the place. That may sound very different from what I have made of my life, but I would have been far happier doing that. With those kiddies to look after there would have been more new interests every day than I get out of all my businesses; and no man could have been unhappy with Isobel for a wife.'
Beddows sighed heavily. `But it was not to be. Before Isobel was twenty four she fell ill. She was so frail that I think she must have always have had it in her, but she caught a chill and soon afterwards T.B. developed. After a bit they sent her to Switzerland, and I was distraught. But I managed to see her alone before she left. We swore we would love one another always and, of course, we promised to write frequently.
`We did; and for the first few weeks I received her letters quite regular. They told me about the place, and he other patients; about the nice young doctor who vas looking after her, and how she was sure she would be well enough to come home in time for Christmas.
Then her letters grew more infrequent, and after two intervals of ten days they stopped altogether. If I'd been a town chap I suppose I would have telegraphed her to know what was wrong, but sending cables to foreign countries was away over the head of a young country feller like I was in those days. I put her silence down to the young doctor. You see, I'd never been able to convince myself that I was good enough for her; so I didn't even write and ask her to let me know if she had changed her mind about marrying me. I just let my misery have free reign, and decided to stop writing till I heard from her again.
`About three weeks went by like that; then one day, as Mrs. Durnsford was getting into the car, she told me quite casual that Isobel was dead. It was a dirty, wicked lie may her soul rot ! But I never found that out until years later; in fact not until after she was dead herself. She had no near relatives, and when she died her executors sold off the whole contents of the house as well as the place. I had my own furniture, and I didn't want any of hers; but I thought the shelves in the study would look a bit bare without some books, so I bought those at the sale. Naturally, the executors removed her private papers, but there was one lot they overlooked. I came on them soon after I moved in. They were with a pack of Tarot cards and a collection of witch's brew recipes in what was left of a big old family Bible that had had its middle cut out to form a box. Among them was a score of letters from Isobel to me that I had never had.
`It was quite clear then what had happened. My post had always been delivered to the house with the rest of the letters before being brought across the yard to me by one of the maids. The old bitch must have seen a letter with Swiss stamps on addressed to me in Isobel's writing, steamed it open and read it. In our letters we naturally wrote of our love for one another and of our future plans. The thought of people being happy and making life better for a lot of crippled kids would have been poison to old Mother Durnsford. I bet she got no end of a kick out of sabotaging all our hopes. It would have been easy for her to intercept Isobel's letters a few at first, then all of them later on. That's what she had done; and when she judged that she had got me really worried she both provided an explanation why I had not received any letters from Isobel for the past few weeks and gave me the knock out; because the inference was that for some time before her death Isobel had been too ill to write. Mother Durnsford had rounded the affair off nice and neatly the other end too. The envelope of Isobel's last letter was marked `to await collection' and I saw from it that the old woman had written her saying that I'd gone away and left no address.
`Even that was not the full measure of her malice. Naturally, after I thought Isobel was dead I went all to pieces for a bit. But I was young and healthy, and next spring I started to tumble Hettie evenings in the barn. I've told you how she got in the family way with Ellen and spilled the beans about it. That must have given Mother Durnsford a fine old laugh. I didn't know it then, but she had learned from Isobel's letters how anxious I was to educate and improve myself. Nothing could have been more likely to scotch that than to tie me up to a brainless little working class slut who was going to have a kid, and would probably go on producing them like rabbits.
`Well, it didn't work out that way. But she succeeded in robbing me of Isobel; and you are quite right in your idea that losing her altered my whole life. I still don't see, though, what that has to do with the Canon and Ellen.'
John had listened to Beddows' love story with intense interest, and now he asked, `Did you ever find out what happened to Isobel?'
`Yes. After I found those letters I had enquiries made. There had been a world war in between, but they succeeded in tracing her up. She did die, but not till nearly a year after I believed her dead; and ever since I learned that I've been tortured by the belief that she just let herself die of a broken heart.'
`Say she had lived, Mr. Beddows, and you had found out sooner that she was alive would you have married her after your first wife died?'
`Of course I would.!
'But you couldn't possibly have married a person as fine as she was, unless you had first forsworn the Devil. To have continued secretly as a Satanist would have robbed your marriage with her of all the genuine happiness you expected to derive from it.'
`Yes; I see that,' Beddows admitted slowly. `Still, love is the greatest protective force in existence. I think hers would have proved strong enough to shield me from all but loss of my worldly wealth. Anyhow, it's true that I should have had to abjure in order to put myself right with her; and for her sake I would have risked anything.'
`You must have loved her very deeply.'
`More than anything in this world or the next.'
`Then you will be able to understand how I feel, Mr. Beddows, when I tell you that I love your daughter.'
Beddows raised his eyebrows. `Is that so? You haven't known her very long, have you?'
`No; but in the hours we have spent together much more has happened than during an ordinary courtship. We are already engaged to be married.'
For the first time a glint of humour showed in Beddows' brown eyes as he asked, `Am I to take it that you've come here to night to ask my consent?'
`We should be glad to have your blessing,' John answered seriously. `But first we need the help that only you can give. And you know how desperately we need it.'
`I'm sorry. Indeed I am. But it's no good harking back to that.'
`Mr. Beddows, you have just said that you loved Isobel more than anything in this world or the next. That implies that you still love her spirit. If it were here in this room to night as it may well be and could speak to you, what would it say? You know as well as I do that it would beg you to become again the person it knew and loved. It would urge you to defy Satan in order to save your daughter and make possible the happiness of another pair of lovers.'
`Yes,' Beddows muttered. `That's what it would say.'
`Then if you still love her, do this for her sake.'
The eyes of the man in the pentacle suddenly blazed, and he shouted, `Damn you, stop torturing me! I can’t! I won’t! Get to hell out of here P
After his long and skilful guidance of their talk, John had felt that he was almost on the verge of victory; so
Beddows' outburst came as a bitter disappointment. For a moment he remained silent, searching his mind for some last card that might yet win him over. To his distress he could think of nothing approaching the potency of the arguments he had already used; so he could only fall back upon what he felt to be a frail piece of reasoning, unlikely to alter a mind so evidently fixed by terror in its determination. Nevertheless he threw out the suggestion with no lessening of persistence.
`You were saying a little while ago that if Isobel had still been alive and you had abjured to put yourself right with her, you thought that her love would have protected you from all but the loss of your worldly wealth. Surely, although she is now a spirit, her love would continue to protect you?'
`No.' Beddows' voice was firm. `For all I know, during those last months she may have believed that I had deliberately jilted her, and died hating me. I can't afford to chance that. There is one thing and one thing only that could protect me. That is to cheat Satan by getting back the Pact I signed with him.'
John's muscles tensed. `D'you know where it is?' `Copely Syle has it.'
`I naturally supposed so; but he wouldn't carry it about on him. I mean, do you know where he keeps it?'
`I don't know for certain, but I can give a good guess. It is a hundred to one that after offering it up he would place a document of that kind under the Satanic altar in his crypt.'
