Death by the Mistletoe

by Angus MacVicar

  The three executioners, besides their more obvious employment, acted as messengers to other branches of the cult throughout the kingdom. Theirs was a dangerous and difficult existence; but it was often rendered easy enough by their remarkable hypnotic power, gained by repeated lessons from the priests. It has been learned, indeed, that this hypnotic power was possessed by all those who worked in the inner circle of the cult, save the body-servants; but those who possessed it to the greatest degree, with the exception of the High Priest and his lieutenant, Merson, were Na Luchd Bais. The rank and file of the priests, though they knew the secret, had few chances to practise on unwilling victims; but the executioners were able to do so on many occasions. And practice made perfect. Ordinary members of the cult had not, as a rule, this evil power.

  Later in the article James put forward a certain viewpoint.

  Had it not been that Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn, persuaded by the foreign envoy, overstepped the mark to a considerable degree on the evening of June 23rd, these men might have lived in the cave for many years without being discovered. They had blocked up the Mull and Bengullion entrances with huge stones, and the Kiel entrance was used only on very rare occasions — probably at night, when there was no chance of spies being near at hand. They had a plentiful supply of water seeping through from the bed of the Con, and air-shafts from the rocky Blaan Valley were numerous. Sewage problems were solved by the rivulets which flowed across the floor of the cave. Neither the sound of movements nor the roar of the engine could, it was found by experiment, be heard above ground, and the chance of a stray explorer reaching their inner fastness was extremely remote on account of the weird legend connected with the cave. The “well-meaning ones”, however, were well protected against such an emergency, a guard always being posted some distance down towards the Kiel entrance, and, as I have indicated, a “booby-trap” being constantly in readiness at the extremity of the “lobby” to deal with a wholesale invasion.

  *

  At this stage the editor of the Gazette had caused a plan of the cave to be inserted in the text. The drawing showed clearly the entrances at Lagnaha, Kiel, Bengullion and the Mull. It showed how the four separate branches converged almost at one point, the Lagnaha and Bengullion tunnels meeting at one end of the “lobby” and the Mull tunnel joining the alleyway practically opposite the side-cave in which the raiders had found Professor Campbell and Miss Dwyer. With a red line James indicated how, by a fault in the ground-rock, the Campbeltown sewer-system was connected with the Bengullion branch at a point some three miles distant from its junction with the main cave. The length of the central “lobby,” according to the plan, was four hundred yards, and its width varied from four feet at the Kiel end to eight feet at the opposite entrance.

  James, continuing with his article, quoted several well-known Scottish geologists, who, for once, were agreed in stating that this alleyway had been dug out in forgotten centuries by human agency to connect up the four different natural tunnels. Professor Campbell was of the same opinion, and it was his theory that the cave had been used thousands of years ago by Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn, and that the cult, on receiving an added power in the last eighteen months, had naturally replaced its leaders in their traditional headquarters. The Professor, however, did not even hint at the possibility of the Piper of Blaan having stumbled into the midst of the “well-meaning ones.”

  The concluding article in the series described vividly James’s own experience in the labyrinth.

  *

  While the throb of the dynamo continued, two men carrying blazing torches passed James, coming from the Lagnaha direction, and apparently proceeding towards the centre of activity in the inner caves. The glare of the lights prevented him from recognising them, and they took not the slightest notice of him as they strode on. Their arrival coincided with the stoppage of the engine.

  James, cramped, cold and utterly miserable, listened intently for distinguishable sounds, but though he heard constantly low murmurs of speech, he could make out none of the individual words. Presently, however, he was made painfully aware of his hunger by the strong aroma of cooking which began to emanate from the alleyway. The appetising smell of frying bacon added greatly to his discomfort, and he began to have a new idea of the meaning of torture.

  During his imprisonment he allowed his mind to dwell only on very rare occasions on the possible outcome of the revitalising of Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn. He hoped he was right in thinking that in other parishes where the cult had its branches the final unmasking of the members was assured. But here in Blaan, where the “well-meaning ones” had their principal stronghold, things at the moment looked utterly hopeless. There seemed nothing to prevent the leaders from holding their lesser Festival in the early hours of the following morning, according to plan, and then departing secretly from the parish, to renew their evil activities in some other part of the country, hidden again from the eyes of the authorities. And James was well enough aware that did the sacrificial purpose of the cult succeed on the morrow — even though in Blaan alone — it would add tenfold to the already alarming tension in Britain, and create the exact atmosphere desired by the foreign spies.

  He knew, too, that at one o’clock on the previous day — immediately before his visit to Lagnaha — no hint of the whereabouts of “The Glen of Adoration” had been discovered, the Professor had still been unwell, and the policemen had made little progress with the ordinary work of the murder mystery. Could any further discoveries be made before that night? It seemed impossible. But there was Merriman, who was working by himself, unknown to the “well-meaning ones” and their backers … Might he not possibly discover Mr. Anderson Ellis’s secret in time?

  He wondered further what they intended to do with himself; and every time the question occurred to him he thought of Eileen. And because he was young, because he loved her and because he was not cut out perfectly to be a hero, a lump would come into his throat on these occasions, and he would curse silently at his weakness. He strove desperately to find some ray of hope which might help to ease his personal plight. But he could think of only one … The police were bound to learn of his disappearance, and they would probably guess rightly that he had been taken to the cave; but they could do nothing to help him unless they became aware of the entrance at Lagnaha.

  And that possibility was an unlikely one. Even though his friends learned that he had visited Lagnaha, Mr. Anderson Ellis would have some plausible story to tell them, and they would not have the slightest grounds for suspecting him. But then there was the prophecy … It was a frail enough hope, indeed, and one on which he felt he had small reason to lean; but it was a straw at least for a drowning man. The Professor had believed in it implicitly. The Rev. Duncan Nicholson had believed in it. And throughout the week the strange refrain had constantly been running in James’s own mind: “A wanderer with a head of flame shall smile the evil prophets, and a fair, sleek-headed churchman shall raze their idols to the ground.” And it suddenly struck James forcibly — it had not occurred to him in this light before — that Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn themselves must also be aware of the prophecy, and were consequently a little afraid. Had not the white-robed man at Dalbeg cursed him, calling him “wanderer of the flaming head”?

  *

  As time wore on James fell into a kind of hazy stupor, and once or twice he had to exercise a great effort of will to maintain himself-in an upright position and so prevent his arms from being cruelly twisted.

  The hum of voices still continued in the living-quarters in the cave, and presently what seemed to be a crowd of men began to approach him. They were going in the direction of Lagnaha, and apparently they were carrying heavy objects, for their pace was slow and steady. There was a blaze of torches, and James was able to make out the leading figures in the group.

  Eight men altogether passed him, split up into companies of four, the members of each section carrying between them a heavy box. O’Hare and his gigantic companion — whom James afterwards cam
e to know as Barlow — were in front, carrying one box with the assistance of a bandy-legged little man and Muldoon. James was surprised to see the latter, for it was many hours later that he came to learn of that wizened-faced individual’s adventures during the week-end. The first two members of the following group of four were unknown to the editor of the Gazette, while the pair who brought up the rear were hidden in the darkness behind the glare of the torches. The smell of some kind of acid reached James’s nostrils as they passed.

  They were talking in low voices.

  “What do you make the voltage?” asked Muldoon of his companion, who must have been one of the electrical engineers.

  It was that question which decided James on the contents of the boxes.

  “A thousand volts … Same as last time.”

  James shivered. Two hundred and fifty volts were sufficient to ensure the death of a human being, though from ten thousand to twenty thousand volts were, he knew, employed in official American electrocutions. The two boxes must contain charged batteries, each one hoarding enough power to slay a man.

  “Plenty!” returned Muldoon, laconically.

  So they were preparing for the Festival already. To what lonely glen in Blaan were the batteries to be conveyed?

  During what James afterwards realised must have been the forenoon and part of the afternoon of Wednesday the cave was quiet. Only two of the eight men who had passed him, carrying the batteries, returned to the inner cave. There was more cooking, and then again deep silence.

  The darkness was intense, and numberless small animals — James thought they were rats — began to scuttle about his feet. The draught among his hair was cold and clammy, chilling him to the marrow of his bones. The pain in his arms, legs and side continually throbbed, and he felt that if he were left to stand there much longer he must sag forward and faint. He was hungry, but at the same time he imagined that he must have contracted some kind of fever, for his head was hot and he suffered greatly from thirst.

  Strange thoughts and fancies whirled through his mind, to the accompaniment of the sound of the running rivulets. Once he thought he saw Eileen coming towards him, dressed in a white tennis frock. He wanted to shout with laughter when she disappeared in a mist before his eyes. On another occasion he had a vision of the white-robed priest approaching him with upraised hands, and mouthing inaudible curses. And towards the end of the first part of his imprisonment he had the mad idea that Nicholson and he, “the fair, sleek-headed churchman” and “the wanderer with the head of flame,” were riding, riding, on two white horses to smite O’Hare and his companions.

  It was late on Wednesday afternoon when he jerked his mind back to realities. A small procession of men was approaching him from the Lagnaha direction. By the light of half a dozen torches he saw the thing which sent a lax feeling of despair throughout his tautened frame.

  To the other five rings beside him the “well-meaning ones” secured Major Dallas, Professor Campbell, Detective-Inspector McKay, Detective Sergeant Wilson and the Rev. Duncan Nicholson.

  CHAPTER XIV

  Like James, his five fellow-prisoners were bound only at the wrists; but their arms were attached similarly to the iron rings behind them, so that any quick movement would cause them pain. At first Major Dallas alone seemed to be aware that James stood alongside.

  One of the electricians was left to guard the captives. He had brought a low stool with him, and, after snapping on a dim electric bulb above the heads of his charges, he sat smoking Woodbine cigarettes and toying with a revolver. He took little notice of James and his companions. When they began to speak in low voices he made no objection. Their discussions, he imagined, could not now harm Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn.

  James, no longer alone in the clammy darkness, threw off to some degree at least the semi-stupor which had possessed him; but he still felt cold and slightly feverish. He saw that the others’ garments, with the exception of those worn by Professor Campbell, were in a badly dishevelled condition, and he came to the obvious conclusion that they had put up a stiff resistance before submitting to capture. Their expressions were disappointed and dejected.

  Major Dallas’s thin face was deadly pale in the shadowy light, and the waxed ends of his little moustache had a pathetic droop. His usually smooth flaxen hair fell forward in two ragged curves on either side of his high forehead. But his mouth was still set in a short straight line. The two plain-clothes policemen stared gloomily ahead, and the eyes of both were filled with hopeless hatred. McKay’s lean, dark face was streaked with blood from a cut above his left eye, and his hodden-grey jacket was split from neck to tail. One leg of his trousers was ripped at the knee. Wilson was in a scarcely better condition. His short, stocky form seemed to be bowed down with shame at his capture. His waistcoat was torn, and James learned later that while he stood motionless, tied to the ring, he suffered agonies from a sprained left arm. The Rev. Duncan Nicholson’s fair head was no longer sleek, and his usually stout and ruddy countenance seemed pale and strained. There were lines at the corners of his mouth which James had not noticed before; but the editor of the Gazette perceived again the cruel light in his eyes which had frightened Eileen. This time, however, there was an added bitterness …

  Professor Campbell had apparently been taken straight from bed, for he wore only a long dressing gown over a suit of pyjamas, and his bare feet were shod in carpet-slippers. His glance roamed aimlessly, and he stood, his mouth drooping, as if he were trying hard to understand the meaning of events. And there, in that childish brain, was hidden the secret of “The Glen of Adoration,” the secret which his friends had striven in vain to discover.

  “I thought you would be here,” said Major Dallas to James. They stood shoulder to shoulder. “How did they get you?”

  James explained, hiding nothing. But the Chief Constable did not blame him for his momentary weakness. Instead, he praised him for his presence of mind in giving no hint to Na Daoine Deadh Ghinn of the police preparations in other districts.

  “What is the time now?” James asked, when he had finished.

  “After seven o’clock — Wednesday evening. They will be holding the Festival in Blaan in just a little over five hours.”

  “Is there any hope?”

  “None that I can see.”

  “What about the — the tinker?” James did not refer to Merriman by name, for he realised that the electrician might overhear and become suspicious.

  “Haven’t seen him since Monday. What can he do? He’s all alone. And after all, his job is to locate GII — not to prevent the Blaan Festival from taking place.”

  “Can’t the police do anything?”

  “They don’t know where we are … Let me tell you what has happened, MacPherson. The ‘well-meaning ones,’ must have discovered that McKay and I were on the track of the secret entrance to the cave, and that Wilson was investigating the source of the letter which Allan had received. McKay and I suspected Lagnaha for the first time to-day, when we discovered the large amount of stores which were being used by the household. Ellis, however, had been doing the job of ordering with some cunning, spreading his purchases over a great many shops in Campbeltown. Only when we had compiled and compared lists of weekly orders from almost every establishment in the town did we arrive at our conclusions. Wilson, working at the question of the typewritten note, chanced on an answer this afternoon, when the three of us decided to visit Lagnaha, ostensibly on a friendly call. And the unfortunate thing is that we were in such a hurry to get to grips with the enemy that we did not think of warning McMillan and MacLean of our intention. We were all armed, you see, and confident of our ability to bluff Ellis into a false sense of security. If our suspicions were verified we intended returning to the town and mobilising the whole police force for an immediate raid on the house. But the laird was too wily for us. He must have known the purpose of our visit at once. We were shown into that sunless room — you must know it — by the deaf housekeeper. I saw Wilson open a t
ypewritten letter that lay on the table ready for posting, and I saw the light of triumph in his eye. And then Mr. Ellis himself came in. Wilson pocketed the letter, and we spoke casually of the Allan case for some moments. We had our backs to the bookcase, and they were on us — about seven or eight of them — before we could draw our guns. They tied us up, and some time afterwards the Professor and Nicholson were brought in.”

  “I was in Dalbeg at the time,” muttered Nicholson. “O’Hare, Muldoon and the other three men came. They overpowered the police outside and rushed us. I was quite unprepared, curse them!”

  “It is clear, then,” said James, “that they mean to hold the Festival, and then leave quietly for another part of the country.”

  As he spoke a sudden dreadful suspicion rose up like a spectre in his mind.

  “Nicholson!” he cried. “What of Eileen?”

  The young minister did not answer. It was quiet and still in the cave.

  “Nicholson!” shouted James, his voice echoing to the vaulted roof. “Tell me!”

  “She’s all right.” Nicholson’s tone was low and strained.

  “You’re lying! You’re lying, damn you! Tell me! Tell me, or, by God, I’ll kill you!”

  “Be quiet, you fool!”

  “Tell me! Oh, for pity’s sake, tell me, Nicholson!” There was no reply. James strained at the ropes on his wrists heedless of the pain which he caused himself. Their guard glanced at him curiously, but without much interest.