A steep descent led him to the lakeside some distance from the quay, at a spot where the women washed clothes in the daytime. Curiosity led him to move stealthily along the bank, sheltering behind shrubs till he came to the deserted quay, from which all barges were removed during the night. There was no sign of life, and the calm waters of the lake showed no ripple.
As he waited, a faint sound struck his ears — the gentle sound of oars moving in the rowlocks, and the plash as they came from the water. It got nearer, and the dark form of a boat emerged from the gloom, showing no light. Three men were seated in the boat, a. rower and two passengers. Ronald hid himself quickly in the bushes and waited. The boat bumped against the side, and a man sprang out and looked round.
By the poise of the head and the figure Ronald recognised Carstairs. The other was an attendant.
The man in the boat rested on his oars, waiting for instructions. Carstairs bent to him and in a low voice said, “Go back. You must not be seen here. Cross when dawn is breaking, and we shall be here.”
The man grunted something in answer, and pushed off without further parley.
Carstairs turned to his companion. “Where have they taken her? You know the way. Quick — for we must not be seen.”
Like shadows they went into the darkness. There were other schemes afoot besides Ronald’s own that night.
So far — good. Carstairs would be on this side of the lake for some hours.
Without more ado Ronald crept into the water, delightfully cool to his burning head, the very exercise having a soothing effect on his strained nerves. He hastened, as the moon was glinting over the hills, and would soon turn the lake into a silver mirror.
To a strong swimmer like Ronald the distance was nothing, and he emerged carefully on the further bank, dripping but exultant.
He dared not try the great stairway, but crept up the hillside among the scattered trees on the side opposite to the dreaded grove. Above him the temple stood, and suddenly the moon shone clear on the white marble.
Nearer he crept, and now he stood within a stone’s-throw of the pillared temple, and still no sound broke the stillness.
He reached the pillars, and looked round. A white figure darted from behind a pillar, and the next moment she was in his arms, clasped tightly to his dripping shirt. A sob burst from her.
“You’ve come, Ron! Thank God you’ve come!” she said, clinging to him. “Nothing matters now.”
He saw her white, drawn face, pitiful in the moonlight, her lips half-parted. He bent his head lower, till his shadow crossed her face, and kissed her on the lips.
“My darling!” he said, all the agony of those weary months forgotten in the thrill of holding her to him. The perils which surrounded them, Carstairs, the direful monster in the wood yonder, and the uncertain future were blotted out in that divine moment when they knew they loved, without spoken word, and at last there was no obstacle — no barrier to their love.
She lay there unresisting — seeming to find in his strong arms a new hope and courage to endure.
Presently she drew away reluctantly.
“We must not talk here, and the time is short.” She took his hand, and led him under the shadow of the pillars to the curtain of the temple, now closed.
“Come inside — it is the safest place. No one goes to the temple at night time,” she whispered.
Within, all was dark, and they stood just inside the curtain, holding each other’s hands.
“You have come to me — I knew you would. Some day you must tell me all about it. Not now — there’s no time. But oh, the misery of all this! Many times I nearly took poison and ended it all, but I hoped on. Now I don’t mind — I have seen you.”
“Tell me, Di, darling,” he said, “why did you go with Carstairs?”
He did not doubt her, but wished to hear the truth from her own lips.
“Can’t you guess? He told me if I did not come with him, you would be murdered. It was your life at stake. And, of course, he told me nothing of this terrible place. He only said that I was by birth and right queen of this valley, and that if I came here I would be free to do as I liked. It was only a visit, he said, and when he told me that I was his sister, I trusted him entirely.”
“You did it to save my life?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes, Ron — and because — ” She hung her head.
“I know, dear. But you found out later.”
“My brother told me — yes,” she said simply.
She went on in a weary voice: “The horrors of this place! — you have not seen half yet . . .” A shudder shook her slender form. “Listen . . . I have much to tell you. I only learnt yesterday that Doris was here. My brother tells me nothing. One of my maids revealed it to me. There is grave danger — worse than you know. Ralph has been ill, they say. Virbius, my brother, believes it was a trick. He is to be the next — ” she paused.
“The next victim?”
She nodded her head, and wept silently.
“I am making you all wet!” he exclaimed, and the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them, but Diana recovered at the commonplace remark, and laughed.
“As if I cared! You swam across? I thought you would.”
“There is no immediate danger, is there?” he asked. “Not till the August festivities?”
“Yes — terrible danger. That’s why I had to see you.” She clung tightly to him, in panic fear, and spoke rapidly.
“‘The priests suspect something — I don’t know what. They ask why you are not treated as strangers always have been. That is their interpretation of the old prophecy — they can only think of blood and sacrifice. They have forced my brother to fix a day at once when you and Ralph shall be given up, and Doris offered on the altar as the virgin tribute, as they call it.”
“But I understood that Doris was devoted for some other purpose?”
“She was — but the prophetess has recovered, and has said strange things, telling of evils that are coming, and that sacrifices must be made. The day is fixed for next week — the day when I — ”
“Don’t, please, Di!”
She lifted her head proudly. “Have no fear. If the worst comes, I shall take the poison — it acts rapidly. In any case I am doomed.”
“I know. I have heard it all from Sinclair.”
“Sir Arthur! — is he here?” Her voice rang with a new hope.
“He is planning something — we must trust to him. But this sudden change?”
“My brother can do nothing. Some secret influence is at work.”
“Your brother! I can hardly believe that a fiend like that — ”
“Hush, Ron! You must not judge him hardly. “Think what he suffers. If he had never left this place, he would have become King of the Woods, as his ancestors have been. A pagan, but he has been in England. He does not believe in anything; all this is a mockery to him, but his pride makes him go on. He is a tortured, tormented soul.”
Ronald said no more — he would not argue the point, but held his own opinion of Master Carstairs and his dark dealings.
“I know you are to challenge the King of the Woods. Pray God you are successful! Listen carefully. You may only do so by special permission. The priests will go with you as far as the grove, and you must break off the Golden Bough before you fight, otherwise the priests will kill you. You must slay this brute and then bring his head to the temple. It all sounds very horrible, but everything here is ghastly. I wonder I have kept my reason.”
Ronald felt a quickening of the blood at the thought of combat — especially for Diana.
“You will be fighting for me,” she whispered, seeming to read his thoughts.
“Carstairs will consent?”
“He is most anxious. He wants me to be rescued from this brute.”
That was what he had told her, Ronald thought. “He is over on the other side?” he asked.
“Yes, that was why I could send for you. One of my little maids who is devote
d to me took the note. He has gone for some reason he will not tell me.”
A sudden intuition came to Ronald. “He has gone to see Doris. It is about the coming sacrifice.”
“How awful! He will bring her here — it is the custom. And I am to be the executioner.” Her voice failed her. “Never — never! They may kill me.”
“Trust to me, and to Sinclair’s plans. Don’t do anything rash till the very last moment. I must go, or I may be missed.”
She clung to him to the last moment close-held, till in a hot whisper he said, “Come with me — let’s fly somewhere and try and get away. I can’t leave you here. Better die in the mountains.”
She shook her head sadly. “You would not do it, Ron, and leave Ralph and Doris here.”
He ceased to plead then, and left her standing there in the temple, holding back the great curtain, the moonlight bright on her face. “Whatever happens, Ron, I love you — always.”
“Always, my darling,” he answered, and fled away, lest he should be unable to go.
The return journey was without incident. In his heart was a warm glow. A new hope was singing, despite the danger. He had seen her, spoken to her — that was enough.
He approached the house with caution, and entered the room. At first he thought Ralph was asleep or had gone out, but as he dropped the curtain behind him, a voice whispered: “Is that you, Ronald?” and a hand grasped his.
“Sinclair?” he whispered back.
“Disobeying orders, as usual,” Sinclair said, but his voice had no harshness in it now. “You have seen her?”
Ronald told him rapidly of the events of the night — and of as much of what Diana had told him as he cared to repeat.
He heard a chuckle in the darkness.
“Quite a business conversation, eh?” Sinclair commented. “Now for real business. Your visit has been most useful, and what you have told me bears out my own information. There’s something in the wind — the people are meeting in various houses and standing about in groups, talking. They are plotting something, and the priests, to conciliate them, have arranged for this ‘festival’ right away. There’s not a moment to be lost; we must force the issue. Demand an audience of Carstairs at once — he cannot refuse you. Issue your challenge in proper form — it is the very foundation of their cult. They will think you are going to your death, in any case, for you have to go unarmed. I dare not lend you a revolver — you must trust to your knife and your wits. The King must not be warned, so you may surprise him. Anyway, we are in a desperate plight, and must gain time.
“If you can kill the brute, you will be King in his place, and that may help. Leave the rest to me; but it will be touch-and-go at this short notice.
“The people are dead-set on sacrificing Ralph and Doris.”
Long and earnestly they talked, planning and counterplotting while outside a strange stirring was going on; lights were showing and crowds moved about in uneasy, stealthy groups.
Sinclair slipped away silently as he had come, and disappeared into the darkness.
The hour had come for the last grim struggle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE LAST GRIM FIGHT
Ronald faced Carstairs in the Temple of Diana, standing alone before the black altar.
The priests were ranged around the high-priest, robed in their vestments and seated in great semicircular stone chairs.
Everything must be done in order, for this was the most ancient and honourable of ceremonies. It had been so when a Roman emperor in a freakish humour had despatched a gladiator to Nemi to fight the King of the Woods.
Ronald stated his case. He had come from a far-distant country to match his strength with the Priest-King, for the rule of the people. He would obey the conditions imposed in the contest faithfully, he said, and would carry out, if successful, the obligations laid upon him.
Advancing to the altar, he handed the vellum document to a priest, who took it to Carstairs. At the sight of this, Virbius blenched and shot one look at Ronald which told him plainly that Carstairs had no idea of the existence of this talisman.
It was passed round, each priest fingering the vellum and nodding gravely.
He next handed up the signet ring for inspection, and a muttered conversation took place. In spite of the gravity of the situation Ronald smiled at the grave manner in which they inspected his ring, which evidently puzzled them.
At last he was bidden to retire while his application was considered.
He waited without, attended with his usual escort, till a message was sent bidding him enter.
In silence he marched up the full length of the great building, and bowed to the company. Diana was seated now at Virbius’ right hand, clad in white and girt with a cestus of gold-and-blue, with red threads running through it.
She rose to greet him, and in a calm voice questioned him.
“Stranger from afar, what induced you to come to the sacred land of Nemi?”
“The tale I heard of a beautiful goddess who might be won in combat, and of the Kingship of the Woods,” he answered gravely.
“And from whom did you hear this tale?”
“From him who sits by your side — Virbius the priest, who visited my country,” he answered boldly.
The eyes of all the priests were turned on Virbius in no friendly manner, but he remained unmoved.
“And do you swear by the Temple of Diana Nemorosis, and by the sacred grove that you are actuated by no sordid hope of gain, but for the sincere welfare of this people?” Diana gave him a warning glance from her clear eyes.
“I swear that the half was never told of your beauty, goddess,” he answered, “and that now I have seen you I am more ready than ever to do battle for thy sake.”
The answer seemed to please the aged priests, but Virbius interrupted in a fierce tone:
“Do you swear that if you prove victorious in the combat, you will never attempt to leave this valley, that you will honour the customs of our people, and never betray us to the people beyond the mountains?”
Ronald hesitated — it was a heavy oath to take.
In a gentle voice Diana interrupted. “The stranger would hardly have journeyed hither with much weariness and toil if he had any intention of leaving us. Besides, have you not told us that you yourself fetched him here to save our people?”
The blow was a shrewd one. Virbius must stand surety for him. It was a war of glances between them.
Diana slowly removed the cestus from her waist, and handed it to Ronald.
“See, I give my girdle into your keeping. It is a token of trust.”
Whatever hidden meaning the action denoted, its effect on the priests was magical.
“Enough.” An aged priest sitting on Diana’s left side spoke. “We accept the stranger — is it not so?”
All their hands were held up in token of agreement, and Virbius, with a sour face, assented.
One thing was quite evident to Ronald — that the power of the man was tm the wane. Perhaps it was because he, like his father, had left the valley; or for some other cause.
Anyway, he made no further protest. The assembly broke up, and Ronald was led out from the temple.
Then came a shock which staggered him. Instead of returning down the marble stairway, he was taken through the colonnade of pillars which formed a cloister at the side of the building, to a spacious chamber at the back. Here were the quarters where Diana dwelt with her attendants and Virbius with his priests. A wonderful garden stretched away to the dark woods, which covered the mountain slopes.
Carstairs entered quickly and dismissed the priests. He appeared disturbed and anxious, and the calm he always wore, was gone. There was a twitching round the mouth and in the eyes the look of a lost soul.
He spoke quickly in English.
“Now you’ve got your wish — make the most of your opportunity. For things are happening here I don’t understand. There is a current of unrest, and more — something has disquieted
the people. The priests have put forward the ceremony of the bethothal of the King without my authority, and it would have taken place this very evening but for your challenge. You have appealed to a law which even the priests dare not break. To-morrow night is fixed for the combat. Meanwhile, you remain here.”
Ronald shrank back, aghast.
“Here! Am I not permitted to join Ralph?”
A cruel smile showed itself on Carstairs’ lips. “No, I do not think you will see him again, except, perhaps, at the festival.”
“You fiend!” Ronald sprang forward. “You intend to murder him! And what about Doris — whom you visited secretly in the city?”
The two men stood facing each other, panting. “You know too much,” Virbius said coldly. “She also will serve her purpose. Meanwhile priests will guard you here till to-morrow night.”
He turned quickly and went through the curtain wall, from behind which two priests, armed with heavy knives, emerged.
So this was the plot in all its hideousness! Ralph and Doris were to be offered up to appease the people. He had seen, on his way to the temple, groups of people whispering in the streets, and furtive glances had been cast at him. The place was seething with some mysterious unrest. The whole population was in a state of fear, and nothing is more dangerous than a frightened sheep.
His guards were mild men, and would talk on any subject but this one about which he wished for information.
He learnt from them the reason why wood was never used in building. They were horror-struck at the very idea. All trees had life, and to destroy the tree except for sacrificial bonfires was sacrilege. Wood was only offered to the victim as the most sacred offering.
About the coming contest the priests would talk freely. They fetched him oil, with which they carefully anointed his limbs, and told him stories of the strength of the Priest-King to cheer him up. It appeared that when he had fought the father of Virbius he had broken the sword with his hands and then torn the throat from the unfortunate man. Before that, he had seized a man in sudden fury, in the market-place, and snapped his spine.
The Yellow Mistletoe Page 21
