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n where such as you or I； Sabat； 'would have moved more cautiously。 All the same； I did not think it was necessary for him to have died for his foolishness。'
'I did not know who he was。' Sabat held the gaze of those cold blue eyes unwaveringly。 'This may sound a weak excuse； Pieter； but I have been ill and 。。'
'Pneumonia；' the other interrupted。 'I have checked you out。 But forgive me； I interrupt。'
'Pneumonia it was；' Sabat replied。 'My real reason for ing to the continent is to recuperate。 But then I met this girl who spun me this story about。。。 '
'The convent at Aix…en…Provence；' Daunay laughed harshly。 'Madeleine Gaufridi； or Madeleine de Demandolx de la Palud。 Or； to give her her real name Marie Boulle。 Certainly part of what she told you was true。 She introduced lesbianism to the convent to undermine the authority of the Mother Superior and to destroy the faith of the young nuns。 She was rapidly spreading her own beliefs and had she not been forced to fiee from there I am certain that the ultimate depravity
would have ensued。 She is no ordinary girl； Sabat； take it from me。 If Satan ever had a daughter that girl is his own offspring。'
'It figures。' Sabat began refilling his meerschaum； felt the sudden craving for tobacco after weeks of abstinence growing stronger。 'I killed the one known as Etoine because I assumed him to be some devilish enemy of the girl。 Take it from me； Pieter； in a mountain forest at night one does not trifle with an attacker。'
'True。 But how did the girl manage to dupe you？'
'My awareness and intuitions were dulled by my illness；' Sabat went on； 'and by the time I realised what was going on I decided I'd stick along and take the opportunity to sort this cult out。 Which is exactly what I am doing now and two of us working together will make that task very much easier。'
'You know where they are hiding out？' A wolfish eagerness showed on Daunay's features。
'Yes。 And they have the body of Louis Nevillon there。'
'Mon Dieu！' Pieter Daunay smacked his hands together。 'I guessed it； I guessed it。 And most surely they will be feasting on that corpse three nights from now！'
'That is exactly what they plan to do。' Sabat's admiration for the other's astuteness snowed in his smile。 'But tell me； Pieter； are things as serious as I think they are？'
'Worse。' The Frenchman's voice dropped to a whisper； glancing furtively about him to ensure that no tourist was within earshot。 A line of cannibalism that goes back to the days ofSilvain Nevillon； reincarnation brought about by the eating of the dead so that they lived again。'
'One up on the Cochon Gris！' Sabat's lips were a thin bloodless line。 'I am learning all the time。'
'You know where they are hiding。 Tell me！'
'No；' Sabat shook his head slowly。 'I have a score to settle； Pieter； believe me。 You are the one man in the world whom I would trust to acpany me back there tonight。'
'I see。' There was a flicker of suspicion for a second in Daunay's piercing eyes。 'I remember your brother Quentin； Sabat！'
Sabat felt his stomach constricting； the blood draining from his face； rasping laughter somewhere inside him。 'I killed him。 He was as evil as Nevillon。'
'Quite so。 I； too； was on his trail。 I found the body in that grave in the mountains。 There was evidence of necromantic rites in the clearing； some peasant corpses that had been interred in unconsecrated ground and then exhumed by your brother。 Quentin's body was unrecognisable； his head blown apart by revolver bullets。 I wasn't sure which of the Sabats it was。 It might have been you； my friend； murdered by your brother Quentin still free。 You killed him； however； and did the world a favour。 But； Sabat； do you realise exactly what your devilish brother was doing with those bodies？'
'Attempting to raise the dead in much the same way that in Haiti the bocors and houngans have zombies to trade as cheap labour。'
'No； my friend； nothing quite so simple。 Quentin Sabat was an associate of Louis Nevillon。 Together they were addicted to human meat and had already conspired to spread cannibalism throughout the world。 Your brother had buried those peasants whom he had murdered in the same way that a hunter buries his venison； in order to bring out the flavour in the flesh。 Those graves were his larderr
Sabat almost threw up； clutching at the seat with hands that trembled。 He knew that Daunay spoke the truth； the detective had no reason to lie。 Suddenly it all fitted together； a jigsaw that had been scattered for years and was now being slotted into place。 Quentin had been a friend of Louis Nevillon's； who in turn had Marie Boulle as his mistress。 A nest of cannibals。 Now Quentin lived again in the body of Sabat； who had also feasted on human flesh。 He was as bad as the others。 But once you kill Pieter Daunay your secret will be safe！
'I will take you to their hideout tonight。' Sabat spoke slowly； tried to harness his shocked and reeling senses。
'Good；' Daunay smiled。 'By the way； a mongol child was kidnapped in Zurich yesterday afternoon。 I have reason to believe that the cult was responsible for this。 If I am correct then the boy is already dead。'
'They ate him！' Not just a statement； a confession。
'Andrew！' Accusing eyes that would detect the slightest lie。
'Myself； too。 I had no choice； Pieter； believe me。'
'I believe you。'
'This man Andre Schmid；' Sabat said。 'A hippy mune leader but so powerful。 Almost as powerful as。。。 as Louis Nevillon。'
'Not quite； but he will be。' The Witchfinder's eyes narrowed； his tanned plexion seemed to pale。 'But if the Nevillon legend is true； then of those who devour his flesh one of them will bee the Beast of France。 Apart from the sheer revulsion of it I； for one； would not care to be partaking of that unholy banquet on Walpurgisnacht。 As for Schmid。。。 well； he also has much to answer for。 A left…wing terrorist； he has diversified from car…bombs and such things to an alliance with the dark powers and they appear to have accepted him as a disciple。 Pray God； Sabat； that we shall be in time to prevent this Walpurgisnacht feast； for if it es about the ultimate in evil will result； a coalition of malevolence in hell and on earth。 A n unstoppable power will be unleashed on the world and cannibalism will spread with the rapidity of a contagious plague？
Sabat was waiting on the Schweizeshof beside Lake Lucerne as the sinking evening sun turned the waters a rich golden colour。 So peaceful； it was impossible to believe that the ing night held such perils。 He sauntered casually； watching every blue Peugeot that came along。 Every other car on the road tonight seemed to be a Peugeot。 Eventually one of them would draw into the kerb and Pieter Daunay would be behind the wheel。
And the Witchfinder must be killed！ Not just because Andre Schmid and Madeleine Gaufridi （Sabat still preferred to think of her by her first name； remember their meeting up on the Jungfrau when she