Death by the Mistletoe by Angus MacVicar Page B

round hole in his jacket.
    And it was then that James realised to the full the seriousness of the situation. For, after his shooting, Detective-Inspector McKay’s stern face twisted horribly, and he burst into hysterical laughter.
    “My God!” he cried. “I struck him twice at point-blank range! And he just walked on!”
    “He just walked on!” gasped Major Dallas. •
    The rest were afraid to glance at one another.
    *
    It seemed an eternity before James shook himself like a terrier and rose swiftly from the table.
    “Eileen!” he roared, careless that he used her first name. “Nicholson, see that she is safe! McKay — we must follow them!”
    He felt strong, now that his terror had passed. His wits had cleared, and they were strung up to fighting pitch. He forced from his mind the memory of McKay’s words. It was as if the terrible curse that the white-robed man had pronounced upon him had burned away all indecision and foreboding, leaving his spirit tempered and fine.
    McKay, his rigorous training in self-control coming to the rescue, jerked himself back to realities, though his hands still shook as if with fever. He and James dashed to the windows and leaped out into the garden, as the Rev. Duncan Nicholson ran swiftly to the door of the room.
    Outside it was still and quiet, save for the sough of the sea on the beach near by. A slip of moon was shining in the east. James caught sight of a white flicker far down the broad avenue.
    “There they are!” he cried.
    He and McKay had now been joined by Major Dallas and Inspector McMillan; but as they sprinted down the drive, the latter two were quickly outdistanced.
    James and the policeman had still some three hundred yards to go to reach the gate on to the main road, when the roar of a motor-car engine split the sea-filled quiet. They stopped short.
    “They’re taking my car!’’ panted James.
    Headlights stabbed the luminous darkness and wavered in the sky, and the old Morris rattled on to the road. It gathered speed as its driver raced through the gears. And then by degrees the sound of the engine died away in the distance.
    James and his companions stood bareheaded, breathless and helpless on the drive. The car had gone southwards, in the direction of the great Kiel Headland.
    “They’ve beaten us,” said James unnecessarily. “For the moment, at any rate.”
    “We must ʼphone up MacLeod to keep a watch for that car going through Campbeltown,” Inspector McMillan still retained his instincts. “They cannot leave the parish in any other way, except by boat.”
    “I am afraid it will be almost impossible to trace them,” returned Major Dallas. “Probably we have seen the mysterious High Priest himself, and at any rate I have no doubt but that Professor Campbell will be taken to the High Priest’s secret and undiscovered dwelling — which, as we have learned, is in Blaan.”
    James suddenly swore.
    “What about Miss Campbell?” he exclaimed.
    He strode off quickly, back towards the dark bulk of the house, the others following closely behind him. They were met on the front-door steps by Eileen, who was accompanied by the Rev. Duncan Nicholson, the Fiscal and Dr. Black.
    “They got away!”
    James spoke dully, but with relief that Eileen was still with them. Inspector McMillan hurried to the telephone, which stood upon a small shelf in the hallway.
    James saw that Eileen leaned against the Rev. Duncan Nicholson for support. The latter had put his arm round her slim body, and his ruddy face, though paler than usual, was tender in his solicitude.
    She did not weep, but her eyes were bright with tears.
    “Poor Daddy!” she murmured at last in a low voice. “He was expecting this. He told me that before next Wednesday he might be taken away. But we did not think it would happen so soon.”
    “You know about the cult?” asked James rather bluntly. He hated that tender look on the face of the young minister.
    “I do,” answered Eileen. “I was