At that moment Abaddon appeared in the doorway. Quickly Mary lay back and covered herself again up to the chin. Holding the door open for Honorius, he said quietly, 'You may leave us now,' and, when she had walked past him, he closed it behind her.
Her statement had done little to reassure Mary. With his bald head, smiling eyes, smooth cheeks, and dressed in his neat dark grey suit, the High Priest still looked like a benevolent Bishop yet, less than half an hour before, he had calmly admitted to her that he was a strangler. And he was the Master in this den of murderers. His word was law there and Honorius, like the rest of them, was sworn to obey him. He might have told her to still his intended victim's fears and keep her in bed till his return, so that she would be less able to defend herself. Now that she had served her purpose, even if she screamed Honorius might not come to her rescue again, but leave her at the mercy of this elderly maniac.
Mary's heart was beating like a sledge hammer. Perspiration again broke out on her forehead. Her throat had suddenly gone dry and her tongue felt like thick leather in her mouth. As Abaddon moved away from the door, her eyes fixed themselves on his beautiful hands. In another few moments those strong, slender fingers might be choking the life out of her body. Half sitting up, she thrust out an arm as if to fend him off, and gasped:
'Stay where you are! Stay where you are! Don't... don't come any nearer!'
His smile became sad, and he said: 'My child, I understand how you must be feeling. Naturally you are afraid that I may give way to another of my little lapses; but you have no need to be.'
As he continued to approach the bed, she did not believe him. Cowering back among the pillows, she repeated hoarsely: 'Don't come any nearer! I'll claw your eyes out if you touch me!'
He halted then and shook his head. 'Calm yourself, I beg. My having so unfortunately, er . . . forgotten myself, must have been a great shock to you. After having your nerve so badly shaken it does you all the more credit that you should have passed your test with flying colours. I come only to tell you of the special favour I intend to grant you as a reward for going through with the task set you in spite of what had gone before.'
She continued to regard him with nervous doubt, but his eyes showed no sign of abnormality. With an effort, she stopped the trembling of her hands, and asked in a low voice, 'What is it?'
'That's better,' he nodded. 'Lie back, my child, and relax. I give you my word that I will not lay a finger on you.'
Uneasily, she wriggled down a little, and again covered herself up to the shoulders, as he asked, 'Have you yet decided on your Satanic name? Is it to be Circe, or some other?'
She was about to reply that to her it was a matter of complete indifference, but remembered in time that to him she was a neophyte who, having successfully passed her test, should now be looking forward eagerly to her initiation as a Sister of the Ram. His question suggested that the favour he meant to do her was in connection with it - perhaps the fixing of an early date - and that he was about to tell her of certain things she must do to prepare herself for the ceremony. She was still in their power and, if she was to get out of it in the next half-hour, she must continue to avoid arousing their suspicions by showing delight at her prospect of becoming one of them. Seeking now to please him, she said in a steadier voice:
'I like the name, but you are the Master here. If there is one you prefer for me I will willingly take it.'
He beamed at her. 'I like it too; so Circe let it be. Now, tell me: what do you know of our Satanic festivals?�
'Mr. Ratnadatta told me that your weekly meetings on Saturdays are called Esbats, and that four times a year you hold a Sabat - a great feast at which you sacrifice a ram.'
'That is so; and it is through the blood of the ram that we receive our first degree of power. The central act in an initiation ceremony is the baptism of the neophyte with it. Only so can one become a member of the Brotherhood.'
'I see,' she said, pretending keen interest. 'And as there are only four Sabats a year, that is why a neophyte sometimes has to wait quite a long time before receiving initiation. Mr. Ratnadatta warned me that I should have to be patient.'
'Yes, usually we arrange matters so that three weeks or a month elapse between each stage. You were fortunate that an occasion happened to arise for us to give you your test after only a fortnight.'
Mary was now feeling enough at ease with him again to play her part convincingly. With just a suggestion of peevishness, she murmured, 'And now I suppose it will be the other way. I'll have to wait weeks and weeks before I can enjoy the power that initiation will give me.'
'No, my child.' His smile was seraphic. 'As resident Master of this Lodge, I have authority to ignore normal procedure when I wish, and I intend to treat your case as an exception. That is the way in which I propose to make amends for giving you such a fright.'
'Do you mean that there is a Sabat quite soon, and that you'll let me come to it? If so, that's very kind.'
He looked at her in surprise. 'Do you not know what today is?�
Puzzled, she thought a moment, then replied, 'Yes, it's the 30th April.'
'And Walpurgis Night,' he added quickly, 'the greatest Satanic feast in the whole year.'
Starting up, she stared at him. 'You don't mean ...'
'I mean that, normally, your initiation would not take place until the end of July. But I am granting you a dispensation which will spare you that long wait and enable you to be received as an initiate tonight.'
'Tonight!' she gasped, her face a picture of dismay.
'Yes. You will be one of five who are to be initiated; two other women and two men. But what has come over you?' he frowned. 'Instead of being delighted, you appear distressed.'
She knew herself to be walking a razor's edge. Desperately she strove to compose her features. Then she faltered: 'It's only . . . only that I've had no chance to prepare myself for it. And I'm tired. Tired out by what I've been through this evening already.'
'You feel so now, perhaps. But it will pass. You have the best part of an hour in which to rest. By then, and after another glass of our Delphic wine, you will feel quite restored and be eager to take your place among us.'
'No! No!' she cried, panic getting the better of her. 'I couldn't face it tonight. Even if I have to wait three months, I'd rather. Let me go home! Let me go home!'
'Now you are being foolish,' he admonished her. 'Of course you are tired and a little overwrought. But tomorrow you would bitterly regret having allowed a temporary weakness to deprive you of this chance to achieve your desires without further delay.'
'I've not the strength to go through with this tonight. I really haven't. I swear I haven't. I'll bungle everything and disgrace you.'
'I am confident that you will not. You took your oaths and made your profession of faith when you were accepted as a neophyte. No further demands of that kind will be made upon you. The ceremony consists only of a little blood being drawn from your arm so that you may sign a pact in it with our Lord Satan, then your baptism with the blood of the sacrificed ram and the tying of the black garter below your knee.'
'But . . .' she stammered '. . . but Ratnadatta told me ... he said I'd have to serve the Temple.'
'Oh, that!' Abaddon shrugged. 'Yes, you will do so later. But you are not a virgin, so you will both give and receive pleasure by the act. After we have feasted and the dancing begins, you will be filled with desire and eager to make love.'
'Not tonight! Not tonight!' she pleaded. 'I don't feel like feasting and dancing. I'm too tired, I tell you. I want to go home! Please let me go home!'