“He would not heed me; he did go down into that crypt, and what he found I don’t know, for I never saw him again. Even after he had recovered from his illness, through the ministrations of your Dr. Gaunt, he never came to see me, or to church even. And I am not one to thrust myself in where I am not wanted.
“So you see why I am appalled at the thought of your friend going the self-same way his father went. He seems a nice young fellow — I don’t suppose he is more than a nominal Christian, so few are these days, and he has not even that to support him. He and those friends of his are meddling with matters that should not be meddled with. I am desperately afraid for him.”
Hamilton sat silent for some minutes after the other had finished speaking. Darkness had fallen, and the first stars were beginning to sprinkle the deep blue overhead. The island was only a dark blot on the grey sea.
“Thank you for telling me all this, sir,” he said at last. “I must go to him, and see what I can do.”
“God go with you, my son,” the rector replied, getting to his feet a trifle stiffly, “and if an old man’s vapourings prove groundless, forgive me.”
Together they walked back down the steep path. The rectory stood close by the church, and at the gate the rector stopped.
“Are you a Catholic, Mr. Hamilton?” he asked.
“I was brought up in the Church of England,” the other had started to reply, but the old man broke in:
“No, no! I was not referring to our Roman brethren. I mean — do you use the Sacraments of the Church in which you were baptized? Don’t think me impertinent, but as one of the least of her priests I have a right to know.”
“I’m afraid I have not been very regular for some years. Things slide, you know, sir.”
“Yes, I know. But if you are going to that island, I would advise you to consider these things. They are rather important. And if you want any help or advice, come to me.”
“I will, sir, thank you. Good night.”
“Good night, my son. God bless you.”
They shook hands, and Hamilton strode off towards the village. The rector stood watching him for a moment, then he crossed himself, murmuring:
“Sweet Jesus, most strong, most holy! Guard Thy servant, who goes into the midst of so many and great dangers!”
He opened the gate and went into his own house.
While he was having a nightcap Hamilton told the landlord that he had met the rector:
“Ah, old Father Bennett!” exclaimed Dykes. “ ’E’s a good sort. Bit ’Igh, per’aps — incense and the likes o’ that, if you know what I mean, sir — but we likes ’im, we does. ’E means no ’arm. The fisherfolk love ’im like a father. Blesses their boats for ’em. ’E comes in ’ere for a glass now and then, with the best of ’em. Could do with more parsons like that, sir.”
Hamilton heartily agreed with this conclusion, and presently went to bed, with much to think upon.
He was awakened early next morning by the crying of the gulls over the harbour, as the boats came in, laden with the fruits of the night’s toil. After breakfast he began to explore the possibilities of getting to the Abbey. He particularly wished to avoid attracting attention by chartering a boat to take him across, and was considerably relieved to learn that Tom Tregellis invariably called at the inn when he came over for provisions.
He was sitting in the bar when that worthy entered, and, hearing the landlord call him by name, approached and offered him a drink. The dour Cornishman accepted without surprise, and they sat down at a little table in the corner, their tankards before them. Hamilton explained that he was a friend of Sir Anthony’s, and wanted to pay him a surprise visit, and after the tankards had been refilled several times Tregellis departed, telling him to be at the harbour in half an hour’s time.
There they met, Hamilton carrying his suitcase and Tregellis a basket of assorted groceries. They climbed down into the trim launch, and inside half an hour were climbing the worn stairway leading up to the Abbey.
The wicket in the outer gate stood open, and they passed through, Hamilton staring about him in amazement at the broad flagged courtyard, and the square bulk of the building rearing its turrets into the blue. He had not been on the island before, and was intensely interested by everything he saw.
Lorrimer, who must have been watching for the launch, appeared at the door, and stood waiting, looking rather doubtfully at Hamilton and his luggage. It was evident that uninvited guests were not a common feature of life on Kestrel. Tregellis, without a word of explanation, left his companion to his own devices and departed with his basket towards the rear quarters. Hamilton addressed Lorrimer:
“I don’t think Sir Anthony is expecting me, but I am an old friend — my name’s Hamilton.”
The servant’s face crinkled into a smile.
“Oh, yes, of course, sir. I’ve often heard Sir Anthony speak of you. He told me some months ago that he had invited you down. Will you step inside, sir? I will tell Sir Anthony you are here.”
Hamilton suffered himself to be led into the great hall and relieved of his hat and bag. Lorrimer asked him to be seated and retired towards the library.
Left to himself, the visitor stood with his back to the cavernous hearth, empty for once, since the great heat had penetrated even these ponderous walls. He looked round curiously, the least bit overawed by the mediaeval grandeur of the place, gloomy in spite of the narrow beams of sunlight which crept in through the high windows.
He had not long to wait, however, for scarcely had Lorrimer disappeared when Tony came bursting in, almost running across the stone floor to greet his friend.
“John, by all that’s holy! I am glad to see you, old man!” he cried, wringing his hand. “Do sit down. Why ever didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“I came quite by chance, Tony. I just happened to be taking a little holiday in the neighbourhood, and thought I’d pop over and look you up.”
“Well, now you’re here at last, you must stay for a while.”
“Thanks, I’d love to.” Hamilton was studying his friend narrowly. This was a different Tony, in spite of the familiar exuberance of his greeting — and even that was false. He was not glad to see him, and didn’t really want him to stay. There was a look of strain about his face, and a strange depth in the blue eyes, once so gay and careless, that sent a chill to Hamilton’s heart. His mouth, too, once the weakest point of the whole face, was now set in unnaturally firm lines.
“Didn’t you get my last letter, Tony?” he asked carelessly, taking out his pipe as Tony lit a cigarette.
“Yes, of course; thanks, old man — I answered it, surely?” Tony was intent upon his cigarette.
“You didn’t. I was a little worried.”
“What a careless beast I am, John! I know I wrote a reply. It’s probably still in a pocket somewhere. I am sorry!”
“It’s all right, Tony. I thought you might be ill, that’s all.”
“I was never better in my life. This place suits me absolutely. You were perfectly right about it, John, it’s marvelous. I can’t think why I never thought so before.”
“Is Dr. Gaunt still here?”
“Why, yes, he’s in the library now. You must come and meet him again. He’s a charming fellow. There’s a pal of his here too — chap called Vaughan — sort of spiritualist johnny. He thinks he can fix up the jolly old curse — more power to him! Now come along and see Gaunt.”