No chauffeurs were taken and a little less than half the number of cars utilised. Where the guests had presumably arrived in ones, twos, and threes, they now departed crowded five and six apiece in the largest of the cars.
When only a dozen or so of the Satanists were left the Duke jogged Rex’s arm. ‘We’ve missed him I’m afraid. We had better make for our own car now or we may lose track of them,’ and, filled with growing concern at the difficulties which stood between them and Simon’s rescue, they turned and set off at a quick pace through the trees to the broken place in the wall.
Scrambling over, they ran at a trot down the lane. Once in the car, De Richleau drove it back on to the main road and then pulled up as far as possible in the shadow of the overhanging trees. A big Delage came out of the park gates a hundred yards farther along the road and turning east sped away through the village.
‘Wonder if that’s the last,’ Rex said softly.
‘I hope not,’ De Richleau replied. ‘They have been going off at about two-minute intervals, so as not to crowd the road and make too much of a procession of it. If it is the last, they would be certain to see our lights and become suspicious. With any luck the people in the Delage will take us for the following car if we can slip in now, and the next to follow will believe our rear light to be that of the Delage.’ He released his brake, and the Hispano slid forward.
On the far side of the village they picked up the rear light of the Delage moving at an easy pace and followed to the cross-roads where they had met Clutterbuck an hour and a half earlier. Here the car turned north along a by-road, and they followed for a few miles upward on to the higher level of the desolate rolling grasslands, unbroken by house or farmstead, and treeless except for, here and there, a coppice set upon a gently sloping hillside.
Rex was watching out of the back window and had assured himself that another car was following in their rear, for upon that open road motor headlights were easily visible for miles.
They passed through the village of Chitterne St. Mary, then round the steep curve to the entrance of its twin parish, Chitterne All Saints. At the latter the car which they were following switched into a track running steeply uphill to the north-east, then swiftly down again into a long valley bottom and up the other side on a higher crest. They came to a cross-roads where four tracks met in another valley and turned east to run on for another mile, bumping and skidding on the little-used, path like way. After winding a little, the car ahead suddenly left the track altogether and ran on to the smooth, short turf.
After following the Delage for a mile or more across the grass, De Richleau saw it pull up on the slope of the downs where the score or so of cars which had brought the Satanists to this new rendezvous were parked in a ragged line. He swiftly dimmed his lights, and ran slowly forward, giving the occupants of the Delage time to leave their car before he pulled up the Hispano as far from it as he dared without arousing suspicion in the others. The car following, which seemed to be the last in the procession, passed quite close to them and halted ten yards ahead, also disgorging is passengers. Rex and the Duke waited for a moment, still seated in the darkness of the Hispano, then after a muttered conference, Rex got out to go forward and investigate.
He returned after about ten minutes to say that the Satanists had gone over the crest of the hill into the dip beyond, carrying their hampers and their gear with them.
‘We had better drive on then,’ said the Duke, ‘and park our car with theirs. It’s less likely to be noticed if the moon gets up.’
‘There isn’t a moon,’ Rex told him. ‘We’re in the dark quarter. But it would be best to have it handy all the same.’
They drove on until they reached the other cars, all of whose lights had been put out, then, getting out, set off at a stealthy trot in the direction the Satanists had taken.
Within a few moments they arrived at the brow of the hill and saw that spread below them lay a natural amphitheatre. At the bottom, glistening faintly, lay a small tarn or lake, and De Richleau nodded understanding.
‘This is the place where the devilry will actually be done without a doubt. No Sabbat can be held except in a place which is near open water.’ Then the two friends lay down in the grass to watch for Simon among the dark group of figures who were moving about the water’s edge.
Some were busy unpacking the hampers, and erecting the small folding-tables which they had brought. The light was just sufficient for Rex to see that they were spreading upon them a lavish supper. As he watched, he saw a group of about a dozen move over to the left towards a pile of ancient stones which, in the uncertain light, seemed to form a rugged, natural throne.
De Richleau’s eyes were also riveted upon the spot and, to his straining gaze, it seemed that there was a sudden stirring of movement in the shadows there. The whole body of masked black-clad figures left the lake and joined those near the stones, who seemed to be their leaders. After a moment the watchers could discern a tall, dark form materialising on the throne and, as they gazed with tense expectancy, a faint shimmer of pale violet light began to radiate from it.
Even at that distance, this solitary illumination of the dark hollow was sufficient for the two friends to realise that the thing which had appeared out of the darkness, seated upon those age-old rocks, was the same evil entity that De Richleau had once taken for Mocata’s black servant, and which had manifested itself to Rex with such ghastly clarity in Simon’s silent house. The Sabbat was about to commence.
CHAPTER XVI
THE SABBAT
Straining their eyes and ears for every sound and movement from the assembly in the dark shadows below, Rex and the Duke lay side by side on the rim of the saucer-shaped depression in the downland.
As far as they could judge, they were somewhere about halfway between the two hamlets of Imber and Tilshead, with Chitterne All Saints in their rear and the village of Easterton, where Tanith had crashed, about five miles to the north. The country round about was desolate and remote. Once in a while some belated Wiltshire yokel might cross the plain by night upon a special errand created by emergency; but even if such a one had chanced to pass that way on this Walpurgis-Nacht, the hidden meeting-placeguarded by its surrounding hillswas far from the nearest track, and at that midnight hour no living soul seemed to be stirring within miles of the spot which the Satanists had chosen for the worship of their Infernal Master.
In the faint starlight they could see that the tables were now heaped with an abundance of food and wine, and that the whole crowd had moved over towards the throne round which they formed a wide circle, so that the nearest came some little way up the slope and were no more than fifty yards from where the Duke and Rex lay crouched in the grass.
‘How long does it last?’ Rex asked, beneath his breath, a little nervously.
‘Until cock-crow, which I suppose would be at about four o’clock at this time of the year. It is a very ancient belief that the crowing of a cock has power to break spells, so these ceremonies, in which the power to cast spells is given, never last longer. Keep a sharp look out for Simon.’
‘I am, but what will they be doing all that time?
‘First, they will make their homage to the Devil. Then they will gorge themselves on the food that they have brought and get drunk on the wine; the idea being that everything must be done contrary to the Christian ritual. They will feast to excess as opposed to the fasting which religious people undergo before their services. Look! There are the leaders before the altar now.’