"I know you don't believe me," Hawkie smiled mockingly. "After all, it is incredible. But those events happened, believe it happened to someone else if you want, I really don't care. The important thing is that it happened, Satanism and attempted human sacrifice in a remote corner of Nottinghamshire, only forty years ago. Check with the local cops if you like."
"You've got no reason to lie." Ms. Madison nodded. "Does anyone know what happened to Lord St. Martyn?"
"Not at all," Hawkie shook her head. "Some people said he was consumed in a mystic fire that burned on the altar, others that he was dragged down to hell, like damned Faust. But I think there was a secret passage in the chapel, leading through into a hidden crypt, and he used this to escape when it became obvious that his plans had gone awry. I think he used hidden assets, the results of his evil activities, to live a secret life, that the accidents at this place which caused it to be abandoned were not accidents at all."
"You don't mean they were somehow supernatural?" Ms. Madison raised one eyebrow.
"Perhaps," Hawkie smiled enigmatically. "Or maybe they were the actions of other members of the Satanist circle that infests this place. "I suspected that several prominent men in the town of Greyminster were involved, but they were absent at the time of the ceremony. Maybe this section stands over the hidden crypt, where the relics of the evil remain, relics that will reveal hidden things. But enough, we have to go to Greyminster."
As Ms. Madison followed Sparrowhawk from the remains of the house, she felt that she knew why the Green man had once been in love with her. She was as awkward as he was.
As they got back into the car, Ms. Madison took a last look at the gaunt ruins, licking up against the horizon like the chimneys of an old colliery. Or broken gravestones.
She shuddered at the thought.