ENTRY 28 -- The Black Horseman

North America » Canada » Quebec » Montréal
March 23rd 1987

Published: January 18th 2006

An Excerpt from the Travel Journal of Nigel Fox (c. 1940)

Entry 28 -- The Black Horseman

She feels herself falling away . . . . Even before the reel ended, I had to excuse myself. . .

The Shock

"We are extremely sorry to have had to display this film to you Mister Fox. The men we arrested had several of these films, mostly taken of the torture and experimentation on the Hebrew people. This one, however, had your name mentioned in it. Do you recognise the woman who was savaged in this film?"

"Certainly," I answered, automatically, in a dazed fashion. "The woman was Missus Norah LaPierre."

"Would you kindly assist us in our investigation?"

"Of course," I responded, still reeling from the shock.

They wanted me to go into detail. After being given several minutes to wash up and calm myself, I told my story from the beginning. I relayed everything to them as a recording device hummed next to me.

They were particularly interested in what I knew about the Armanen. As I was describing the package I had received, an odd thing happened. I had a vision. In the looking glass before me I suddenly saw Norah's murderers, dressed in full uniform watching me. I stopped talking. The vision vanished immediately.

Then it came to me that this may not have been a vision at all. I noticed that the mirror had not returned to a normal state, and was darker in colour than a regular one. I tensed as my mind raced through the possibilities. If this was a modern spy device, then these were not real police, but . . .

"Fools!" a familiar voice screamed out. "You cannot open the light in the observation room. Idiots!"

I remained silent. The man who had been in charge of the questioning stepped closer to me, menacingly. "You have something that belongs to us. Where have you placed it?"

I lost control and lunged towards the filthy, demonic creature. His spectacles fell to the floor as one of my fingers caught his eye. He froze in disbelief as I plunged my finger into it deeply, with no hesitation. Next, I felt a hard blow on the back of my head, then, nothing.

Another Predicament

As I regained my senses, I slowly let my eyes run round the room to which I had been taken. It was completely square with white walls, and totally empty. There was no chair, no table, no bed, and no window: just a door and an uncovered globe hanging from the centre of the ceiling.

The glare from the white walls made my eyes and head ache. My hands had been cuffed behind my back, so I lay on my side, awkwardly. Using my legs, I managed to push myself into a sitting position against one wall. I sat for a very long time pondering the death of Norah and what, in all probability, awaited me.

As I sat thinking, I became aware of another predicament. I was in dreadful need of a toilet. Indeed, because of my manacles, I could not even remove my trousers...

In the middle of my recitation of the 23rd psalm, I heard the clicking sound of a key turning in the lock, then the metallic crack of a bolt being shot open. In my mind I focused on the promise contained in our Lord's great commission that he would be with us always, to the end of the age.

As the door drew slowly open I became confused, then rejoiced at the miracle I was witnessing. These men were not my captors, but my rescuers.

The Artefact was Gone

Before we left I was given the opportunity to bathe and rest, while clean clothes were procured for me. I was then told that I was being taken to RCMP headquarters. When we arrived, my first request was for a telephone listing, to ensure that the address of the 'headquarters' actually correlated to the address on the building I had just entered.

I was escorted to the office of Mister George Parent, a senior man in the Canadian Security Service. At my question regarding the fate of my kidnappers, he shook his head and looked rather disturbed. "They were very professional," he told me in a grave voice. "When we burst in upon them they bit into capsules; all were dead before we knew what was happening."

He cleared his throat and began to explain that the Kerr residence had been under surveillance by both the Mounties and the Germans. I was surprised to discover he had compiled a file on me. First taking some time to relate to me the details of my rescue, he then politely requested to hear my story. Once again I told the long tale, beginning with my return to East Avalon. Mister Parent seemed particularly fascinated with the existence of the chalice.

"I never told them where it was," I assured him.

"Where is it now?"

"Hidden in my room on Lorne Avenue."

When we arrived at the house we were confronted with an ugly truth. My room was in a complete shambles and the artefact was gone. May stood in the doorway looking very sheepish. "Oh Father, I am so sorry. I let them in because they said they were from the police and that they had a court order to conduct a search." Mister Parent also looked mildly remorseful. He took full responsibility, explaining that after I was safely in custody and my captors dead, he had called off the Lorne Avenue surveillance.

Over the next few weeks I continued to brief the RCMP. I was told that I was more than likely out of danger, as the Ahnenerbe now had what they had come for. Since they had paid a very heavy price for the object, it was surmised that no more men would be risked in order to kill me. Nevertheless, I was provided with complete police protection for an indefinite period. This I very much appreciated for I was beginning to believe that the Armanen were everywhere, knew everything, having almost unlimited powers of espial!

Lightning War

The disappearance of the stone cup coincided with the end of the so-called Phoney War. Germany now launched its 'Lightning War' and nation after nation fell in rapid succession. The French considered themselves well protected with the Maginot line of defence. In the attack of their country the armies of the Verführer simply went around the line -- crushing the French and British forces. As France fell His Majesty's armies took flight.

It was heart breaking to see the frenzied retreat across the English Channel. Our boys would, quite literally, board anything that would float in order to flee the German Wehrmacht. In many cases they actually left their weapons behind. The British Prime Minister tried to put a good face on the situation, however I learned from Mister Parent that there were plans in the works for His Majesty's government to flee to Canada. Modern civilisation was collapsing about us!