The Devil Rides Out (11 page)

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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‘In some ways I suffer the disappointment,' said the old Countess suddenly, and Rex found her studying him with a strange, disconcerting look. ‘I know well that promiscuity gives a great power for all 'oo follow the Path an' that 'uman love 'inders our development, but nevair 'ave I been able to free myself from a so stupid sentimentality–an' you would, I think, 'ave made a good lover for 'er.'

Rex stared in astonished silence, then looked quickly away, as she added: ‘No matter–the other ees of real importance. I will send for 'er that you may give your message.'

With a little jerk she stood up and, gripping her ebony cane, stumped across to the hall porter's desk while he relaxed, unutterably glad that this extraordinary interview was over.

However, he felt a glow of satisfaction in the thought that he had duped her into the belief that De Richleau and himself were even more powerful adepts than Mocata, and at having played his cards sufficiently well to secure a meeting with Tanith under such favourable circumstances. If only he could get her into his car, he was determined to inveigle her into giving him any information she possessed which might lead to the discovery of Simon's whereabouts, although, since Madame D'Urfé was ignorant of the fact that he was no longer with the Duke, it was hardly likely that Tanith would actually be able to take them to him.

With new anxiety Rex realised the gravity of the check. They had practically counted on Tanith having the knowledge, if only they could get it out of her, and even if he could persuade her to talk about Mocata the man might have a dozen haunts. If so it would be no easy task to visit all before sundown and the urgency of the Duke's instructions still rang in his ears.

Today was May Day Eve. The Great Sabbat of the year would be held
tonight. It was absolutely imperative that they should trace and secure Simon before dusk or else, under the evil influence which now dominated his mentality, he would be taken to participate in those unholy rites and jeopardise for ever the flame of goodness, wisdom and right thinking which men term the soul.

After a moment Madame D'Urfé rejoined him. ‘For tonight at least,' she whispered, ‘things in dispute between the followers of the Path will be in abeyance, is it not? For all must make their 'omage to the One.'

He nodded and she bent towards him, lowering her voice still further: ‘If I could but see De Richleau for one moment–as Ipsissimus 'e must possess the unguent?'

‘That's so,' Rex agreed, but he was horribly uncertain of his ground again as he added cryptically: ‘But what of the Moon?'

‘Ah, fatality,' she sighed. ‘I 'ad forgotten that we are in the dark quarter.'

He blessed the providence which had guided his tongue as she went on sadly: ‘I 'ave try so often but nevair yet 'ave I succeeded. I know all things necessary to its preparation, an' 'ave gathered every 'erb at the right period. I 'ave even rendered down the fat, but they must 'ave cheated me. It was from a mortuary per'aps–but not from a graveyard as it should ‘ave been.'

Rex felt the hair bristle on the back of his neck and his whole body stiffened slightly as he heard this gruesome confession. Surely it was inconceivable that people still practised these medieval barbarities, yet he recalled the terrible manifestation that he had witnessed with the Duke on the previous night. After that he could no longer employ modern standards of belief or unbelief to the possibilities which might result from the strange and horrible doings of these people who had given themselves over to ancient cults.

The old Countess was regarding him again with that disconcerting look. ‘It matters not,' she murmured. ‘We shall get there just the same, Tanith and I, an' it should be interesting gfor nevair before 'as she attended the Great Sabbat.'

The lift gates clicked at that moment and Tanith stepped out into the corridor. For a fleeting instant Rex caught a glimpse of her wise, beautiful face, over the old woman's shoulder, but the Countess was speaking again in a husky whisper, so he was forced to look back at her.

‘Nevair before,' she repeated with unholy glee, ‘and after the One 'as done that which there is to do, ‘oo knows but you may be the next–if you are quick.'

Forcing himself out of his chair Rex shut his ears to the infernal implication. His general reading had been enough for him to be aware that in the old days the most incredible orgies took place as the climax to every Sabbat, and his whole body crept at the thought of Tanith being subjected to such abominations. His impulse was to seize this iniquitous old woman by the throat and choke the bestial life out of her fat body, but with a supreme effort he schooled himself to remain outwardly normal.

As Tanith approached, and taking his hand smiled into his eyes, he knew that she, as well as Simon, must be saved before nightfall from–yes, the old biblical quotation leapt to his mind–‘The Power of the Dog,' that was strong upon them.

10
Tanith Proves Stubborn

After the muttering of the old Countess and her veiled allusions to unspeakable depravities, Rex felt that even the air had grown stale and heavy, as though charged with some subtle quality of evil, but on the coming of Tanith the atmosphere seemed to lighten. The morning sunshine was lending a pale golden glow to the street outside and in her hand she held one of the sprays of lilac which he had sent up to her. She lifted it to her face as he returned her smile. ‘So!' she said in a low clear voice, her eyes mocking him above the fragrant bloom: ‘You insisted then that Madame should let you see me?'

‘I'd have sat around this place all day if she hadn't,' Rex confessed frankly, ‘because now we've met at last I'm hoping you'll let me see something of you.'

‘Perhaps–but not today. I have many things to do and already I am late for the dressmaker.'

Rex thanked his stars that the old woman had unwittingly given him a lever in assuming the Duke to be an Adept of great power, and himself his envoy. ‘It's mighty important that I should see you today,' he insisted. ‘There are certain things we've got to talk about.'

‘Got to!' A quick frown clouded Tanith's face. ‘I do not understand!'

‘
Ma petite,
it is you 'oo do not understan',' Madame D'Urfé broke in hastily. The she launched into a torrent of low speech in some foreign language, but Rex caught De Richleau's name and the word Ipsissimus, so he guessed that she was giving Tanith some version of the events which had taken place the night before, based on his own misleading statements, and wondered miserably how long he would be able to keep up the impersonation which had been thrust upon him.

Tanith nodded several times and studied him with a new interest as she nibbled a small piece of the lilac blossom between her teeth. Then she said with charming frankness: ‘You must forgive me– I had no idea you were such an important member of the Order.'

‘Forget it please,' he begged, ‘but if you're free I'd be glad if you could join me for lunch.'

‘That puts me in a difficulty because I am supposed to be lunching with the wife of the Roumanian Minister.'

‘How about this afternoon then?'

Her eyes showed quick surprise. ‘But we shall have to leave here by four o'clock if we are to get down by dusk–and I have my packing to do yet.'

He realised that she was referring to the meeting and covered his blunder swiftly. ‘Of course, I'm always forgetting that these twisting English roads don't permit of the fast driving I'm used to back home. How would it be if I run you along to your dress place now and then we took a turn round the Park after?'

‘Yes, if you will have lots of patience with me, because I take an almost idiotic interest in my clothes.'

‘You're telling me!' he murmured to himself as he admired the slim graceful lines of her figure clad so unostentatiously and yet so suitably for the sunshine of the bright spring day. He picked up his hat and beamed at her. ‘Let's go, shall we?'

To his amazement he found himself taking leave of the old Countess just as though she were a nice, normal, elderly lady who was chaperoning some young woman to whom he had been formally introduced at a highly respectable dance. And indeed, as they departed, her dark eyes had precisely the same look which had often scared him in mothers who possessed marriageable daughters. Had he not known that such thoughts were anathema to her creed he would have sworn that she was praying that they would be quick about it, so that she could book a day before the end of the season at St George's, Hanover Square, and was already listing in her mind the guests who should be asked to the reception.

‘Where does the great artist hang out?' he asked as he helped Tanith into the car.

‘I have two,' she told him. ‘Schiaparelli just across the square, where I shall be for some twenty minutes, and after I have also to visit Artelle in Knightsbridge—Are you sure that you do not mind waiting for me?'

‘Why, no! We've a whole heap of time before us.'

‘And tonight as well,' she added slowly. ‘I am glad that you will be there because I am just a little nervous.'

‘You needn't be!' he said with a sudden tightening of his mouth, but she seemed satisfied with his assurance and had no inkling of his real meaning.

As she alighted in Upper Grosvenor Street he called gaily after her: ‘Twenty minutes mind, and not one fraction over,' then he drove across the road and pulled up at the International Sportsman's Club of which he was a member.

The telephone exchange put him through to the British Museum quickly enough, but the operator there nearly drove him frantic. It seemed that it was not part of the Museum staff's duties to search for visitors in the Reading Room, but after urgent prayers about imaginary dead and dying they at last consented to have the Duke hunted out. The wait that followed seemed interminable but at last De Richleau came to the line.

‘I've got the girl,' Rex told him hurriedly, ‘but how long I'll be able to keep her I don't know. I've had a long talk, too, with the incredible old woman who smokes cigars–you know the one–Madame D'Urfé. They're staying at Claridges together and both of them are going to the party you spoke of tonight. Where it's to be held I don't know, but they're leaving London by car at four o'clock and hope to make the place by nightfall. I've spun them a yarn that you're the high and mighty Hoodoo in the you-know-what, a bigger bug than Mocata ever was, so the old lady's all for giving him the go-by and sitting in round about your feet, but neither of them knows where Simon is, I'm certain. In fact they've no idea that he made a getaway last night after we got him to your flat, so what's the drill now?'

‘I see–well, in that case you must …' but Rex never learnt what De Richleau intended him to do for at that moment they were cut off. When he got through to the Museum again it was to break in on a learned conversation about South American antiques which was being conducted on another line
and, realising that he had already exceeded his twenty minutes, he had no option but to hang up the receiver and dash out into the street.

Tanith was just coming down the steps of Schiaparelli's as he turned the car to meet her. ‘Where now?' he asked when she had settled herself beside him.

‘To Artelle. It is just opposite the barracks in Knightsbridge. I will not be more than five minutes this time, but she has a new idea for me. She is really a very clever woman, so I am anxious to hear what she has thought of.'

It was the longest speech he had so far heard her make, as their conversation the night before had been brief and frequently interrupted by Mocata. Her idiom was perfect, but the way in which she selected her words and the care with which she pronounced them made him ask suddenly. ‘You're not English, are you?'

‘Yes,' she smiled as they turned into Hyde Park, ‘but my mother was Hungarian and I have lived abroad nearly all my life. Is my accent very noticeable?'

‘Well, in a way, but it sounds just marvellous to me. Your voice has got that deep caressing note about it which reminds me of, well, if you want the truth, it's like Marlene Dietrich on the talkies.'

She threw back her head and gave a low laugh. ‘If I believed that I should be tempted to keep it, and as it is I have been working so hard to get rid of it ever since I have been in England. It is absurd that I should not be able to speak my own language perfectly–yet I have talked English so little, except to foreign governesses when I was a young girl.'

‘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, laughing, ‘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 all 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.

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