Deliver us from Evil (7 page)

Captain Foxe reached out to touch Mr Webbe on the arm. 'The fault was with us both.'

'Then explain yourself. Captain.'

Captain Foxe met Mr Webbe's stare; he breathed in deeply. 'You will remember, sir,' he began, 'how at the end of the war,
I
and my men were ordered to Salisbury.'

'Naturally, for it was
I
who sent you there.'

Captain Foxe nodded; then he turned to Mr Aubrey, to explain to him. 'The armies of the King had been scattered - and yet their power to inflict mischief had not been utterly destroyed. It was therefore the responsibility of myself and my men to disarm those Cavaliers who were still at large, both in Salisbury and in the countryside surrounding the town. We duly arrived; and yet the rumours were so conflicting and confused that we could not be certain where to start our search. Then Sir Henry Vaughan, whom
I
had known from before the war, was brought unexpectedly before me, streaked with dust and gashed with wounds. He had always been a loyal partisan of the King, and had fought throughout the war in a unit of horse, Sir Charles Wolverton's regiment, in which he had served as the second-in-command. He had long sought to restrain the viciousness of his superior; but now, with the war ended, he had abandoned the attempt, for Wolverton's cruelty and rage had grown worse with defeat, and he and Sir Henry had at last come to blows. Sir Henry had escaped; and he urged me to pursue Wolverton at once, for he was afraid that his commander might be plotting some revenge.

'Sir Henry had fled Wolverton and his men by the London road, not far from Stonehenge and Wolverton Hall. Accordingly,
I
headed to the same place as fast as
I
could; Mr Webbe was with me, and twenty other troopers, all brave, good men. There was a trail, easily distinguished, leading across the Plain, and so we followed it at once; it took us, not surprisingly, to Wolverton Hall. We found the house deserted, however - and then suddenly, from the distance, we heard the muffled beating of a drum, and saw a plume of heavy smoke. It was rising from Woodton: my own village, and Sir Henry's.
I
felt a numb horror seize me, and my heart began to quicken with the rhythm of the drum, for the beat was sounding faster the closer
I
approached.
I
was riding forward as quietly as
I
could by now, for
I
had ordered my men to surround the village without being seen. But no one observed us - for the simple reason that no one was abroad who could have done. The approaches to Woodton were wholly empty; as were the outer limits of the village itself. We were thus soon in our positions in a circle round the square.

'That was where
I
found the villagers. They had been herded together in a panic-stricken huddle. A great bonfire was raging, and along either side of it gallows had been raised. Wolverton and his men were gathered on horseback by the fire; one of the horsemen was bearing the drum and, when it had reached its climax, Wolverton raised his hand and began to address the weeping crowd. He told them that they were accursed, that they and their village were to be utterly destroyed. In revenge for Sir Henry's betrayal, and for my own treachery towards the King, the men were to be hanged and the women condemned to the bonfire's flames. There were screams and cries of despair at these words, but Wolverton only closed his eyes and smiled, as though indulging himself in some profound pleasure which the terror of his victims was arousing in him. Those two whores first,' he cried, opening his eyes again and pointing towards the flames. Two women were dragged forward. They had refused to scream or plead for their lives, and so it was only when
I
saw their faces that
I
realised who they were. 'No!'
I
cried, galloping forward. 'No!' My men at once followed my lead; they burst from their hiding places and surrounded the startled Cavaliers, but
I
had no concern save to rescue my wife, to rescue her and Lady Vaughan from the threat of the flames. Mr Webbe rode to join me; and it was he who fought with Wolverton, who had crossed to prevent me from saving the women. The Cavalier guarding her and Lady Vaughan,
I
killed in my rage; Mr Webbe merely wounded his adversary. Wolverton was left in the mud, clutching at his side; and as we began the process of disarming his men,
I
was content to leave him there. It was my hope that, untreated, he might bleed to death.'

'But he did not,' said Colonel Sexton.

'No,' said Mr Webbe. He shook his head, still staring at the fire. 'He did not.'

'What did you do with him?'

'What we did with the others - stripped him of his arms and money.' Captain Foxe shrugged. 'Then Mr Webbe and
I
escorted him to the coast. There was a ship at Portsmouth, bound for the port of
Lü
beck in Germany; we put him aboard it, and paid his passage. There was no chance he could have slipped ashore again - his wound was very bad. And when he arrived in Germany, he would have been possessionless, moneyless, one of God's poor - those poor whom he had formerly despised so much.'

'And may yet,' said Mr Webbe, 'for our sins.'

There was a brief silence. Then Colonel Sexton suddenly scraped back his chair. 'No,' he said brusquely, as he rose to his feet. '
I
do not think so.'

Captain Foxe stared up at him angrily. 'You have no reason, sir, to doubt what we have said.'

'Not the facts you have given me; but the interpretation you have put upon them, yes, John,
I
do. For instance' - he began to pace across the floor - 'you have said that your son glimpsed Sir Charles' face, and then recognised it again when he saw a portrait of the man. But when would that portrait have been painted? Before the war, at the very least. Twenty years ago? Twenty-five, perhaps? Sir Charles, if he were indeed still alive, would be an old man by now.'

That is true,' said Mr Webbe slowly, as his face brightened. But Captain Foxe frowned, and shook his head. 'Then whom did my son see?' he asked. 'What other theory can you possibly have?'

'One which your own confession now makes certain.' Colonel Sexton reached inside his coat, and drew out a sheaf of papers. He dropped it on to the table. 'This is a deed of inheritance. It establishes the right of Edward Wolverton, son of the late Sir Charles, to those properties and lands held by his father, and left unconfiscate by Parliament.'

'But Edward Wolverton is dead.'

'It would seem not.'

Captain Foxe glanced at Mr Aubrey. 'But
..."
He swallowed, and turned to look up at the Colonel. '
I
found him.' he whispered violently. 'All of Wolverton's children -
I
found them. You remember, sir. They were dead, all dead.'

"Their remains were' - Colonel Sexton swallowed, and then he too lowered his voice - 'very much decayed.'

Mr Aubrey stirred uneasily, if you wish,' he said, half rising,
I
can leave

'No,
no,' said Colonel Sexton as brusquely as he could, 'we need not discuss this matter any further, for your own words, Captain, have established that Edward must surely be alive. These papers' - he held them aloft - 'were drafted in and sent to us from the city of Prague. That is why they were brought to my attention - it was felt that such an origin must brand them a definite fraud. But now, since we know that Sir Charles was in Germany after the war, and was clearly joined there by his son at least, we can be confident that the papers are genuine indeed.'

Silence, doubtful and uneasy, fell on the room.

'Who was it, then,' Captain Foxe asked at length, 'whom Robert saw, cloaked in black, with a face which seemed to be that of Sir Charles?'

'Why, John, it is obvious - Edward, his son.' Colonel Sexton brandished the papers. 'For we know he was planning to return to England.'

'But has anyone else seen him, apart from Robert?'

'No. He must be lying low. He has an agent, though, who has been very active for him.'

Caplain Foxe frowned.
'A
foreigner? Very pale, with a large, black beard?'

'You have seen him?'

'The man who bought the cart to transport the soil . . .' Captain Foxe had been speaking almost to himself; as his voice trailed away, so his frown deepened and he closed his eyes. He seemed to be rehearing an argument beneath his breath. Then suddenly, he clapped his hands together, and leaned back in his chair, it makes no difference, Sir Charles or Edward Wolverton - the man must be seized. He was seen heading towards Wolverton Hall. Where else can he be but skulking in its cellars?
I
need your permission, sir, to flush the rat out from its lair.'

Colonel Sexton shook his head. 'Edward Wolverton has done no wrong,'

'He has killed two people.'

'You have no evidence for that.'

'We have evidence of witchcraft.'

'But
I
repeat, Captain - none to connect it with Edward Wolverton.'

‘I
s he not his father's son?' Captain Foxe brought his fist crashing down; then he leaned across the table. 'Do
I
need to remind you, sir, of what we found in the cellars of Wolverton Hall? The books, the drawings, the , . .' - he swallowed - 'the
...
other . . . evidence
...
of
...
unspeakable rites?' He paused to control himself; then leaned back in his chair. 'Such a man,' he whispered, 'would pass down to his son not only the poison of evil in his blood, but also his teachings, his books, his hellish beliefs.'

Colonel Sexton sighed, and shook his head; but as he did so, Mr Aubrey lifted up his hand. 'If
I
may just add
...'
he said nervously.

'Yes?'

'These Wolvertons - they would have lived, you think, in the city of Prague?'

'Yes,' said Colonel Sexton impatiently, glancing down at the papers. 'What of it?'

'Prague is a most notorious place. A man raised there, especially by a father such as you paint Sir Charles to have been, would have had many opportunities to study the black arts.
I
know this, sir, because
I
have a book . . .' - he rose excitedly, and searched through his shelves - 'yes, here it is - here - just have a look at this
...'
He removed the book from its place, and smoothed out its pages. They were covered with a strange, hand-written script, which Mr Aubrey pointed to with pride. 'Incomprehensible!' he boasted. 'Utterly incomprehensible. A script which has defied my every effort to translate.'

Colonel Sexton shook his head in bemusement. 'But what has this to do with Prague?'

'Because' - Mr Aubrey took a deep breath - '
I
had this from my great-grandfather, Mr William Aubrey, who was the cousin and confidant of Dr John Dee - you have heard of him, no doubt? - the great astrologer to Queen Elizabeth? - who travelled to Prague - and brought many books back. You see, sir?' He pushed the book forward. 'It illustrates a woman in a bath of flowing blood . .

'Enough!'

'But it is proving my point, how in Prague . . .' '
I
have told you, sir - enough!'

Mr Aubrey fell into a reluctant silence. He stared reproachfully at Colonel Sexton, then reached for his books and placed them back on the shelf. No one spoke as he returned to the table. He opened his mouth once; then closed it again and sat hunched in his place.

Colonel Sexton sighed. He rubbed his eyes; then began to pace slowly up and down in front of the fire. '
I
should not be telling you
this’
he said at length, addressing Captain Foxe in a low, sombre voice. '
I
fear, though, it will be common knowledge all too soon enough.
The
Commonwealth is collapsing, John. Parliament, it is said, will shortly be dissolved. The army is preparing to march upon London.' He paused. The King waits in Holland to be restored to his throne.'

Captain Foxe shrugged. 'As he has been waiting these eleven years now.'

'Do not be naive.' Colonel Sexton rounded the table to meet his deputy's stare. 'You know full well what
I
mean. If the King is restored, John - then so are all his men.'

'That is not certain,' said Captain Foxe obstinately.

'No. But it is probable.'

'All the more reason, then, why we must act at once.'
I
cannot allow you into Wolverton Hall.' 'Why not, sir?' '
I
have told you.'