A slim shape showed darkly behind the lattice, and the cold light reflected from the snow touched the pure, oval face of Mona Verek.
We fought our way back to the terrace.
"The curse of Devrers Hall in its true form," muttered Hanson, "in the red robe of Maccabees Nosta, the Uniform of Satan!"
We could not and dared not, speak of what we had seen, but the gaieties of the night left us cold. As the hours passed and still nothing occurred to break the serenity of the happy gathering, my forebodings grew keener.
Yet, whenever I looked at Mona Verek, fair and fragile, with wonderful blue eyes — which often made me fear that already she was more than half a creature of another sphere — I found new courage. It was Hanson who first noticed that Mrs Van Eyck and Bowman were missing.
He drew my attention to it at the instant when the tempest, for a while quiescent, awoke to renewed fury.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
I saw Earl glance up quickly from an ultimate chat with Mona.
Mingled with the song of the storm had arisen fiendish laughter again and the sound of dull flapping. It seemed like the signal for what was to befall.
Knowlson, ghastly white, rushed into the hall. "Mr Ryland! Mr Ryland!" he cried unceremoniously.
In an instant we were all flocking about the door. Bowman's man, trembling, stood outside.
"I don't know what's become of him, sir," he said tremulously. "He and Mrs Van Eyck were to have started at eleven-thirty, and, going in to look for him in the lounge — Oh, my God, sir! — I saw something like a great owl go in at the window."
We delayed no longer. Out into the blizzard we poured and over the snow to the south wing.
Blue, spirituous flames were belching from the window of the astrologer's study! One shrill scream reached our ears, to be drowned by the mighty voice of the wind.
"Impossible to get in the window," cried Ryland. "Around through the library. Form up a line to pass buckets, Knowl-sonf"
As we rushed up the snow-carpeted terrace steps, Hanson fell. Someone stayed to attend to him. Ryland and I ran on through the house and entered the library together. It was in darkness, but the ancient, ironstudded door leading down into the study was out-lined in blue light.
I leapt forward in the gloom, my hand outstretched, and something interposed between me and the door — something fiery. With a muffled yell, I drew back.
Ryland passed me. His form vaguely silhouetted against that weird glow, I saw him raise his arms as if to shield his face. An evidently irresistible force hurled him back, and he fell with a crash at the feet of those who crowded the entrance to the library.
"Oh! my God!" he groaned, struggling to his feet. "What is before that door?"
A sound like the roaring of a furnace came from within, with a dull beating on the oak. We stood there in the dark, watching the door. Someone pushed to the front of the group.
"Keep back, Masters," said Ryland huskily. "My arms are burned to the elbows. Some hellish thing stands before the door. Keep back, man, till we get lights. Bring lights? Bring lights!"
At that we withdrew from the dark library, until we all stood outside in the hall. Some of us muttered what prayers we knew, while the furnace roared inside and the storm shrieked outside.
There have been some with whom I have discussed these events, who were convinced that these were the result of hallucination combined with the unsuspected presence of an accomplished illusionist and remorseless jester, but I am convinced otherwise.
Mona Verek approached from the direction of the banqueting hall, two trembling servants following with lights. She was very pale, but quite composed.
"Mona!" began Earl huskily, "there's devil's work! This is no place—"
She stopped him with a quiet little gesture, and took a lamp from one of the men.
"Mr Hanson has explained to me. Earl," she said. "He is disabled, or he would be here. I quite understand that there is nothing in the library that can harm me. It can only harm those who fear it I will unlock the door. Earl, I have promised."
"Mona! Hanson has asked you—"
"You don't understand. He has asked me, because for me there is no danger."
He would have stopped her, but he forgot his injured arms, and was too late. She went in, believing she would be protected.
Protected she was.
No invisible flame seared her, nothing contested her coming. Entering behind her, we saw her stoop and unlock the door. A cloud of oily, blueblack smoke belched out.
We had thought to find those within past aid, but up the steps Lawrence Bowman staggered, dragging the insensible form of Marie Van Eyck.
"Thank God!" said old Mr Ryland devoutly. There was a piercing, frenzied shriek. All heard it with horror. One of the Library windows banged open, and a cloud of snow poured into the room. "There's someone getting out," cried a man's voice.
"De Stano!" yelled Earl.
Several of us leaped to the window. In the stormy darkness, a red something was racing over the snow towards the beech avenue. The wind dropped, and from the monastery a bell rang.
"The midnight service," I said.
At the first stroke the red figure stopped dead, turned, and seemed to throw up its arms. It was at that moment, I was told by those near the door, that the strange flames died away in the ancient study, leaving only some charred woodwork to show where the fire had been. The buzzard howled again madly. I was not the only one there who heard amid its howling the sound as of flapping wings.
Mona Verek and Bowman were bending over the insensible woman. Upon her flesh was burned a clear impression of a calf, but the little image itself was missing.
The wind died away, no more snow fell and suddenly, as if a curtain had been raised from before it, the moon sailed into the skies. Marie Van Eyck opened her eyes and looked about her with an expression I shall never forget.
"The fire!" she whispered, "the fire! What is it?"
The bell ceased tolling.
"It is Christmas morning!" said Mona Verek.