The Satanist (12 page)

Mary could now smell again the sweetish bad-lobster odour of his breath, but she showed no sign of the queasy feeling it gave her, and she replied firmly, ‘It certainly is.’

‘Question two. Do you agree to giff your whole will to developing your mind to a state in weech power can be entrusted to you?’

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘To be given occult power is my dearest wish.’

‘Question three. To achieve that are you willing to surrender
yourself absolutely to Our Lord Satan for the furtherance off His work–the bringing off happiness to those who follow Him?’

Again she said, ‘Yes.’

‘Good, very good,’ he purred, much to her relief sitting back and sparing her further distress from the ill-conditioned interior of his fat little paunch. ‘I haf instinct about you. I was right. And now I give you pleasant surprise. Tonight ees Saturday. It ees on Saturdays that my Lodge holds its meetings. You will not be made initiate tonight. No; not yet. Not till you haf seen for yourself something off the ancient mysteries. After, perhaps you feel fear to go on. Then ees still time to withdraw. Such decision show only that, after all, you are not yet ready to accept full truth. No harm done. But if after you again affirm will to proceed at a future meeting I introduce you as neophyte.’

Suddenly he again sat forward, and the hard little brown eyes behind the pebble glasses bored into hers. ‘One thing more. You will mention never to anyone what you haf seen. Should you do that we will know off it. The ear off Our Lord Satan misses nothing. You would do better to commit suicide than live to face His retribution.’

‘I … yes. I quite understand,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It is very good of you indeed to give me this opportunity of … of advancing along the true Path. Whereabouts is the meeting behind held?’

He stood up. ‘Until you become initiate, that I must keep secret from you. But soon I am now hoping that you will be a Sister off the Ram. If so, you will haf had great good fortune that it ees my Lodge that you join. For this year it ees granted power greater than all others, because the Great Ram has come to us from distant land to act temporarily as our earthly Master.’

After the unspecified but terrible fate with which Ratnadatta had threatened her should she betray them, Mary had been seized with sudden panic. Already she had made up her mind that, even if she failed to secure any evidence that they were connected with Teddy’s death, but found that
they were actively engaged in evil practices, she would give chapter and verse about them to Colonel Verney. Yet the threat brought to her mind the powers they might possess. It seemed certain, at least, that among them would be clairvoyants of far greater abilities than the sort of semi-amateur she had seen crystal gazing the first time she had gone to a meeting at Mrs. Wardeel’s; and, perhaps, true mediums. If they were capable of overlooking her and traced her to Colonel Verney that might really place her in danger of her life.

The thought of the Colonel brought back to her the warning he had given her about the seriousness of the risk she would be running if she attempted to penetrate the secrets of a Black Magic circle; and Barney, too, had shown acute concern at the idea of her doing so. Although she had refused to recognise it before, she knew that they were right, and that it was madness for her to pit her wits against a whole group of clever, unscrupulous people who, she was now persuaded, could call on evil occult forces to aid them. Swiftly she began to seek an excuse by which she could back out while there was still time.

But with equal suddenness to the panic which had seized her, a memory now flashed into her mind. It was of one of Teddy’s worst nightmares. In all of them he had muttered and raved, mostly incoherently, about Satan and hell, and even such absurdities as being chased by a black imp, but sometimes he cried out short sentences aloud. Once, just before she had woken him, he had shouted, ‘The Ram! The Great Ram! Smoke is coming from him! He must be the Devil!’

At the time, she had hardly registered the words, taking them for just one more of Teddy’s nightmare fantasies. But now, following on what Ratnadatta had said only a few moments before, they came back to her. And they made sense. The Great Ram was a man; the Master of Ratnadatta’s Lodge. Here was the proof of what she had previously only suspected. Ratnadatta
was
the Indian Teddy had mentioned in his ravings and
had
taken him to the
place where she believed he had met his death.

Like a bugle call rallying the remnants of a decimated squadron of cavalry to charge again, the knowledge that she had really hit on the right track caused strength and determination to flow back into her. Now, whatever might happen to her she knew that she must go through with it.

Ten minutes later Mary was again in a taxi with the Indian. He had spoken to the driver in so low a voice that she had been unable to overhear it; so she knew only that they were going in a northerly direction. Then, when the taxi had carried them only a few hundred yards, he produced a clean white handkerchief from his pocket, folded it carefully on his fat knees, and turning to her said:

‘I haf told you that the place off meeting must be kept secret from you until you become initiate. Plees now, I put bandage over your eyes.’

Relieved, at least, that as he leaned towards her she had an excuse for turning her head away from him, she submitted, holding the handkerchief in place while he tied its ends behind over her brown dyed hair.

After the taxi had taken a few turnings she lost all sense of direction, and the drive seemed to her to last a long time; but, during it, she was saved from becoming a prey to nervous speculation by Ratnadatta’s carrying on what almost amounted to a monologue upon matters of such interest that it soon engaged her mind.

His theme was ancient religions and, although Mary’s knowledge of them was decidedly sketchy, she had read sufficiently to appreciate that the views he expressed threw a new, even if distorted, light on many things.

He explained to her that, just as the early Christians had been forced to go underground to avoid persecution by the government in Rome, so, when Christianity had later gained a hold on other governments, the followers of the Old religion had had to seek safety from the laws enacted against them by going underground. He said that the word ‘witchcraft’ had originally been ‘wisecraft’, derived from ‘craft-of-the-wise’, and that the belief that witches and wizards were necessarily evil people was a most mistaken one. Some had been charlatans, but a high percentage of them had been people who had passed through many incarnations, were initiates who understood the great truths, and so enjoyed occult power. And it was the recognition that they wielded such powers, and fear of them by the ignorant Christian priests, which had led to their persecution.

He then talked to her of the heavenly bodies, the influences they exerted on human beings, and how those influences could be made use of to further the interests of initiates who had learned the secret of timing their acts to coincide with cosmic rays most favourable to their success. By such means, he said, money could be acquired without; working for it, positions secured, and either fertility or sterility made certain. But, he added, such operations needed to be undertaken only by initiates who were temporarily isolated from the Brotherhood, as at the meetings of its Lodges each Master was invested with the power to give swift aid to followers of the Path in achieving all their reasonable desires – as she was about to see for herself that night.

He was describing to her certain rain-making and fertility rites, still practised with success by peoples remote from civilisation who had had handed down to them a little of the old wisdom, when the taxi at last drew up.

Quickly untying the handkerchief that blindfolded her, Ratnadatta got out. As he paid off the taxi she looked about her and saw that they were in a dark street, lined on both sides by mean houses. There was a little group of men in
caps talking together outside a public house on the corner, but otherwise few people in sight.

Taking her arm, Ratnadatta hurried her along in the other direction. They turned a corner into another mean street along one side of which there was a high blank wall. At its end the wall continued at a right angle as one side of a narrow lane. Entering it they walked on for about a hundred yards. Mary saw then that it was a cul-de-sac, with an end that broadened out into a small court in which, with their lights out, half-a-dozen cars were parked.

On the left side of the court the wall merged into a large square brick house. Its tall windows showed not a chink of light, but a single low-power electric bulb made a pool of dim yellow radiance from over the stone pediment of its porch. Five steps, two of them cracked, led up to the porch which was flanked by fluted pillars. Above the broad front door, from which the paint was peeling, Mary noticed a fine Adam fan-light. It reminded her of the many in the older streets of Dublin, and she realised that this mansion, now surrounded by slums, must date back to Georgian days.

Ratnadatta pressed a bell push several times, as if he was using it to send a morse code signal. The door was opened and, stepping in, they came face to face with a heavy curtain that screened the interior as though it was a black-out precaution to prevent light shining into the street at a time when an air-raid threatened.

An end of the curtain was lifted and they sidled through, emerging into a small pillared hall with a wrought-iron balustraded staircase leading up from its centre. After the decayed appearance of the outside of the house, its inside came as a striking contrast. The hall was brightly lit by a sparkling crystal chandelier that hung from the centre of its ceiling, the cornices were gilded, the furniture was the finest Chippendale and two Negro footmen in plain liveries bowed silently to Ratnadatta as he and Mary came in, then took their coats.

She wondered where the house was situated and, as the
taxi had set off from Chelsea towards the north, she thought it might be in Islington, or one of those districts no great distance from the City in which rich nobles had long ago had their town residences. In any case it seemed probable that some wealthy family had held on to it for several generations, always hoping that the value of its site would increase, whereas it had gone down and down as the district in which it lay had gradually deteriorated into a slum area.

Before she had time to speculate further, Ratnadatta took her up the broad staircase and along a corridor to a curiously shaped room. It was low ceilinged, very long but quite narrow. Half way along it stood a table on which were several decanters and some light refreshments. Along the far wall were a row of half-a-dozen elbow chairs, all of which faced an unbroken line of heavy brocade curtains.

After a glance round, Mary assumed from the position of the chairs that the curtains must screen windows out of which anyone seated opposite them could look when the curtains were drawn back. While she was wondering how, in such a place, there could possibly be a prospect worthy of such elaborate arrangements for looking at, Ratnadatta had gone to the table and filled a wine glass from one of the decanters. Offering it to her with a bow he said:

‘This you will like. It ees a rare wine coming from Greece. In old times it was great favourite with priestesses who serve the oracle at Delphi.’

On sipping the near-purple coloured liquid, she thought it tasted like a rich sherry in which aromatic herbs had been steeped. Finding it very pleasant she drank about half the contents of the glass. Ratnadatta meanwhile had helped himself to a lighter golden coloured wine, and remarked:

‘For me something drier. Off this wine off Cyprus I am very fond. Come now. Be seated, plees, and soon I shall show you that I haf made no idle boast off the powers bestowed by Our Lord Satan on those who serve him well.’

They sat down side by side in two of the elbow chairs and for some ten minutes the Indian resumed his discourse on ancient rites; then, having glanced at his watch, he leaned
forward and pulled a cord that drew back the pair of heavy curtains facing which they were seated. To Mary’s surprise this did not reveal a window; only a blank wall covered in patterned satin; but in it, opposite each of the chairs, was what she at first took to be a ventilator, as it was an aperture about six inches square, covered with fine mesh wire netting.

Ratnadatta signed to her to look through it, and when her eyes came close to the wire she found that these secret observation posts gave an excellent view of a large and lofty room. She guessed that at one time it had probably been a banqueting hall, and the curious shaped room in which she was sitting a minstrels’ gallery, opening into it. But now the former had more the appearance of a chapel. At its far end, covered with a broad strip of blood-red silk, was a long raised slab, that looked as though it might be used as an altar. Beyond it stood a great carved throne of ebony, and behind that, tall red silk curtains having embroidered upon them in gold a design of two drop-shaped sections with curved tails interlocking to form a circle, which, although Mary did not know it, was the Yin and the Yang – the Eastern symbol for the male and female principles. In the body of the hall, to either side of a central aisle, instead of pews were ranged a dozen or more divans plentifully stocked with cushions of many colours, and from somewhere out of sight came the sounds of a band tuning up.

Down in the hall some twenty people were already assembled, and were being joined by others. They were coming in by a door that Mary could not see, as it was below the balcony in which she was sitting, but just within her range of vision there was a large table on which stood an array of bottles and glasses; and each newcomer helped himself to a drink from it before joining the earlier arrivals.

From the groups down below there came up a gentle murmur of conversation and from their behaviour they might have been guests at a perfectly respectable cocktail party. But one glance was enough to see that this gathering was far from being anything of that kind. Everyone present
was wearing a small black satin mask, a narrow black velvet garter below the left knee and silver sandals, but little else. They had on only long cloaks of transparent veiling, sparsely decorated with silver suns, moons or signs of the Zodiac; so that the bodies of all of them were almost as fully revealed as if they had been naked. The party consisted of roughly equal numbers of both sexes; among the women there was an enormously fat Negress and a young Chinese girl; among the men, two Negroes, one of whom had white hair, an Indian and two who looked like Japanese.