The Devil Rides Out ddr-6 Read online

  ‘And how old are you now, or is that a piece of rudeness?’

  ‘How old do you think?’

  ‘From your eyes you might be any age, but I’ve a feeling that you’re not much over twenty-two.’

  ‘If I were to live I should be twenty-four next January.’

  ‘Come now,’ he protested, laughingly, ‘what a way to put it, that’s only a matter of nine months and no one could say you don’t look healthy.’

  ‘I am,’ she assured him gravely, ‘but let us not talk of death. Look at the colour of those rhododendrons. They are so lovely.’

  ‘Yes, they’ve jerked this Park up no end since I first saw it as a boy.’ As the traffic opened he turned the car into Knightsbridge and two minutes later Tanith got out at the discreet door of her French dressmaker.

  While she was inside Rex considered the position afresh, and endeavoured to concoct some cryptic message purporting to come from the Duke, to the effect that she was not to attend the Sabbat but to remain in his care until it was over. Yet he felt that she would never believe him. It was quite evident that she meant to be present at this unholy Walpurgis-Nacht gathering and from what the old woman had said all Satanists regarded it with such importance that even warring factions among them sank their differences—for this one night of the year—in order to attend.

  Obviously she could have no conception of what she was letting herself in for, but the very idea of her being mishandled by that ungodly crew made his big biceps tighten with the desire to lash out at someone. He had got to keep her with him somehow, that was clear—but how?

  He racked his mind in vain for a plausible story but, to his dismay, she rejoined him almost immediately and he had thought of nothing by the time they had turned into the Park again.

  ‘Well—tell me,’ she said softly.

  ‘Tell you what?’ he fenced, ‘that I think you’re very lovely.’

  ‘No, no. It is nice that you should have troubled to make pretty speeches about my accent and Marlene Dietrich, but it is time for you to tell me now of the real reason that brought you to Claridges this morning.’

  ‘Can’t you guess?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I wanted to take you out to lunch.’

  ‘Oh, please! Be serious — you have a message for me.’

  ‘Maybe, but even if I hadn’t, I’d have been right on the mat at your hotel just the same.’

  She frowned slightly. ‘I don’t understand. Neither of us is free to give our time to that sort of thing.’

  ‘I’ve reached a stage where I’m the best judge of that,’ he announced, with the idea of trying to recover some of the prestige which seemed to be slipping from him.

  ‘Have you then crowned yourself with the Dispersion of Choronzon already?’

  Rex suppressed a groan. Here they were off on the Mumbo Jumbo stuff again. He felt that he would never be able to keep it up, so instead of answering he turned the car with sudden determination out into the Kensington Road and headed towards Hammersmith.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked quickly.

  ‘To lunch with De Richleau,’ he lied. ‘I’ve got no message for you but the Duke sent me to fetch you because he wants to talk to you himself.’ It was the only story he could think of which just might get over.

  ‘I see—where is he?’

  ‘At Pangbourne.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘Little place down the Thames—just past Reading.’

  ‘But that is miles away!’

  ‘Only about fifty.’

  ‘Surely he could have seen me before he left London.’

  He caught her eyes, quick with suspicion, on his face, so he answered boldly : ‘I know nothing of that, but he sent me to fetch you—and what the Duke says goes.’

  ‘I don’t believe you!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘Stop this car at once! — I am going to get out.’

  CHAPTER XI

  THE TRUTH WILL ALWAYS OUT

  For a second Rex thought of ignoring her protest and jamming ‘his foot on the accelerator, but the traffic in Kensington High Street was thick, and to try to abduct her in broad daylight would be sheer madness. She could signal a policeman and have him stopped before he’d gone two hundred yards.

  Reluctantly he drew in to the side of the road, but he stretched his long arm in front of her and gripped the door of the car so that she could not force it open.

  Tanith stared at him with angry eyes: ‘You are lying to me — I will not go with you.’

  ‘Wait a moment.’ He thrust out his chin pugnaciously while he mustered all his resources to reason with her. If he once let her leave the car the chances were all against his having another opportunity to prevent her reaching the secret rendezvous where those horrible Walpurgis ceremonies would take place in the coming night. His determination to prevent her participating in those barbaric rites, of which he was certain she could not know the real nature, quickened his brain to an unusual cunning : ‘You know what happened to Simon Aron?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, you kidnapped him from his home last night.’

  ‘That’s so—but do you know why?’

  ‘Madame D’Urfe said that it was because the Duke is also seeking for the Talisman of Set. You needed him for your own invocation.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Rex paused for a moment to wonder what the Talisman could be. This was the second time he had heard it mentioned. Then he went on slowly: ‘It’s him being born under certain stars makes his presence essential. We’d hunt for years before we found anyone else who’s suitable to do the business and born in the same hour of the same day and year. Well, we need you too.’

  ‘But my number is not eight!’

  ‘That doesn’t matter—you’re under the Moon, aren’t you?’

  He risked the shot on what he remembered of De Richleau’s words about her name.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘But what has that to do with it?’

  ‘A whole heap—believe you me. But naturally you’d know nothing of that. Even Mocata doesn’t realise the importance of the Moon in this thing and that’s why he’s failed to make much headway up to date.’

  ‘Mocata would be furious if I left his Circle—you see I am his favourite medium—so attuned to his vibrations that he would have the greatest difficulty in replacing me. Perhaps—perhaps he would punish me in some terrible manner.’ Tanith’s face had gone white and her eyes were staring slightly at the thought of some nameless evil which might befall her.

  ‘Don’t worry. De Richleau will protect you—and he’s an Ipsissimus remember. If you don’t come right along, now he wants to see you, maybe he’ll do something to you that’ll be far worse.’ As Rex lied and threatened he hated himself for it, but the girl had just got to be saved from herself and this form of blackmail was the only line that offered.

  ‘How am I to know? How am I to know?’ she repeated quickly. You may be lying. Think what might happen to me if Mocata proved the stronger.’

  You had the proof last night. We got Simon Aron away from under his very nose—didn’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but will you be able to keep him?’

  ‘Sure,’ Rex declared firmly, but he felt sick with misery as he remembered that by Mocata’s power Simon had been taken from them under the hour. And where was Simon now? The day was passing, their hope of Tanith being able to put them on his track had proved a failure. How would they find him in time to save him too from the abominations of the coming night.

  ‘Oh, what shall I do?’ Tanith gave a little nervous sob. ‘It is the first time I have heard of any feud in our Order. I thought that if I only followed the Path I should acquire power and now this hideously dangerous decision is thrust on me.’

  Rex saw that she was weakening so he pressed the self-starter. ‘You’re coming with me and you’re not going to be frightened of anything. Get that now—I mean it.’

  She nodded: ‘All right. I will trust you then,’ and the car slid into motion.

  For a few m
oments they sat in silence, then as the car entered Hammersmith Broadway he turned and smiled at her. ‘Now let’s cut out all talk about this business till we see the Duke and just be normal — shall we?’

  ‘If you wish—tell me about yourself?’

  He smothered a sigh of relief at her acquiescence. At least he would be free for an hour or so from the agonising necessity of skating on the thin ice of grim parables which had no meaning for him. With all his natural gaiety restored he launched into an account of his life at home in the States, his frequent journeys abroad, and his love of speed in cars and boats and planes and bob-sleighs.

  As they sped through Brentford and on to Slough he got her to talk a little about herself. Her English father had died when she was still a baby and the Hungarian mother had brought her up. All her childhood had been spent in an old manor house, dignified by the name of Castle, in a remote village on the southern slopes of the Carpathians, shut in so completely from the world by steep mountains on every side that even the War had passed it by almost unnoticed. After the peace and the disintegration of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire their lands had become part of the new state of Jugo-Slavia, but her life had gone on much the same for, although the War had cost them a portion of their fortune, the bulk of it had been left safe by her father in English Trustee securities. Her mother had died three years before and it was then, having no personal ties and ample money, that she had decided to travel.

  ‘Isn’t it just marvellous that I should have seen you in such different places about the world,’ he laughed.

  ‘The first time that you speak of in Budapest I do not remember,’ she replied, ‘but I recall the day outside Buenos Ayres well. You were in a long red car and I was riding a roan mare. As you drew into the side of the track to let us pass I wondered why I knew your face, and then I remembered quite clearly that our cars had been locked side by side in a traffic jam, months before, in New York.’

  ‘Seems as if we were just fated to meet some time — doesn’t it?’

  ‘We both know that there is no such thing as Chance,’ she said slowly. ‘I believe you have a wax image of me somewhere and have worked upon it to bring today about.’

  The day before he would have instantly assumed her to be joking, despite her apparent seriousness, but now, he realised with a little shock, he no longer considered it beyond the bounds of possibility that actual results might be procured by doing certain curious things to a little waxen doll, so greatly had his recent experiences altered his outlook. He hesitated, unable to confess his ignorance of such practices, and unwilling to admit that he had not done his best to bring about a meeting, but he was saved from the necessity of a reply by Tanith suddenly exclaiming:

  ‘I had forgotten!—luncheon—I shall never be back in time.’

  ‘Easy, put through a call and say you’ve suddenly been called out of Town,’ he told her, and a few miles further on he pulled up at Skindles Hotel in Maidenhead.

  While Tanith was telephoning he stood contemplating the river. Although it was early in the year a period of drought had already checked the spate of the current sufficiently to make boating pleasurable, and he noted that in the gardens of the Hungaria River Club, on the opposite bank, they were setting out their gay paraphernalia preparatory to opening for the Season. Immediately Tanith rejoined him they set off again.

  The straggling suburbs of Greater London had already been left behind them before Slough and now, after Maidenhead, the scattered clusters of red-roofed dwellings on the new building estates, which have spread so far afield, also disappeared, giving place to the real country. On certain portions of the road, the fresh green of the beech trees formed a spring canopy overhead and between their trunks, dappled with sunlight, patches of bluebells gave glory to the silent woods; at others they ran between meadows where lazy cattle nibbled the new grass, or fields where the young corn, strong with life, stretched its vivid green shoots upwards to the sun.

  The sight and smell of the countryside, unmarred by man or carefully tended in his interests, windswept and clean, gave Rex fresh confidence. He banished his anxiety about Simon for the moment and, thrusting from his mind all thoughts of this gruesome business into which he had been drawn, began to talk all the gay nonsense to Tanith which he would have aired to any other girl whom he had induced to steal a day out of London in which to see the country preparing its May Day garb.

  Before they reached Reading he had her laughing, and by the time they entered the little riverside village of Pangbourne, her pale face was flushed with colour and her eyes dancing with new light.

  They crossed to the Whitchurch side where the Duke’s house stood, some way back from the river, its lawns sloping gently to the water’s edge.

  Max received them, and while a maid took Tanith upstairs to wash, Rex had a chance to whisper quick instructions to him.

  When she entered the low, old-fashioned lounge with its wide windows looking out over the tulip beds to the trees on the farther bank she found Rex whistling gaily. He was shooting varying proportions of liquor out of different bottles into a cocktail shaker. Max stood beside him holding a bowl of ice.

  ‘Where is the Duke?’ she asked, with a new soberness in her voice.

  He had been waiting for the question and keeping his face averted answered cheerfully : ‘He’s not made it yet—what time are you expecting him, Max?’

  ‘I should have told you before, sir. His Excellency telephoned that I was to present his excuses to the lady, and ask you, sir, to act as host in his stead. He has been unavoidably detained, but hopes to be able to join you for tea.’

  ‘Well, now, if that isn’t real bad luck!’ Rex exclaimed feelingly. ‘Never mind we’ll go right into lunch the moment it’s ready.’ He tasted the concoction which he had been beating up with a large spoon and added: ‘My! That’s good!’

  ‘Yes, sir—in about five minutes, sir,’ Max bowed gravely and withdrew.

  Rex knew that there was trouble coming but he presented a glass of the frothing liquid with a steady hand. ‘Never give a girl a large cocktail,’ he cried gaily, ‘but plenty of ‘em. Make ‘em strong and drink ‘em quick—come on now! It takes a fourth to make an appetite…. Here’s to crime!’

  But Tanith set down the glass untasted. All the merriment had died out of her eyes and her voice was full of fresh anxiety as she said urgently: ‘I can’t stay here till tea-time—don’t you realise that I must leave London by four o’clock?’

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say, ‘Where is this place you’re going to?’ but he caught himself in time and substituted, ‘Why not go from here direct?’ then he prayed silently that the secret meeting place might not be on the other side of London.

  Her face lightened for a moment. ‘Of course, I forgot that you were going yourself, and the journey must be so much shorter from here, if you could take me it seems stupid to go all the way back to London—but what of Madame D’Urfe—she expects me to motor down with her—and I must have my clothes.’

  ‘Why not call her on the phone. Ask her to have your stuff packed up and say we’ll meet her there. You’ve got to see the Duke, and whatever happens he’ll turn up here because he and I are going down together.’

  She nodded. ‘If I am to place myself under his protection it is vital that I should see him before the meeting, for Mocata has eyes in the ether and will know that I am here by now.’

  ‘Come on then!’ He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘We’ll get through to Claridges right away.’

  Tanith allowed him to lead her out into the hall and when he had got the number he left her at the telephone. Then he returned to the lounge, poured himself another cocktail and began to do a gay little dance to celebrate his victory. He felt that he had got her now, safe for the day, until the Duke turned up. Then trust De Richleau to get something out of her which would enable them to get on Simon’s track after all.

  At his sixth pirouette he stopped suddenly. Tanith was standing in the doorway
her face ashen, her big eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and fear.

  ‘You have lied to me,’ she stammered out, ‘Mocata is with the Countess at this moment—he got Simon Aron away from you last night. You and your precious Duke are impostors—charlatans. You haven’t even the power to protect yourselves, and for this Mocata may tie me to the Wheel of Ptah–– Oh, I must get back!’ Before he could stop her she had turned and fled out of the house.

  CHAPTER XII

  THE GRIM PROPHECY

  In one spring Rex was across the room, another and he had reached the garden. Against those long legs of his Tanith had no chance. Before she had covered twenty yards he caught her arm and jerked her round to face him.

  ‘Let me go!’ she panted. ‘Haven’t you endangered me enough with your lies and interference.’

  He smiled down into her frightened face but made no mention to release her. ‘I’m awfully sorry I had to tell you all those tarradiddles to get you to this place—but now you’re here you’re going to stay– Understand?’

  ‘It is you who don’t understand,’ she flashed. ‘You and your friend, the Duke, are like a couple of children playing with a dynamite bomb. You haven’t a chance against Mocata. He will loose a power on you that will simply blot you out.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too certain of that. Maybe I know nothing of this occult business myself and if anyone had suggested to me that there were practising Satanists wandering around London this time last week, I’d have said they had bats in the belfry. But the Duke’s different—and, believe you me, he’s a holy terror when he once gets his teeth into a thing. Best save your pity for Mocata —he’ll need it before De Richleau’s through with him.’

  ‘Is he—is he really an Ipsissimus then?’ she hesitated.

  ‘Lord knows—I don’t. That’s just a word I picked out of some jargon he was talking last night that I thought might impress you.’ Rex grinned broadly. All the lying and trickery which he had been forced to practise during the morning had taxed him to the utmost, but now that he was able to face the situation openly he felt at the top of his form again.