was a very handsome bathroom  some
fifteen  feet by twelve; black glass, crystal mirrors, and chromium-
plated fittings made up the scheme of decoration.
  Some  people might have considered it a little too striking to  be
in  perfect  taste, but De Richleau did not subscribe to  the  canon
which  has  branded  ostentation  as  vulgarity  in  the  last   few
generations, and robbed nobility of any glamour which  it  may  have
possessed in more spacious days.
  His  forbears had ridden with thirty-two footmen before them,  and
it  caused  him considerable regret that modern conditions  made  it
impossible  for him to drive in his Hispano with no  more  than  one
seated  beside  his chauffeur on the box. Fortunately his  resources
were considerable and his brain sufficiently astute to make good, in
most  years,  the  inroads which the tax gatherers made  upon  them.
'After him,' of course 'the Deluge' as he very fully recognised, but
with  reasonable  good fortune he considered that private  ownership
would  last out his time, at least in England where he had made  his
home; and so he continued to do all things on a scale suitable to  a
De  Richleau, with the additional lavishness of one who  had  had  a
Russian  mother,  as  far as the restrictions  of  twentieth-century
democracy would allow.
  Rex,  however,  had used the Duke's ?1,000 bathroom  a  number  of
times  before,  and  his only concern at the moment  was  to  wonder
vaguely what he was doing there on this occasion and why he had such
an appalling hangover. Never, since he had been given two glasses of
bad  liquor  in  the  old  days  when  his  country  laboured  under
prohibition, had he felt so desperately ill.
  A  giant  sponge placed on the top of his curly head  brought  him
temporary  relief  and full consciousness of the  events  which  had
taken  place  the  night  before. Of  course  it  was  that  ghastly
experience  he  had  been through in Simon's empty  house  that  had
sapped  him of his vitality and left him in this wretched state.  He
remembered  that  he had kept up all right until they  got  back  to
Curzon  Street, and even after, during a long conversation with  the
Duke; then, he supposed, he must have petered out from sheer nervous
exhaustion.
  He  lay  back in the warm, faintly scented water, and gave himself
a  mental shaking. The thought that he must have fainted shocked him
profoundly. He had driven racing cars at 200 miles an hour, had  his
colours for the Cresta run, had flown a plane 1,500 miles, right out
of  the Forbidden Territory down to Kiev in one hop. He had shot men
and  been shot at in return both in Russia and in Cuba, where he had
found himself mixed up with the Revolution, but never before had  he
been in a real funk about anything, much less collapsed like a spine
less fool.
  He  recalled  with  sickening vividness, that loathsome,  striking
manifestation  of  embodied evil that had come upon  them-  and  his
thoughts flew to Simon. How could their shy nervous, charming friend
have got himself mixed up in all this devilry? For Rex had no doubts
now that, incredible as it might seem, the Duke was right, and Satan
worship  still a living force in modern cities, just as the infernal
Voodoo  cult  was  still secretly practised by the  Negroes  in  the
Southern States of his own country. He thought again of their  first
visit to Simon's house as unwelcome guests at that strange party. Of
the Albino, the old Countess D'Urfe, the sinister Chinaman, and then
of Tanith, except for Simon the only normal person present, and felt
convinced  that,  but  for  the intervention  of  De  Richleau  some
abominable  ceremony would certainly have taken place,  although  he
had laughed at the suggestion at the time.
  Sitting  up he began to soap himself vigorously while he  restated
the  situation briefly in his mind. One: Mocata was an adept of what
De  Richleau called the Left Hand Path, and for some reason  unknown
he  had  gained control over Simon. Two: owing to their intervention
the  Satanists  had abandoned Simon's house-taking  him  with  them.
Three:  Simon was shortly to be baptised into the Black Brotherhood,
after which, according to the Duke, he would be past all help. Four:
today  was May Day Eve when, according to the Duke, the Grind Sabbat
of  the year took place. Five: following from four, it was almost  a
certainty  that Mocata would seize this opportunity of the Walpurgis
Nacht  celebrations to have Simon re-christened. Six:  in  the  next
twelve hours therefore, Mocata had to be traced and Simon taken from
him. Seven: the only possibility of getting on Mocata's trail lay in
obtaining information by prayers, cajolery, or threats from Tanith.
  Rex  stopped soaping and groaned aloud at the thought that the one
woman  he had been wanting to meet for years should be mixed  up  in
this  revolting  business.  He loathed deception  in  any  form  and
resented  intensely the necessity for practising it on her,  but  De
Richleau's  last instructions to him were still clear in  his  mind,
and the one thing which stood out above all others, was the fact  of
his  old  and  clear  friend being in some intangible  but  terrible
peril.
  Feeling slightly better by the time he had shaved and dressed,  he
noted  from  the  windows of the flat that at least  they  had  been
blessed with a glorious day. Summer was in the air and there  seemed
a promise of that lovely fortnight which sometimes graces England in
early May.
  To  his surprise he found that De Richleau, who habitually was not
visible  before  twelve,  had  left the  fiat  at  half-past  eight.
Evidently  he  meant  to  put  in  a  long  day  among  the  ancient
manuscripts  at  the  British Museum, rubbing up  his  knowledge  of
strange cults and protective measures against what he termed the Ab-
human monsters of the Outer Circle.
  Max  proffered breakfast, but Rex declined it until, with  a  hurt
expression, the servant produced his favourite omelet.
  'The chef will be so disappointed, sir,' he said.
  Reluctantly  Rex sat down to eat while Max, busy with the  coffee-
pot,  permitted himself a hidden smile. He had had orders  from  the
Duke, and His Excellency was a wily man. None knew that better  than
his personal servitor, the faithful Max.
  Noting  that  Rex had finished, he produced a wine-glass  full  of
some  frothy  mixture on a salver. 'His Excellency  said,  sir.'  he
stated blandly, 'that he finds this uncommon good for his neuralgia.
I  was distressed to hear that you are sometimes a sufferer too, and
if   you'd   try   it  the  taste  is,  if  I  may   say   so,   not
unpleasant-somewhat resembling that of granadillas I believe.'
  With  a suspicious look Rex drank the quite palatable potion while
Max added suavely: 'Some gentleman prefer prairie-oysters I am told,
but I've a feeling, sir, that His Excellency knows best.'
  'You  old  humbug.' Rex grinned as he replaced the glass.  'Anyhow
last  night wasn't the sort of party you think-I wish to God it  had
been.'
  'No,  sir!  Well, that's most regrettable I'm sure, but  I  had  a
feeling that Mr. Aron was not quite in his usual form, if I  may  so
express it-when he er-joined us after dinner.'
  'Yes-of course you put Simon to bed-I'd forgotten that.'
  Max  quickly  lowered  his eyes. He was  quite  certain  that  his
innocent action the night before had been connected in some way with
Simon  Aron's sudden disappearance from the bedroom later, and  felt
that  for once he had done the wrong thing, so he deftly turned  the
conversation. 'His Excellency instructed me to tell you,  sir,  that
the  touring  Rolls  is  entirely at your disposal  and  the  second
chauffeur if you wish to use him.'
  'No-I'll  drive  myself; have it brought round  right  away-  will
you?'
  'Very  good,  sir, and now if you will excuse me I must  leave  at
once  in  order to get down to Pangbourne and prepare the house  for
your reception.'
  'O.K.,  Max-See-yer-later-I hope.' Rex picked up a  cigarette.  He
was feeling better already. 'A whole heap better,' he thought, as he
wondered what potent corpse-reviver lay hidden in the creamy  depths
of De Richleau's so-called neuralgia tonic. Then he sat down to plan
out his line of attack on the lady at Claridges.
  If  he  could only talk to her he felt that he would  be  able  to
intrigue  her into a friendly attitude. He could, of course,  easily
find  out  her real name from the bureau of the hotel, but the  snag
was  that  if  he sent up his name and asked to see her the  chances
were  all  against  her  granting him an interview.  After  all,  by
kidnapping  Simon, he and the Duke had wrecked the  meeting  of  her
Circle the night before, and if she was at all intimately associated
with  Mocata, she probably regarded him with considerable hostility.
Only  personal contact could overcome that, so he must not risk  any
rebuff through the medium of bell-hops, but accept it only if  given
by her after he had managed to see her face to face.
  His  plan,  therefore,  eventually  boiled  down  to  marching  on
Claridges,  planting himself in a comfortable chair within  view  of
the  lifts  and  sitting there until Tanith made her appearance.  He
admitted  to  himself that his proposed campaign  was  conspicuously
lacking in brilliance but, he argued, few women staying in a  London
hotel  would remain in their rooms all day, so if he sat there  long
enough it was almost certain that an opportunity would occur for him
to  tackle  her direct. If she did turn him down-well,  De  Richleau
wasn't  the only person in the world who had ideas-and Rex flattered
himself that he would think of something.
  Immediately the Rolls was reported at the door, he left  the  flat
and  drove  round  to Claridges in it. A short conversation  with  a
friendly  commissionaire ensured that there would be no  trouble  if
the  car was left parked outside, even for a considerable time,  for
Rex  thought  it necessary to have it close at hand since  he  might
need it at any moment.
  As  he  entered the hotel from the Davies Street entrance he noted
with  relief  that it was only a little after ten. It  was  unlikely
that Tanith would have gone out for the day so early, and he settled
himself  to wait for an indefinite period with cheerful optimism  in
the  almost  empty lounge. After a moment it occurred  to  him  that
somebody  might come up to him and inquire his business  if  he  was
forced  to  stay  there for any length of time, but an  underporter,
passing  at  the moment, gave him a swift smile and  little  bow  of
recognition,  so  he  trusted  that having  been  identified  as  an
occasional client of the place he would not be unduly molested.
  He  began  to  consider what words he should  use  if,  and  when,
Tanith  did step out of the lifts, and had just decided on a formula
which   contained  the  requisite  proportions  of  respect,  subtle
admiration,  and  gaiety when a small boy in buttons  came  marching
with a carefree swing down the corridor.
  'Mister  Vine  Rine-Mister Vine Rine,' he chanted in a  monotonous
treble.
  Rex  looked  at  the  boy  suspiciously. The  sound  had  a  queer
resemblance to the parody of his own name as he had often  heard  it
shrilled  out by bell-hops in clubs and hotel lounges.  Yet  no  one
could   possibly  be  aware  of  his  presence  at  Claridges   that
morning-except, of course, the Duke. At the thought that De Richleau
might  be  endeavouring to get in touch with  him  for  some  urgent
reason  he  turned,  and  at the same moment  the  page  sidetracked
towards him.
  'Mr. Van Ryn, sir?' he inquired, dropping into normal speech.
  'Yes.' Rex nodded.
  Then  to  his  utter  astonishment the boy  announced:  'The  lady
you've  called  to  see sent down to say she's  sorry  to  keep  you
waiting, but she'll join you in about fifteen minutes.'
  With  his  mouth  slightly open Rex stared stupidly  at  the  page
until  that  infant turned and strutted away. He did not doubt  that
the  message came from Tanith-who else could have sent it,  yet  how
the  deuce did she know that he was there? Perhaps she had seen  him
drive   up   from  her  window  -that  seemed  the  only  reasonable
explanation. Anyhow that 'she was sorry to keep him waiting' sounded
almost too good to be true.
  Recovering  a  little he stood up, marched out into  Brook  Street
and  purchased a great sheaf of lilac from a florist's a  few  doors
down.  Returning with it to the hotel he suddenly realised  that  he
still did not know Tanith's real name, but catching sight of the boy
who had paged him, he beckoned him over.
  'Here  boy-take  these up to the lady's room with  Mr.  Van  Ryn's
compliments.'  Then  he resumed his seat near the  lift  with  happy
confidence.
  Five  minutes later the lift opened. An elderly woman leaning upon
a  tall  ebony cane stepped out. At the first glance Rex  recognised
the  parrot-peaked nose, the nut-cracker chin and the piercing black
eyes  of the old Countess D'Urfe. Before he had time to collect  his
wits she had advanced upon him and extended a plump, beringed hand.
  'Monsieur  Van Ryn,' she croaked. 'It is charming that you  should
call upon me-sank you a thousand times for those lovely flowers.'


                                  9

          The Countess D'Urfe Talks of Many Curious Things

  'Ha! ha!-not a bit of it-it's great to see you again.'
  Rex  gave a weak imitation of a laugh. He had only spoken  to  the
old crone for two minutes on the previous evening and that, when  he
had  first  arrived at Simon's party, for the purpose  of  detaching
Tanith from her. Even if she had seen him drive up to Claridges what
in  the world could have made her imagine that he had come to  visit
herl  If  only  he hadn't sent up that lilac he might have  politely
excused  himself-but he could hardly tell her now that he had  meant
it for someone else.
  'And  how  is  Monseigneur  le Due this  morning?'  the  old  lady
inquired, sinking into a chair he placed for her.
  'He  asked  me  to present his homage, Madame,' Rex lied  quickly,
instinctively  picking a phrase which De Richleau  might  have  used
himself.
  'Ca,  c'est  tres gentille.'E is a charming man-charming  an'  'is
cigars they are superb,' The Countess D'Urfe' produced a square case
from her bag and drew out a fat, dark Havana. As Rex applied a match
she  went  on  slowly: 'But it ees not right that one Circle  should
make  interference with the operations of another. What 'ave you  to
say of your be'aviour lars' night my young frien'?'
  'My  hat,' thought Rex, 'the old beldame fancies we're an opposing
faction  in  the same line of business-I'll have to use  this  if  I
can;'  so  he answered slowly: 'We were mighty sorry to have  to  do
what we did, but we needed Simon Aron for our own purposes.'
  'So!-you also make search for the Talisman then?'
  'Sure-that is, the Duke's taking a big interest in it.'
  'Which  of us are not-and 'oo but le petit Juif shall lead  us  to
it.'
  'That's true.'
  'Ave you yet attempted the Rite to Saturn?'
  'Yes,  but things didn't pan out quite as we thought they  would,'
Rex replied cautiously, -not having the faintest idea what they were
talking about.
  'You  'ave  satisfy  yourselves that the  aloes  and  mastic  were
fresh, eh?' The wicked old eyes bored into his.
  'Yes, I'm certain of that,' he assured her.
  'You  choose a time when the planet was in the 'ouse of Capricorn,
of course?'
  'Oh, surely!'
  'An'  you  'ave not neglect to make Libation to Our  Lady  Babalon
before'and?'
  'Oh, no, we wouldn't do that!'
  'Then per'aps your periods of silence were not long enough?'
  'Maybe  that's  so,' he admitted hurriedly, hoping to  close  this
madhatter's conversation before he completely put his foot into it.
  Countess  D'Urfe  nodded, then after drawing thoughtfully  at  her
cigar she looked at him intently. 'Silence,' she murmured. 'Silence,
that  ees always essential in the Ritual of Saturn-but you 'ave much
courage to thwart Mocata-'e is powerful, that one.'
  'Oh,  we're  not afraid of him,' Rex declared and,  recalling  the
highest grade of operator from his conversation with De Richleau, he
added:  'You  see  the  Duke  knows all  about  this  thing-he's  an
Ipsissimus.'
  The  old  lady's eyes almost popped out of their sockets  at  this
announcement,  and  Rex feared that he had gone  too  far,  but  she
leaned  forward and placed one of her jewelled claws upon  his  arm.
'An  Ipsissimus!-an' I 'av studied the Great Work for  forty  years,
yet  I  'ave reached only the degree of Practicus. But no, 'e cannot
be, or 'ow could 'e fail with the Rite to Saturn?'
  'I  only  said  that it didn't pan out quite as we expected,'  Rex
hastened  to remind her, 'and for the full dress business he'd  need
Simon Aron anyway.'
  'Of  course,'  she  nodded  again and continued  in  an  awestruck
whisper,  'an' De Richleau is then a real Master. You  must  be  far
advanced for one so young-that 'e allow you to work with 'im.'
  He  flicked  the ash off his cigarette but maintained  a  cautious
silence.
  'I  am  not-'ow you say-associated with Mocata long-since  I  'ave
arrive only recently in England, but De Richleau will cast 'im  down
into  the Abyss-for 'ow shall 'e prevail against one who is  of  ten
circles and a single square?'
  Rex nodded gravely.
  'Could  I not-' her dark eyes filled with a new eagerness,  'would
it  not  be possible for me to prostrate before your frien'? If  you
spoke  for  me also, per'aps 'e would allow that I should  occupy  a
minor place when 'e proceeds again to the invocation?'
  'Ho!  Ho!'  said Rex to himself, 'so the old rat wants to  scuttle
from the sinking ship, does she. I ought to be able to turn this  to
our  advantage,' while aloud he said with a lordly air: 'All  things
are possible-but there would be certain conditions.'
  'Tell me,' she muttered swiftly.
  'Well, there is this question of Simon Aron.'
  'What  question?-Now that you 'ave 'im with you-you  can  do  with
'im as you will.'
  Rex  quickly  averted  his  gaze from  the  piercing  black  eyes.
Evidently Mocata had turned the whole party out after they  had  got
away with Simon. The old witch obviously had no idea that Mocata had
regained  possession of him later. In another second he  would  have
given  away  their whole position by demanding Simon's  whereabouts.
Instead-searching  his  mind  desperately  for  the  right  bits  of
gibberish  he  said:  'When  De  Richleau  again  proceeds  to   the
invocation it is necessary that the vibrations of all present should
be attuned to those of Simon Aron.'
  'No  matter-willingly  I  will place  myself  in  your  'ands  for
preparation.'
  'Then  I'll put it up to him, but first I must obey his order  and
say  a  word  to  the  lady who was with you at  Aron's  house  last
night-Tanith.'  Having at last manoeuvred the conversation  to  this
critical  point, Rex mentally crossed his thumbs and  offered  up  a
prayer  that he was right in assuming that they were staying at  the
hotel together.
  She  smiled,  showing two rows of white false teeth. 'I  know  it,
and you must pardon, I beg, that we 'ave our little joke with you.'
  'Oh, don't worry about that,' he shrugged, wondering anxiously  to
what new mystery she was alluding, but to his relief she hurried on.
  'Each  morning we look into the crystal an' when she see you  walk
into  the  'otel  she  exclaim, “It is  for  me  'e  comes-the  tall
American,"  but  we  'ave no knowledge that  you  are  more  than  a
Neophyte  or a Zelator at the most, so when you send up the  flowers
she  say to me, "You shall go down to 'im instead an' after we  will
laugh at the discomfiture of this would-be lover."'
  The  smile  broadened on Rex's full mouth as he  listened  to  the
explanation  of much that had been troubling him in the  last  hour,
but  it  faded  suddenly as he realised that, natural as  it  seemed
compared to all this meaningless drivel which he had been exchanging
with the old woman, it was in reality one more demonstration of  the
occult.  These two women had actually seen him walk into  the  hotel
lounge when they were sitting upstairs in their room peering into  a
piece of glass.
  'In  some ways I suffer the disappointment,' said the old Countess
suddenly,   and  Rex  found  her  studying  turn  with  a   strange,
disconcerting  look. 'I know well that promiscuity  gives  a  greaty
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,  un
utterably glad that this extraordinary interview was over.
  However,  he  felt a glow of satisfaction in the thought  that  he
kad 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 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'Urfe 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'Urfe 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
Ipsissinus '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  queer
disconcerting  look. 'It matters not,' she murmured. 'We  shall  get
there  just  the same, Tanith and I-an' it should be interesting-for
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  I' 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'Urfe broke
in  hastily. Then 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'Urfe.  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 'em  a  yarn  that
you're  the high and mighty Hoodoo in the you-know-what-a fat 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.
  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 forme?'
  '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.'


                                 11

                      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 hi 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 own 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 invocations.'
  '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
very  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