The man's hands began to tremble and he averted his eyes, but he did not speak.
Together John and C. B. advanced into the room. The latter said, `What my friend has told you is quite true, sir. At the moment your daughter is in prison. We are doing our best ...'
`In prison!' exclaimed the man, coming swiftly to his feet. Then his expression changed from one of surprise to disbelief. Suddenly he stretched out his hand, made the sign of the Cross and cried loudly
'Avaunt thee, Satan!'
John stared at him and muttered, `Good Lord! I believe he's mad.'
C. B. shook his head. `No, he's not mad. And he is Beddows all right. His attitude explains the mystery of all we've found in this house. Somebody is after him and he is scared stiff. That is why he has gone into hiding. The oubliette and the ape were to prevent his enemy paying him a visit in person; but there is something which terrifies him much more that that. He is afraid that some frightful monster from one of the lower astral planes may be sent to get his spirit. That’s why he has made this pentacle. He has locked himself up in what amounts to an astral fortress, and he doesn't believe that we are real people at all. He thinks we are evil entities sent to lure him from safety to destruction.'
Suddenly Beddows gave a defiant laugh, then cried, `And so you are ! Your cunning talk does not deceive me ! Get back to him who sent you
'Don't talk like a fool!' John snapped at him. `Surely you can tell real people when you see them? We're real and we're friends. You're the only person who can give us the truth about this whole awful business; and we've got to have it to help us in our fight to save Christina ... to save Ellen.'
`Liar! And spawn of the Father of Lies! Get back whence you came.'
`We are real flesh and blood, I tell you!' cried John angrily. `Since you won't believe me I'll prove it to you.'
As he moved forward to step into the pentacle, C. B. gave a warning shout. 'Stop! The shock may kill him.'
But his cry came too late. In a stride John had crossed the line of blue light, and was stretching out a hand to touch Beddows.
The wretched man's face became transfixed with terror. He threw up his arms, gave a piercing scream, and fell at John's feet as though he had been pole axed.
18
Within the Pentacle
Beddows had fallen flat on his face. His out flung right hand had knocked over one of the small vases that stood in each of the valleys of the pentacle; but his magical fortress had suffered no other damage and the big five pointed star still glowed without a flicker.
C.B.’s mind was racing with visions of an inquest and all sorts of awkward questions which might have to be answered; yet within a moment he had jumped forward to give John a hand. Together they turned over the limp body and got it up into a sitting position.
In the full light of C.B.’s torch the unconscious man's face looked an ugly sight. His head now lolled back over the edge of the tea chest, his mouth hung slackly open a dark cavern in his heavy blue jowl and the whites of his turned up eyes could be seen between half closed lids. John got his victim's pyjama jacket open and tore frantically at the buttons of the three vests beneath it. As he exposed a V of hairy chest, C. B. thrust his free hand into the opening, held it there a moment, then gave a sigh of relief.
`His heart is quite strong, and it doesn't look as if he had a stroke. I think he fainted from sheer terror. He'll probably be quite all right when he comes round.'
`Thank God!' John murmured. `From what you said I thought I'd killed him.'
Ignoring the remark, C. B. swivelled round, set the fallen vase upright, and picking up another poured from it about half its contents into the one that had been knocked over.
`What's the point of doing that?' John asked.
`To repair the breach in this astral defence work, of course.'
`Do you really think that herbs and horseshoes and candles can protect people from evil spirits?'
`Certainly I do; if they are arranged in accordance with the proper formula. There are natural laws which govern everything. These, although scorned and ignored by modern science, are just as potent in achieving their object as a radar screen, or the use of our latest inventions for dispersing fog.'
John glanced round a little nervously. `After the terror I felt in that crypt to night, I'm no longer sceptical about there being all sorts of horrors lurking in such a place as this; so it's a comfort to know you think this bag of tricks will provide an effective protection for us.'
`I'm not quite so worried about ourselves, as about him,' C. B. said, and he began to slap Beddows' face in an attempt to bring him round. As his slaps had no effect, he lowered the body into a more comfortable position and went on, `I don't think we've much to fear at the moment, but the danger to him will be acute as long as he remains unconscious.,
'Why should that be, since he is in the pentacle with us?'
`Because his spirit is temporarily out of his body. That will give his enemies the best possible chance to capture it. If they were quick off the mark when we broke the magic circle by entering it, and the vase was upset, they may have done so already. If not, I think there is a good chance of the restored pentacle protecting him. But I don't know enough about these things to be certain. All I do know is that in his present state he is ten times more vulnerable than we are; so it's obvious that if there are any evil forces in this room it is him they will attempt to destroy.'
`What ... what will happen if they succeed?'
`When he comes round it won't be him. The personality inside him will no longer be Henry Beddows. His body will have been taken possession of by a demon.'
`Just as you say occurs with Christina every night?'
`No. Far worse than that. She still makes sense. He will be permanently demented. Off his chump for good.'
`You are really convinced that evil spirits can drive people mad?'
`I haven't the least doubt about it. Ignore the Bible if you will, and scoff at all the records of such happenings in mediaeval times as based upon ignorant superstition. That gets you nowhere, unless you can account in some other way for certain types of loss of mental control that have afflicted great numbers of people from the earliest times, and still continue to do so. Most cases of lunacy are obviously due to physical causes; but any doctor will tell you that he has met with forms of madness which cannot be explained by any theory so far accepted by science; and most of the honest ones will admit that the symptoms in such cases tally with those described by the priests of all nations who have studied these things, as indications that the victim is “possessed of a devil”.'
John nodded. `I suppose in these days we are far too apt to discount the Bible; and if one believes at all, one can hardly refuse to accept the account of Christ and the Gadarene swine. Still, all that apart, it seems to me that we have good grounds for regarding this chap as a bit round the bend already. No one who wasn't would choose for a costume in which to sit up all night three suits of underclothes and pyjamas, instead of day things and an overcoat or anyway a good warm dressing gown.'
`On the contrary, the clothes he is wearing show that he understands what he is up against.' C. B. flashed his torch round the floor. `Look how thoroughly the whole place has been swept and garnished before the pentacle was laid out. That shows he was aware that elementals are helped to materialise by dirt and filth. Above all they are attracted by the impurities of the human body. When he decided to fortify himself in here he evidently took every possible precaution against bringing in with him anything that might aid the enemy. Soiled clothes of any kind, or cushions and rugs that had been in use, would do so; that is why he made do with such underclothes and bedding as he could take straight from the linen cupboard.'
`From the bristles on his chin it looks as if he has been sitting here for several days; but I suppose he must have left the pentacle now and again in the daytime.'
`Why? Were you thinking about his natural functions?'
`Yes. If you ar
e right about human impurities, his own would form a dangerous focus within the pentacle, and he could not possibly have controlled himself long enough to grow that beard.'
`An Indian fakir could; so could he if he is an expert practitioner of Yoga particularly if he has eaten very little. Each time he left the pentacle he would have to remake it to restore its maximum potency, and seeing the state he was in it is most unlikely he would leave its protection even for a few minutes, unless it was absolutely unavoidable.'
`He must practice Yoga then, otherwise .'
`No. He got round that problem another way.' C. B. was shining his torch down into the tea chest. More than half of it was occupied by a large metal container, and he added, `Look, I'll bet that thing is a form of Elsan specially fitted with an air tight lid.'
The only other things in the chest were two tins of dry biscuits and a dozen bottles, about half of which were still full of water. `I expect you're right,' John conceded. `Anyhow, you are about his not eating much.'
`He wouldn't dare to bring meat, game or fish into the pentacle and after a day or two even fruit might start to go bad.'
`He must have been mighty scared to shut himself up here and go on a prison diet.'
`Yes, scared stiff,' C. B, agreed, switching out his torch to economise its battery. `But what luck to have found him here. If only he is all right when he comes round, and we can get him to talk freely while he is so scared, we shall have solved the riddle of where Christina stands in all this.'
`We know that already. That devilish Canon is after her to feed her blood to his filthy homunculi.
'I mean we'll get to the bottom of the whole business we'll find out how she came under Copely Syle's influence in the first place, and what the tie up is between him and her father. I thought it might be blackmail, but there's more to it than that. Finding him in this pentacle shows that he, too, is an occultist of no mean order. I want to know if he is another Black who has quarreled with the Canon, or a White who has found the odds too much for him; and if either or both of them are associated with other practitioners of the Black Art. We know that the day after to morrow is the peak point of Christina's danger; and we have every hope now of keeping her out of their clutches till it is past; but we've got to think of her future too. Having been mixed up with these people, she is highly liable to get drawn in as a witch unless we can take steps to prevent it. Only by getting at the full truth can we hope to free her from their evil influence once and for all.'
John nodded. `Of course, we've got to do that somehow, or the way in which they are able to dominate her mind at night will continue to make her vulnerable at any time. But what is likely to happen if, when Beddows comes to, we find that he is possessed?'
`Then we are in for something extremely unpleasant,' C. B. replied grimly. `He will probably act like a raving maniac and attempt to kill us.!
'In that case we'll have no alternative but to knock him on the head.!
'If he becomes violent, yes. But he may resort to cunning, and by some plausible story attempt to lead us into danger.'
`What is the drill, then?'
`We'll give him his head for a bit. Fortunately the sort of elementals that get possession of humans are said to be of very low intelligence. They usually give themselves away; so we should be able to tell whether it is really Beddows who is talking to us or some horror that has got into him and is making use of his tongue. Anyhow, if we have any doubts there is one acid test we can apply.!
'What is that?'
`The little vases have Holy water in them. They would be pointless otherwise. I shall take a few drops from one and sprinkle it on him. Demons can't stand Holy water. If he is possessed, he will scream as though he had been scalded.'
Beddows still showed no sign of coming round, so they settled themselves beside him to await events. The glow from the blue ribbon that formed the star was sufficient to make large print readable inside the pentacle, or a few feet from it; but farther off the gloom thickened into almost complete darkness. Even now that they had been there for some minutes without the torch, so that their eyes had had a chance to become accustomed to the faint blue light, they could barely make out by it the dark beams and uprights in the white walls, while above them the great rafters were only vaguely discernible as strips of denser blackness in the black vault overhead.
As soon as they stopped talking they again became conscious of the uncanny silence that gripped the old house. Out on the landing the ape had ceased its scuffling attempts to free itself. C. B. was troubled for a moment by the thought that they might have suffocated the poor brute; but, tightly as its arms were pinioned, he felt sure that enough air would get up between the folds of the eiderdown for it to breathe. The odds were that its struggles had tired it out and it had dropped into a doze.
John tried to keep his thoughts on Christina, but they would slide away from her to the fact that the motionless body at his side was that of her father, and to the fantastic situation in which they had found him. It seemed unbelievable that a twentieth century industrialist should be mixed up with witchcraft and have shut himself up for days on biscuits and water in a pentacle as the only safe refuge from evil spirits. Yet that he had done so was beyond dispute.
From that it was only a step to imagining the sort of things he had feared to see while sitting there day after day and night after night. John closed his eyes, hoping to shut out from his mind the winged and crawling monstrosities that his memory of Breughel's paintings conjured up so vividly. The darkness of closed eyelids proved less conducive to such gruesome imagery than the pale light that hardly reached the walls. Nevertheless, he found that he could not keep his eyes closed for more than a few moments at a time. The urge to open them, to make quite certain that nothing was stirring in the shadows, proved irresistible. Each time he did so his glance wavered swiftly back and forth, probing anew the darkest corners of the room, seeking reassurance that no unclean denizen from the grim world of Eternal Night was forming in any of them.
There came a moment when he could have sworn that at the far end of the room from the door, where it was darkest, a humped thing like a big turtle had taken shape, and that the curve of its back was slowly undulating as it pulsed with malevolent life. Loath as he was to risk making a fool of himself by giving a false alarm, he had just made up his mind to attract C.B.’s attention to it when Beddows gave a loud groan.
It was an eerie sound in the tense stillness that held the lofty room. John, staring into the darkness, had his back turned. His whole body jerked at the unexpectedness of it, and he swivelled round as swiftly as if a glass of cold water had been poured down his spine. C. B. switched on his torch. As he brought it round to level it on Beddows' face, the beam cut the darkness at the far end of the room with a swathe of light. Swift as its passage was, John was in time to glance over his shoulder while it swept the floor. With a gasp of relief he realised that either he must have imagined the humped thing, or the powerful light had caused it instantly to disintegrate.
As the beam came round on Beddows they saw that his eyes were open and that he was licking his dry lips. He groaned again, made a feeble gesture as though trying to push the light away from his face, then struggled into a sitting position. John helped him up and C. B. lowered the torch a little. Neither showed the acute anxiety they felt, but the thought uppermost in the minds of both was how much hung on the next few moments. If Beddows was himself and sane, their journey to England should prove a hundred times worth while, as he must know the truth about the strange relationship between his daughter and the Canon; and, with his help, the tie could be broken for good. On the other hand, he might be possessed and, instead of helpful, highly dangerous.
His opening move on regaining consciousness was by no means reassuring. Thrusting them aside, he got to his knees and cried in a harsh voice
`Who are you? How the hell d'you get here?'
`My name is Verney,' replied C. B. quietly, `and that of my friend is Jo
hn Fountain. We mean you no harm: on the contrary ...'
`Why should I believe that?' shouted Beddows. `Anyhow, you'll admit now that we are real?' John cut in.
Beddows turned, glared at him and muttered, `I wonder ! I wonder!'
Oh come!' John put a hand on his shoulder; but he shook it off and staggered to his feet with the evident intention of jumping out of the pentacle.
C. B. caught him round the knees in a rugby tackle. Next moment he was sprawling full length on the blankets. As he attempted to rise John joined in, and between them they held him down flat on his back.
He was a powerful man and he struggled violently, but in spite of that they managed to keep him down. The very fact that they were able to do so inclined C. B. to suppose that he was not possessed, but simply a very frightened and angry man. So when Beddows stopped cursing from lack of breath, he said
`Now listen! You have got yourself into an unholy mess, and we are here to help you out of it.'
`I don't believe it!' Beddows panted. `I don't believe it! How did you get up here? Jutson or his wife must have let you in, and told you about the trap and the ape. In spite of all their promises they've sold me out to Copely Syle.'
`Oh no they haven't. We broke in.'
Beddows gave a sudden snarl. `If that's true I'll have the law on you.'
`No you won't. Not unless you are prepared to have a full description of how we found you to night come out in court. How would your shareholders react to that, eh? Can't you imagine the headlines in the papers: “Chairman of Directors found sealed in magic pentacle. Satanic rituals practised in Essex manor house,” and so on?'
`Damn you!' Beddows gave a mighty heave, and nearly succeeded in breaking away.
`Steady!' C. B. shifted his grip and pressed down with his full weight on him again. `Don't be a fool, Beddows. Just now you tried to hurl yourself out of the pentacle. That wouldn't be a very clever thing to do, would it? As long as you are inside it you are safe, but once you leave it all sorts of unpleasant things might succeed in getting hold of you.'
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