'No! No!' Charles shook his head. 'As you discovered, I waited on Maureen the first day I was in Dublin. She pretended great distress and told me the same story she had written to my mother. But she said she had been endeavouring to trace the girls, and that did I give her another day or two, she had hopes of succeeding. Obviously she needed the time to let Katie know that I had arrived in Dublin and make arrangements for my reception here. The third day of my stay she sent a message, bidding me to dinner. On arriving at her home I found her there with a repulsive priest named Father Damien. It was he who acted as Abbot at the Hell Fire Club in London. He told me that Katie had done him an evil, and he had quarrelled with her; so he was agreeable to take me that night to the place where she had the girls. It was a trap to get me here.
We made the journey by coach, arriving in the early hours of the morning. The boat was moored by the lake shore. As we got into it he told me he had bribed one of the servants to let us into the castle. When we reached the great door, he rapped a special signal on it, and it was opened by a huge negro named Aboe, who was another of Katie's assistants when she ran the Hell Fire Club.
'At that moment Father Damien seized my arms from behind. As you see, I was in uniform, so was wearing a sword and I had come with a pistol in my sash, Aboe deprived me of them both, then the two of them hustled me up a stone staircase to the newer part of the building, along a corridor, pushed me into a bedroom and locked me in. As soon as they had gone, I attempted to break out, but the door was too stout. Then I tried the windows but found that they were thirty feet above a ledge of rock lapped by the water. Had I dropped down I would certainly have killed myself.'
'Why then, since they had you securely imprisoned, did they transfer you to this dungeon?'
'Because I attempted to rescue Susan. You must have realised how deadly quiet it is here. On my third night in the bedroom, just as I was about to fall asleep, I caught the sound of sobs behind my bedhead. From the beginning I had been convinced that Susan was no witch, and had been brought here against her will, so it flashed upon me that it was probably she who was crying, and that as I could hear the sobs the wall between the rooms must be quite thin.
'Pushing away the bed, I went to work on the wall at once with the stout prong in the buckle of my belt. The wall proved to be only lath and plaster. After an hour's strenuous work I'd made a hole the size of a crown piece. It was Susan on the other side. Having heard my scraping, she had pushed aside her bed and was listening there, so replied immediately I spoke. That was how I learned all that had befallen her, and now I had found her I at once started to plan a way in which we might both escape.
'In addition to Father Damien and the negro, Aboe, who I gather acts as cook, Katie has two Irish peasants here. They are burly, wild-looking creatures, with beards and great mops of red hair, who speak no English. I call them Gog and Magog. One or other of them brought my meals and, as Susan was also locked in, hers also. We planned that she should be dressed ready to leave at the hour when our supper was brought to us the following evening. I'd hoped to overcome the man, get his keys and release her and that both of us might escape before anyone else in the castle knew what was adoing.
'But fortune was against me. I lurked behind the door until Gog came with my supper, and as he walked in carrying the tray I brought a milking stool that was in the room down on his head. It felled him, but I opine, the thickness of his hair saved him from being completely deprived of his wits. He was in bad shape, though, and having got my hands round his throat I could have choked him into insensibility.
'Alas, I had not counted on there being two supper trays. Magog had brought up Susan's. Hearing his fellow barbarian shout, he dropped his tray outside Susan's door, dashed into my room and hurled himself on top of me. Gog recovered sufficiently to roll from under us and I stood no chance against the two of them. In no time they had me lashed to the end of my bed, and locked in again. I was monstrous lucky to get off with no worse than a kick in the ribs and a black eye.'
Roger nodded. 'You were. And it was a gallant, even if ill-fated, attempt. What happened then ?'
'A quarter of an hour later the two brutes returned, accompanied by Father Damien. They untied me, hustled me along from that end of the castle to this, and pushed me down the shute by which you arrived.'
'And what has happened since ?'
Charles pointed up to where the cone-shaped walls of the cell seemed to meet above in the shadows. 'The shute is not the only entrance to die dungeon. Up there, immediately above us, is a round manhole. From time to time one or other of them opens it. By a stout rope with a hook on the end, they lowered this palliasse for me to sleep on, the big jar that contains water, and the other things you see here. And every morning they let down in a bag enough cold food to keep me in provender for the day.'
'And even books,' Roger commented. 'That, at least, is considerate of them.'
'Jemima sent them down, and from time to time comes to talk with me.'
'That little she-devil fooled me completely, and I still cannot make her out, nor the witch's interest in the two girls. The story Jemima spun to me was that for the acquisition of supreme occult powers, the use of a virgin's body was necessary. She then begged me to rescue her as well as Susan from this horror, yet tricked and made a prisoner of me.'
'She did so because she is devoted to Katie, and has naught to fear. Of that I am convinced.'
'What, though, of Susan?' Roger asked anxiously. 'Clearly she is no disciple of the witch. Why should they have drugged and brought her here ? Virgins are plentiful enough in this country, where the Church of Rome is dominant. They could, with ease, kidnap some peasant wench upon whom to perform their abominable ceremony.'
Charles shook his head sadly. 'Uncle Roger, I have been obtuse, and failed to make the situation clear to you. Doubtless these Satanists do, from time to time, perform a Black Mass; but 'twas not for that they invited my sweet Susan to Ireland, then drugged and imprisoned her. She was only the lure to get me here.'
'What the devil mean you ?'
'Jemima is determined that I should take her for my wife.'
'This is news indeed!' Roger exclaimed with a frown.
'Have you been having an affair with her? But, no; how could you, seeing you have been so long abroad.'
'I was to some extent embroiled with her before I voyaged to Spain. During the summer and winter before last I saw much of her. She is attractive, witty and a passionate young creature. Susan and I had always had an understanding that we would marry in good time; but, until we were ready to do so, we should amuse ourselves by flirting with anyone who took our fancy. I've never loved anyone but Susan and never shall. To me Jemima was no more than a gay companion. I studiously refrained from giving her any reason to believe that my intentions toward her were serious. But she set herself to get me if she could, even to the point of endeavouring to seduce me —a trap into which I was not foolish enough to fall.
'When I sailed for Spain’ I thought no more of her, but evidently she did of me and, with her mother and the witch, made her plans accordingly. That Katie has occult power I have no doubt. Foreseeing the fall of Napoleon - and that shortly after that I should return, they all came to Ireland ...'
'It was for quite a different reason that- the O'Brien woman left London’ Roger interrupted. 'But no matter. Continue.'
Charles shrugged. 'However that may be, it was on my account that Susan was invited to Dublin. In mid-March the witch must have learned from overlooking me that I was on my way back to England, so the time had come to spring their plot. When Susan had overstayed her visit, they forcibly detained her and brought her here. Meanwhile, Maureen Luggala had written her tissue of lies to my mother about the two girls having joined the witch's coven; knowing, of course, that directly I learned of it I would come over and attempt to get Susan back. I did, and fell into their clutches.'
Roger nodded. "Twas a devilish clever scheme, and I'm not surpris
ed that it succeeded. So this jade is now determined to keep you a prisoner until you agree to wed her. To have gone to such lengths, she must be nigh desperate with love for you.'
'Maybe she is. At least she finds me physically attractive. But that is not her only motive. She is also mightily ambitious and would fain be the Countess of St. Ermins. Still further, she wants money, and part of the price of my freedom would be a marriage settlement in which I make over to her my eighty thousand acre estate around White Knights Park.'
'The wench is no fool, then,' Roger gave a bitter laugh. 'She has the sense to realise that, having forced you into wedding her does not bind you to share your life with her. But for some such settlement you could have cast her off without even paying her a pittance. By these means she will net a great fortune.'
'Nay. She says she would keep the house and a sufficient income to maintain it. But 'tis her intent to sell by far the greater part of the estate and use the money to help the rebellious Irish who wish to free their country from
British rule.'
'That fits with what I learned in London of her mother and the O'Brien woman. By rights, both of them should have been arrested, condemned as traitors and now be in prison. They were acting as French agents and collecting information of value to our enemies.'
'Indeed!' Charles exclaimed. ‘I had no idea of that, but since my converse with Jemima this past week or so I'm not surprised to hear it. She makes it no secret that she is rabid on this question of freeing Ireland, and would stop at nothing to help achieve it.'
'Then let us hope she over-reaches herself and ends up in gaol. Fortunately, these fanatics are only a small minority, but they cause us a mint of trouble.'
'I judge you wrong there, Uncle Roger, in believing them to be only a small minority. I do not believe Jemima lied to me on that. The ordinary Irish are a backward people, and live greatly in the past. Although my Lord Essex's conquest dates back to Queen Elizabeth's time, and Cromwell's brutalities took place near two hundred years ago, the Irish think of them as having occurred only yesterday. Besides, as she argued, I think with justification, the Irish are just as much a different race from the English as are the Norwegians or Danes, and ...'
'And so, for that matter, are the Scots, yet they have become willing subjects of the Crown.'
'Ah, but their case was very different. Our union with them came about by a Scottish king ascending the English throne. Here we occupy a land to which we have no right but conquest. To be fair, in this matter we must regard Jemima as a patriot.'
'There is much in what you say about Ireland,' Roger conceded. 'So one cannot hold it against Jemima that she wishes to have her countrymen rule themselves. But it has. naught to do with the matter that immediately concerns, us. Do you intend to give in to her ?'
'I fear I'll have to in the end. So far I have hedged, hoping that some turn of fortune might occur which would enable me to escape, make my way to Dublin and swiftly return with troops to free Susan. Your sudden appearance here was the type of miracle I have been praying for; but, alas, it has proved abortive.'
'When your mother realises that I, too, have disappeared, I doubt not that she will come to Dublin, see the Viceroy and have him order the military to search for us. She will also have Maureen Luggala questioned. As the result of my talk with her she believes herself liable to be arrested and imprisoned, so it is most probable that, hoping to save herself, she will tell your mother where we are.'
Charles's eyes brightened for a moment, then he said dubiously, 'But is it likely she will arrive in time? Some days must yet elapse before she becomes sufficiently concerned about receiving no letter from you to decide to act, and then she'll have to make the journey from London to Dublin.'
'True. We can hardly expect her in less than ten days. But does that matter? You have been down here a fortnight, and if they had intended to starve you into submission they would have attempted that already. To have to remain cooped up here in this uncomfortable hole for two or three weeks is plaguey annoying, but we must be as patient as we can until Georgina comes to our rescue.’
'But you don't understand,' Charles burst out. 'Or perhaps I failed to tell you. There is a deadline, a time limit beyond which I dare not procrastinate. The hour Jemima would have me wed her has already been fixed by she.
Tis midnight on the 30th—that is May Day Eve, or Walpurgisnacht as some call it. 'Tis one of the four great Satanic feasts of the year, and that is obviously why Katie O'Brien chose it.'
‘I see no reason why you should not refuse to marry her that night more than on any other.'
'But, Uncle Roger, unless help does come I must! I must, because of Susan.'
As Roger's mind grasped an awful possibility, he asked in an appalled whisper. 'You don't mean... ?'
‘I do.' Charles nodded miserably. 'After I'd been incarcerated here a week, the witch came to the manhole up there and, as I'd proved stubborn, gave me an ultimatum. On the night of the 30th, whatever happens they mean to celebrate a Black Mass. She would like it to form part of my marriage ceremony, with me taking the priest's place for the final act of copulating with Jemima on the altar. But if I refuse, it will be Susan on the altar, being deflowered by that filthy priest.'
'Oh, God, how frightful!' Roger groaned, burying his face in his hands.
'It won't come to that,' Charles strove to reassure him. 'I made up my mind days ago that the chances of my being rescued were almost non-existent, so I'd have to marry Jemima when the time comes.'
Roger looked up. 'We still have a fortnight. Two of us having now disappeared, there is a strong likelihood of Georgina coming over and demanding the Viceroy's help to find us before the end of the month.'
'That's true, and gives me a more realistic hope to cling to than I had before your coming. But, Uncle Roger, you're looking terribly fatigued. Had you not best now try to get some sleep ?'
'You're right,' Roger agreed. Firmly refusing Charles's offer of the palliasse, he rolled up his cloak for a pillow and lay down on the fourth wooden platform, which had nothing on it, then Charles blew out the candle.
Both of them lay long awake, so when they did drop off they slept late, and were aroused by a shaft of light from the ceiling, penetrating the stygian blackness of the dungeon. In the manhole above, the negro Aboe's head appeared and, having called down to them, he lowered a rope with a hook on the end, to which a bag was attached.
Before going to sleep Roger had pondered the possibility of making a base of the four wooden sleeping platforms, standing on it then, if Charles stood on his shoulders, the manhole might be reached and lifted. But he now saw that the manhole was a good twenty-five feet from the floor, so could not possibly be got at in that way. To have seized the rope and climbed up it was equally impracticable for, as soon as his head came within striking distance, the negro would hit him. The shute he already knew to be too smooth and steep for them to wriggle up, so he now resigned himself to the fact that there was no way in which they could break out.
Charles lit the candle, removed the supply of fresh food from the bag and put his debris from the previous day in it. He also attached on the hook the six-gallon water jar. It was hauled up and a full jar let down, then a palliasse and blankets for Roger were lowered, after which the rope was withdrawn and the manhole closed.
They used part of the water to wash in, then poured it down the hole that served as a latrine; but they had no means of shaving. During the past fortnight Charles had grown an inch-long, dark beard and, not having shaved now for two days, Roger's chin was covered in stubble.
After eating, they passed the morning exchanging accounts of Napoleon's overthrow and Wellington's final triumphant campaign. In the afternoon the manhole was again lifted, and the witch's head appeared above it. She had come to take a look at her new captive, and to ask him how he had learned the whereabouts of her hiding place.
As Roger considered Maureen Luggala criminally responsibl
e for having lured Susan to Ireland, then abducting her, he had no scruples in telling the witch how he had blackmailed Maureen into bringing him out there. Katie then urged him to persuade Charles to agree to marry Jemima without further argument and, as an inducement, promised to use her powers to ensure their marriage being a happy one.
When she withdrew her head, Jemima's took its place. She gaily twitted Roger on having outwitted him, and said she thought him a gallant fellow for having attempted singlehanded to rescue his daughter. She went on to say that she was genuinely fond of Susan, that Susan would soon get over losing Charles to her, and that when they were married and she had become mistress of White Knights Park, he and Susan would always be most welcome guests there.
The prisoners whiled away the rest of the day reading and chatting, then slept again. Charles had been so distraught about Susan when his attempt to get her away had failed that he was uncertain of the actual date upon which he had been thrown down into the dungeon. Roger, however, knew that he had arrived on April 16th, so they made a calendar on which to tick off the days.
Those that followed varied little from the first after Roger had joined Charles, except that the witch did not come to the manhole again, and Jemima only did so now and then, having found that Charles continued to be unresponsive to her blandishments. The food sent down to them was plain and consisted only of such items as could be procured locally, but it was reasonably good and Charles said that Jemima had apologised for there being only water to drink, but the cellars of the Castle were empty and they could not send anyone in to Dublin to buy wine. Rats, feasting on such food as they left, troubled them at times, but did not attack them. Their prison was ventilated only by the hole in the floor. Although chilly, it was not uncomfortably cold and, from time to time, they warmed themselves up by flailing their arms or doing exercises.
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