empted to cast herself upon her knees, to struggle
back  from  this horror, but she seemed to be caught in an invisible
vice  and could not lift her glance for one single second from  that
small  lighted circle which stood out so clearly in the  surrounding
darkness of the mysterious valley.
  She  saw  the  Satanists  strip off their dominoes  and  shuddered
afresh-almost retching-as she watched them tumbling upon each  other
in  the  disgusting nudity of their ritual dance. Old Madame D'Urfe,
huge-buttocked and swollen, prancing by some satanic power with  all
the  vigour of a young girl who had only just reached maturity;  the
Babu,  dark-skinned, fleshy, hideous; the American  woman,  scraggy,
lean-flanked and hag-like with empty, hanging breasts; the Eurasian,
waving the severed stump of his arm in the air as he gavotted beside
the  unwieldy figure of the Irish bard, whose paunch stood out  like
the grotesque belly of a Chinese god.
  'They  are mad, mad, mad,' she found herself saying over and  over
again,  as  she rocked to and fro where she stood, weeping bitterly,
beating her hands together and her teeth chattering in the icy wind.
  The  dance  ceased on a high wail of those discordant  instruments
and  then  the  whole  of  that ghastly ghoul-like  crew  sank  down
together  in  a  tangled  heap  before the  Satanic  throne.  Tanith
wondered  for a second what was about to happen next,  even  as  she
made  a  fresh effort to drag herself away. Then Simon was  led  out
from  among  the  rest and she knew all too soon that  the  time  of
baptism was at hand. As she realised it, a new menace came upon her.
Without her own volition, her feet began to move.
  In  a panic of fear she found herself setting one before the other
and  advancing  slowly down the hill. She tried to scream,  but  her
voice  would not come. She tried to throw herself backward, but  her
body was held rigid, and an irresistible suction dragged at each  of
her  feet  in  turn,  lifting it a few inches from  the  ground  and
pulling it forward, so that, despite her uttermost effort of will to
resist  the  evil force, she was being drawn slowly  but  surely  to
receive her own baptism.
  The  weird unearthly music had ceased. An utter silence filled the
valley.  She  was no more than ten yards from the nearest  of  those
debased  creatures who hovered gibbering about the throne.  Suddenly
she  whimpered with fright for although she was still hidden by  the
darkness,  the  great horned head of the Goat turned and  its  fiery
eyes became fixed upon her.
  She  knew then that there was no escape. The warnings from Rex and
her  mother had come too late. Those powers which she had sought  to
suborne  now  held  her in their grip and she must  submit  to  this
loathsome  ritual despite the shrinking of her body  and  her  soul,
with all the added horror of full knowledge that it meant final  and
utter condemnation to the bottomless pit.


                                 18

                         The Power of Light

  At  the  sight of De Richleau's breakdown Rex almost gave in  too.
The cold sweat of terror had broken out on his own forehead, yet  he
was  still fighting down his fear and, after a moment, the  collapse
of  that indomitable leader to whom he had looked so often and  with
such  certain  faith  in the worst emergencies  brought  him  a  new
feeling  of responsibility. His generous nature was great enough  to
realise that the Duke's courage had only proved less than his own on
this occasion because of his greater understanding of the peril they
were  called upon to face. Now, it was as though the elder  man  had
been  wounded and put out of action, so Rex felt that it was  up  to
him to take command.
  'We  can't  Jet  this  thing be,' he said  with  sudden  firmness,
stooping to place an arm round De Richleau's shaking shoulders. 'You
stay here. I'm going down to face the music.'
  'No-no,  Rex.' The Duke grabbed at his coat. 'They'll  murder  you
without a second thought.'
  'Will  they? We'll see!' Rex gave a grating laugh. 'Well, if  they
do  you'll  have something you can fix on them that the police  will
understand. It'll be some consolation to think you'll see to it that
these devils swing for my murder if they do me in.'
  'Wait  I I won't let you go alone,' the Duke stumbled to his feet.
'Don't  you realise that death is the least thing I fear.  One  look
from  die eyes of the Goat could send you mad-then where is the case
to  put  before  the police? Half the people in our asylums  may  be
suffering  from  a physical lesion of the brain but the  others  are
unaccountably insane. The real reason is demoniac possession brought
about by looking upon terrible things that they were never meant  to
see.'
  'I'll  risk  it.' Rex was desperate now. He held up the  crucifix.
This is going to protect me, because I've got faith that it will.'
  'All  right then-but even madness isn't the worst that can  happen
to  us.  This life is nothing-I'm thinking of the next. Oh, God,  if
only  dawn  would come or we had some form of Light  that  we  could
bring to bear on these worshippers of Darkness.'
  Rex  took a pace forward. 'If we'd known what we were going to  be
up  against  we'd have brought a searchlight on a truck. That  would
have  given  this bunch something to think about if  light  has  the
power  you say. But it's no good worrying about that now. We've  got
to hurry.'
  'No-wait!'  the Duke exclaimed with sudden excitement.  'I've  got
it.  This way-quick!' He turned and set off up the hill at  a  swift
crouching run.
  Rex  followed, and when they reached the brow easily overtook him.
'What's  the idea,' he cried, using his normal voice for  the  first
time for hours.
  'The  car!' De Richleau panted, as he pelted over the rough  grass
to  the place where they had left the Hispano. To attack them  is  a
ghastly risk in any case, but this will give us a sporting chance.'
  Rex reached it first and flung open the door. The Duke tumbled  in
and  got  the  engine going. It purred on a low note as they  bumped
forward in the darkness to the brow of the hill.
  'Out  on the running-board, Rex,' snapped De Richleau as he thrust
out the clutch. He seemed in those few moments to have recovered all
his  old  steel-like indomitable purpose. 'It's  a  madman's  chance
because  it's ten to one we'll get stuck going up the  hill  on  the
other side, but we must risk that. When I use the engine again, snap
on  the  lights. As we go past, throw your crucifix straight at  the
thing on the throne. Then try and grab Simon by the neck.'
  'Fine!'  Rex  laughed suddenly, all his tension gone now  that  he
was at last going into action. 'Go to it!'
  The  car  slid forward, silently gathering momentum as  it  rushed
down  the steep slope. Next second they were almost upon the nearest
of the Satanists. The Duke let in the clutch and Rex switched on the
powerful headlights of the Hispano.
  With  the suddenness of a thunderclap a shattering roar burst upon
the  silence of the valley-as though some monster plane  was  diving
full  upon that loathsome company from the cloudy sky. At  the  same
instant,  the  whole  scene was lit in all  its  ghast-liness  by  a
blinding  glare  which swept towards them at terrifying  speed.  The
great  car  bounded  forward, the dazzling beams  threw  into  sharp
relief  the  naked forms gathered in the hollow. De Richleau  jammed
his foot down on the accelerator and, calling with all his will upon
the  higher  powers for their protection, charged straight  for  the
Goat of Mendes upon his Satanic throne.
  At  the  first  flash of those blinding lights which  struck  full
upon  them,  the  Satanists rushed screaming for cover.  It  was  as
though  two giant eyes of some nightmare monster leapt at them  from
the  surrounding darkness and the effect was as that of a  fire-hose
turned suddenly upon an angry threatening mob.
  Then-  maniacal  exaltation died away. The false  exhilaration  of
the alcohol, the pungent herbal incense and the drug-laden ointments
which  they  had smeared upon their bodies, drained from them.  They
woke  as  from an intoxicated nightmare to the realisation of  their
nakedness and helplessness.
  For  a moment some of them thought that the end had come and  that
the  Power of Darkness had cashed in their bond, claiming  them  for
its  own upon this last Walpurgis-Nacht. Others, less deeply  imbued
with  the  mysteries  of the Evil cult, forgot the  terrible  entity
whose  powers they had come to beg in return for their  homage  and,
reverting to their normal thoughts, saw themselves caught and ruined
in  some  ghastly scandal, believing those blinding shafts of  light
from the great Hispano to herald the coming of the police.
  As  the  grotesque nude figures scattered with shrieks  of  terror
the  car  bounded  from  ridge to ridge  heading  straight  for  the
monstrous  Goat.  When the lights fell upon it  Rex  feared  for  an
instant  that the malefic rays which streamed from its baleful  eyes
would  overcome the headlights of the car. The lamps  flickered  and
dimmed, but as the Duke clung to the wheel he was concentrating with
all  the power of his mind upon visualising the horseshoe surmounted
by  a  cross in silver light just above the centre of his  forehead,
setting the symbol in his aura and, at the same time, repeating  the
lines  of the Ninety-first Psalm which is immensely powerful against
all evil manifestations.
  '  "Whoso dwelleth under the defence of the most High: shall abide
under the shadow of the Almighty.
  I   will  say  unto the Lord, Thou are my hope, and my stronghold:
my God, in Him will I trust.
  For  He shall deliver thee from the snare of the hunter: and  from
the noisome pestilence." '
  From  the  time  Rex switched on the headlights,  it  was  only  a
matter  of seconds before the big car hurtled forward like a  living
thing right on to the ground where the Sabbat was being held.
  Rex,  clinging to the coachwork, and also visualising that  symbol
which  De  Richleau had impressed so strongly upon him, leaned  from
the  step  of  the  car  and, with all his force,  threw  the  ivory
crucifix straight in the terrible face of the monstrous beast.
  The  Duke swerved the car to avoid the throne and Simon who, alone
of  all  the  Satanists,  remained standing but  apparently  utterly
unconscious of what was happening.
  The  blue  flames of the black candles set upon the hellish  altar
went  out  as though quenched by some invisible hand. The lights  of
the  car  regained their full brilliance, and once again they  heard
the  terrible screaming neigh which seemed to echo over the desolate
Plain for miles around as the crucifix, shining white in the glow of
the headlights, passed through the face of the Goat.
  A  horrible stench of burning flesh mingled with the choking odour
from  the  sulphur candles, filled the air like some poisonous  gas,
but  there  was no time to think or analyse sensations.  After  that
piercing screech, the brute upon the rocks disappeared. At the  same
instant  Rex grabbed Simon by the neck and hauled him bodily  on  to
the step of the car as it charged the farther slope of the hollow. '
  Jolting  and  bouncing it breasted the rise,  hesitating  for  the
fraction  of a second upon the brink as though some awful power  was
striving  to  draw it backwards. But the Duke threw the  gear  lever
into low, and they lurched forward again on to level ground,
  Rex,  meanwhile, had flung open the door at the back  and  dragged
Simon  inside  where he collapsed on the floor in a senseless  heap.
Instinctively, although De Richleau had warned him not to do so,  he
glanced  out of the back window down into the valley where they  had
witnessed  such  terrible  things, but  it  lay  dark,  silent,  and
seemingly deserted.
  The  car was travelling now at a better pace, although De Richleau
did  not dare to use the full power of his engine for fear that they
should strike a sudden dip or turn over in some hidden gully.
  For  a mile they raced north-eastward while, without ceasing,  the
Duke muttered to himself those protective lines:
  '  "He  shall defend thee under his wings, and thou shall be  safe
under  his feathers: his faithfulness and truth shall be thy  shield
and buckler.
  Thou  shalt  not be afraid for any terror by night:  nor  for  the
arrow that flieth by day;
  For  the pestilence that walketh in darkness: nor for the sickness
that destroyeth in the noon-day."'

  Then to his joy, they struck a track at right-angles, and he
turned along it to the north-westward, slipping into top gear. The
car bounded forward and seemed to fly as though in truth all the
devils of Hell were unleashed behind it in pursuit. Swerving,
jolting, and bounding across the grassy ruts, they covered five
miles in twice as many minutes until they came upon the Lavington-
Westbury road.
  Even then De Richleau would not slow down but, turning in the
direction of London, roared on, swerving from bend to bend with
utter disregard for danger in his fear of the greater danger that
lay behind.
  They flashed through Earlstoke, Market Lavington and then
Easterton, where, unseen by them, the Blue Rolls lay just off the
road in a ditch where Tanith had crashed it a few hours before; then
Bushall, Upavon, Ludgershall and so to Andover, having practically
completed a circuit of the Plain. Here at last, at the entrance of
the town, the Duke brought the car to a halt and turned in his seat
to look at Rex,
  'How is he?' he asked.
  'About all-in I reckon. He is as cold as blazes, and he hasn't
fluttered an eyelid since I hauled him into the car. My God I what a
ghastly business.'
  'Grim, wasn't it!' De Richleau for once was looking more than his
age. His grey face was lined and heavy pouches seemed to have
developed beneath his piercing eyes. His shoulders were hunched as
he leaned for a moment apparently exhausted over the wheel. Then he
pulled himself together with a jerk and thrusting his hand in his
pocket, took out a flask which he passed to Rex.
  'Give him some of this-as much as you can get him to swallow. It
may help to pull him round.'
  Rex turned to where Simon lay hunched up beneath the car rugs on
the back seat beside him and forcing open his mouth poured a good
portion of the old brandy into it.
  Simon choked suddenly, gasped, and jerked up his head. His eyes
flickered open and he stared at Rex, but there was no recognition in
them. Then his lids closed again and his head fell backwards on the
seat.
  'Well, he's alive, thank God,' murmured Rex. 'While you've been
driving like a maniac I've been scared that we had lost poor Simon
for good and all. But now we'd best get him back to London or to the
nearest doctor just as soon as we can.'
  'I daren't.' De Richleau's eyes were full of a desperate anxiety.
That devilish mob will have recovered themselves and are probably
back at the house near Chilbury by now. They will be plotting
something against us you may be certain.'
  'You mean that as Mocata knows your flat he will concentrate on
it to get Simon back-just as he did before?' 'Worse, I doubt if
they'd ever let us reach it.' 'Oh, shucks!' Rex frowned impatiently,
'How're they going to stop us?'
  'They can control all the meaner things-bats, snakes, rats,
foxes, owls-as well as cats and certain breeds of dog like the
Wolfhound and Alsatian. If one of those dashed beneath the wheels of
the car when we were going at any speed it might turn over. Besides,
within certain limits, they can control the elements, so they could
ensure a dense local fog surrounding us the whole way, and every
mile of it we'd be facing the risk of another car that hadn't seen
our lights smashing into us head on at full speed. If they combine
the whole of their strength for ill it's a certainty they'll be able
to bring about some terrible accident before we can cover the
seventy miles to London. Remember too, this is still Walpurgis-Nacht
and every force of evil that is abroad will be leagued against us.
For every moment until dawn we three remain in the direst peril.'


                                 19

                        The Ancient Sanctuary

  'Well, we can't stay here,' Rex protested.
  'I  know,  and we've got to find some sanctuary where we can  keep
Simon safe until morning.'
  'How about a church?'
  'Yes,  if  we  could find one that is open. But they will  all  be
locked up at this hour.'
  'Couldn't we get some local parson out of bed?'
  'If  I  knew one anywhere near here I'd chance it, but how can  we
possibly expect a stranger to believe the story that we should  have
to tell? He would think us madmen, or probably that it was a plot to
rob  his church. But wait a moment! By Jove, I've got it! We'll take
him  to the oldest cathedral in Britain and one that is open to  the
skies.' With a sudden chuckle of relief, De Richleau set the car  in
motion again and began to reverse it.
  'Surely you're not going back?' Rex asked anxiously.
  'Only  three  miles  to the fork-roads at Weyhill,  then  down  to
Amesbury.'
  'Well, don't you call that going back?'
  'Perhaps,  but I mean to take him to Stonehenge. If we  can  reach
it,  we  shall be in safety, even though it is no more than a  dozen
miles from Chilbury.'
  Once  more  the  car rocketed along the road across those  grassy,
barren  slopes, cleaving the silent darkness of the night  with  its
great arced headlights.
  Twenty  minutes  later  they  passed again  through  the  twisting
streets  of Amesbury, now silent and shuttered while its inhabitants
slept,  not  even  dreaming of the terrible battle which  was  being
fought  out that night between the Power of Light and the  Power  of
Darkness,  so  near to them in actuality and yet so  remote  to  the
teeming life of everyday modern England.
  A  mile outside the town, they ran up the slope to the wire  fence
which  rings in the Neolithic monument, Stonehenge. The  Duke  drove
the  car  into the deserted car park beside the road and there  they
left it. Rex carried Simon, wrapped in De Richleau's great-coat  and
the  car rug, while the Duke followed him through the wire with  the
suitcase containing his protective impedimenta.
  As  they  staggered  over the grass, the  vast  monoliths  of  the
ancient  place of worship stood out against the skyline-the timeless
symbols  of  a forgotten cult that ruled Britain, before the  Romans
came to bring more decorative and more human gods.
  They passed the outer circle of great stone uprights upon some  of
which  the lintels forming them into a ring of arches still  remain.
Then  De  Richleau led the way between the mighty chunks  of  fallen
masonry  to  where, beside the two great trili-thons, the  sandstone
altar  slab  lies half buried beneath the remnants  of  the  central
arch.
  At  a  gesture  from the Duke, Rex laid Simon, still  unconscious,
upon  it.  Then  he looked up doubtfully. 'I suppose you  know  what
you're doing, but I've always heard that the Druids, who built  this
place, were a pretty grim lot. Didn't they sacrifice virgins on this
stone  and practise all sorts of pagan rites? I should have  thought
this  place would be more sacred to the Power of Evil than the Power
of Good.'
  'Don't  worry,  Rex,' De Richleau smiled in the darkness.  'It  is
true  that  the  Druids performed sacrifices,  but  they  were  sun-
worshippers. At the summer solstice, the sun rises over the  hilltop
there, shedding its first beam of light directly through the arch on
to this altar stone. This place is one of the most hallowed spots in
all  Europe because countless thousands of long-dead men  and  women
have worshipped here-calling upon the Power of Light to protect them
from the evil things that go in darkness-and the vibrations of their
souls  are about us now making a sure buttress and protection  until
the coming of the dawn.'
  With  gentle  hands, they set about a more careful examination  of
Simon.  His body was still terribly cold but they found that, except
for  where  Rex had clawed at his neck, he had suffered no  physical
injury.
  'What  do you figure to do now?' Rex asked as the Duke opened  his
suitcasej
  'Exorcise him in due form, in order to try and drive out any  evil
spirit by which he may be possessed.'
  'Like the Roman Catholic priests used to do in the Middle Ages.'
  'As they still do,' De Richleau answered soberly,
  'What-in these days?'
  'Yes. Don't you remember the case of Helene Poirier who died  only
in  1914. She suffered from such terrible demoniacal possession that
many  of  the  most learned priests in France, including Monsiegneur
Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans, and Monsieur Mallet, Superior  of  the
Grand  Seminary, had to be called in before, with God's  grace,  she
could be freed from the evil spirit which controlled her.'
  'I  didn't think the Church admitted the existence of such  things
as witchcraft and black magic.'
  'Then  you  are  very  ignorant, my friend.  I  do  not  know  the
official  views  of  others, but the Roman Church,  whose  authority
comes  unbroken over nineteen centuries from the time when Our  Lord
made  St.  Peter  his  viceregent on earth, has  ever  admitted  the
existence  of  the evil power. Why else should they have  issued  so
many ordinances against it, or at the present time so unhesitatingly
condemn all spiritualistic practices which they regard as the modern
counterparts of necromancy, by which Hell's emissaries seek to  lure
weak, foolish and trusting people into their net?'
  'I  can't  agree  to  that,' Rex demurred. 'I  know  a  number  of
Spiritualists, men and women of the utmost rectitude.'
  'Perhaps.' De Richleau was arranging Simon's limp body.  They  are
entitled  to their opinion and he who thinks rightly lives  rightly.
No  doubt their high principles act as a protective barrier  between
them  and  the more dangerous entities of the spirit world. However,
for  the  weak-minded  and mentally frail such  practices  hold  the
gravest peril. Look at that Bavarian family of eleven people, all of
whom  went out of their minds after a Spiritualistic seance in 1921.
The  case  was fully reported by the Press at the time and  I  could
give  you  a  dozen similar examples, all attributable  to  Diabolic
possession, of course. In fact, according to the Roman Church, there
is  no  phenomenon of modem Spiritism which cannot be paralleled  in
the records of old witch trials.'
  'According to them, maybe, but Simon's not a Catholic.'
  'No  matter,  there is nothing to prevent a member  of  the  Roman
Church  asking  Divine aid for any man whatever his race  or  creed.
Fortunately I was baptised a Catholic and, although I may not  be  a
good  one,  I  believe that with the grace of  God,  power  will  be
granted to me this night to help our poor friend.
  'Kneel  down  now and pray silently, for all prayers are  good  if
the heart is earnest and perhaps those of the Church of England more
efficacious than others since we are now in the English countryside.
It  is  for  that reason I recite certain psalms from  the  book  of
Common Prayer. But be ready to hold him if he leaps up for, if he is
possessed, the Demon within him will fight like a maniac.'
  De  Richleau took up the holy water and sprinkled a few  drops  on
Simon's  forehead.  They remained there a moment and  then  trickled
slowly  down  his drawn, furrowed face. But he remained  corpse-like
and still.
  'May the Lord be praised,' murmured the Duke.
  'What is it?' breathed Rex.
  'He  is  not  actually possessed. If he were the holy water  would
have  scalded him like boiling oil, and at its touch the Demon would
have screamed like a hell cat.'
  'What now then?'
  'He  still reeks of evil so I must employ the banishing ritual  to
purge the atmosphere about him and do all things possible to protect
him from Mocata's influence. Then we will see if this coma shows any
signs of lifting.'
  The  Duke  produced  a  crutch of Rowan  wood  then  proceeded  to
certain  curious  and  complicated  rites;  consisting  largely   in
stroking Simon's limbs with a brushing motion towards the feet;  the
repetition of many Latin formulas with long intervals in which,  led
by the Duke, the two men knelt to pray beside their friend.
  Simon  was anointed with holy water and with holy oil. The gesture
of Horus was made to the north, to the south, to the east and to the
west.  The  palms of his hands were sprinkled and the soles  of  his
feet. Asafoetida grass was tied round his wrists and his ankles.  An
orb with the cross upon it was placed in his right hand, and a phial
of  quicksilver between his lips. A chain of garlic flowers was hung
about  his  neck,  and the sacred oil placed in  a  cross  upon  his
forehead. Each action upon him was preceded by prayer, concentration
of  thought,  and invocation to the archangels, the high  beings  of
Light, and to his own higher consciousness.
  At  last,  after an hour, all had been accomplished in  accordance
with  the ancient lore and De Richleau examined Simon again. He  was
warmer now and the ugly lines of distress and terror had faded  from
his  face.  He  seemed to have passed out of his dead faint  into  a
natural sleep and was breathing regularly.
  'I  think  that with God's help we have saved him,'  declared  the
Duke.  'He  looks almost normal now, but we had best wait  until  he
wakes  of  his own accord; I can do no more, so we will rest  for  a
little.'
  Rex  passed  his  hand across his eyes as De  Richleau  sank  down
beside  him.  'I'll  say I need it. Would  it  be  .  .  .  er  .  .
sacrilegious or anything if I had a smoke?'
  'Of  course not.' De Richleau drew out his cigars. 'Have  a  Hoyo.
It is thoughts, not formalities, which make an atmosphere of good or
evil.'
  For  a  little  while the two friends sat silent,  the  points  of
their  cigars glowing faintly in the darkness until a pale  greyness
in  the  eastern sky made clearer the ghostly outlines of the  great
oblong stones towering at varying angles to twenty feet about  their
heads.
  'What  a  strange place this is,' Rex murmured. 'How  old  do  you
suppose it to be?'
  'About four thousand years.'
  'As old as that, eh?'
  'Yes,  but  that is young compared with the Pyramids  and,  beside
them,  for  architecture and scientific alignment, this thing  is  a
primitive toy.'
  'Those  ancient Britons must have been a whole heap cleverer  than
we  give them credit for all the same, to get these great blocks  of
stone  set  up.  It  would  tax  all the  resources  of  our  modern
engineers, I reckon. Some of them must weigh a hundred tons apiece.'
  De  Richleau  nodded.  'Only the piety of  many  thousand  willing
hands,  hauling on skin ropes, and manipulating vast  levers,  could
have  accomplished it, but what is even more remarkable is that  the
foreign  stones  were transported from a quarry nearly  two  hundred
miles from here.'
  'What do you mean by "foreign stones"?'
  The  stones which form the inner ring and the inner horseshoe  are
called so because they were brought from a great distance-a place in
Pembrokeshire, I think.'
  'Horseshoe,' Rex repeated with a puzzled look. 'I thought all  the
stones were placed in rings.'
  'It  is  hardly discernible in the ruins now, but originally  this
great temple consisted of an outer ring formed of big arches, then a
concentric  circle  of  smaller uprights. Inside  that,  five  great
separate  trilithons  of  arches, two of which  you  can  see  still
standing,  set in the form of a horseshoe and then another horseshoe
of the smaller stones,'
  The Druids used the horseshoe, too, then?'
  'Certainly.  As  I  have  told you, it is  a  most  potent  symbol
indissolubly connected with the Power of Light. Hence my use  of  it
in connection with the swastika and the cross.'
  They  fell  silent again for some time, then Simon stirred  beside
them  and they both stood up. He slowly turned over and looked about
him  with duil eyes until he recognised his friends, and asked in  a
stifled voice where he was.
  Without  answering,  De Richleau drew him  down  between  Rex  and
himself  on  to  his  knees, and proceeded to give  thanks  for  his
restoration.  'Repeat after me,' he said, 'the words of  the  fifty-
first Psalm.
  '  "Have mercy upon me, O God, after thy great goodness: according
to the multitude of thy mercies do away mine offences.
  Wash  me  thoroughly from my wickedness: and cleanse  me  from  my
sin,
  For I  acknowledge my faults and my sin is ever before me." '
  To  the  end of the beautiful penitent appeal the Duke read  in  a
solemn voice from the Prayer Book by the aid of a little torch while
the  others repeated verse by verse after him. Then all three  stood
up and began at last to talk in their normal voices.
  De  Richleau  explained what had taken place, and Simon  sat  upon
the altar-stone weeping like a child as now, with a clear brain,  he
began  at  last  to  understand the terrible peril  from  which  his
friends had rescued him.
  He  remembered  the party which had been given at  his  house  and
that   the   Duke  had  hypnotised  him  in  Curzon  Street.   After
that-nothing, until he found himself present in the Sabbat which had
been held that night, and even then he could only see vague pictures
of  it, as though he had not participated in it himself, but watched
the  whole of the ghastly proceedings from a distance; horrified  to
the  last  degree to see a figure that seemed to be  himself  taking
part  in  those  abominable  ceremonies, yet  mentally  chained  and
powerless to intervene or stop that body, so curiously like his own,
participating in that godless scene of debauchery.
  Dawn  was  now breaking in the eastern sky. as De Richleau  placed
his  arm affectionately round Simon's shoulders. 'Don't take  it  to
heart  so, my friend,' he said kindly. 'For the moment at least  you
have been spared, and praise be to God you are still sane, which  is
more than I dared to hope for when we got you here.'
  Simon  nodded. 'I know-I've been lucky,' he said soberly. 'But  am
I  really free-for good? I'm afraid Mocata will try and get me  back
somehow.'
  'Now  we're  together again you needn't worry,' Rex  grinned.  'If
the  three of us can't fight this horror and win out we're  not  the
men I always thought we were.'
  'Yes,'  Simon  agreed, a little doubtfully. 'But  the  trouble  is
that I was born at a time when certain stars were in conjunction, so
in  a  way  I'm the key to a ritual which Mocata's set his heart  on
performing.'
  The invocation to Saturn coupled with Mars,' the Duke put in.
  'I'm  scared he'll exercise every incantation in the book to  drag
me back to him despite myself,'
  'Isn't  that  danger  over? Surely it should have  been  done  two
nights ago, but we managed to prevent it then.'
  'Ner,' Simon used his favourite negative with a little wriggle  of
his bird-like head. 'That would have been the most suitable time  of
all,  but the ritual can be performed with a reasonable prospect  of
success any night while the two planets remain in the same house  of
the Zodiac.'
  'Then  the  longer we can keep you out of Mocata's  clutches,  the
less  chance  he  stands of pulling it off as the  two  planets  get
farther apart,' Rex commented.
  De  Richleau sighed. His face looked grey and haggard in the early
morning  light. 'In that case,' he said slowly, 'Mocata  will  exert
his  whole strength when twilight comes again, and we shall have  to
fight with our backs to the wall throughout this coming night.'


                                 20

                          The Four Horsemen

  Now  that the sun was up Rex's resilient spirit reasserted itself.
'Time  enough to worry about tonight when we are through today,'  he
declared  cheerfully. 'What we need most just  now  is  a  good  hot
breakfast.'
  The  Duke  smiled. 'I thoroughly agree, and in any case  we  can't
stay  here much longer. While we feed we'll discuss the safest place
to which we can take Simon.'
  'We  can't take him anywhere at the moment,' Rex grinned. 'Not  as
he  is-with  only  the  car  rug and your great-coat  to  cover  his
birthday suit.'
  Simon  tittered into his hand. It was the gesture which  both  his
friends  knew so well, and which it delighted them to see again.  'I
must  look pretty comic as I am,' he chuckled. 'And it's chilly too.
One of you had better try and raise me a suit of clothes.'
  'You  take  the  car, Rex,' said the Duke, 'and drive  into  Ames-
bury. Knock up the first clothes dealer you can find and buy him  an
outfit. Have you enough money?'
  'Plenty. I was going down to Derby yesterday for the first  Spring
Race  Meeting if this business hadn't cropped up overnight.  So  I'd
drawn fifty the day before.'
  'Good,'  the  Duke  nodded. 'We shan't move from  here  until  you
return.'  Then, as Rex strode away across the grass to the  Hispano,
which  was  now visible where they had left it in the  car-park,  he
turned to Simon:
  'Tell  me,'  he  said, 'while Rex is gone. How did  you  ever  get
drawn into this terrible business?'
  Simon  smiled. 'Well,' he said hesitantly, 'it may  seem  a  queer
thing to say, but you are partly responsible yourself.'
  'I!' exclaimed the Duke. 'What the deuce do you mean?'
  'I'm  not  blaming  you,  of course, in  the  least,  but  do  you
remember  that long chat we had when we were both down at  Cardinals
Folly  for  Christmas? It started by your telling us about  the  old
Alchemists and how they used to make gold out of base metals.'
  De  Richleau  nodded. 'Yes, and you threw doubt upon my  statement
that  the feat had actually been performed. I cited the case of  the
scientist  Helvetius, I remember, who was bitterly  opposed  to  the
pretentions of the Alchemists, but who, when he was visited  by  one
at  the Hague in December, 1666, managed to secrete a little of  the
reddish  powder which the man showed him under his finger-nail,  and
afterwards succeeded in transmuting a small amount of lead into gold
with  it. But you would not believe me, although I assured you, that
no less a person than Sponoza verified the experiment at the time.'
  'That's   right,'   said  Simon.  'Well,  I  was   sceptical   but
interested, so I took the trouble to check up as far as possible  on
all you'd said. It was Spinoza's testimony that impressed
  me because he was so very sane and unbiased.'
  'So was Helvetius himself for that matter.'
  'I  know.  Anyhow,  I  dug up the fact that  Povelius,  the  chief
tester of the Dutch Mint, assayed the metal seven times with all the
leading  goldsmiths at the Hague and they unanimously pronounced  it
to  be  pure gold. Of course there was a possibility that  Helvetius
deceived  them  by submitting a piece of gold obtained  through  the
ordinary  channels, but it hardly seemed likely  that  he  practised
deliberate  fraud, because he had no motive. He had always  declared
his  disbelief in alchemy and he couldn't make any more  because  he
hadn't  got  the powder -so there was no question of his  trying  to
float a bogus company on the experiment. He couldn't even claim  any
scientific kudos from it either because he frankly admitted that  he
had  stolen the powder from the stranger who showed it to him. After
that  I  went  into  the  experiment of Berigord  de  Pisa  and  Van
Helmont.'
  'And  what did you think of those?' asked the Duke, his lined face
showing quick interest in the early morning light.
  'They  shook  my  unbelief  a lot. Van Helmont  was  the  greatest
chemist  of his time, and like Helvetius, he'd always said the  idea
of  transmitting  base metals into gold was sheer nonsense  until  a
stranger gave him a little of that mysterious powder with which  he,
too,  performed  the experiment successfully; and he  again  had  no
personal axe to grind,'
  'There  are  plenty  of other cases as well,' remarked  the  Duke;
'Raymond Lully made gold for King Edward III of England, and  George
Ripley  gave ?100,000 of alchemical gold to the Knights  of  Rhodes.
The  Emperor Augustus of Saxony left 17,000,000 Rix dollars and Pope
John  XXII of Avignon 25,000,000 florins, sums which were positively
gigantic  for  those days. Both were poor men with slender  revenues
which could not have accounted in a hundred years for such fortunes.
But  both  were  alchemists, and transmutation is the only  possible
explanation of the almost fabulous treasure which was actually found
in their coffers after their deaths.'
  Simon  nodded. 'I know. And if one rejects the sworn  evidence  of
men  like Spinoza and Van Helmont, why should one believe the people
who  say  they  can  measure  the distance  to  the  stars,  or  the
scientists of the last century who produced electrical phenomena?'
  The  difference  is that the mass mind will not accept  scientific
truths  unless they can be demonstrated freely and harnessed to  the
public  good.  Everyone  accepts the miracle  that  sulphur  can  be
converted  into fire because they see it happen twenty times  a  day
and we all carry a box of matches in our pockets, but if it had been
kept  as  a jealously guarded secret by a small number of initiates,
the  public would still regard it as impossible. And that, you  see,
is precisely the position of the alchemist.
  'He  stands  apart  from the world and is indifferent  to  it.  To
succeed  in the Great Work he must be absolutely pure, and  to  such
men  gold is dross. In most cases he makes only sufficient to supply
his  modest needs and refuses to pass on his secret to the  profane;
but  that does not necessarily mean that he is a fraud and  a  liar.
The  theory  that  all  matter is composed of atoms,  molecules  and
electrons in varying states is generally accepted now. Milk  can  be
made  as hard as concrete by the new scientific process, glass  into
women's  dresses,  wood and human flesh decay into  a  very  similar
dust,  iron  turns to rust, and crystals are known to grow  although
they are a type of stone. Even diamonds can be made synthetically.'
  'Of  course,'  Simon agreed, with his old eagerness,  so  absorbed
now  in  the  discussion  as  to  be  apparently  oblivious  of  his
surroundings.  'And  as far as metals are concerned,  they  are  all
composed of sulphur and mercury and can be condensed or materialised
by  means  of  a salt. Only the varying proportions of  those  three
Principals account for the difference between them. Metals  are  the
fruits  of  mineral  nature, and the baser  ones  are  still  unripe
because the sulphur and mercury had no time to combine in the  right
proportions   before   they  solidified.   This   powder,   or   the
Philosophers' Stone as they call it, is a ferment that forces on the
original process of Nature and ripens the base metals into gold.'
  'That  is  so.  But  do you mean to tell me  that  you  have  been
experimenting yourself?'
  'Ner,' Simon shook his narrow head. 'I soon found out that  to  do
so  would  mean a lifetime of restheticism and then perhaps  failure
after  all.  It  is hardly in my line to become a "Puffer."  Besides
it's  obvious that transmutation in its higher sense is the  supreme
mystery of turning Matter into Light. Metals are like men, the baser
corresponding   to   the  once  born,  and  both  gradually   become
purified-metals   by  geological  upheavals-   men   by   successive
reincarnations,  and  the  part piayed by  the  secret  agent  which
hurries lead to gold is the counterpart of esoteric initiation which
lifts the spirit towards light.'
  'Was that your aim then?'
  To  some  extent.  You  know how one thing  leads  to  another.  I
discovered that the whole business is bound up with the Quabalah so,
being  a  Jew,  I  began to study the esoteric doctrine  of  my  own
people.'
  De  Richleau nodded. 'And very interesting you found it.  I  don't
doubt.'
  'Yes,  it  took  a bit of getting into, but after  I'd  tackled  a
certain amount of the profane literature to get a grounding, I  read
the Sepher Ha Zoher, the Sepher Jetyirah and some of the Midraschim.
Then I began to see a Little daylight.'
  'In  fact  you began to believe, lake most people who have  really
read  considerably  and  had a wide experience  of  life,  that  our
western  scientists have only been advancing in  one  direction  and
that  we have even lost the knowledge of many things with which  the
wise men of ancient times were well acquainted.'
  'That's  so,'  Simon smiled again. 'I've always  been  a  complete
sceptic. But once I began to burrow beneath the surface I found such
a  mass  of  evidence that I could no longer doubt the existence  of
strange hidden forces which can be chained and untilised if o