A Son of Perdition: An Occult Romance

"Nature-spirits," insisted Alice quickly. "Oh, one day when I was on the moor Don Pablo came along. He told me about them and I did not believe in such things. Then he took my hand, saying I was clairvoyant. In some way his touch or some power which he poured into me opened" – Alice was puzzled how the experience could be explained – "opened a third eye, as it might be. I don't know exactly how to put it, but in some way I saw – "

"Saw what?"

"Little men and women on the heather. Some were playing and others were at work. The ground I sat on was alive with them. Yet when Don Pablo took his hand away, the third eye closed and they vanished. But of course they were still around me, though I could not see them. I told Julian about pixies and nixies, and he laughingly said that it needed the eye of faith to see them. I daresay that was my third eye. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly. Eberstein has explained some of these things to me. And I had an experience – " Douglas broke off abruptly, remembering that the doctor had asked him to say nothing about his vision. "Well, it doesn't matter. But I quite believe that the veil can be lifted, or perhaps – a better way of putting it – the veil can be seen through."

It was lucky for Montrose that Alice's attention was distracted at the moment, as she might have pressed him overhard to relate his experience. And as she had her full share of feminine curiosity, she would not have been put off with evasive replies. But at the rude jetty a boat had arrived and in the boat was a tall girl, whom Miss Enistor recognised at once. She told Montrose to stay where he was and ran down the slope to speak with Rose Penwin. The reason why she did not want Douglas to accompany her was obvious.

"Oh, Rose, why have you not been up to see me?" asked Alice, when the girl moored her boat to the jetty and stepped ashore.

"I have been too busy, miss," replied Rose, smiling, and showing a set of very white teeth. "Did you want me?"

"It's about Job Trevel."

"Oh!" Rose flushed and drew herself up. "What's he been saying?"

"Nothing. I haven't seen him. But people are talking, Rose."

"Let them talk," retorted the girl sullenly. "If I'd a shilling for every bad word they say of me I should be rich."

Alice looked at her in pained silence. Rose was a magnificent-looking woman, tall and stately, highly coloured and beautiful. With her black hair and black eyes and perfectly moulded figure, she looked the embodiment of a sea-goddess. Also her dress was picturesque, with a touch of colour here and there pleasing to the eye. But what Alice looked at most was a snake bracelet of Indian workmanship in silver which clung round her right wrist. "Do you think it right to let Don Pablo give you such presents?"

Rose flushed still deeper and her eyes flashed with anger. "He might be my grandfather," she snapped in a savage manner.

"But he isn't," replied Alice earnestly. "Oh, Rose, you know how hot-blooded Job is. And if you give him cause to be jealous – "

"I don't care if he's jealous or not, miss. The likes of me is a sight too good for the likes of him."

"But he's an honest man – "

"So is Don Pablo, and what's more he's a richer man. If he was young I wouldn't let him give me things. But whatever they may say, an old gentleman like that don't mean no harm. Besides, I haven't said yes to Job."

"But you will say yes."

"That depends upon how Job behaves himself, miss. I'm not going to have him glowering and swearing as if I was doing something wrong, which I ain't. And begging your pardon, miss, I don't see what you've got to do with it."

"I don't want to see you get into trouble," said Alice indiscreetly.

Rose flashed round furiously. "Who said I was going to get into trouble? I like pretty things, and if an old gentleman gives them to me, where's the harm, I should like to know?"

"Job's jealousy – "

"Let him keep it to himself," interrupted Rose, who was in a fine rage. "I ain't his wife yet to be at his beck and call. And perhaps I never shall be if it comes to that. Don Pablo says that a girl like me would make plenty of money in London as an artist's model: or I might go on the stage."

"I think Don Pablo should be ashamed of himself to poison your mind in this way," burst out Alice, angry in her turn. "Don't be a fool."

Inherited respect for the Squire's daughter kept Rose within bounds, but for the moment she looked as though she would strike Alice. With an effort she turned away, biting her lip and clenching her hands. "I'll forget myself if I stay, miss. You'd best keep away from me!" and before Miss Enistor could stop her she fairly ran up the path past Montrose on her hurried way to the village. Douglas turned to stare after the flying figure, and wondered what Alice had said to send the girl away with such wrath depicted on her face.

At the same moment as Rose disappeared Alice heard a deep male voice speaking to her, and turned to see Job clambering up on the hither side of the jetty. He was a tall, bulky, powerful man, with red hair and keen blue eyes, handsome and virile in a common way, and exhibited a strength which appealed to every woman for miles around. At one time it appealed to Rose, but since Don Pablo had poisoned her mind she had risked an unpleasant exhibition of that strength by her coquettish behaviour. Job looked dour and dangerous, and there was a spark in his blue eyes.

"I heard what you said, Miss Alice," he remarked, drawing a deep breath. "I was under the jetty waiting for her coming. But when you spoke to her I thought I'd just wait to hear if she'd listen to sense."

"It doesn't seem like it, Job," said Alice sadly, and looked with distress on the splendid figure of her foster-brother.

"No, it don't, miss," he responded gloomily. "She's got the bit between her teeth, she has. It's all that foreign devil, begging your pardon for the word, Miss Alice. I'd like to strangle him."

"Don't be silly, talking in that way, Job. It's dangerous."

"It will be for him, if he don't sheer off," muttered the man vengefully.

"Job, you know quite well that Don Pablo is an old man: he must be eighty if an hour. You can't be jealous of him."

"But I am, Miss Alice, and it ain't no good saying as I'm not. What right has he to give her presents and talk about taking her to London? I'll break his neck if he goes on with such talk."

Alice tried to defend the Spaniard, not because she thought he was acting rightly, but for the simple reason that she wished to talk Job into a calmer state of mind. At the moment the man was dangerous. "Don Pablo only admires Rose as a beautiful woman," she urged.

"Then he shan't. No one shall admire her but me. And if he wants to marry, Miss Alice – "

"Oh, nonsense," she broke in. "Why, he's too old."

"Well, they did say as you were going to marry him," retorted Trevel coolly.

"I am going to do nothing of the sort," cried the girl, stamping her foot. "I think you should be more sensible than to suggest such a thing."

"I didn't suggest it," said Job stolidly. "But the Squire wants – "

"I don't care what the Squire wants," interrupted Alice, with another stamp. "People say things they have no right to say. You are my foster-brother, Job, and I allow you more licence than most. But you must never speak to me in this way again."

"I didn't mean any harm, Miss Alice, and my heart is sore."

"Poor Job!" Alice became sorry for the big man. "You do suffer, and Rose ought to be ashamed of herself to cause you such pain. Get her to marry you at once and laugh at Don Pablo."

"She won't. He's got her fair under his thumb, Miss Alice," said Trevel gloomily. "I hate him, and so does everyone else. He's the only man as I ever heard the parson have a bad word for. There's something about that foreign chap," Job clenched a huge fist, "as makes you want to squash him like a toad."

Alice nodded comprehendingly. "All the same you must do him no harm, or you will get into trouble. And remember, Job, that I am your friend" – she gave him her hand – "and to prove it I shall tell you what will please you. I am engaged to that gentleman over there – Mr. Montrose."

Trevel shook the hand heartily and his face grew good-natured. "I'm fair glad of it, miss. I've seen the gentleman and like the gentleman. He's been down in the village with Mr. Hardwick, as we like also. As to that foreigner, miss – ugh!" Job scowled and turned away, while Alice went back to Douglas.

"I have been trying to reconcile two lovers, but I have failed," she told him.

"What is the cause of the quarrel?" asked the young man, amused.

"A dangerous one. Don Pablo," and she gave details.

"What an old beast!" said Montrose. "If I were that fisherman I'd screw his neck."

"Don't put such ideas into Job's head," cried Alice rebukingly. "He is angry enough as it is!"

"All the worse for Don Pablo, my dear!" and so they left the matter, which was of less importance then than it became afterwards.

CHAPTER XIII

FURTHER SMALL BEER CHRONICLES

When the young people went to church, Enistor took the opportunity of paying a visit to Narvaez. The effort to keep up an appearance of friendship for a man he hated was not easy, and the Squire wished to unbend in the society of one who knew his true sentiments. Also he greatly desired to learn what were Don Pablo's plans regarding the restoration of the fortune, for the Spaniard did not seem to be moving in the matter at all, and valuable time was being wasted. And since Enistor was anxious to get rid of Montrose as speedily as possible, he thought it was just as well to suggest that the scheme – whatever it might be – should be completed as soon as could be conveniently managed. The master of Tremore wanted to handle the coveted income; he wished to see his daughter married to Narvaez, and finally he desired to learn the nature of this danger at which Don Pablo hinted so frequently. Of course the marriage with the Spaniard, by making possible the training of Alice's clairvoyant powers, would soon disclose this last.

Enistor walked leisurely over the moor to where the evil mount with its crown of monoliths was indistinctly outlined against the grey sky. As it was now autumn, the heavens had lost their summer azure, and the earth had been stripped of its flowering splendour. He wandered through a ruined world, where the red and brown and yellow of the dying bracken were veiled in chilly mists. The ground was sodden, the herbage was dripping wet, and the cries of the birds sounded mournful, as though they were regretting the passing of warm weather. That Enistor should see the prostrate body of a man lying amidst the fantastic colours of the moorland seemed to be so much in keeping with the general air of decay and sadness that he did not even start when he bent over the still form. But he did utter an ejaculation when he looked at the white face and recognised Julian Hardwick.

Why the artist should be here in an unconscious condition Enistor did not pause to inquire. He was above all a man of action, and as it was necessary to revive Hardwick, he hastened to fill his cap with water at a convenient pool. The chill of the fluid on the white face flushed it with returning life, and when Enistor loosened the collar, and shook the body, Julian opened his eyes languidly. In a half-dazed way he murmured something about brandy, a hint which the Squire acted upon by searching the artist's pockets. He soon found what he looked for, and a drink of the generous liquor revived Hardwick so speedily that he was soon able to sit up and talk.

"My heart is weak," he said in a stronger voice, buttoning his collar.

Enistor was frankly amazed. "Why, you always look singularly healthy."

"Because I am big and well-covered with flesh it is natural you should think so, Mr. Enistor. But the heart doesn't do its work properly. That is why I live so much in the open air, and – "

"Don't talk so much. You are exhausting yourself."

Hardwick took a second drink of brandy, and as the heart quickened he began to look more like his old self. "I am all right now," he assured his helper, "I can manage to crawl to my lodgings and lie down for a time." He got on to his feet and stretched himself languidly. "I always carry brandy on the chance of these attacks!"

"You couldn't have used the brandy had I not been here to help you," said the Squire bluntly. "If you are liable to such seizures you should not venture to wander on these lonely moors by yourself."

"Perhaps not! But it is rarely I become so incapable. Thank you very much for being so kind. I shall go home now."

Then Enistor made an effort which rather amazed himself. "Let me take you home, Hardwick. You are not fit to go by yourself."

Hardwick was as amazed as the man who made this offer. "I didn't think you would bother about me in that way," he said weakly: then he straightened himself with an effort. "Thank you all the same, but I can manage!" And giving his preserver a friendly handshake, he moved along the path which meandered towards Polwellin.

The Squire stood looking after him, thinking that he might fall again and require further assistance. But the tall figure moved steadily through the mists, apparently possessed of sufficient vital power to reach the haven of home in safety. Then the Squire thoughtfully resumed his way to Don Pablo's cottage, wondering at the discovery he had made. Hardwick looked so strong and well, and was so massive and imposing in appearance, that no one could possibly have guessed that his heart was weak. But Enistor did not wonder at this alone: he wondered also at his own kind offer to go out of his way to help any one in distress. It was rather a weak thing to do, he reflected, and not at all an action of which Narvaez would approve. All the same Enistor resolved to tell the Spaniard if only for his own glorification.

Don Pablo was seated by a huge fire in his sinister study, with a paper in his hands covered with odd signs and hieroglyphics. With his usual serenity he murmured a welcome and pointed to a chair. But he did not speak further for the moment and Enistor employed the time in trying to read the inscrutable face, which was seamed with a thousand wrinkles and made quite inhuman by the passionless look of the cold, steady, blue eyes. Shortly the old man laid the paper aside with a sigh of satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" asked Enistor curiously.

"I have been casting Hardwick's horoscope," was the unexpected reply. "For the satisfaction of his own curiosity he gave me the day and hour of his birth," he smiled in a cruel way. "I don't think he will be pleased at what I have to tell him."

A telepathic message passed swiftly from one trained brain to the other and Enistor nodded in a surprised manner. "He may die at any moment," said the Squire, translating Don Pablo's thoughts. "Well, that is very likely. I found him unconscious on the moor a short time ago."

"He is not dead?" questioned Narvaez, with unusual interest.

"Oh no. I revived him with water and some brandy he had in his pocket. Also I offered to see him home."

"Why?" demanded the other coldly.

"Well, he seemed weak and – "

"How often have I told you that other people's troubles do not concern you, Enistor! If you choose to waste your powers on assisting weaker persons, you will lose much force better employed in your own gain."

"I am not quite so hard as you are," snapped the Squire, sharply.

"Not quite so wise, you mean," was the unmoved response. "However, I pardon your weakness on this occasion, as I don't want Hardwick to die – yet."

"Do you wish him to die at all?"

"My last word implied that I did. It is part of my plan to get the fortune you desire, which also means that I shall secure your daughter as my wife."

"But I don't see – "

"There is no need for you to see," said Narvaez tyrannically; "you do what I tell you and all will be well."

"Do you mean to kill Hardwick?"

"No! There is no need for me to move a finger. His horoscope shows an early death from natural causes. Having found him unconscious, I leave you to guess what those causes will be."

"I have no need to guess. Hardwick's heart is weak."

"Exactly. The organs of his body are healthy, but he has not a sufficiently strong heart. If he could get a fresh supply of vitality he would be a powerful and long-lived man."

"Do you intend to give him that vitality?" sneered the visitor.

Narvaez chuckled. "Yes! You will see that splendid body walking about filled with strenuous life some day soon."

"The body walking about." Enistor stared keenly at the mocking, cruel face. "I must say you speak very strangely."

"I speak as I speak, and what I mean to say I say," rejoined Don Pablo enigmatically. "Let us change the subject, as I am busy. Your errand?"

"I only came to get the taste of that young prig out of my mouth!"

"And waste my time. Why can't you rely on your own strength? I am not going to have you here draining mine, particularly when this body I have at present is so frail. Act the courteous host and give the young fool as much of your daughter's company as he desires. The rest can be left to me."

"But when are you going to move in the matter?"

"When the time is ripe and when I choose. How often am I to tell you that it is impossible to hurry things? Corn takes time to grow: a rose takes time to unfold, and everything in the visible and invisible world progresses inch by inch, step by step. Nature, as you should know by this time, is a tortoise and not a kangaroo."

"There is another reason why I came," said Enistor, accepting the rebuke with a meekness foreign to his nature; "that fisherman – Trevel!"

"Well? He is annoyed because I give the girl jewels, and waken her ambition to be something better than a domestic drudge."

"His annoyance extends to an intention to kill you," said Enistor dryly. "I advise you to be careful, Master. Trevel is dangerous."

"Dangerous!" Narvaez spoke with supreme contempt. "You know what I am and yet talk of danger to me from an ignorant boor. I could guard myself in a hundred ways if I so chose. But," ended Narvaez deliberately, "I do not choose."

"I wonder what you mean?"

"You may wonder. Threatened men live long. Content yourself with that proverb. And now go; I am busy!"

Without a word Enistor rose and walked to the door. There he paused to say a few words not complimentary to Narvaez, and he said them with a black look of suppressed rage. "You treat me like a dog," snarled the weaker man. "Be careful that I do not bite you like a dog."

"I trust you as little as any one else, and am always on my guard," said the magician mildly, and stared in a cold sinister way at his pupil. Enistor felt a wave of some cruel force surge against him – a force which struck him with the dull stunning blows of a hammer, and which twisted his nerves so sharply that but for dogged pride he would have shrieked with pain. As it was he writhed and grew deadly pale, the sweat beading his brow showing what agony he suffered. Hours seemed to be concentrated into that one long minute during which Narvaez held him in the vice of his will, and made him suffer the torments of the damned.

"I beat my dog when he bites," said an unemotional voice. "Go!" And Enistor, conquered by supreme pain, crept away in silence. As the door closed, he heard his master chuckle like a parrot over a piece of cake.

The Squire returned painfully to Tremore, cursing himself for having been such a fool as to defy a man possessed of super-physical powers. Twice before he had done so, and each time Don Pablo had inflicted torments. The man, more learned than an ordinary hypnotist, simply used in a greater degree the will and suggestion which such a one employs. A hypnotist can make his subject believe that he has toothache, or has taken poison, by insisting with superior force that he shall so believe. Narvaez, more learned in the laws which govern this creation, compelled Enistor in this way to feel the torments of a heretic on the rack, without resorting to the ordinary necessity of casting his subject into a hypnotic trance. If Enistor had concentrated his will, he could have repelled the suggestion, but he had not the terrific power of concentration which ages of exercise had given Don Pablo. He was in the presence of a powerful influence, directed by an equally powerful will, and therefore had no weapons with which to fight his dark master. In a fury Enistor wished that he could make Narvaez suffer in the same degree, but he knew that he could never hope to do so. Even if he became possessed of knowledge, of concentration, and of a more powerful will than was human, the Spaniard knew of ways which could baffle the attack. The sole consolation which Enistor had to pacify his wounded pride was that there was no disgrace in a mere mortal being beaten by a superman. Narvaez, in a minor degree, was a god, a very evil god, and those worshippers who did not obey him felt very speedily what their deity could do. Enistor had no wish to measure forces with so powerful a being again.

For the rest of that week he left the magician alone and devoted himself to entertaining his guest. It was impossible to induce Narvaez to act until he chose to act, and all that could be done was to obey his instructions and behave agreeably to Montrose, so that the visitor might be lulled into false security. Never was there so amiable a host as the Squire; never was there so genial a companion, and Douglas became quite fascinated with a personality which transcended his own. The young man was so much weaker than his host that the latter wondered why Narvaez did not compel him to surrender the fortune by putting forth resistless power. Had Enistor guessed that Montrose's desire to do good and to love every one nullified the evil spell, he would have wondered less. And at the same time Enistor would have understood how, not having unselfish love in his own breast, he lay open to the assaults of the magician. As he treated others so he was treated, and a realisation of this golden truth would have enabled him to defy Narvaez and his suggestions. But the mere fact that he wished to exercise the same might-over-right free-lance law prevented his understanding how to defend himself from a more accomplished devil. And Don Pablo was as much a devil as there is possible to be one, since he wholly obeyed the instincts, carefully fostered, of hate and selfishness. Enistor was a very minor devil indeed, as he had too much of the milk of human kindness in him as yet to equal or rival the superior fiend.

In his determination to act his comedy thoroughly, Enistor went to the great length of asking the vicar and his wife to dinner. As Mr. Sparrow had never before been invited to break bread under the Squire's roof, he was extremely surprised by the unexpected honour. At first he was minded to decline, since Enistor never came to church and never took the least interest in matters connected with the parish. But Mrs. Sparrow pointed out that this desire for their company might be a sign of grace, and that if they went, it might entail the reformation of their host. Also the dinner was sure to be good, and she could wear her new dress in decent society, which she very rarely had an opportunity of doing. Urged in this way and having a certain amount of curiosity of his own regarding the splendours of the big house, Mr. Sparrow sent an acceptance in his neat Oxford calligraphy. The Squire gave it to his daughter and told her to order the dinner.

"See that it is a good one," said Enistor genially. "Sparrow is as lean as a fasting friar and won't object to a decent meal for once. It isn't Lent or any of their confounded Church feasts, is it?"

"No!" answered Alice, very much puzzled by this unusual behaviour; "but why do you ask Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow to dinner? I thought you didn't like them."

"I don't! They are a couple of bores. But it is rather dull here for Montrose, and we must get what society we can to cheer him up."

"I think Douglas is very well satisfied with my company," retorted the girl, rather nettled by the implied slight, "and these two bores, as you call them, certainly will not amuse him."

"Very well; ask Hardwick also. He isn't a bore and Montrose likes him."

"Julian isn't very well, father. He hasn't been since you found him on the moor fainting. But I shall send the invitation. Shall you ask Señor Narvaez?"