“No, no, I must tell you the whole story now,” Tony said with breathless eagerness. “Well, eventually I came to be initiated. You must remember that all this time Gaunt had offered me no other form of worship in place of that which he had shown to be false. I must admit I felt the need of something more than mere knowledge, however wonderful, and at the ceremony it was revealed to me. I can’t possibly describe it — words are quite useless — and in any case I am under oath not to, but it suddenly dawned upon me what it was all about, that Satan was the one true Lord, to whom I was bound for ever.
“I gladly accepted my new bondage, and until Valerie and John came to Kestrel I believed that all my troubles were over, and that I had reached harbour at last.
“Then there came that awful business when Gaunt tried to destroy Valerie by means of the curse. I must frankly admit that she had upset my altered ideas of life; they no longer seemed all in all; but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that the wanton sacrifice of her life was in accordance with the high principles that Gaunt had laid down. I told him as much, and he assured me that he had acted for my good and that she was not all I had thought her.”
“He lied,” interrupted the priest angrily; “she is all that is good and pure. I know that.”
“Yes,” Tony agreed sadly, “I know it too now. As soon as I saw her face again this afternoon I knew the wrong I had done her in believing Gaunt. But such was his power over me that he convinced me at the time, particularly since he gave me what I thought was visible proof of her unworthiness.”
“What do you mean?” asked the priest sharply.
“I saw a vision in the crystal — oh, it’s too beastly to describe — it must have been a trick; but I thought I knew them all.”
Tony lay silent, brooding on his unhappy memories. Overcoming the wrath which had surged up in him at the slur on his niece, the rector inquired if there were any more to tell.
Wondering what on earth was making him confide all the secrets of his troubled soul to this man whom he scarcely knew, Tony went on:
“I was very angry with Valerie and John for the wrong which I imagined they had done me, and Gaunt persuaded me to assist at a Black Mass offered for their destruction.”
The rector started violently, and only by a tremendous effort of will succeeded in remaining silent. He knew what the Black Mass entailed, and his soul sickened at the knowledge of the enormity which this wretched boy had been dragged into. His rage against the two who had been ultimately responsible made the blood thunder in his ears to such an extent that he had difficulty in hearing Tony’s words.
“I think I was deceived again,” the young man continued, “because all that happened was that the curse-monstrosity was whipped into frightful fury, and in the pandemonium Gaunt made me relinquish whatever control I had over it to him.
“After that I suppose they had no further use for me. I refused to help when Gaunt told me of his further plans, and they cast me out. I have been deceived all along the line. One thing Gaunt said when I expostulated with him has shown me that much of his teaching about his own creed must have been quite untrue. He had always denied the existence of your God, but when I protested against the ruining of this lovely world he said, ‘This world was created by the Power which we defy, and must perish at the last.’ ”
A long silence fell while the priest racked his brains for the best way in which to approach this problem. At last he said:
“Well, Tony, there is only one thing left for you to do. Deny them as they have denied you; as they have cast you out, so cast their abominable bondage from your soul, and come back to us.”
Tony turned his sad eyes to the priest. He shook his head.
“I do not think I shall ever believe anything any more,” said he. “I cannot tell which is true and which is false. It’s all so hopeless. I shall go back and make one last attempt to undo the harm I’ve done, and then I hope I die. At least I shan’t be able to do any more harm then.”
“Nonsense!” said the rector sharply. “You have been sadly deceived, but that is all the more reason for coming back to the old faith. After all, it is the one stable thing in this unhappy world.”
“What can you offer me?”
“Nothing. They offered you the world and the glory of it in exchange for your own soul, and it turned to dust and ashes in your mouth. I offer you only perpetual bondage in the sweet yoke of Christ. He will give you the glory of His service, the burning reality of His great love, and the peace which passeth all understanding. Moreover, He will give you your own soul back again.”
“It all sounds so vague, so full of aspiration, but achieving so little.”
“So says the world. But we are not of the world. The martyrs found the faith strong enough to support them in the flame — they knew it was no illusory promise, lacking fulfillment.”
“They gave me power and strength.”
“He gives you service and weakness, the contradiction of all they teach; truth and beauty, pity and kindliness; all the lovely things which they reject. We rely not on our own poor mortal strength, but upon the infinite power of the Most High God, who was Himself content to suffer at our ignorant hands.”
“There was a certain sombre glory in their worship,” Tony ventured.
“The sombre glory of damnation,” the priest countered instantly. “Our worship is glorious enough with its ancient ritual, which they pervert to blasphemy, but more glorious than this is the inner knowledge of a soul at one with the Creator of all things.”
“I wish I could believe as you do, sir,” said Tony in a voice tremulous with self-pity, “but I just can’t, that’s all.”
“That is not to be wondered at, my son. You have never been instructed in the mysteries of our great faith, and you are still soiled by contact with their abominations. Will you put yourself unreservedly in my hands? I can promise you new life, new hope, and everlasting salvation.”
“Gaunt said just the same. But I’ll give it a trial — afterwards. First I must get back to Kestrel.”
While they had been talking the room had been growing steadily darker, and even as Tony spoke a distant mutter of thunder stirred the air. The rector went over to the window and looked out.
The sky was heavily overcast and the wind was rising. Already the sea was showing its teeth in the white crests of the waves.
“Not today, I’m afraid, my boy,” said he; “there’s another storm brewing.”
Tony struggled into a sitting position, one hand to his bandaged head. Panic stared from his eyes.
“A storm?” he gasped. “It’s his doing. I might have known. I shall never get back, and the world is doomed!”
“Nonsense!” snapped the rector. “No man can control God’s sea.”
“You don’t know Gaunt,” Tony groaned, falling back on his pillow. “Sometimes I wonder if he is a man at all, or a fiend in human form.”
“Don’t imagine such vain things. This will be over well before the twenty-fifth; there’s plenty of time. At the moment your own soul is of far greater importance. Lie still and rest, and think over what I have told you.”
He went out, leaving Tony alone. For a long time the young man lay there listening to the sound of the rising storm, which mirrored so truly the battle raging in his own heart.
Chapter XVIII
Dr. Pellew gave Tony permission to get up next morning, and after breakfast he sat by the fire in the rector’s study, a prey to the most gloomy imaginings.
The first violence of the storm had passed with the night, but, though the rain had ceased and the thunder was silent, the wind still roared tempestuously round the house, and the booming of the surf penetrated to every room.