ng  at the thought of that ghastliness springing  upon
then- backs they turned with lightning speed to meet it, but  it
only lay there wobbling and crepitating with unholy glee.
  'Oh, God!' gasped Richard.
  The  masked  door  which  led up to  the  nursery  was  slowly
opening. A line of white appeared in the gap from near the floor
to  about  three feet in height. It broadened as the door  swung
back poiselessly upon its hinges, and Marie Lou gave a terrified
cry.
  'It's Fleur!'
  The  men,  too, instantly recognised the little body,  in  the
white  nightgown, vaguely outlined against the blackness of  the
shadows,  as the face with its dark aureole of curling  hair  be
came clear.
  The  Thing  was  only two yards from the child.  With  hideous
merriment it chuckled evilly and flopping forward, decreased the
distance by a half.
  With  one swift movement, De Richleau Sung his arm about Marie
Lou's  neck and jerked her backwards, her chin gripped  fast  in
the  crook of his elbow. 'It's not Fleur,' he cried desperately.
'Only  some  awful  thing which has taken her shape  to  deceive
you.'
  'Of  course  it's  Fleur-she walking in  her  sleep!'  Richard
started  forward  to spring towards the child, but  De  Richleau
grapped his arm with his free hand and wrenched him back.
  'It's  not,'  he insisted in an agonised whisper. 'Richard,  I
beg  you! Have a little faith in me! Look at her face-it's blue!
Oh, Lord protect us!'
  At  that positive suggestion, thrown out with such vital force
at  a moment of supreme emotional tension, it did appear to them
for  an  instant that the child's face had a corpse-like  bluish
tinge then, upon the swift plea for Divine aid, the lines of the
figure  seemed to blur and tremble. The Thing laughed, but  this
time  with thwarted malice, a high-pitched, angry, furious note.
Then  both  the child and that nameless Thing became transparent
and  faded. The silent heavy darkness, undisturbed by  sound  or
movement, settled all about them once again.
  With  a  gasp  of relief the straining Duke released  his  pri
soners. 'Now do you believe me?' he muttered hoarsely, but there
was not time for them to reply. The next attack developed almost
instantly.
  Simon  was  crouching in the middle of the circle.  Marie  Lou
felt  his body trembling against her thigh. She put her hand  on
his shoulder to steady him and found that he was shaking like an
epileptic in a fit.
  He  began to gibber. Great shudders shook his frame from  head
to toe and suddenly he burst into heart-rending sobs.
  'What is it, Simon,' she bent towards him quickly, but he took
no  notice  of her and crouched there on all fours  like  a  dog
until,  with a sudden jerk, he pulled himself upright and  began
to mutter:
  'I  won't-I won't I say-I won't. D'you hear-- You mustn't make
me-no-no-- No!' Then with a reeling, drunken motion he staggered
forward  in the direction of the window. But Marie Lou  was  too
quick for him and Sung both arms about his neck.
  'Simon darling-Simon,' she panted. 'You mustn't leave us.'
  For  a  moment  he  remained still,  then,  his  body  twisted
violently  as  though his limbs were animated by  some  terrible
inhuman  force, and he flung her from him. The mild good-natured
smile  had left his face and it seemed, in the faint light which
still  glowed  from the cornice, that he had become  an  utterly
changed personality-his mouth hung open showing the bared  teeth
in  a snarl of ferocious rage-his eyes glinted hot and dangerous
with  the glare of insanity-a little dribble of saliva ran  down
his chin.
  'Quick,  Richard,' cried the Duke. 'They've got him-for  God's
sake pull him down!'
  Richard  had  seen  enough now to destroy his  scepticism  for
life. He followed De Richleau's lead, grappling frantically with
Simon, and all three of them crashed struggling to the floor,
  'Oh, God,' sobbed Marie Lou. 'Oh, God, dear God!'
  Simon's  breath came in great gasps as though his chest  would
burst.  He  fought  and  struggled like a maniac,  but  Richard,
desperate  now, kneed him in the stomach and between  them  they
managed  to hold him down. Then De Rich-leau, who, fearing  such
an  attack,  had  had  the forethought to provide  himself  with
cords, succeeded in tying his wrists and ankles.
  Richard rose panting from the struggle, smoothed back his dark
hair,  and  said huskily to the Duke. 'I take it all  back.  I'm
sorry if I've been an extra nuisance to you.'
  De  Richleau patted him on the elbow. He could not  smile  for
his eyes were flickering, even as Richard spoke, from corner  to
corner of that grim, darkened room, seeking, yet dreading,  some
new form in which the Adversary might attempt their undoing.
  All  three linked their arms together and stood, with  Simon's
body  squirming at their feet, jerking their heads from side  to
side  in  nervous expectancy. They had not long to  wait.  Indis
tinct at first, but certain after a moment, there was a stirring
in  the blackness near the door. Some new horror was forming out
there in the shadows beyond the pointers of the pentacle-just on
a level with their heads.
  Their  grip  upon  each other tightened  as  they  fought  des
perately  to recruit their courage. Marie Lou stood between  the
others,  her eyes wide and distended, as she watched this  fresh
manifestation gradually take shape and gain solidity.
  Her  scalp  began to prickle beneath her chestnut  curls.  The
Thing  was forming into a long, dark, beast-like face. Two  tiny
points of light appeared in it just above the level of her eyes.
She  felt the short hairs at the back of her skull lift of their
own volition like the hackles of a dog.
  The  points  of  light grew in size and intensity.  They  were
eyes.  Round,  protuberant and burning with a fiery  glow,  they
bored into hers, watching her with a horrible unwinking stare.
  She  wanted desperately to break away and run, but  her  knees
sagged  beneath her. The head of the Beast merged into  powerful
shoulders  and the blackness below solidified into strong  thick
legs.
  'It's a horse!' gasped Richard. 'A riderless horse.'
  De  Richleau  groaned. It was a horse indeed.  A  great  black
stallion  and it had no rider that was visible to them,  but  he
knew  its terrible significance. Mocata, grown desperate by  his
failures  to  wrest Simon from their keeping, had abandoned  the
attempt  and,  in savage revenge, now sent the  Angel  of  Death
himself to claim them.
  A  saddle  of crimson leather was strapped upon the stallion's
back,  the  pressure  of invisible feet held  the  long  stirrup
leathers  rigid to its flanks, and unseen hands held  the  reins
taut  a  few inches above its withers. The Duke knew well enough
that  no human who has beheld that dread rider in all his sombre
glory  has ever lived to tell of it. If that dark Presence broke
into  the pentacle they would see him all too certainly, but  at
the price of death.
  The  sweat  streaming down his face, Richard held his  ground,
staring  with fascinated horror at the muzzle of the beast,  The
fleshy  nose wrinkled, the lips drew back, barring two  rows  of
yellowish  teeth.  It champed its silver bit.  Flecks  of  foam,
white and real, dripped from its loose mouth.
  It  snorted  violently  and its heated breath  came  like  two
clouds of steam from its quivering nostrils warm and damp on his
face.  He  heard De Richleau praying, frantically,  unceasingly,
and tried to follow suit.
  The  stallion  whinnied, tossed its head and backed  into  the
bookcases  drawn by the power of those unseen hands, its  mighty
hoofs  ringing loud on the boards. Then, as though  rowelled  by
knife-edged spurs, it was launched upon them.
  Marie  Lou  screamed and tried to tear herself from  De  Rich-
leau's  grip, but his slim fingers were like a steel  vice  upon
her  arm. He remained there, ashen-faced but rigid, fronting the
huge beast which seemed about to trample all three of them under
foot.
  As  it  plunged  forward  the only  thought  which  penetrated
Richard's  brain  was to protect Marie Lou, Instead  of  leaping
back, he sprang in front of her with his automatic levelled  and
pressed the trigger.
  The crash of the explosion sounded like a thunder-clap in that
confined  space.  Again-again-again,  he  fired  while  blinding
flashes lit the room as though with streaks of lighting.  For  a
succession of seconds the whole library was as bright as day and
the gilded bookbacks stood out so clearly that De Richleau could
even  read  the titles across the empty space where, so  lately,
the great horse had been.
  The  silence  that descended on them when Richard ceased  fire
was  so  intense that they could hear each other breathing,  and
for the moment they were plunged in utter darkness.
  After  that glaring succession of flashes from the shots,  the
little  rivers of light around the cornice seemed to have shrunk
to  the  glimmer of night lights coming beneath heavy  curtains.
They  could  no  longer even see each other's  figures  as  they
crouched together in the ring.
  The  thought  of  the  servants  flashed  for  a  second  into
Richard's mind. The shooting was bound to have fetched them  out
of  bed.  If they came down their presence might put an  end  to
this  ghastly business. But the minutes passed. No welcome sound
of  running  feet came to break that horrid stillness  that  had
closed  in upon them once more. With damp hands be fingered  his
automatic and found that the magazine was empty. In his  frantic
terror he had loosed off every one of the eight shots.
  How long they remained there, tense with horror, peering again
into  those  awful  shadows, they never knew,  yet  each  became
suddenly  aware that the steed of the Dark Angel, who  had  been
sent  out  from the underworld to bring about their destruction,
was steadily re-forming.
  The  red  eyes began to glow in the long dark face.  The  body
lengthened. The stallion's hoof-beats rang upon the floor as  it
stamped with impatience to be unleashed. The very smell  of  the
stable  was in the room. That gleaming harness stood  out  plain
and  clear. The reins rose sharply from its polished bit to bend
uncannily in that invisible grip above its saddle bow. The black
beast snorted, reared high in to the air, and then the crouching
humans faced that terrifying charge again.
  The  Duke  felt  Marie Lou sway against  him,  clutch  at  his
shoulder, and slip to the floor. The strain had proved too great
and  she had fainted. He could do nothing for her-the beast  was
actually upon them.
  It baulked, upon the very edge of the pentacle, its fore hoofs
slithering upon the polished floor, its back legs crashing under
it as though faced with some invisible barrier.
  With  a neigh of fright and pain it flung up its powerful head
as  though its face had been brought into contact with a red-hot
bar.  It  backed away champing and whinnying until its  steaming
hindquarters pressed against the book-lined wall.
  Richard stooped to clasp Marie Lou's limp body. In their  fear
they had all unconsciously retreated from the middle to the edge
of  the  circle. As he knelt his foot caught one of the cups  of
Holy  Water  set in the vales of the pentacle. It toppled  over.
The water spilled and ran to waste upon the floor.
  Instantly  a  roar of savage triumph filled the  room,  coming
from  beneath  their feet. The ab-human monster from  the  outer
circle-that  obscene sack-like Thing-appeared  again.  Its  body
vibrated  with  tremendous rapidity. It screamed  at  them  with
positively frantic glee. With incredible speed the stallion  was
swung  by  its  invisible rider at the  gap  in  the  protective
barrier. The black beast plunged, scattering the gutted  candles
and  dried  mandrake, then reared above them,  its  great,  dark
belly on a level with their heads, its enormous hoofs poised  in
mid-air about to batter out their brains.
  For  one  awful second it hovered there while Richard crouched
gazing upward, his arms locked tight round the unconscious Marie
Lou,  De  Richleau stood his ground above them both,  the  sweat
pouring in great rivulets down his lean face.
  Almost,  it  seemed, the end had come. The the Duke  used  his
final  resources,  and did a thing which  shall  never  be  done
except in the direst emergency when the very soul is in peril of
destruction. In a clear sharp voice he pronounced the  last  two
lines of the dread Sussamma Ritual.
  A  streak  of  light  seemed to curl for a  second  round  the
stallion's body, as though it had been struck with unerring aim,
caught in the toils of some gigantic whip-lash and hurled  back.
The   Thing  disintegrated  instantly  in  sizzling   atoms   of
opalescent light. The horse dissolved into the silent shadows.
  Those  mysterious and unconquerable powers, the Lord of Light,
the Timeless Ones, had answered; compelied by those mystic words
to leave their eternal contemplation of Supreme Beatitude for  a
fraction  of  earthly time, to intervene for  the  salvation  of
those   four  small  flickering  flames  that  burned   in   the
beleaguered humans.
  An utter silence descended upon the room. It was so still that
De  Richleau could hear Richard's heart pounding in his  breast.
Yet  he  knew  that  by that extreme invocation  they  had  been
carried  out of their bodies on to the fifth. Astral plane.  His
conscious brain told him that it was improbable that they  would
ever  get  back. To call upon the very essence of light requires
almost  superhuman courage, for Prana possesses  an  energy  and
force utterly beyond the understanding of the human mind. As  it
can  shatter darkness in a manner beside which a million  candle
power  searchlight becomes a pallid beam, so it can attract  all
lesser  light to itself and carry it to realms undreamed  of  by
infinitesimal man.
  For a moment it seemed that they had been ripped right out  of
the  room and were looking down into it. The pentacle had become
a  flaming star. Their bodies were dark shadows grouped  in  its
centre. The peace and silence of death surged over them in great
saturating  waves.  They were above the house.  Cardinals  Folly
became a black speck in the distance. Then everything faded.
  Time  ceased, and it seemed that for a thousand thousand years
they floated, atoms of radiant matter in an immense immeasurable
void-circling for ever in the soundless stratosphere-being  shut
off  from every feeling and sensation, as though travelling with
effortless  impulse five hundred fathoms deep below the  current
levels of some uncharted sea.
  Then, after a passage of eons in human time they saw the house
again,  infinitely far beneath them, their bodies lying  in  the
pentacle  and that darkened room. In an utter eerie silence  the
dust of centuries was falling . . . falling. Softly, impalpably,
like  infinitely tiny particles of swansdown, it seemed to cover
them, the room, and all that was in it, with a fine grey powder.
  De Richleau raised his head. It seemed to him that he had been
on  a  long journey and then slept for many days. He passed  his
hand  across  his eyes and saw the familiar bookshelves  in  the
semi-darkened library. The bulbs above the cornice flickered and
the light came full on.
  Marie  Lou  had come to and was struggling to her knees  while
Richard  fondled her with trembling hands, and murmured;  'We're
safe, darling-safe.'
  Simon's eyes were free now from that terrible maniacal  glare.
The  Duke  had no memory of having unloosened his bonds  but  he
knelt  beside  them looking as normal as he had  when  they  had
first entered upon that terrible weaponless battle.
  'Yes, we're safe-and Mocata is finished,' De Richleau passed a
hand over his eyes as if they were still clouded. 'The Angel  of
Death was sent against us tonight, but he failed to get us,  and
he  will  never return empty-handed to his dark Kingdom.  Mocata
summoned him so Mocata must pay the penalty.'
  'Are-are you sure of that?' Simon's jaw dropped suddenly.
  'Certain.  The  age-old  law  of retaliation  cannot  fail  to
operate. He will be dead before the morning.'
  'But-but,'  Simon  stammered. 'Don't you realise  that  Mocata
never  does these things himself. He throws other people into  a
hypnotic trance and makes them do his devilish business for him.
One  of the poor wretches who are in his power will have to  pay
for this night's work.'
  Even  as  he  spoke there came the sound of running  footsteps
along  the flagstones of the terrace. A rending crash as a heavy
boot landed violently on the woodwork of the french-windows.
  They  burst open, and framed in them stood no vision  but  Rex
himself.  Haggard, dishevelled, hollow-eyed, his face a  ghastly
mask of panic, fear and fury.
  He  stood  there for a moment staring at them as  though  they
were  ghosts. In his arms he held the body of a woman; her  fair
hair  tumbled across his right arm, and her long silk-stockinged
legs dangled limply from the other.
  Suddenly  two great tears welled up into his eyes and trickled
slowly down his furrowed cheeks. Then as he laid the body gently
on  the  floor  they saw that it was Tanith, and  knew,  by  her
strange unnatural stillness, that she was dead.


                               28

                           Necromancy

  'Oh,  Rex!'  Marie  Lou  dropped to her knees  beside  Tanith,
knowing that this must be the girl of whom he had raved  to  her
that afternoon. 'How awful for you!'
  'How  did  this happen?' the Duke demanded. It was  imperative
that he should know at once every move in the enemy's game,  and
the urgent note in his voice helped to pull Rex together.
  'I  hardly know,' he gasped out. 'She got me along because she
was  scared stiff of that swine Mocata. I couldn't call  you  up
this afternoon and later when I tried your line was blocked, but
I had to stay with her. We were going to pass the night together
in  the  parlour, but around midnight she left me  and  then-oh,
God! I fell asleep.'
  'How long did you sleep for?' asked Richard quickly.
  'Several  hours, I reckon. I was about all in after yesterday,
but  the  second  I woke I dashed up to her room  and  she  was,
dressed as she is now-lying asleep, I figured-in an armchair.  I
tried  to  wake  her  but I couldn't. Then I  got  real  scared-
grabbed hold of her-and beat it down those stairs six at a time.
You've just no notion how frantic I was to get out of that place
and  next  thing  I knew-I saw your light and came  bursting  in
here. She-she's not dead, is she?'
  'Oh, Rex, you poor darling,' Marie Lou stammered as she chafed
Tanith's cold hands. 'I-I'm afraid--'
  'She  isn't-she can't be!' he protested wildly. 'That  fiend's
only thrown her into a trance or something.'
  Richard  had  taken a little mirror from Marie Lou's  bag.  He
held  it  against Tanith's bloodless lips. No trace of  moisture
marred its surface. Then he pressed his hand beneath her breast.
  'Her  heart's  stopped beating,' he said after a moment.  'I'm
sorry, old chap, but-well, I'm afraid you've got to face it.'
  'The  old-fashioned tests of death are not conclusive,'  Simon
whispered  to  the Duke. 'Scientists say now that even  arteries
can  be  cut  and fail to bleed, but life still remains  in  the
body.
  They've all come round to the belief that we're animated by  a
sort of atomic energy-call it the soul if you like-and that  the
body  may retain that vital spark without showing the least sign
of life. Mightn't it be some form of catalepsy like that?'
  'Of  course,' De Richleau agreed. 'It has been proved time and
again  that the senses are only imperfect vessels for collecting
impressions. There is something else which can see when the eyes
are  closed and hear while the body is being painlessly  cut  to
ribbons under an anaesthetic. All the modern experimenters agree
that there are many states in which the body is not wholly alive
or  wholly  dead, but I fear there is little hope in this  case.
You see we know that Mocata used her as his catspaw, so the poor
girl  has  been forced to pay the price of failure. I haven't  a
single doubt that she is dead.'
  Rex  caught  his  last words and swung upon  him  frantically.
'God!  this is frightful. I-I tried to kid myself but I think  I
knew  it  the moment I picked her up. Her prophecy's  come  true
then.' He passed his hand over his eyes. 'I can't quite take  it
in  yet-this  and  all of you seem terribly  unreal-but  is  she
really  dead?  She was so mighty scared that if  she  died  some
awful thing might remain to animate her body.'
  'She  is dead as we know death,' said Richard softly. 'So what
could remain?'
  'I  know  what he means,' the Duke remarked abruptly.  'He  is
afraid  that  an  elemental may have  taken  possession  of  her
corpse. If so drastic measures will be necessary.'
  'No!'  Rex  shook his head violently. 'If you're  thinking  of
cutting  off her head and driving a stake through her  heart,  I
won't have it. She's mine, I tell you-mine!'
  'Better  that  than the poor soul should suffer the  agony  of
seeing  its body come out of the grave at night to fatten itself
on  human  blood,' De Richleau murmured. 'But there are  certain
tests, and we can soon find out. Bring her over here.'
  Simon  and Richard lifted the body and carried it over to  the
mat  of sheets and blankets in the centre of the pentacle, while
De Richleau fiddled for a moment among his impedimenta.
  'The  Undead,' he said slowly, 'have certain inhibitions. They
can  pass  as  human, but they cannot eat human  food  and  they
cannot  cross running water except at sunset and sunrise. Garlic
is  a  most fearsome thing to them, so that they scream if  only
touched by it, and the Cross, of course, is anathema. We will
  see if she reacts to them.'
  As  he  spoke he took the wreath of garlic flowers from  round
his neck and placed it about Tanith's. Then he made the sign  of
the  Cross above her and laid his little gold crucifix upon  her
lips.
  The  others  stood  round, watching the scene  with  horrified
fascination.  Tanith lay there, calm and still,  her  pale  face
shadowed by the golden hair, her tawny eyes now closed under the
heavy, blue-veined lids, the long, curved eyelashes falling upon
her  cheeks.  She had the look of death and yet, as De  Richleau
set  about  his  grim task, it seemed to them that  her  eyelids
might  flicker open at any moment. Yet, when the garlic  flowers
were draped upon her, she remained there cold and immobile,  and
when  the  little crucifix was laid upon her lips she showed  no
consciousness  of  it,  even by the  twitching  of  the  tiniest
muscle.
  'She's dead, Rex, absolutely dead, De Richleau stood up again.
'So,  my  poor  boy,  at  least your worst  fears  will  not  be
realised.  Her  soul has left her body but no  evil  entity  has
taken possession of it, I am certain of that now.'
  A  new  hush  fell upon the room. Tanith looked, if  possible,
even  more beautiful in death that she had in life, so that they
marvelled  at  her loveliness. Rex crouched beside her,  utterly
stricken  by this tragic ending to all the wonderful  hopes  and
plans which had seethed in his mind the previous afternoon after
she  had told him that she loved him. He had known her by  sight
for so long, dreamed of her so often, yet having gained her love
a  merciless fate had deprived him of it after only a few  hours
of  happiness. It was unfair-unfair. Suddenly he buried his face
in  his hands, his great shoulders shook, and for the first time
in his life he gave way to a passion of bitter tears.
  The  rest  stood by him in silent sympathy. There was  nothing
which  they  could say or do. Marie Lou attempted to soothe  his
anguish by stroking his rebellious hair, but he jerked his  head
away  with  a quick angry movement. Only a few hours before,  in
those sunlit woods, Tanith had run her fingers through his curls
again  and  again  during the ecstasy of the  dawning  of  their
passion for each other, and the thought that she would never  do
so  any  more  filled him with the almost unbearable  grief  and
misery.
  After  a  while  the Duke turned helplessly  away  and  Simon,
catching his eye, beckoned him over towards the open window  out
of  earshot  from the others. The seemingly endless night  still
lay  upon the garden, and now a light mist had arisen. Wisps  of
it  were  creeping down the steps from the terrace  and  curling
into  the room. De Richleau shivered and refastened the  windows
to shut them out.
  'What is it?' he asked quickly.
  'I-er-suppose  there is no chance of her  being  made  animate
again?' hazarded Simon.
  'None.  If  there had been anything there it would never  have
been  able  to  bear the garlic and the crucifix without  giving
some indication of its presence.'
  'I wasn't thinking of that. The vital organs aren't injured in
any  way as far as we know, and rigor mortis has not set in yet.
I  felt  her  hand just now and the fingers are as  flexible  as
mine.'
  De  Richleau shrugged. 'That makes no difference. Rigor mortis
may  have been delayed for a variety of reasons but she will  be
'as  stiff  as  a board in a few hours' time just the  same.  Of
course  her  state does resemble that of a person who  has  been
drowned,  in  a  way, but only superficially;  and  if  you  are
thinking  that  we  might bring her back to life  by  artificial
respiration  I  can assure you that there is not  a  chance.  It
would only be a terrible unkindness to hold out such false hopes
to poor Rex.'
  'Ner-you  don't  see what I'm driving at.' Simon's  dark  eyes
flickered quickly from De Richleau's face to the silent group in
the  centre  of the pentagram and then back again. 'No  ordinary
doctor  could do anything for her, I know that well enough;  but
since  her body is still in the intermediate stage there  are  a
few  people  in  this world who could, and I  was  wondering  if
you--'
  'What!'  The Duke started suddenly then went on in a  whisper:
'Do you mean that I should try and bring her back?'
  'Urn,' Simon nodded his head jerkily up and down. 'If you know
the  drill-and you seem to know so much about the great secrets,
I thought it just on the cards you might?'
  De  Richleau looked thoughtful for a moment. 'I know something
of  the ritual,' he confessed at length, 'but I have never  seen
it done, and in any case it's a terrible responsibility.'
  At that moment there was a faint sighing as the breeze
  rippled  the leaves of the trees out in the garden.  Both  men
heard it and they looked at each other questioningly,
  'Her soul can't be very far away yet,' whispered Simon.
  'No,'  the  Duke  agreed reluctantly. 'But I  don't  like  it,
Simon.  The  dead are not meant to be called back. They  do  not
come  willingly. If I attempt this and succeed it would only  be
by  the force of incredibly powerful conjurations which the soul
dare not disobey, and we are not justified in taking such steps.
Besides, what good could it do? At best, I should not be able to
bring her back for more than a few moments.'
  'Of  course, I know that; but you still don't seem to  get  my
idea,'  Simon  went on hurriedly. 'As far as Rex  is  concerned,
poor  chap,  she's gone for good and all, but I was thinking  of
Mocata.  You  were hammering it into us last night for  all  you
were  worth that it's up to us to destroy him before he has  the
chance  to  secure the Talisman. Surely this is our opportunity.
In  Tanith's present physical state her spirit can't  have  gone
far from her body. If you could bring it back for a few moments,
or  even  get her to talk, don't you see that she'll be able  to
tell  us  how  best to try and scotch Mocata.  From  the  astral
plane,  where she is now, her vision and insight are  limitless,
so  she'll be able to help us in a way that she never could have
done before.'
  'That's  different,' De Richleau's pale face  lit  up  with  a
tired smile. 'And you're right, Simon. I have been under such  a
strain  for  the past few hours that I had forgotten  the  thing
that  matters most of all. I would never consent to  attempt  it
for any other purpose, but to prevent suffering and death coming
to  countless  millions of people we are justified in  anything.
I'll speak-to Rex.'
  Rex  nodded despondently, numb now with misery, when the  Duke
had explained what he meant to try to do. 'Just as you like,' he
said  slowly.  'It  won't hurt in any way, though-  I  mean  her
soul-will it?'
  'No,'  De Richleau assured him. 'In the ordinary way it might.
To  recall the soul of a dead person is to risk interfering with
their  karma,  but  Tanith  has  virtually  been  murdered  and,
although it is not the way of the spirit to seek revenge against
people  for things which may have happened in this life,  it  is
almost a certainty that she is actually wanting to come back for
just long enough to tell us how to defeat Mocata, because of her
love for you.'
  'All  right then,' Rex muttered, 'only let's get over with  it
as quickly as we can.'
  'I'm  afraid it will take some time,' De Richleau warned  him,
'and even then it may not be successful, but the issues at stake
are so vital, you must try and put aside your personal grief for
a bit.'
  He  began to clear the pentacle of all the things which he had
used  the previous evening to form protective barriers, the holy
water,  the little cups, the horseshoes, placing them  with  the
garlic  and  dried mandrake back in the suitcase. He  then  took
from it seven small metal trays, a wooden platter, and a box  of
powered incense; and pouring a little heap of the dark powder on
the platter went up to Rex.
  'I'm afraid I've got to trouble you if we're going to see this
through.'
  Trouble  away,'  said Rex grimly, with  a  flash  of  his  old
spirit.  'You know I'm with you in anything which is  likely  to
let me get my hands on that devil's throat.'
  'Good.' The Duke took out his pocket knife and held the  blade
for  a  moment in the flame of a match. 'You've seen  enough  of
this  business  now to know that I don't do anything  without  a
purpose, and I want a little of your blood. I will use my own if
you  like  but  yours  is far more likely to  have  the  desired
effect,  since you felt so strongly for this poor girl and  she,
apparently, for you.'
  'Go  ahead.' Rex pulled up his cuff and bared his forearm, but
De Richleau shook his head.
  'No.  Your finger will do, and it will hardly be more  than  a
pin-prick. I only need a few drops.'
  With  a  swift movement he took Rex's hand and, having made  a
slight  incision in the little finger, squeezed out seven  drops
of blood on to the incense.
  Then  he walked over to Tanith and, kneeling down, took  seven
long  golden hairs from her head. Next he proceeded to form  the
mixture  of incense and blood into a paste out of which he  made
seven  cones,  in each of which was coiled one of Tanith's  long
golden hairs.
  With  Richard's assistance he carefully oriented the  body  so
that  her feet were pointing towards the north and drew a  fresh
chalk  circle, just large enough to contain her and the bedding,
seven feet in diameter.
  'Now  if you will turn your backs, please,' he told them  all,
'I will proceed with the preparation.'
  For  a  few  moments they gazed obediently at  the  book-lined
walls while he did certain curious things, and when he bade them
turn  again  he  was placing the seven cones of incense  on  the
seven  little  metal  trays,  each engraved  with  the  Seal  of
Solomon, in various positions round the body.
  'We  shall remain outside the circle this time,' he explained,
'so that the spirit, if it comes, is contained within it. Should
some  evil entity endeavour to impersonate her soul it will thus
be confined within the circle and unable to get at us.'
  He lit the seven cones of incense, completed the barrier round
about the body with numerous fresh signs, and then, walking over
to the doorway, switched out the lights.
  The fire was quite dead now, and the candles had never been re-
lit,  but  after a moment greyness began to filter  through  the
french-windows. The light was just sufficient for  them  to  see
each  other as ghostly forms moving in the darkness,  while  the
body,  lying  in  the circle, was barely visible,  its  position
being indicated by the seven tiny points of light from the cones
of incense burning round it.
  Simon  laid  an unsteady hand on the Duke's arm.  'Is  it-  is
it-quite  safe to do this? I mean, mightn't Mocata have  another
cut  at  us  now  we're  in  the dark and  no  longer  have  the
protection of the pentacle?'
  'No,'  De  Richleau answered decisively. 'He played  his  last
card  tonight when he sent the Dark Angel against us and  caused
Tanith's  death. That stupendous operation will  have  exhausted
his magical powers for the time at least. Come over here, all of
you, and sit down on the floor in a circle.'
  Leading  them over to Tanith's feet he arranged them  so  that
Rex and Marie Lou both had their backs to the body and would  be
spared  the  sight of any manifestations which might take  place
about  it.  He  sat  facing it himself, with Richard  and  Simon
either side of him; all five of them clasped hands.
  Then  he told them that they must preserve complete quiet  and
under  no  circumstances break the circle they  had  formed.  He
warned  them too, that if they felt a sudden cold they were  not
to  be  frightened by it as they had been of the  horrible  wind
which  had swirled so uncannily in that room a few hours before.
It  would  be caused by the ectoplasm which might be drawn  from
Tanith's body and, he went on to add, if a voice addressed  them
they  were  not  to  answer. He would do any talking  which  was
necessary and they were to remain absolutely still until he gave
orders that the circle should be broken up.
  They sat there, hand in hand, in silence, while it seemed that
an  age  was  passing. The square frame of the window  gradually
lightened but so very slowly that it was barely perceptible, and
if  dawn  was breaking at last upon the countryside it was  shut
out from them by the grey, ghostly fog.
  The  cones  of incense burned siowly, giving a strange,  acrid
smell,  mixed  with some queer and sickly eastern perfume.  From
their  position in the circle Richard and Simon  could  see  the
faint  wreaths  of smoke curling up for a few inches  above  the
tiny  points of light to disappear above, lost in the  darkness.
Tanith's  body lay still and motionless, a shadowy outline  upon
the thin mat of makeshift bedding.
  De  Richleau had closed his eyes and bowed his head  upon  his
chest. Once more he was practising that rhythmic, inaudible Raja
Yoga  breathing, which has such power to recruit strength or  to
send it forth, and he was using it now while he concentrated  on
calling the spirit of Tanith to him.
  Richard   watched  the  body  with  curious  expectancy.   His
experience of the last few hours had been too recent for him  to
collate his thoughts, and while he had so sturdily rejected  the
idea  of Black Magic the night before he would more or less have
accepted  the  fact of Spiritualism. It was a much more  general
modern  belief, and this business as far as he could see, except
in  a  few minor particulars such as the incense compounded with
blood,  was very similar to the spiritualistic seances of  which
he had often heard. The only real difference being that, in this
instance, they had a newly dead body to operate on and therefore
were  far  more likely to get results. As time wore on, however,
he  became  doubtful, for if their vigil had lasted  many  hours
this  one,  now  that  he  was  utterly  weary,  seemed  like  a
succession of nights.
  It  was  Simon  who  first  became aware  that  something  was
happening. He was watching the seven cones of incense  intently,
and  it seemed to him that the one which was farthest from  him,
set  at  Tanith's head, gave out a greater amount of smoke  than
the  rest.  Then  he realised that he could see  the  cone  more
clearly  and the eddying curls of aromatic vapour which it  sent
up had taken on a bluish hue which the rest had not.
  He  pressed De Richleau's hand and the Duke raised  his  head.
Richard too had seen it, and as they watched, a faint blue light
became definitely perceptible.
  It  gradually  solidified  into a ball  about  two  inches  in
diameter and moved slowly forward from the head until it reached
the  centre  of Tanith's body. There it remained  for  a  while,
growing in brightness and intensity until it had became a strong
blue  light. Then it rose a little and hovered in the air  above
her,  so  that by its glow they could clearly see the curves  of
her  figure  and her pale, beautiful face, lit by  that  strange
radiance.
  Intensely  alert now, they sat still and watchful,  until  the
ball  of  light began to lose colour and diffuse itself  over  a
wider area. The smoke of the incense wreathed up towards it from
the  seven  metal  platters, and it seemed to gather  this  into
itself,  forming from it the vague outline of a head  and  shoul
ders,  still  cloudy  and  transparent but,  after  another  few
moments,  definitely recognisable as an outline of the  bust  of
the figure which lay motionless beneath it.
  With  pounding  hearts they watched for new developments,  and
now  it  seemed  that  the whole process of materialisation  was
hurried  forward  in a few seconds. The bust joined  itself,  by
throwing out a shadowy torso, to the hips of the dead body,  the
face  and shoulders solidified until the features were distinct,
and the whole became surrounded by an aureole of light.
  Upon the strained silence there came the faintest whisper of a
voice:
  'You called me. I am here.'
  'Are you in truth, Tanith?' De Richleau asked softly.
  'I am.'
  'Do you acknowledge our Lord Jesus Christ?'
  'I do.'
  A  sigh  of  relief escaped De Richleau, for he knew  that  no
impersonating  elemental would ever dare to testify  in  such  a
manner, and he proceeded quietly:
  'Do  you  come here of your own free will, or do you  wish  to
depart?'
  'I come because you called, but I am glad to come.'
  'There is one here whose grief for your passing is very great.
He  does not seek to draw you back, but he wishes to know if  it
is  your desire to help him in the protection of his friends and
the destruction of evil for the well-being of the world.'
  'It is my desire.'
  "Will you tell us all that you can of the man Mocata which may
prove of help?'
  'I  cannot, for I am circumscribed by the Law, but you may ask
me  what you will and, because you have summoned me, I am  bound
by your command to answer,'
  'What is he doing now?'
  'Plotting fresh evil against you.'
  'Where is he now?'
  'He is quite near you.'
  'Can you not tell me where?'
  'I do not know. I cannot see distinctly, for he covers himself
with   a   cloak   of  darkness,  but  he  is  still   in   your
neighbourhood.'
  'In the village?'
  'Perhaps.'
  'Where will he be this time tomorrow? '
  'In Paris.'
  'What do you see him doing in Paris?'
  'I  see  him talking with a man who has lost a portion of  his
left ear. It is a tall building. They are both very angry.'
  'Will he stay in Paris for long?'
  'No. I see him moving at great speed towards the rising sun.'
  'Where do you see him next?'
  'Under the earth.'
  'Do you mean that he is dead-to us?'
  'No,  He is in a stone-flagged vault beneath a building  which
is  very  very old. The place radiates evil. The red  vibrations
are  so powerful that I cannot see what he does there. The light
which surrounds me now protects me from such sights.'
  'What is he planning now?'
  To draw me back.'
  'Do  you mean that he is endeavouring to restore your soul  to
your body?'
  'Yes.  He  is already bitterly regretting  that in his   anger
against  you he risked the severance of the two. He could  force
me  to be of great service to him on your plane but he cannot do
so on this.'
  'But is it possible for him to bring you back-permanently?'
  'Yes. If he acts at once. While the moon is still in her  dark
quarter.'
  'Is it your wish to return?'
  'No,  unless I were free of him-but I have no choice. My  soul
is  in pawn until the coming of the new moon. After that I shall
pass on unless he has succeeded.'
  'How will he set about this thing?'
  'There  is  only one way. The full performance  of  the  Black
Mass.'
  'You mean with sacrifice of a Christian child?'
  'Yes.  It is the age-old law, a soul for a soul. That  is  the
only  way  and the soul of a baptised child will be accepted  in
exchange for mine. Then if my body remains uninjured I shall  be
compelled to return to it.'
  'What are--'
  The D