Dennis Wheatley - The Devil Rides Out

The smile broadened on Rex’s full mouth as he listened to the explanation of much that had been troubling him in the last hour, but it faded suddenly as he realised that, natural as it seemed compared to all this meaningless drivel which he had been exchanging with the old woman, it was in reality one more demonstration of the occult. These two women had actually seen him walk into the hotel lounge when they were sitting upstairs in their room peering into a piece of glass.

‘In some ways I suffer the disappointment,’ said the old Countess suddenly, and Rex found her studying him with a strange, disconcerting look. ‘I know well that promiscuity gives a greater power for all ‘oo follow the Path an’ that ‘uman love ‘inders our development, but nevair ‘ave I been able to free myself from a so stupid sentimentality—an’ you would, I think, ‘ave made a good lover for ‘er.’

Rex stared in astonished silence, then looked quickly away, as she added: ‘No matter—the other ees of real importance. I will send for ‘er that you may give your message.’

With a little jerk she stood up and gripping her ebony cane stumped across to the hall porter’s desk while he relaxed, unutterably glad that this extraordinary interview was over.

However, he felt a glow of satisfaction in the thought that he had duped her into the belief that De Richleau and himself were even more powerful adepts than Mocata, and at having played his cards sufficiently well to secure a meeting with Tanith under such favourable circumstances. If only he could get her into his car, he was determined to inveigle her into giving him any information she possessed which might lead to the discovery of Simon’s whereabouts, although, since Madame D’Urfe was ignorant of the fact that he was no longer with the Duke, it was hardly likely that Tanith would actually be able to take them to him.

With new anxiety Rex realised the gravity of the check. They had practically counted on Tanith having the knowledge, if only they could get it out of her, and even if he could persuade her to talk about Mocata the man might have a dozen haunts. If so it would be no easy task to visit them all before sundown and the urgency of the Duke’s instructions still rang in his ears.

Today was May Day Eve. The Great Sabbat of the year would be held tonight. It was absolutely imperative that they should trace and secure Simon before dusk or else, under the evil influence which now dominated his mentality, he would be taken to participate in those unholy rites and jeopardise for ever the flame of goodness, wisdom and right thinking which men term the soul.

After a moment Madame D’Urfe rejoined him. ‘For tonight at least,’ she whispered, ‘things in dispute between the followers of the Path will be in abeyance—is it not?—for all must make their ‘omage to the One.’

He nodded and she bent towards him, lowering her voice still further: ‘If I could but see De Richleau for one moment — as Ipsissimus ‘e must possess the unguent?’

‘That’s so,’ Rex agreed, but he was horribly uncertain of his ground again as he added cryptically: ‘But what of the Moon?’

‘Ah, fatality,’ she sighed. ‘I ‘ad forgotten that we are in the dark quarter.’

He blessed the providence which had guided his tongue as she went on sadly: ‘I ‘ave try so often but nevair yet ‘ave I succeeded. I know all things necessary to its preparation, an’ ‘ave gathered every ‘erb at the right period. I ‘ave even rendered down the fat, but they must ‘ave cheated me. It was from a mortuary per’aps—but not from a graveyard as it should ‘ave been.’

Rex felt the hair bristle on the back of his neck and his whole body stiffened as he heard this gruesome confession. Surely it was inconceivable that people still practised these medieval barbarities—yet he recalled the terrible manifestation that he had witnessed with the Duke on the previous night. After that he could no longer employ modern standards of belief or unbelief to the possibilities which might result from the strange and horrible doings of these people who had given themselves over to ancient cults.

The old Countess was regarding him again with that queer disconcerting look. ‘It matters not,’ she murmured. ‘We shall get there just the same, Tanith and I —an’ it should be interesting — for nevair before ‘as she attended the Great Sabbat.’

The lift gates clicked at that moment and Tanith stepped out into the corridor. For a fleeting instant Rex caught a glimpse of her wise, beautiful face, over the old woman’s shoulder, but the Countess was speaking again in a husky whisper, so he was forced to look back at her.

‘Nevair before,’ she repeated with unholy glee, ‘and after the One ‘as done that which there is to do, ‘oo knows but you may be the next—if you are quick.’

Forcing himself out of his chair Rex shut his ears to the infernal implication. His general reading had been enough for him to be aware that in the old days the most incredible orgies took place as the climax to every Sabbat, and his whole body crept at the thought of Tanith being subjected to such abominations. His impulse was to seize this iniquitous old woman by the throat and choke the bestial life out of her fat body, but with a supreme effort he schooled himself to remain outwardly normal.

As Tanith approached, and taking his hand smiled into his eyes, he knew that she, as well as Simon, must be saved before nightfall from—yes, the old biblical quotation leapt to his mind — ‘The Power of the Dog’, that was strong upon them.

CHAPTER X

TANITH PROVES STUBBORN

After the muttering of the old Comtess and her veiled allusions to unspeakable depravities Rex felt that even the air had grown stale and heavy, as though charged with some subtle quality of evil, but on the coming of Tanith the atmosphere seemed to lighten. The morning sunshine was lending a pale golden glow to the street outside and in her hand she held one of the sprays of lilac which he had sent up to her. She lifted it to her face as he returned the smile.

‘So!’ she said in a low clear voice, her eyes mocking him above the fragrant bloom. ‘You insisted then that Madame should let you see me?’

‘I’d have sat around this place all day if she hadn’t,’ Rex confessed frankly, ‘because now we’ve met at last I’m hoping you’ll let me see something of you.’

‘Perhaps—but not today. I have many things to do and already I am late for the dressmaker.’

Rex thanked his stars that the old woman had unwittingly given him a lever in assuming the Duke to be an Adept of great power, and himself his envoy. ‘It’s mighty important that I should see you today,’ he insisted. ‘There are certain things we’ve just got to talk about.’

‘Got to!’ A quick frown clouded Tanith’s face. ‘I do not understand!’

‘Ma petite, it is you ‘oo do not understan’,’ Madame D’Urfe broke in hastily. Then she launched into a torrent of low speech in some foreign language, but Rex caught De Richleau’s name and the word Ipsissimus, so he guessed that she was giving Tanith some version of the events which had taken place the night before, based on his own misleading statements, and wondered miserably how long he would be able to keep up the impersonation which had been thrust upon him.

Tanith nodded several times and studied him with a new interest as she nibbled a small piece of the lilac blossom between her teeth. Then she said with charming frankness: ‘You must forgive me—I had no idea you were such an important member of the Order.’

‘Forget it please,’ he begged, ‘but if you’re free I’d be glad if you could join me for lunch.’

‘That puts me in a difficulty because I am supposed to be lunching with the wife of the Roumanian Minister.’