Page:Weird Tales volume 02 number 03.djvu/56

Rh so that they look the part. The victim really has a kind of power over them which we may be able to use in your favor."

Through the wall came the sound of chanting.

"How beautiful!" cried Senta, as the rhythmic music swung nearer to them.

"Hush! Don't listen to it!" cried Judith in a vehement whisper. "It is the Devil's own music—it will sap your will power. I know, for I wrote it! Yes," she replied to Senta's questioning eyes, "and I believed in the Devil while I was writing it, while he helped me write it!" She shuddered and glanced back over her shoulder with a curious look of dread.

Alternately attracted and repelled by her strange companion, Senta said no more but managed to keep her thoughts away from the haunting music. It stopped at last and there was a long silence; then a burst of noise prolonged into an uproar, terminating finally in what sounded like an argument between two people. Senta saw a worried look on Judith's face.

"I don't understand this," muttered Judith. "I must go to Sebastian. Stay here."

She ran swiftly down the passage and disappeared. Senta tremblingly listened to Sebastian's fury, unintelligible to her. She heard him approach the door where she stood and tried to suppress her terror when he suddenly threw aside the curtain and opened the door. Dazed by the horror of the dreadful creatures leaping and yelling beneath her, it was only by thinking of Eric's danger that she gathered courage to offer herself as a sacrifice.

HERE followed an outburst of exultant yells. Eric gazed at the shaking little figure and doubted his senses.

Surely she could not have been perverted to Devil Worship! Why, then, was she willing? But, dismissing this question as temporarily unimportant, he swung himself over the balcony rail, his plan of rescue already clear in his mind.

The black pillars supporting the balcony were fortunately in the shadow, so that his dark figure was practically invisible as he slid down to the floor. Mingling with the seething mob, whose attention was concentrated upon Senta, it was an easy matter to reach the altar, leap across it and throw his arms around the tall masked woman. Holding her powerless with one arm, he pressed his automatic against her head, just as Sebastian sprang at him with a furious snarl.

Erie jumped backward, into the shadows, dragging the woman with him.

"Keep off!" he hissed, "or I'll kill her!"

Sebastian stopped short. For a moment they glared at each other, while the yelling crowd surged toward its prospective victim, utterly unheeding the silent drama in the shadow of the Devil Statue.

Eric spoke in a sharp whisper.

"I'll kill her," he repeated, "if you attack me or make a single move to betray me to those devils. But let me get my girl away and you can have yours."

"You!" exclaimed Sebastian, speaking softly even in his amazement.

The woman was struggling to raise her face which Eric pressed tightly against his shoulder.

"You're hurting her!" protested Sebastian in an agonized whisper.

The sight of Senta's terror had made Erie quite merciless.

"I'll do worse than hurt her," he threatened, "if you don't help me get Senta away. Tell them the victim must be prepared for the sacrifice—but be very careful what you say," he warned, "and don't get too near Senta, either."

Sebastian turned abruptly and his imperious voice compelled the attention of the frenzied creatures.

"You have seen the victim," he told them, "now she must be taken away to be prepared. Go back to your places, and pray our Master to accept the sacrifice."

The Worshipers swarmed back to their places and knelt, with their heads bowed almost to the floor.

Still holding the woman, Eric attained the doorway and pushed Senta through it. She went quietly, but Sebastian caught at the woman in Eric's arm.

"Give Judith to me!" he demanded in a fierce undertone.

"We haven't escaped yet," Eric whispered. He lifted her across the threshold and slammed the narrow door in Sebastian's furious face.

But the door had no lock and Sebastian tore it open and pursued them down the passage. Eric knew that even if Sebastian had a gun he dare not shoot for fear of wounding Judith. He therefore held her fast in one arm. Pushing Senta before him he took the first turning that offered and found himself again at the door of the stone room above the torture-cell. A glance showed him that the guard still lay under the bench.

Eric released Judith and turned to bar the door. But Sebastian had already stepped inside and slammed the door. Eric found himself looking into the muzzle of a pistol.

Before Sebastian had time to say: "Hands up!" Eric dived and, "tackling" in football style, he knocked Sebastian's feet from under him. The gun exploded harmlessly in the air and Sebastian went down. His head crashed against the stone floor and he lay motionless.

With an anguished moan Judith threw herself down by her husband, but Eric pushed her gently aside, lifted the unconscious man and laid him on a bench.

"He is only stunned. It isn't serious," he told her, adding mentally: "More's the pity!"

Judith lifted tragic eyes to Eric's face. "If he dies," she said, "you will have killed your cousin."

"My cousin!" exclaimed Eric. He leaned over and studied the quiet face.

"Sebastian Ericsson," he said thoughtfully. "I heard he was dead years ago. But even without the scars I wouldn't have known him. We were never together at all, except for a week he spent with us just after his father died, We were only boys at the time, but we hated each other even then."

"And his hate has grown with the years," said Judith somberly.

"While I had almost forgotten him," remarked Eric.

"My father tried to befriend him, meant to adopt him, in fact. But he was such a treacherous, sneering, malignant brute that I think we were all glad when he disappeared. He acted as if we had done him a mortal injury."

"You had!" cried Judith with flashing eyes. "Your father had stolen the inheritance. Why should Torvald Ericsson leave his fortune in trust for Sigismund's son, Sigismund, who denounced his father and would have nothing whatever to do with him? Whereas Eldred was high among the Devil Worshipers, and was his father's faithful helper and companion till death."

"And from what I've heard of Uncle Eldred," Eric commented grimly, "Torvald Ericsson's death was probably hastened by his faithful companion. There was no love lost between them."

"Eldred was a good son to him," she maintained, "and yet his son was disinherited." She laid her hand tenderly on Sebastian's head.

"Well, my dear girl, there's no good arguing about it now," remarked Eric smiling. "Anyway, Lord knows I've not a cent in the world that I didn't earn myself!"

"But you will have!" she cried, quickly. "You are thirty!"

"O—ho!" said Eric, "So that's the explanation of all this mixup. Our friend here learned something one of