To outward appearances De Richleau slept. He lay perfectly still on his back breathing evenly and almost imperceptibly, but he had always been able to do with very little sleep. Actually lie was recruiting his forces in a manner that was not possible to the others. That gentle rhythmic breathing, perfectly but unconsciously timed from long practice, was the way of the Raja Yoga, which he had learned when young, and all the time he visualised himself, the others, the whole room as blueblueblue, the colour vibration which gives love and sympathy and spiritual attainment. Yet he was conscious of every tiny movement made by the others; the gentle sighing of the breeze outside, and the occasional plop of burning logs as they fell into the embers. For over two hours he barely moved a muscle but all his senses remained watchful and alert.
The night seemed never-ending. Outside the wind dropped and a steady rain began to fall, dripping with monotonous regularity from the eaves on to the terrace. Richard became more and more sore from the hard floor. He was tired now and bored by this apparently senseless vigil. He thought that it must be about half-past one, and daylight would not come to release them from their voluntary prison before half-past five or six. That meant another four hours of this acute and momentarily increasing discomfort. As he tossed and turned it grew upon him with ever-increasing force how stupid and futile this whole affair seemed to be. De Richleau was so obviously the victim of a gang of clever tricksters, and his wide reading on obscure subjects had caused his imagination to run away with him. To pander to such folly any longer simply was not good enough. With these thoughts now dominating his mind Richard suddenly sat up.
‘Look here,’ he said, ‘I’m sick of this. A joke’s a joke, but we’ve had no lunch and precious little dinner, and I haven’t had a drink all day. Some of you have got far too lively an imagination, and we are making utter fools of ourselves. We had better go upstairs. If you’re really frightened of anything happening to Simon, we could easily shift our beds into one room and all sleep within a hand’s reach of each other. Nobody will be able to get at him then. But frankly, at the moment, I think we’re behaving like a lot of lunatics.’
De Richleau rose with a jerk and gave him a sharp look from beneath his grey slanting devil’s eyebrows. ‘Something’s beginning to happen,’ he told himself swiftly. ‘They’re working upon Richard, because he’s the most sceptical amongst us, to try and make him break up the pentacle.’ Aloud he said quietly: ‘So you’re still unconvinced that Simon is in real danger, Richard?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Richard’s voice held an angry aggressive note quite foreign to his normal manner. ‘I regard this Black Magic business as stupid nonsense. If you could cite me a single case where so-called magicians have actually done their stuff before sane people it would be different. But they’re charlatansevery one of them. Take Cagliostrohe was supposed to make gold but nobody ever saw any of it, and when the Inquisition got hold of him they bunged him in a dungeon in Rome and he died there in abject misery. His Black Magic couldn’t even procure him a hunk of bread. Look at Catherine de Medici. She was a witch on the grand scale if ever there was onebuilt a special tower at Vincennes for Cosimo Ruggeri, an Italian sorcerer. They used to slit up babies and practise all sorts of abominations there together night after night to ensure the death of Henry of Navarre and the birth of children to her own sons. But it didn’t do her a ha’porth of good. All four died childless so that at last, despite all her bloody sacrifices, the House of Valois was extinct, and Henry, the hated Bearnais, became King of France after all. Come nearer home if you like. Take that absurd Eliphas Levi who was supposed to be the Grand High Whatnot in Victorian times. Did you ever read his book, The Doctrine and Ritual of Magic? In his introduction he professes that he is going to tell you all about the game and that he’s written a really practical book, by the aid of which anybody who likes can raise the devil, and perform all sorts of monkey tricks. He drools on for hundreds of pages about fiery swords and tetragrams and the terrible aqua poffana, but does he tell you anything? Not a blessed thing. Once it comes to a showdown he hedges like the crook he was and tells you that such mysteries are far too terrible and dangerous to be entrusted to the profane. Mysterious balderdash my friend. I’m going to have a good strong nightcap and go to bed.’
Marie Lou looked at him in amazement. Never before had she heard Richard denounce any subject with such passion and venom. Ordinarily, he possessed an extremely open mind and, if he doubted any statement, confined himself to a kindly but slightly cynical expression of disbelief. It was extraordinary that he should suddenly forget even his admirable manners and be downright rude to one of his greatest friends.
De Richleau studied his face with quiet understanding and as Richard stood up he stood up too, laying his hand upon the younger man’s shoulder. ‘Richard,’ he said. ‘You think I’m a superstitious fool, don’t you?’
No!’ Richard shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Only that you’ve been through a pretty difficult time and, quite frankly, that your imagination is a bit overstrained at the moment.’
The Duke smiled. ‘All right, perhaps you are correct, but we have been friends for a long time now and this business tonight has not interfered with our friendship in any way, has it?’
‘Why, of course not. You know that.’
‘Then, if I begged of you to do something for my sake, just because of that friendship, you would do it, wouldn’t you?’
‘Certainly I would,’ Richard’s hesitation was hardly perceptible and the Duke cut in quickly, taking him at his word.
Good! Then we will agree that Black Magic may be nothing but a childish superstition. Yet I happen to be frightened of it, so I ask you, my friend, who is not bothered with such stupid fears to stay with me tonightand not move outside this pentacle.’
Richard shrugged again, and then smiled ruefully… .
‘You’ve caught me properly now so I must make the best of it; quite obviously if you say that, it is impossible for me to refuse.’
‘Thank you,’ De Richleau murmured as they both sat down again, and to himself he thought: ‘That’s the first move of the game to me.’ Then as a fresh silence fell upon the party, he began to ruminate upon the strangeness of the fact that elementals and malicious spirits may be very powerful, but their nature is so low and their intelligence so limited that they can nearly always be trapped by the divine spark of reason which is the salvation of mankind. The snare was such an obvious one and yet Richard’s true nature had reasserted itself so rapidly that the force, which had moved him to try and break up their circle for its benefit, had been scotched almost before it had had a chance to operate.
They settled down again but in some subtle way the atmosphere had changed. The fire glowed red on its great pile of ashes, the candles burned unflickeringly in the five points of the star, and the electric globes above the cornices still lit every corner of the room with a soft diffused radiance, yet the four friends made no further pretence of trying to sleep. Instead they sat back to back, while the moments passed, creeping with leaden feet towards the dawn.
Marie Lou was perplexed and worried by Richard’s outburst, De Richleau tense with a new expectancy, now he felt that psychic forces were actually moving within the room. Stealthy invisiblebut powerful; he knew them to be feeling their way from bay to bay of the pentacle, seeking for any imperfection in the barrier he had erected, just as a strong current swirls and eddies about the jagged fissures of a reef searching for an entrance into a lagoon.