`Several time's recently I have picked up your thoughts about leaving here.'
`Yes,' Gregory agreed. `I can already manage to dress without help in the clothes you procured for me to take my walks along the roof, and in about a week I shall be fully fit to travel on my own. I shall, of course, go by the route that Frau Bjornsen took; from Grimmen along the coast to Sassnitz, then cross by the ferry boat to Trelleborg. When I reach Stockholm I may have to wait about a bit until I can get back to England by one of the Mosquitoes they send over with despatches for the British Embassy, but I expect one comes in about once a week. The only tricky part will be getting from here to Grimmen. But I take it you could hypnotize Willi again, so that he can run me in by the lorry and have no memory afterwards of having made the trip.'
Malacou shook his head. `I fear that what you propose is out of the question:
`Why?' asked Gregory quickly. `Has anything happened to Willi?'
`No. It is simply that I have no intention of allowing you to leave here.'
`What the devil do you mean?'
`What I say. I have already told you more than once of my conviction that our fates are linked. Some months hence I shall enter a period of great danger. In fact, the stars foretell my death, unless it can be averted by a person whose horoscope is very similar to yours. The horoscopes of individuals vary even more than do their fingerprints, so the chances of anyone else capable of saving me being at hand when this crisis-arises are extremely remote. If I allow you to return to England I cannot see you risking your life by coming back to this part of Germany as long as the war continues. Therefore, my own life depends on my keeping you here.'
`In that you're wrong,' Gregory snapped angrily. `Even if you can succeed in detaining me as a prisoner-and that I doubt once I've got back the full use of my leg when you are faced with death I swear I'll not lift a finger to save you.'
`Oh yes you will. The circumstances in which I shall be in dire peril are still hidden from me. But when the time comes you will be just as much a plaything of fate as myself. Your stars will compel you to act in my defence.'
`Damn you!' Gregory shouted. `I'll force you to let me go. Now that I'm stronger I'll no longer allow you to dictate to me. Good always triumphs over evil. I'll break that evil will of yours. Come on! I challenge you.'
As he spoke he looked straight into Malacou's eyes. The doctor closed his for a moment, then opened them again and returned Gregory's stare. For what seemed an endless time to Gregory he strove with all his mind to overcome that of his adversary, but the dark, hooded eyes into which he was gazing remained unwinking and gradually seemed to grow larger. At length he could see nothing else and felt his concentration weakening. He knew then that he was beaten and, with a cry of despair, lowered himself with bowed head on to the side of his bed.
Sentenced again to spend further months as a prisoner, the bitterness of his thoughts on Christmas Day were exceeded only by those on the afternoon that Malacou had forced him to part with Erika. Now that he was nearly fit to travel the frustration he felt at being held against his will was overwhelming, and it kept him awake for the best part of the night. But next morning his thoughts were- temporarily distracted from his miserable situation by a new event.
Malacou burst in upon him, his eyes bright with excitement and so agitated with delight that he could hardly speak. As Gregory stared at him, he gasped out, `Praise be to Iblis! He has hearkened to his servant. Hauff is dead!'
`Dead!' Gregory exclaimed. `Is he really?' For he had never seriously credited the Satanist's belief that his abominable ceremony would have the desired end. `What happened? How did he die?'
`He was in that powerful car of his. He always drove it like a maniac, without a thought that he might kill someone. And now he's killed himself. I'm told he went in to a Weihnachtsfest party in Greifswald yesterday and I've no doubt he got drunk. When he was driving home in the early hours this morning he crashed into a farm wagon. His car was smashed to pieces and he died from his injuries shortly afterwards.'
`Well, that's that.' Gregory relaxed on his bed. `You've got your wish, but as there's a living God you'll have to pay for it when the time comes to settle all accounts.'
`Maybe, maybe,' the Satanist muttered, his expression suddenly changing to one of fear. `But Khurrem is mine Khurrem is mine! No one can now take her from me.'
`I wouldn't be too certain of that,' Gregory remarked cynically. `She'd be very attractive if she cleaned herself up and, remember, she is an heiress. Some other chap may get the idea that he'd like to take her on and become the master of Sassen.'
Malacou shook his head. `No, no. If that were likely I'd have read it in the stars. She must now go through a black patch; a very black patch. But no other man is coming into her life.'
Snow fell next day and for some days afterwards Gregory had to give up his exercise on the roof from fear of slipping as, even when Tarik had swept a path along the walkway for him, temporary thaws brought down little avalanches which continued to make it dangerous. But every day he now spent several hours exercising in his room with most satisfactory -results. Meanwhile he cudgelled his brain for a way to outwit Malacou, but, resourceful though he was, he could think of no safe way of getting into Grimmen unless he could persuade the Satanist to hypnotize Willi.
Another week had dragged by when, on the afternoon of New Year's Eve, much to his surprise, Khurrem paid him a visit. Understandably, she had not done so since Erika had; seen her lying naked on the altar of the chapel in flagrante delicto with her father and, as she came in, Gregory wondered how she had managed to overcome her embarrassment at Facing him again.
Looking at her, he recalled her father's having said that she was due to go through a-very bad period, for her condition had greatly deteriorated since he had last seen her. The fine grey eyes that at times lit up her face were dull and had big black shadows beneath them. Her red hair had obviously not been properly done for several days, her long face looked thinner than ever and her cheeks were furrowed.
Gregory's first thought was that he might possibly be able to make use of her in some plan to escape but, even if she could be persuaded to drive him into Grimmen, as Malacou had the power to read both her thoughts and his, it seemed certain that the Satanist would gain knowledge of their intentions and take steps to frustrate them.
As he reluctantly dismissed the idea, she produced a letter and said, `Mr. Sallust, you are an upright man and the only person here whom I can trust. I know that you must think very badly of me, but if you knew the story of my life I think you might pity rather than despise me. At least I feel sure you will not refuse to do me a small service. I want you to keep this letter until tomorrow morning; then open and read it, and afterwards give it to my father.'
`Certainly I'll do that,' he replied, taking the letter. `I'm afraid you have been going through a very bad time. If there is any other way in which I can help you, please tell me. It is not for any of us to sit in judgement on others, so whatever you care to say to me you need have no fear that I'll make any comment that will hurt you.'
`No,' she said sadly. `If I had married Herman Hauff things might have turned out better for me, but there is nothing anyone can do to help me now. You'll promise, though, not to open my letter until tomorrow morning, won't you?