The Devil Rides Out

‘I had forgotten!—luncheon—I shall never be back in time.’

‘Easy, put through a call and say you’ve suddenly been called out of Town,’ he told her, and a few miles further on he pulled up at Skindles Hotel in Maidenhead.

While Tanith was telephoning he stood contemplating the river. Although it was early in the year a period of drought had already checked the spate of the current sufficiently to make boating pleasurable, and he noted that in the gardens of the Hungaria River Club, on the opposite bank, they were setting out their gay paraphernalia preparatory to opening for the Season. Immediately Tanith rejoined him they set off again.

The straggling suburbs of Greater London had already been left behind them before Slough and now, after Maidenhead, the scattered clusters of red-roofed dwellings on the new building estates, which have spread so far afield, also disappeared, giving place to the real country. On certain portions of the road, the fresh green of the beech trees formed a spring canopy overhead and between their trunks, dappled with sunlight, patches of bluebells gave glory to the silent woods; at others they ran between meadows where lazy cattle nibbled the new grass, or fields where the young corn, strong with life, stretched its vivid green shoots upwards to the sun.

The sight and smell of the countryside, unmarred by man or carefully tended in his interests, windswept and clean, gave Rex fresh confidence. He banished his anxiety about Simon for the moment and, thrusting from his mind all thoughts of this gruesome business into which he had been drawn, began to talk all the gay nonsense to Tanith which he would have aired to any other girl whom he had induced to steal a day out of London in which to see the country preparing its May Day garb.

Before they reached Reading he had her laughing, and by the time they entered the little riverside village of Pangbourne, her pale face was flushed with colour and her eyes dancing with new light.

They crossed to the Whitchurch side where the Duke’s house stood, some way back from the river, its lawns sloping gently to the water’s edge.

Max received them, and while a maid took Tanith upstairs to wash, Rex had a chance to whisper quick instructions to him.

When she entered the low, old-fashioned lounge with its wide windows looking out over the tulip beds to the trees on the farther bank she found Rex whistling gaily. He was shooting varying proportions of liquor out of different bottles into a cocktail shaker. Max stood beside him holding a bowl of ice.

‘Where is the Duke?’ she asked, with a new soberness in her voice.

He had been waiting for the question and keeping his face averted answered cheerfully : ‘He’s not made it yet—what time are you expecting him, Max?’

‘I should have told you before, sir. His Excellency telephoned that I was to present his excuses to the lady, and ask you, sir, to act as host in his stead. He has been unavoidably detained, but hopes to be able to join you for tea.’

‘Well, now, if that isn’t real bad luck!’ Rex exclaimed feelingly. ‘Never mind we’ll go right into lunch the moment it’s ready.’ He tasted the concoction which he had been beating up with a large spoon and added: ‘My! That’s good!’

‘Yes, sir—in about five minutes, sir,’ Max bowed gravely and withdrew.

Rex knew that there was trouble coming but he presented a glass of the frothing liquid with a steady hand. ‘Never give a girl a large cocktail,’ he cried gaily, ‘but plenty of ‘em. Make ‘em strong and drink ‘em quick—come on now! It takes a fourth to make an appetite…. Here’s to crime!’

But Tanith set down the glass untasted. All the merriment had died out of her eyes and her voice was full of fresh anxiety as she said urgently: ‘I can’t stay here till tea-time—don’t you realise that I must leave London by four o’clock?’

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, ‘Where is this place you’re going to?’ but he caught himself in time and substituted, ‘Why not go from here direct?’ then he prayed silently that the secret meeting place might not be on the other side of London.

Her face lightened for a moment. ‘Of course, I forgot that you were going yourself, and the journey must be so much shorter from here, if you could take me it seems stupid to go all the way back to London—but what of Madame D’Urfe—she expects me to motor down with her—and I must have my clothes.’

‘Why not call her on the phone. Ask her to have your stuff packed up and say we’ll meet her there. You’ve got to see the Duke, and whatever happens he’ll turn up here because he and I are going down together.’

She nodded. ‘If I am to place myself under his protection it is vital that I should see him before the meeting, for Mocata has eyes in the ether and will know that I am here by now.’

‘Come on then!’ He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘We’ll get through to Claridges right away.’

Tanith allowed him to lead her out into the hall and when he had got the number he left her at the telephone. Then he returned to the lounge, poured himself another cocktail and began to do a gay little dance to celebrate his victory. He felt that he had got her now, safe for the day, until the Duke turned up. Then trust De Richleau to get something out of her which would enable them to get on Simon’s track after all.

At his sixth pirouette he stopped suddenly. Tanith was standing in the doorway her face ashen, her big eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and fear.

‘You have lied to me,’ she stammered out, ‘Mocata is with the Countess at this moment—he got Simon Aron away from you last night. You and your precious Duke are impostors—charlatans. You haven’t even the power to protect yourselves, and for this Mocata may tie me to the Wheel of Ptah–– Oh, I must get back!’ Before he could stop her she had turned and fled out of the house.

CHAPTER XII

THE GRIM PROPHECY

In one spring Rex was across the room, another and he had reached the garden. Against those long legs of his Tanith had no chance. Before she had covered twenty yards he caught her arm and jerked her round to face him.

‘Let me go!’ she panted. ‘Haven’t you endangered me enough with your lies and interference.’

He smiled down into her frightened face but made no mention to release her. ‘I’m awfully sorry I had to tell you all those tarradiddles to get you to this place—but now you’re here you’re going to stay– Understand?’

‘It is you who don’t understand,’ she flashed. ‘You and your friend, the Duke, are like a couple of children playing with a dynamite bomb. You haven’t a chance against Mocata. He will loose a power on you that will simply blot you out.’

‘I wouldn’t be too certain of that. Maybe I know nothing of this occult business myself and if anyone had suggested to me that there were practising Satanists wandering around London this time last week, I’d have said they had bats in the belfry. But the Duke’s different—and, believe you me, he’s a holy terror when he once gets his teeth into a thing. Best save your pity for Mocata —he’ll need it before De Richleau’s through with him.’

‘Is he—is he really an Ipsissimus then?’ she hesitated.

‘Lord knows—I don’t. That’s just a word I picked out of some jargon he was talking last night that I thought might impress you.’ Rex grinned broadly. All the lying and trickery which he had been forced to practise during the morning had taxed him to the utmost, but now that he was able to face the situation openly he felt at the top of his form again.

‘I daren’t stay then—I daren’t!’ She tried to wrench herself free. ‘Don’t you see that if he is only some sort of dabbler he will never be able to protect me?’