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The Devil Rides Out

Page 4

by Dennis Wheatley


  ‘Apollonius of Tyana learned it in the East. The so-called Heretics whom we know as the Albigenses preached it in the twelfth century through Southern France until they were exterminated. Christian Rosenkreutz had it in the Middle Ages. It was the innermost secret of the Order of the Templars who were suppressed because of it by the Church of Rome. The Alchemists, too, searched for and practised it. Only the ignorant take literally their struggle to find the Elixir of Life. Behind such phrases, designed to protect them from the persecution of their enemies, they sought Eternal Life, and their efforts to transmute base metals into gold were only symbolical of their transfusion of matter into light. And still to-day while the night life of London goes on about us there are mystics and adepts who are seeking the Eightfold Way to perfection in many corners of the Earth.’

  ‘You really believe that?’ asked Rex seriously.

  ‘I do.’ De Richleau’s answer held no trace of doubt. ‘I give you my word Rex, that I have talked with men whose sanity you would never question, an Englishman, an Italian, and a Hindu, all three of whom have been taken by guides sent to fetch them to the hidden valley in the uplands of Tibet, where some of the Lamas have reached such a high degree of enlightenment that they can prolong their lives at will, and perform today all the miracles which you have read of in the Bible. It is there that the sacred fire of truth has been preserved for centuries, safe from the brutal mercenary folly of our modern world.’

  That sounds a pretty tall story to me, but granted there are mystics who have achieved such amazing powers through their holiness I still don’t see where your Black Magic comes in?’

  ‘Let’s not talk of Black Magic, which is associated with the preposterous in our day, but of the order of the Left Hand Path. That, too, has its adepts and, just as the Yoga of Tibet are the preservers of the Way of Light, the Way of Darkness is exemplified in the horrible Voodoo cult which had its origin in Madagascar and has held Africa in its grip for centuries, spreading even with the slave trade to the West Indies and your own country.’

  ‘Yes, I know quite a piece about that, the Negroes monkey with it still back home in the Southern States, despite their apparent Christianity. Still I can’t think that an educated man like Simon would take serious notice of that Mumbo Jumbo stuff.’

  ‘Not in its crude form perhaps, but others have cultivated the power of Evil, and among whites it is generally the wealthy and intellectual, who are avaricious for greater riches or power, to whom it appeals. In the Paris of Louis XIV, long after the Middle Ages were forgotten, it was still particularly rampant. The poisoner, La Voisin, was proved to have procured over fifteen hundred children for the infamous Abbe Guibourg to sacrifice at Black Masses. He used to cut their throats, drain the blood into a chalice, and then pour it over the naked body of the inquirer who lay stretched upon the altar. I speak of actual history, Rex, and you can read the records of the trial that followed in which two hundred and forty-six men and women were indicted for these hellish practices.’

  ‘Maybe. It sounds ghastly enough but that’s a mighty long time ago.’

  ‘Then, if you need more modern evidence of its continuance hidden in our midst there is the well authenticated case of Prince Borghese. He let his Venetian Palazzo on a long lease, expiring as late as 1895. The tenants had not realised that the lease had run out until he notified them of his intention to resume possession. They protested, but Borghese’s agents forced an entry. What do you think they found?’

  ‘Lord knows.’ Rex shook his head.

  ‘That the principal salon had been redecorated at enormous cost and converted into a Satanic Temple. The walls were hung from ceiling to floor with heavy curtains of silk damask, scarlet and black to exclude the light; at the farther end there stretched a large tapestry upon which was woven a colossal figure of Lucifer dominating the whole. Beneath, an altar had been built and amply furnished with the whole liturgy of Hell; black candles, vessels, rituals, nothing was lacking. Cushioned prie-dieus and luxurious chairs, crimson and gold, were set in order for the assistants, and the chamber lit with electricity fantastically arranged so that it should glare through an enormous human eye.’

  De Richleau hammered the desk with his clenched fist. ‘These are facts I’m giving you Rex-facts, d’you hear, things I can prove by eye-witnesses still living. Despite our electricity, our aeroplanes, our modern scepticism, the power of Darkness is still a living force, worshipped by depraved human beings for their unholy ends in the great cities of Europe and America to this very day.’

  Rex’s face had suddenly paled under its tan. ‘And you really think poor Simon has got mixed up in this beastliness?’

  ‘I know it man! Could you have been so intrigued with the girl that you did not notice the rest of that foul crew? The Albino, the man with the hare-lip, the Eurasian who only possessed a left arm. They’re Devil Worshippers all of them.’

  ‘Not the girl! Not Tanith!’ cried Rex, springing to his feet. ‘She must have been drawn into it like Simon.’

  ‘Perhaps, but the final proof lay in that basket. They were about to practise the age-old sacrifice to their infernal master just as your Voodoo-ridden Negroes do. The slaughter of a black cock and a white hen-Yes. What is it?’ De Richleau swung round as a soft knock came on the door.

  ‘Excellency.’ His man Max stood bowing in the doorway, ‘I thought I had better bring this to you.’ In his open palm he displayed the jewelled swastika.

  With one panther-like spring the Duke thrust him aside and bounded from the room. ‘Simon,’ he shouted as he dashed down the corridor. ‘Simon! I command you to stay still.’ But when he reached the bedroom the only signs that Simon had ever occupied it were the tumbled bed and his underclothes left scattered on the floor.

  Chapter 4

  The Silent House

  De Richleau strode back into the sitting-room. His grey eyes glittered dangerously but his voice was gentle as he picked the jewelled swastika from his servant’s palm. ‘How did you come by this Max?’

  ‘I removed it from Mr. Aron’s neck Excellency.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘He rang for me Excellency and said that he would like a cup of bouillon and when I returned with it he was sleeping, but so strangely that I was alarmed. His tongue was protruding from between his teeth and his face was nearly black; then I saw that his neck was terribly swollen and that a ribbon was cutting deeply into his flesh. I cut the ribbon, fearing that he would choke-the jewel dropped off, so I brought it straight to you.’

  ‘All right! you may go-and it is unnecessary to wait up-I may be late.’ As the door closed the Duke swung round towards Rex. ‘Simon must have woken the moment Max’s back was turned, pulled on a few clothes, then slipped out of the window and down the fire-escape.

  ‘Sure,’ Rex agreed. ‘He’s well on his way back to St. John’s Wood by now.;

  ‘Come on-we’ll follow. We’ve got to save him from those devils somehow. I don’t know what they’re after but there must be something pretty big and very nasty behind all this. It can’t have been easy to involve a man like Simon to the extent they obviously have, and they would never have gone to all that trouble to recruit an ordinary dabbler in the occult. They are after really big stakes of some kind, and they need him as a pawn in their devilish game.’

  ‘Think we can beat him to it?’ Rex asked as they ran down the staircase of the block and out into Curzon Street.

  ‘I doubt it-Hi, taxi!’ De Richleau waved an arm.

  ‘He can’t have more than five minutes’ start.’

  ‘Too much in a fifteen minutes’ run.’ The Duke’s voice was grim as they climbed into the cab.

  ‘What d’you figure went amiss?’

  ‘I don’t know for certain, but there is no doubt that our poor friend is completely under Mocata’s influence-has been for months I expect. In such a case Mocata’s power over him would be far stronger than my own which was only exercised, in the hope of protecting him, for the first time t
onight. It was because I feared that Mocata might countermand my orders, even from a distance, and compel Simon to return that I placed the symbol of Light round his neck.’

  ‘And when Max took it off Mocata got busy on him eh?’

  ‘I think Mocata was at work before that. He probably witnessed everything that took place in a crystal or through a medium and exerted all his powers to cause Simon’s neck to swell the moment he got into bed, hoping to break the ribbon that held the charm.’

  Rex had not yet quite recovered from the shock of learning that so sane a man as De Richleau could seriously believe in all this gibberish about the Occult. He was very far from being convinced himself, but he refrained from airing his scepticism and instead, as the taxi rattled north through Baker Street, he began to consider the practical side of their expedition. There had been eight men at least in Simon’s house when they left it. He glanced towards the Duke. ‘Are you carrying a gun?’

  ‘No, and if I were it would be useless.’

  ‘Holy Smoke! You are bats or else I am.’ Rex shrugged his broad shoulders and began to wonder if he was not living through some particularly vivid and horrible dream. Soon he would wake perhaps; sweating a little from the nightmare picture which De Richleau had drawn for him of age-old evil, tireless and vigilant, cloaked from the masses by modern scepticism yet still a potent force stalking the dark ways of the night, conjured into new life by strange delvers into ancient secrets for their unhallowed ends; but wake he must, to the bright, clear day and Simon’s chuckle-over a tankard of Pim’s cup at luncheon-that such fantastic nonsense should centre about him even in a dream. Yet there was Tanith, so strange and wise and beautiful, looking as though she had just stepped out of a painting by some great master of the Italian Renaissance. It was no dream that he had at last actually met and spoken with her that evening at Simon’s house, among all those queer people whom the Duke declared so positively to be Satan worshippers; and if she was flesh and blood they must be too.

  On the north side of Lord’s cricket ground, De Richleau stopped the taxi. ‘Better walk the rest of the way,’ he murmured as he paid off the man. ‘Simon’s arrived by now and it would be foolish to warn them of our coming.’

  ‘Thought you said Mocata was overlooking us with the evil eye?’ Rex replied as they hurried along Circus Road.

  ‘He may be. I can’t say, but possibly he thinks we would never dare risk a second visit to the house tonight. If we exercise every precaution we may catch him off his guard. He’s just as vulnerable as any other human being except when he is actually employing his special powers.’

  Side by side they passed through two streets where the low roofs of the old-fashioned houses were only faintly visible above the walls that kept them immune from the eyes of the curious, each set, silent and vaguely mysterious, among its whispering trees; then they entered the narrow, unlit cul-de-sac.

  Treading carefully now, they covered the two hundred yards to its end and halted, gazing up at the darkened mass of the upper stories which loomed above the high wall. Not a chink of light betrayed that the house was tenanted, although they knew that, apart from the servants, thirteen people had congregated there to perform some strange midnight ceremony little over an hour before.

  ‘Think they’ve cleared out?’ Rex whispered.

  ‘I doubt it.’ The Duke stepped forward and tried the narrow door. It was fast locked.

  ‘Can’t we call the police in to raid the place?’

  De Richleau shrugged impatiently. ‘What could we charge them with that a modem station-sergeant would understand?’

  ‘Kidnapping! ‘ Rex urged below his breath, ‘If I were back home I’d have the strong arm squad here in under half an hour. Get the whole bunch pinched and gaoled pending trial. They’d be out of the way then for a bit, even if I had to pay up heavy damages afterwards-and meantime we’d pop Simon in a mental home till he got his wits back.’

  ‘Rex! Rex!’ The Duke gave a low, delighted chuckle. ‘It’s an enchanting idea, and if we were in the States I really believe we might pull it off-but here it’s impossible.’

  ‘What do you figure to do then?’

  ‘Go in and see if Simon has returned.’

  ‘I’m game, but the odds are pretty heavy.’

  ‘If we’re caught we must run for it.’

  ‘O.K., but if we fail to make our getaway they’ll call the police and have us gaoled for housebreaking.’

  ‘No-no,’ De Richleau muttered. They won’t want to draw the attention of the police to then-activities, and the one thing that matters is to get Simon out of here.’

  ‘All right.’ Rex placed his hands on his knees, and stooping his great shoulders, leaned his head against the wall. ‘Up you go.’

  The Duke bent towards him. ‘Listen!’ he whispered. ‘Once we’re inside we’ve got to stick together whatever happens. God knows what they’ve used this house of Simon’s for, but the whole place reeks of evil.’

  ‘Oh shucks!’ Rex muttered contemptuously.

  ‘I mean it,’ De Richleau insisted. ‘If you take that attitude I’d rather go in alone. This is the most dangerous business I’ve ever been up against, and if it wasn’t for the thought of Simon nothing on earth would tempt me to go over this wall in the middle of the night.’

  ‘Oh-all right. Have it your own way.’

  ‘You’ll obey me implicitly-every word I say?’

  ‘Yes, don’t fret yourself…’

  ‘Good, and remember you are to bolt for it the instant I give the word, because the little knowledge that I possess may only protect us for a very fleeting space of time.’ The Duke clambered on to Rex’s shoulders and heaved himself up on to the coping. Rex stepped back a few yards and took a flying leap; next second he had scrambled up beside De Richleau. For a moment they both sat astride the wall peering down into the shadows of the garden, then they dropped silently into a flower-border on the other side.

  ‘The first thing is to find a good line of retreat in case we have to get out in a hurry,’ breathed the Duke.

  ‘What about this?’ Rex whispered back, slapping the trunk of a well-grown laburnum tree.

  De Richleau nodded silently. One glance assured him that with the aid of the lower branches two springs would bring them to the top of the wall. Then he moved at a quick, stealthy run across a small open space of lawn to the shelter of some bushes that ran round the side of the house.

  From their new cover Rex surveyed the side windows. No glimmer of light broke the expanse of the rambling old mansion. As the Duke moved on, he followed, until the bushes ended at the entrance of a back yard, evidently giving on to the kitchen quarters.

  `Have a care,’ he whispered, jerking De Richleau’s sleeve. ‘They may have a dog.’

  `They couldn’t,’ replied the Duke positively. `Dogs are simple, friendly creatures but highly psychic. The vibrations in a place where Black Magic was’ practised would cause any dog to bolt for a certainty.’ With light, quick, padding steps he crossed the yard and came out into the garden on the far side of the house.

  Here too every window was shrouded in darkness and an uncanny stillness brooded over the place.

  `I don’t like it,’ whispered De Richleau. ‘Simon can’t have been back more than a quarter of an hour at the outside-so there ought still to be lights in the upper rooms. Anyhow, it looks at if the others have gone home, which is something we must chance an ambush.’

  He pointed to a narrow, ground floor window. `That’s probably the lavatory, and most people forget to close their lavatory windows-come on!’

  Silently Rex followed him across the grass, then gripping him by the knees, heaved him up until he was well above the level of the sill.

  The sash creaked, the upper half of the window slid down, and the Duke’s head and shoulders disappeared inside.

  For a moment Rex watched his wriggling legs, heard a bump, followed by a muffled oath, and then clambered up on to the sill.

  `Hurt y
ourself?’ he whispered, as De Richleau’s face appeared, a pale blot in the darkness.

  `Not. much-though this sort of thing is not amusing for a man of my age. The door here is unlocked, thank goodness.’

  Immediately Rex was inside, the Duke squatted down on the floor. `Take off your shoes,’ he ordered. `And your socks.

  ‘Shoes if you like, though we’ll hurt our feet if we have to run-but why the socks?’

  `Don’t argue-we waste time.’

  ‘Well-what now?’ Rex muttered after a moment.

  `Put your shoes on again and the socks over them-then you can run as fast as you like.’ As Rex obeyed the Duke went on in a low voice. `Not a sound now. I really believe the others have gone, and if Mocata is not lying in wait for us, we may be able to get hold of Simon. If we come up against that black servant, for God’s sake remember not to look at his eyes.’

  With infinite care he opened the door and peered out into the darkened hall. A faint light from an upper window showed the double doors that led to the salon standing wide open. He listened intently for a moment, then slipping out stood aside for Rex to follow, and gently closed the door behind them.

  Their footsteps, now muffled by the socks, were barely audible as they stole across the stretch of parquet. When they reached _the salon De Richleau carefully drew aside a blind. The dim starlight was just sufficient to show the outlines of the gilded furniture, and they could make out plates and glasses left scattered upon the buhl and marquetry tables.

  Rex picked up a goblet two-thirds full of champagne and held it so that the Duke could see the wine still in it.

  De Richleau nodded. The Irish Bard, the Albino, the one armed Eurasian, the bare-upped man and the rest of that devilish company must have taken fright when he and Rex had forcibly abducted Simon, and fled, abandoning their unholy operation’s for the night: He gently replaced the blind and they crept back into the hall.

 

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