`No,' replied Molly promptly. `I thought this afternoon that we might need the armaments before we were through; so you can go by N.7. While you were dropping your bags at the villa on our way out I picked up some things. C. B. has still got my big gun, but I have the small one in my bag, and I've two heavy truncheons, knuckle dusters and knives in the back of the car for you. I put in a couple of extra torches and a bottle of brandy as well.'
`Good old Mumsie ! You've thought of everything. I wish you'd let me have your gun, though.'
`No, darling. I'm hanging on to that. This is a chance in a life time to see how it works.' the streets of St. Maxime and Frejus hardly caused John a check, but he had to slow down to go through Cannes, and by then the sun was setting. When they passed Antibes the sky behind them was a rich glow of orange and salmon pink which by the time they crossed the River Var had faded to a few streaks. It was half past eight and the light had gone as they wound their way up the hill into St. Pancrace.
The sweep of their headlights picked out a man who was standing on the steps of the church. As John pulled up he came forward. He was tall and bearded. Leaning down to the car window he asked in a low voice
`Has Monsieur come from St. Tropez?'
`Yes,.' replied John. `We are the friends of Monsieur le Comte.'
`Good!' nodded the man, and went on, `Monsieur will excuse me if I do not introduce myself. It will serve if you call me Number One and my companion, who you will meet later, Number Two. Do you know the road to Falicon?' John shook his head.
`It is through Gairaut and no great distance; but perhaps it would be best if Madame would allow me to occupy the front seat next to Monsieur.'
The rearrangement was soon made by Molly getting out and joining Beddows in the back. As they set off along the twisting road up hill again, John asked
`May we know where we are going?'
`Monsieur has given his word to M. le Comte not to communicate with the police until I and my friend have left him?'
`Yes; we won't let you down about that.'
`Then I am about to take you to the Cave of the Bats.'
Into John's mind there flashed a memory of the first time he had been in the crypt at The Priory, and had seen the bat nailed upside down to the broken crucifix on the altar. He suppressed a shudder as Beddows asked, in French that had an appalling accent but was just comprehensible:
`What sort of place is it?'
`A very unusual cave, Monsieur. Most caves are natural fissures in the rock and run more or less level for some distance into the mountainside; but this is not at all like that. It is entered by dropping through a hole high up on the side of a hill and, was made by man, or at' least has been much adapted by him, as it has several passages of uniform size and one quite large vaulted chamber. Even the archaeologists who visit it at times cannot say what race of men first used it. There is a legend that the Phoenicians offered up human sacrifices to their god, Pdaloch, there; but many think that long before that pre historic man had hewed the little temple nearly a hundred metres below the surface of the hillside as a place to perform his secret rites with doves and virgins.'
John felt the palms of his hands go damp upon the wheel. He had expected that he might have to break into some little wayside chapel which was being desecrated, or stumble his way through the ruins of a long since abandoned monastery; but this underground warren which had been the scene of countless ritual murders through the centuries sounded infinitely more terrifying. He began to pray that they would catch up with the Satanists before the latter reached their horrible rendezvous.
After they had covered another five kilometres up the winding hill road they approached a group of houses, and Number One said, `This is the hamlet of St. Michael. It is here that we leave the car. To the left of the crossroads there is an inn. You can park your car in the open space alongside it.'
As they pulled up and got out, a figure emerged from the shadow of some trees and gave a low whistle. Number One replied to it and the figure approached. It was Number Two. In a husky voice he made his report
`The tip off that M. le Comte got about the meeting being here was a right one. The party arrived in five cars nearly an hour ago. There were thirteen of them; nine men and four women. Out of the cars they unloaded a packing case, a big trunk, two stretchers to carry them on and some suitcases; then they sent all the cars away. One of the men led the way as guide and the other eight carried the loads on the stretchers. It was all very orderly with everything evidently arranged beforehand, as none of them uttered a word. They just formed a little procession and set off up the hill.'
John drew a quick breath. `Then they are nearly an hour ahead of us ! I was told that the meeting was not due to start till nine o'clock. It can't be much more than twenty to, and they may have started already.'
`No, Monsieur.' Number One shook his head. `They should be punctual, but not much in advance of the time set. They cannot have yet reached the cave. With burdens to carry over rough ground and uphill all the way they will find it a good hour's walk.'
Beddows swore, then apologized to Molly. Like John, he felt that the fact that they should be able to catch up a little through having nothing to carry was small consolation. He, too, had had an eye on the time, but had not realised that a long, hard walk lay ahead of them; so he had believed that there was a good hope of their coming up with the Canon's party before it reached the cave. Now that hope was dashed and they would have no alternative but to go down into it.
`There are times when I become profane myself,' Molly
replied a little grimly; then she added to John. `I shan't keep you a moment, but I'm just going into the inn.'
`Would it not be as well if Madame remained there?' suggested Number One.
`Yes, Mumsie,' said John quickly, `you must. You can't come up to this place with us.'
`Of course I'm coming,' she retorted, as she turned away.
`No, you are not,' he called after her. `I won't let you! And, anyhow, we can't possibly wait.'
`If you don't I'll get lost trying to follow you and probably fall down a precipice,' she called back. 'I tell you I won't keep you a moment; but I've been out all day and I simply must pop in here before I start climbing that hill.'
As she disappeared through the lighted doorway of the inn, John and Beddows got the weapons and torches out of the back of the car and distributed them in various pockets. Molly was as good as her word and rejoined them after a few minutes. Then, with Number Two leading the way, they set off in Indian file up a track that curved round behind some outhouses and chicken runs.
Within a few minutes they were out on the bare hillside and began to appreciate how rough the walking was going to be. The path was barely a foot wide and in places disappeared entirely. It wound in and out among knee high boulders between which grew myrtle, wild thyme and a low leafless shrub that had sharp prickles. Before they had covered two hundred yards they had barked their ankles half a dozen times stumbling over rocks and Molly's nylons were ruined.
`The Canon and his crew must have had the hell of a job getting up here with loaded stretchers,' John muttered.
`They were using torches, and that would have made keeping to the track much easier for them,' replied Number Two. `But we dare not do so, in case one of them is acting as a sentry on the hilltop and spots us following them.'
The path zigzagged diagonally along the slope of the hill and on their left its crest was visible against a starlit sky. After twenty minutes' gruelling tramp they reached a sparse belt of low trees, and Molly stopped to ask breathlessly
`How much further is it?'
`We are not half way yet, Madame,' Number One told her. `But higher up you will find the going a little less difficult.'
`Why not wait for us here, Mumsie?' John pleaded.
`No.' She shook her head. `I shall manage somehow.' Panting, they stumbled on through the trees until they came to a series of low terraces, which suggested that the hilltop had once been a Roman fort. Now they had to scramble up the rough stone walls of each terrace. Even with help Molly was sobbing for breath, and upon mounting the second she panted
