Secret of the Underground Room (11 page)

 

Humphrey asked his friends if they wanted to stay in England and travel for a while. But everyone agreed that some other time might be best—after the experience they had had, they were anxious to get back home as soon as possible. However, Humphrey insisted that they spend a night at his house in Bristol before traveling to London to catch a plane. Besides, he said, it would take a little time to make travel arrangements. In the end, Humphrey didn't have to do any arm twisting. Everyone was delighted with a day to rest before their journey, and the professor enjoyed having a little more time to chat with his long-lost brother. So they packed their bags, paid their bills, and climbed into Humphrey's Bentley and roared off down the winding back roads that led to Bristol.

That evening Humphrey took his friends to Harvey's, an expensive and very nice restaurant in the downtown part of Bristol. Then, after a twilight walk across the Clifton Bridge, everyone settled down in Humphrey's house for a long, quiet evening. The three men gathered before the fireplace in Humphrey's living room, sipped sherry, and smoked some of Humphrey's excellent cigars. Johnny and Fergie played pool and pinball until they were sleepy and then dragged themselves off to bed. Quiet descended on the house, and Johnny stretched out in the roomy bed he had slept in just a few days before. The sheets smelled faintly musty, and the electric fire with its flickering red light still seemed homey and reassuring. Johnny sighed contentedly and rolled over to face the wall. For some reason, however, he couldn't go to sleep. He was beginning to get tense again, and he could hear his heart beating fast. He stared at the wavering red light that hovered on the wall.
Creak, creak.
Someone was walking along the hall outside his room. Surely it was Humphrey or one of the other two men. But then why did Johnny feel panic rising inside him? The creaking sounds died away, and then they came back. They halted outside Johnny's door. A knocking sound began... faintly. Johnny thought of his silver crucifix, but suddenly he realized that it was lying on the floor of the stone chamber where the De Marisco knights were entombed.

Knock, knock.
Johnny forced himself to sit up and swing his legs out of bed. Probably his fears were foolish—he was having after-effects of the hideous experience he had gone through out on Lundy. Quickly Johnny got up and padded barefoot to the door. Gripping the large bronze knob, he pulled the door inward. There in the lighted hallway stood the ghostly figure of Masterman. He was bodiless now, and his shape shimmered and hovered in the air. But his lips were curled into an inhuman grin, and his eyes burned with the feverish glow of madness.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

Johnny stood dead still, watching the evil, nightmarish face of the creature who stood before him. His lower jaw trembled and he wanted to scream, but he found that he couldn't. He wanted to close his eyes and faint, but he couldn't do that either. Masterman's lips did not move, but Johnny heard an angry, sneering voice that echoed inside his brain:

"Good evening, young man! Are you prepared to receive visitors? No? Then you must come out and join me. You may not enjoy the darkness I am sending you to, where every hour will seem like a year of sleepless pain, but my poor fellow knights must be avenged somehow. Come along. I will not take no for an answer!"

With that, Masterman motioned for Johnny to step forward, and Johnny found that he had to obey. Stumbling stiffly out into the hall like a robot, he began to follow the beckoning, eerie shape.

Suddenly a door slammed. Father Higgins stood in the hall, glowering angrily, the holy-water bottle in his hand. With a quick twist he unscrewed the cap and flung the liquid into Masterman's face. An inhuman howl arose as the creature writhed and twisted. His face turned to a melting horror and his body sagged and ran like water. In a few seconds there was nothing there at all except a faint scorch mark on the hall rug.

Johnny rushed to Father Higgins and threw his arms around him. Humphrey and Fergie and Professor Childermass came rushing into the hall in their pajamas. They looked frightened and wild-eyed.

"What in the name of heaven is going on?" raved the professor as he stuck his glasses crookedly onto his nose. Johnny turned his tear-streaked face toward the professor, and in a flash the old man guessed. "Masterman!" he roared. "He's come back!"

Father Higgins nodded solemnly. "At least he isn't using my body this time," he growled. "But poor John here almost got dragged away to... to God knows where." Father Higgins turned to Humphrey. "See here now!" he said. "Roderick tells me that you know something about magic. Can you figure out how that fiend managed to return?"

Humphrey shook his head. "Offhand, I couldn't say," he replied. "Unless... unless... " Suddenly he turned to Johnny. "Would you let me examine the clothes you were wearing the day you were in the underground room?" he asked excitedly.

Johnny was startled, and he couldn't imagine what Humphrey was driving at. But he led him into his room. Except for underwear and socks, the clothes he had been wearing at bedtime were the ones he had worn in the tomb chamber: a red plaid shirt and brown corduroy pants. They lay draped over the chair next to the bed. Carefully Humphrey examined the shirt. He peered into the pocket and put his hand inside the cuffs. Sighing, he put the shirt aside and went to work on the pants. Meanwhile, Father Higgins, Fergie, and the professor crowded into the room and stood watching curiously.

"What in blazes do you expect to find?" snapped the professor.

"Just be patient, brother," muttered Humphrey as he began running his forefinger inside one of Johnny's pant cuffs. "If I'm right, then... Hah!" With that, Humphrey reached into the cuff and pulled something out. He turned to the others with his palm open before him. On it lay a tiny golden fish.

"One of those!" gasped the professor. "I don't believe it! It must have landed in Johnny's cuff when Higgy broke one of the pieces of glass!"

Humphrey nodded. "I expect that that is what happened. I remember now that you told me the piece of glass Father Higgins found had little golden fish embedded in it," he said.

"What do we do with it?" asked Johnny. He was afraid that this would turn out to be one of those awful cursed objects that couldn't be gotten rid of.

Humphrey smiled in a secretive way. "Let us all go downstairs to my basement laboratory while I unmagic this widget."

Since he dabbled in alchemy and sorcery, Humphrey had a basement workshop that looked as if it belonged to a mad scientist. Bubbling retorts, racks of test tubes, spiraling glass tubes, and liquids of various colors dripping into beakers were everywhere. And on one marble-topped table was a small metal smelting furnace. The fire inside had been banked, but it was not out, and as the others stood watching, Humphrey used a pair of bellows to get the coals glowing. When the fire was going again, Humphrey picked up a pair of tweezers and used it to drop the tiny fish into the hole in the top of the furnace. Then he put the iron lid on the hole and stood humming quietly. Gold melts at a fairly low temperature, so he didn't have long to wait. Finally he opened up the furnace again and peeked inside.

"Ah!" he said. "Perfect!" And he reached in carefully with a long-handled pair of tongs to pull out a shapeless blob of yellow metal. Smiling, Humphrey laid the blob on the marble to let it cool.

"There!" he said. "If you change an amulet's shape, the magic force runs out of it—at least that is what the great experts say. To be doubly sure, we'll take this thing down to the bridge, put it in a matchbox, and pitch it into the river."

"I hope this really will be the end," sighed the professor. "My heart isn't quite as strong as it used to be."

"Neither is mine," added Johnny, shuddering slightly.

 

The professor, Father Higgins, and the two boys were a bit sad about leaving friendly old Humphrey and his marvelous eccentric home. But they really were anxious to get back to Duston Heights, so the next day they made travel arrangements. The professor reserved four seats on a flight leaving London at four P.M. the following day. At first everyone worried about Father Higgins's passport, but it was found securely buttoned into an inner pocket of his clerical jacket. Apparently Masterman had made Father Higgins look like Father Higgins again in order to get past the passport officials.

Sadly on the following morning, the travelers said good-bye to Humphrey on the platform of Bristol Temple Meads railway station. The trip to London was fast, and from Paddington station they took a cab to the airport for the long journey home. The professor's car was waiting for him at the Boston airport, and they all threw themselves and their luggage wearily into the old maroon Pontiac for the final ride home. It was about dawn when they rolled into Duston Heights, and though he was sleepy, Johnny thought he had never seen any town that looked so beautiful. It was too late to wake up the Dixons or the Fergusons, so Johnny and Fergie stayed what remained of the night at the professor's house. Father Higgins stayed too, because he was exhausted and didn't want the professor to drive him to Rocks Village that night.

A week passed, and Johnny got little pieces of information. Father Higgins returned to his parish, and hardly anyone accepted the story that he had suffered an attack of amnesia brought on by the flare-up of an old head wound he had gotten during World War Two. The professor saw a small item in the London
Times
that said that the ashes of Mrs. Mary Higgins had been recovered and reburied under the floor of St. John's church in Glastonbury. Another item in the same paper said that the disappearance of Dr. Rufus Masterman from his hotel room in Ilfracombe remained unsolved, but the police were still making inquiries. Finally, at the end of the summer, the best news of all arrived: Father Higgins was going to be transferred back to his old parish of St. Michael's in Duston Heights. The bishop had received a lot of complaint letters from members of the Rocks Village parish. When Father Higgins had disappeared and then returned claiming amnesia, many people felt that it proved he was totally out of his mind. So back he went to St. Michael's. Needless to say, the Dixons were overjoyed to get their old pastor back, and of course Johnny, Fergie, and the professor were happy too. So at last things seemed to be getting back to normal.

When Father Higgins returned to St. Michael's after Labor Day, the professor threw a backyard barbecue to celebrate. He cooked hamburgers and hot dogs on the backyard grill, and laid in a big supply of lemonade, iced tea, and soft drinks. Chinese lanterns were rigged up on clotheslines that were strung through the trees in the yard, and of course the professor wore his tasteless apron with witty sayings and his puffy white chef's hat. The professor's good friend Dr. Charles Coote came down from Durham, New Hampshire, for the fest. He was a tall, gawky man with a bumpy ridged nose and big goggly glasses who taught at the University of New Hampshire, and he knew a lot about magic and the occult. Johnny's grandparents came to the party too.

Everyone had a glorious time. The boys wolfed hot dogs and hamburgers, and Grampa Dixon beat the professor at horseshoes. Fergie then beat both of them. The Dixons went home early as usual, and the others inspected the bedraggled, weedy wreckage of the professor's flower garden. He never had the time or energy to get it in shape, and it looked thoroughly dreadful. It was a lovely cool evening, and a gentle breeze rocked the Chinese lanterns. Fireflies winked among the tall weeds, and a few crickets could still be heard in the grass. For a long time no one said anything. Father Higgins swirled the brandy in his glass and looked thoughtful. Finally he spoke up.

"Dr. Coote," he asked slowly, "why do you think Masterman picked on me? Is it because I'm superstitious and believe in ghosts?"

Dr. Coote laughed. "My dear Father Higgins," he said, "I don't think your beliefs had anything to do with what happened to you. To tell you the truth, you just were
susceptible.
You really wanted to talk to your dead mother and iron things out, and the spirit of Masterman used that to his own advantage. Remember one of the notes that you found in your house?
You may be wrong about everything.
Some kindly power was trying to warn you."

Father Higgins made grumbly noises and sipped his brandy. "All right then," he said, poking a hairy finger at Dr. Coote. "Answer this one for me: How did that dratted hunk of glass get into my church? Who put it there?"

Dr. Coote scratched his head. "Hard to say. Your church is over two hundred years old, and I've heard stories that there was a very rich man who lived in Rocks Village in the late 1700's who made trips to Europe and brought back ancient objects. He probably discovered that the glass fragment had evil powers. Maybe he put it in the church to hold its evil in check. One thing I can say for sure: Masterman never put the glass in the church. He was a disembodied ghost who haunted the glass, and he couldn't have turned a doorknob with his shadowy hands. That was why he needed your help, Father. He needed a real human body with real hands, so that he could shove those two pieces of glass together and complete the circle."

Fergie was standing nearby, sipping soda pop. "Hey, Dr. Coote," he said suddenly, "what do you think those creepy knights would've done if they had gotten loose?"

Dr. Coote frowned. "I hate to think what those wretches would have done," he said, staring off at the night sky. "I've heard tales of men who could turn themselves into superhuman beings by doing unspeakable things—like eating the hearts of other humans. Would you like it if someone could get inside your head and listen in on your thoughts? Or make you imagine that you were somebody else? Let's just say that those knights could have made life very difficult for a lot of people—maybe for everybody on earth."

It was getting late, and everyone was feeling tired. The professor yawned, flapping his hand in front of his mouth. It was contagious. Father Higgins yawned, and so did Dr. Coote. Soon everyone was walking slowly back toward the lighted house. Johnny felt exhausted, but he still had one more question rattling around in his head.