The Devil Rides Out

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘Don’t let’s have that all over again,’ Rex begged. ‘We argued it long enough in the car on the way here, and De Richleau’s assured you time and again that no harm will come to Richard and Marie Lou providing we take reasonable precautions.’

  ‘That is so,’ the Duke nodded. ‘And your help will be invaluable. You see, Simon’s resistance is practically nil owing to his having been under Mocata’s influence for so long, and Rex and I are at a pretty low ebb after last night. We need every atom of vitality which we can get to protect him, and your coming fresh into the battle should turn the scale in our favour. What we should have done if you had thrown us out I can’t think, because I know of no one else who wouldn’t have considered us all to be raving lunatics.’

  Richard laughed. ‘My dear fellow, how can you even suggest such a thing? You would still be welcome here if you’d committed murder.’

  I may have to before long,’ De Richleau commented soberly. ‘The risk to myself is a bagatelle compared to the horrors which may overwhelm the world if Mocata succeeds in getting possession of the Talisman-but I won’t involve you in that of course.’

  This Sabbat you saw …’ Richard hazarded after a moment. ‘Don’t think I’m doubting your account of it, but isn’t it just possible that your eyes deceived you in the darkness? I mean about the Satanic part. Everyone knows that Sabbats took place all over England in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. But it is generally accepted now that they were only an excuse for a bit of a blind and a sexual orgy. Country people had no motor bikes and buses to take them in to local cinemas then, and the Church frowned on all but the mildest forms of amusement, so the bad hats of the community used to sneak off to some quiet spot every now and again to give their repressed complexes an airing. Are you sure that it was not a revival of that sort of thing staged by a group of wealthy decadents?’

  ‘Not on your life,’ Rex declared with a sudden shiver. ‘I’ve never been scared all that bad before and, believe you me, it was the real business.’

  ‘What do you wish us to do, Greyeyes dear?’ Marie Lou asked the Duke.

  He hoisted himself slowly out of the chair into which he had sunk. ‘I must drive to Oxford. An old Catholic priest whom I know lives there and I am going to try and persuade him to entrust me with a portion of the Blessed Host. If he will, that is the most perfect of all protections which we could have to keep with us through the night. In the meantime, I want the rest of you to look after Simon.’ He smiled affectionately in Simon’s direction. ‘You must forgive me treating you like a child for the moment, my dear boy, but I don’t want the others to let you out of their sight until I return.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Simon agreed cheerfully. ‘But are you certain that I’m not-er-carrying harmful things about with me still?’

  ‘Absolutely. The purification ceremonies which I practised on you last night have banished all traces of the evil. Our business now is to keep you free of it and get on Mocata’s trail as quickly as we can.’

  ‘Then I think I’ll rest for a bit.’ Simon glanced at Richard as he followed the Duke towards the door. The nap we had at the hotel in Amesbury after breakfast wasn’t long enough to put me right-and afterwards perhaps you could lend me a decent suit of clothes?’

  ‘Of course,’ Richard smiled, ‘Let’s see Greyeyes off, then I’ll make you comfortable upstairs.’

  The whole party filed into the hall and, crowding about the low nail-studded oaken door, watched De Richleau, who promised to be back before dark, drive off. Then Richard, taking Simon by the arm, led him up the broad Jacobean stairway, while Marie Lou turned to Rex.

  `What do you really think of all this?’ she asked gravely, the usual merriment of her deep blue eyes clouded by a foreboding of coming trouble.

  He stared down at her upturned heart-shaped face from his great height and answered soberly. `We’ve struck a gateway of Hell all right, my dear, and I’m just worried out of my wits. De Richleau didn’t give you the whole story. There’s a girl in this that I’m-well-that I’m crazy about.’

  `Rex!’ Marie Lou laid her small strong hand on his arm. `How awful for you. Come into my room and tell me everything.’

  He followed her to her sitting-room and for half an hour poured into her sympathetic ears the strange tale of his three glimpses of Tanith at different times abroad, and then his unexpected meeting with her at Simon’s party. Afterwards he related with more detail than the Duke had done their terrible experiences on Salisbury Plain and was just beginning his anxious speculation as to what could have happened to Tanith when Malin, the butler, softly opened the door.

  `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 once-quickly-without 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 now-loved 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 22

  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 alone-the one thing that De Richleau had been so insistent should not be

  allowed to happen. True, she and Richard would have 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 once-immediately; 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 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, not 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 our 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 in-we 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.’

  Mocata was not deceived by that ingenious fiction. He guessed at once her true reason for denying him the chocolates and was quick to realise that in this lovely young woman, who stood no taller than a well-grown child, he was up against a far cleverer antagonist than he had at first supposed. However, he was amply satisfied with the progress he had made so far, sensing that her first antagonism had already given way to a guarded interest. He must talk to her a little, his eyes and voice would do the rest. For a moment they stared at each other in silence. Then he opened his attack in a new direction.

  ‘Mrs. Eaton, it is quite obvious to me that you distrust me and, after what your friends have told you, I am not surprised. But your intelligence emboldens me to think that I am likely to serve my purpose better by putting my cards on the table than by beating about the bush.’

  ‘It will make no difference what you do,’ said Marie Lou quietly.

  He ignored the remark and went on in his low, slightly lisping voice. ‘I do not propose to discuss with you the rights or wrongs of practising the Magic Art. I will confine myself to saying that I am a practitioner of some experience and Simon, who has interested himself in these things for the past few months, shows great promise of one day achieving considerable powers. Monsieur De Richleau has probably led you to suppose that I am a most evil person. But in fairness to myself I must protest that such a view of me is quite untrue. In magic, there is neither good nor evil. It is only the science of causing change to occur by means of will. The rather sinister reputation attaching to it is easily accounted for by the fact that it had to be practised in secret for many centuries owing to the ban placed upon it by the Church. Anything which is done in secret naturally begets a reputation for mystery and, since it dare not face the light of day, the reverse of good. Few people understand anything of these mysteries, and I can hardly assume that you have more than vague impressions gathered from casual reading; but at least I imagine you will have heard that genuine adepts in the secret Art have the power to call certain entities, which are not understood or admitted by the profane, into actual being.

  ‘Now these are perfectly harmless as long as they are under the control of the practitioner, just as a qualified electrician stands no risk in adjusting a powerful electric battery from which a child, who played foolishly with it, might receive a serious shock or even death. This analogy applies to the work Simon and I are engaged upon. We have called a certain entity into being just as workers in another sphere might have constructed an electrical machine. It needs both of us to operate this thing with skill and safety, but if I am to be left to handle it alone, the forces which we have engendered will undoubtedly escape and do the very gravest harm both to Simon and myself. Have I made the position clear?’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured Marie Lou. During that long explanatory speech he had been regarding her with a steady stare, and as she Listened to his quiet, cultured voice expressing what seemed such obvious truths, she felt her whole reaction to his personality changing. It suddenly seemed to her absurd that this nice, charming gentleman in the neat grey suit could be dangerous to anyone. His face seemed to have lost its puffy appearance even while he was speaking, and now her eyes beheld it as only hairless, pink and clean like that of some elderly divine.

  ‘I am so glad,’ he went on in his even, silky tone. ‘I felt quite sure that if you allowed me a few moments I could clear up this misunderstanding which has only arisen through the over-eagerness of your old friend the Duke, and that charming young American, to protect Simon from some purely imaginary danger. If I had only had the oppor
tunity to explain to them personally I am quite convinced that I should have been able to save them a great deal of worry, but I only met them for a few moments one evening at Simon’s house. It is a charming little place that, and he very kindly permits me to share it with him while I am in England. If you are in London during the next few weeks, I do hope that you will come and see us there. We both know without asking that Simon would be delighted, and it would give me the very greatest pleasure to show you my collection of perfumes, which I always take with me when I travel.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I am rather an expert in the art of blending perfumes, and quite a number of my women friends have allowed me to make a special scent for them. It is a delicate art, and interesting, because each woman should have her own perfume made to conform to her aura and personality. You have an outstanding individuality, Mrs. Eaton, and it would be a very great pleasure if you would allow me some time to see if I could not compound something really distinctive in that way for you.’

  ‘It sounds most interesting,’ Marie Lou’s voice was low and Mocata’s eyes still held hers. Really, she felt, despite his bulk, he was a most attractive person, and she had been quite stupid to be a little frightened of him when he first entered the room. The May sunshine came in gently-moving shafts through the foliage of a tree outside the window, so that the dappled light played upon his face, and it was that, she thought, which gave her the illusion that his unblinking eyes were larger than when she had first looked into them.

  ‘When will the Duke be back?’ he asked softly. ‘Unfortunately, my visit today must be a brief one, but I should so much have liked to talk this matter over quietly with him before I go.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Marie Lou found herself answering. ‘But I’m afraid he won’t be back before six.’

  ‘And our American friend-the young giant,’ he prompted her.

  “I’ve no idea. He has gone down to the village.’

  ‘I see. What a pity, but of course your husband is here entertaining Simon, is he not?’