`I am still convinced that something could be done through Beddows. After all, he is much more than Christina's physical father. As it was he who sold her to the Devil, he is her godfather as well and not just in the modem sense of buying her a christening mug and trying to remember to give her a quid on her birthdays. By inducting him as a Satanist the Canon took spiritual responsibility for Christina. If we could only persuade him to pray to Jesus Christ for her to night I believe we would achieve something really worth while.'
`I get the idea,' murmured C. B. dubiously. `As he admitted to us that it was having her baptised into the Satanic faith which makes her subject to evil influences during the hours of darkness, your theory is that if we could get him to recant she would no longer be subject to those influences.'
`Exactly ! Then, whatever success the Canon may have in casting spells on her jailers to night, when it comes to willing her to leave her cell she would reject the thought and sit tight there.'
C. B. rubbed his big nose. `Your reasoning seems sound enough; but I'd as soon hope to jump Becher's Brook on a donkey as get Beddows to do as you suggest. Do you realise that after all these years of battening on the fruits of evil he would have to abjure his Master? It isn't even as if he really cares very deeply what happens to Christina. And the risk! If he forswears Satan now, it wouldn't surprise me to see him struck dead by some form of seizure.'
`Well, he has had his fling; and if he lives on he will be lucky if he escapes being hounded into a madhouse by the Canon. Providing he abjures, even if he does die, we shall have achieved our object, and I wouldn't allow his life to weigh with me for one moment against Christina's. I agree that it is a thousand to one against our being able to persuade him to rely on God's mercy,, but there is that one chance; and to make the attempt is a thousand times better than spending the night doing nothing.'
'O.K., partner.' C. B. finished his port. `We'll pay him another visit.'
Soon after ten they were again approaching The Grange. Now that they knew its owner was there they were indifferent to the possibility of the Jutsons hearing them and coming on the scene; they drove straight up to the front door. But, knowing that their ring would not be answered, on getting out they walked round to the yard. No chinks of light showed between the curtains of the windows above the stable, and with no more than a glance at them they entered the house through the staircase window, the catch of which C. B. had forced the night before.
By the light of C.B.’s torch they proceeded through the baize door, across the hall and up the stairs. The atmosphere of the house was still chill and eerie, but to night it did not fill them with the fears that had racked their nerves during their previous visit. Swinging themselves across the gap in the floorboards of the landing, they approached the upper flight of stairs. The clanking of the ape's chain came clearly, telling them that it had been freed no doubt by Jutson when he had come up to give it fresh food and water that morning so they expected to have to catch and bind it again. That proved unnecessary. The creature had evidently learnt its lesson, for the moment C. B. shone his torch it cowered away, chattering with fright, into the farthest comer of the upper landing. Keeping a wary eye on it, they climbed the stairs and sidled past to the door of the great attic. Its lock had not been repaired and the door opened at a touch.
Beyond it the scene was the same almost unbelievable one that would for ever remain engraved upon their memories. There sat the twentieth century business man cross legged on his blankets, his back propped against the tea chest, surrounded by the paraphernalia of mediaeval witchcraft, his form dimly lit by the unflickering blue light given off from the glass tubes of the pentacle that enclosed him.
This time he showed no fear of his visitors. Their approach had roused him from a doze, and after giving himself a little shake he said, none too cordially, `So it's you two again. What d'you want now?'
C. B. felt that this was John's party; so he waited for him to speak, and John, having decided on the way there that a tactful approach was essential to any hope of success, replied quietly
`A lot has happened since we saw you last night, Mr. Beddows; so we thought we ought to come and report.'
`Why? I'm not employing you.' Beddows gave him a chilly stare.
`No; but I'm sure you are not indifferent to Chris ... to
Ellen's fate; otherwise you would not have gone to such trouble to hide her in the South of France. What is more, you are vitally concerned in the outcome of this affair yourself.'
`I can't stop you talking, if you want to,' came the ungracious reply; `but if you think you are going to wheedle me into taking any action you might as well save your breath.'
`We've come to you partly because we want your advice.!
'All right.' Beddows' voice sounded as though he was slightly reassured. `Advice costs nothing. Go ahead.!
'Thanks.' Feeling a trifle awkward standing there, John took a step forward and sat down on the floor as near as he could get to Beddows while remaining outside the pentacle. As C. B. followed his example, he began to give an account of all that had happened that day. When he had done, he went on
'Now! One of the things we wanted to ask you, Mr. Beddows, is can the Canon perform his ritual with the homunculus and Ellen anywhere, or will he have to bring them back to do the job to morrow night in his own crypt?'
`He needn't bring them back, but he can't do it anywhere. The ceremony must be performed on an altar that has been properly dedicated to the Lord Satan.'
`We feared as much. Are there many such altars in the South of France?'
`A certain number. There is at least one in every big city in the world. All over Europe they are scattered in the. country parts too; mostly ruined abbeys, old castles and such.'
`Do you know the whereabouts of any of those on the Riviera?'
Beddows shook his head. `No; I've never attended a ceremony outside England.'
After a moment John asked, `What do you really think of the Canon's prospects of getting Ellen out of prison?'
`It is difficult to say. To do so he has got to temporarily paralyze a system. That is a far more formidable undertaking than enforcing sleep on the members of an ordinary household. No one of average powers would even attempt it; but he is an Ipsissimus, and there are few things impossible to a Mage of that highest grade. There is, too, one thing in his favour. If he can succeed in bemusing the jailers into unlocking the right doors, he will have no difficulty with Ellen. He will have only to call her on the astral, and she will walk out.'
`Yes; that is just what we fear. Can you suggest any means by which we might cause her to resist his will?'
`Only a White Magician who has greater power than Copely Syle could cause her to do that.'
`Do you know of one?'
`No. I've naturally kept clear of anyone I believed to be working on the Right Hand side.'
Again John paused, then he said, `I take it from what you were telling us last night that Ellen's subservience to evil during the dark hours is not part of her nature, but entirely due to the fact that you ... you had her baptised into the Satanic faith?'
`That's so.'
`If she were re baptised into the Christian faith, would that destroy the influence that the Dark Powers have over her?'
`No. There is no point in hiding the truth. It was I who sold her to the Devil; so only I can redeem her.' `How would you do that?'
Beddows gave a harsh laugh. `I wouldn’t! Is it likely? It would mean my abjuring Satan.'
`But if you did? Say you abjured Satan here and now, on her behalf and on your own, would that take immediate effect? Would it result in her resisting when the Canon calls her to night on the astral, and remaining in her cell?'