‘Someone is asking for you on the telephone, Mr. Van Ryn, sir.’
‘For me!’ Rex stood up and, excusing himself to Marie Lou, hurried out, wondering who in the world it could be since no one knew his whereabouts. He was soon enlightened. A lilting voice, which had a strong resemblance to that of Marlene Dietrich, came over the wire as he placed the receiver to his ear.
‘Is that you, Rex? Oh, I am so glad I have found you. I must see you at oncequicklywithout a moment’s delay.’
‘Tanith!’ he exclaimed. ‘How did you tumble to it that I was here?’
‘Oh, never mind that! I will tell you when I see you. But hurry, please.’
‘Where are you then?’
‘At the village inn, no more than a mile from you. Do come at once. It is very urgent.’
For a second Rex hesitated, but only for a second. Simon would be safe enough in the care of Richard and Marie Lou, and Tanith’s voice had all the urgency and agitation of extreme fear. Anxiety for her had been gnawing at his heart ever since he had heard of her crash the previous evening. He knew that he loved her nowloved her desperately.
‘All right,’ he answered, his voice shaking a little. ‘I’ll be right over.’
Running back across the hall, he explained breathlessly to Marie Lou what had happened.
‘You must go of course,’ she said evenly. ‘But you’ll be back before nightfall won’t you, Rex?’
‘Sure,’ All his animation seemed suddenly to have returned to him as, with a quick grin, he hurried out, snatched up his hat and, leaving the house, set off at a long easy loping trot by the short cut across the meadows to the village.
Unnoticed by him, a short figure entered the drive just as he disappeared beyond the boundary of the garden. A few moments later the newcomer was in conversation with Malin. The butler knew that his master was upstairs sitting with his friend Mr. Aron while the latter rested, and had given orders that he was not to be disturbed, so leaving the visitor in the hall he crossed to Marie Lou’s sitting-room.
‘There is a gentleman to see you, madam,’ he announced quietly. ‘A Mr. Mocata.’
CHAPTER XXII
THE SATANIST
For a moment Marie Lou hesitated, her eyes round with surprise, staring at the butler. In the last hour she had heard so much about this strange and terrifying visitor, but it had not occurred to her for one instant that she might be called upon to face him in the flesh so soon.
Her first impulse was to send upstairs for Richard, but like many people who possess extremely small bodies, her brain was exceptionally quick. Rex and the Duke were both absent and, if she sent for Richard, Simon would be left alonethe one thing that De Richleau had been so insistent should not be allowed to happen. True, she and Richard would have been the principal enemy under observation themselves, but he had allies. It flashed upon her that this girl Tanith was one perhaps and had purposely decoyed Rex away to the inn. Mocata might have others already waiting to lure Simon out of the house while they were busy talking to him. Almost instantly her mind was made up. Richard must not leave Simon, so she would have to interview Mocata on her own.
‘Show him in,’ she told the butler evenly. ‘But if I ring you are to come at onceimmediately, you understand?’
‘Certainly, madam.’ Malin softly withdrew, while Marie Lou seated herself in an armchair with her back to the light and within easy reach of the bell-push.
Mocata was shown in, and she studied him curiously. He was dressed in a suit of grey tweeds and wore a black stock tie. His head, large, bald and shiny, reminded her of an enormous egg, and the several folds of his heavy chin protruded above his stiff-winged collar.
‘I do hope you’ll forgive me, Mrs. Eaton,’ he began in a voice that was musical and charming, ‘for calling on you without any invitation. But you may perhaps have heard my name.’
She nodded slightly, carefully ignoring the hand which he half extended as she motioned him to the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace. Marie Lou knew nothing of Esoteric Doctrines, but quite enough from the peasants’ superstitions which had been rife in the little village where she had lived, an outcast of the Russian Revolution, to be aware that she must not touch this man, nor offer him any form of refreshment while he was in her house.
The afternoon sunshine played full upon Mocata’s pink, fleshy countenance as he went on. ‘I thought perhaps that would be the case. Whether the facts have been rightly represented to you, I don’t know, but Simon Aron is a very dear friend of mine, and during his recent illness I have been taking care of him.’
‘I see,’ she answered guardedly. ‘Well, it was hardly put to me in that way, but what is the purpose of your visit?
‘I understand that Simon is with you now?’
‘Yes,’ she replied briefly, feeling that it was senseless to deny it, ‘and his visit to us will continue for some little time.’
He smiled then, and with a little shock Marie Lou suddenly caught herself thinking that he was really quite an attractive person. His strange light-coloured eyes showed a strong intelligence and, to her surprise, a glint of the most friendly humour, which almost suggested that he was about to conspire with her in some amusing undertaking. His lisping voice, too, was strangely pleasant and restful to listen to as he spoke again in perfect English periods, only a curious intonation of the vowel sounds indicating his French extraction.
‘The country air would no doubt be excellent for him, and I am certain that nothing could be more charming for him than your hospitality. Unfortunately there are certain matters, of which you naturally know nothing, but which make it quite imperative that I should take him back to London tonight.’
‘I am afraid that is quite impossible.’
I see,’ Mocata looked thoughtfully for a moment at his large elastic-sided boots. ‘I feared that you might take this attitude to begin with, because I imagine your friend De Richleau has been filling the heads of your husband and yourself with the most preposterous nonsense. I don’t propose to go into that now or his reason for it, but I do ask you to believe me, Mrs. Eaton, when I say that Simon will be in very considerable danger if you do not allow me to take him back into my care.’
‘No danger will come to him as long as he is in my house,’ said Marie Lou firmly.
‘Ah, my dear young lady,’ he sighed a little wistfully. ‘I can hardly expect anyone like yourself to understand precisely what will happen to our poor Simon if he remains here, but his mental state has been unsatisfactory for some little time, and I alone can cure him of his lamentable condition. Chocolates!’ he added suddenly and irrelevantly as his eyes rested upon a large box on a nearby table. ‘You’ll think me terribly rude, but may I? I simply adore chocolates.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Marie Lou replied without the flicker of an eyelash, ‘but that box is empty. Do go on with what you were saying about Simon.’
Mocata withdrew his hand, feeling himself unable to challenge her statement by opening the box to see, and Marie Lou found it difficult to repress a smile as he made a comically rueful face like some greedy schoolboy who has been disappointed of a slice of cake.
‘Really!’ he exclaimed. ‘What a pity. May I put it in the waste-paper basket for you then? To leave it about is such a terrible temptation for people like myself.’ Before she could stop him he had reached out again and picked up the box, realising immediately by its weight that she had lied to him.
‘No, please,’ she put out her hand and almost snatched the box from his pudgy fingers. ‘I gave it to my little girl to put her marbles inwe mustn’t throw it away.’ The box gave a faint rustle as she laid it down beside her, so she added swiftly: ‘She puts each one in the little paper cups that the chocolates are packed in and arranges them in rows. She would be terribly distressed if they were upset.’