The Irish Witch

by Dennis Wheatley

  To the plump man she added, ‘You need have no apprehension, Mynheer, regarding the discretion of this young lady. She and her mother, Lady Luggala, are among my most valuable sources for collecting useful tittle-tattle in high society, and both are as devoted as you or I to the Emperor’s cause.’

  The Dutchman kissed Jemima’s hand and expressed his pleasure at meeting so charming an ally; then they seated themselves and, speaking fluent English with only a slight accent, he went on:

  ‘I was just saying how happy I am to be able to report that His Imperial Majesty’s affairs are in far better shape than any of us had reason to expect after the terrible disaster he met with last winter. His vitality and resource are truly inexhaustible. The negotiations for an armistice, which were begun in February, are still proceeding and if one can be arranged that will be all to the good, since it will give him more time to equip and train the new army he is forming.

  ‘Fortunately, last September, while still in Moscow, he had the forethought to send orders back to France for the call-up of the class due for conscription in 1813, and it is estimated that will bring him some one hundred and thirty-seven thousand new troops. Further levies are being raised in Italy, the Netherlands, Westphalia, Bavaria, Saxony and other German lands. Including those he is withdrawing from Spain, he should have under his hand nearly six hundred and fifty thousand men by the summer. A great part of these have yet to be embodied and trained, and he still has a heavy commitment in Spain, but already over two hundred thousand are available in the army of the West, and they hold all the fortresses on the Elbe, the Weser and the Oder.’

  ‘That is indeed good news,’ smiled the beautiful witch. ‘But what of our enemies?’

  ‘The pursuit of the Grande Armée cost the Russians dear, Madame. They suffered almost as severely as the French from campaigning in such intense cold and living on starvation rations. So poor is their condition that General Kutusov is known to favour entering on a peace, as opposed to the Czar, whose ambition has been fired by his success in driving the French from his country. He has ordered the formation of a reserve army, but the Russians are poor organisers and have great distances to cover, so it will probably be many months before these new conscripts are available for operations. In the meantime, it is believed that the Russian army in the field has been reduced to not much more than one hundred thousand men.’

  ‘And the Prussians? I recall that General von Yorck, who commanded the Prussian contingent in the invasion of Russia, ratted on his chief, Marshal Macdonald and, in the last stage of the retreat, slunk off to Poland without his men having fired a shot.’

  ‘That is true, Madame; and it has since been learned that he had been secretly instructed by his King to avoid giving aid to his French allies, wherever possible. It was the same in the case of General von Schwarzenberg, who commanded the Austrian Corps on the other wing.’

  ‘What shameful conduct!’ exclaimed Jemima. ‘I only pray that events will enable the Emperor to punish both sovereigns for their treachery.’

  Cornelius Quelp nodded. ‘The summer campaign may well enable him to do so, at least in the case of the King of Prussia; but at the moment the situation is extremely confused. Technically, Russia and Prussia are still at war, and King Frederick William is too cowardly a man to defy the Emperor by openly changing sides. Yet von Yorck and the army he commands have as good as done so, for he has made a pact with the Russian General Diebitch, which allows the enemy to advance along the Prussian coastal roads without opposition.

  ‘Still more embarrassing for the pusillanimous King is the attitude of his people. For years past, men like Fichte, Stein and Steffens have been inciting the German masses to revolt and drive the French from their territories. Even Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, the King’s principal military advisers, are pressing him to break with France. But should he do so, it will be at his peril. It is doubtful if Prussia could raise an army of forty thousand men. The Danes are our staunch allies, also Bavaria and Saxony, and Marshal Davout holds Hanover in a grip of iron. After the retreat from Russia we still had a garrison of thirty thousand in Danzig alone, General Regnier retired on Warsaw with forty thousand, Prince Eugène lies behind him with a field army of sixteen thousand. In Brandenberg and the fortresses we have at least another thirty thousand; so, with the addition of the great reinforcements that the Emperor is sending across the Rhine, even supported by Russia what chance would those miserable Prussians have?’

  ‘So far, Mynheer, you have said naught of Austria,’ the witch remarked shrewdly.

  ‘From that direction lies our only danger,’ Quelp replied. ‘She is still allied to France, but only keeping up an appearance of hostilities against Russia. She is known to be bringing her army up to one hundred and fifty thousand men and, did she once again turn her coat, that would give our enemies parity.’

  ‘You fail to take into account the genius of the Emperor,’ put in Jemima.

  ‘No, no!’ Quelp smiled. ‘I am far from doing that. And, since the councils of the others would be divided, I doubt not he would emerge victorious.’

  For a further half-hour they continued to discuss the situation on the Continent, marvelling that Napoleon had made such a swift and remarkable recovery after his defeat in Russia, and with their confidence renewed that he would yet again defeat the combination which was forming against him. Then Mynheer Quelp took his leave.

  As soon as the door had closed behind him, Jemima told her mother about the letters from Charles, then said how shattered she had been to learn that he was engaged to Susan, and apparently still deeply in love with her. When she had done, her mother said thoughtfully:

  ‘It is just possible that Maureen Luggala is right in that Charles now regrets having become affianced to Susan, but lacks the courage to break it off. Yet I am inclined to doubt that. Were it so, having no reason to suppose that Susan would ever see his letter to you, he would have expressed himself much more passionately in it.’

  Jemima made a grimace. ‘Alas, that is what I also feel. And worse—his stating that he means to marry Susan the moment he gets back from the war sadly reduced my hopes. Charles has no streak of cruelty in him, so would never have confirmed her belief that he intends to make her his wife did he not consider his promise binding.’

  ‘Then we must find some other husband for you. What think you of Lord Broughton? It is a fine place he has in Yorkshire, and he is mightily good-looking.’

  ‘Nay. He is a most consummate bore, and can talk of naught but dogs and horses.’

  ‘Everard Winstanley, then? Although he has no title, he is one of the richest men in England.’

  ‘He is so inveterate a gambler that he may not remain so for much longer. ’Tis said that but a se’nnight since he lost five thousand guineas wagering that one raindrop running down a window in White’s Club would reach the sill before another.’

  ‘The Earl of Tulloch? His Scottish estate alone is near the size of a county, and he has others in Wales and Somerset.’

  ‘I thank you, no. He openly boasts that no bawdy house in London procures a new girl of any beauty but he’s the first to have her. He’d give me the pox before I’d been married to him a month.’

  ‘Young Hector Vaughan is both personable and witty, and he will inherit much property in London and Ardesley Hall when the old Lord, his father, dies.’

  ‘I’ve no mind to make do on an allowance while waiting for dead men’s shoes.’

  ‘Sir Denison Hever-Crew then. He …’

  ‘No, mother, no!’ Jemima interrupted impatiently. ‘My mind is set on having Charles. His letter to Susan has revealed that all the odds are now against me. Or would be, had I not you for my mother. But you are not as other mothers. You are versed in the secret arts that can alter people’s destinies. Use them for me, I beg.’

  ‘There are limits, child, to what can be done in that way. To influence a person in a matter concerning them so vitally as turning love to dislike it is necessary to hav
e frequent converse with them. Could you bring Susan here to me so that I became well acquainted with the girl I could, in time, dominate her mind. But that is not possible because, as you will recall, that fool Hawksbury brought her here last New Year’s Eve without preparing her for what would take place. The little prude was shocked and Charles wrought havoc with our ceremony to get her away. Since we were face to face, ‘tis certain she would recognise me. Knowing me for what I am, she would instantly oppose my every thought, and as soon make friends with the Devil as with myself.’

  ‘Were matters otherwise, how would you proceed to turn her mind against Charles?’

  ‘By mesmerism.’

  ‘I have heard the term, but know little of it.’

  ‘ ’Tis a form of occultism introduced by a Dr. Anton Mesmer. In Paris, just before the Revolution, he opened a clinic and there performed many miracles of healing. But it can also be used for other purposes. People can be made to believe that when drinking water it is wine. By a series of treatments they can be persuaded that their friends are really enemies, and to perform acts that they would recoil from in horror had their minds not been distorted by this mysterious influence.’

  ‘Can anyone learn to use this power?’

  ‘Given sufficient concentration, the majority of people can.’

  Jemima’s dark eyes suddenly lit up. ‘Then I pray you, mother, teach me this strange art. Yesterday I was made most welcome at Stillwaters. It should not be difficult for me to become Susan’s bosom friend. Then, if I had this power, I could secretly employ it gradually to dominate her mind.’

  The Irish witch smiled. ‘You are indeed my daughter. So be it then. You shall practise with my guidance on the servants here, daily for the next few weeks. If your thought forces became really potent, the game will then be in our hands. You will have the power to cause Susan to doubt Charles’s love for her, or if need be become so mentally ill as to be unfit to marry.’

  11

  Home Again! Home Again!

  Roger had kept a record of the days, and it was the morning of April 19th when he and Mary left the Indian settlement in which they had stayed nine days. One of the big war canoes had been made ready with a good supply of provisions and tentage in it. Leaping Squirrel took twelve braves with him to propel the canoe, and four naked ‘foreheads’ as servants. With a specially-shaped paddle he steered the canoe from the stern, while Mary and Roger sat in front of him on piles of blankets.

  They had some eighty miles to go, the latter part of the way lying through places where the river was so wide that it really formed a series of lakes; but, as they were heading downstream both along the tributary and later when they turned east into the St. Lawrence, they travelled at a good speed.

  That night they landed and made camp on the south side of the river, for at that date the State of Vermont extended only to the latitude of Rouse’s Point, at the head of Lake Champlain, and all the territory north of it was still part of Canada. Having no fear of hostile Indians there, a camp fire was made and a good meal enjoyed; but afterwards they were put to the inconvenience of shifting camp a quarter of a mile further along the shore, as a swarm of huge, black ants had been attracted by the smell of cooking.

  The following morning they made an early start and soon after midday emerged from a lake, crossed narrower water to the north shore, and landed on the island of Montreal.

  Before leaving the settlement Mary had given two little, silver-topped bottles, one of which contained smelling salts and the other a residue of opium to dull pain, to the old squaws who had tended her. Now, wishing to leave the twelve braves some small souvenirs, she cut into strips a gaily-coloured, silk scarf that she had bought in New York, and tied a strip round the arm of each man. Their gratitude was profound and, kneeling in turn, they kissed the hem of her fur coat. Meanwhile, Roger had presented Leaping Squirrel with his sword, and nothing could have more delighted their cherished Indian friend.

  After taking an affectionate leave of him, they hired a carriage on the waterfront and were driven to the Governor’s residence. Their clothes were so worn and stained that when Roger asked to see the Governor, the footman who had admitted them looked at him askance. Ignoring the man, Roger sat down at a table in the hall which had writing materials on it, and wrote a brief note, handed it to him and said abruptly:

  ‘Don’t stand there staring. Take that to His Excellency and be quick about it.’

  Impressed by Roger’s air of authority, the servant’s manner instantly changed. Bowing, he took the paper and said, ‘His Excellency is from home, Sir, down at the headquarters in Ottawa. But I’ll take this to his deputy, Brigadier General Sir Wallace Warren.’

  Roger had written in the note, ‘My wife, Lady Mary Brook, and I have recently succeeded in crossing the border from the United States. While there I obtained information that may be of value, and request the honour of an interview.’

  His mention of Mary had been deliberate, as he felt certain that, on realising they were people of quality, the Governor would not fob them off on some subordinate. After a few minutes the footman returned, led them down a passage and ushered them into a handsome, book-lined room.

  The General proved to be a short, stout little man with a rubicund face and slightly protruding blue eyes. Standing up, he came round his desk and greeted them cordially. In the course of the next few minutes Roger gave an abbreviated account of how they came to be in America and their adventures since leaving French Mills, then he said:

  ‘Perhaps, Sir, you would be good enough to give me the name of the best hostel in the city, where we can lodge in reasonable comfort and replenish our sadly depleted wardrobes before proceeding on our journey. I will, of course, wait upon you again at any time that may be convenient, to give you, or one of your officers, such particulars as I can regarding the forces of our enemy.’

  ‘No, no!’ the General protested quickly. ‘You must be our guests while in Montreal, and it is now too late in the day for you to purchase your requirements. Tomorrow will be time enough. My wife will be happy to lend Lady Mary a change of clothes for this evening, and we will dine informally.’

  Roger gladly accepted the offer. A little later, Lady Warren joined them. She was elderly, white-haired and limped in, using a stick, as she was a martyr to arthritis. But her forbidding expression became a kindly one when she was told what Mary had been through and, with motherly concern, she took her upstairs. Sir Wallace then turned Roger over to his valet. An hour later, when they met again, bathed and in borrowed plumage, they felt like different people.

  At dinner, besides themselves and the Warrens, there were only the A.D.C. and his wife: a pretty, snub-nosed, vivacious young woman. Over the meal the four residents were fascinated by the account Roger and Mary gave of their stay in an Indian settlement. Afterwards, when the ladies had retired, the General suggested that they should take their port into the library.

  There, while the A.D.C. took notes, Roger gave particulars of the military situation on the other side of the river. Having spent so many years with armies, he was a highly-trained observer, so was able to provide an expert appreciation of the strength, morale and communications of the United States forces on that front.

  During the three days that followed, Roger and Mary re-equipped themselves with clothes, portmanteaux and other necessities, mainly at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s store. They were surprised to find how large a proportion of the inhabitants of the city were of French descent and still spoke Canadian French; but they had been under British rule for fifty years and, their hereditary enemies having been the Americans, there could be no doubt where their loyalties lay. They had also largely contributed to making Montreal a more pleasant place in which to live than most American cities, for they had retained the culinary art of their ancestors. Roger and Mary discovered this on their second day, when the A.D.C. and his wife took them to dine at a restaurant in the old French quarter. It was the most sophisticated meal they had enjoyed f
or many a day.

  On April 23rd they took leave of the hospitable Warrens, and went aboard a brig in which the General had secured passages for them down the freely navigable stretch of the St. Lawrence to Quebec.

  The wind being favourable, the brig covered the one hundred and sixty-odd miles in good time, and they landed in Quebec on the 25th. Sir Wallace had provided Roger with an introduction to the Governor, Vice-Admiral Sir Cyprian Crow, so they were welcomed by him at Admiralty House that evening, on his return from inspecting the Royal Marine Depot. In the meantime they had been entertained by a Mrs. Rusholm, the Admiral’s widowed sister who, as he was a bachelor, had come out to run his house for him. She had at once invited them to stay and the Admiral became even more genial when it transpired that he had been a junior Captain under Roger’s father, the late Admiral Sir Christopher Brook.

  That night there was a dinner party at which most of the other guests were officers, and Roger found that he shared mutual acquaintances with several of them. As Mrs. Rusholm employed a French chef, the meal was excellent, and the glasses were kept well filled throughout, so it proved a merry evening. After the loyal toast, the Admiral proposed, ‘To Hell and Davy Jones with the Americans’, which was drunk with enthusiasm by all.

  Next morning Roger consulted his host about a passage back to England, Gouverneur Morris’s loan enabling him to add that he could afford to pay for the best accommodation available. Upon which the jovial sailor exclaimed:

  ‘Pay be damned! If my old chief’s son is not entitled to a free passage home, who in thunder is? I’ve a frigate with despatches sailing in the course of a week. You met Captain Saunders at dinner last night. He’s the “owner”. You and your lady will sail with him. Meantime, we’ll do our best to make your stay in this town of friendly frog-eaters as enjoyable as possible.’