The faces of that excited group seemed as demoniacal as the power they
had worshipped, and about me I heard ominous words--words which caused
me to grip my weapon resolutely. My arm was still around Muriel's
waist, for I saw that another attempt would probably be made upon her,
so incensed were they that she should have betrayed them. The cult of
Satan worships in secret, hiding their infamous rites in underground
temples--as well they may--and the votaries of the Evil One are under
oath not to divulge the whereabouts of the Devil's dwelling-place or the
character of their blasphemies and outrages, on penalty of death. Truly
this religion of darkness, springing as it has done from the
drawing-rooms of debased Paris, is a terrible and awful spectacle in our
present enlightened age.
I glanced around. The doors were closed, and there were only two of us
armed, while the daggers used for the piercing of the sacred element
were gleaming in several hands. They now numbered nearly a dozen to
each of us, and I knew that if we had to defend the two women we loved
we should be compelled to fight desperately.
"Forgive me!" implored Aline, looking into her lover's face. "I swear
that I have always loved you, and that I have been what you believed me
to be, an honest woman. Tell me," she cried, falling again upon her
knees before him. "Tell me, Jack, that you will forgive me, now that
you know all."
"I do not know all," he answered, in a hard voice. "You confess to
having visited Morgan immediately before his death."
"But I did not commit the crime!" she said wildly. "I am innocent--
innocent!"
Some jeering laughter greeted this terribly earnest protest. Those
around, mostly better-class people, judging from their dress and speech,
now took a keen delight in her disgrace and grief.
"He was her lover, and she killed him when she knew that he had not died
at Monte Carlo!" somebody exclaimed. "She wanted to marry the parson."
"It's untrue. I swear it is!" she cried. "We had flirted at Monte
Carlo, but I had no thought beyond his friendship. When I left him on
that fatal morning we parted the best of friends. Not until next day
did I know of his strange death, then reported in the papers."
At the moment Muriel, who had remained silent and motionless, as if
listening intently, suddenly disengaged herself from my embrace, and
walking boldly forward, exclaimed in a loud, firm voice--
"Enough! The mystery of poor Roddy's death shall no longer cause your
estrangement from your lover, Aline. Listen!" Then turning to me, she
added: "You will remember that once, about eighteen months ago, when I
was having tea one Sunday at your rooms, Roddy called, and you
introduced us."
"Yes," I cried, suddenly remembering. "I had always believed that you
were unacquainted, but I remember quite well now."
"A few days later I met him in Oxford Street, and from that time we were
friends, although I saw but very little of him. One day, however, by a
word I let drop, he suspected that I was connected with this terrible
cult of Evil, and at once asked me to reveal some of its secrets,
because he was about to ask a question in Parliament upon the subject,
and wished to obtain reliable information. The asking of a question
upon such a subject would, he knew, cause a great sensation, and if not
armed with facts he must bring himself into ridicule. Well, I confess
that I told him something of the rites, and afterwards, at his urgent
request, brought him here by the secret way through which I brought you
to-night. Unfortunately, however, his presence was detected, and his
identity established; although at the time I had no idea that such was
the case."
I noticed how the white-faced band of Satanists exchanged glances of
fear as they listened to her words spoken clearly and fearlessly. She,
too, glanced round at them with a look of hatred and defiance.
"The day on which he accompanied me here was," she continued, "three
days prior to his death. I was in the habit of meeting him at railway
stations of an evening and imparting to him various information until he
knew almost as much of the ways and doings of the Diabolists as I did
myself. We had an arrangement by which, if he was unable to keep an
appointment, his man should come and bring me a letter with a blank
sheet of paper, by which I should know that to keep the appointment was
impossible. We met at railway stations for two reasons: first, because
the Satanists should not discover my dealings with this Member of
Parliament who would, in a few days, startle England with his
statements; and, secondly, because you, Clifton, should not call and
find me with your friend."
"Extraordinary!" I ejaculated. "Then the note taken by Ash to the
King's Cross terminus was meant for you?"
"Certainly," she responded. "I, however, mistook the hour of our
appointment, and having that day obtained information that the Satanists
had discovered that he had been present, I hastened to warn him of his
danger. Too eager to wait and keep the appointment, and fearing lest
harm should befall him, I went straight to his chambers, arriving, I
suppose, immediately after Aline had left. The door was ajar, so
pushing it open I entered. There were strange sounds in the
sitting-room, and in order to discover the reason of them I slipped
behind one of the bedroom doors to listen. Scarce, however, had I done
this when there were hurrying footsteps in the passage as a man went
out. I believed the footsteps to be yours, Clifton. Then when he had
descended the stairs I crept on into Roddy's room, but drew back
horrified a second later. I was too late. He was dying. I tried to
rouse him, but he clutched my dress so frantically that he tore it and
held a piece of black chiffon in his clenched hand. He had, I knew,
been poisoned, and in the paroxysm his agony was frightful. Powerless,
I stood beside him for a few moments until the last spark of life had
left, then reproaching myself bitterly for my tardiness, I flew from the
house, fearing lest suspicion should fall upon me. I was witness of
that crime, and to ease my conscience I confessed to Mr Yelverton, then
curate at St Michael's, all that I knew, although being a member of the
Church, I made no mention of my association with the cult. He knew the
truth."
"Then tell me who was the murderer?" I cried.
"I believed the murderer to be my lover, Clifton Cleeve," she answered.
"But here, in this place, I overheard a confession, and discovered that
the man who committed the cowardly crime in order to conceal the
existence of this cult of Evil is the same who, having ascertained that
I was witness of his crime and might denounce him, afterwards sought to
silence me also," she answered; and pointing to the man who personified
Satan, added, "It is that man--Francis Vidit--the man under whose iron
thraldom both Aline and myself have been compelled to commit the
profanity that has terrified us; the man whose heart is as black with
wickedness as that of the Evil One he now represents. He is the
murderer of Roddy Morgan!"
The villainous-looking fellow made a dash forward with a second knife in
his hand, but in an instant both Jack's revolver and my own were at his
head and he fell behind, flinching.
"Hold back!" I cried. "Drop that knife this instant, or by Heaven!
I'll put a bullet through you!"
At that moment, while he stood glaring at me, Muriel placed something to
her mouth and blew shrilly. It was a police whistle.
In a second the door was burst open, and an inspector in uniform, a
detective and several constables, sprang into the room, creating a
confusion utterly indescribable. Their entry was so sudden that
everybody stood dumbfounded.
In the detective I recognised Priestly, the man who had had in hand the
inquiries regarding Roddy's death, and in a moment saw how cleverly
Muriel had arranged the details of her revenge.
"Arrest that man!" she cried, pointing to the cringing ruffian before
us. "That man, Francis Vidit, I declare to be the murderer of Mr
Morgan!"
Two constables stepped forward quickly, but the man whose Satanic garb
was so hideous, uttered a terrible curse, and with his face livid,
turned quickly and attacked the men with the knife in his hand. In his
desperation he was powerful as a lion, but in a few moments the
inspector and the others had overpowered him, and he stood before us
held helpless within their grasp.
It was no doubt a smart capture, and the police owed it to Muriel's
calmness and careful arrangements.
"Let my hand go!" the wretched man cried. "I want to get my
handkerchief to wipe my face. Don't hold me so tight; I shan't hurt
you," he laughed with a hoarse, hideous laugh, which sounded through the
place.
Then, with a sudden twist, he freed his hand, and ere they could stop
him he had placed something in his mouth and swallowed it.
"You can do what you like with me now, you fools!" he shrieked wildly.
"I have no fear of you!"
"Look!" cried Muriel. "See his face! He has poisoned himself!"
All gazed at him, and we saw by the spasmodic working of the muscles of
his features that what she said was quite true. The agonies of
poisoning had already seized him, and his haggard face, fast swelling,
was horrible to behold. For a few moments he writhed in the grasp of
the officers, while we all looked on in silence, appalled at the
frightful picture he presented; until suddenly, with a piercing shriek,
he seemed to stretch out his limbs rigid and straight. Then all the
light of a sudden died from his hideously distorted features, and the
men in whose grip he was knew by the dead weight upon them that they
held only a corpse.
No further need is there to dwell upon the ghastly events of that
fateful night, a night that will live within my memory for ever; nor
need I describe how we all four left that den of Satan in company with
the police. Suffice it to say that the self-destruction of Francis
Vidit caused the disbandment of that disgraceful Pagan sect which
fortunately found so little support in Christian England. Although the
police were, by these revelations of Muriel's, made aware of the
existence of Satanism in London, the suicide of their head made it
unnecessary for any details of the _cultus diabolicus_ to be given to
the public through the medium of the sensational Press.
At first the revulsion of feeling within me caused me, I confess, to
hesitate whether to take as wife a woman who had actually been a votary
of Satan, but on calmer reflection, as I drove back to Charing Cross
Mansions with my loved one at my side, I saw plainly how she had been
victimised and held powerless beneath the terrible thraldom of this
murderer Vidit and his accomplice Hibbert, who had without doubt both
carried on these practices with a view to gain the subscriptions of
those who joined the cult. That she was pure, honest, and upright I had
never doubted, and moved to sympathy when I remembered how bitterly she
had suffered, I yielded to her entreaty to be forgiven, feeling
convinced of her assertion that her suspicion that I was guilty of the
murder of my friend was the cause of her casting me aside and acting as
she did.
Just a year has now gone by, and it has been full of changes, for my
father dying suddenly, Tixover Hall has come to me, and with Muriel as
my wife we live in the old place in perfect contentment and happiness.
Jack Yelverton, too, has modified his views regarding the marriage of
the clergy, for Aline is now his wife, and in the good work among the
poor of the dismal, overcrowded parish of St Peter's, which he pursues
with such untiring energy, she, once the priestess of Satan, is now his
greatest helpmate. She is trying to make atonement for the flagrant
sins she committed before God, and certainly if the ministration of His
Word and righteousness of heart will atone for the profanity to which
she once was forced because of her love for the man who is now her
husband, then a great and blessed forgiveness will be hers.
The means by which poor Roddy's life was taken have remained an entire
mystery until the other day, when Muriel explained how the man Vidit,
being an expert toxicologist, once made certain experiments in that old
house on Herne Hill, and from these it seemed clear that the poison--
apparently one of those extremely deadly ones known to the mediaeval
alchemists, a single drop of which is fatal--was flung suddenly into the
eye of his victim while he spoke with him, causing instant blindness,
general paralysis, and a swift, agonising death. It was the consequent
discoloration of the eyes which had so puzzled the doctors.
We, however, in our blissful new-found joy seldom refer to those dark
days when the shadow of evil was upon us. Happily they have passed, and
are over, for Muriel has broken for ever that most terrible tie which
held her aloof from God and man--the Bond of Black.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.