Pursuivant nodded. "My knowledge of underworld argot is rather limited,
but I believe that the correct phrase is 'lay off'. We're being told to
do that, and in a highly interesting manner. As to whether or not the
story is true, I'm greatly inclined to believe that it is."
I drew another cigarette from my package, and my hand trembled despite
itself. "Then the man is dangerous--Varduk, I mean. What is he trying
to do to Sigrid?"
"That is what perplexes me. Once, according to your little friend Jake
Switz, he defended her from some mysterious but dangerous beings. His
behavior argues that he isn't the only power to consider."
The judge held a match for my cigarette. His hand was steady, and its
steadiness comforted me.
"Now then," I said, "to prevent--whatever is being done."
"That's what we'd better talk about." Pursuivant took his stick and
rose to his feet. "Let's get on with our walk, and make sure this time
that nobody overhears us."
We began to saunter, while he continued, slowly and soberly:
"You feel that it is Miss Holgar who is threatened. That's no more
than guess-work on your part, supplemented by the natural anxiety of
a devoted admirer--if you'll pardon my mentioning that--but you are
probably right. Varduk seems to have exerted all his ingenuity and
charm to induce her to take a part in this play, and at this place. The
rest of you he had gathered more carelessly. It is reasonably safe to
say that whatever happens will happen to Miss Holgar."
"But what will happen?" I urged, feeling very depressed.
"That we do not know as yet," I began to speak again, but he lifted
a hand. "Please let me finish. Perhaps you think that we should do
what we can to call off the play, get Miss Holgar out of here. But I
reply, having given the matter deep thought, that such a thing is not
desirable."
"Not desirable?" I echoed, my voice rising in startled surprize. "You
mean, she must stay here? In heaven's name, why?"
"Because evil is bound to occur. To spirit her away will be only a
retreat. The situation must be allowed to develop--then we can achieve
victory. Why, Connatt," he went on warmly, "can you not see that the
whole atmosphere is charged with active and super-normal perils? Don't
you know that such a chance, for meeting and defeating the power of
wickedness, seldom arises? What can you think of when you want to run
away?"
"I'm not thinking of myself, sir," I told him. "It's Sigrid. Miss
Holgar."
"Handsomely put. All right, then; when you go back to the lodge, tell
her what we've said and suggest that she leave."
I shook my head, more hopelessly than before. "You know that she
wouldn't take me seriously."
"Just so. Nobody will take seriously the things we are beginning to
understand, you and I. We have to fight alone--but we'll win." He began
to speak more brightly. "When is the play supposed to have its first
performance?"
"Sometime after the middle of July. I've heard Varduk say as much
several times, though he did not give the exact date."
Pursuivant grew actually cheerful. "That means that we have three weeks
or so. Something will happen around that time--presumably on opening
night. If time was not an element, he would not have defended her on
her first night here."
I felt somewhat reassured, and we returned from our stroll in fairly
good spirits.
Varduk again spoke cordially to Pursuivant, and invited him to stay to
dinner. "I must ask that you leave shortly afterward," he concluded the
invitation. "Our rehearsals have something of secrecy about them. You
won't be offended if----"
"Of course not," Pursuivant assured him readily, but later the judge
found a moment to speak with me. "Keep your eyes open," he said
earnestly. "He feels that I, in some degree familiar with occult
matters, might suspect or even discover something wrong about the play.
We'll talk later about the things you see."
* * * * *
The evening meal was the more pleasant for Judge Pursuivant's
high-humored presence. He was gallant to the ladies, deferential to
Varduk, and witty to all of us. Even the pale, haunted face of our
producer relaxed in a smile once or twice, and when the meal was over
and Pursuivant was ready to go, Varduk accompanied him to the door,
speaking graciously the while.
"You will pardon me if I see you safely to the road. It is no more than
evening, yet I have a feeling----"
"And I have the same feeling," said Pursuivant, not at all heavily. "I
appreciate your offer of protection."
Varduk evidently suspected a note of mockery. He paused. "There are
things, Judge Pursuivant," he said, "against which ordinary protection
would not suffice. You have borne arms, I believe, yet you know that
they will not always avail."
[Illustration: "There are things against which ordinary protection
would not suffice."]
They had come to the head of the front stairs, leading down to the
lobby of the theater. The others at table were chattering over a second
cup of coffee, but I was straining my ears to hear what the judge and
Varduk were saying.
"Arms? Yes, I've borne them," Pursuivant admitted. "Oddly enough, I'm
armed now. Should you care to see?"
He lifted his malacca walking-stick in both hands, grasping its shank
and the handle. A twist and a jerk, and it came apart, revealing a
few inches of metal. Pursuivant drew forth, as from a sheath, a thin,
gleaming blade.
"Sword-cane!" exclaimed Varduk admiringly. He bent for a closer look.
"And a singularly interesting one," elaborated Pursuivant. "Quite old,
as you can see for yourself."
"Ah, so it is," agreed Varduk. "I fancy you had it put into the cane?"
"I did. Look at the inscription."
Varduk peered. "Yes, I can make it out, though it seems worn." He
pursed his lips, then read aloud, very slowly: "_Sic pereant omnes
inimici tui, Domine._ It sounds like Scripture."
"That's what it is, Mr. Varduk," Pursuivant was saying blandly. "The
King James Version has it: 'So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord.'
It's from Deborah's song--fifth chapter of _Judges_."
Varduk was plainly intrigued. "A war-like text, I must say. What knight
of the church chose it for his battle cry?"
"Many have chosen it," responded the judge. "Shall we go on?"
They walked down the stairs side by side, and so out of my sight and
hearing.
* * * * *
When Varduk returned he called us at once to rehearsal. He was as alert
as he had been the night before, but much harder to please. Indeed,
he criticized speeches and bits of stage business that had won his
high praise at the earlier rehearsal, and several times he called for
repetitions and new interpretations. He also announced that at the
third rehearsal, due the next day, he would take away our scripts.
"You are all accomplished actors," he amplified. "You need nothing to
refresh good memories."
"I'd like to keep my book," begged Martha Vining, but Varduk smiled and
shook his head.
"You'll be better without," he said definitely.
When we approached the climactic scene, with Swithin's attempt to
kill Ruthven and Mary's attempted sacrifice, Varduk did not insist on
stage business; in fact, he asked us flatly to speak our lines without
so much as moving from our places. If this was to calm us after the
frightening events of the night before, it did not succeed. Everyone
there remembered the accidental sword-thrust, and Varduk's seeming
invulnerability; it was as though their thoughts were doleful spoken
words.
Rehearsal over--again without the final line by Ruthven--Varduk bade us
a courteous good-night and, as before, walked out first with Sigrid and
Martha Vining. I followed with Jake, but at the threshold I touched
his arm.
"Come with me," I muttered, and turned toward the front of the lodge.
Varduk and the two women had gone out of sight around the rear of the
building. Nobody challenged us as we walked silently in the direction
of the road, but I had a sensation as of horrors all around me,
inadequately bound back with strands that might snap at any moment.
"What's it about, Gib?" asked Jake once, but at that moment I saw what
I had somehow expected and feared to see.
A silent figure lay at the foot of the upward-sloping driveway to the
road. We both ran forward, coming up on either side of that figure.
The moon showed through broken clouds. By its light we recognized Judge
Pursuivant, limp and apparently lifeless. Beside him lay the empty
shank of his walking-stick. His right fist still clenched around the
handle, and the slender blade set therein was driven deeply into the
loam.
I did not know what to do, but Jake did. He knelt, scooped the judge's
head up and set it against his knee, then slapped the flaccid cheeks
with his open palm. Pursuivant's eyelids and mustache fluttered.
Jake snorted approvingly and lifted his own crossed eyes to mine. "I
guess he's all right, Gib. Just passed out is all. Maybe better you go
to Varduk and ask for some brand----"
He broke off suddenly. He was staring at something behind me.