“Well,” said Father Bundren at last, “this Rowley Thome seems confident, seems full of pride, which we’re told goes before a fall. But what’s that you’re consulting?”
“A book of Pennsylvania Dutch charms and spells. The Long Lost Friend. ”
“Wait,” Father Bundren said quickly. “Isn’t that a book of witch enchantments?”
“Not that exactly, as I think,” Thunstone said. “John George Hohman came to Pennsylvania early in the nineteenth century as an indentured servant. He worked off his indenture, he became respected for kindliness and help. His book recognizes evil influences, but mostly it’s about how to ward those off. Between times, he tells you how to cure sick horses and cattle, how to make molasses and beer and how to get rid of mice and rats.” He looked fixedly at Father Bundren. “I want to use a charm that’s included here. I hope you won’t object. I hope you’ll help me.”
“What charm is that?” It was almost a concession. Thunstone turned more leaves of the book. “Here it is,” he said, “page seventy-eight. It says, ‘To Compel a Thief to Return Stolen Goods.’ ”
“You think it would work?” asked Exum Layton, the first words he had spoken since he had come into the room.
“And why should it not work?” challenged Shimada. “A thief—isn’t Rowley Thome a confessed thief, by what his letter admits? And isn’t the Countess stolen goods? She is good. Read the charm out, Mr. Thunstone.”
Thunstone did so:
“Walk out early in the morning before sunrise to a juniper tree, and bend it with the left hand toward the rising sun—”
“Junipers grow out there in the parking area,” broke in Manco. “I noticed them. And it’s early, early morning now, sunrise is hours away. Excuse me, go on. ‘Toward the rising sun,’ you said.”
Thunstone read on:
“—while you are saying, Juniper tree, I shall bend and squeeze thee, until the thief has returned the stolen goods to the place from which he took them. Then you must take a stone and put it on the bush, and under the bush and stone you must place the skull of a malefactor.”
He paused: “Here are three crosses marked on the page,” he said.
Father Bundren bent to look. “Those must mean the signing of the cross three times. Thunstone, I take back my doubts about the worth of this formula. But do you believe it?”
“Yes, I do,” said Thunstone promptly. And here’s the end of it: ‘Yes you must be careful, in case the thief returns the stolen goods, to unloose the bush and replace the stone where it was before.’ See here, gentlemen, I’ve known this spell to work in Pennsylvania. I witnessed it myself.”
“I believe that spell, too,” spoke up Manco.
“If we all truly believe, it will work,” pronounced Father Bundren. “Chief Manco, lead us down to your juniper bush. And let’s bring along that Long Lost Friend book. We’ll follow it’s directions to the word.”
“But we need the skull of a malefactor,” reminded Thunstone.
“I can bring that,” said Shimada. “You will be out behind the Inn, you say? Go on down and wait for me there. I’ll find you.”
He was gone at a swift, scurrying run. When the others came into the hall, he was already out of sight.
They hurried down two flights of stairs, out through the almost-deserted lobby and out into the Inn’s parking area, among ranks of silent cars. Manco led the way, and Layton diffidently brought up the rear.
“Does anybody have a flashlight?” asked Manco, and Father Bundren handed him one. Manco turned on the beam and went to where shrubbery grew at the pavement where the parking area came to a border. He quested with the light among various growth, and then said “Wagh. ” He had come to a row of evergreen bushes.
“Here we are,” he said, standing above a shaggy specimen about four feet high. In the light of the torch it showed almost as tall as Manco’s chin. Its branches were thickly grown in small needles, whorl after whorl of them, Thunstone recognized it as a juniper,
“We need a stone to make it bend down,” he said.
“Here,” said Layton. “I’ve found one that ought to do.”
He had been questing here and there among the shrubbery. Now he came back with a stone the size of a loaf of bread. In the light of the torch it showed smooth, with blotches of gray and white.
“Thanks,” said Thunstone, taking it to examine.
“Now for that skull of a malefactor that Professor Shimada went to find,” said Father Bundren. “We’ll have to wait for that.”
Manco flicked off the light and handed it back to the priest. They stood silently together and waited. Thunstone burned inside with thoughts of Sharon, with a deep agonized wonder of where she might be, of what could be happening to her. Moments of time crawled past, seemed to join into an eternity. At last, at a very last:
“Here comes somebody,” said Father Bundren. “Yes, it’s Shimada.”
Shimada hastened to them. He held up a pale, round something, something with deep, dark eyeholes, with a row of grinning teeth.
“Whose skull is that?” asked Thunstone.
“We spoke of him earlier tonight,” said Shimada. “I got this from the tomb of Mayor Emdyke, who once worshiped the devil. He was certainly a malefactor.”
“How did you force the lock of the tomb?” was Thunstone’s next question, and Shimada’s teeth shone in a smile, shone almost like the teeth of the skull.
“Shinto,” he replied, and no more than that.
Manco went back to kneel at the juniper. “Let me have that,” he said, and took the skull and set it at the roots of the tree. “Now, what next?”
“Give me the flashlight,” said Thunstone, and tucked the stone under his arm and opened the Long Lost Friend, Again he read aloud: “ ‘Bend it with the left hand toward the rising sun—’ ”
Father Bundren bent down the juniper toward the east. He whispered something, probably a prayer,
Thunstone went ahead: “ ‘While you are saying, Juniper tree, I shall bend and squeeze thee, until the thief has returned the stolen goods to the place from which he took them.’ ”
Father Bundren repeated the words aloud. “And now the stone,” he said, still bending the juniper. He took the stone and weighted the branches down. The juniper sagged under the weight.
“And the triple sign of the cross,” said Father Bundren. He made the three signs, his hand moving carefully in the light of the electric torch. “And now, to see what happens.”
He turned toward Thunstone as he spoke, but Thunstone was off at a headlong run. He sped through the lobby and up the stairs, two stairs at a time, two flights. He almost flung himself at the half-open door of the room from which Sharon had been spirited.
“Sharon!”
“Oh,” her voice said, almost too softly to hear. “Oh, yes.”
She stood trembling in the middle of the floor, her blue robe huddled upon her. She looked at him, with wide, frightened eyes, Then she ran to him and they were in each other’s arms.
“Not so hard, dear, you’ll break my ribs,” she said. “Oh, thank God, thank God! How did I get back here?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in a minute. You’re all right, you haven’t been hurt?”
“No, but it was such a frightening thing. They got me away to some sort of house on the edge of town—”
“They?” he repeated. “They?”
“It was in a car. Rowley Thome and Grizel Fian. I don’t know where they took me—”
Father Bundren was at the door. Behind him stared Layton, and with Layton were Shimada and Manco.
“Is all well?” asked Father Bundren breathlessly.
“She’s back, and she doesn’t seem to have been hurt,” replied Thunstone, “The charm was good.”
“Because we all had faith,” said Father Bundren.
“I had faith,” murmured Sharon, still trembling as Thunstone held her. He seated her in a chair. She pulled her robe around her. Through its thin blue showed the
pink of her bare body,
“Now that stone must be taken from the juniper,” Thunstone reminded, “Must be put back where it came from.”
“I’ll go do that, I know just where it was before,” said Layton, and hurried away.
“And I would do well to return that skull,” spoke up Shimada.
“Let me go with you,” said Manco, and they departed, too.
“As for me,” said Father Bundren, “I’ll do some necessary things in the bathroom yonder. Something of what I did to keep evil influences out of your own room, Mr. Thunstone.”
He went through the open door. They heard his voice speaking rhythmically in Latin. Sharon sat and held Thunstone by his arm, shuddering as she clung. He put out his other hand to pick up the cross and chain from her bureau.
“Put this on, and keep it on,” he said.
“I will.” With shaky fingers she fastened it around her neck.
“And here,” said Thunstone, taking the silver bell. “Keep this with you, too.”
She cuddled the bell in her hand. It chimed faintly, musically.
Father Bundren came back to them. “I’ve done my best,” he said. “I invoked powerful holy names. And I went so far as to trace a cross in ink, on the window sill. If the management complains, I’ll pay whatever seems to come under the heading of damages. And you dropped this.” He held out Thunstone’s cane.
“Thank you,” said Thunstone, taking it. He had forgotten all about it.
“And I’ll say goodnight,” said Father Bundren, smiling. “Good morning, I should say.”
He went out closing the door behind him. Thunstone sat on the bed and Sharon came and sat close against him.
“Just what happened?” he asked her.
She drew up her shoulders inside the blue robe. “It was like a dream. An awful one. I suppose I was half unconscious—maybe I was hypnotized. We were in a car that ran along and ran along, somewhere to the edge of town, I think—”
“Which edge of town?”
“I don’t know which. I was foggy in my head, I think. But it was a house with trees thick all around it and they got me in—into a room with old brown wood paneling— and put me in a chair. And laughed. Rowley Thome kept laughing.”
Again she shuddered, as though an icy wind had struck her.
“What did he say to you?” demanded Thunstone. “Tell me everything.”
“Well—he kept crinkling his eyes and sniggering. And I told you, I was there with nothing on. He talked about how beautiful I was, how he didn’t blame you for being dazzled, and how he was dazzled himself. But Grizel Fian-—”
“She was there?”
“Yes, she’d been in the car, she’d come into the house. And she didn’t like how he acted toward me, and she said so. Her voice got shrill and sharp. But Rowley Thome laughed at her, too, Told her not to be jealous—told her that you’d soon be with them, be one of them. And he said he knew that she was drawn to you, and he’d help her with some kind of a love potion—”
She broke off and covered her face with her hands. Fear was still upon her.
“Did he touch you?” Thunstone asked her. “Did he dare do that?”
“No, he didn’t touch me. I don’t think that Grizel Fian would have let him. But he said that when the sun came up, everything would be arranged. That you’d be won over to them and you’d help them with some plan about the university here. I was too upset to understand just what they meant. And they offered me some wine, but I wouldn’t touch it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. All right, what then?”
“Oh, both of them talked and talked. I don’t know how long—maybe hours, for all I could tell. Then, all of a sudden, I was back here, picking up my robe and putting it on.” At last she seemed calm again.
“We got you back,” Thunstone told her. “Shimada and Manco and Father Bundren helped. We used a charm from this book, this Long Lost Friend," He took it from the pocket of his jacket. “Long lost or not, it came through for us. And you’re back safe, and you needn’t ever be afraid of Rowley Thome again,” His jaw grew square, his mouth hardened. “I’ll see to him before this day’s done.”
“And now what must I do?” Sharon asked.
“Lie down here on your bed and sleep. You need sleep.” Her hand went to her face again, “I couldn’t sleep, I’d be afraid to.”
“No,” he said, and rose and went to a chair. “I’ll sit here and watch while you sleep.”
“Oh, will you? Will you stay with me?”
Her tremulous tenseness had quite departed. She drew back the coverlet, lay down, and pulled the coverlet over her blue-robed body. Thunstone watched. She was silent. At last she breathed regularly. She slept.
Thunstone took off his jacket and laid it aside, doffed his shoes, loosened his tie and the collar of his shirt. From his cane he drew the silver blade. Stooping, he read again the words upon its flat:
Sic pereant omnes inimici tui, Domine.
He turned off the light in the room. Through the window beat a soft wash of moonglow. He sat down and laid the blade across his knees.
He watched Sharon as she lay there, quiet and trusting and at rest. He himself was dead tired from the adventures he had gone through. He closed his eyes and at last slumber came upon him, too.
XI
Thunstone did not sleep soundly in that chair. Disturbing dreams came, and he wakened again and again, to look at Sharon asleep on the bed. Once he rose and moved silently on shoeless feet to see her closer at hand. She slept quietly, motionlessly; she breathed easily and deeply. She seemed relaxed, trustful. He was glad for that, and returned to his armchair. He drifted off again, and this time no dream came.
When next he opened his eyes, the light of dawn showed at the window. Sharon stood in the room, dressed in a black suit of smooth, rich cloth. Her jacket flared slightly below the waist. Under the jacket she wore a white, stock-collared blouse, gathered under her chin with an ascot knot. Her hair was neatly combed, and she had on makeup. She smiled at him, smiled happily.
“Did you rest well?” she asked. “I tried not to make any noise as I got myself ready to go out. I dressed in the bathroom.”
“I’m glad they didn’t bewitch you out of it again,” said Thunstone, rising.
“But Father Bundren marked a cross on the window sill, and I wore this.” She touched the cross at her neck. “And I kept this.” She lifted the silver bell, and it faintly pealed. “And I’m all right.”
Thunstone pushed his feet into his shoes and took up his jacket. “Come to my room while I get ready for today,” he said. “I want you close at hand, every moment.”
“Yes, of course.”
They went to Thunstone’s quarters, and she sat on a chair. “Here,” he said, and handed her the Long Lost Friend. “You’ll find the spell that got you back on page seventy-eight.”
He carried fresh clothes into the bathroom, and quickly showered and shaved and dressed. When he came back, Sharon looked closely at him. He picked up his cane.
“You’re a handsome man, and I hope you want your breakfast as much as I want mine,” she said as they went out. “Do you suppose we’ll see Rowley Thome downstairs?”
“I hope so,” said Thunstone grimly. “I very much want to see him.”
They got into the elevator. They were alone in the cage. “What would you do if you met him?” Sharon asked.
“Never mind. I wouldn’t tell anybody that.”
“Not even me?”
“Especially not you.”
She smiled. It was a rather strange smile, faint but soft. “You sound stem,” she said, and he did not reply. As they rode down, the walls of the elevator seemed close, seemed almost crowding. Downstairs in the lobby they saw nobody they knew, anywhere, all their way to the dining room.
There, again, Thunstone’s eyes probed everywhere for familiar faces. At a table against the far wall sat Exum Layton and a slender young man with a brown face and stiff black hair. Layton sa
w Thunstone and Sharon, too, and lifted an arm as though to beckon. He and his companion rose as Thunstone led Sharon to the table.
“Good morning,” Layton greeted them. He seemed more cheerfully easy than Thunstone had seen him so far. “Let me introduce Mr. Oishi Kyoki. I stayed at his place last night.”
Oishi Kyoki bowed ceremoniously to Sharon and gave
Thunstone his lean brown hand, His face was young and thoughtful; his eyes were creased at the comers, “This is a great honor, sir,” he said, in accented English. “Professor Shimada ate breakfast early, very early, but he said I should stay and perhaps meet you. Please sit down with us, both of you.”
“Thank you,” said Sharon, and took a chair. Thunstone stood for a moment, studying the room and the guests at the table. At last he sat down himself.
“No sign of Thome, or of Grizel Fian,” he said.
“Might they be here in disguise?” Layton wondered apprehensively.
“I think I’d know them, even in disguise,” said Thunstone.
“And so, I think, would I,” said Kyoki.
A waiter came, and Sharon and Thunstone ordered their breakfasts. Kyoki spoke courteously in answer to questions from Thunstone.
“Mr. Layton here can be confident of safety with me,” he said. “No evil can pry and seek and find him where I live.”
“How can you defend him against that?” Sharon asked.
“Shinto,” smiled Kyoki. “If you know Shinto, it will defend.”
“Could you expound Shinto to me?” Thunstone suggested.
“Only if you would truly accept it as the one way to enlightenment.”
They talked as they ate. Kyoki repeatedly declared that he was honored to sit in the presence of Thunstone. Layton ventured to say that he was glad to have assisted, even so slightly, in the rescue of Sharon. As he spoke, he admired her with his eyes. When all had finished eating, Thunstone looked at his watch.
“Professor Pitt will speak at ten o’clock,” he said. “Shall we go over together?”
“I have classes with Professor Pitt,” said Kyoki. “He is inspiring.”
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