from giving more than a general indication of what lay behind the excuse on which he desired a search warrant to be obtained, that was quite enough to have caused most people to show incredulity; but police officers of long experience have usually come up against so many extraordinary happenings that they are prepared to consider with an open mind every conceivable aberration possible to a diseased or criminal brain. In consequence Inspector Fuller took down C.B.’s formal deposition about the maimed animals without comment and quietly agreed to put the matter in hand at once.

However, at the magistrates' court some delay was unavoidable, as no special priority attached to an application regarding cruelty to animals, and the lists had already been made out. So it was half past ten before the application was granted, and after a quarter to eleven by the time the formalities of drawing the search warrant were completed.

There was no hurrying the law, and John fumed with impatience in vain; but at last Inspector Fuller and a constable came out to join C. B. and himself in the car, and they set off.

Anxious as C. B. was to learn the results of his move, he felt that any attempt on his part to accompany the police into the house might be met by the Canon, if he was still there, with legal objections, or possibly even a false accusation of having broken in the previous night, which might have seriously complicated matters. So it was decided that he and John should wait in the car just down the lane until the Inspector had carried out his search of the premises.

It was twenty past eleven when they pulled up under the trees that fringed the road some fifty yards east of The Priory, and the two police officers got out. Both C. B. and John thought it almost certain that by this time the Canon would be on his way to France; so they had lost much of the optimism that had buoyed them up earlier that morning, and they found the wait before they would know extremely trying. In anxious silence for the most part, they sat side by side smoking cigarette after cigarette while they watched the clock on the dashboard of the car tick away the minutes.

It was close on twelve before the inspector and the constable reappeared. Without a word C. B. and John got out of the car and walked with anxious faces to meet them.

The inspector smiled rather ruefully as he addressed C. B. `Canon Copely Syle is there all right, sir, and he couldn't have been more helpful. But there is no one in the house answering your description of the airman. There are no animals either, or human looking fish in big glass jars like you described. We visited the crypt and it has the appearance of being used as an ordinary laboratory; no curtains embroidered with pictures of the Devil, or anything of that sort. We went over the whole house from basement to attic, and there is nothing whatever in it on which we could ask for a summons.'

John looked at C. B. in amazement and dismay. The Canon had completely outwitted them. He was still there, but free to leave at any time he chose; for he had anticipated the raid, and there was now no legal pretext on which he could be detained. Moreover, he had removed his homunculi; so it was no longer possible to go in and destroy them.

20

The Secret Base

The police constable's face remained wooden, but C. B. felt sure that he was deriving a secret satisfaction from being in on a case where a plain clothes high hat from London had made a fool of himself. The inspector, on the other hand, knew that men like Colonel Verney did not apply for search warrants without good reason, and he said

`I'm sorry, sir. It looks as if they were tipped off that you were after them.'

C. B. rubbed the side of his big nose. `That's about it, Inspector. We won't go into the source of my information, but you can take it from me that it was red hot last night. They have destroyed most of the goods and unloaded the prize exhibit that I was after.'

`Is there any other way in which we can help, sir?'

`Only by telephoning for a car to take you back to Colchester. I shan't be going back yet. Let's go along to the pub and have one while you are waiting for transport.'

Getting into the car, they drove along to the Weavers Arms and went into the private bar. When C. B. had ordered a round of drinks and the constable had gone to telephone, he drew the inspector aside and said, `There is one thing you can do for me. Some time this morning a big crate or package, about four feet six high and three feet square, must have been removed from The Priory, either in a lorry or on a trailer. In such a quiet place as this it is a good bet that someone will have seen it being loaded up or passing along the road. Have a word with the landlord. The public bar is sure to be pretty full at this hour. Ask him to enquire of everyone there, and tell him there's a quid for himself and a quid for anyone who can give us any useful information.'

The enquiry being made by a police inspector naturally secured the immediate co operation of the landlord with no questions asked. A few minutes later a lean, elderly man with a weather beaten face was brought into the private bar. His name was Sims and he proved to be the gardener at The Vicarage. He had seen a crate of the size described and a number of smaller packages loaded on to a lorry outside The Priory about ten o'clock. The loading had been done by the coloured servant and a tall man with a fair, fluffy moustache, under the Canon's supervision. The lorry was owned by one Joe Cotton, a local character who was no better than he should be, and he had driven off in the direction of Weeley.

Having obtained as detailed a description of Cotton and his lorry as Sims could give, C. B. paid for the information and the drinks took leave of Inspector Fuller and, accompanied by John, left the pub.

As John turned the car in the direction of Weeley he said, `Well done, C. B. If we can catch the fellow with the lorry we'll do in that filthy homunculus yet.'

'Yes if!' C. B. replied dubiously. `But he's got two and a half hours' start of us, and remember Copely Syle runs a coven in these parts. The odds are that it has been stowed away in the cellars of a house belonging to one of his brother warlocks an hour or more ago.'

At the village of Weeley they got out and made enquiries; but no one they asked had seen such a lorry, so they decided to go back to the last crossroads. On reaching them they took the road east to Thorpe le Soken, and there they had what they thought might turn out to be better luck. Soon after mid day a woman had seen a lorry pass through and take the road north towards Great Oakley. It sounded like the one they were after, but as she was certain that there had been two men in its cabin there was a possibility that it was another. No one else they asked had noticed a lorry at all; so they drove on, now heading north.

They were still about five miles from the open sea, but approaching a great area of lakes, creeks and islands known as Hansford Water. To their left there were still occasional farms and coppices, but to their right was only an almost trackless waste of marshes. The road was straight, flat and empty; so they could see a considerable way along it, and about two miles out of Thorpe le Soken they sighted a lorry coming towards them. As it came nearer C. B. exclaimed

`By Jove ! I believe this is it. Pull into the centre of the road, John, and signal it to stop.'

As the two vehicles pulled up within a few yards of one another, C. B. got out. A glance showed him that the lorry was empty, but it answered the description he had been given, as did also the small ferret faced man who was the sole occupant of its cabin. Walking up to him, C. B. said:

`Good afternoon. You are Joe Cotton, aren't you?'

`Yes, guvnor.'

`I thought so.' C.B.’s smile was a triumph of candid innocence. `You have done the job quicker than we expected. Canon Copely Syle will be pleased about that, providing you've done it all right. But he is nervous as a cat on hot bricks about the safe delivery of his stuff, so he sent us after you to make certain the big crate had come to no harm.'

Cotton gave C. B. a rather doubtful stare. `Why would 'e do that, when 'e sent the other gent wiv me so as 'e could help wiv the unloading 'isself?'

`Because that crate is very valuable. The Canon wanted confirmation that everything was O.K. as soon as possible.' `Well, I'm giving it you, ain't I?

'All the same, I think you'd better turn round and come with us, so that we can vouch for it to him that we have seen that everything is all right for ourselves.'

`What d'you want me to come wiv you for?' Cotton's close set eyes showed sudden suspicion.

`He told us the road to take; but we are strangers in these parts, and we'll lose a lot of time if we miss our way across the marshes.'

`So that's the lay, is it? You don't know where I bin an' want me ter take yer there. Nothin' doin', guv'nor.'

As Cotton spoke his ferrety face had become taut with something between fear and anger.

C. B, saw that his bluff had failed; but he showed no resentment. As he had nothing on the man he decided that bullying him would get him nowhere; so he shrugged and said with a smile

`You're a fly one, Cotton. It didn't take you long to see through me, did it? Still, there's no harm done, and I've private reasons for wanting to know where you delivered that crate. How about a tenner to take us near enough to point out the house; and we won't let on afterwards that it was you who put us wise?'

`Not for ten quid, nor for twenty,' came the prompt reply. `I ain't done nothin' wrong; but, all the same, I ain't tellin' no tales.'

Starting up his engine, Cotton swung one wheel of his lorry on to the grass verge, scraped past the car and drove off down the road.

`Blast the fellow!' exclaimed John angrily. `That's the second trick we've lost to day.'

`We didn't lose it altogether,' C. B. murmured more philosophically. `When a man like that says “I ain't done nothin' wrong”, you can be quite certain that he has. He wouldn't have refused a tenner without a good reason, either, and a suspicion that we might be connected with the police.'

`Even if he knew what the crate contained, there is nothing illegal in delivering it to a house.'

`No. You noticed, though, that the woman in Thorpele Soken, who put us on his trail, was right about there having been two men in the cabin of the lorry when it passed her. Any guess who the other was?'

'Upson?' said John, after a second.

C. B. nodded. `Any guess where the crate has got to?' `Hell's bells!' John exclaimed. `They've put it aboard that blasted seaplane.'

`Well done, Watson! You see now why friend Cotton was too scared to take a bribe to say where he had offloaded it. Seeing Upson's aircraft moored in some quiet creek miles from anywhere would have told him that it had come down there to evade the authorities, and he would know darn' well that to help load anything into it that had not been passed by the Customs was a serious offence.'

`Of course! But let's get on. We may be able to find the seaplane and stop it before it takes off.'

`Not much hope of that, I'm afraid. This group of creeks covers an area more than twice the size of Birmingham, and Cotton was over two hours ahead of us; so he may have taken the crate to a stretch of water miles from here.'

`What filthy luck!' Exasperation made John almost spit with rage. `Then that swinish Canon has got the best of us again! He's put it out of our power to get hold of his homunculus and destroy it, anyhow for the next twentyfour hours. What a cunning move to have Upson fly it out to the Riviera, then bring it back in time for the ceremony, with Christina if they get her. But let's pray to God they won't. The only bright spot so far to day has been finding that he is still here, instead of having gone to France to work his filthy spells on her jailers.'

`That is one thing that has been puzzling me,' C. B. said as he got back into the car. `The creation of fully functioning homunculi is Copely Syle's life work; so you can be certain that up to the very last moment he will strive to seize this chance of pulling it off. When I told him that Christina was in prison he immediately decided that he must go out there, and he changed his mind only when I persuaded him that I could do the necessary for him. His discovery that I was an impostor ruled that out; so why hasn't he gone himself? I can't believe for one second that he's chucked his hand in.'

`No; but think of the work involved in getting that private hell of his cleared up in anticipation of a possible visit. It must have taken him all night and probably well into the morning to burn or bury all his animals and those awful deformed creatures he created. Obviously his first concern would be with that and getting his prize homunculus out of danger.'

`That's true; and it gives me a nasty thought. As he was so fully occupied himself he may have decided to get somebody else to do what I offered to do for him. Since he is head of a coven he might have got in touch with one of his pals during the night. If so, they could have gone up to London first thing this morning and caught an aircraft from Northolt to Nice.'

John groaned. `I never thought of that. If you're right, and they caught the earliest one, they will be in Nice by now.'

`It's a possibility; so we can't ignore it, although I think it would take a pretty high grade Black to use effectively what amounts to hypnotism at a distance on several people he has never seen, with only their soiled garments as a medium. Anyway, we still have a choice of strong cards left. Earlier on you were arguing that we could save Christina by depriving the Canon of his homunculus. That is true, of course, but not the best way of expressing the core of the matter. To put it in a nutshell, we win out on the big issue if we can prevent any one of those three factors from joining up with the other two for the next thirty six hours. Our object in trying to get a summons against the Canon was to keep him from going to Nice. We failed to get the summons; but as it turns out he has remained here of his own accord. The homunculus will be brought back here, and possibly Christina. By keeping a watch on the Canon we should be able to cut in at the last moment and prevent their reaching him. Alternatively, by making full speed for London, we can still get on a Paris plane and be in Nice late this evening. We could then get Malouet to try to find out where Uison has brought his seaplane down, with the object of destroying the homunculus; and, should we fail in that, we might anyhow lend a hand in preventing Christina from being whisked out of prison. My own feeling is that our chances are pretty good either way; but this is really your party, John; so I'm going to leave the choice to you.'

After a moment's thought, John said, `It will be dark before we can get to Nice; so if Copely Syle has sent a brother wizard down there, he may get Christina out before we arrive on the scene; and Malouet's chances of finding out at short notice where Upson comes down seems pretty problematical. Of course, that is taking the worst view. All the same, a bird in the hand is worth two in the

bush; so I think our best bet would be to remain here and concentrate on isolating the Canon.'

`That seems sound to me. We'll return to Colchester, then collect our bags from the Red Lion and transfer to the Weavers Arms at Little Bentford. By making that our new H.Q. we will be able to maintain a twenty four hour turn and turn about watch on The Priory, with only half a mile's walk to relieve one another, and between watches get food and sleep. Let's go.'

John drove on till he found a suitable place to reverse the car, then they drove through fourteen miles of twisting lanes back to Colchester. By two o'clock they had packed, paid their bill, and left. Half an hour later they took up their new quarters at Little Bentford and tossed to decide which of them should do the first two hour spell of duty. John lost, and went out to take up a position in the coppice from which he could keep an eye on The Priory without being seen. As he did so he thanked his stars that throughout the day the weather had taken a turn for the better; so it seemed unlikely that the dreary vigils he and C. B. promised to keep would be made additionally unpleasant by rain.

He need not have concerned himself about the weather prospects for the night. At a quarter past three he came racing back to the inn and burst into its small Parlour. C. B. was just sitting down to an early tea, which he had hoped would make up a little for the lunch he had missed. He looked up to hear John shout:

`Didn't you see that car go by? It was he, driven by his black servant. They've taken the road the lorry took this morning.'

With a sigh, C. B. abandoned his untasted tea and followed John out to the yard, where they had parked the car under a lean to. Three minutes later they were on the road to Weeley. The Canon's car was out of sight; so they had to take a chance at the crossroads and, instead of continuing south, turned off to Thorpe le Soken. There they took another chance and turned north towards Great Oakley. They passed the place where they had met Joe Cotton in his lorry two an a half hours earlier, and still they had not picked up the Canon's car. It was not until they had covered another three miles that C. B. spotted a low moving blob that he thought must be it, far away to their right in the midst of the apparently trackless marshes.

A quarter of a mile farther on they found a narrow track that led seaward, and took it. A few minutes later, after passing a patch of tall reeds, they caught sight of the car again, and some way beyond it the upper structure of the seaplane.

`Look!' cried John bitterly. `I've been expecting this ever since I saw the road the Canon took out of Little Bentford. Upson didn't leave for France early this afternoon, as we thought. If only we had looked a round a bit we might have caught him in his lair, and made a darn' good bid to sink his aircraft.'

`Once the horse was out of the stable, and one saw the direction it was taking, it was easy enough to guess where it would pull up,' C. B. agreed. `But we might have hunted this wilderness for a couple of days without catching sight of Upson's plane. Given a nice straight piece of Nile it would have been easier to find Moses among the bulrushes.'

Within a few hundred yards of leaving the road, it became clear that they were not on the same track as the Canon's car had taken; but it also led towards the sheet of open water upon which the seaplane sat motionless.

,'Stop, John!' C. B. cried. `We must go back! This way we'll be cut off by the water from getting at him.'

At that moment they came out from behind another wide patch of tall reeds and could again see the Canon's car. It had halted about four hundred yards away. Near it, on the water's edge, rose the roof of a low boat house. John had already put on the brake, but as the car continued to run forward at a slower pace they saw that the track curved round in the direction they wanted to go. Assuming that it joined the other further on, John took off the brake. Gathering speed again they covered another hundred yards, once more behind a screen of reeds. When they could next see the water, the Canon was out of his car and down by the boat house. Beside it lay a broad duck punt. In the punt stood a countryman holding a tall pole.

The track had now become a narrow causeway and was very bumpy. As they bucketed along they could see the

Canon looking in their direction. Only two hundred yards separated them from him. Stooping down, he made the gesture of picking up something from the ground. Raising his arm he appeared to throw it at them.

John jerked his head aside. The car swerved violently.

`Look where you're going not at him!' yelled C. B. But his shout of warning came too late. The near front wheel had gone over the edge of the low bank. The stiff reeds made a sharp rustling sound as they scraped along the coachwork of the car. Heaving on the steering wheel, John strove to right it; but the bank was too steep. The car heeled over sideways, ran on for a dozen yards, then lurched to a stop, both its near wheels axle deep in mud and water.

`You idiot!' snapped C. B. `Why the hell didn't you keep your eyes on the track?'

`I couldn't help ducking when he threw that stone,' John protested angrily. `It was instinct.'

`He made the motion of throwing, but he didn't throw anything.'

`Yes he did; a damn' great stone. It came hurtling straight at the windscreen.'

`He didn't, I tell you. He couldn't have thrown anything that distance.'

`I saw it.'

`No you didn't,' C. B. said bitterly. `But I don't doubt you thought you did. It just shows what a powerful Black he is to have been able to cast the thought into your mind so successfully.'

While they were speaking they had scrambled out of the car and started to run down the track. It curved again round another island of reeds, then came to an abrupt ending at a rough wooden landing stage.

With a curse John made to plunge into the water. Grabbing his coat collar, C. B. pulled him back and cried, `Don't be a fool! The mud in these marshes is yards deep in places, and there are under water reeds as well. You would drown for a certainty.'

To have run all the way back to the road, then down the other track which followed the far side of the creek on which they were standing, would have taken at least twenty minutes. Impotent and furious, they could only remain where they were, watching the final scene of their enemy's triumph.

The coloured servant had already turned the Canon's car and was driving it back towards the road. The Canon was now in the punt and being poled out to the seaplane. They could see now that, although small and tubby, it was a powerful twin-​engined affair. Upson came to its door and helped his passenger aboard.

As the labourer in the punt pushed off C. B. cupped his hands and yelled to him to come and pick them up, offering him treble the money he had received for ferrying out his last passenger if he would do so. He made the bid only as a forlorn hope and, as he expected, it proved futile. Either from fear of the Canon, or because he knew that he had been assisting an illegal emigration, the fellow ignored C.B.'s shouts, poled the punt back into the boathouse, then disappeared among the reeds. By that time Upson had the seaplane's engines running. Two minutes later it turned into the wind and ran forward. A double sheet of spray hissed up from beneath its stern and a quarter of a mile down the creek it sailed gracefully into the air.

Returning to the car, they spent twenty minutes trying to get it unditched; but there was no brushwood, or anything else of that kind in the vicinity that they could stuff under the wheels to give them a grip; so they were forced to abandon their efforts.

C. B. glanced at his watch and said, `This is not so good, John. It is a quarter-​past four and we are miles from anywhere. If we had the use of the car we could have reached London before dark and, perhaps, managed to hire a plane to fly us out to Nice; but that is ruled out now. It must be a good hour's tramp to the nearest village and in these little places they don't run to hire cars. By the time we've telephoned to Colchester and got a car to pick us up, then done the seventy miles to Northolt, it will be getting on for eight o'clock; and the aircraft of the private companies are not equipped for night flying.'

John looked a little puzzled as he replied, `But we decided to stay here.'

`That was when we thought the Canon meant to stay here too, and we could keep a watch on him.'

`I know; and the fact that he will now be down on the Riviera by about nine o'clock naturally adds to the chances of his being able to get Christina out of prison. After your visit last night he is certain to have telephoned de Grasse to make all the preliminary arrangements for his attempt; and now he'll have the whole of the night to work in. But all the same, it seems to me that we still have a good hope of spiking his guns at the last moment.'

`You mean if the prison authorities do their stuff? I agree about that. From the moment the idea of putting her inside was mooted I felt that we were on a winner. And in spite of what the old so and so said to me last night I'd still lay three to one against his or any other Black Magician succeeding in getting her out at such short notice.'

`No, I didn't mean that, C. B. I meant in the worst went saying that he does succeed. He has still got to bring her and the homunculus back here to morrow. Seaplanes can't just land anywhere. At least, this one can't if it is to fulfill its purpose of putting the Canon, Christina either unwillingly or unconscious and that heavy crate safely ashore. And I should think the odds are very much against his having another prepared base in this neighborhood, because he could hardly have foreseen that we should discover this one. Now that we have, you can go to the police, report his unauthorized departure from the country, and have it watched for their return. We'll relieve him of Christina as he lands, and have him and Upson arrested.'

C. B. looked at John and his face was troubled. `It's a good idea, laddie; but I'm afraid it won't work out. Now he knows we know his base he is much too crafty to return to it. And there is more to it than that. You remember what we were saying a while ago; about our being certain of winning out on the big issue only if we could prevent one of the three factors Canon, homunculus and Christina from joining up with the other two? Well, that is now beyond our power. In a few hours' time all three of them will be in Nice. You know the story of Mahomet when he couldn't get the mountain to come to him? In this case Christina is the mountain; and so far the Canon has failed to budge her. Since we have made things so hot for him here, and the time in which to get her back is now so short, it is my bet that he decided this morning to do the job out there. That is why he had the homunculus put on the seaplane instead of hiding it in the house of a pal. And now Mahomet has gone to the mountain.'

21

The Pact with Satan

`Oh God!' muttered John. `So far that fiend has won every trick, and soon there will be only a few locked doors between him and Christina. Is there nothing we can do to help in preventing him from getting at her?'

`We can send a telegram warning Malouet that the Canon is on his way,' C. B. suggested. `There is just a chance that the French police might pick him up on landing. If so, he could be arrested for illegal entry. But you can be sure that he has been in communication with de Grasse about flying out; so the seaplane will not come down at the Ile de Port Cros. De Grasse would not risk that. He will appreciate that since our visit to it yesterday morning Malouet may have got the police to keep it under observation; so he will have instructed Upson to land at one of his other haunts, where there is little chance of his being spotted. I'm afraid, John, that for to night you'll have to pin your faith on the French prison system; and believe me, it's a pretty good one.'

`I only hope you're right. Anyhow, the sooner we send that telegram, the better.' Leaning through the window of the car, John pulled a map from the pocket next to the driver's seat. A glance at it showed that the nearest village was probably Great Oakley. They could not be certain of their exact position among the tangled creeks of Hansford Water, but judged the village to be between three and five miles distant. Having locked the car they set off there.

The sky was a uniform grey, but somewhere in the west the sun was now getting down towards the horizon, and as they began to trudge in that direction John wondered miserably how fate would deal with Christina during this last critical night before her birthday. He would have given a great deal to be with her or, that being out of the question, at least able to keep watch outside her prison; and his impotence riled him all the more from the fact that it was he who had taken the decision to remain in England to watch the Canon. C. B. had given him the choice early that afternoon, and had he chosen the alternative they could have been well on their way to Nice by now. Yet he knew that it was silly to blame himself for his blunder, as it had seemed the best course to take at the time.

It was half past five when they reached Great Oakley and the light was fading. From the village pub they telephoned their telegram to Malouet, then put through a call to a garage in Colchester for a breakdown van with a searchlight. It picked them up at a quarter past six and they returned to the marshes. They lost twenty minutes searching along several tracks for the point at which C.B.’s car had become ditched, but once they found it there was little difficulty in hauling the car out. Both of them now thought it unlikely that the seaplane would bring the Canon back and land again on the same stretch of water next day, but that possibility could not be ignored; so they intended asking the police to keep a watch on it. To do so meant going in to Colchester and, with the Canon gone, there no longer seemed any point in their sleeping at Little Bentford. In consequence, in the car with John at the wheel once more, they collected their bags from the Weavers Arms and drove to the market town. There John dropped C. B. off at the police station and went on to book rooms and order dinner at the Red Lion.

By then it was getting on for eight o'clock. Soon afterwards C. B. came in and they sat down to dine. While they ate, in low voices they reviewed the situation, and could not escape the fact that they had far graver grounds for depression than they had had when dining there the night before. Then, their only cause for gloom had been that their journey appeared to have been rendered futile by their failure to locate Beddows through his office. Now they had found him, but he had refused them his help.

They had also found out a great deal about the Canon; above all, that he was not merely seeking to corrupt Christina but, if he could get hold of her, meant to kill her.

The thought of the night to come, and his utter helplessness during it, to which he must attempt to reconcile himself, had now been preying on John's mind for four hours. He seemed obsessed with the idea that if only they could think of it, there must be some way in which they could either foil the Canon in his bid to get at Christina, or strengthen her mind to resist his influence.

C. B. could only suggest that they should rout out a parson, beg the keys of his church and pray for her in it. John said he would willingly spend the night on his knees, but had always believed that God helped those who helped themselves; and felt sure that there must be some active measure which might bring about more definite results. Yet it was the suggestion of prayer that gave him an idea, and after a moment he said

`I am still convinced that something could be done through Beddows. After all, he is much more than Christina's physical father. As it was he who sold her to the Devil, he is her godfather as well and not just in the modem sense of buying her a christening mug and trying to remember to give her a quid on her birthdays. By inducting him as a Satanist the Canon took spiritual responsibility for Christina. If we could only persuade him to pray to Jesus Christ for her to night I believe we would achieve something really worth while.'

`I get the idea,' murmured C. B. dubiously. `As he admitted to us that it was having her baptised into the Satanic faith which makes her subject to evil influences during the hours of darkness, your theory is that if we could get him to recant she would no longer be subject to those influences.'

`Exactly ! Then, whatever success the Canon may have in casting spells on her jailers to night, when it comes to willing her to leave her cell she would reject the thought and sit tight there.'

C. B. rubbed his big nose. `Your reasoning seems sound enough; but I'd as soon hope to jump Becher's Brook on a donkey as get Beddows to do as you suggest. Do you realise that after all these years of battening on the fruits of evil he would have to abjure his Master? It isn't even as if he really cares very deeply what happens to Christina. And the risk! If he forswears Satan now, it wouldn't surprise me to see him struck dead by some form of seizure.'

`Well, he has had his fling; and if he lives on he will be lucky if he escapes being hounded into a madhouse by the Canon. Providing he abjures, even if he does die, we shall have achieved our object, and I wouldn't allow his life to weigh with me for one moment against Christina's. I agree that it is a thousand to one against our being able to persuade him to rely on God's mercy,, but there is that one chance; and to make the attempt is a thousand times better than spending the night doing nothing.'

'O.K., partner.' C. B. finished his port. `We'll pay him another visit.'

Soon after ten they were again approaching The Grange. Now that they knew its owner was there they were indifferent to the possibility of the Jutsons hearing them and coming on the scene; they drove straight up to the front door. But, knowing that their ring would not be answered, on getting out they walked round to the yard. No chinks of light showed between the curtains of the windows above the stable, and with no more than a glance at them they entered the house through the staircase window, the catch of which C. B. had forced the night before.

By the light of C.B.’s torch they proceeded through the baize door, across the hall and up the stairs. The atmosphere of the house was still chill and eerie, but to night it did not fill them with the fears that had racked their nerves during their previous visit. Swinging themselves across the gap in the floorboards of the landing, they approached the upper flight of stairs. The clanking of the ape's chain came clearly, telling them that it had been freed no doubt by Jutson when he had come up to give it fresh food and water that morning so they expected to have to catch and bind it again. That proved unnecessary. The creature had evidently learnt its lesson, for the moment C. B. shone his torch it cowered away, chattering with fright, into the farthest comer of the upper landing. Keeping a wary eye on it, they climbed the stairs and sidled past to the door of the great attic. Its lock had not been repaired and the door opened at a touch.

Beyond it the scene was the same almost unbelievable one that would for ever remain engraved upon their memories. There sat the twentieth century business man cross legged on his blankets, his back propped against the tea chest, surrounded by the paraphernalia of mediaeval witchcraft, his form dimly lit by the unflickering blue light given off from the glass tubes of the pentacle that enclosed him.

This time he showed no fear of his visitors. Their approach had roused him from a doze, and after giving himself a little shake he said, none too cordially, `So it's you two again. What d'you want now?'

C. B. felt that this was John's party; so he waited for him to speak, and John, having decided on the way there that a tactful approach was essential to any hope of success, replied quietly

`A lot has happened since we saw you last night, Mr. Beddows; so we thought we ought to come and report.'

`Why? I'm not employing you.' Beddows gave him a chilly stare.

`No; but I'm sure you are not indifferent to Chris ... to

Ellen's fate; otherwise you would not have gone to such trouble to hide her in the South of France. What is more, you are vitally concerned in the outcome of this affair yourself.'

`I can't stop you talking, if you want to,' came the ungracious reply; `but if you think you are going to wheedle me into taking any action you might as well save your breath.'

`We've come to you partly because we want your advice.!

'All right.' Beddows' voice sounded as though he was slightly reassured. `Advice costs nothing. Go ahead.!

'Thanks.' Feeling a trifle awkward standing there, John took a step forward and sat down on the floor as near as he could get to Beddows while remaining outside the pentacle. As C. B. followed his example, he began to give an account of all that had happened that day. When he had done, he went on

'Now! One of the things we wanted to ask you, Mr. Beddows, is can the Canon perform his ritual with the homunculus and Ellen anywhere, or will he have to bring them back to do the job to morrow night in his own crypt?'

`He needn't bring them back, but he can't do it anywhere. The ceremony must be performed on an altar that has been properly dedicated to the Lord Satan.'

`We feared as much. Are there many such altars in the South of France?'

`A certain number. There is at least one in every big city in the world. All over Europe they are scattered in the. country parts too; mostly ruined abbeys, old castles and such.'

`Do you know the whereabouts of any of those on the Riviera?'

Beddows shook his head. `No; I've never attended a ceremony outside England.'

After a moment John asked, `What do you really think of the Canon's prospects of getting Ellen out of prison?'

`It is difficult to say. To do so he has got to temporarily paralyze a system. That is a far more formidable undertaking than enforcing sleep on the members of an ordinary household. No one of average powers would even attempt it; but he is an Ipsissimus, and there are few things impossible to a Mage of that highest grade. There is, too, one thing in his favour. If he can succeed in bemusing the jailers into unlocking the right doors, he will have no difficulty with Ellen. He will have only to call her on the astral, and she will walk out.'

`Yes; that is just what we fear. Can you suggest any means by which we might cause her to resist his will?'

`Only a White Magician who has greater power than Copely Syle could cause her to do that.'

`Do you know of one?'

`No. I've naturally kept clear of anyone I believed to be working on the Right Hand side.'

Again John paused, then he said, `I take it from what you were telling us last night that Ellen's subservience to evil during the dark hours is not part of her nature, but entirely due to the fact that you ... you had her baptised into the Satanic faith?'

`That's so.'

`If she were re baptised into the Christian faith, would that destroy the influence that the Dark Powers have over her?'

`No. There is no point in hiding the truth. It was I who sold her to the Devil; so only I can redeem her.' `How would you do that?'

Beddows gave a harsh laugh. `I wouldn’t! Is it likely? It would mean my abjuring Satan.'

`But if you did? Say you abjured Satan here and now, on her behalf and on your own, would that take immediate effect? Would it result in her resisting when the Canon calls her to night on the astral, and remaining in her cell?'

`Yes. The effect would be instantaneous. Of course, she would still be subject to hypnotic suggestion, like her jailers or anyone else, in normal circumstances in the future; but not to night. Such an act would restore the powers of her Guardian Angel, who has been chained all these years. Once freed, he would give her everything he'd got, and throw an aura round her which would protect her from every harmful thought.'

Beddows ceased speaking for a moment, then added suddenly in an aggressive voice, `But don't think what I've told you is going to get you anywhere. If you've come here to try to get me to abjure, you've backed the wrong horse. I've no intention of being struck dead by an apoplectic fit and frying for all Eternity.'

`Is that what it would mean for you?'

`Yes. Hell is real! Don't you believe these modem parsons who are fools enough to tell their congregations otherwise. I know, because I've seen it. Copely Syle showed it to me the night that he initiated me as a Neophyte of the Left Hand Path. And it is gaping wide with great tongues of flame for anyone like me should I betray the Master.'

`The mercy of God is infinite,' said John quietly.

`Maybe,' sneered Beddows. `But not till after one has paid the price for what one has taken at Satan's hands. God would leave me to burn for a thousand years before

He even had a look at me. If you think I'd give a blank cheque of that kind to save Ellen you must be crazy.'

John remained silent long enough for Beddows to cool down, then he said, `There is another thing we wanted to ask you about. Last night you told us that for a time you gave up your engineering studies on account of a personal attachment. Would you tell us about that?'

`Why? It has nothing whatever to do with this business of Copely Syle and Ellen.'

`I'm not so sure. I think it might have. Every major emotional experience in your life must have had some bearing on your present situation. Please tell us about it.'

Beddows shrugged. `Very well. Since I've told you the rest of the story, I may as well fill in the gap. When I first came here as chauffeur old Mrs. Durnsford had a companion. She was a girl named. Isobel a frail, gentle little thing, but very beautiful and the sort that is too good for this world. The old girl made her life hell, but she had to grin and bear it. You see, she was a poor relation, with no other relatives to go to, and neither the training nor the stamina to take any other job; so she had no alternative to staying on here.

`When I had been here for a bit Mrs. Durnsford had the idea that I should teach Isobel to drive the car. She didn't want to, and I didn't want to teach her, as I thought it might result in my being given the sack; but it was an order. Things being like that, Isobel's progress was not very fast; so I had plenty of opportunity to get to know her. At first she was very shy, but gradually we got to confiding in one another. I found then that behind her timid manner lay a wonderful mind, filled with courage, unselfishness and an infallible understanding of all the things that really matter.

`She held that money, birth and position counted for nothing; that real happiness could be gained only by giving happiness to others; that God always provided for His children if they did the right thing; that one should never strive to pile up possessions, but only to make people kinder to one another; and that one should live from day to day, so that if death came unexpectedly one could face it with the certainty that one's heart would weigh no more in the scales of judgment than the feather of truth.

`I fell in love with her; and, although I have never understood why, she fell in love with me. When she had got the hang of driving the car sufficient for there to be no excuse to give her further lessons, we continued to meet, but in secret, at any odd times we could snatch. Naturally I had told her all about my engineering ambitions, but she wasn't in favour of that. Partly because it would have meant living in a town, but more, really, because I had frankly admitted that my object in taking it up was solely to make money out of it.

`She had money coming to her: not a lot, but enough. Under a trust Mrs. Durnsford enjoyed the income on condition that she gave Isobel a home until she was twenty five. It could not be touched before that, but then the capital had to be handed over with no strings attached. We had eighteen months to go, but we were content to wait. Isobel wanted to start a small school for crippled and backward children. She would have given them the indoor lessons and I was to teach them gardening, carpentry, and a bit about the inside of cars, and generally run the place. That may sound very different from what I have made of my life, but I would have been far happier doing that. With those kiddies to look after there would have been more new interests every day than I get out of all my businesses; and no man could have been unhappy with Isobel for a wife.'

Beddows sighed heavily. `But it was not to be. Before Isobel was twenty four she fell ill. She was so frail that I think she must have always have had it in her, but she caught a chill and soon afterwards T.B. developed. After a bit they sent her to Switzerland, and I was distraught. But I managed to see her alone before she left. We swore we would love one another always and, of course, we promised to write frequently.

`We did; and for the first few weeks I received her letters quite regular. They told me about the place, and he other patients; about the nice young doctor who vas looking after her, and how she was sure she would be well enough to come home in time for Christmas.

Then her letters grew more infrequent, and after two intervals of ten days they stopped altogether. If I'd been a town chap I suppose I would have telegraphed her to know what was wrong, but sending cables to foreign countries was away over the head of a young country feller like I was in those days. I put her silence down to the young doctor. You see, I'd never been able to convince myself that I was good enough for her; so I didn't even write and ask her to let me know if she had changed her mind about marrying me. I just let my misery have free reign, and decided to stop writing till I heard from her again.

`About three weeks went by like that; then one day, as Mrs. Durnsford was getting into the car, she told me quite casual that Isobel was dead. It was a dirty, wicked lie may her soul rot ! But I never found that out until years later; in fact not until after she was dead herself. She had no near relatives, and when she died her executors sold off the whole contents of the house as well as the place. I had my own furniture, and I didn't want any of hers; but I thought the shelves in the study would look a bit bare without some books, so I bought those at the sale. Naturally, the executors removed her private papers, but there was one lot they overlooked. I came on them soon after I moved in. They were with a pack of Tarot cards and a collection of witch's brew recipes in what was left of a big old family Bible that had had its middle cut out to form a box. Among them was a score of letters from Isobel to me that I had never had.

`It was quite clear then what had happened. My post had always been delivered to the house with the rest of the letters before being brought across the yard to me by one of the maids. The old bitch must have seen a letter with Swiss stamps on addressed to me in Isobel's writing, steamed it open and read it. In our letters we naturally wrote of our love for one another and of our future plans. The thought of people being happy and making life better for a lot of crippled kids would have been poison to old Mother Durnsford. I bet she got no end of a kick out of sabotaging all our hopes. It would have been easy for her to intercept Isobel's letters a few at first, then all of them later on. That's what she had done; and when she judged that she had got me really worried she both provided an explanation why I had not received any letters from Isobel for the past few weeks and gave me the knock out; because the inference was that for some time before her death Isobel had been too ill to write. Mother Durnsford had rounded the affair off nice and neatly the other end too. The envelope of Isobel's last letter was marked `to await collection' and I saw from it that the old woman had written her saying that I'd gone away and left no address.

`Even that was not the full measure of her malice. Naturally, after I thought Isobel was dead I went all to pieces for a bit. But I was young and healthy, and next spring I started to tumble Hettie evenings in the barn. I've told you how she got in the family way with Ellen and spilled the beans about it. That must have given Mother Durnsford a fine old laugh. I didn't know it then, but she had learned from Isobel's letters how anxious I was to educate and improve myself. Nothing could have been more likely to scotch that than to tie me up to a brainless little working class slut who was going to have a kid, and would probably go on producing them like rabbits.

`Well, it didn't work out that way. But she succeeded in robbing me of Isobel; and you are quite right in your idea that losing her altered my whole life. I still don't see, though, what that has to do with the Canon and Ellen.'

John had listened to Beddows' love story with intense interest, and now he asked, `Did you ever find out what happened to Isobel?'

`Yes. After I found those letters I had enquiries made. There had been a world war in between, but they succeeded in tracing her up. She did die, but not till nearly a year after I believed her dead; and ever since I learned that I've been tortured by the belief that she just let herself die of a broken heart.'

`Say she had lived, Mr. Beddows, and you had found out sooner that she was alive would you have married her after your first wife died?'

`Of course I would.!

'But you couldn't possibly have married a person as fine as she was, unless you had first forsworn the Devil. To have continued secretly as a Satanist would have robbed your marriage with her of all the genuine happiness you expected to derive from it.'

`Yes; I see that,' Beddows admitted slowly. `Still, love is the greatest protective force in existence. I think hers would have proved strong enough to shield me from all but loss of my worldly wealth. Anyhow, it's true that I should have had to abjure in order to put myself right with her; and for her sake I would have risked anything.'

`You must have loved her very deeply.'

`More than anything in this world or the next.'

`Then you will be able to understand how I feel, Mr. Beddows, when I tell you that I love your daughter.'

Beddows raised his eyebrows. `Is that so? You haven't known her very long, have you?'

`No; but in the hours we have spent together much more has happened than during an ordinary courtship. We are already engaged to be married.'

For the first time a glint of humour showed in Beddows' brown eyes as he asked, `Am I to take it that you've come here to night to ask my consent?'

`We should be glad to have your blessing,' John answered seriously. `But first we need the help that only you can give. And you know how desperately we need it.'

`I'm sorry. Indeed I am. But it's no good harking back to that.'

`Mr. Beddows, you have just said that you loved Isobel more than anything in this world or the next. That implies that you still love her spirit. If it were here in this room to night as it may well be and could speak to you, what would it say? You know as well as I do that it would beg you to become again the person it knew and loved. It would urge you to defy Satan in order to save your daughter and make possible the happiness of another pair of lovers.'

`Yes,' Beddows muttered. `That's what it would say.'

`Then if you still love her, do this for her sake.'

The eyes of the man in the pentacle suddenly blazed, and he shouted, `Damn you, stop torturing me! I can’t! I won’t! Get to hell out of here P

After his long and skilful guidance of their talk, John had felt that he was almost on the verge of victory; so

Beddows' outburst came as a bitter disappointment. For a moment he remained silent, searching his mind for some last card that might yet win him over. To his distress he could think of nothing approaching the potency of the arguments he had already used; so he could only fall back upon what he felt to be a frail piece of reasoning, unlikely to alter a mind so evidently fixed by terror in its determination. Nevertheless he threw out the suggestion with no lessening of persistence.

`You were saying a little while ago that if Isobel had still been alive and you had abjured to put yourself right with her, you thought that her love would have protected you from all but the loss of your worldly wealth. Surely, although she is now a spirit, her love would continue to protect you?'

`No.' Beddows' voice was firm. `For all I know, during those last months she may have believed that I had deliberately jilted her, and died hating me. I can't afford to chance that. There is one thing and one thing only that could protect me. That is to cheat Satan by getting back the Pact I signed with him.'

John's muscles tensed. `D'you know where it is?' `Copely Syle has it.'

`I naturally supposed so; but he wouldn't carry it about on him. I mean, do you know where he keeps it?'

`I don't know for certain, but I can give a good guess. It is a hundred to one that after offering it up he would place a document of that kind under the Satanic altar in his crypt.'

`Then ...' John hesitated.

Beddows flung out his hands in a violent gesture of protest. `No, no! Don't think of it. Forget what I said! You're young and healthy! You should have many years of happiness ahead of you. There are plenty of other girls in the world besides Ellen. You would be crazy to try to raise that altar. You would be blasted where you stood. If you did survive you would be found as a gibbering idiot in the morning. I wouldn't let my worst enemy attempt to get that Pact.'

Slowly John stood up. `If I do get it, and give it to you to destroy, will you swear to me by your love for Isobel immediately to abjure Satan?'

A shudder ran through Beddows. With eyes distended by horror he stared up at John. For a moment he was silent, then he gasped, `All right! I swear. But I warned you: I warned you! You'll be going to your death.'

22

The Devil's Altar

The palms of John's hands were already sweating. His memory of the impotence and fear he had felt when in the crypt twenty four hours earlier was still vivid in his mind; yet he had made his decision the moment Beddows had spoken of the Pact as the price on which he must insist for his co operation.

John had come there determined to secure that co operation somehow; not only because it could bring to naught the Canon's attempt to get Christina out of prison during the night that was already upon them, but also because on that depended her whole future. To save her from an abominable death at the hands of Copely Syle was the overriding consideration for the moment, but even success in that could later prove a barren victory if she were to continue to be the nightly victim of evil cravings which, now she was out in the world, must soon lead her to become cynically immoral, decadent, unscrupulous and, perhaps, criminal. Only her father could save her from that by ratting on his bargain with the Devil. Since his price for that was the Pact, he must have it.

The mere idea of going into the crypt again filled John with terrifying qualms. He felt that to argue the matter further could only weaken his resolution, and that in immediate action lay his sole hope of maintaining it long enough to force himself to enter that Satanic stronghold Then he got there; so he said abruptly

`Perhaps you are right, and I'll be dead in an hour. If not, I'll be back here.' Then he turned towards the door.

'Hi C. B. called after him. `If we've got to do this thing, we had better take some weapons with us.'

`You are not in this!' John's voice was made surly by fear. `This is my show. You stay where you are.'

`Is it likely?' C. B. grunted. `I've never liked anything less in my life; but how could I ever face your mother if I let you go alone?' Turning to Beddows, he said, `These cups in the valleys of the pentacle have Holy water in them, haven't they? Where's the rest of it?'

Reaching behind him into the tea chest, Beddows produced a quart bottle half full. As he handed it over, C. B. asked :

`Have you any spare horse shoes?'

`No. I'm afraid not.'

`That's a pity,' muttered C. B. `And I daren't deprive you of any of your defences, in case something gets at you while we are away. I suppose you haven't got a crucifix in the house?'

Beddows shook his head. `Of course not! I could hardly bear to look at one, and it would burn me if I touched it. As it was I had to be mighty careful when I poured the Holy water out: if I had spilt any on my hands it would have scalded me.'

John was already at the door. Without another glance at Beddows, C. B. joined him and they hurried downstairs. When they reached the hall John made for the baize door, but C. B. called after him

`Hold your horses! We've got to forge a few astral weapons before we leave here. I wish to goodness we had a little time to make proper preparations. We ought to have necklaces of garlic and asafetida grass, not to mention purifying ourselves with the smoke of sweet herbs and putting on clean underclothes. Still, we must do the best we can.'

As he spoke he led the way through the breakfast room to the pantry, and began to pull open its rows of drawers one after another. In one he found string and scissors, in another a bundle of firewood. Handing them to John, he said

`Here, take these. Use four of the sticks to make two crosses. Bind them together with the string and attach long loops to them so that we can hang them round our necks.' In a corner of the room were stacked several crates. The top ones contained quart bottles of beer, but underneath found one holding small bottles of lemonade. Taking two of them, he opened and emptied them at the sink; ten refilled them with Holy water and corked them roughly with tight wads of screwed up newspaper. `Put this in your pocket,' he said, handing one of them John. `And don't use it until I tell you to.' The other pocketed himself.

Picking up a broom that stood behind the door, he wrenched out the long handle, then laid it over a Windsor chair and snapped it in two pieces about one third of the way up. With another length of string he lashed them together, so that they formed a large cross to carry in the hand. After a quick look round, he went to the further door that led to the rear quarters of the house, opened it and said

`I am going to hunt round for something with which to rise up the altar slab. In the meantime pull down some curtains, soak them with water and carry them out to the car. Unbolt the front door and go out by that. It will save me time

John did as he was told, and he was still piling the sopping mess on the floor in front of the back seat when C. B. rejoined him, carrying a steel case opener. As he held it out, he remarked, `This is not much bigger than my own jemmy, but the best thing I could find. You take and I'll carry the cross.'

As they got in the car and he started up the engine, John said, `I take it the wet things are for throwing down the furnace chimney?'

`Yes. We've been lucky here in finding that the Jutsons go to bed early; but it's only just eleven o'clock; so that coloured servant of the Canon's may still be up. I had thought of going to the front door and knocking him out soon as he answered it. We would be almost sure of having the free run of the place then, as it is most unlikely sat anyone who performs the Canon's tricks would have any other servants living in; but the door to the crypt is of iron and has a Chubb lock. As Copely Syle keeps the key to it on him we wouldn't be able to get in that way; so I think we would do better to ignore the Egyptian and go straight in down the chimney.'

A few minutes' drive brought them to The Priory. Pulling up a hundred yards short of it, John parked the car under the trees that overhung the road, and they got out. A light wind had risen, keeping off more rain, but the sky was four fifths scudding cloud and it was only when the moon broke through at intervals for a minute or two that there was enough light for them to see their way at all clearly.

Carrying the sopping curtains between them, they broke through the hedge into the coppice and approached the house by the route that John had taken the previous night. On reaching the crypt they dumped their burden and made a brief reconnaissance round the house and back. No light showed in any of the windows; so it looked as if the Egyptian had gone to bed. C. B., as the taller, gave John a leg up, passed him the bundle of curtains, and scrambled on to the roof after him. In single file they crossed it to the chimney.

`Now,' said C. B. in a low voice, `I needn't stress the fact that we are going into great danger. We must kneel down and pray.'

Side by side they went down on their knees, and remained so in silence for a few minutes. As they got up, C. B, murmured, `I wish I could remember the Twenty third Psalm. It is said to be exceptionally potent as a protection against demons. Do you recall how it goes?'

John shook his head. `I think it is the one that has in it “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil”; but I can't say for certain.'

`Then we had better stick to the Lord's Prayer. Keep on repeating it to yourself; and if anything nasty comes at you cry aloud, “In the name of Jesus Christ I defy thee, Satan.” '

John dropped the curtains down the wide chimney mouth. As they fell on the furnace at its bottom with a faint thud, he made to follow them; but C. B. pushed him firmly aside. `No, John. I am carrying the cross; so you must let me be the leader of this party. What is more, if at any time I tell you to get out, you will get out, and not stop to argue about it. By doing so you will not only save yourself, but will be able to bring help, with at least some chance of saving me later. Is that clear?'

As John nodded, C. B. swung his long legs over the chimney lip, found the first rungs inside and disappeared down it. Dropping the last few feet, he landed on the wet curtains. Beneath them the coke made a crunching sound, but the fire was dull and he scarcely felt its heat as he jumped off it.

The crypt was in darkness. Holding the cross in his left hand, he pulled his torch from his pocket with his right and switched it on. The instant he could see his way, he ran up the steps that led to the iron door and brushed down all the switches beside it, flooding the central aisle of the crypt with light. Pushing the torch back in his pocket he turned, planted his back firmly against the door, and only then let his glance rove round the vaulted chamber.

There was less change in it than he had expected from what Inspector Fuller had implied. The curtains at the far end, embroidered with the Goat of Mendes and the Woman with Seven Breasts, were gone; so were the sorcerer's robes, the altar cloth, the black candle, and the broken crucifix with the bat nailed upside down on it but the sword, the chalice and the book still reposed upon the altar slab, looking not inappropriate in the role of harmless ornaments. The skeleton still dangled grotesquely from its wire and the mummy case lay undisturbed beneath the nearest table; but both were the sort of exhibits that might be found in the museum workshop of any amateur scientist. That also applied to the astrolabe, the six out of the seven great glass jars that had contained the homunculi, and the bottles, measures, balances and retorts that loaded the four long refectory tables.

One sweeping glance was enough for C. B. to take that much in, and he had hardly had time to register it before John thumped down on the furnace, sprang off it and pulled the now steaming curtains after him. Neither had the least intention of staying there one moment longer than they had to, and both simultaneously started forward towards the altar. They had taken only two steps when a cock crowed.

The cock's raucous challenge, seeming unnaturally loud as it echoed from the stone arches overhead, sounded like the voice of doom. The two men halted in their tracks. The blood rushed to their hearts. Fearfully they jerked white faces round towards the left hand aisle and the shadowy tier of cages behind the row of pillars, from which the crowing came.

There was nothing really terrifying about the sound itself it was hearing it so unexpectedly in those surroundings. They had forgotten that although, according to the inspector's account, the Canon had disposed of all his maimed animals, he had not removed the chickens, doves and other fowl which he used for sacrifices. In the darkness they had all been silently sleeping, till the sudden switching on of all the lights had aroused them to chirp and flutter in a false dawn.

As realisation dawned upon the two intruders, that this was no demon giving tongue in the likeness of a bird, they let go their breath and breathed again; but only for a moment. Something moved swiftly behind one of the pillars. Both of them glimpsed the quick, furtive jump of a shadowy body, but neither could have said what it was. Instead of advancing further, they remained there, staring apprehensively at the base of the pillar behind which it had disappeared.

Before they could make up their minds to leave it unaccounted for in their rear, their attention was distracted to the roof. A faint squeaking sounded up in the shadows above the row of lights. There was a sudden movement up there too, then the squeaking ceased.

`Come on!' said John. `We're wasting time.'

As he spoke the thing behind the pillar moved again. It sprang out into the open, a yard ahead of them, right in their path. Their gasps merged into sighs of relief. It was an obscene and ugly creature, but appeared to be no more than an exceptionally large toad.

John took another step forward. His foot had not reached the ground when something hurtled at his head from above, like a small dive bomber. He gave a cry of fear and ducked, but caught a swift sight of the thing as it streaked downward between his upturned face and the nearest light. As he did so he upbraided himself for showing such funk, when the squeaking should have told him that the creatures above the lights were only bats.

Next moment he had cause for real terror. The toad had been watching him with bright, jewel like, unwinking eyes. Suddenly its mouth opened and it laughed.

That deep unholy chuckle, coming from a reptile, sent chills rippling down their spines. Instinctively they backed towards the steps.

`We've got to go forward,' said C. B. hoarsely. `If we lose our nerve now, we're finished.'

In two paces they recovered their lost ground; but the toad held his. Then an extraordinary thing happened. Its outline blurred and it crepitated until it turned into a yellowish green ball of gaseous matter. An instant later there were two toads squatting where there had been only one before.

With unbelieving eyes they stared at the twin creatures begotten so mysteriously. As they did so they heard a swish in the air above them, and this time two bats came hurtling at their heads. Both of them ducked; the two toads laughed, wobbled into whirling balls and became four.

It was at that moment that the lights went out.

For a few seconds they were blinded by the darkness; then they became conscious of a glow behind them. Swinging round they saw that the door had opened, and the Canon's coloured servant stood framed in it.

It occurred to them only then that he must have a key to the door in order to keep the furnace going and feed the birds. What had brought him on the scene they could not guess. They had been in the crypt for about two minutes. It was possible that he had heard the cock crow, or seen a light below the door, or simply come to stoke the furnace up for the night, or perhaps been summoned as the guardian of the place by some occult signal. They could only be certain that it was he who had turned out the lights; for as they swung upon him, he still had his dark hand on the two lowest switches.

After the unnerving episode of the toad a human enemy

held few terrors for the nocturnal intruders. The Egyptian was as tall as C. B. and the flowing white burnous which concealed his limbs gave him the appearance of being considerably more powerful; yet without a second's hesitation John tensed his muscles to spring up the steps towards him.

C. B. did likewise, then swiftly averted his gaze and shouted a warning. `Don't look at his eyes! Don't look at his eyes!'

It came too late. John was already staring straight into the coloured man's white rimmed eyeballs. The reason why he had switched out the lights instantly became clear. It was to prevent them dazzling him and to enable his eyes to become luminous in the semi darkness. In his coffee coloured face they now showed up brilliantly. They held John's gaze so that he could not draw it away, and seemed to increase in size with extraordinary swiftness. To his fury and amazement his body made a futile jerk, but he was incapable of launching himself up the stone stairway. The eyes that bored into his grew bigger and bigger, until they merged and became one great blinding circle of light. An intolerable pain shot through his head, his knees gave under him and he crumpled up on the lowest step.

The Egyptian had overcome him in a matter of seconds by catching his glance as he was about to jump. But C. B., after one glimpse of the baleful light in the coloured man's eyes, had torn his own away. Riveting his gaze on the stone flags of the floor for a moment, he concentrated both his mental and physical strength. Swiftly, he muttered a short prayer; then, without raising his glance, he hurled himself at the Egyptian's legs.

John had at that second collapsed. Having dealt successfully with one intruder, the Egyptian turned on the other. But he had time only to kick C. B. in the chest. The force of the kick would have broken C.B.’s breast bone had the man been wearing boots, but he had on only soft leather sandals. The jolt was no worse than a punch from a pugilist wearing boxing gloves; yet that was bad enough. It shook C. B. sufficiently to make him gasp and boggle his tackle. Instead of getting the man beneath the knees, he succeeded in grasping him only by one ankle. Tightening his grip, he drew a deep breath, then threw his weight backward.

The Egyptian's foot flew from beneath him and he crashed to the ground. Without losing a second he kicked out with his other foot. It caught C. B, on the head and sent him reeling down the steps. But John, now freed for a few seconds from the paralyzing effect of that hypnotic stare, was on his feet again. He still grasped in his right hand the steel case opener that he had been holding when he came down the chimney. Rushing up the steps he beat wildly at the coloured man with it Just as he was struggling back on to his feet. One blow caught him on the shoulder, and he let out a yell of pain. The second landed on his forehead. Without another sound, he went down like a pole axed bullock.

C. B. came panting up the steps into the doorway. Seeing the look on John's face he muttered, `Don't worry! These Arab types have heads like cannon balls. You haven't killed him. But he'll be out long enough not to bother us again. Help me to get him back into the passage.'

Grasping the unconscious man by the legs and shoulders, they pulled him from the stair head and clear of the door; then for a second they stood in it side by side, staring down into the crypt.

It was lit now only by the glow coming from the passage behind them, and was no longer silent. From all sides of it came weird discordant noises, as though it was filled with horrible, half human, half animal life. A lunatic like chuckling mingled with the bleating of a goat. The cock was crowing again, the bats squeaked as though they were now a legion, a pig grunted, and as a background to it there came a low rhythmical throbbing of voodoo drums.

`We've got to go in at the charge this time,' said C. B. urgently. `The longer we wait, the worse it will get. They can't harm us as long as. we remain defiant and trust in the Lord. To tackle the Gippy I had to drop my cross at the bottom of the steps. I've got to get that; so you must give me a moment to snatch it up. I'm going in now. As I grab it I'll give a shout. Switch on all the lights, then come hell for leather after me.'

As he finished speaking, he ran down the steps. Stooping, he seized the broomstick cross, lifted it on high and cried, `Oh Lord be with us the lights flashed on. John leapt down beside him. Together they dashed forward.

They had fifty feet to cover. In the brief space that the lights had been out the huge toads had multiplied exceedingly. A company of them, dozens strong, now barred the way between the tables and either side of them.. From the roof a cloud of bats streaked down.

The first rush carried them fifteen paces. They were halfway along the crypt, but there they lost momentum and their footsteps faltered. The bats thudded into their bodies and dashed themselves against their faces. The toads spat venom which turned into clouds of greenish vapour. It had the awful stench of rotting corpses. In a few moments it had formed a thick barrier through which the altar could no longer be seen. The poisonous fumes it carried stung their eyes and made their throats feel raw.

`Satan, I defy thee!' cried C. B. `Satan, I defy thee!' And John chimed in

`Oh God, destroy our enemies! Dear God, destroy our enemies!'

Suddenly the babble of sound subsided to a muted, angry muttering. The clouds of poisonous vapour dissolved. The bats flopped helplessly upon the floor, and the toads wilted into weak, flabby, groveling creatures.

Again C. B. and John ran forward; but a new terror arose to halt them. The lights flickered twice, then dimmed almost to extinction. Ahead of them the floor began to glow with a dull, reddish light, and to heave like the swell of an oily pond. It seemed to be imbued with some weird malevolent life of its own. With the next steps they could feel its heat through the soles of their shoes, and wisps of smoke curled up from the leather. The flagstones had become red hot, and those in front of the altar were molten

For a moment they remained half crouching, shoulder to shoulder, their eyes nearly dazzled by the glare that came from the shimmering crucible that threatened to engulf them if they advanced another few steps. A blast of intense heat hit against their hands and faces; so that in another few seconds the sweat was streaming from them.

`Have faith, John! Have faith!' whispered C. B. `If we trust in the Lord we can walk unharmed through this fiery furnace. We must go forward boldly.'

Simultaneously they began to recite the Lord's Prayer and walk steadily towards the altar. Their shoes ceased to char and, although the stones about them continued to appear white hot, they no longer felt any heat on the soles of their feet.

As they reached the altar the glow of the stones faded. Only then did they become aware that some awful thing was materializing on the altar itself. The lights remained dimmed and out of the shadows immediately in front of them emerged a monster that made them blanch with fear. It had a woman's face set in the middle of a round, fleshy body. The face was beautiful, yet incredibly evil: the body was covered with filthy suppurating sores and from it eight writhing, octopus like tentacles reached out to seize them.

Terror again gripped them as they sprang back to evade the groping tentacles. Then, recovering, himself, C. B. pulled the small bottle of Holy water from his pocket. Holding the cross aloft in his left hand, he tore the paper stopper from the bottle with his teeth and flung its contents at the demon.

The red lips of the woman's mouth opened and emitted a piercing scream. The tentacles threshed wildly. The leprous body suddenly exploded in a great puff of magenta coloured smoke. Its stench was so nauseating that both C. B. and John were seized with a fit of retching. When they could raise their heads again no trace of the awful thing remained upon the altar. They had just time for that one glance; then the dim lights flickered and went out, plunging that end of the crypt in total darkness.

Instantly they became aware that with the darkness had come a cessation of all sound. The voodoo drums, the horrid laughter, the snarling pandemonium made by the denizens of the Pit had given way, as at an order, to utter silence. There was something more frightening about the eerie stillness than the hideous noises that had preceded it.

Quite suddenly, too, the crypt had become as cold as the interior of an ice house.

With every nerve alert they waited, as though a paralysis had descended on them, riveting them there unable to move hand or foot. Then out of the blackness behind them came a clear silvery voice. It said

`I have always admired courage. You have proved yours; so I will give you that for which you came. You no longer have cause to be afraid. I have here the Pact which Henry Beddows signed with my servant Copely Syle. Turn round and you shall receive it as a free gift from me.'

`Don't look, John!' gasped C. B. `For God's sake don't turn round! Shut your ears to everything you hear and prise up the altar slab.'

As he spoke he lugged his torch from his pocket and shone it on the flat piece of stone. At that moment the voice came again, low and persuasive

`You foolish men. The Pact is not there. I have it here in my hand. For those who are not prepared to serve me willingly I have no use; and no one has ever accused me of meanness. I am not one to hold a man to his word when he regrets having given it. You may take the Pact back to Beddows and tell him that I release him from his bond.'

Ignoring the honeyed words, John forced the edge of the case opener under the slab and heaved upon it. The four foot long stone lifted a little. Another heave and a gap of a few inches showed below it: John dropped the heavy jemmy, got the fingers of both hands under the slab and prepared to exert all his strength in lifting it back like the lid of a great box.

Again the voice came, but its tone had changed. It now rang out like the clash of cold steel and was vibrant with menace.

`Stop!' it commanded. `I have allowed you to trifle with me long enough. I give you two minutes to leave my temple. Remain and I will make Hell gape open to receive you.'

With the sweat pouring from him in spite of the icy cold, John strove with all his might to raise the stone. It would not budge, and C. B. could not help him as he was holding the torch with one hand and the cross in the other.

Without warning, there came an ear splitting crash of thunder. The floor of the crypt heaved; its walls rocked. Throwing the arm with the hand that held the torch round John's shoulder, C. B. raised the cross high above both their heads and cried

`Oh Lord, defend us!'

There was a blinding flash. A fork of light streaked down through the roof striking, not them, but the centre of the altar slab, shattering it into a hundred fragments. God had intervened. Instantly a deafening din broke out. Cries, screams, moans and groans sounded from every direction, as the minions of Hell fled back into the dark underworld.

Still dazed, C. B. shone his torch down into the cavity now gaping where the altar stone had been. Among its fragments reposed a small, brass bound coffer. John pulled it out, snatched up his jemmy from the floor, and broke it open. It contained about twenty pieces of parchment. On all of them were several lines of writing in dried blood. Hastily John shuffled through them until he came on one signed `Henry Beddows'; then, with a sigh of relief, he crammed the whole lot into his pocket.

In the frightful stress and excitement of the last few moments they had scarcely been conscious that all the lights had come on again, or that big drops of rain were splashing upon them. Turning now, they saw that the crypt was as peaceful and empty as when they had entered it; then, on glancing up, they noticed that a three foot wide hole had been torn in the roof above the altar by the thunderbolt that had smashed it.

`Let's get out this way,' C. B. suggested, and, clambering up on the altar, they wriggled through the hole.

Outside the rain was sheeting down, and by the time they reached the car their outer garments were almost soaked through with it; but for the time being they could think of nothing except their delivery from the awful perils they had so recently encountered.

The car swiftly covered the mile back to The Grange. As they got out C. B. looked at his watch and said, `How long do you think we have been?'

`Goodness knows,' John muttered. `Two hours three perhaps.'

`No. It is now nineteen minutes past eleven. Allowing for going and coming back, and our reconnaissance round the house before we went in, we could not have been in the crypt much more than seven minutes.'

Two minutes later they were upstairs with Beddows. Until John showed him the Pact he could not believe that they had got it. At first he was overcome by astonishment at their success; then, as he looked at their haggard faces and realised what they had been through, his gratitude was pathetic.

C. B. took the rest of the papers from John with the remark, `I'll turn these in to Scotland Yard. They may be of use in tracing some of the Canon's associates; although I doubt if any of them could be persuaded to give evidence against him. Still, the people who signed these other Pacts will be informed that they have now been freed.'

He then stepped into the pentacle, removed the contents of the tea chest, turned it upside down, leant his broomstick cross upright against its back and set two of the unlit candles upon it, thus transforming it into a temporary altar. Having lit the candles, he said to Beddows

`Now, take the Pact in your right hand and burn it; then say these words after me.'

Beddows took the Pact, lit one corner of it, and repeated sentence by sentence as C. B. pronounced the abjuration:

`By this act I, Henry Beddows, renounce Satan and all his Works, now and for evermore, both on my own behalf and on that of my daughter Ellen. I have sinned grievously; but, trusting in the Divine Mercy promised by our Lord Jesus Christ to sinners who repent, I beg to be received back into God's grace. In the name of Christ I now call upon the Archangel Michael and his Host to protect my daughter, Ellen, this night; to guard her from all harmful thoughts and to deliver her from evil. Blessed be the names of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost for evermore. Amen.'

John and C. B. then knelt down beside Beddows and prayed, giving thanks for the courage they had been granted and their safe delivery from the Valley of the Shadow.

When they all stood up, and Beddows stepped from the pentacle, they saw with amazement that an extraordinary change had taken place in his appearance. He seemed to have aged twenty years. His broad shoulders slumped, his hair and the bristles of his beard had turned white; and he had the look of an old man. Yet, after thanking his rescuers, he said firmly

`I shall leave for the South of France first thing in the morning. Ellen should be safe now; but I mean to hunt Copely Syle down, and see to it that he goes to the Hell to which he has led so many others.'

C. B. endeavoured to hide his surprise at the transformation in Beddows, which was evidently the first sign of the payment he would now have to make for the twenty one years of favour he had secured by unholy means: then he said to John, `The outside chance of the Canon's coming back to morrow is taken care of by the police. They will pinch him if he lands illegally in the marshes. There is nothing more we can do here now; so we'll go South too.'

Glancing again at Beddows, he added, `I think it would be best if you accompanied us back to Colchester, as we must make a very early start. They will find you a room at the Red Lion, then we can all drive up to London together.'

`That suits me,' Beddows agreed. `But I'll have to get into some clothes and pack a bag. I am feeling very weak, too, from my long semi fast. While I am getting dressed perhaps you would go down to the larder. Jutson asked me through the door this morning if I was all right, as he had seen that somebody had been up here; but he doesn't know why I locked myself in, or anything about this business. He is very well paid to ask no questions; but all the same, the less he knows, the better; so I'd rather not have him routed out. It would save time, too, if you'd open up a tin or two for me yourselves, and I'll leave a note for him before we go. You will find quite a selection of tinned stuff down there, but anything will do.'

Together they descended to the first floor: Beddows went into his bedroom and the others continued on downstairs to prepare a picnic meal. A quarter of an hour later, when he joined them in the dining room, they had ready a spread of sardines, cold ham and tinned peaches. After their ordeal C. B. and John also felt hungry; so they sat down with him and, while he ate ravenously, kept him company.

Soon after midnight they left the table and went out to the car. As Beddows stowed his suitcase in the back he said, `I've never done the Government down more than I've had to; but this is a case in which I have no scruples. It may need big money to finance bringing Copely Syle to book; so we can't afford to observe currency restrictions. Fortunately, I've always kept a tidy sum in my wall safe against an emergency; so I was able to pack the best part of three thousand pounds in fivers into a couple of pairs of shoes.'

C. B. smiled a little wryly. `I'd rather you hadn't told me that; but since you have, how about if the emigration authorities search your baggage?'

Beddows smiled. `They might if I went to and fro regular. But the odds are all on my getting away with it once.'

At twenty five past twelve the night porter let them into the Red Lion. He booked Beddows a room on the same floor as the others, and entered an order from C. B. to call them all at a quarter to five. Before they went upstairs C. B. telephoned his office and asked the night duty officer to ring Northolt, and use all the pull he could to secure three seats on the plane leaving for Nice at 7.16.

Then they went up to their rooms, got the worst of the dirt off themselves with a quick wash, and, mentally exhausted from the strain of the past few hours. fell asleep as soon as their heads touched their pillows.

When C.B.’s bedside telephone rang, he roused out of a deep sleep and picked up the receiver, It was the night porter, who said

`Your call, sir. It's a quarter to five and about half an hour ago I took a telephone message from your office. It was to report a telegram which reads “Special stop Despatched from Police Headquarters Nice at naught hours twenty stop Christina removed from prison without authority twenty three hours fifteen stop Has since disappeared without trace stop Signed Malouet.”'

`Thank you,' said C. B. quietly; but as he hung up, his face was grim. In a few minutes he would have to break it to John that, although they had braved such fearful perils during the earlier part of the night they had, after all, failed to save Christina. Beddows had abjured Satan at a little after half past eleven. By about eighteen minutes the Canon had beaten them to it again.

23

The Cave of the Bats

Over the cups of coffee that the night porter had made for them and on the long drive to the airport, John and his two companions spoke little. After learning the contents of Malouet's telegram they could only hope that by the time they got to Nice the police would have succeeded in tracing the vanished prisoner: in the meantime all speculation on their chances of rescuing Christina was futile.

At Northolt a young man from C.B.’s office met them to take over his car, and told him that only by luck had it been possible to get three passages for Nice by the first plane that morning. The Riviera season was still at its height and the aircraft booked to capacity; but one travel agent had rung up the previous afternoon to charter a special plane for ten; so B.E.A. had decided to put an additional Viking on the run, which would carry Colonel Verney's party. C. B. then asked him to send a telegram to Molly, to let her know that they were on the plane and ask her to meet them at Nice.

The regular plane left on scheduled time, but there was some delay in its relief getting off, as it was held for two of the party of ten who, it transpired, were motoring down from Scotland. The others all appeared to know one another and were all middle aged or elderly people. Their clothes and hand baggage suggested that they were all very well off, which was borne out by a remark that John heard exchanged between two of the three women in the party, to the effect that they had decided to make the trip at the last moment only to attend a wedding.

While in the waiting room he had ample time to study their fellow passengers, but his thoughts being otherwise occupied he took little notice of them, except to remark that they seemed an exceptionally ugly lot. He reminded himself then that most fellow travellers seen at airports, railway stations and boarding liners appeared unprepossessing until one got to know them; yet his impression was strengthened on the arrival of the couple who had been motoring through the night from Scotland. The man was very tall and so lean that his skin seemed stretched over the bones of his face to a degree that made it almost corpse like, while the woman had the most disconcerting squint that he ever remembered seeing.

In spite of the delay, which held up the take off until twenty minutes to eight, the flying conditions were so good that the aircraft made up most of the lost time, and they came down in the brilliant sunshine of Nice at ten past one. Molly and Malouet were both there to meet them and, after Beddows had been introduced, the elderly ex inspector said

`I regret to say I have no news for you; but one gets as good a lunch at the airport restaurant here as anywhere in Nice; so I have booked a table. While we eat I will tell you all that is known of the most extraordinary occurrence last night.’

The meal justified his recommendation, but John scarcely noticed the wonderful selection of hors d'oeuvres, or the point at which he passed from eating Loup flambe to Escalope de Veau Milanese he was too intent on Malouet's report and the discussion that followed.

Apparently getting Christina out of prison had proved a much easier matter for the Canon than her friends had supposed would be the case, as he had found it necessary to exert his occult powers on only one person.

Three nights before, a murder had occurred in Nice. At a bistrot in the old part of the town a sailor had been mortally wounded by a knife thrust during a brawl in which several men were concerned. There was some doubt which of two men had delivered the fatal stab, and the patron of the place declared that a girl called Marie Courcelle must know the truth, because the quarrel had been

over her and she had been within an arm's length of the victim when the stabbing took place. The two suspects were Marie's lover and her brother, and both were under arrest, but she, evidently reluctant to give evidence against either, had promptly disappeared. However, the police had picked her up the previous morning in Marseilles, taken her into custody as a material witness, brought her back to Nice in the afternoon and lodged her in the women's prison which, also held Christina.

In accordance with French police practice, the huge d'Instruction had ordered a re enactment of the affair at the scene of the crime with all the principal participants present; and that no time might be lost he had ordered it for that evening at approximately the same hour as the stabbing had taken place two evenings earlier. It was at this point that the Canon must have entered the game.

The assumption was that he had learnt of the affair when, on his arrival, he had discussed ways and means with the de Grasses and had decided to make use of the huge d'Instruction. In any case, for some reason which this examining magistrate was afterwards utterly unable to explain, he had written Christina's name instead of Marie's on the form authorizing the release of prisoners under guard for questioning. A Black Maria had picked up the two men then called for Christina. The head wardress or duty knew nothing of the enquiry the magistrate was conducting and had acted on the instruction to hand over Christina, simply assuming that she was required for questioning about her own case at the Prefecture.

On the arrival of the Black Maria at the bistrot the mistake had at once become apparent. The magistrate, still presumably under the influence of the Canon, had then decided that the Black Maria should remain outside for the time being with the two men in it, while Christina was sent back to prison in a taxi and Marie brought there instead. A single gendarme had, quite reasonably, been considered an adequate escort for one young woman, and as a taxi driver, who had been having a drink at the bistrot when it was temporarily cleared by the police, was still outside among the little crowd that had collected they set off in his cab.

In the light of what had then occurred it seemed certain that the taxi driver was one of de Grasse's people, and had been deliberately planted in the bistrot. After driving a few hundred yards he had turned into a dark alley way, pulled up and opened the door of his cab. He had told the gendarme that he had stopped only to slip into his lodgings to pick up the thermos of hot coffee his wife would have ready for him for his night's work. While he was talking, another man opened the other door of the cab and, as the gendarme turned, squirted a water pistol in his eyes. The driver had then hit him on the back of the head, rendering him unconscious: He had come round to find himself bound, gagged and face down among some bushes. Later he had recovered sufficiently to squirm his way on to a path near the gate of a private garden, and to attract the attention of a passer by. He had been dumped in the grounds of a villa on the road to Villefranche and he naturally had no idea what had become of the taxi or Christina.

When Malouet had finished his report, C. B. asked, `How about Upson's seaplane? Is it known where he landed the Canon?'

`We think so;' Malouet pulled at his grey moustache; `but we cannot be absolutely certain. Last night there was a strange occurrence out at the great reservoir from which Nice draws her water supply. It is situated some miles inland from the city, up a broad valley in which few people live, other than scattered market garden cultivators. Soon after dark a car drove up to the quarters of the Superintendent. The men who work there had gone for the day; so he was alone except for his wife and son and the night watchman, who has a small office in the building. Four armed men got out of the car, entered the place, herded its inmates into the boiler room and kept them there for three quarters of an hour. There was no attempt at robbery and no damage done, other than the disconnecting of the telephone.

`When the intruders had gone the Superintendent reported this apparently pointless hold up to the police. They could offer no theory to account for it then; but further enquiries in the neighborhood this morning elicited the information that a seaplane was seen to come down on the reservoir about an hour after sunset. It would not have been visible from any considerable distance, but several people saw it land, and take off again about twenty minutes later. A woman living nearby states that a covered lorry with powerful headlights had been stationary on the road alongside the reservoir for some time before the plane came down. Such a large sheet of water would, of course, be easy to pick up as long as there was any light at all; so the headlights near it were probably used not only to help guide it in, but also as a signal to the pilot that all preparations had been made for his landing. Evidently, too, the men who held up the Superintendent and night watchman did so to ensure that they should know nothing of this illegal proceeding until after it had been completed; so they would be unable to interfere or communicate with the police.'

`I take it the police have not succeeded in tracing the lorry?' C. B. asked.

Malouet made a negative gesture. `One could hardly expect them to. Its presence there was not reported till this morning, and the description given of it was only of the vaguest.'

`Then the Canon has got away with the game again,' John commented bitterly. `It is a hundred to one on that having been Upson's seaplane. And how darned clever of them to have planned the timing of the job so well. By delaying his departure till the afternoon, Copely Syle was able to fly practically straight in to Nice, yet give Upson the benefit of last light for crossing the mountains. He must have worked fast, though, to have pulled that one over the huge d'Instruction so soon after his arrival.'

C. B. shrugged. `Two and a half hours should have been ample if the de Grasses had the job already planned and everything prepared for him. Then there is always the possibility that it proved unnecessary to resort to a magical operation. Not all law officers would be above taking a bribe to alter a name in an official document.'

`This man is, I think, an honourable magistrate,' Malouet said. `But one can never be certain of such things. There is, too, the fact that Satanism is world wide in its ramifications; so it is even possible that he is a secret associate of the Canon's, and acted as he did on a simple request.'

`Have you reason to suppose that Black Magic is widely practised down here?' C. B. enquired.

`I would not say that. Among the peasants up in the hill villages sorcery has played its part from time immemorial, and still does so. On the coast there is some sorcery, too, of a quite different type, which is resorted to by people who live here only for the gambling. Inveterate gamblers are always superstitious and easily become the dupes of occulists who promise them aid to win money at the tables. But activities which suggest the presence of genuine Satanists are no more frequent here than in Paris or Marseilles.'

`I asked because I think it very unlikely that the Canon will attempt to tackle this business to night on his own. Even if he doesn't assemble a full coven, he will almost certainly need a few brother warlocks to assist him with the homunculus. It occurred to me that if there are certain people in these parts whom you suspect of being practitioners of the Black Art, we might trace him through them.'

`You have been thinking on the same lines as myself,' Malouet nodded. `There is an antique dealer in Cannes, a Polish countess living here in Nice, and one or two others who may be worth investigating. I was going to suggest that this afternoon we should see if we could pick up a lead from one of them.'

`What about the de Grasses?' John demanded. `They are up to their ears in this.'

The ex inspector gave him a pitying look. `Is it likely that we should have neglected them, Monsieur; or that they are such fools as to have exposed themselves? M. le Marquis is still laid up with his wound and Count Jules has an alibi covering him from seven o'clock till past midnight.'

`But they must know the whole story. Upson is their man and the Canon travelled by his seaplane.'

`There is no proof whatever, Monsieur, that the seaplane that landed on the reservoir was Upson's.'

`Who can doubt it; or that the de Grasses did all the spade work for getting Christina out of prison?'

`Let us accept that,' agreed Malouet. `The police are endeavouring to trace the lorry which presumably drove away the Canon and the homunculus, and the taxi in which Mademoiselle Christina was carried off. But in both cases they have very little to go on, and nothing at all that links either up with the de Grasses.'

`They know the truth! We must get it out of them!' exclaimed John impatiently.

Molly laid a hand on his arm. `Johnny dear, don't be unreasonable. Since there is nothing with which they can be charged, the police have no excuse for questioning them; and they certainly won't give anything away to us.'

`But, Mumsie, we've got to make them, somehow,' he protested. `It is our only chance to find out what has been done with Christina.'

`There is still a chance that we may get a line through one of these occultists whom Monsieur Malouet suggests that we should investigate this afternoon,' C. B. put in quietly.

`Perhaps ! But we have only this afternoon left to work in,' John argued desperately. `So we can't possibly afford to ignore the only people we are all convinced could give us the facts if they liked. I am going to ring up Jules and make him give me an appointment.'

`Just as you like.' C. B. gave a little shrug. `But I'm afraid you will be knocking your head up against a brick wall.'

John jumped up and left the table to telephone. When he returned a few minutes later he said, `I got on to Jules at the Capricorn, and he has agreed to see me at four o'clock. Mumsie, you'll drive me over, won't you? And I'd like Mr. Beddows to come with us. He has certain arguments which I think might induce Jules to talk.'

Beddows had taken very little part in the conversation, but he now gave a quick nod and said, `I get the idea it's O.K. by me.'

C. B. had also got it, and turned a serious glance on John. `It's worth trying, though I doubt if Jules will prove willing to make any admissions, whatever you offer. Still, I can guess how you must be feeling; so good luck.'

As they left the table Malouet said, `Colonel Verney and I will maintain contact with the police in case they pick up any information about the lorry or the cab, and will spend the afternoon ourselves making enquiries in other quarters. If you wish to get in touch with us, ring up Inspector Drouet at the Prefecture in Nice. I will see to it that he knows from time to time where to get hold of us.'

Outside the airport they separated, C. B. and Malouet taking a taxi into the city, while Molly took the road to St. Tropez with John and Beddows as her passengers. At her villa they made a brief halt to drop their suitcases, but out of his Beddows took the bulk of his bank notes and stuffed them in his pockets. They reached the Capricorn soon after four, and as they drove up to the hotel Molly said to John

`I don't think I'll come in with you, Johnny. I'll just wait in the car and say a little prayer that things may go the way you want them to.'

`Thanks, Mumsie.' He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. `Keep on praying till we come out, please. This means an awful lot to me.'

On giving his name he was shown up at once to the de Grasses' suite. Jules let them in and John introduced Beddows to him. The young Frenchman gave Christina's father a swift, appraising look, then led them into the sitting room. When they were settled there John said:

`I'd like to come straight to the point. A few days ago you offered to double cross Canon Copely Syle if I would make it worth your while to do so. Is that offer still open?'

Jules' eyebrows rose in evident amusement. `A lot has happened since then; and things are rather different now, aren't they?'

`You mean that I caused you a lot of trouble, and that it was largely owing to my having taken a hand in the game that your father was wounded?'

To John's surprise, Jules replied, `No; I wasn't thinking of that. You made yourself a nuisance, of course, but even if you hadn't been with us at the chateau that hell cat might have got hold of Upson's pistol and run amok as she did; so I reckon that what we lost on the swings owing to your intervention we more than made up on the roundabouts. I saw you knock the gun up when she was about to shoot my father through the heart. I am very fond of my father, and it was your having saved his life that decided me to hear anything you had to say this afternoon.'

John smiled a little awkwardly. `I'm afraid I can't take any great credit for that, as it's a natural instinct not to want to see murder done. But of what were you thinking, when you said things are different now?'

`Simply that as we have already handed over the goods I don't think there is much that we can do.'

`You could put us on to the men who met the Canon, and those who later kidnapped Christina.'

`Perhaps; but that would mean laying certain friends of mine open to criminal proceedings; and that I am naturally not prepared to do.'

`I'm ready to ante up handsome, Count,' Beddows put in. `I've quite a tidy sum on me, and if more is needed I don't doubt I could fix passing it through the Tangier International Zone.'

`Thank you, sir,' said Jules, with a frigid little bow. `But it is not in the tradition of my family to sell our servants.'

John was tempted to make a swift retort to the effect that it was even more shameful to traffic in dope, arms and women; but he checked himself in time, and said, `May I ask you a question?'

`By all means.' Jules snapped a gold, pocket gas lighter to the Gitane cigarette that was hanging from his lips. `Do you know where Christina is now?'

`I haven't an idea.'

`Then do you know where the Canon plans to hold this abominable ceremony to night?'

With a genuinely puzzled look Jules asked, `What ceremony?'

`Surely you are aware of the reason why he has been trying to get hold of Christina?'

`No. I thought he just had a yen for her. Old boys do get that sort of thing for young girls, you know; and are often willing to part with a lot of money for a chance to gratify it.'

`This is something very different. He wants to use her

in what, for lack of a better name, we will call a Black Mass.'

`Really!' Jules' plump face showed only cynical interest. `That sounds very intriguing. Ellen, or Christina, or whatever you like to call her, would look pretty good stretched out naked on an altar. I think I must try to muscle in on that.'

John fought down an impulse to hit him, and said, `If you did, as the culminating point of the ritual consists in cutting her throat, you might find yourself later being charged as an accessory to murder.'

Letting out a low whistle, Jules stood up. `So it's not just fun and games, eh? Well, I don't wish her any harm, even if she is half off her nut; but I'm afraid there is not much I can do about it.'

`You said that you might muscle in on the ceremony. Could you do that? Or, at all events, find out where it is to take place?'

`I might, but it would not be easy. We did all that was required of us last night and were paid well for our trouble; but, to be honest, I don't think my own people could help much. What you have just told me explains a lot. You must already have a pretty shrewd idea how the two jobs were done; so there's no point in my concealing from you what happened afterwards. The Canon and the big crate he brought with him were taken to a villa on the outskirts of the town. Some three hours later Christina, doped and concealed in a large trunk, was delivered at what I imagine to have been the same place; but of that I can't be certain. You see, when the men who did these jobs reported to me this morning, none of them had anything but the vaguest idea where they had been. They couldn't even recall the district in which the villa lay.'

`Oh hell!' John groaned, at the thought that his last hope was slipping away. `Then that swine of a Canon pulled a fast one on you too, and hypnotized your men into forgetting where they had driven.'

Jules nodded. `That's about it. I couldn't understand what had come over my chaps this morning; but now you tell me that he is contemplating murder, the reason why he went to such lengths to cover up his tracks is obvious.'

`All the same,' Beddows put in, `you said just now that you might be able to find out where the ceremony is going to take place.'

`I could try; but it would mean putting a lot of people on the job, and they would have to work fast. You see, by this time the Canon may have carted Christina off to anywhere between Mentone and Marseilles, to have her handy to some devil ridden spot suitable for doing her in; so we shall have to cast a very wide net.'

`Thin get to it ! Money is no object.'

Giving Beddows an unfriendly stare Jules remarked, `If I do anything at all it will be for John, because he prevented that crazy daughter of yours from killing my father.' Then, as an afterthought, he added, `Still, we may as well look after the old firm as far as expenses are concerned. How much are you willing to pay?'

`I'll give you a thousand pounds down and another thousand if you get results.'

`Good. I'll have my people get a line on all the queers along the coast. There is an old priest at Cagnes who has a pretty gruesome reputation, and a fortune teller in Monte Carlo who does not stick to telling the cards. There is one man in Nice, too, who might know something if only we can persuade him to talk. He is an elderly cabaret singer with a husky bass voice, and he does his act in a dirty little dive off the Place Massena. One of his stunts is to intone the Paternoster backwards. However, the telephoning I am about to do is strictly private; so I must ask you to leave me now. I may be unlucky; in any case it will be a couple of hours or more before I am likely to have anything to tell you; so you had better make yourselves as comfortable as you can in the lounge downstairs.'

Beddows produced the thousand pounds; and John, now blessing the impulse which had caused him to save the Marquis from a bullet in the heart, thanked Jules for what he was about to do. Then they went down, collected Molly from the car, and ordered tea in the lounge as a means of killing a little time, although none of the three felt like drinking it.

John never remembered a longer hour than the one that followed. From time to time one of them endeavoured to start a conversation, but it inevitably tailed off into silence after the exchange of a few sentences; and, now that he had the leisure to con the cold, hard facts, the slenderness of their chance of saving Christina became more and more apparent to him. He pinned his faith on either bribing or bullying Jules into giving them the information that they needed so desperately; but it had turned out that he had not got it to give. He had, through a strange freak of fate, become friendly instead of hostile; but, in the event, all that he had actually done was cynically to accept a thousand pounds to institute the same sort of enquiry as Malouet was already engaged upon gratuitously.

John knew that on the Riviera there must be more people than anywhere else in the world who, having once been rich, had through wars, revolutions or gambling lost all but a pittance, and so were peculiarly susceptible to the temptation to attempt to regain something of their past affluence by trafficking with the supernatural; yet it seemed beyond all reason to hope that, in a matter of a few hours, one such could be found who was not only in the Canon's confidence, but prepared to betray him.

Outside, the sun was shining. Through the broad windows could be seen the lovely prospect of the blue, unruffled bay; with, in the foreground, two mimosa trees in blossom, a row of striped yellow cactus, and some brilliant scarlet geraniums in pots. Inside, there was the constant passing of well dressed men and women, laughing and carefree, all intent on the enjoyment of a summer holiday snatched from the grim winter in northern lands whence most of them came.

The contrast between the scene and the thoughts of the little party at the tea table made the long wait all the more intolerable. The minutes crawled by. For John each of them brought a new vision of Christina as she might be now, locked in some cellar; or in an attic room with barred windows; or with her clothes removed so that she could not escape, lying in bed half drugged as she would be tonight, carried away again, stifling in a trunk, to some secret place; fighting on her release until she was beaten into submission; stripped and cowering among a group of ghouls excited to a frenzy by unnatural lusts; screaming as the sharp sacrificial knife severed the muscles of her throat; still and dead with the blood gushing from her neck.

At half past five John ordered a round of drinks. In the next hour he knocked back five double Martinis. As he ordered a sixth Molly laid a hand on his arm and said

`Johnny, haven't you had enough anyhow for the time being?'

He turned and gave her a weak semblance of his old familiar grin. `Don't worry, Mumsie. People can't get drunk when they feel as wretched as I do.'

It was a quarter to seven when a page came to their table and said that Count Jules de Grasse would like to see them upstairs. Molly went out to the car; the two men hurried over to the lift. As soon as Jules had let them into the suite he said

`I think I have the information you want; but there is one proviso that I must make before I go any further. I require you both to give me your word of honour that you will not inform the police, either directly, or indirectly through your friends who brought them to the Ile de Port Cros, if I enable you to make use of the tip off I have secured.'

`Why?' asked John.

`Because you will need guides to take you to the place where the ceremony is to be performed; and the only guides with which I can provide you at such short notice are two smugglers who are wanted by the police. They are key men in our organization for exchanging goods across the Italian frontier. What is more, they trust me; so I cannot allow their safety to be jeopardized by the police being brought to the scene by other guides at round about the same time as they arrive there with you.'

`The Canon will probably have a number of people with him,' Beddows pointed out uneasily. `Last night I ... I was subjected to a shock that seems to have aged me greatly; so I'm afraid I wouldn't prove the man I was, in a fight. With only my help John Fountain might not be able to overcome them. In fact, instead of rescuing Ellen the two of us may be knocked on the head.'

Jules shrugged. `You must take your chance of that. In affair of this kind the participants are certain to be nervy. If you use your wits you should be able to succeed breaking the meeting up. Once my friends have taken you to the place and left you, I naturally have no objection your getting help from wherever you like; but I will not have you telephone to the police in advance any information likely to lead them to the place to which you will taken. Now, what do you say?'

Glancing at one another, Beddows and John nodded; the latter said, `All right; we both promise.'

`Good! I accept your promises; but even so it is unnecessary that you should know your final destination for the next hour or two. It is enough for me to tell you that to job is to be done up in the hills behind Nice. Drive back towards the city, but do not enter it. Across the Var and about two kilometres past the airport you will come to a turning that leads inland up to the little town of St. Pancrace. Outside the church there you will find two men waiting for you. The taller of the two has a red beard. they are your guides, and will take you to the spot where the Canon and his friends are meeting. But I should warn you that you have none too much time. The meeting is due to start at nine o'clock.'

`It would be,' Beddows muttered. `Christina's birth hour is nine forty five, and they would want to perform the ... the actual sacrifice as near that time as possible.' `And it is nearly seven already!' exclaimed John. `Come on! We must not waste a second!

Beddows threw the second thousand pounds worth of bank notes on the table; and with brief good byes to Jules they ran from the room. As they came hurrying out the hotel Molly saw them and started up the car. John took the wheel, and within three minutes of leaving Jules' suite they were on their way back to Nice.

It was still light, but there was a sharp chill in the air and the end of the sunny day was fast approaching. There as quite a lot of traffic on the road auto buses taking work people home and bringing less well off holidaymakers’ back from day excursions, many motor cycles, and the cars of the wealthy carrying couples and foursomes to neighboring towns to dinner but John snaked his way through it at high speed without taking too many risks that might have brought them to grief.

Before they had gone far he said, `It would save a little time if we could stick to N 7. and cut across inland from Frejus to Cannes, instead of going round by the coast road; but now we have to tackle the Canon's crowd on our own I think it's more important that we should call at the villa to collect some weapons.'

`No,' replied Molly promptly. `I thought this afternoon that we might need the armaments before we were through; so you can go by N.7. While you were dropping your bags at the villa on our way out I picked up some things. C. B. has still got my big gun, but I have the small one in my bag, and I've two heavy truncheons, knuckle dusters and knives in the back of the car for you. I put in a couple of extra torches and a bottle of brandy as well.'

`Good old Mumsie ! You've thought of everything. I wish you'd let me have your gun, though.'

`No, darling. I'm hanging on to that. This is a chance in a life time to see how it works.' the streets of St. Maxime and Frejus hardly caused John a check, but he had to slow down to go through Cannes, and by then the sun was setting. When they passed Antibes the sky behind them was a rich glow of orange and salmon pink which by the time they crossed the River Var had faded to a few streaks. It was half past eight and the light had gone as they wound their way up the hill into St. Pancrace.

The sweep of their headlights picked out a man who was standing on the steps of the church. As John pulled up he came forward. He was tall and bearded. Leaning down to the car window he asked in a low voice

`Has Monsieur come from St. Tropez?'

`Yes,.' replied John. `We are the friends of Monsieur le Comte.'

`Good!' nodded the man, and went on, `Monsieur will excuse me if I do not introduce myself. It will serve if you call me Number One and my companion, who you will meet later, Number Two. Do you know the road to Falicon?' John shook his head.

`It is through Gairaut and no great distance; but perhaps it would be best if Madame would allow me to occupy the front seat next to Monsieur.'

The rearrangement was soon made by Molly getting out and joining Beddows in the back. As they set off along the twisting road up hill again, John asked

`May we know where we are going?'

`Monsieur has given his word to M. le Comte not to communicate with the police until I and my friend have left him?'

`Yes; we won't let you down about that.'

`Then I am about to take you to the Cave of the Bats.'

Into John's mind there flashed a memory of the first time he had been in the crypt at The Priory, and had seen the bat nailed upside down to the broken crucifix on the altar. He suppressed a shudder as Beddows asked, in French that had an appalling accent but was just comprehensible:

`What sort of place is it?'

`A very unusual cave, Monsieur. Most caves are natural fissures in the rock and run more or less level for some distance into the mountainside; but this is not at all like that. It is entered by dropping through a hole high up on the side of a hill and, was made by man, or at' least has been much adapted by him, as it has several passages of uniform size and one quite large vaulted chamber. Even the archaeologists who visit it at times cannot say what race of men first used it. There is a legend that the Phoenicians offered up human sacrifices to their god, Pdaloch, there; but many think that long before that pre historic man had hewed the little temple nearly a hundred metres below the surface of the hillside as a place to perform his secret rites with doves and virgins.'

John felt the palms of his hands go damp upon the wheel. He had expected that he might have to break into some little wayside chapel which was being desecrated, or stumble his way through the ruins of a long since abandoned monastery; but this underground warren which had been the scene of countless ritual murders through the centuries sounded infinitely more terrifying. He began to pray that they would catch up with the Satanists before the latter reached their horrible rendezvous.

After they had covered another five kilometres up the winding hill road they approached a group of houses, and Number One said, `This is the hamlet of St. Michael. It is here that we leave the car. To the left of the crossroads there is an inn. You can park your car in the open space alongside it.'

As they pulled up and got out, a figure emerged from the shadow of some trees and gave a low whistle. Number One replied to it and the figure approached. It was Number Two. In a husky voice he made his report

`The tip off that M. le Comte got about the meeting being here was a right one. The party arrived in five cars nearly an hour ago. There were thirteen of them; nine men and four women. Out of the cars they unloaded a packing case, a big trunk, two stretchers to carry them on and some suitcases; then they sent all the cars away. One of the men led the way as guide and the other eight carried the loads on the stretchers. It was all very orderly with everything evidently arranged beforehand, as none of them uttered a word. They just formed a little procession and set off up the hill.'

John drew a quick breath. `Then they are nearly an hour ahead of us ! I was told that the meeting was not due to start till nine o'clock. It can't be much more than twenty to, and they may have started already.'

`No, Monsieur.' Number One shook his head. `They should be punctual, but not much in advance of the time set. They cannot have yet reached the cave. With burdens to carry over rough ground and uphill all the way they will find it a good hour's walk.'

Beddows swore, then apologized to Molly. Like John, he felt that the fact that they should be able to catch up a little through having nothing to carry was small consolation. He, too, had had an eye on the time, but had not realised that a long, hard walk lay ahead of them; so he had believed that there was a good hope of their coming up with the Canon's party before it reached the cave. Now that hope was dashed and they would have no alternative but to go down into it.

`There are times when I become profane myself,' Molly

replied a little grimly; then she added to John. `I shan't keep you a moment, but I'm just going into the inn.'

`Would it not be as well if Madame remained there?' suggested Number One.

`Yes, Mumsie,' said John quickly, `you must. You can't come up to this place with us.'

`Of course I'm coming,' she retorted, as she turned away.

`No, you are not,' he called after her. `I won't let you! And, anyhow, we can't possibly wait.'

`If you don't I'll get lost trying to follow you and probably fall down a precipice,' she called back. 'I tell you I won't keep you a moment; but I've been out all day and I simply must pop in here before I start climbing that hill.'

As she disappeared through the lighted doorway of the inn, John and Beddows got the weapons and torches out of the back of the car and distributed them in various pockets. Molly was as good as her word and rejoined them after a few minutes. Then, with Number Two leading the way, they set off in Indian file up a track that curved round behind some outhouses and chicken runs.

Within a few minutes they were out on the bare hillside and began to appreciate how rough the walking was going to be. The path was barely a foot wide and in places disappeared entirely. It wound in and out among knee high boulders between which grew myrtle, wild thyme and a low leafless shrub that had sharp prickles. Before they had covered two hundred yards they had barked their ankles half a dozen times stumbling over rocks and Molly's nylons were ruined.

`The Canon and his crew must have had the hell of a job getting up here with loaded stretchers,' John muttered.

`They were using torches, and that would have made keeping to the track much easier for them,' replied Number Two. `But we dare not do so, in case one of them is acting as a sentry on the hilltop and spots us following them.'

The path zigzagged diagonally along the slope of the hill and on their left its crest was visible against a starlit sky. After twenty minutes' gruelling tramp they reached a sparse belt of low trees, and Molly stopped to ask breathlessly

`How much further is it?'

`We are not half way yet, Madame,' Number One told her. `But higher up you will find the going a little less difficult.'

`Why not wait for us here, Mumsie?' John pleaded.

`No.' She shook her head. `I shall manage somehow.' Panting, they stumbled on through the trees until they came to a series of low terraces, which suggested that the hilltop had once been a Roman fort. Now they had to scramble up the rough stone walls of each terrace. Even with help Molly was sobbing for breath, and upon mounting the second she panted

`Is ... is the entrance to the cave ... on the hilltop here?'

`No, Madame.' Number Two shook his head. `We have to go up this way; but when we reach the top we have another half mile to do along the crest of the ridge.'

Gamely she struggled on up the last terraces, where there were again some trees and the low walls of ruins that might have been the remains of a few cottages. The men were all conscious that she was delaying the pace of the party, and John was half crazy with exasperation, but had not the heart to insist on leaving her behind.

Coming out from among the scattered trees they had to scramble down a further series of terraces, which proved nearly as arduous as getting up those they had scaled five minutes earlier. As they reached the last, Number Two halted. From their elevation they could now see the moon just over the crest of a much higher ridge to the east, and its light faintly lit the scene. Pointing along the ridge on which they stood he said

`Can you see that blob of white ahead of us and a little way down the slope to our right? That is a small pyramid of rough stone, erected no one knows when, to mark the entrance to the cave.

They could just make it out; but Molly had sunk sobbing and exhausted on toa large flat rock.

`I'm sorry!' she gasped, as the others again moved forward. `I can't go on yet! And I'm holding you up. You must leave me. I ... I'll follow you when I've had a few minutes' rest.'

`Hard luck, Mumsie,' John muttered, but they did not stop to argue with her. Every moment was now vital, and having brought her with them had already cost them most of the gain they might have made on the Satanists through having nothing to carry.

Below the terrace they struck another path, which Number Two told them was a smugglers' track, centuries old, leading in a dead straight line over the mountains to a point on the Rhine only forty kilometres from Strasbourg. John asked him then if he could tell them anything about the interior of the cave, and he replied

`Yes; I went down into it once as a boy. When one is older one has no stomach for such places, but youngsters have no fear of them. The air in it is good; so those who made it must have provided some system of ventilation, and it is always bone dry in there. As far as I recall it, from the entrance there is a sheer drop of about six metres. At the bottom one finds a flat space and a few shallow steps; then comes a steep slope downwards for some fifty metres. Where it ends there are three passages. Two of them are calls de sac, but I cannot remember which. The third is roughly ninety metres long and runs back under the hill here. At its end is what is called the sacrificial chamber.'

Still panting and stumbling, they advanced among the rocks until they were within forty feet of the pyramid. No one was on guard near it, and after the constant rustling made by their feet their coming to a halt brought a sudden eerie silence. They could see now by the moonlight that it was built with small uneven pieces of stone fitted skilfully together, and must originally have been about twenty feet in height; but its point and uppermost six feet of stones had been broken away, leaving it truncated, with its top an irregular platform. Its base was about thirty feet square and the side they were facing curved slightly inward to disappear into a black, gaping hole.

`Here, Messieurs, we will leave you,' said Number One. `It remains only for us to wish you good fortune.'

`Come with us,' said Beddows in his atrocious French. `I'll make it well worth your while. I'll pay you a hundred thousand francs apiece to come in with us.'

`I would not for a million, Monsieur,' replied Number One quickly; while Number Two shook his head, crossed himself and muttered, `We have only our suspicions of what has led thirteen people to go down there together to night; but" that is enough. I wish to die shriven; not of a fit from coming face to face with the Devil.'

Seeing that it would be useless to attempt to persuade them to change their minds John said, Then pray for us, please.'

`We will, Monsieur! We will!' they answered readily. Then both of them swung about and hastened away, taking a much more precipitous route across rocks between which no path could be seen,

Within a few moments John and Beddows reached the pyramid. Beside it lay two stretchers. At its base yawned the big hole, about ten feet in length, four feet across and roughly oval in shape. Dug firmly into its nearest lip were two strong steel hooks, and, suspended from them, the upper few feet of a rope ladder could be faintly discerned. Below that lay impenetrable darkness.

John shone his torch, and they could then see the bottom of the ladder trailing loose on a rough floor of stone twenty feet down. He was about to get on his knees when Beddows pushed him aside and said gruffly

`You keep your torch on. I got the girl into this; so I'm going first. Pray God we'll be in time, and that we manage to get her out.'

All day he had walked with a stoop, and shown signs of the new feebleness that had descended on him; but he seemed to have managed the climb up the hill without suffering the exhaustion one might have expected, and now both his voice and movements gave evidence of a sudden return of rugged strength.

Swinging himself over the edge, he got his feet on one of the rungs of the ladder and began to descend. John held the torch steady and took a quick look at his watch. Having been handicapped by Molly, the two mile climb had taken them a full three quarters of an hour. The margin left them was now reduced to a bare thirteen minutes. His heart began to hammer wildly.

The instant Beddows reached the floor of the shaft John

followed him down. Each holding his truncheon in his right hand and torch in his left they went forward. There were five shallow steps, then came the long steep slope leading into the bowels of the earth. As they slithered down it both were thinking of the countless gruesome companies of priests and victims which must have preceded them along it. For perhaps as much as ten thousand years, to mark the changing seasons, youths and maidens selected for their strength and beauty had been dragged down that slope by brutal witch doctors and demon ridden magicians; so that, by the infliction of a horrible death, their blood might appease Satan in the form of many monstrous, evil gods.

At the bottom of the slope they came upon the big trunk in which Christina had been brought there and the packing case now empty but for great masses of cotton wool that had been used to protect the glass jar containing the homunculus. Beside them were several suitcases, a pile of cloaks and several soft hats. Quickly now, they ran down the nearest passage. It was only four feet wide and after about thirty paces they found that it ended in a blank wall. Hurrying back, they tried the next. Some eighty feet from its entrance it curved slightly and in the distance they suddenly saw a faint light. Beddows was still leading and again broke into a run. John tapped him sharply on the shoulder and whispered urgently

`For God's sake go easy! Our only chance is to surprise them! Put out your torch, and make as little noise as possible.'

`You're right,' Beddows whispered back, and he dropped into a swift padding trot.

When they had covered another hundred feet, they could see a part of the chamber. It was lit only by a red glow from a brazier that was burning in its centre. Grotesque shadows were thrown up by people congregated round it. The murmur of voices reached them, and a thin discordant music, like a violin string being twanged at random, helped to cover the noise of their approach. On tip toe now, they advanced another sixty feet. As they did so they were able to make out more clearly what was going on in the temple. Only its central section, framed in the four feet wide and six feet high doorway, was visible to them but that was enough for them to see that the ritual had already started.

The Canon was standing with his back to them, intoning Hebrew from a large book. On either side of him stood another man. One of them was making the discordant music on a stringed instrument; the other was swinging a censer to and fro, from which issued wisps of evil smelling smoke. All three were clad in Satanic vestments in which they must have come to the cave, wearing over them the cast off cloaks that had been left in the little chamber where the long slope ended. Facing them stood Christina.

With the Canon practically blocking the line of vision it was difficult to catch more than glimpses of her from the passage; but John and Beddows could see that her eyes were closed and that she appeared to be fully dressed still. Turned towards her on either side, two women were holding her arms, but she looked as if she was standing without their support. Her hair was tousled, an ugly bruise disfigured one of her cheeks and she had a cut lip, from which a trickle of blood was running. The other members of this evil congregation were shut off from sight by the sides of the passage, as was also the jar containing the homunculus.

Beddows now had less than forty feet to go to reach the doorway. He had taken four more swift, cautious paces when the Canon stopped intoning and closed his book. Christina opened her eyes. Over the Canon's shoulder she saw her father, his face now lit by the glow from the brazier, advancing towards the entrance to the chamber. The mingled emotions of shock and hope proved too much for her. Unable to control herself, she let out a sudden scream.

As though they had been waiting for some such signal, Beddows and John rushed in. Brandishing their cudgels, they raced down the last thirty feet of passage and fell upon the Satanists. Taken completely by surprise, the devilish crew were seized by panic and cowered into groups for mutual protection. Beddows cracked in the head of one, and John delivered a swipe which smashed the face of another. Christina broke free from the two women, and threw the smaller of them to the floor.

For a moment it looked as if the champions of Light

were to be granted an easy triumph; but only for a moment. Beddows felled another man with a glancing blow, but a black haired woman with feverish eyes threw herself upon him like a tiger cat. Burying her teeth in his chin, she flung her arms about him, rendering abortive his further attempts to strike out. John's truncheon came whizzing down on a fourth man's shoulder, causing him to reel away with a scream of pain; but next second his arm was seized and he was flung back against the wall.

In two groups the remaining Satanists then hurled themselves on the intruders and bore them kicking to the ground. By then Christina had smashed her fist into the face of the second woman who had been holding her, and made a dash for the doorway; but there she was caught and dragged back by the Canon.

After some few moments of confusion a semblance of order was restored. Two of the Devil's congregation lay senseless and three others were groaning from their injuries; but eight remained unharmed, and between them they now held John, Beddows and Christina with their arms grasped behind their backs. Still panting, and slobbering with rage, the Canon addressed his evil flock

`Brothers and Sisters in Satan! Do not for one moment allow this interruption to our ceremony to lessen your faith in the protection of our blaster. That some of our number should have been injured is most regrettable; but Prince Lucifer must have willed it so. I know these men. One is the girl Ellen's father and the other her would be lover. Take notice that they come here alone, unsupported by the slaves of the Christian Law. They have been sent here and given into our hands for a purpose. Beyond doubt it is the Proud One's intention that they should witness the sacrifice, and be made fully aware of His greatness by also witnessing the miracle which will follow it. Afterwards they too shall know the coldness of the altar slab upon their bare backs and feel the sharpness of the sacrificial knife as it cuts through their throats. But we have not a moment to lose. Temporarily we must ignore the hurts of our brethren. The fateful hour approaches. We must allow nothing to prevent us from completing the ritual while the woman's birth star is at the zenith. The time has come to strip her.'

At this clarion call new heart entered into the Satanists. The men had nothing handy with which to bind John and Beddows; so they forced them to their knees and held them there. The women fell upon Christina like a pack of furies. She struggled wildly, until one of them hit her a savage blow under the chin, rendering her half unconscious. But, even then, instead of removing her clothes garment by garment they tore them from her body shred by shred, till she stood swaying among them stark naked except for her shoes and stockings.

Beddows was giving vent to an unending flow of curses. John ground his teeth in silent agony. He knew now that their hope of saving Christina was gone. They had made their last desperate bid and failed. He tried to pray, but the words would not come.

Christina, still struggling, was forced back against the altar and stretched out upon it. John could see her long, silk stockinged legs dangling over the right hand end of the altar; but he could not see the upper half of her body or her face, as they were hidden from him by one of the acolytes. The Canon again began to recite, this time in Latin, saying the Mass backwards. Parodying the motions of a priest, he bobbed and gestured to his assistants, who from time to time made hoarse responses to his muttering. A chalice was produced and Copely Syle spat into it several times, then again he muttered feverishly and genuflected while breaking Holy wafers, stolen from some church, into it. Then he picked it up and carried it to each member of the congregation in turn, for them to sup up some of the horrid, sodden mess.

As he reached the men who were holding Beddows, they relaxed their grip on him slightly, and he strove desperately to knock the chalice from Copely Syle's hands; but the Canon managed to protect his vile sacrament and enable Beddows' captors to partake of it. When all the members of his coven except the two who were unconscious, had done so, he carried it back to the altar, held it above Christina and swallowed what remained himself.

Setting the chalice down, he took from one of his assistants a small metal box that appeared to contain soot, and dipping his finger in it began to draw black symbols on each of Christina's limbs. As he did so he chanted unintelligible words in a high, excited voice. The sweat was now pouring down his flabby face and, as he proceeded with this new ritual, a frenzy seized upon his congregation, causing them to give vent to hideous animal noises and those who were free to do so pulled up their robes, exposing themselves.

With distended eyes John stared at the frightful spectacle being enacted before him. Already he had become vaguely conscious that some of the faces about him were familiar. Suddenly he realised where he had seen them before. Ten of them were those of the party who had flown out with him from Northolt that morning. Before leaving England the previous afternoon the Canon must have sent an S O S to ten of the leading Satanists of Britain to join him in Nice for the ceremony. The mention of a wedding he had overheard must have been a covert reference to the spiritual union of Christina with the homunculus. He could only guess that the two others, making up the coven of thirteen, were French Satanists who had selected the Cave of the Bats as an appropriate setting for this unholy marriage.

John's distraught glance switched to the homunculus. He had been given a description of it by C. B., but had never seen it. The big glass jar that contained it had been placed by the left hand end of a low altar, hewn from the living rock, at the far end of the small chamber. In the jar the squat, repulsive travesty of a female figure undulated gently, its arms and legs moving with the same apparent aimlessness as the tentacles of an octopus. Slowly the red rimmed eyes swivelled from side to side, while the mouth opened and shut with a fish like motion. As John gazed at it his flesh began to creep, and he felt that for sheer unadulterated filthiness the reality utterly beggared the description.

Suddenly the ritual of the symbols ended. The acolytes threw themselves on Christina, hauled her, now only half conscious, from the altar and stood her upright. One of the women near her produced a sack like robe with strange designs upon it. The garment was thrown over her and her arms were then pulled through slits in its sides. Another of the witches put a pointed fool's cap on her head and tied it there by a ribbon beneath her chin. Into John's mind came a picture of heretics on their way to the stake, to be burnt at the order of the Spanish Inquisition. The costume was evidently designed with the same intent, but had the symbols of the Devil instead of those of Christ figured upon it. A third witch tied Christina's hands in front of her with a strip from her torn dress. Next moment the three of them had flung her down again on her back along the altar. Her head now rested on the top of the jar that held the homunculus. The black haired witch removed its big round stopper. Sick with horror, John closed his eyes and again strove to pray.

When he opened them the Canon had begun another incantation. In a frenzy of excitement he mouthed and postured, while the witches held Christina down. The congregation screamed responses. Beddows shouted and cursed, and strove to break away; but he could not get up from his knees or shake off the men who held him. The Canon drew a long curved knife from his girdle and waved it aloft. Breaking into English he shrieked in a high falsetto

`The hour has come! The great hour has come! I, Augustus Copely Syle, Prince of the Bats and High Priest of the Lord Satan, by this act give a soul to my creation.'

`Stop!' John's yell cut through the hideous din. `Stop, I say! Your ceremony is useless. She is no longer a virgin! I took her virginity that night we were together on the Ile de Port Cros.'

A sudden deathly silence descended on the vaulted chamber. The Canon swung upon him, his face livid with ungovernable fury.

`It is not true!' he gasped. `It cannot be true.'

`It is! I swear it!' cried John desperately.

Copely Syle's eyes bulged, and he groaned. For a moment he remained silent and motionless, then he muttered, `Oh, I feared it! I feared it from the moment I saw you with her in the Casino!'

Again, for the space of a dozen heart beats, he stood glaring but seemingly paralyzed. It was Beddows who broke the spell by suddenly emitting a harsh, unnatural laugh.

It seemed to electrify the Canon. With blazing eyes he leapt towards John, brandishing the knife on high and screaming, `My life work is ruined. I will cut out your heart. I will cut out your heart!'

The knife cleaved the air with a swish. It was aimed at John's neck above the collar bone. Another second and it would have cleaved his jugular vein. Of the two men holding him on his knees one was the tall, gaunt faced individual who had come from Scotland. At the penultimate instant he struck the blade aside and cried

`No, Prince of the Bats, no! You cannot sully the sacred knife dedicated to the sacrifice of offerings on the altar. Do your will upon him, but not in blind anger. We are not here to witness common murder. I demand that he be sacrificed in due form, so that his blood may mingle with hers and the altar be deprived of neither.'

`Yes! Yes!' chorused the others, and the squint eyed witch who had also come from Scotland screamed above the rest, `But the woman first. She is ready for you, and we are waiting.'

Slowly Copely Syle turned about. His anger seemed suddenly to have drained from him, and he muttered to himself, `The incantation may yet work. It is her birth hour and she is twenty one.'

Again he approached the altar, and this time raised his knife with quiet deliberation. John felt as if his heart was about to burst from impotence and distress. For a moment hope had sprung wildly in his breast, but now he knew that final defeat was rushing upon him. Only seconds of life remained to Christina.

Suddenly, on an unbidden impulse, he found himself shouting with all the power of his lungs, `Christina, darling! I love you! I love you!'

As his voice rang through the chamber Christina's whole body tensed. With a violent jerk her wrists snapped the strip of fabric that bound them. From the impetus, her freed hands were flung out and backward. At the end of its swing her deft hand struck the jar that contained the homunculus. John's ring hit it with a loud clang. The inch thick glass shivered and broke as though it had been paper thin crystal. As the jar fell to pieces the liquid in it gushed out. For a moment the naked and obscene homunculus stood among the falling fragments; then she leapt straight at the Canon.

With a piercing shriek he staggered back under the impact. Her taloned hands dug into his shoulders; her claw like feet fixed themselves in his legs above the knees. For a few seconds her slimy, dripping face was pressed against his in an awful mockery of a kiss; then, her eyes goggling with her hunger for blood, she lowered it and fixed her teeth fiercely in his neck.

The rushing water from the jar swirled against the low brazier. The coals in it hissed and dulled, reducing the glow of light in the chamber to a glimmer. Pandemonium broke loose. Screaming, the Canon fell to the floor with the homunculus on top of him. Two of the men holding Beddows and John left them to run to his aid. By violent efforts both succeeded in throwing the others off. Beddows groped for his knuckle duster and pulled it from his pocket. John whipped out his knife. Savagely and indiscriminately they laid about them. Shrieks and curses told how their weapons were finding their marks.

Rushing forward, Beddows kicked over the brazier. The remainder of the live coals hissed in the water and swiftly dulled. Near darkness engulfed the awful mere. Beddows shouted to John

`Get the girl out! I'll keep these bastards busy.'

John had already reached Christina and pulled her to her feet. The squint eyed witch barred their path. Without hesitation John knifed her in the breast. With a filthy imprecation she clutched at the wound and staggered sideways. Jumping the still hissing coals, John and Christina dashed towards the doorway. As they did so, by the dying light they glimpsed the tall bony faced man charging at them. Evading his clutch by inches they gained the passage and sped down it.

Before they were half way to the foot of the slope John knew that Christina's strength was failing. With one hand he had thrust his knife into his pocket and pulled out his torch, so that he could light the way ahead of them the other he had round her waist and, as they ran on, he could feel her flagging. From behind them came the sounds of pounding feet, telling that they were very far from being out of danger. A veritable madness had seized upon the remaining Satanists, and those not occupied in endeavouring to overcome Beddows were in full pursuit, headed by the lean man from Scotland.

Gasping and reeling, the flying couple reached the slope, but after a few steps up it Christina staggered and fell. This last effort after her terrible ordeal had proved too much for her; she had fainted. She was nearly as tall as John, yet, temporarily granted superhuman strength, he pulled her arm across the 'back of his neck, heaved her up in a fireman's lift across his shoulders and continued the steep ascent.

Bent nearly double, he lurched a dozen steps; then he knew that he could never make it. He had still a hundred and twenty feet of slope to mount, and at its top he would have to get her up the twenty foot long rope ladder. Even a Hercules could not accomplish such a feat in time to escape the fiends who were now coming up the slope behind him, howling for vengeance.

Then for a moment he was given fresh hope by hearing Beddows' voice mingled with the rest, shouting, `Go on, John! Stick to it! I'll stop them following!'

That cheering sound told him that Beddows had either dealt with, or escaped from, the Satanists remaining in the temple, and was now attacking the others at the bottom of the slope.. It meant a brief respite and he did his utmost to make the best of it. Holding his torch in one hand and grasping Christina's wrist with the other, he dragged his feet yard by yard upward. Yet he was barely half way to the top when he fell to his knees, weighed down by Christina's limp body, and mentally crushed by the knowledge that he was at the end of his tether. In vain he tried to rise. He could not. He could only pray, and mutter over and over again

`Oh Lord, help us ! Oh Lord, help us!'

And then indeed help came. There was the sound of slithering footsteps above him, and the light of torches shone in his eyes. Echoing back from the stone walls C.B.’s voice reached him:

`John! John! Thank God we are in time!'

Willing hands lifted Christina off him. Still gasping for breath he staggered up the last half of the awful slope. At its top, C. B. and another man got Christina up the ladder. A third helped him to climb it.

Half dazed, he stepped out into the moonlight. His mother was there and flung her arms about him. Beside C. B. stood old Malouet, and with them were several gendarmes. It was they who carried Christina to one of the stretchers and covered her sacking garment with warm cloaks.

John was still standing on the edge of the hole when he again caught the clamour of the surviving Satanists. They had reached the platform immediately below the opening. Molly and C. B. ran to it. The latter shone his torch downwards. It lit a group of wild upturned faces. That of Beddows was among them. It was covered with blood, but he was still striking out at the nearest of the enemy. In the darkness and confusion they had failed to identify and overcome him.

What John took to be a stone fell into their midst. Next second there came a blinding flash of light and a shattering explosion. C. B. swore and pulled Molly back. Two of the gendarmes came running up to ask what had happened. No one could say. It could only be assumed that one of the Satanists had been carrying a package of explosives, and a blow upon it during the melee had set it off. When C. B. shone his torch down the hole again it revealed a tangle of dead and dying men and women.

Leaving all but two of the police, who had already picked up the stretcher on which Christina lay, to perform such rescue work as might still be possible, the others set off down the hill. When John had recovered a little he asked C. B.

`How did you manage to come on the scene like this and save us at the very last moment?'

`It was your mother, my boy,' C. B. replied. `She is a woman in a million.'

`Nonsense!' cut in Molly, who was walking just ahead of them. `I did no more than use my common sense. Your having promised Count Jules that you would not communicate with the police was not binding on me.'

`No,' said John slowly. `I suppose not. But how on earth did you manage to do it?'

`I didn't go into the inn for the reason you thought I did. It was to write a brief message. I gave it with a five hundred franc note to the woman I found behind the bar, in exchange for a promise that she would telephone it at once to Inspector Drouet. I knew that would bring our friends to St. Michael as soon as they received it. But I thought I ought to make certain of being able to find you as well; so I went up to the top of the hill with you, then threw a weak woman act as soon as the smugglers had pointed out the entrance to the cave. Immediately you were out of sight I hurried back to the inn, so that when the police arrived there I was able to lead them straight up to it.'

`Bless you, Mumsie; you really are a wonder.' John laughed. `And if it is true that you are not still on the secret list as Molly Polloffski the beautiful spy, that's a great loss to the nation.'

The arrival of the police at the inn an hour before had resulted in the good woman who ran it keeping it open a little later than usual, and it was still not eleven o'clock when the stretcher party arrived there. In the public room a warm fire was glowing in the stove, and Christina, now fully conscious again, was made comfortable in borrowed wraps beside it. C. B. ordered coffee laced with cognac for them all to warm them up, and when John carried two cups over to the corner where Christina was sitting the others discreetly took theirs to the far end of the room.

When John had settled himself beside Christina, he told her how Jules had enabled him to trace her to the Cave of the Bats, and how his mother's quick wits had brought the police on the scene in time to save them; but she smilingly shook her head.

`It was clever of you to think of making use of Jules, and wonderful of your mother to think of a way of getting help to us; but your first attempt to rescue me failed, and the police would have arrived too late if it hadn't been for your eleventh hour inspiration.'

`What do you mean by that?' he asked with a puzzled look.

`Why, that frightful lie you told about my no longer being a virgin.'

`By Jove!' he grinned. `D'you know, I'd already forgotten about that. It was a whopper, wasn't it? What's more I swore it, and that is perjury, or something. Do you think I'll be forgiven?'

`I'm sure you will. It must have gained us the best part of five minutes, and so saved my life. But that is not all. It was your ring that really saved us both.'

`Yes. There must have been some blessed magic in it for a single tap from it to have shattered that thick glass. Would you like to keep it?'

`Do you want me to?'

He hesitated, then asked, `Do you know that your father is dead?'

`No,' she replied calmly. `I was absolutely staggered to see him there. How did he come to be with you?'

`That is a long story, and I'll tell it to you to morrow. For the present it is enough to say that just after we got out of the cave there was an explosion and I saw him with his head half ... well, so badly injured that he couldn't possibly recover.'

`Poor Father,' she sighed. `It is sad to hear that; but he never loved me or I him; and you haven't told me yet how you induced him to come in with you.'

`Up to last night he was a Satanist himself. He sold you to the Devil when you were a baby. That was what made you so unlike your real self during the hours of darkness. But last night he repented and released you.'

`That would explain, then, why I felt so different soon after I was taken out of the prison, and again this evening after sunset.'

`Yes. He abjured Satan and all his works on your behalf; then he came back here with us to help to try to rescue you. But he is dead now. I am certain of it, and I have a reason for telling you so at once, instead of waiting until later.

Before he died he had no chance to alter his will; so nobody can yet know how he has left his money.'

`I don't quite see what you are driving at,' she murmured.

`Simply that I would like to ask you to marry me before it is known whether you are a great heiress or a pauper.'

`Oh John,' she smiled. `What has money got to do with it? Only one thing matters. Did you really mean it or not when, just before I snapped the stuff that bound my wrists and smashed the jar with your ring, you called out to me, “Darling, I love you! I love you! ”?'

`Of course I did.'

Her big brown eyes shone with happiness as she leaned towards him and whispered, `Then your own words are my answer.'

Inspector Drouet joined the party at the inn about half an hour later, and he confirmed that Henry Beddows was among the dead who had been recovered from the cave. As Christina was still technically under arrest he discussed her position with Malouet, then agreed to her provisional release on the ex inspector's stating that he would go surety for her.

Very tired now, John, Christina and C. B. went out to Molly's car, and it was she who drove them home. When they arrived at the villa it was after one o'clock, and John and Christina went straight up to their rooms; but C. B. asked Molly for a night cap.

Knowing his preference, she mixed him a whisky and soda; then made one for herself. He raised his glass, said, `Chin, chin!', then added in his most conspiratorial voice

`Can you tell me, Mrs. Fountain, any good and sufficient reason why I should not hand you over to the police on a charge of having committed mass murder?'

She suppressed a start, then asked with a bland smile, `What are you talking about, C. B.? I'm afraid all this excitement has proved a little too much for even you.'

`No, Molly,' he said seriously. `You can't laugh this thing off. I saw you drop that Mills bomb on to the heads of those wretched people.'

`Did you?' She smiled archly. `Well, I don't mind if you did. They were all horrors and menaces to everything decent in life. It is a good thing they are dead. Perhaps it was a pity about Beddows; but I'm not even certain about that, since he had lived as a Satanist all his adult life. And it ... er . . . did the job perfectly, didn't it?'

`Yes. I'm not questioning your act on ethical grounds or its efficiency. But the thing that troubles me is that someone else might have seen you do it. If they had you would be in prison now and well on your way to the scaffold. Really, Molly, it's time that you had somebody to look after you.'

`Meaning you, C. B.?'

He rubbed his big nose, then looked up at her. `Yes, dear one; meaning me.'

She came across and sat down on his knees. Suddenly she gulped. `It was a frightful thing to do, wasn't it?' Next moment she was crying, with her cheek pressed against his, and she murmured, `Oh, you're so right, darling! I'm a horrible irresponsible sort of woman. Please, please take care of me.'