Brood of the Witch-Queen Sax Rohmer (read 50 shades of grey TXT) 📖

Ferrara’s cab driving back by the way it had come.

“Here,” he said, and gave the man half a sovereign, “wait for me.”

He started back along the road at a run. Even had he suspected that he was followed, Ferrara could not have seen him. But when Cairn came up level with the gate through which Ferrara had gone, he slowed down and crept cautiously forward.

Ferrara, who by this time had reached the other side of the field, was in the act of entering a barn-like building which evidently at some time had formed a portion of a farm. As the distant figure, opening one of the big doors, disappeared within:

“The place of which Myra has been dreaming!” muttered Cairn.

Certainly, viewed from that point, it seemed to answer, externally, to the girl’s description. The roof was of moss-grown red tiles, and Cairn could imagine how the moonlight would readily find access through the chinks which beyond doubt existed in the weatherworn structure. He had little doubt that this was the place dreamt of, or seen clairvoyantly, by Myra, that this was the place to which Ferrara had retreated in order to conduct his nefarious operations.

It was eminently suited to the purpose, being entirely surrounded by unoccupied land. For what ostensible purpose Ferrara has leased it, he could not conjecture, nor did he concern himself with the matter. The purpose for which actually he had leased the place was sufficiently evident to the man who had suffered so much at the hands of this modern sorcerer.

To approach closer would have been indiscreet; this he knew; and he was sufficiently diplomatic to resist the temptation to obtain a nearer view of the place. He knew that everything depended upon secrecy. Antony Ferrara must not suspect that his black laboratory was known. Cairn decided to return to Half-Moon Street without delay, fully satisfied with the result of his investigation.

He walked rapidly back to where the cab waited, gave the man his father’s address, and, in three-quarters of an hour, was back in Half-Moon Street.

Dr. Cairn had not yet dismissed the last of his patients; Myra, accompanied by Miss Saunderson, was out shopping; and Robert found himself compelled to possess his soul in patience. He paced restlessly up and down the library, sometimes taking a book at random, scanning its pages with unseeing eyes, and replacing it without having formed the slightest impression of its contents. He tried to smoke; but his pipe was constantly going out, and he had littered the hearth untidily with burnt matches, when Dr. Cairn suddenly opened the library door, and entered.

“Well?” he said eagerly.

Robert Cairn leapt forward.

“I have tracked him, sir!” he cried. “My God! while Myra was at Saunderson’s, she was almost next door to the beast! His den is in a field no more than a thousand yards from the garden wall⁠—from Saunderson’s orchid-houses!”

“He is daring,” muttered Dr. Cairn, “but his selection of that site served two purposes. The spot was suitable in many ways; and we were least likely to look for him next-door, as it were. It was a move characteristic of the accomplished criminal.”

Robert Cairn nodded.

“It is the place of which Myra dreamt, sir. I have not the slightest doubt about that. What we have to find out is at what times of the day and night he goes there⁠—”

“I doubt,” interrupted Dr. Cairn, “if he often visits the place during the day. As you know, he has abandoned his rooms in Piccadilly, but I have no doubt, knowing his sybaritic habits, that he has some other palatial place in town. I have been making inquiries in several directions, especially in⁠—certain directions⁠—”

He paused, raising his eyebrows, significantly.

“Additions to the Zenana!” inquired Robert.

Dr. Cairn nodded his head grimly.

“Exactly,” he replied. “There is not a scrap of evidence upon which, legally, he could be convicted; but since his return from Egypt, Rob, he has added other victims to the list!”

“The fiend!” cried the younger man, “the unnatural fiend!”

“Unnatural is the word; he is literally unnatural; but many women find him irresistible; he is typical of the unholy brood to which he belongs. The evil beauty of the Witch-Queen sent many a soul to perdition; the evil beauty of her son has zealously carried on the work.”

“What must we do?”

“I doubt if we can do anything today. Obviously the early morning is the most suitable time to visit his den at Dulwich Common.”

“But the new photographs of the house? There will be another attempt upon us tonight.”

“Yes, there will be another attempt upon us, tonight,” said the doctor wearily. “This is the year 1914; yet, here in Half-Moon Street, when dusk falls, we shall be submitted to an attack of a kind to which mankind probably has not been submitted for many ages. We shall be called upon to dabble in the despised magical art; we shall be called upon to place certain seals upon our doors and windows; to protect ourselves against an enemy, who, like Eros, laughs at locks and bars.”

“Is it possible for him to succeed?”

“Quite possible, Rob, in spite of all our precautions. I feel in my very bones that tonight he will put forth a supreme effort.”

A bell rang.

“I think,” continued the doctor, “that this is Myra. She must get all the sleep she can, during the afternoon; for tonight I have determined that she, and you, and I, must not think of sleep, but must remain together, here in the library. We must not lose sight of one another⁠—you understand?”

“I am glad that you have proposed it!” cried Robert Cairn eagerly, “I, too, feel that we have come to a critical moment in the contest.”

“Tonight,” continued the doctor, “I shall be prepared to take certain steps. My preparations will occupy me throughout the rest of today.”

XXX The Elemental

At dusk that evening, Dr. Cairn, his son, and Myra Duquesne met together in the library. The girl looked rather pale.

An odour of incense pervaded the house, coming from the doctor’s study, wherein he