ne only
knows the way.'
  'Yes.  And  plenty  of people still interest themselves  in  these
questions  and use the Quabalah to promote their own well-being  and
the general good. But where does Mocata come into all this?'
  Simon  shuddered slightly at the name and drew the  car  rug  more
closely about his shoulders. 'I met him in Paris,' he said, 'at  the
house of a French banker with whom I've sometimes done business.'
  'Castelnau!' exclaimed the Duke. 'The man with the jagged  ear.  I
knew  last night that I had seen that ear somewhere before, but  for
the life of me I couldn't recall where.'
  Simon  nodded quickly. That's right-Castelnau. Well, I met  Mocata
at  his  place,  and  I  don't quite know how it  started,  but  the
conversation  drifted  round to the Quabalah  and,  as  I  had  been
soaking  myself in it at the time, I was naturally in- terested.  He
said  he had a lot of books upon it and suggested that I might  like
to  visit  the  house where he was staying and have a  look  through
them.  Of  course I did. Then he told me that he was  conducting  an
experiment  in Magic the following night, and asked if I would  care
to be present.'
  'I see. That's how the trouble started.'
  'Yes.  The experiment was quite a harmless affair. He made certain
ritual  conjurations with the four elements, Fire,  Air,  Water  and
Earth,  then told me to look into a mirror with him. It was  an  old
Venetian  piece,  a  bit  spotted at the back  but  otherwise  quite
ordinary  you  know. As I watched, it clouded over with  a  sort  of
mist, then when it cleared again I could no longer see my reflection
in  it, but a sheet of newspaper instead. It was the financial  page
of  Le  Temps  giving all the quotations of the Paris Bourse,  which
sounds  pretty prosaic I suppose, but the queer part  is  that  this
issue was dated three days ahead.'
  De  Richleau  stroked his lean face with his slender  fingers.  'I
saw  a  similar demonstration in Cairo once,' he commented  gravely.
'But on that occasion it was the name of the new Commander-in-Chief,
who  had  only  been  appointed by the War  Office  in  London  that
afternoon, which appeared in the mirror. You took a note of some  of
the Bourse quotations I suppose?'
  'Urn.  The list wasn't visible for more than ten seconds then  the
mirror  clouded  over again and went back to its normal  state,  but
that  was  quite  long enough for me to memorise the  stocks  I  was
interested in, and when I checked up afterwards they were right to a
fraction.'
  'What happened then?'
  'Mocata  offered to instruct me in the attainment of the knowledge
and  conversation of my Holy Guardian Angel as the first step on the
road to obtaining similar powers myself.'
  'My  poor Simon!' The Duke made an unhappy grimace. 'You  are  not
the  first to be trapped by a Brother of the Left Hand Path  who  is
recruiting for the Devil by such a promise. If you had known more of
Magic you would have realised that it is proper to pass through  the
six stages of Probationer, Neophyte, Zelator, Practicus, Philosophus
and  Dominus Liminis before, as an Adeptus Inferior after many years
of  study and experience, you would be qualified to take the risk of
attempting  to  pass the Abyss. Besides, there are no precise  rules
for  attaining the knowledge and conversation of one's Holy Guardian
Angel. It is a thing which each man must work out for himself and no
other can help one to it. Mocata invoked your Evil Angel, of course,
to  act  a  blasphemous impersonation while your Holy Guardian  wept
impotent tears to see the terrible danger into which you were  being
drawn.'
  'I  suppose so, although, of course, I couldn't know that  at  the
time. Anyhow, I had to go back to London a few days later, and I was
so  impressed  by  that  time that I asked Mocata  to  let  me  know
directly he arrived, because he spoke of coming over. He turned up a
fortnight later and rang me up at once to urge me to unload a lot of
stock  that he knew I was carrying. I had faith in it myself but  in
view  of what I'd seen in his mirror I took his tip and saved myself
quite a packet, because the market broke almost immediately after.'
  'Was  that  when you asked him to go and live with you?'  inquired
the Duke.
  'Yes.  I  suggested that he should stay with me while  he  was  in
London  because  he had no suitable place in which to  practise  his
evocations at his hotel. He moved over to St. John's Wood  then  and
after that we used to sit up together in the observatory pretty well
every night. That's why I saw so little of you during that time. But
the results were extraordinary-utterly amazing.'
  'He  gave  you  more  information which  governed  your  financial
transactions, I suppose.'
  'Yes,  but more than that. He foretold the whole of the Stravinsky
scandal.  I'm  not  a poor man as you know, but  if  I  hadn't  been
forewarned about that, it would have darn nearly broken  me.  As  it
was,  I  cleared every single share in the dud companies before  the
storm broke and got out with an immense profit.'
  'By that time you had begun to dabble in Black Magic I imagine?'
  Simon's  dark  eyes flickered away from the Duke's for  a  moment,
then he nodded. 'Just a bit. He asked me to recite the Lord's Prayer
backwards  one night, and I was a bit unhappy about it  but  .  .  .
well, I did. He said that since I wasn't a Christian anyhow no  harm
could come to me from it.'
  'It is horribly potent all the same,' the Duke commented.
  'Perhaps,'   agreed   Simon   miserably.   'But   Mocata  is    so
devilish  glib and according to him there is no such thing as  Black
Magic anyhow. The harnessing of supernatural powers to one's will is
just Magic-neither black nor white, and that's all there is to it.'
  'Tell me about this man.'
  'Oh,  he's about fifty, I suppose, bald-headed, with curious light
blue eyes and a paunch that would rival Dorn Goren-fiot's.'
  'I  know,'  agreed the Duke impatiently. 'I've  seen  him.  But  I
meant his personality, not his appearance.'
  'Of  course, I forgot,' Simon apologised. 'You know for weeks  now
I hardly know what I've been doing. It's almost as though I had been
dreaming   the   whole   time.  But  about  Mocata:   he   possesses
extraordinary  force of character, and he can be the  most  charming
person when he likes. He's clever of course-amazingly so, and  seems
to  have  read  pretty well every book that one can think  of.  It's
extraordinary, too, what a fascination he can exercise over women. I
know half a dozen who are simply "bats" about him.'
  'What can you tell me of his history?'
  'Not  much, I'm afraid. His Christian name is Damien and he  is  a
Frenchman by nationality, but his mother was Irish. He was  educated
for  the  Church. In fact, he actually took Orders, but finding  the
life of a priest did not suit him, he chucked it up.'
  De  Richleau  nodded. 'I thought as much. Only an ordained  priest
can practise the Black Mass, and since he is so powerful an adept of
the  Left  Hand Path, it was pretty certain that he was  a  renegade
priest  of  the Roman Church. But what more can you tell  me?  Every
scrap  of  information  which you have may help  us  in  our  fight,
because you must remember, Simon, that you have only achieved a very
temporary  security. The battle will begin again when  he  exercises
his dominance over you to call you back.'
  Simon  shifted  his  position  on  the  stones  and  then  replied
thoughtfully. 'He does the most lovely needlework, petit  point  and
that  sort  of  thing you know, and he's terribly  fastidious  about
keeping his plump little hands scrupulously clean. As a companion he
is  delightful  to  be with except that he will smother  himself  in
expensive perfumes and is as greedy as a schoolboy about sweets.  He
had  huge boxes of fondants, crystallised fruits, and marzipan  sent
over from Paris twice a week when he was at St. John's Wood.
  'Ordinarily   he  was  perfectly  normal  and  his  manners   were
charming, but now and again he used to get irritable fits. They came
on  about once a month and after he had been boiling up for  twenty-
four  hours, he use to clear out for a couple of days and nights.  I
don't know where he used to go to at those times, but I ran into him
one  morning  early, when he had just returned  from  one  of  these
bouts,  and  he was in a shocking state: filthy dirty, a  two  days'
growth  of  beard on his chin, his clothes all torn  and  absolutely
stinking  of drink. It looked to me as if he hadn't been to  bed  at
all  the  whole  time  but  had  been wallowing  in  every  sort  of
debauchery down in the slums of the East End.
  'He  is  quite  an  exceptional hypnotist, of  course,  and  keeps
himself  in touch with what is going on in Paris, Berlin,  New  York
and a dozen other places by throwing various women, who used to come
and  visit  him  regularly, into a trance. One of them  was  a  girl
called Tanith, a perfectly lovely creature. You may have seen her at
the  party, and he says she is by far the best medium he's ever had.
He  can  use her almost like a telephone and plug in right  away  to
whatever  he wants to know about. Whereas with the others there  are
very often hitches and delays.'
  'You let him hypnotise you, too, of course?'
  'Yes, hi order to get these financial results.'
  'I  thought  as  much,' De Richleau nodded.  'And  after  you  had
allowed  him to do it willingly for some little time he was able  to
block out your own mentality entirely and govern your every thought.
That's why you've failed to realise what's been going on. It is just
as though he'd been keeping you drugged the whole time.'
  'Um,'  Simon  agreed  miserably. 'It makes me positively  sick  to
think  of it, but I suppose he has been gradually preparing  me  for
this  Ritual to Saturn which he meant to perform two nights ago  and
...'  He broke off suddenly as Rex appeared between two of the great
monoliths.
  Grinning  from ear to ear, Rex displayed his purchases  for  their
inspection. A pair of grey flannel shorts, a khaki shirt, black  and
white check worsted stockings, a gaudy tie of revolting magenta hue,
a  pair  of  waders, a cricket cap quartered in alternate triangular
sections  of  orange and mauve, and a short, dark  blue  bicyclist's
cape.
  'Only things I could get,' he volunteered cheerfully. 'The
  people  who run the local Co-op don't live on the premises,  so  I
had to knock up a sports outfitter.'
  De  Richleau  sat  back  and  roared  with  laughter  while  Simon
fingered the queer assortment of garments doubtfully. 'You're joking
Rex,'  he protested with a sheepish grin. 'I can't return to  London
in this get-up.'
  'We're  not  going  to  London,'  the  Duke  announced.  'But   to
Cardinals Folly.'
  'What-to  Marie Lou's?' Rex looked at him sharply.  'How  did  you
come to get that idea ...'
  'Something that Simon said just after you left us.'
  Simon  shook his head jerkily. 'I don't like it-not a little  bit.
I'd never forgive myself if I brought danger into their home.'
  'You  will  do  as  you're told my friend,'  De  Richleau's  voice
brooked  no  further argument. 'Richard and Marie Lou are  the  most
mentally  healthy couple that I know. The atmosphere of  their  sane
and  happy household will be the very best protection we could  find
for  you  and all of us are certain of a warm welcome. No harm  will
come to them if we exercise reasonable precautions, and the help  of
their  right-thinking minds will give us the extra strength we need.
Besides,  they are about the only people to whom we can explain  the
whole  situation without being taken for madmen. Now  hurry  up  and
array yourself like the champion of next year's Olympic games.'
  With a shrug of his narrow shoulders Simon disappeared behind  the
stones while Rex added: 'That's right. I ordered ham and eggs to  be
got  ready  at the local inn and I'm mighty anxious to start  in  on
them.'
  'Eggs  and fruit,' cut in the Duke, 'but no ham for any of us.  It
is  essential that we should avoid meat for the moment. If we are to
retain our astral strength our physical bodies must undergo a  semi-
fast at least.'
  Rex  groaned.  'Why, oh, why dear Simon, did you ever  go  hunting
Talisman  and  let your friends in for this? When I went  to  Russia
after the Shulimoff jewels and you came to get me out of trouble, at
least  it  didn't  prevent your feeding decently when  you  had  the
chance.'
  'That  reminds  me,' De Richleau threw over his  shoulder  in  the
direction where Simon was struggling into his queer garments.  'What
is this Talisman? Rex mentioned it last night.'
  'It's  the  reason why Mocata is certain to make every  effort  to
get  possession of me again,' Simon's voice came back. 'It is buried
somewhere, and adepts of the Left Hand Path have been seeking it for
centuries. It conveys almost limitless powers upon its possessor and
Mocata  has discovered that its whereabouts will be revealed  if  he
can  practise  the ritual to Saturn in conjunction  with  Mars  with
someone  who  was  born  in  a certain  year  at  the  hour  of  the
conjunction. There can't be many such, but for my sins I  happen  to
be  one,  and even if he can find others they might not be  suitable
for various reasons.'
  'Yes, I realise that. But what is the Talisman?'
  'I  don't  really know. Except for conducting my business  on  the
lines  suggested  by  Mocata,  I  don't  think  my  brain  has  been
functioning  at  all  in the last two months. But  it's  called  the
Talisman of Set.'
  'What!'  The Duke sprang to his feet as Simon appeared grotesquely
attired  in  his incongruous new clothes, his long knees  protruding
beneath the shorts, the absurd cricket cap set at a rakish angle  on
his head, and the cycling cloak flapping about his shoulders.
  Rex  dissolved  into tears of laughter, but the Duke's  grim  face
quickly sobered his mirth.
  'The Talisman of Set,' De Richleau repeated almost in a whisper.
  'Yes, it has something to do with four horsemen I think- but  what
on earth's the matter?' Simon's big mouth fell open in dismay at the
sight of the Duke's horror-stricken eyes.
  'It  has indeed! The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,' De Richleau
grated  out.  'War,  Plague, Famine and  Death.  We  all  know  what
happened  the last time those four terrible entities were  unleashed
to cloud the brains of statesmen and rulers.'
  'You're referring to the Great War I take it.' Rex said soberly.
  'Of  course, and every adept knows that it started because one  of
the  most terrible Satanists who ever lived found one of the  secret
gateways through which to release the four horsemen.'
  'I  thought the Germans got a bit above themselves,' Rex hazarded,
'although it seems that lots of other folks were pretty well as much
to blame.'
  'You fool!' De Richleau suddenly swung upon him. 'Germany did  not
make  the  War. It came out of Russia. It was Russia who  instigated
the murder at Sarajevo, Russia who backed Serbia to resist Austria's
demands,  Russia who mobilised first and Russia who invaded Germany.
The  monk  Rasputin was the Evil genius behind it all.  He  was  the
greatest  Black Magician that the world has known for centuries.  It
was  he who found one of the gateways through which to let forth the
four horsemen that they might wallow in blood and destruction-and  I
know  the Talisman of Set to be another. Europe is ripe now for  any
trouble and if they are loosened again, it will be final Armageddon.
This  is no longer a personal matter of protecting Simon. We've  got
to  kill  Mocata before he can secure the Talisman and  prevent  his
plunging the world into another war.'


                                 21

                           Cardinals Folly

  Richard Eaton read the telegram a second time:
  'Eat  no lunch this vitally important Simon ill Rex and I bringing
him  down to you this afternoon Marie Lou must stop eating too  kiss
Fleur love all.-De Richleau,'
  He  passed one hand over the smooth brown hair which grew from his
broad forehead in an attractive widow's peak, and handed the wire to
his wife with a puzzled smile.
  'This is from the Duke. Do you think he has gone crazy- or what?'
  'What, darling,' said Marie Lou promptly. 'Definitely what. If  he
stood on his handsome head in Piccadilly and the whole world told me
he  was  crazy  I should still maintain that dear old  Greyeyes  was
quite sane.'
  'But  really,' Richard protested. 'No lunch-and you told  me  that
the  shrimps from Morecambe Bay came in this morning. I was  looking
forward ...'
  'My  sweet!' Marie Lou gave a delicious gurgle of laughter as  she
flung one arm round his neck and drew him down on to the sofa beside
her. 'What a glutton you are. You simply live for your tummy.'
  He nuzzled his head against her thick chestnut curls. 'I don't.  I
eat only in order to maintain sufficient strength to deal with you.'
  'Liar,'  she pushed him away suddenly. 'There must be some  reason
for  this  extraordinary wire, and poor Simon ill tool What  can  it
mean?'
  'God  knows! Anyhow it seems that virtuous and upright wife orders
preparations  of rooms for guests while miserable worm husband  goes
down  into dark, dirty cellar to select liquid sustenance for same.'
Richard paused for a moment. A wicked little smile hovered round his
lips  as he looked at Marie Lou curled up on the sofa with her  slim
legs  tucked  under her like a very lovely Persian kitten,  then  he
added  thoughtfully: 'I think tonight perhaps we might give  them  a
Little of the Chateau Lafite '99.'
  'Don't  you  dare,' she cried, springing to her  feet.  'You  know
that it's my favourit.,'
  'Got  you-got  you,'  chanted Richard merrily.  'Who's  a  glutton
now?'
  'You  beast,' she pouted deliciously, and for the thousandth  time
since he had brought her out of Russia her husband felt himself go a
little  giddy  as his eyes rested on the perfection  of  her  heart-
shaped face, the delicately flushed cheeks and the heavy-lidded blue
eyes, With a sudden movement, he jerked her to him and swinging  her
off her feet, picked her up in his arms.
  'Richard-put  me down-stop.' Her slightly husky voice  rose  to  a
higher note in a breathless gasp of protest.
  'Not until you kiss me.'
  'All right.'
  He  let her slide down to her feet, and although he was not a tall
man,  she was so diminutive that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach
her arms round his neck.
  'There,'  she  declared,  a  trifle  breathlessly,  after  he  had
crushed her soft lips under his. 'Now go and play with your bottles,
but  spare the Lafite, beloved. That's our own special wine, and you
mustn't  even give it to our dearest friends- unless it's for  Simon
and he's really ill.
  'I  won't,' he promised. 'But whatever I give them, we  shall  all
be  tight  if  we're not to be allowed to eat anything.  I  wish  to
goodness I knew what De Richleau is driving at.'
  'Something  it is worth our while to take notice of,  you  may  be
certain. Greyeyes never does anything without a purpose. He's a wily
old fox if ever there was one in this world.'
  'Yes-wily's  the  word,' Richard agreed. 'But it's  nearly  lunch-
time  now,  and I'm hungry. Surely we're not going to  take  serious
notice of this absurd telegram?'
  'Richard!' Marie Lou had curled herself up on the sofa again.  But
now she sat forward suddenly, almost closing her big eyes with their
long curved lashes. 'I do think we ought to do as he says, but I was
looking round the strawberry house this morning.'
  'Oh  were you!' He suppressed a smile. 'And picking a few  just'to
see how they were getting on, I don't mind betting.'
  'Three,'   she   answered   gravely.  'And   they   are   ripening
beautifully.  Now if we took a little cream and a little  sugar,  it
wouldn't  be  cheating really to go and have another  look  at  them
instead of having lunch-would it?'
  'No,'  said  Richard with equal gravity. 'But we have  an  ancient
custom  in  England  when  a girl takes a  man  to  pick  the  first
strawberries,'
  'But,  darling, you have so many ancient customs and  they  nearly
always end in kissing.'
  'Do you dislike them on that account?'
  'No.'  She  smiled, extending a small, strong  hand  by  which  he
pulled  her to her feet. 'I think that is one of the reasons  why  I
enjoy so much having become an Englishwoman.'
  They   left  Marie  Lou's  comfortable  little  sitting-room  and,
pausing  for  a moment for her to pull on a pair of gum-boots  which
came  almost  up  to her knees while Richard gave orders  cancelling
their luncheon, went out into the garden through the great octagonal
Library.
  The  house  was a rambling old mansion, parts of which dated  back
to  the thirteenth century, and the Library, being one of the oldest
portions of it, was sunk into the ground so that they had to  go  up
half  a  dozen steps from its french windows on to the long  terrace
which ran the whole length of the
  southern side of the house.
  A  grey  stone balustrade patched with moss and lichens  separated
the  terrace from the garden, and from the former two sets of  steps
led  down  to  a  broad, velvety lawn. An ancient cedar  graced  the
greensward  towards the east end of the mansion  where  the  kitchen
quarters  lay, hiding the roofs of the glass-houses and  the  walled
garden with its espaliered peach and nectarine trees.
  At  the  bottom  of  the lawn tall yew hedges shut  in  the  outer
circle  of  the  maze,  beyond which lay the  rose  garden  and  the
swimming-pool. To the right, just visible from the library  windows,
a  gravel walk separated the lawn from a gently sloping bank, called
the  Botticelli Garden. It was so named because in spring it had all
the  beauty of the Italian master's paintings. Dwarf trees of apple,
plum,  and cherry, standing no more than six feet high and separated
by  ten yards or more from each other, stood covered with white  and
pink  blossom  while, rising from the grass up  the  shelving  bank,
clumps  of polyanthus, pheasant's-eye narcissus, forget-me-nots  and
daffodils were planted one to the square yard.
  This  spring  garden was in full bloom now and the effect  of  the
bright  colours  against the delicate green of the young  grass  was
almost incredibly lovely. To walk up and down that two hundred  yard
stretch  of  green starred by its rnany-hued clumps of flowers  with
Richard  beside her was, Marie Lou thought -sometimes with a  little
feeling  of  anxiety that her present happiness  was  too  great  to
last-as  near  to Heaven as she would ever get. Yet she  spent  even
more time in the long walk that lay beyond it, for that was her own,
in  which  the  head  gardener was never allowed  to  interfere.  It
consisted of two glorious herbaceous borders rising to steep  hedges
on  either side, and ending at an old sun-dial beyond which lay  the
pond  garden,  modelled  from  that at  Hampton  Court,  sinking  in
rectangular  stages to a pool where, later in the year,  blue  lotus
flowers and white water-lilies floated serenely in the sunshine.
  As  they  came  out  on  to the terrace,  there  were  shrieks  of
'Mummy-Mummy,'  and a diminutive copy of Marie  Lou,  dressed  in  a
Russian  peasant  costume with wide puffed sleeves  of  lawn  and  a
slashed  vest  of  colourful embroidery  threaded  with  gold,  came
hurtling across the grass. Her mother and father went down the steps
of  the  terrace  to  meet  her, and as she  arrived  like  a  small
whirlwind Richard swung her up shoulder high in his arms.
  'What  is  it  Fleur  d'amour?' he asked, with simulated  concern,
calling her by the nick-name that he had invented for her. 'Have you
crashed  the scooter again or is it that Nanny's been a wicked  girl
today?'
  'No-no,' the child cried, her blue eyes, seeming enormous in  that
tiny face, opened wide with concern. 'Jim's hurted his-self.'
  'Has  he?'  Richard  put her down. 'Poor Jim. We  must  see  about
this.
  'He's  hurted  bad,'  Fleur went on, tugging  impulsively  at  her
mother's skirt. 'He's cutted hisself on his magic sword.'
  'Dear  me,' Marie Lou ran her ringers through Fleur's dark  curls.
She  knew  that by 'magic sword' Fleur meant the gardener's  scythe,
for Richard always insisted that the lawn at Cardinals Folly was too
old  and  too fine to be ruined by a mowing machine, and  maintained
the  ancient practice of having it scythe-cut. 'Where is he now,  my
sweet?'
  'Nanny  binded  him up and I helped a lot. Then he went  wound  to
the kitchen.'
  'And  you  weren't  frightened of the blood?' Richard  asked  with
interest.
  Fleur  shook her curly head. 'No. Fleur's not to be frightened  of
anyfink, Mummy says. Why would I be frightened of theblug?'
  'Silly  people are sometimes,' her father replied. 'But not people
who know things like Mummy and you and I.'
  At  that moment Fleur's nurse joined them. She had heard the  last
part of the conversation. 'It's nothing serious, madam,' she assured
Marie Lou. 'Jim was sharpening his scythe and the hone slipped,  but
he only cut his finger.'
  'But fink if he can't work,' Fleur interjected in a high treble.
  'Why?' asked her father gravely.
  'He's poor,' announced the child after a solemn interval for  deep
thought. 'He-has-to-work-to-keep-his-children. So if he can't  work,
he'll be in a muddle-won't he?'
  Richard   and   Marie Lou exchanged a  smiling glance  as  Simon's
expression  for  any sort of trouble came so glibly to  the  child's
lips.
  'Yes,  that's a serious matter,' her father agreed gravely.  'What
are we going to do about it?'
  'We mus' all give him somefink,' Fleur announced breathlessly.
  'Well, say I give him half-a-crown,' Richard suggested. 'How  much
do you think you can afford?'
  Til give half-a-cwown too.' Fleur was nothing if not generous.
  'But have you got it, Batuskha?' inquired her mother?
  Fleur  thought  for  a bit, and then said doubtfully:  'P'r'aps  I
haven't. So I'll give him a ha'-penny instead.'
  'That's splendid, darling, and I'll contribute a shilling,'  Marie
Lou  declared.  That  makes three shillings and  sixpence  halfpenny
altogether, doesn't it?'
  'But  Nanny  must give somefink,' declared Fleur suddenly  turning
on  her  nurse, who smiling said that she thought she  could  manage
fourpence.
  'There,' laughed Richard. 'Three and tenpence halfpenny! He'll  be
a  rich  man  for life, won't he? Now you had better  toddle  in  to
lunch.'
  This  domestic crisis having been satisfactorily settled,  Richard
and  Marie Lou strolled along beneath the balustraded terrace,  past
the  low branches of the old cedar, and so to the hot-houses.  Their
butler, Malin, had just arrived with sugar and fresh cream, and  for
half an hour they made a merry meal of the early strawberries.
  They  had  hardly finished when, to their surprise, since  it  was
barely two o'clock, Malin returned to announce the arrival of  their
guests. So they hurried back to the house.
  'There  they are,' cried Marie Lou as the three friends  came  out
from  the tall windows of the drawing-room on to the terrace.  'But,
darling, look at Simon-they have gone mad.'
  Well  might  the Batons think so from Simon's grotesque appearance
in  shorts,  cycling cape and the absurd mauve and orange cricketing
cap.  Hurried greetings were soon exchanged and the whole party went
back into the drawing-room.
  'Greyeyes,  darling,' Marie Lou exclaimed as she stood  on  tiptoe
again to kiss De Richleau's lean cheek. 'We had your telegram and we
are  dying  to know what it's all about. Have our servants conspired
to poison us or what?'
  'What,' smiled De Richleau. 'Definitely what, Princess. We have  a
very  strange story to tell you, and I was most anxious  you  should
avoid eating any meat for today at all events.'
  Richard moved towards the bell. 'Well, we're not debarred  from  a
glass of your favourite sherry, I trust.'
  The  Duke held up a restraining hand. 'I'm afraid we are. None  of
us must touch alcohol under any circumstances at present.'
  'Good  God!' Richard exclaimed. 'You don't mean that-  you  can't.
You have gone crazy!'
  'I do,' the Duke assured him with a smile. 'Quite seriously.'
  'We're  in  a muddle-a nasty muddle,' Simon added with  a  twisted
grin.
  'So  it appears,' Richard laughed, a trifle uneasily. He was quite
staggered  by  the  strange appearance of  his  friends,  the  tense
electric atmosphere which they had brought into the house with them,
and  the  unnatural way in which they stood about-speaking  only  in
short jerky, sentences.
  He  glanced  at  Rex,  usually so full of gaiety,  standing  huge,
gloomy and silent near the door, then he turned suddenly back to the
Duke and demanded: 'What is Simon doing in that absurd get-up? If it
was  the  right season for it I should imagine that he was competing
for the fool's prize at the Three Arts' Ball.'
  'I   can  quite  understand  your  amazement,'  the  Duke  replied
quietly,  'but  the  truth  is that Simon has  been  very  seriously
bewitched.'
  'It  is  obvious that something's happened to him,' agreed Richard
curtly. 'But don't you think it would be better to stop fooling  and
tell us just what all this nonsense is about?'
  'I  mean  it,' the Duke insisted. 'He was sufficiently ill advised
to  start dabbling in Black Magic a few months ago, and it's only by
the mercy of Providence that Rex and I were enabled to step in at  a
critical juncture with some hope of arresting the evil effects.'
  Richard's  brown  eyes held the Duke's grey ones  steadily.  'Look
here,'  he  said,  'I  am  far too fond  of  you  ever  to  be  rude
intentionally, but hasn't this joke gone far enough? To  talk  about
magic in the twentieth century is absurd.'
  'All  right. Call it natural science then.' De Richleau  leaned  a
little  wearily against the mantelpiece. 'Magic is only a  name  for
the sciences of causing change to occur in conformity with will.'
  'Or  by setting natural laws in action quite inadvertently,' added
Marie Lou, to everyone's surprise.
  'Certainly,'  the  Duke agreed after a moment,  'and  Richard  has
practised that type of magic himself.'
  'What on earth are you talking about?' Richard exclaimed.
  De  Richleau shrugged. 'Didn't you tell me that you got a  Diviner
down  from London when you were so terribly short of water here last
summer, and that when you took his hazel twig from him you found out
quite by accident that you could locate an underground spring in the
garden without his help?'
  'Yes,'  Richard hesitated. That's true, and as a matter  of  fact,
I've been successful in finding places where people could sink wells
on  several estates in the neighbourhood since. But surely that  has
something to do with electricity? It's not magic.'
  'If you were to say vibrations, you would be nearer the mark,'  De
Richleau replied seriously. 'It is an attunement of certain  little-
understood  vibrations  between  the  water  under  the  ground  and
something  in  yourself which makes the forked hazel  twig  suddenly
begin  to jump and revolve in your hands when you walk over a hidden
spring.  That is undoubtedly a demonstration of the lesser  kind  of
magic.'
  'The  miracle of Moses striking the rock in the desert from  which
the  waters gushed forth is only another example of the same thing,'
Simon cut in.
  Marie  Lou  was  watching  the Duke's face  with  grave  interest.
'Everyone knows there is such a thing as magic,' she declared,  'and
witchcraft. During those years that I lived in a little  village  on
the  borders  of the Siberian Forest I saw many strange things,  and
the  peasants went in fear and trembling of one old woman who  lived
in  a cottage ail alone outside the village. But what do you mean by
lesser magic?'
  'There  are two kinds,' De Richleau informed her. 'The  lesser  is
performing certain operations which you believe will bring  about  a
certain  result without knowing why it should be so. If you chalk  a
line on the floor and take an ordinary hen, hold its beak down for a
little  time on to the line and then release it, the hen will remain
there  motionless  with  its  head  bent  down  to  the  floor.  The
assumption  is that, being such a stupid creature, it believes  that
it  has  been tied down to the line and it is therefore  useless  to
endeavour to escape. But nobody knows for certain. All we do know is
that  it  happens. That is a fair example of an operation  in  minor
magic.  The great majority of the lesser witches and wizards in  the
part  had  no  conception  as to why their spells  worked,  but  had
learned  from  their  predecessors that if they  performed  a  given
operation a certain result was almost sure to follow it.'
  Rex  looked  up  suddenly and spoke for the first time.  'I'd  say
they were pretty expert at playing on the belief of the credulous by
peddling  a  sort  of  inverted Christian  Science,  faith  healing,
Coueism and all that as well.'
  'Of  course,' De Richleau smiled faintly. 'But they were  far  too
clever  to  tell  a  customer straight out that if  he  concentrated
sufficiently on his objective he would probably achieve it- even  if
they  realised  that  themselves. Instead,  they  followed  the  old
formulas which compelled him to develop his will power. If a man  is
in  love  with a girl and is told that he will get her if  he  rises
from  his  bed  at seven minutes past two every night for  a  month,
gathers  half  a dozen flowers from a new-made grave  in  the  local
churchyard and places them in a spot where the girl will  walk  over
them  the  following day, he does not get much chance to slacken  in
his desire and we all know that persistence can often work wonders.'
  'Perhaps,' Richard agreed with mild cynicism. 'But would you  have
us  believe that Simon is seeking the favour of a lady by  wandering
about in this lunatic get-up?'
  'No,  there  is also the greater magic which is only practised  by
learned  students  of  the  Art  who  go  through  long  courses  of
preparation  and  initiation, after which they understand  not  only
that certain apparently inexplicable results are brought about by  a
given  series of actions, but the actual reason why this  should  be
so. Such people are powerful and dangerous in the extreme, and it is
into the hands of one of these that our poor friend has fallen.'
  Richard  nodded,  realising at last that the  Duke  was  perfectly
serious  in his statement. 'This seems a most extraordinary affair,'
he  commented.  'I think you'd better start from the  beginning  and
give us the whole story.'
  'All  right.  Let's sit down. If you doubt any of  the  statements
that I am about to make, Rex will guarantee the facts and vouch  for
my sanity.'
  'I certainly will,' Rex agreed with a sombre smile.
  De  Richleau then told the Batons all that had taken place in  the
last  forty-eight  hours,  and asked quite  solemnly  if  they  were
prepared to receive Simon, Rex and himself under their roof in spite
of the fact that it might involve some risk to themselves.
  'Of  course,' Marie Lou said at once. 'We would not dream of  your
going away. You must stay just as long as you like and until you are
quite certain that Simon is absolutely out of danger.'
  Richard,  sceptical  still, but devoted to  his  friends  whatever
their  apparent  folly, nodded his agreement as he  slipped  an  arm
through  his  wife's.  'Certainly you  must  stay.  And,'  he  added
generously  without the shadow of a smile, 'tell us exactly  how  we
can help you best.'
  'It's  awfully  decent  of  you,' Simon hazarded  with  a  ghostly
flicker of his old wide-mouthed grin. 'But I'll never forgive myself
if any harm comes to you from it.'
  'Don't let's have that all over again,' Rex begged. 'We argued  it
long  enough in the car on the way here, and De Rich-leau's  assured
you  time and again that no harm will come to Richard and Marie  Lou
providing we take reasonable precautions.'
  'That  is so,' the Duke nodded. 'And your help will be invaluable.
You  see, Simon's resistance is practically nill owing to his having
been  under Mocata's influence for so long, and Rex and I are  at  a
pretty  low  ebb  after last night. We need every atom  of  vitality
which  we  can  get to protect him, and your coming fresh  into  the
battle should turn the scale in our favour. What we should have done
if  you  had thrown us out I can't think, because I know of  no  one
else who wouldn't have considered us all to be raving lunatics.'
  Richard laughed. 'My dear fellow, how can you even suggest such  a
thing? You would still be welcome here if you'd committed murder.'
  !I  may have to before long,' De Richleau commented soberly.  'The
risk  to  myself  is a bagatelle compared to the horrors  which  may
overwhelm the world if Mocata succeeds in getting possession of  the
Talisman-but I won't involve you in that of course.'
  This  Sabbat you saw ...' Richard hazarded after a moment.  'Don't
think  I'm  doubting your account of it, but isn't it just  possible
that  your  eyes  deceived you in the darkness?  I  mean  about  the
Satanic  part.  Everyone  knows that Sabbats  took  place  all  over
England  in  the  sixteenth and seventeenth  centuries.  But  it  is
generally accepted now that they were only an excuse for a bit of  a
blind and a sexual orgy. Country people had no motor bikes and buses
to take them in to local cinemas then, and the Church frowned on all
but the mildest forms of amusement, so the bad hats of the community
used  to  sneak off to some quiet spot every now and again  to  give
their repressed complexes an airing. Are you sure that it was not  a
revival  of  that  sort  of  thing staged  by  a  group  of  wealthy
decadents?'
  'Not  on  your  life,'  Rex declared with a sudden  shiver.  'I've
never  been scared all that bad before and, believe you me,  it  was
the real business.'
  'What  do  you wish us to do, Greyeyes dear?' Marie Lou asked  the
Duke.
  He  hoisted  himself slowly out of the chair  into  which  he  had
sunk.  'I must drive to Oxford. An old Catholic priest whom  I  know
lives  there  and I am going to try and persuade him to  entrust  me
with  a  portion of the Blessed Host. If he will, that is  the  most
perfect  of  all  protections which we could have to  keep  with  us
through  the night. In the meantime, I want the rest of you to  look
after  Simon.'  He smiled affectionately in Simon's direction.  'You
must  forgive me treating you like a child for the moment,  my  dear
boy, but I don't want the others to let you out of their sight until
I return.'
  'That's  all right,' Simon agreed cheerfully. 'But are you certain
that I'm not-er-carrying harmful things about with me still?'
  'Absolutely. The purification ceremonies which I practised on  you
last night have banished all traces of the evil. Our business now is
to  keep you free of it and get on Mocata's trail as quickly  as  we
can.'
  'Then  I  think I'll rest for a bit.' Simon glanced at Richard  as
he  followed the Duke towards the door. The nap we had at the  hotel
in  Amesbury after breakfast wasn't long enough to put me  right-and
afterwards perhaps you could lend me a decent suit of clothes?'
  'Of  course,' Richard smiled, 'Let's see Greyeyes off,  then  I'll
make you comfortable upstairs.'
  The  whole party filed into the hall and, crowding about  the  low
nail-studded  oaken door, watched De Richleau, who  promised  to  be
back  before dark, drive off. Then Richard, taking Simon by the arm,
led  him  up the broad Jacobean stairway, while Marie Lou turned  to
Rex.
  'What  do  you  really think of all this?' she asked gravely,  the
usual  merriment  of her deep blue eyes clouded by a  foreboding  of
coming trouble.
  He  stared  down at her upturned heart-shaped face from his  great
height  and  answered soberly. 'We've struck a gateway of  Hell  all
right,  my  dear, and I'm just worried out of my wits.  De  Richleau
didn't  give  you  the  whole story. There's a  girl  in  this  that
I'm-well-that I'm crazy about.'
  'Rex!'  Marie  Lou  laid her small strong hand on  his  arm.  'How
awful for you. Come into my room and tell me everything.'
  He  followed  her to her sitting-room and for half an hour  poured
into her sympathetic ears the strange tale of his three glimpses  of
Tanith  at  different times abroad, and then his unexpected  meeting
with  her  at Simon's party. Afterwards he related with more  detail
than the Duke had done their terrible experiences on Salisbury Plain
and was just beginning his anxious speculation as to what could have
happened to Tanith when Malin, the butler, softly opened the door.
  'Someone is asking for you on the telephone, Mr. Van Ryn, sir.'
  'For  me!'  Rex  stood  up