Chapter 3
It was late afternoon when the Bentley pulled onto a gravel circle in front of a building with a rambling lawn. Rita guessed the library must have dated back to the eighteenth century. Several other cars were parked there as well, and students were coming and going. Vines crawled up the brick exterior of the building, which only had a few windows at ground level. A sinister-looking gardener was pruning the growth with a hand-held sickle.
"What are all these people doing?" Rita wore a puzzled expression.
There was a loud ratcheting noise as Steed set the parking brake.
"It's a meeting of the Literary Society Of Wootton Bassett," he answered. "The 'Bassett Bookhounds'."
"The Bassett Bookhounds?" Rita asked incredulously. "Wait, would that be the 'elite literary society' you were hoping to infiltrate?"
"The very same."
"Why did you bring me?" she asked in a panicked voice. "I'm not supposed to be here! I thought I was going to coach you!"
"Indeed you shall. When you think I need help," Steed moved his head close to hers, and then whispered delicately, "you just whisper it into my ear, like this." His breath felt soothingly warm against her, and she composed herself again.
"But I'm not even dressed for socializing."
"You look stunning. Especially the hair." He playfully touched the thick red braid running down her back. "Stay close," Steed added in a low voice, guiding her from the car with her arm linked in his.
"You've done it to me again!" Rita whispered fiercely. "This is what Mrs. Gale warned me about!"
They entered through a weathered set of wooden doors. Steed leaned his head close to Rita's, and said in a low voice, "Over there. The 'Recommendation Of The Week'." Rita followed his gaze to an easel sitting by the main desk.
—-
LITERARY SOCIETY OF WOOTTON BASSETT
Recommendation Of The Week
Dr. Jonathan E. Posthlewaite
Druidic Rites of the Salisbury Gorset
Chapter 3
"Sacrificial Animals"
—-
"So Blackpoole was a member of the Bassett Bookhounds!" Rita whispered.
"Or maybe he was one of the sacrificial animals," Steed added grimly. "Either way, it's the link we were looking for."
Rita glanced about nervously, perhaps aware for the first time that they might be walking into a viper's nest. Steed was already striding confidently toward the front desk. Her boots echoed on the parquet floor as she quickly followed along behind him.
"Hello!" Steed greeted a stern-looking librarian seated there. "Is this the Literary Society of Wootton Bassett?" he asked in his best Etonian accent.
"They're meeting tonight," the librarian grumbled, "but they're not accepting new members at this time."
"Oh dear," Steed remarked, distress apparent in his voice. "My secretary and I must have been misinformed."
Rita's eyes flashed at the word 'secretary'.
"A good friend of mine, Dr. Eldemier—an Oxford Fellow—mentioned the LSWB to me last week," Steed continued glibly. "He said I should pop around for the discussion of the chapter from Druidic Rites."
"I could inform Mr. Penbrough, the organizer. Perhaps he could explain the situation to you personally," the librarian responded.
"That would be most kind of you." Steed seemed honestly appreciative. "We'll just tarry about in the stacks, soak up some of the atmosphere."
The main concourse of the library was an eclectic mix of timbers, steel rods, and latter-day brick additions. A gallery of windows near the ceiling cast beams of sunlight into the main area, but the spaces between the bookshelves were hidden in bleak shadows. In some of the darker corners, illumination was provided by bare light bulbs, probably added early in the century when electricity became available.
Rita shuddered a bit at the gloomy appearance of the architecture. Steed sensed her unease, and inclined his head towards hers.
"Miss Fox, tell me something about Druids that I wouldn't already know," he said under his breath.
Rita moved her head close to Steed's. She spoke soft and low, her lips tickling his ear like a lover's kiss.
"The Druids seldom committed their teachings to writing, so we can only guess much of the history, but they were most often described as mediators between Celtic Gods and the people. Caesar's Gallic Wars is the first source to mention druids as an elite and secret society in pre-Roman England. Cathbad, chief Druid of Ulster, is one of the earliest literary references."
Rita glanced around to make sure that no one else was listening, and continued.
"Of course, in the eighteenth century, Druidism was revived by Aubrey, Toland, Stukely, and perhaps even Blake. The Ancient Order of Druids was founded in 1781. There is an important Druidic megalith here in Wiltshire, the Avebury henge. It's the largest in Europe. And I needn't tell you that Stonehenge is the principal Druidic megalith."
"Ah, but you just did, my dear." Steed patted her hand thankfully.
A well-groomed man approached them. He had dark hair and a Van Dyke beard, almost diabolic in appearance. He ignored Rita and extended a hand to Steed.
"I'm Mr. Penbrough, organizer of the LSWB. I understand you were interested in our recommendation, Mr.—?"
"Steed, John Steed. I've always had an interest in Druidic history. I claim some lineage from Cathbad myself."
"Indeed, Mr. Steed." Penbrough seemed pleased. "Have you been out to Avebury?"
"Of course," Steed lied snootily. "The largest henge I've ever seen."
"What are your impressions of it?"
"'Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?'" Steed quoted, with a dramatic flourish of his hand.
Rita's eyes went wide, first with anxiety, then with amazement.
"Well said, Mr. Steed!" Penbrough responded. "Thel's Motto from Blake. I'm happy to meet someone who concurs with Blake's history as an Archdruid."
"I've never had any doubts."
"Why don't you and your secretary step into our main reading room here?"
"Come, Miss Fox," Steed ordered imperiously, giving her a wink.
Penbrough turned towards an archway at the far end of the library. Steed followed, with Rita only two steps behind.
"Secretary!" she protested in a harsh whisper.
Still, Rita had to admit she was impressed with the smooth way Steed had taken the handful of facts she had given him and had woven them into a pattern of complete believability. And the use of the obscure Blake quote was inspired. Steed must have been exaggerating his ignorance of literature.
"It's pleasing to meet one so familiar with our Recommendation of the Week," Penbrough continued. "Perhaps you would like to recommend a book sometime, Mr. Steed."
"Caesar's Gallic Wars is my favorite history source on the Roman invasion," Steed responded nonchalantly.
"Capital, Mr. Steed! And one of the best sources for early Druidic history, as well. You're just the type of discerning reader we've been looking for. Perhaps there'll be a place for you in the Society eventually."
Steed smiled broadly. Rita exhaled through her nose quickly in what may have been a snort.
"This is our main reading room," Penbrough said, gesturing grandly. "It is here that our members read the greatest literature of the past two centuries, searching for reading that is worthy of our highest recommendation. While we usually don't allow non-members into this private area, I'm sure no one would object if you picked up a volume and drank it in, so to speak."
"My secretary as well?" Steed asked politely.
"Of course," Penbrough answered with mock sincerity, "as long as she doesn't get in the way."
Steed noticed with admiration that Miss Fox merely smiled curtly. Penbrough left them, and they entered the room where the Bassett Bookhounds were reading. Neither was prepared for the sight that greeted them.
None of the readers seemed to be spending more than a few seconds on a page before rapidly flipping to the next. Many of them were regularly jotting a quick scribble or two on nearby pads. The concentration on their faces was intense. The sound of turning pages was a constant scratching.
Rita had never seen anyone read at that speed, let alone an entire room of people. She glanced over at Steed with an expression of disbelief on her face.
"Reader's envy?" Steed grinned.
"It's not possible!" Rita exclaimed.
"What do you know about speed reading?" Steed asked in a low voice.
"My specialty is locating information, not seeing how quickly I can digest it."
"The 'Hounds' seem to have voracious appetites."
"What do we do now?"
"I think we've found the leads we were looking for. Perhaps we should make a quiet exit before Penbrough returns and figures out I'm not a member of the Ancient Order," Steed suggested.
"Discretion can be the better part of valor," Rita agreed nervously.
Steed and Rita casually strolled back up the main concourse, nodding amiably to the librarian at the desk as they exited through the wooden doors.
After the doors closed behind them, Penbrough stepped out from behind a bookcase and turned to the librarian.
"If they show up here again," he remarked coolly, "kill them."
-oOo-
Steed held the door open for Rita as she mounted the passenger side of the Bentley. In spite of her earlier protests, she seemed to be developing a fondness for the old car. Steed pulled out of the gravel circle, and soon they were on the M4 heading back to London.
"I think the Bookhounds may be less innocent than they appear," Steed announced.
"They don't look all that innocent to me," Rita replied.
"Exactly. Do you have a copy of Druidic Rites of the Salisbury Gorset?"
"I could obtain one tomorrow through the Ministry Library, I suppose," she offered.
"I couldn't get Blackpoole's copy," he remarked thoughtfully. "But I have a feeling that any copy would do."
"What do you want me to do with it?"
"Read Chapter 3. See if you can spot anything that might look suggestive."
"What are you going to do?"
"Learn a little more about reading quickly," Steed smiled.
By the time they made it back to London, Rita was snoozing in the passenger seat, her favorite blanket thrown over her. Steed debated whether or not to wake her up; then he came to the conclusion that after the day's events, any conversation with her might be less than pleasant, and would be better put off until tomorrow. So he once again hoisted her into his arms, and had soon tucked her into the large four-poster in her flat. He pulled the carnation from his lapel and set it next to the one he had left previously, now on the nightstand. She was amassing quite a collection.
-oOo-
The next morning, Steed was standing at the top of some stairs leading down into a brick schoolroom situated below street level. He could see several people sitting at desks, flipping pages every few seconds or so. He had come to the right place. A bell tied to the front door jangled lightly as he entered. No one in the classroom looked up.
"Hello. My name's John Steed." He directed his introduction to a rather jolly-looking man who had just walked into the antechamber from the classroom.
"I'm Professor Featherman." The little man adjusted his spectacles and began an excited sales pitch. "Just imagine, Mr. Steed. Wouldn't it be efficient to read War And Peace in a single afternoon? Or Great Expectations during a taxi ride?"
Steed smiled. "I'm interested in speed-reading."
"Oh, we don't call it that here, Mr. Steed," Featherman corrected him smoothly. He gestured to a large sign on the wall with words surrounding a cartoon eye. "We teach Speed Accelerated Visual-Verbal Interpretation."
"SAVVI?"
"Just so. Would you like to see our classroom, check out some of our students in action?"
Steed removed his bowler and gestured to Featherman. "Lead the way," he smiled.
Featherman cruised between the rows of desks, proudly patting his prize students on the back, and occasionally smacking the desktops of the others. All the while, he gestured from side to side with a wooden pointer like a man conducting a symphony. Steed followed in his wake.
"Words left, words right," Featherman sang musically, "every word within your sight." Steed noticed that the motion of the pointer from left to right was in rhythm with his melody.
"You see, it's all in the peripheral vision, Mr. Steed," Featherman turned around and whispered, as if discussing a conspiracy.
"Eyes on the side of one's head?" Steed asked playfully.
"Just so. Strong eye focus abilities are the key," Featherman continued seriously. He gestured up towards the street level. "I sometimes stare out this window here, focusing complete attention on every pair of legs that goes by."
"I've often done the same thing myself," Steed agreed innocently, nodding his head.
"Visual speed and agility, Mr. Steed. In a fraction of a second, I can discern the exact knot used in the shoe lacing, the weave pattern of an argyle sock, or count the runs in a lady's nylons."
"I'd hate to be your cobbler."
"Just so. Expanding the range and accuracy of your vision allows you to see the entire page at once, rather than moving your eyes across word by word," Featherman explained.
"And this allows one to read quickly?"
"Just so. Here's a training book." Featherman picked up a leather-bound volume from a nearby table, flipped it open, and showed it to Steed. The center of the page was blank, with words alternating on the left and right margins, so that each page contained only a sentence or two. "When you can look down the center of the page, and gain the ability to read the words on either side without moving your eyes, then you're on your way to a faster reading experience," he explained.
Steed measured the progress of the nearest student, an attractive brunette. "That looks like about two pages a minute. Is she an advanced student?"
"Just so. But a man of your obvious abilities would probably take only a week or two to achieve such results."
Steed nodded at the blatant flattery. "I shall probably call on you later, Professor Featherman. I have a young red-haired niece who may be able to benefit from some instruction."
"Do you think she has the necessary discipline, Mr. Steed?" Featherman asked skeptically.
Steed smiled. "I'm working on her as much as I can."
-oOo-
Steed stopped by Rita's that evening. The red Austin Mini had found its way back from the Ministry to the front of her apartment, serving as a reminder of how he had hijacked her yesterday. He sprinted up the three steps and rang the bell. The door opened at once. She must have heard the Bentley as he approached.
"Mr. Steed," she greeted him formally.
"Miss Fox," Steed acknowledged graciously. He removed his bowler and flashed a brilliant smile. At times like this, his charm could be overwhelming. Sure enough, Rita hesitated for only a second, then stepped back and motioned him in.
"This is my apartment," she began.
"Yes, I'm quite familiar with it," Steed deadpanned, "particularly the bedroom."
Rita turned red with embarrassment. "Er—yes, well this time I'm awake to show you around. Have you made any progress on your investigation?"
Steed coolly noticed the use of the word 'your' rather than 'our'.
"I met a man with SAVVI," he said mysteriously.
"He was very clever?" Rita asked earnestly.
"Speed Accelerated Visual-Verbal Interpretation. SAVVI."
"Ah, speed-reading," Rita nodded. "Did you pick up on anything?"
"Other than a rigorous obsession with legs and feet, no. But judging from the speeds that Professor Featherman's students were achieving, it's hard to believe that the Bookhounds were actually reading when we saw them."
"You think the Bookhounds were faster than typical speed-readers?" she asked.
"I think so. No one could possibly understand what they're reading at that speed. Perhaps they were just scanning for the occurrence of a particular word."
"What should we do now?"
Steed looked deep into her brown eyes. "One of us will have to start reading with the Bookhounds to see what it all means."
Rita narrowed her eyes to slits. "By one of us, you mean me."
"I've barely read Dickens," Steed exaggerated smoothly. "Besides, I paved the way with Mr. Penbrough yesterday. I'll get you through the front door, into the reading room. You should be able to blend in without any problem. You can look over their shoulders, see what's going on," he suggested.
Rita's eyes turned to fire again.
"All right, Mr. Steed." Rita used his formal address again. "You tricked me into a day-trip to Wiltshire, when you told me you only needed some coaching. Now you want me to go undercover to help you with this investigation. What happened to me making the rules?"
Steed flashed her a dazzling smile. "From this point on, you're in complete control."
-oOo-
