Presently his eyes opened and he stared up wonderingly at her.
“Valerie?” he whispered doubtfully.
She smiled reassuringly.
“Yes, Tony. Don’t worry. You are in my uncle’s house. John brought you yesterday.”
He lay quiet for a moment, taking it in. Then his hand crept up to his head and he felt the bandages, wincing as he touched the damaged place.
“What happened?” he asked wearily.
“You refused to come away with him, you know, and he thought it best to bring you, whether you wanted to or not. I’m afraid he hit you rather hard, but he didn’t mean to hurt you. There’s no serious harm done.”
All at once Tony’s blue eyes widened, and he sat up, only to fall back with a groan of pain.
“What’s the date?” he demanded surprisingly.
She thought for a moment, then:
“The twenty-first, I think,” she said. “Why?”
“Four days to go — only four days — less! I must get back. Can I see John?”
“I think he’s asleep now. Is it so very important?”
“It’s vital. Please fetch him at once.”
The urgency in his weak voice silenced the girl’s questions, and she went into the adjoining room and woke Hamilton, who presently appeared, clad in a dressing-gown, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m glad to see you’re better, old boy,” said he. “Sorry I had to lay you out, but you were so darned obstinate there was nothing else for it.”
Tony smiled wryly and held out his hand. His friend took it silently, and he said:
“I wish you hadn’t, John, all the same, because now I must get back as quickly as possible.”
Hamilton sighed.
“Do we have to go over all this again, Tony?” he asked.
“No, you don’t understand. When you came butting in like a great bull yesterday Gaunt had just cast me off, after I had refused to help in what he proposed to do.”
“What, you’re through with him?”
“I can never be through with him altogether — I am bound by oath — but I refused to go on with this particular job.”
“And this is…?”
Tony replied with a quiet emphasis more convincing than any rhetoric:
“The releasing of the curse-monstrosity upon its anniversary date, the twenty-fifth of this month.”
Hamilton considered.
“That’s four days from today. But why the excitement? I thought that was your intention all along.”
“I was deceived in this as in many things. I believed we were to send the curse back whence it came out of this world for good. But Gaunt means to release it into the world.”
Hamilton stared.
“What will that mean?” he asked.
“The ruin of the human race,” said Tony quietly.
“Good God!” Hamilton was on his feet. Then he sat down again, saying:
“How do I know this is true? You may be just pulling my leg in order to get back.”
“No, John, I swear it’s deadly serious. That thing is an evil entity of frightful power. Once it gets loose there’s no telling what may happen.”
Hamilton got up again slowly.
“You sound serious enough, Tony, but Heaven help you if there’s a catch in this. I’ll fetch the rector, and see what he has to say.”
“That priest? What good will he do?”
“He knows more about these matters than I do, Tony; and, I suspect, more than you do yourself.”
Tony laughed bitterly.
“I doubt it,” said he, “but bring him along if you must. Perhaps I can make him realize how serious this all is.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Hamilton went out. Tony lay staring up at the ceiling with burning eyes. Could he convince these people of the dreadful urgency of the matter? And even if he could and did manage to get back to the Abbey, could he stop Gaunt? Knowing the doctor’s power, he doubted it. He gnashed his teeth in an agony of impotence.
The rector came in alone.
“Feeling better, Sir Anthony?” he inquired. “John tells me you’ve something very important to tell me.”
Rapidly Tony repeated what he had told Hamilton. When he had finished the rector got up and paced the floor several times, beating his brow with his clenched fist.
“Why didn’t I think of this?” he exclaimed. “Fool that I am! I knew that it wasn’t you yourself they wanted, but I never dreamed… Can you stop them if you go back?”
“I don’t know,” Tony groaned. “I can try. By myself I could do nothing; I have no power over that thing now, but there is just one chance. I have an idea that Vaughan is no happier over the whole business than I am; the two of us might perhaps be able to stand against Gaunt.”
“I shouldn’t count on Simon Vaughan,” said the rector; “he was ever a weak vessel. I knew him of old. But something must be done; that is evident. As soon as you are a little stronger I will go back with you; but that will not be today. You must rest now; perhaps tomorrow the doctor will let you get up.”
“But time is getting so short,” Tony persisted. “There are only four days to go.”
“Does it matter so very much how long before the actual date you get back?” asked the rector. “Surely another day will not make much difference.”
“I’m not so sure,” Tony answered. “You see, sir, every hour the curse grows stronger, until it reaches its maximum at noon on the twenty-fifth. The sooner I attempt to interfere, the better.”
“I see. Tell me, Sir Anthony, why are you so anxious to prevent this occurrence? You are one of them, are you not?”
“I don’t know what I am.” Tony’s voice was weary and hopeless. “I believed I was, but now that I cannot face the consummation of their faith they will have no more to do with me.” He turned his face away, but not before the rector had seen the tears in his eyes.
A deep pity stirred in the heart of the old priest.
“Give this soul to me, dear Lord,” he prayed silently, “that I may bring him back to Thee.”
He sat down beside the bed, and said gently:
“Tell me how it all began.”
The need for sympathy was so strong in Tony that he poured out his pitiful tale at once.
“My life was empty, meaningless,” he said; “I realized that when my father died. And the awful responsibility of Kestrel was more than I could bear alone. I turned to Nicholas Gaunt, and he offered me knowledge and power whereby I could rid the world of that horrid thing for ever. More than that, he offered me a new philosophy which would show me the meaning of everything, and give me something definite to live for. I believed him. He taught me. I have learnt many strange and wonderful things from him, things that I could never have found by any other means — good things, noble things, spiritual truths, things that even now I can find no fault with. But all the while he was subtly at work, altering my sense of proportion, lowering my moral standards. I can see it all now, but at the time I was blinded by the light of new knowledge.
“He showed me his faith in its most attractive aspect, suppressing all that was unpleasant. I came to believe that humanity was on the wrong track; that the God you worship was false, non-existent, merely called into a sort of phantasmal being by centuries of misguided worship; and that Christ was an insane egotist, blinded by his own conceit, who had somehow managed to foist a ridiculous creed on to his followers. A creed which, with its insistence upon humility and gentleness, had been the ruin of civilization, suppressing the god-like pride which is the birthright of man, and reducing him to the level of a slave, meekly accepting tyranny and oppression. You know that poem of Swinburne’s: ‘Before a Crucifix’?”
“Yes, I know it,” the priest replied, quoting: “ ‘Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean, And the world has grown grey in thy breath.’ Very specious, but quite untrue. Please go on, if it isn’t tiring you too much.”