{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_1188/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_1188","id":"gutenberg_1188","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1188","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Gothic Fiction","Gothic fiction","Horror","Horror tales"],"text":"Transcribed form the 1911 W. Foulsham & Co. Ltd. edition by David Price,\nemail ccx074@coventry.ac.uk\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM\n\n\nTo my friend Bertha Nicoll with affectionate esteem.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I--ADAM SALTON ARRIVES\n\n\nAdam Salton sauntered into the Empire Club, Sydney, and found awaiting\nhim a letter from his grand-uncle.  He had first heard from the old\ngentleman less than a year before, when Richard Salton had claimed\nkinship, stating that he had been unable to write earlier, as he had\nfound it very difficult to trace his grand-nephew's address.  Adam was\ndelighted and replied cordially; he had often heard his father speak of\nthe older branch of the family with whom his people had long lost touch.\nSome interesting correspondence had ensued.  Adam eagerly opened the\nletter which had only just arrived, and conveyed a cordial invitation to\nstop with his grand-uncle at Lesser Hill, for as long a time as he could\nspare.\n\n\"Indeed,\" Richard Salton went on, \"I am in hopes that you will make your\npermanent home here.  You see, my dear boy, you and I are all that remain\nof our race, and it is but fitting that you should succeed me when the\ntime comes.  In this year of grace, 1860, I am close on eighty years of\nage, and though we have been a long-lived race, the span of life cannot\nbe prolonged beyond reasonable bounds.  I am prepared to like you, and to\nmake your home with me as happy as you could wish.  So do come at once on\nreceipt of this, and find the welcome I am waiting to give you.  I send,\nin case such may make matters easy for you, a banker's draft for 200\npounds.  Come soon, so that we may both of us enjoy many happy days\ntogether.  If you are able to give me the pleasure of seeing you, send me\nas soon as you can a letter telling me when to expect you.  Then when you\narrive at Plymouth or Southampton or whatever port you are bound for,\nwait on board, and I will meet you at the earliest hour possible.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nOld Mr. Salton was delighted when Adam's reply arrived and sent a groom\nhot-foot to his crony, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, to inform him that his\ngrand-nephew was due at Southampton on the twelfth of June.\n\nMr. Salton gave instructions to have ready a carriage early on the\nimportant day, to start for Stafford, where he would catch the 11.40 a.m.\ntrain.  He would stay that night with his grand-nephew, either on the\nship, which would be a new experience for him, or, if his guest should\nprefer it, at a hotel.  In either case they would start in the early\nmorning for home.  He had given instructions to his bailiff to send the\npostillion carriage on to Southampton, to be ready for their journey\nhome, and to arrange for relays of his own horses to be sent on at once.\nHe intended that his grand-nephew, who had been all his life in\nAustralia, should see something of rural England on the drive.  He had\nplenty of young horses of his own breeding and breaking, and could depend\non a journey memorable to the young man.  The luggage would be sent on by\nrail to Stafford, where one of his carts would meet it.  Mr. Salton,\nduring the journey to Southampton, often wondered if his grand-nephew was\nas much excited as he was at the idea of meeting so near a relation for\nthe first time; and it was with an effort that he controlled himself.  The\nendless railway lines and switches round the Southampton Docks fired his\nanxiety afresh.\n\nAs the train drew up on the dockside, he was getting his hand traps\ntogether, when the carriage door was wrenched open and a young man jumped\nin.\n\n\"How are you, uncle?  I recognised you from the photo you sent me!  I\nwanted to meet you as soon as I could, but everything is so strange to me\nthat I didn't quite know what to do.  However, here I am.  I am glad to\nsee you, sir.  I have been dreaming of this happiness for thousands of\nmiles; now I find that the reality beats all the dreaming!\"  As he spoke\nthe old man and the young one were heartily wringing each other's hands.\n\nThe meeting so auspiciously begun proceeded well.  Adam, seeing that the\nold man was interested in the novelty of the ship, suggested that he\nshould stay the night on board, and that he would himself be ready to\nstart at any hour and go anywhere that the other suggested.  This\naffectionate willingness to fall in with his own plans quite won the old\nman's heart.  He warmly accepted the invitation, and at once they became\nnot only on terms of affectionate relationship, but almost like old\nfriends.  The heart of the old man, which had been empty for so long,\nfound a new delight.  The young man found, on landing in the old country,\na welcome and a surrounding in full harmony with all his dreams\nthroughout his wanderings and solitude, and the promise of a fresh and\nadventurous life.  It was not long before the old man accepted him to\nfull relationship by calling him by his Christian name.  After a long\ntalk on affairs of interest, they retired to the cabin, which the elder\nwas to share.  Richard Salton put his hands affectionately on the boy's\nshoulders--though Adam was in his twenty-seventh year, he was a boy, and\nalways would be, to his grand-uncle.\n\n\"I am so glad to find you as you are, my dear boy--just such a young man\nas I had always hoped for as a son, in the days when I still had such\nhopes.  However, that is all past.  But thank God there is a new life to\nbegin for both of us.  To you must be the larger part--but there is still\ntime for some of it to be shared in common.  I have waited till we should\nhave seen each other to enter upon the subject; for I thought it better\nnot to tie up your young life to my old one till we should have\nsufficient personal knowledge to justify such a venture.  Now I can, so\nfar as I am concerned, enter into it freely, since from the moment my\neyes rested on you I saw my son--as he shall be, God willing--if he\nchooses such a course himself.\"\n\n\"Indeed I do, sir--with all my heart!\"\n\n\"Thank you, Adam, for that.\"  The old, man's eyes filled and his voice\ntrembled.  Then, after a long silence between them, he went on: \"When I\nheard you were coming I made my will.  It was well that your interests\nshould be protected from that moment on.  Here is the deed--keep it,\nAdam.  All I have shall belong to you; and if love and good wishes, or\nthe memory of them, can make life sweeter, yours shall be a happy one.\nNow, my dear boy, let us turn in.  We start early in the morning and have\na long drive before us.  I hope you don't mind driving?  I was going to\nhave the old travelling carriage in which my grandfather, your\ngreat-grand-uncle, went to Court when William IV. was king.  It is all\nright--they built well in those days--and it has been kept in perfect\norder.  But I think I have done better: I have sent the carriage in which\nI travel myself.  The horses are of my own breeding, and relays of them\nshall take us all the way.  I hope you like horses?  They have long been\none of my greatest interests in life.\"\n\n\"I love them, sir, and I am happy to say I have many of my own.  My\nfather gave me a horse farm for myself when I was eighteen.  I devoted\nmyself to it, and it has gone on.  Before I came away, my steward gave me\na memorandum that we have in my own place more than a thousand, nearly\nall good.\"\n\n\"I am glad, my boy.  Another link between us.\"\n\n\"Just fancy what a delight it will be, sir, to see so much of England--and\nwith you!\"\n\n\"Thank you again, my boy.  I will tell you all about your future home and\nits surroundings as we go.  We shall travel in old-fashioned state, I\ntell you.  My grandfather always drove four-in-hand; and so shall we.\"\n\n\"Oh, thanks, sir, thanks.  May I take the ribbons sometimes?\"\n\n\"Whenever you choose, Adam.  The team is your own.  Every horse we use to-\nday is to be your own.\"\n\n\"You are too generous, uncle!\"\n\n\"Not at all.  Only an old man's selfish pleasure.  It is not every day\nthat an heir to the old home comes back.  And--oh, by the way . . . No,\nwe had better turn in now--I shall tell you the rest in the morning.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II--THE CASWALLS OF CASTRA REGIS\n\n\nMr. Salton had all his life been an early riser, and necessarily an early\nwaker.  But early as he woke on the next morning--and although there was\nan excuse for not prolonging sleep in the constant whirr and rattle of\nthe \"donkey\" engine winches of the great ship--he met the eyes of Adam\nfixed on him from his berth.  His grand-nephew had given him the sofa,\noccupying the lower berth himself.  The old man, despite his great\nstrength and normal activity, was somewhat tired by his long journey of\nthe day before, and the prolonged and exciting interview which followed\nit.  So he was glad to lie still and rest his body, whilst his mind was\nactively exercised in taking in all he could of his strange surroundings.\nAdam, too, after the pastoral habit to which he had been bred, woke with\nthe dawn, and was ready to enter on the experiences of the new day\nwhenever it might suit his elder companion.  It was little wonder, then,\nthat, so soon as each realised the other's readiness, they simultaneously\njumped up and began to dress.  The steward had by previous instructions\nearly breakfast prepared, and it was not long before they went down the\ngangway on shore in search of the carriage.\n\nThey found Mr. Salton's bailiff looking out for them on the dock, and he\nbrought them at once to where the carriage was waiting in the street.\nRichard Salton pointed out with pride to his young companion the\nsuitability of the vehicle for every need of travel.  To it were\nharnessed four useful horses, with a postillion to each pair.\n\n\"See,\" said the old man proudly, \"how it has all the luxuries of useful\ntravel--silence and isolation as well as speed.  There is nothing to\nobstruct the view of those travelling and no one to overhear what they\nmay say.  I have used that trap for a quarter of a century, and I never\nsaw one more suitable for travel.  You shall test it shortly.  We are\ngoing to drive through the heart of England; and as we go I'll tell you\nwhat I was speaking of last night.  Our route is to be by Salisbury,\nBath, Bristol, Cheltenham, Worcester, Stafford; and so home.\"\n\nAdam remained silent a few minutes, during which he seemed all eyes, for\nhe perpetually ranged the whole circle of the horizon.\n\n\"Has our journey to-day, sir,\" he asked, \"any special relation to what\nyou said last night that you wanted to tell me?\"\n\n\"Not directly; but indirectly, everything.\"\n\n\"Won't you tell me now--I see we cannot be overheard--and if anything\nstrikes you as we go along, just run it in.  I shall understand.\"\n\nSo old Salton spoke:\n\n\"To begin at the beginning, Adam.  That lecture of yours on 'The Romans\nin Britain,' a report of which you posted to me, set me thinking--in\naddition to telling me your tastes.  I wrote to you at once and asked you\nto come home, for it struck me that if you were fond of historical\nresearch--as seemed a fact--this was exactly the place for you, in\naddition to its being the home of your own forbears.  If you could learn\nso much of the British Romans so far away in New South Wales, where there\ncannot be even a tradition of them, what might you not make of the same\namount of study on the very spot.  Where we are going is in the real\nheart of the old kingdom of Mercia, where there are traces of all the\nvarious nationalities which made up the conglomerate which became\nBritain.\"\n\n\"I rather gathered that you had some more definite--more personal reason\nfor my hurrying.  After all, history can keep--except in the making!\"\n\n\"Quite right, my boy.  I had a reason such as you very wisely guessed.  I\nwas anxious for you to be here when a rather important phase of our local\nhistory occurred.\"\n\n\"What is that, if I may ask, sir?\"\n\n\"Certainly.  The principal landowner of our part of the county is on his\nway home, and there will be a great home-coming, which you may care to\nsee.  The fact is, for more than a century the various owners in the\nsuccession here, with the exception of a short time, have lived abroad.\"\n\n\"How is that, sir, if I may ask?\"\n\n\"The great house and estate in our part of the world is Castra Regis, the\nfamily seat of the Caswall family.  The last owner who lived here was\nEdgar Caswall, grandfather of the man who is coming here--and he was the\nonly one who stayed even a short time.  This man's grandfather, also\nnamed Edgar--they keep the tradition of the family Christian\nname--quarrelled with his family and went to live abroad, not keeping up\nany intercourse, good or bad, with his relatives, although this\nparticular Edgar, as I told you, did visit his family estate, yet his son\nwas born and lived and died abroad, while his grandson, the latest\ninheritor, was also born and lived abroad till he was over thirty--his\npresent age.  This was the second line of absentees.  The great estate of\nCastra Regis has had no knowledge of its owner for five\ngenerations--covering more than a hundred and twenty years.  It has been\nwell administered, however, and no tenant or other connected with it has\nhad anything of which to complain.  All the same, there has been much\nnatural anxiety to see the new owner, and we are all excited about the\nevent of his coming.  Even I am, though I own my own estate, which,\nthough adjacent, is quite apart from Castra Regis.--Here we are now in\nnew ground for you.  That is the spire of Salisbury Cathedral, and when\nwe leave that we shall be getting close to the old Roman county, and you\nwill naturally want your eyes.  So we shall shortly have to keep our\nminds on old Mercia.  However, you need not be disappointed.  My old\nfriend, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, who, like myself, is a free-holder near\nCastra Regis--his estate, Doom Tower, is over the border of Derbyshire,\non the Peak--is coming to stay with me for the festivities to welcome\nEdgar Caswall.  He is just the sort of man you will like.  He is devoted\nto history, and is President of the Mercian Archaeological Society.  He\nknows more of our own part of the country, with its history and its\npeople, than anyone else.  I expect he will have arrived before us, and\nwe three can have a long chat after dinner.  He is also our local\ngeologist and natural historian.  So you and he will have many interests\nin common.  Amongst other things he has a special knowledge of the Peak\nand its caverns, and knows all the old legends of prehistoric times.\"\n\nThey spent the night at Cheltenham, and on the following morning resumed\ntheir journey to Stafford.  Adam's eyes were in constant employment, and\nit was not till Salton declared that they had now entered on the last\nstage of their journey, that he referred to Sir Nathaniel's coming.\n\nAs the dusk was closing down, they drove on to Lesser Hill, Mr. Salton's\nhouse.  It was now too dark to see any details of their surroundings.\nAdam could just see that it was on the top of a hill, not quite so high\nas that which was covered by the Castle, on whose tower flew the flag,\nand which was all ablaze with moving lights, manifestly used in the\npreparations for the festivities on the morrow.  So Adam deferred his\ncuriosity till daylight.  His grand-uncle was met at the door by a fine\nold man, who greeted him warmly.\n\n\"I came over early as you wished.  I suppose this is your grand-nephew--I\nam glad to meet you, Mr. Adam Salton.  I am Nathaniel de Salis, and your\nuncle is one of my oldest friends.\"\n\nAdam, from the moment of their eyes meeting, felt as if they were already\nfriends.  The meeting was a new note of welcome to those that had already\nsounded in his ears.\n\nThe cordiality with which Sir Nathaniel and Adam met, made the imparting\nof information easy.  Sir Nathaniel was a clever man of the world, who\nhad travelled much, and within a certain area studied deeply.  He was a\nbrilliant conversationalist, as was to be expected from a successful\ndiplomatist, even under unstimulating conditions.  But he had been\ntouched and to a certain extent fired by the younger man's evident\nadmiration and willingness to learn from him.  Accordingly the\nconversation, which began on the most friendly basis, soon warmed to an\ninterest above proof, as the old man spoke of it next day to Richard\nSalton.  He knew already that his old friend wanted his grand-nephew to\nlearn all he could of the subject in hand, and so had during his journey\nfrom the Peak put his thoughts in sequence for narration and explanation.\nAccordingly, Adam had only to listen and he must learn much that he\nwanted to know.  When dinner was over and the servants had withdrawn,\nleaving the three men at their wine, Sir Nathaniel began.\n\n\"I gather from your uncle--by the way, I suppose we had better speak of\nyou as uncle and nephew, instead of going into exact relationship?  In\nfact, your uncle is so old and dear a friend, that, with your permission,\nI shall drop formality with you altogether and speak of you and to you as\nAdam, as though you were his son.\"\n\n\"I should like,\" answered the young man, \"nothing better!\"\n\nThe answer warmed the hearts of both the old men, but, with the usual\navoidance of Englishmen of emotional subjects personal to themselves,\nthey instinctively returned to the previous question.  Sir Nathaniel took\nthe lead.\n\n\"I understand, Adam, that your uncle has posted you regarding the\nrelationships of the Caswall family?\"\n\n\"Partly, sir; but I understood that I was to hear minuter details from\nyou--if you would be so good.\"\n\n\"I shall be delighted to tell you anything so far as my knowledge goes.\nWell, the first Caswall in our immediate record is an Edgar, head of the\nfamily and owner of the estate, who came into his kingdom just about the\ntime that George III. did.  He had one son of about twenty-four.  There\nwas a violent quarrel between the two.  No one of this generation has any\nidea of the cause; but, considering the family characteristics, we may\ntake it for granted that though it was deep and violent, it was on the\nsurface trivial.\n\n\"The result of the quarrel was that the son left the house without a\nreconciliation or without even telling his father where he was going.  He\nnever came back again.  A few years after, he died, without having in the\nmeantime exchanged a word or a letter with his father.  He married abroad\nand left one son, who seems to have been brought up in ignorance of all\nbelonging to him.  The gulf between them appears to have been\nunbridgable; for in time this son married and in turn had a son, but\nneither joy nor sorrow brought the sundered together.  Under such\nconditions no _rapprochement_ was to be looked for, and an utter\nindifference, founded at best on ignorance, took the place of family\naffection--even on community of interests.  It was only due to the\nwatchfulness of the lawyers that the birth of this new heir was ever made\nknown.  He actually spent a few months in the ancestral home.\n\n\"After this the family interest merely rested on heirship of the estate.\nAs no other children have been born to any of the newer generations in\nthe intervening years, all hopes of heritage are now centred in the\ngrandson of this man.\n\n\"Now, it will be well for you to bear in mind the prevailing\ncharacteristics of this race.  These were well preserved and unchanging;\none and all they are the same: cold, selfish, dominant, reckless of\nconsequences in pursuit of their own will.  It was not that they did not\nkeep faith, though that was a matter which gave them little concern, but\nthat they took care to think beforehand of what they should do in order\nto gain their own ends.  If they should make a mistake, someone else\nshould bear the burthen of it.  This was so perpetually recurrent that it\nseemed to be a part of a fixed policy.  It was no wonder that, whatever\nchanges took place, they were always ensured in their own possessions.\nThey were absolutely cold and hard by nature.  Not one of them--so far as\nwe have any knowledge--was ever known to be touched by the softer\nsentiments, to swerve from his purpose, or hold his hand in obedience to\nthe dictates of his heart.  The pictures and effigies of them all show\ntheir adherence to the early Roman type.  Their eyes were full; their\nhair, of raven blackness, grew thick and close and curly.  Their figures\nwere massive and typical of strength.\n\n\"The thick black hair, growing low down on the neck, told of vast\nphysical strength and endurance.  But the most remarkable characteristic\nis the eyes.  Black, piercing, almost unendurable, they seem to contain\nin themselves a remarkable will power which there is no gainsaying.  It\nis a power that is partly racial and partly individual: a power\nimpregnated with some mysterious quality, partly hypnotic, partly\nmesmeric, which seems to take away from eyes that meet them all power of\nresistance--nay, all power of wishing to resist.  With eyes like those,\nset in that all-commanding face, one would need to be strong indeed to\nthink of resisting the inflexible will that lay behind.\n\n\"You may think, Adam, that all this is imagination on my part, especially\nas I have never seen any of them.  So it is, but imagination based on\ndeep study.  I have made use of all I know or can surmise logically\nregarding this strange race.  With such strange compelling qualities, is\nit any wonder that there is abroad an idea that in the race there is some\ndemoniac possession, which tends to a more definite belief that certain\nindividuals have in the past sold themselves to the Devil?\n\n\"But I think we had better go to bed now.  We have a lot to get through\nto-morrow, and I want you to have your brain clear, and all your\nsusceptibilities fresh.  Moreover, I want you to come with me for an\nearly walk, during which we may notice, whilst the matter is fresh in our\nminds, the peculiar disposition of this place--not merely your\ngrand-uncle's estate, but the lie of the country around it.  There are\nmany things on which we may seek--and perhaps find--enlightenment.  The\nmore we know at the start, the more things which may come into our view\nwill develop themselves.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III--DIANA'S GROVE\n\n\nCuriosity took Adam Salton out of bed in the early morning, but when he\nhad dressed and gone downstairs; he found that, early as he was, Sir\nNathaniel was ahead of him.  The old gentleman was quite prepared for a\nlong walk, and they started at once.\n\nSir Nathaniel, without speaking, led the way to the east, down the hill.\nWhen they had descended and risen again, they found themselves on the\neastern brink of a steep hill.  It was of lesser height than that on\nwhich the Castle was situated; but it was so placed that it commanded the\nvarious hills that crowned the ridge.  All along the ridge the rock\ncropped out, bare and bleak, but broken in rough natural castellation.\nThe form of the ridge was a segment of a circle, with the higher points\ninland to the west.  In the centre rose the Castle, on the highest point\nof all.  Between the various rocky excrescences were groups of trees of\nvarious sizes and heights, amongst some of which were what, in the early\nmorning light, looked like ruins.  These--whatever they were--were of\nmassive grey stone, probably limestone rudely cut--if indeed they were\nnot shaped naturally.  The fall of the ground was steep all along the\nridge, so steep that here and there both trees and rocks and buildings\nseemed to overhang the plain far below, through which ran many streams.\n\nSir Nathaniel stopped and looked around, as though to lose nothing of the\neffect.  The sun had climbed the eastern sky and was making all details\nclear.  He pointed with a sweeping gesture, as though calling Adam's\nattention to the extent of the view.  Having done so, he covered the\nground more slowly, as though inviting attention to detail.  Adam was a\nwilling and attentive pupil, and followed his motions exactly, missing--or\ntrying to miss--nothing.\n\n\"I have brought you here, Adam, because it seems to me that this is the\nspot on which to begin our investigations.  You have now in front of you\nalmost the whole of the ancient kingdom of Mercia.  In fact, we see the\nwhole of it except that furthest part, which is covered by the Welsh\nMarches and those parts which are hidden from where we stand by the high\nground of the immediate west.  We can see--theoretically--the whole of\nthe eastern bound of the kingdom, which ran south from the Humber to the\nWash.  I want you to bear in mind the trend of the ground, for some time,\nsooner or later, we shall do well to have it in our mind's eye when we\nare considering the ancient traditions and superstitions, and are trying\nto find the _rationale_ of them.  Each legend, each superstition which we\nreceive, will help in the understanding and possible elucidation of the\nothers.  And as all such have a local basis, we can come closer to the\ntruth--or the probability--by knowing the local conditions as we go\nalong.  It will help us to bring to our aid such geological truth as we\nmay have between us.  For instance, the building materials used in\nvarious ages can afford their own lessons to understanding eyes.  The\nvery heights and shapes and materials of these hills--nay, even of the\nwide plain that lies between us and the sea--have in themselves the\nmaterials of enlightening books.\"\n\n\"For instance, sir?\" said Adam, venturing a question.\n\n\"Well, look at those hills which surround the main one where the site for\nthe Castle was wisely chosen--on the highest ground.  Take the others.\nThere is something ostensible in each of them, and in all probability\nsomething unseen and unproved, but to be imagined, also.\"\n\n\"For instance?\" continued Adam.\n\n\"Let us take them _seriatim_.  That to the east, where the trees are,\nlower down--that was once the location of a Roman temple, possibly\nfounded on a pre-existing Druidical one.  Its name implies the former,\nand the grove of ancient oaks suggests the latter.\"\n\n\"Please explain.\"\n\n\"The old name translated means 'Diana's Grove.'  Then the next one higher\nthan it, but just beyond it, is called '_Mercy_'--in all probability a\ncorruption or familiarisation of the word _Mercia_, with a Roman pun\nincluded.  We learn from early manuscripts that the place was called\n_Vilula Misericordiae_.  It was originally a nunnery, founded by Queen\nBertha, but done away with by King Penda, the reactionary to Paganism\nafter St. Augustine.  Then comes your uncle's place--Lesser Hill.  Though\nit is so close to the Castle, it is not connected with it.  It is a\nfreehold, and, so far as we know, of equal age.  It has always belonged\nto your family.\"\n\n\"Then there only remains the Castle!\"\n\n\"That is all; but its history contains the histories of all the others--in\nfact, the whole history of early England.\"  Sir Nathaniel, seeing the\nexpectant look on Adam's face, went on:\n\n\"The history of the Castle has no beginning so far as we know.  The\nfurthest records or surmises or inferences simply accept it as existing.\nSome of these--guesses, let us call them--seem to show that there was\nsome sort of structure there when the Romans came, therefore it must have\nbeen a place of importance in Druid times--if indeed that was the\nbeginning.  Naturally the Romans accepted it, as they did everything of\nthe kind that was, or might be, useful.  The change is shown or inferred\nin the name Castra.  It was the highest protected ground, and so\nnaturally became the most important of their camps.  A study of the map\nwill show you that it must have been a most important centre.  It both\nprotected the advances already made to the north, and helped to dominate\nthe sea coast.  It sheltered the western marches, beyond which lay savage\nWales--and danger.  It provided a means of getting to the Severn, round\nwhich lay the great Roman roads then coming into existence, and made\npossible the great waterway to the heart of England--through the Severn\nand its tributaries.  It brought the east and the west together by the\nswiftest and easiest ways known to those times.  And, finally, it\nprovided means of descent on London and all the expanse of country\nwatered by the Thames.\n\n\"With such a centre, already known and organised, we can easily see that\neach fresh wave of invasion--the Angles, the Saxons, the Danes, and the\nNormans--found it a desirable possession and so ensured its upholding.  In\nthe earlier centuries it was merely a vantage ground.  But when the\nvictorious Romans brought with them the heavy solid fortifications\nimpregnable to the weapons of the time, its commanding position alone\nensured its adequate building and equipment.  Then it was that the\nfortified camp of the Caesars developed into the castle of the king.  As\nwe are as yet ignorant of the names of the first kings of Mercia, no\nhistorian has been able to guess which of them made it his ultimate\ndefence; and I suppose we shall never know now.  In process of time, as\nthe arts of war developed, it increased in size and strength, and\nalthough recorded details are lacking, the history is written not merely\nin the stone of its building, but is inferred in the changes of\nstructure.  Then the sweeping changes which followed the Norman Conquest\nwiped out all lesser records than its own.  To-day we must accept it as\none of the earliest castles of the Conquest, probably not later than the\ntime of Henry I.  Roman and Norman were both wise in their retention of\nplaces of approved strength or utility.  So it was that these surrounding\nheights, already established and to a certain extent proved, were\nretained.  Indeed, such characteristics as already pertained to them were\npreserved, and to-day afford to us lessons regarding things which have\nthemselves long since passed away.\n\n\"So much for the fortified heights; but the hollows too have their own\nstory.  But how the time passes!  We must hurry home, or your uncle will\nwonder what has become of us.\"\n\nHe started with long steps towards Lesser Hill, and Adam was soon\nfurtively running in order to keep up with him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV--THE LADY ARABELLA MARCH\n\n\n\"Now, there is no hurry, but so soon as you are both ready we shall\nstart,\" Mr. Salton said when breakfast had begun.  \"I want to take you\nfirst to see a remarkable relic of Mercia, and then we'll go to Liverpool\nthrough what is called 'The Great Vale of Cheshire.'  You may be\ndisappointed, but take care not to prepare your mind\"--this to Adam--\"for\nanything stupendous or heroic.  You would not think the place a vale at\nall, unless you were told so beforehand, and had confidence in the\nveracity of the teller.  We should get to the Landing Stage in time to\nmeet the _West African_, and catch Mr. Caswall as he comes ashore.  We\nwant to do him honour--and, besides, it will be more pleasant to have the\nintroductions over before we go to his _fete_ at the Castle.\"\n\nThe carriage was ready, the same as had been used the previous day, but\nthere were different horses--magnificent animals, and keen for work.\nBreakfast was soon over, and they shortly took their places.  The\npostillions had their orders, and were quickly on their way at an\nexhilarating pace.\n\nPresently, in obedience to Mr. Salton's signal, the carriage drew up\nopposite a great heap of stones by the wayside.\n\n\"Here, Adam,\" he said, \"is something that you of all men should not pass\nby unnoticed.  That heap of stones brings us at once to the dawn of the\nAnglian kingdom.  It was begun more than a thousand years ago--in the\nlatter part of the seventh century--in memory of a murder.  Wulfere, King\nof Mercia, nephew of Penda, here murdered his two sons for embracing\nChristianity.  As was the custom of the time, each passer-by added a\nstone to the memorial heap.  Penda represented heathen reaction after St.\nAugustine's mission.  Sir Nathaniel can tell you as much as you want\nabout this, and put you, if you wish, on the track of such accurate\nknowledge as there is.\"\n\nWhilst they were looking at the heap of stones, they noticed that another\ncarriage had drawn up beside them, and the passenger--there was only\none--was regarding them curiously.  The carriage was an old heavy\ntravelling one, with arms blazoned on it gorgeously.  The men took off\ntheir hats, as the occupant, a lady, addressed them.\n\n\"How do you do, Sir Nathaniel?  How do you do, Mr. Salton?  I hope you\nhave not met with any accident.  Look at me!\"\n\nAs she spoke she pointed to where one of the heavy springs was broken\nacross, the broken metal showing bright.  Adam spoke up at once:\n\n\"Oh, that can soon be put right.\"\n\n\"Soon?  There is no one near who can mend a break like that.\"\n\n\"I can.\"\n\n\"You!\"  She looked incredulously at the dapper young gentleman who spoke.\n\"You--why, it's a workman's job.\"\n\n\"All right, I am a workman--though that is not the only sort of work I\ndo.  I am an Australian, and, as we have to move about fast, we are all\ntrained to farriery and such mechanics as come into travel--I am quite at\nyour service.\"\n\n\"I hardly know how to thank you for your kindness, of which I gladly\navail myself.  I don't know what else I can do, as I wish to meet Mr.\nCaswall of Castra Regis, who arrives home from Africa to-day.  It is a\nnotable home-coming; all the countryside want to do him honour.\"  She\nlooked at the old men and quickly made up her mind as to the identity of\nthe stranger.  \"You must be Mr. Adam Salton of Lesser Hill.  I am Lady\nArabella March of Diana's Grove.\"  As she spoke she turned slightly to\nMr. Salton, who took the hint and made a formal introduction.\n\nSo soon as this was done, Adam took some tools from his uncle's carriage,\nand at once began work on the broken spring.  He was an expert workman,\nand the breach was soon made good.  Adam was gathering the tools which he\nhad been using--which, after the manner of all workmen, had been\nscattered about--when he noticed that several black snakes had crawled\nout from the heap of stones and were gathering round him.  This naturally\noccupied his mind, and he was not thinking of anything else when he\nnoticed Lady Arabella, who had opened the door of the carriage, slip from\nit with a quick gliding motion.  She was already among the snakes when he\ncalled out to warn her.  But there seemed to be no need of warning.  The\nsnakes had turned and were wriggling back to the mound as quickly as they\ncould.  He laughed to himself behind his teeth as he whispered, \"No need\nto fear there.  They seem much more afraid of her than she of them.\"  All\nthe same he began to beat on the ground with a stick which was lying\nclose to him, with the instinct of one used to such vermin.  In an\ninstant he was alone beside the mound with Lady Arabella, who appeared\nquite unconcerned at the incident.  Then he took a long look at her, and\nher dress alone was sufficient to attract attention.  She was clad in\nsome kind of soft white stuff, which clung close to her form, showing to\nthe full every movement of her sinuous figure.  She wore a close-fitting\ncap of some fine fur of dazzling white.  Coiled round her white throat\nwas a large necklace of emeralds, whose profusion of colour dazzled when\nthe sun shone on them.  Her voice was peculiar, very low and sweet, and\nso soft that the dominant note was of sibilation.  Her hands, too, were\npeculiar--long, flexible, white, with a strange movement as of waving\ngently to and fro.\n\nShe appeared quite at ease, and, after thanking Adam, said that if any of\nhis uncle's party were going to Liverpool she would be most happy to join\nforces.\n\n\"Whilst you are staying here, Mr. Salton, you must look on the grounds of\nDiana's Grove as your own, so that you may come and go just as you do in\nLesser Hill.  There are some fine views, and not a few natural\ncuriosities which are sure to interest you, if you are a student of\nnatural history--specially of an earlier kind, when the world was\nyounger.\"\n\nThe heartiness with which she spoke, and the warmth of her words--not of\nher manner, which was cold and distant--made him suspicious.  In the\nmeantime both his uncle and Sir Nathaniel had thanked her for the\ninvitation--of which, however, they said they were unable to avail\nthemselves.  Adam had a suspicion that, though she answered regretfully,\nshe was in reality relieved.  When he had got into the carriage with the\ntwo old men, and they had driven off, he was not surprised when Sir\nNathaniel spoke.\n\n\"I could not but feel that she was glad to be rid of us.  She can play\nher game better alone!\"\n\n\"What is her game?\" asked Adam unthinkingly.\n\n\"All the county knows it, my boy.  Caswall is a very rich man.  Her\nhusband was rich when she married him--or seemed to be.  When he\ncommitted suicide, it was found that he had nothing left, and the estate\nwas mortgaged up to the hilt.  Her only hope is in a rich marriage.  I\nsuppose I need not draw any conclusion; you can do that as well as I\ncan.\"\n\nAdam remained silent nearly all the time they were travelling through the\nalleged Vale of Cheshire.  He thought much during that journey and came\nto several conclusions, though his lips were unmoved.  One of these\nconclusions was that he would be very careful about paying any attention\nto Lady Arabella.  He was himself a rich man, how rich not even his uncle\nhad the least idea, and would have been surprised had he known.\n\nThe remainder of the journey was uneventful, and upon arrival at\nLiverpool they went aboard the _West African_, which had just come to the\nlanding-stage.  There his uncle introduced himself to Mr. Caswall, and\nfollowed this up by introducing Sir Nathaniel and then Adam.  The new-\ncomer received them graciously, and said what a pleasure it was to be\ncoming home after so long an absence of his family from their old seat.\nAdam was pleased at the warmth of the reception; but he could not avoid a\nfeeling of repugnance at the man's face.  He was trying hard to overcome\nthis when a diversion was caused by the arrival of Lady Arabella.  The\ndiversion was welcome to all; the two Saltons and Sir Nathaniel were\nshocked at Caswall's face--so hard, so ruthless, so selfish, so dominant.\n\"God help any,\" was the common thought, \"who is under the domination of\nsuch a man!\"\n\nPresently his African servant approached him, and at once their thoughts\nchanged to a larger toleration.  Caswall looked indeed a savage--but a\ncultured savage.  In him were traces of the softening civilisation of\nages--of some of the higher instincts and education of man, no matter how\nrudimentary these might be.  But the face of Oolanga, as his master\ncalled him, was unreformed, unsoftened savage, and inherent in it were\nall the hideous possibilities of a lost, devil-ridden child of the forest\nand the swamp--the lowest of all created things that could be regarded as\nin some form ostensibly human.  Lady Arabella and Oolanga arrived almost\nsimultaneously, and Adam was surprised to notice what effect their\nappearance had on each other.  The woman seemed as if she would not--could\nnot--condescend to exhibit any concern or interest in such a creature.  On\nthe other hand, the negro's bearing was such as in itself to justify her\npride.  He treated her not merely as a slave treats his master, but as a\nworshipper would treat a deity.  He knelt before her with his hands out-\nstretched and his forehead in the dust.  So long as she remained he did\nnot move; it was only when she went over to Caswall that he relaxed his\nattitude of devotion and stood by respectfully.\n\nAdam spoke to his own man, Davenport, who was standing by, having arrived\nwith the bailiff of Lesser Hill, who had followed Mr. Salton in a pony\ntrap.  As he spoke, he pointed to an attentive ship's steward, and\npresently the two men were conversing.\n\n\"I think we ought to be moving,\" Mr. Salton said to Adam.  \"I have some\nthings to do in Liverpool, and I am sure that both Mr. Caswall and Lady\nArabella would like to get under weigh for Castra Regis.\"\n\n\"I too, sir, would like to do something,\" replied Adam.  \"I want to find\nout where Ross, the animal merchant, lives--I want to take a small animal\nhome with me, if you don't mind.  He is only a little thing, and will be\nno trouble.\"\n\n\"Of course not, my boy.  What kind of animal is it that you want?\"\n\n\"A mongoose.\"\n\n\"A mongoose!  What on earth do you want it for?\"\n\n\"To kill snakes.\"\n\n\"Good!\"  The old man remembered the mound of stones.  No explanation was\nneeded.\n\nWhen Ross heard what was wanted, he asked:\n\n\"Do you want something special, or will an ordinary mongoose do?\"\n\n\"Well, of course I want a good one.  But I see no need for anything\nspecial.  It is for ordinary use.\"\n\n\"I can let you have a choice of ordinary ones.  I only asked, because I\nhave in stock a very special one which I got lately from Nepaul.  He has\na record of his own.  He killed a king cobra that had been seen in the\nRajah's garden.  But I don't suppose we have any snakes of the kind in\nthis cold climate--I daresay an ordinary one will do.\"\n\nWhen Adam got back to the carriage, carefully carrying the box with the\nmongoose, Sir Nathaniel said: \"Hullo! what have you got there?\"\n\n\"A mongoose.\"\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"To kill snakes!\"\n\nSir Nathaniel laughed.\n\n\"I heard Lady Arabella's invitation to you to come to Diana's Grove.\"\n\n\"Well, what on earth has that got to do with it?\"\n\n\"Nothing directly that I know of.  But we shall see.\"  Adam waited, and\nthe old man went on: \"Have you by any chance heard the other name which\nwas given long ago to that place.\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"It was called--Look here, this subject wants a lot of talking over.\nSuppose we wait till we are alone and have lots of time before us.\"\n\n\"All right, sir.\"  Adam was filled with curiosity, but he thought it\nbetter not to hurry matters.  All would come in good time.  Then the\nthree men returned home, leaving Mr. Caswall to spend the night in\nLiverpool.\n\nThe following day the Lesser Hill party set out for Castra Regis, and for\nthe time Adam thought no more of Diana's Grove or of what mysteries it\nhad contained--or might still contain.\n\nThe guests were crowding in, and special places were marked for important\npeople.  Adam, seeing so many persons of varied degree, looked round for\nLady Arabella, but could not locate her.  It was only when he saw the old-\nfashioned travelling carriage approach and heard the sound of cheering\nwhich went with it, that he realised that Edgar Caswall had arrived.\nThen, on looking more closely, he saw that Lady Arabella, dressed as he\nhad seen her last, was seated beside him.  When the carriage drew up at\nthe great flight of steps, the host jumped down and gave her his hand.\n\nIt was evident to all that she was the chief guest at the festivities.  It\nwas not long before the seats on the dais were filled, while the tenants\nand guests of lesser importance had occupied all the coigns of vantage\nnot reserved.  The order of the day had been carefully arranged by a\ncommittee.  There were some speeches, happily neither many nor long; and\nthen festivities were suspended till the time for feasting arrived.  In\nthe interval Caswall walked among his guests, speaking to all in a\nfriendly manner and expressing a general welcome.  The other guests came\ndown from the dais and followed his example, so there was unceremonious\nmeeting and greeting between gentle and simple.\n\nAdam Salton naturally followed with his eyes all that went on within\ntheir scope, taking note of all who seemed to afford any interest.  He\nwas young and a man and a stranger from a far distance; so on all these\naccounts he naturally took stock rather of the women than of the men, and\nof these, those who were young and attractive.  There were lots of pretty\ngirls among the crowd, and Adam, who was a handsome young man and well\nset up, got his full share of admiring glances.  These did not concern\nhim much, and he remained unmoved until there came along a group of\nthree, by their dress and bearing, of the farmer class.  One was a sturdy\nold man; the other two were good-looking girls, one of a little over\ntwenty, the other not quite so old.  So soon as Adam's eyes met those of\nthe younger girl, who stood nearest to him, some sort of electricity\nflashed--that divine spark which begins by recognition, and ends in\nobedience.  Men call it \"Love.\"\n\nBoth his companions noticed how much Adam was taken by the pretty girl,\nand spoke of her to him in a way which made his heart warm to them.\n\n\"Did you notice that party that passed?  The old man is Michael Watford,\none of the tenants of Mr. Caswall.  He occupies Mercy Farm, which Sir\nNathaniel pointed out to you to-day.  The girls are his grand-daughters,\nthe elder, Lilla, being the only child of his elder son, who died when\nshe was less than a year old.  His wife died on the same day.  She is a\ngood girl--as good as she is pretty.  The other is her first cousin, the\ndaughter of Watford's second son.  He went for a soldier when he was just\nover twenty, and was drafted abroad.  He was not a good correspondent,\nthough he was a good enough son.  A few letters came, and then his father\nheard from the colonel of his regiment that he had been killed by dacoits\nin Burmah.  He heard from the same source that his boy had been married\nto a Burmese, and that there was a daughter only a year old.  Watford had\nthe child brought home, and she grew up beside Lilla.  The only thing\nthat they heard of her birth was that her name was Mimi.  The two\nchildren adored each other, and do to this day.  Strange how different\nthey are!  Lilla all fair, like the old Saxon stock from which she is\nsprung; Mimi showing a trace of her mother's race.  Lilla is as gentle as\na dove, but Mimi's black eyes can glow whenever she is upset.  The only\nthing that upsets her is when anything happens to injure or threaten or\nannoy Lilla.  Then her eyes glow as do the eyes of a bird when her young\nare menaced.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V--THE WHITE WORM\n\n\nMr. Salton introduced Adam to Mr. Watford and his grand-daughters, and\nthey all moved on together.  Of course neighbours in the position of the\nWatfords knew all about Adam Salton, his relationship, circumstances, and\nprospects.  So it would have been strange indeed if both girls did not\ndream of possibilities of the future.  In agricultural England, eligible\nmen of any class are rare.  This particular man was specially eligible,\nfor he did not belong to a class in which barriers of caste were strong.\nSo when it began to be noticed that he walked beside Mimi Watford and\nseemed to desire her society, all their friends endeavoured to give the\npromising affair a helping hand.  When the gongs sounded for the banquet,\nhe went with her into the tent where her grandfather had seats.  Mr.\nSalton and Sir Nathaniel noticed that the young man did not come to claim\nhis appointed place at the dais table; but they understood and made no\nremark, or indeed did not seem to notice his absence.\n\nLady Arabella sat as before at Edgar Caswall's right hand.  She was\ncertainly a striking and unusual woman, and to all it seemed fitting from\nher rank and personal qualities that she should be the chosen partner of\nthe heir on his first appearance.  Of course nothing was said openly by\nthose of her own class who were present; but words were not necessary\nwhen so much could be expressed by nods and smiles.  It seemed to be an\naccepted thing that at last there was to be a mistress of Castra Regis,\nand that she was present amongst them.  There were not lacking some who,\nwhilst admitting all her charm and beauty, placed her in the second rank,\nLilla Watford being marked as first.  There was sufficient divergence of\ntype, as well as of individual beauty, to allow of fair comment; Lady\nArabella represented the aristocratic type, and Lilla that of the\ncommonalty.\n\nWhen the dusk began to thicken, Mr. Salton and Sir Nathaniel walked\nhome--the trap had been sent away early in the day--leaving Adam to\nfollow in his own time.  He came in earlier than was expected, and seemed\nupset about something.  Neither of the elders made any comment.  They all\nlit cigarettes, and, as dinner-time was close at hand, went to their\nrooms to get ready.\n\nAdam had evidently been thinking in the interval.  He joined the others\nin the drawing-room, looking ruffled and impatient--a condition of things\nseen for the first time.  The others, with the patience--or the\nexperience--of age, trusted to time to unfold and explain things.  They\nhad not long to wait.  After sitting down and standing up several times,\nAdam suddenly burst out.\n\n\"That fellow seems to think he owns the earth.  Can't he let people\nalone!  He seems to think that he has only to throw his handkerchief to\nany woman, and be her master.\"\n\nThis outburst was in itself enlightening.  Only thwarted affection in\nsome guise could produce this feeling in an amiable young man.  Sir\nNathaniel, as an old diplomatist, had a way of understanding, as if by\nforeknowledge, the true inwardness of things, and asked suddenly, but in\na matter-of-fact, indifferent voice:\n\n\"Was he after Lilla?\"\n\n\"Yes, and the fellow didn't lose any time either.  Almost as soon as they\nmet, he began to butter her up, and tell her how beautiful she was.  Why,\nbefore he left her side, he had asked himself to tea to-morrow at Mercy\nFarm.  Stupid ass!  He might see that the girl isn't his sort!  I never\nsaw anything like it.  It was just like a hawk and a pigeon.\"\n\nAs he spoke, Sir Nathaniel turned and looked at Mr. Salton--a keen look\nwhich implied a full understanding.\n\n\"Tell us all about it, Adam.  There are still a few minutes before\ndinner, and we shall all have better appetites when we have come to some\nconclusion on this matter.\"\n\n\"There is nothing to tell, sir; that is the worst of it.  I am bound to\nsay that there was not a word said that a human being could object to.  He\nwas very civil, and all that was proper--just what a landlord might be to\na tenant's daughter . . . Yet--yet--well, I don't know how it was, but it\nmade my blood boil.\"\n\n\"How did the hawk and the pigeon come in?\"  Sir Nathaniel's voice was\nsoft and soothing, nothing of contradiction or overdone curiosity in it--a\ntone eminently suited to win confidence.\n\n\"I can hardly explain.  I can only say that he looked like a hawk and she\nlike a dove--and, now that I think of it, that is what they each did look\nlike; and do look like in their normal condition.\"\n\n\"That is so!\" came the soft voice of Sir Nathaniel.\n\nAdam went on:\n\n\"Perhaps that early Roman look of his set me off.  But I wanted to\nprotect her; she seemed in danger.\"\n\n\"She seems in danger, in a way, from all you young men.  I couldn't help\nnoticing the way that even you looked--as if you wished to absorb her!\"\n\n\"I hope both you young men will keep your heads cool,\" put in Mr. Salton.\n\"You know, Adam, it won't do to have any quarrel between you, especially\nso soon after his home-coming and your arrival here.  We must think of\nthe feelings and happiness of our neighbours; mustn't we?\"\n\n\"I hope so, sir.  I assure you that, whatever may happen, or even\nthreaten, I shall obey your wishes in this as in all things.\"\n\n\"Hush!\" whispered Sir Nathaniel, who heard the servants in the passage\nbringing dinner.\n\nAfter dinner, over the walnuts and the wine, Sir Nathaniel returned to\nthe subject of the local legends.\n\n\"It will perhaps be a less dangerous topic for us to discuss than more\nrecent ones.\"\n\n\"All right, sir,\" said Adam heartily.  \"I think you may depend on me now\nwith regard to any topic.  I can even discuss Mr. Caswall.  Indeed, I may\nmeet him to-morrow.  He is going, as I said, to call at Mercy Farm at\nthree o'clock--but I have an appointment at two.\"\n\n\"I notice,\" said Mr. Salton, \"that you do not lose any time.\"\n\nThe two old men once more looked at each other steadily.  Then, lest the\nmood of his listener should change with delay, Sir Nathaniel began at\nonce:\n\n\"I don't propose to tell you all the legends of Mercia, or even to make a\nselection of them.  It will be better, I think, for our purpose if we\nconsider a few facts--recorded or unrecorded--about this neighbourhood.  I\nthink we might begin with Diana's Grove.  It has roots in the different\nepochs of our history, and each has its special crop of legend.  The\nDruid and the Roman are too far off for matters of detail; but it seems\nto me the Saxon and the Angles are near enough to yield material for\nlegendary lore.  We find that this particular place had another name\nbesides Diana's Grove.  This was manifestly of Roman origin, or of\nGrecian accepted as Roman.  The other is more pregnant of adventure and\nromance than the Roman name.  In Mercian tongue it was 'The Lair of the\nWhite Worm.'  This needs a word of explanation at the beginning.\n\n\"In the dawn of the language, the word 'worm' had a somewhat different\nmeaning from that in use to-day.  It was an adaptation of the Anglo-Saxon\n'wyrm,' meaning a dragon or snake; or from the Gothic 'waurms,' a\nserpent; or the Icelandic 'ormur,' or the German 'wurm.'  We gather that\nit conveyed originally an idea of size and power, not as now in the\ndiminutive of both these meanings.  Here legendary history helps us.  We\nhave the well-known legend of the 'Worm Well' of Lambton Castle, and that\nof the 'Laidly Worm of Spindleston Heugh' near Bamborough.  In both these\nlegends the 'worm' was a monster of vast size and power--a veritable\ndragon or serpent, such as legend attributes to vast fens or quags where\nthere was illimitable room for expansion.  A glance at a geological map\nwill show that whatever truth there may have been of the actuality of\nsuch monsters in the early geologic periods, at least there was plenty of\npossibility.  In England there were originally vast plains where the\nplentiful supply of water could gather.  The streams were deep and slow,\nand there were holes of abysmal depth, where any kind and size of\nantediluvian monster could find a habitat.  In places, which now we can\nsee from our windows, were mud-holes a hundred or more feet deep.  Who\ncan tell us when the age of the monsters which flourished in slime came\nto an end?  There must have been places and conditions which made for\ngreater longevity, greater size, greater strength than was usual.  Such\nover-lappings may have come down even to our earlier centuries.  Nay, are\nthere not now creatures of a vastness of bulk regarded by the generality\nof men as impossible?  Even in our own day there are seen the traces of\nanimals, if not the animals themselves, of stupendous size--veritable\nsurvivals from earlier ages, preserved by some special qualities in their\nhabitats.  I remember meeting a distinguished man in India, who had the\nreputation of being a great shikaree, who told me that the greatest\ntemptation he had ever had in his life was to shoot a giant snake which\nhe had come across in the Terai of Upper India.  He was on a\ntiger-shooting expedition, and as his elephant was crossing a nullah, it\nsquealed.  He looked down from his howdah and saw that the elephant had\nstepped across the body of a snake which was dragging itself through the\njungle.  'So far as I could see,' he said, 'it must have been eighty or\none hundred feet in length.  Fully forty or fifty feet was on each side\nof the track, and though the weight which it dragged had thinned it, it\nwas as thick round as a man's body.  I suppose you know that when you are\nafter tiger, it is a point of honour not to shoot at anything else, as\nlife may depend on it.  I could easily have spined this monster, but I\nfelt that I must not--so, with regret, I had to let it go.'\n\n\"Just imagine such a monster anywhere in this country, and at once we\ncould get a sort of idea of the 'worms,' which possibly did frequent the\ngreat morasses which spread round the mouths of many of the great\nEuropean rivers.\"\n\n\"I haven't the least doubt, sir, that there may have been such monsters\nas you have spoken of still existing at a much later period than is\ngenerally accepted,\" replied Adam.  \"Also, if there were such things,\nthat this was the very place for them.  I have tried to think over the\nmatter since you pointed out the configuration of the ground.  But it\nseems to me that there is a hiatus somewhere.  Are there not mechanical\ndifficulties?\"\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\n\"Well, our antique monster must have been mighty heavy, and the distances\nhe had to travel were long and the ways difficult.  From where we are now\nsitting down to the level of the mud-holes is a distance of several\nhundred feet--I am leaving out of consideration altogether any lateral\ndistance.  Is it possible that there was a way by which a monster could\ntravel up and down, and yet no chance recorder have ever seen him?  Of\ncourse we have the legends; but is not some more exact evidence necessary\nin a scientific investigation?\"\n\n\"My dear Adam, all you say is perfectly right, and, were we starting on\nsuch an investigation, we could not do better than follow your reasoning.\nBut, my dear boy, you must remember that all this took place thousands of\nyears ago.  You must remember, too, that all records of the kind that\nwould help us are lacking.  Also, that the places to be considered were\ndesert, so far as human habitation or population are considered.  In the\nvast desolation of such a place as complied with the necessary\nconditions, there must have been such profusion of natural growth as\nwould bar the progress of men formed as we are.  The lair of such a\nmonster would not have been disturbed for hundreds--or thousands--of\nyears.  Moreover, these creatures must have occupied places quite\ninaccessible to man.  A snake who could make himself comfortable in a\nquagmire, a hundred feet deep, would be protected on the outskirts by\nsuch stupendous morasses as now no longer exist, or which, if they exist\nanywhere at all, can be on very few places on the earth's surface.  Far\nbe it from me to say that in more elemental times such things could not\nhave been.  The condition belongs to the geologic age--the great birth\nand growth of the world, when natural forces ran riot, when the struggle\nfor existence was so savage that no vitality which was not founded in a\ngigantic form could have even a possibility of survival.  That such a\ntime existed, we have evidences in geology, but there only; we can never\nexpect proofs such as this age demands.  We can only imagine or surmise\nsuch things--or such conditions and such forces as overcame them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI--HAWK AND PIGEON\n\n\nAt breakfast-time next morning Sir Nathaniel and Mr. Salton were seated\nwhen Adam came hurriedly into the room.\n\n\"Any news?\" asked his uncle mechanically.\n\n\"Four.\"\n\n\"Four what?\" asked Sir Nathaniel.\n\n\"Snakes,\" said Adam, helping himself to a grilled kidney.\n\n\"Four snakes.  I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Mongoose,\" said Adam, and then added explanatorily: \"I was out with the\nmongoose just after three.\"\n\n\"Four snakes in one morning!  Why, I didn't know there were so many on\nthe Brow\"--the local name for the western cliff.  \"I hope that wasn't the\nconsequence of our talk of last night?\"\n\n\"It was, sir.  But not directly.\"\n\n\"But, God bless my soul, you didn't expect to get a snake like the\nLambton worm, did you?  Why, a mongoose, to tackle a monster like that--if\nthere were one--would have to be bigger than a haystack.\"\n\n\"These were ordinary snakes, about as big as a walking-stick.\"\n\n\"Well, it's pleasant to be rid of them, big or little.  That is a good\nmongoose, I am sure; he'll clear out all such vermin round here,\" said\nMr. Salton.\n\nAdam went quietly on with his breakfast.  Killing a few snakes in a\nmorning was no new experience to him.  He left the room the moment\nbreakfast was finished and went to the study that his uncle had arranged\nfor him.  Both Sir Nathaniel and Mr. Salton took it that he wanted to be\nby himself, so as to avoid any questioning or talk of the visit that he\nwas to make that afternoon.  They saw nothing further of him till about\nhalf-an-hour before dinner-time.  Then he came quietly into the smoking-\nroom, where Mr. Salton and Sir Nathaniel were sitting together, ready\ndressed.\n\n\"I suppose there is no use waiting.  We had better get it over at once,\"\nremarked Adam.\n\nHis uncle, thinking to make things easier for him, said: \"Get what over?\"\n\nThere was a sign of shyness about him at this.  He stammered a little at\nfirst, but his voice became more even as he went on.\n\n\"My visit to Mercy Farm.\"\n\nMr. Salton waited eagerly.  The old diplomatist simply smiled.\n\n\"I suppose you both know that I was much interested yesterday in the\nWatfords?\"  There was no denial or fending off the question.  Both the\nold men smiled acquiescence.  Adam went on: \"I meant you to see it--both\nof you.  You, uncle, because you are my uncle and the nearest of my own\nkin, and, moreover, you couldn't have been more kind to me or made me\nmore welcome if you had been my own father.\"  Mr. Salton said nothing.  He\nsimply held out his hand, and the other took it and held it for a few\nseconds.  \"And you, sir, because you have shown me something of the same\naffection which in my wildest dreams of home I had no right to expect.\"\nHe stopped for an instant, much moved.\n\nSir Nathaniel answered softly, laying his hand on the youth's shoulder.\n\n\"You are right, my boy; quite right.  That is the proper way to look at\nit.  And I may tell you that we old men, who have no children of our own,\nfeel our hearts growing warm when we hear words like those.\"\n\nThen Adam hurried on, speaking with a rush, as if he wanted to come to\nthe crucial point.\n\n\"Mr. Watford had not come in, but Lilla and Mimi were at home, and they\nmade me feel very welcome.  They have all a great regard for my uncle.  I\nam glad of that any way, for I like them all--much.  We were having tea,\nwhen Mr. Caswall came to the door, attended by the negro.  Lilla opened\nthe door herself.  The window of the living-room at the farm is a large\none, and from within you cannot help seeing anyone coming.  Mr. Caswall\nsaid he had ventured to call, as he wished to make the acquaintance of\nall his tenants, in a less formal way, and more individually, than had\nbeen possible to him on the previous day.  The girls made him\nwelcome--they are very sweet girls those, sir; someone will be very happy\nsome day there--with either of them.\"\n\n\"And that man may be you, Adam,\" said Mr. Salton heartily.\n\nA sad look came over the young man's eyes, and the fire his uncle had\nseen there died out.  Likewise the timbre left his voice, making it sound\nlonely.\n\n\"Such might crown my life.  But that happiness, I fear, is not for me--or\nnot without pain and loss and woe.\"\n\n\"Well, it's early days yet!\" cried Sir Nathaniel heartily.\n\nThe young man turned on him his eyes, which had now grown excessively\nsad.\n\n\"Yesterday--a few hours ago--that remark would have given me new hope--new\ncourage; but since then I have learned too much.\"\n\nThe old man, skilled in the human heart, did not attempt to argue in such\na matter.\n\n\"Too early to give in, my boy.\"\n\n\"I am not of a giving-in kind,\" replied the young man earnestly.  \"But,\nafter all, it is wise to realise a truth.  And when a man, though he is\nyoung, feels as I do--as I have felt ever since yesterday, when I first\nsaw Mimi's eyes--his heart jumps.  He does not need to learn things.  He\nknows.\"\n\nThere was silence in the room, during which the twilight stole on\nimperceptibly.  It was Adam who again broke the silence.\n\n\"Do you know, uncle, if we have any second sight in our family?\"\n\n\"No, not that I ever heard about.  Why?\"\n\n\"Because,\" he answered slowly, \"I have a conviction which seems to answer\nall the conditions of second sight.\"\n\n\"And then?\" asked the old man, much perturbed.\n\n\"And then the usual inevitable.  What in the Hebrides and other places,\nwhere the Sight is a cult--a belief--is called 'the doom'--the court from\nwhich there is no appeal.  I have often heard of second sight--we have\nmany western Scots in Australia; but I have realised more of its true\ninwardness in an instant of this afternoon than I did in the whole of my\nlife previously--a granite wall stretching up to the very heavens, so\nhigh and so dark that the eye of God Himself cannot see beyond.  Well, if\nthe Doom must come, it must.  That is all.\"\n\nThe voice of Sir Nathaniel broke in, smooth and sweet and grave.\n\n\"Can there not be a fight for it?  There can for most things.\"\n\n\"For most things, yes, but for the Doom, no.  What a man can do I shall\ndo.  There will be--must be--a fight.  When and where and how I know not,\nbut a fight there will be.  But, after all, what is a man in such a\ncase?\"\n\n\"Adam, there are three of us.\"  Salton looked at his old friend as he\nspoke, and that old friend's eyes blazed.\n\n\"Ay, three of us,\" he said, and his voice rang.\n\nThere was again a pause, and Sir Nathaniel endeavoured to get back to\nless emotional and more neutral ground.\n\n\"Tell us of the rest of the meeting.  Remember we are all pledged to\nthis.  It is a fight _a l'outrance_, and we can afford to throw away or\nforgo no chance.\"\n\n\"We shall throw away or lose nothing that we can help.  We fight to win,\nand the stake is a life--perhaps more than one--we shall see.\"  Then he\nwent on in a conversational tone, such as he had used when he spoke of\nthe coming to the farm of Edgar Caswall: \"When Mr. Caswall came in, the\nnegro went a short distance away and there remained.  It gave me the idea\nthat he expected to be called, and intended to remain in sight, or within\nhail.  Then Mimi got another cup and made fresh tea, and we all went on\ntogether.\"\n\n\"Was there anything uncommon--were you all quite friendly?\" asked Sir\nNathaniel quietly.\n\n\"Quite friendly.  There was nothing that I could notice out of the\ncommon--except,\" he went on, with a slight hardening of the voice,\n\"except that he kept his eyes fixed on Lilla, in a way which was quite\nintolerable to any man who might hold her dear.\"\n\n\"Now, in what way did he look?\" asked Sir Nathaniel.\n\n\"There was nothing in itself offensive; but no one could help noticing\nit.\"\n\n\"You did.  Miss Watford herself, who was the victim, and Mr. Caswall, who\nwas the offender, are out of range as witnesses.  Was there anyone else\nwho noticed?\"\n\n\"Mimi did.  Her face flamed with anger as she saw the look.\"\n\n\"What kind of look was it?  Over-ardent or too admiring, or what?  Was it\nthe look of a lover, or one who fain would be?  You understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I quite understand.  Anything of that sort I should of course\nnotice.  It would be part of my preparation for keeping my\nself-control--to which I am pledged.\"\n\n\"If it were not amatory, was it threatening?  Where was the offence?\"\n\nAdam smiled kindly at the old man.\n\n\"It was not amatory.  Even if it was, such was to be expected.  I should\nbe the last man in the world to object, since I am myself an offender in\nthat respect.  Moreover, not only have I been taught to fight fair, but\nby nature I believe I am just.  I would be as tolerant of and as liberal\nto a rival as I should expect him to be to me.  No, the look I mean was\nnothing of that kind.  And so long as it did not lack proper respect, I\nshould not of my own part condescend to notice it.  Did you ever study\nthe eyes of a hound?\"\n\n\"At rest?\"\n\n\"No, when he is following his instincts!  Or, better still,\" Adam went\non, \"the eyes of a bird of prey when he is following his instincts.  Not\nwhen he is swooping, but merely when he is watching his quarry?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Sir Nathaniel, \"I don't know that I ever did.  Why, may I\nask?\"\n\n\"That was the look.  Certainly not amatory or anything of that kind--yet\nit was, it struck me, more dangerous, if not so deadly as an actual\nthreatening.\"\n\nAgain there was a silence, which Sir Nathaniel broke as he stood up:\n\n\"I think it would be well if we all thought over this by ourselves.  Then\nwe can renew the subject.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII--OOLANGA\n\n\nMr. Salton had an appointment for six o'clock at Liverpool.  When he had\ndriven off, Sir Nathaniel took Adam by the arm.\n\n\"May I come with you for a while to your study?  I want to speak to you\nprivately without your uncle knowing about it, or even what the subject\nis.  You don't mind, do you?  It is not idle curiosity.  No, no.  It is\non the subject to which we are all committed.\"\n\n\"Is it necessary to keep my uncle in the dark about it?  He might be\noffended.\"\n\n\"It is not necessary; but it is advisable.  It is for his sake that I\nasked.  My friend is an old man, and it might concern him unduly--even\nalarm him.  I promise you there shall be nothing that could cause him\nanxiety in our silence, or at which he could take umbrage.\"\n\n\"Go on, sir!\" said Adam simply.\n\n\"You see, your uncle is now an old man.  I know it, for we were boys\ntogether.  He has led an uneventful and somewhat self-contained life, so\nthat any such condition of things as has now arisen is apt to perplex him\nfrom its very strangeness.  In fact, any new matter is trying to old\npeople.  It has its own disturbances and its own anxieties, and neither\nof these things are good for lives that should be restful.  Your uncle is\na strong man, with a very happy and placid nature.  Given health and\nordinary conditions of life, there is no reason why he should not live to\nbe a hundred.  You and I, therefore, who both love him, though in\ndifferent ways, should make it our business to protect him from all\ndisturbing influences.  I am sure you will agree with me that any labour\nto this end would be well spent.  All right, my boy!  I see your answer\nin your eyes; so we need say no more of that.  And now,\" here his voice\nchanged, \"tell me all that took place at that interview.  There are\nstrange things in front of us--how strange we cannot at present even\nguess.  Doubtless some of the difficult things to understand which lie\nbehind the veil will in time be shown to us to see and to understand.  In\nthe meantime, all we can do is to work patiently, fearlessly, and\nunselfishly, to an end that we think is right.  You had got so far as\nwhere Lilla opened the door to Mr. Caswall and the negro.  You also\nobserved that Mimi was disturbed in her mind at the way Mr. Caswall\nlooked at her cousin.\"\n\n\"Certainly--though 'disturbed' is a poor way of expressing her\nobjection.\"\n\n\"Can you remember well enough to describe Caswall's eyes, and how Lilla\nlooked, and what Mimi said and did?  Also Oolanga, Caswall's West African\nservant.\"\n\n\"I'll do what I can, sir.  All the time Mr. Caswall was staring, he kept\nhis eyes fixed and motionless--but not as if he was in a trance.  His\nforehead was wrinkled up, as it is when one is trying to see through or\ninto something.  At the best of times his face has not a gentle\nexpression; but when it was screwed up like that it was almost\ndiabolical.  It frightened poor Lilla so that she trembled, and after a\nbit got so pale that I thought she had fainted.  However, she held up and\ntried to stare back, but in a feeble kind of way.  Then Mimi came close\nand held her hand.  That braced her up, and--still, never ceasing her\nreturn stare--she got colour again and seemed more like herself.\"\n\n\"Did he stare too?\"\n\n\"More than ever.  The weaker Lilla seemed, the stronger he became, just\nas if he were feeding on her strength.  All at once she turned round,\nthrew up her hands, and fell down in a faint.  I could not see what else\nhappened just then, for Mimi had thrown herself on her knees beside her\nand hid her from me.  Then there was something like a black shadow\nbetween us, and there was the nigger, looking more like a malignant devil\nthan ever.  I am not usually a patient man, and the sight of that ugly\ndevil is enough to make one's blood boil.  When he saw my face, he seemed\nto realise danger--immediate danger--and slunk out of the room as\nnoiselessly as if he had been blown out.  I learned one thing, however--he\nis an enemy, if ever a man had one.\"\n\n\"That still leaves us three to two!\" put in Sir Nathaniel.\n\n\"Then Caswall slunk out, much as the nigger had done.  When he had gone,\nLilla recovered at once.\"\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Nathaniel, anxious to restore peace, \"have you found out\nanything yet regarding the negro?  I am anxious to be posted regarding\nhim.  I fear there will be, or may be, grave trouble with him.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I've heard a good deal about him--of course it is not\nofficial; but hearsay must guide us at first.  You know my man\nDavenport--private secretary, confidential man of business, and general\nfactotum.  He is devoted to me, and has my full confidence.  I asked him\nto stay on board the _West African_ and have a good look round, and find\nout what he could about Mr. Caswall.  Naturally, he was struck with the\naboriginal savage.  He found one of the ship's stewards, who had been on\nthe regular voyages to South Africa.  He knew Oolanga and had made a\nstudy of him.  He is a man who gets on well with niggers, and they open\ntheir hearts to him.  It seems that this Oolanga is quite a great person\nin the nigger world of the African West Coast.  He has the two things\nwhich men of his own colour respect: he can make them afraid, and he is\nlavish with money.  I don't know whose money--but that does not matter.\nThey are always ready to trumpet his greatness.  Evil greatness it is--but\nneither does that matter.  Briefly, this is his history.  He was\noriginally a witch-finder--about as low an occupation as exists amongst\naboriginal savages.  Then he got up in the world and became an Obi-man,\nwhich gives an opportunity to wealth _via_ blackmail.  Finally, he\nreached the highest honour in hellish service.  He became a user of\nVoodoo, which seems to be a service of the utmost baseness and cruelty.  I\nwas told some of his deeds of cruelty, which are simply sickening.  They\nmade me long for an opportunity of helping to drive him back to hell.  You\nmight think to look at him that you could measure in some way the extent\nof his vileness; but it would be a vain hope.  Monsters such as he is\nbelong to an earlier and more rudimentary stage of barbarism.  He is in\nhis way a clever fellow--for a nigger; but is none the less dangerous or\nthe less hateful for that.  The men in the ship told me that he was a\ncollector: some of them had seen his collections.  Such collections!  All\nthat was potent for evil in bird or beast, or even in fish.  Beaks that\ncould break and rend and tear--all the birds represented were of a\npredatory kind.  Even the fishes are those which are born to destroy, to\nwound, to torture.  The collection, I assure you, was an object lesson in\nhuman malignity.  This being has enough evil in his face to frighten even\na strong man.  It is little wonder that the sight of it put that poor\ngirl into a dead faint!\"\n\nNothing more could be done at the moment, so they separated.\n\nAdam was up in the early morning and took a smart walk round the Brow.  As\nhe was passing Diana's Grove, he looked in on the short avenue of trees,\nand noticed the snakes killed on the previous morning by the mongoose.\nThey all lay in a row, straight and rigid, as if they had been placed by\nhands.  Their skins seemed damp and sticky, and they were covered all\nover with ants and other insects.  They looked loathsome, so after a\nglance, he passed on.\n\nA little later, when his steps took him, naturally enough, past the\nentrance to Mercy Farm, he was passed by the negro, moving quickly under\nthe trees wherever there was shadow.  Laid across one extended arm,\nlooking like dirty towels across a rail, he had the horrid-looking\nsnakes.  He did not seem to see Adam.  No one was to be seen at Mercy\nexcept a few workmen in the farmyard, so, after waiting on the chance of\nseeing Mimi, Adam began to go slowly home.\n\nOnce more he was passed on the way.  This time it was by Lady Arabella,\nwalking hurriedly and so furiously angry that she did not recognise him,\neven to the extent of acknowledging his bow.\n\nWhen Adam got back to Lesser Hill, he went to the coach-house where the\nbox with the mongoose was kept, and took it with him, intending to finish\nat the Mound of Stone what he had begun the previous morning with regard\nto the extermination.  He found that the snakes were even more easily\nattacked than on the previous day; no less than six were killed in the\nfirst half-hour.  As no more appeared, he took it for granted that the\nmorning's work was over, and went towards home.  The mongoose had by this\ntime become accustomed to him, and was willing to let himself be handled\nfreely.  Adam lifted him up and put him on his shoulder and walked on.\nPresently he saw a lady advancing towards him, and recognised Lady\nArabella.\n\nHitherto the mongoose had been quiet, like a playful affectionate kitten;\nbut when the two got close, Adam was horrified to see the mongoose, in a\nstate of the wildest fury, with every hair standing on end, jump from his\nshoulder and run towards Lady Arabella.  It looked so furious and so\nintent on attack that he called a warning.\n\n\"Look out--look out!  The animal is furious and means to attack.\"\n\nLady Arabella looked more than ever disdainful and was passing on; the\nmongoose jumped at her in a furious attack.  Adam rushed forward with his\nstick, the only weapon he had.  But just as he got within striking\ndistance, the lady drew out a revolver and shot the animal, breaking his\nbackbone.  Not satisfied with this, she poured shot after shot into him\ntill the magazine was exhausted.  There was no coolness or hauteur about\nher now; she seemed more furious even than the animal, her face\ntransformed with hate, and as determined to kill as he had appeared to\nbe.  Adam, not knowing exactly what to do, lifted his hat in apology and\nhurried on to Lesser Hill.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII--SURVIVALS\n\n\nAt breakfast Sir Nathaniel noticed that Adam was put out about something,\nbut he said nothing.  The lesson of silence is better remembered in age\nthan in youth.  When they were both in the study, where Sir Nathaniel\nfollowed him, Adam at once began to tell his companion of what had\nhappened.  Sir Nathaniel looked graver and graver as the narration\nproceeded, and when Adam had stopped he remained silent for several\nminutes, before speaking.\n\n\"This is very grave.  I have not formed any opinion yet; but it seems to\nme at first impression that this is worse than anything I had expected.\"\n\n\"Why, sir?\" said Adam.  \"Is the killing of a mongoose--no matter by\nwhom--so serious a thing as all that?\"\n\nHis companion smoked on quietly for quite another few minutes before he\nspoke.\n\n\"When I have properly thought it over I may moderate my opinion, but in\nthe meantime it seems to me that there is something dreadful behind all\nthis--something that may affect all our lives--that may mean the issue of\nlife or death to any of us.\"\n\nAdam sat up quickly.\n\n\"Do tell me, sir, what is in your mind--if, of course, you have no\nobjection, or do not think it better to withhold it.\"\n\n\"I have no objection, Adam--in fact, if I had, I should have to overcome\nit.  I fear there can be no more reserved thoughts between us.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir, that sounds serious, worse than serious!\"\n\n\"Adam, I greatly fear that the time has come for us--for you and me, at\nall events--to speak out plainly to one another.  Does not there seem\nsomething very mysterious about this?\"\n\n\"I have thought so, sir, all along.  The only difficulty one has is what\none is to think and where to begin.\"\n\n\"Let us begin with what you have told me.  First take the conduct of the\nmongoose.  He was quiet, even friendly and affectionate with you.  He\nonly attacked the snakes, which is, after all, his business in life.\"\n\n\"That is so!\"\n\n\"Then we must try to find some reason why he attacked Lady Arabella.\"\n\n\"May it not be that a mongoose may have merely the instinct to attack,\nthat nature does not allow or provide him with the fine reasoning powers\nto discriminate who he is to attack?\"\n\n\"Of course that may be so.  But, on the other hand, should we not satisfy\nourselves why he does wish to attack anything?  If for centuries, this\nparticular animal is known to attack only one kind of other animal, are\nwe not justified in assuming that when one of them attacks a hitherto\nunclassed animal, he recognises in that animal some quality which it has\nin common with the hereditary enemy?\"\n\n\"That is a good argument, sir,\" Adam went on, \"but a dangerous one.  If\nwe followed it out, it would lead us to believe that Lady Arabella is a\nsnake.\"\n\n\"We must be sure, before going to such an end, that there is no point as\nyet unconsidered which would account for the unknown thing which puzzles\nus.\"\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\n\"Well, suppose the instinct works on some physical basis--for instance,\nsmell.  If there were anything in recent juxtaposition to the attacked\nwhich would carry the scent, surely that would supply the missing cause.\"\n\n\"Of course!\" Adam spoke with conviction.\n\n\"Now, from what you tell me, the negro had just come from the direction\nof Diana's Grove, carrying the dead snakes which the mongoose had killed\nthe previous morning.  Might not the scent have been carried that way?\"\n\n\"Of course it might, and probably was.  I never thought of that.  Is\nthere any possible way of guessing approximately how long a scent will\nremain?  You see, this is a natural scent, and may derive from a place\nwhere it has been effective for thousands of years.  Then, does a scent\nof any kind carry with it any form or quality of another kind, either\ngood or evil?  I ask you because one ancient name of the house lived in\nby the lady who was attacked by the mongoose was 'The Lair of the White\nWorm.'  If any of these things be so, our difficulties have multiplied\nindefinitely.  They may even change in kind.  We may get into moral\nentanglements; before we know it, we may be in the midst of a struggle\nbetween good and evil.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel smiled gravely.\n\n\"With regard to the first question--so far as I know, there are no fixed\nperiods for which a scent may be active--I think we may take it that that\nperiod does not run into thousands of years.  As to whether any moral\nchange accompanies a physical one, I can only say that I have met no\nproof of the fact.  At the same time, we must remember that 'good' and\n'evil' are terms so wide as to take in the whole scheme of creation, and\nall that is implied by them and by their mutual action and reaction.\nGenerally, I would say that in the scheme of a First Cause anything is\npossible.  So long as the inherent forces or tendencies of any one thing\nare veiled from us we must expect mystery.\"\n\n\"There is one other question on which I should like to ask your opinion.\nSuppose that there are any permanent forces appertaining to the past,\nwhat we may call 'survivals,' do these belong to good as well as to evil?\nFor instance, if the scent of the primaeval monster can so remain in\nproportion to the original strength, can the same be true of things of\ngood import?\"\n\nSir Nathaniel thought for a while before he answered.\n\n\"We must be careful not to confuse the physical and the moral.  I can see\nthat already you have switched on the moral entirely, so perhaps we had\nbetter follow it up first.  On the side of the moral, we have certain\njustification for belief in the utterances of revealed religion.  For\ninstance, 'the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much'\nis altogether for good.  We have nothing of a similar kind on the side of\nevil.  But if we accept this dictum we need have no more fear of\n'mysteries': these become thenceforth merely obstacles.\"\n\nAdam suddenly changed to another phase of the subject.\n\n\"And now, sir, may I turn for a few minutes to purely practical things,\nor rather to matters of historical fact?\"\n\nSir Nathaniel bowed acquiescence.\n\n\"We have already spoken of the history, so far as it is known, of some of\nthe places round us--'Castra Regis,' 'Diana's Grove,' and 'The Lair of\nthe White Worm.'  I would like to ask if there is anything not\nnecessarily of evil import about any of the places?\"\n\n\"Which?\" asked Sir Nathaniel shrewdly.\n\n\"Well, for instance, this house and Mercy Farm?\"\n\n\"Here we turn,\" said Sir Nathaniel, \"to the other side, the light side of\nthings.  Let us take Mercy Farm first.  When Augustine was sent by Pope\nGregory to Christianise England, in the time of the Romans, he was\nreceived and protected by Ethelbert, King of Kent, whose wife, daughter\nof Charibert, King of Paris, was a Christian, and did much for Augustine.\nShe founded a nunnery in memory of Columba, which was named _Sedes\nmisericordioe_, the House of Mercy, and, as the region was Mercian, the\ntwo names became involved.  As Columba is the Latin for dove, the dove\nbecame a sort of signification of the nunnery.  She seized on the idea\nand made the newly-founded nunnery a house of doves.  Someone sent her a\nfreshly-discovered dove, a sort of carrier, but which had in the white\nfeathers of its head and neck the form of a religious cowl.  The nunnery\nflourished for more than a century, when, in the time of Penda, who was\nthe reactionary of heathendom, it fell into decay.  In the meantime the\ndoves, protected by religious feeling, had increased mightily, and were\nknown in all Catholic communities.  When King Offa ruled in Mercia, about\na hundred and fifty years later, he restored Christianity, and under its\nprotection the nunnery of St. Columba was restored and its doves\nflourished again.  In process of time this religious house again fell\ninto desuetude; but before it disappeared it had achieved a great name\nfor good works, and in especial for the piety of its members.  If deeds\nand prayers and hopes and earnest thinking leave anywhere any moral\neffect, Mercy Farm and all around it have almost the right to be\nconsidered holy ground.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" said Adam earnestly, and was silent.  Sir Nathaniel\nunderstood.\n\nAfter lunch that day, Adam casually asked Sir Nathaniel to come for a\nwalk with him.  The keen-witted old diplomatist guessed that there must\nbe some motive behind the suggestion, and he at once agreed.\n\nAs soon as they were free from observation, Adam began.\n\n\"I am afraid, sir, that there is more going on in this neighbourhood than\nmost people imagine.  I was out this morning, and on the edge of the\nsmall wood, I came upon the body of a child by the roadside.  At first, I\nthought she was dead, and while examining her, I noticed on her neck some\nmarks that looked like those of teeth.\"\n\n\"Some wild dog, perhaps?\" put in Sir Nathaniel.\n\n\"Possibly, sir, though I think not--but listen to the rest of my news.  I\nglanced around, and to my surprise, I noticed something white moving\namong the trees.  I placed the child down carefully, and followed, but I\ncould not find any further traces.  So I returned to the child and\nresumed my examination, and, to my delight, I discovered that she was\nstill alive.  I chafed her hands and gradually she revived, but to my\ndisappointment she remembered nothing--except that something had crept up\nquietly from behind, and had gripped her round the throat.  Then,\napparently, she fainted.\"\n\n\"Gripped her round the throat!  Then it cannot have been a dog.\"\n\n\"No, sir, that is my difficulty, and explains why I brought you out here,\nwhere we cannot possibly be overheard.  You have noticed, of course, the\npeculiar sinuous way in which Lady Arabella moves--well, I feel certain\nthat the white thing that I saw in the wood was the mistress of Diana's\nGrove!\"\n\n\"Good God, boy, be careful what you say.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I fully realise the gravity of my accusation, but I feel\nconvinced that the marks on the child's throat were human--and made by a\nwoman.\"\n\nAdam's companion remained silent for some time, deep in thought.\n\n\"Adam, my boy,\" he said at last, \"this matter appears to me to be far\nmore serious even than you think.  It forces me to break confidence with\nmy old friend, your uncle--but, in order to spare him, I must do so.  For\nsome time now, things have been happening in this district that have been\nworrying him dreadfully--several people have disappeared, without leaving\nthe slightest trace; a dead child was found by the roadside, with no\nvisible or ascertainable cause of death--sheep and other animals have\nbeen found in the fields, bleeding from open wounds.  There have been\nother matters--many of them apparently trivial in themselves.  Some\nsinister influence has been at work, and I admit that I have suspected\nLady Arabella--that is why I questioned you so closely about the mongoose\nand its strange attack upon Lady Arabella.  You will think it strange\nthat I should suspect the mistress of Diana's Grove, a beautiful woman of\naristocratic birth.  Let me explain--the family seat is near my own\nplace, Doom Tower, and at one time I knew the family well.  When still a\nyoung girl, Lady Arabella wandered into a small wood near her home, and\ndid not return.  She was found unconscious and in a high fever--the\ndoctor said that she had received a poisonous bite, and the girl being at\na delicate and critical age, the result was serious--so much so that she\nwas not expected to recover.  A great London physician came down but\ncould do nothing--indeed, he said that the girl would not survive the\nnight.  All hope had been abandoned, when, to everyone's surprise, Lady\nArabella made a sudden and startling recovery.  Within a couple of days\nshe was going about as usual!  But to the horror of her people, she\ndeveloped a terrible craving for cruelty, maiming and injuring birds and\nsmall animals--even killing them.  This was put down to a nervous\ndisturbance due to her age, and it was hoped that her marriage to Captain\nMarch would put this right.  However, it was not a happy marriage, and\neventually her husband was found shot through the head.  I have always\nsuspected suicide, though no pistol was found near the body.  He may have\ndiscovered something--God knows what!--so possibly Lady Arabella may\nherself have killed him.  Putting together many small matters that have\ncome to my knowledge, I have come to the conclusion that the foul White\nWorm obtained control of her body, just as her soul was leaving its\nearthly tenement--that would explain the sudden revival of energy, the\nstrange and inexplicable craving for maiming and killing, as well as many\nother matters with which I need not trouble you now, Adam.  As I said\njust now, God alone knows what poor Captain March discovered--it must\nhave been something too ghastly for human endurance, if my theory is\ncorrect that the once beautiful human body of Lady Arabella is under the\ncontrol of this ghastly White Worm.\"\n\nAdam nodded.\n\n\"But what can we do, sir--it seems a most difficult problem.\"\n\n\"We can do nothing, my boy--that is the important part of it.  It would\nbe impossible to take action--all we can do is to keep careful watch,\nespecially as regards Lady Arabella, and be ready to act, promptly and\ndecisively, if the opportunity occurs.\"\n\nAdam agreed, and the two men returned to Lesser Hill.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX--SMELLING DEATH\n\n\nAdam Salton, though he talked little, did not let the grass grow under\nhis feet in any matter which he had undertaken, or in which he was\ninterested.  He had agreed with Sir Nathaniel that they should not do\nanything with regard to the mystery of Lady Arabella's fear of the\nmongoose, but he steadily pursued his course in being _prepared_ to act\nwhenever the opportunity might come.  He was in his own mind perpetually\ncasting about for information or clues which might lead to possible lines\nof action.  Baffled by the killing of the mongoose, he looked around for\nanother line to follow.  He was fascinated by the idea of there being a\nmysterious link between the woman and the animal, but he was already\npreparing a second string to his bow.  His new idea was to use the\nfaculties of Oolanga, so far as he could, in the service of discovery.\nHis first move was to send Davenport to Liverpool to try to find the\nsteward of the _West African_, who had told him about Oolanga, and if\npossible secure any further information, and then try to induce (by\nbribery or other means) the nigger to come to the Brow.  So soon as he\nhimself could have speech of the Voodoo-man he would be able to learn\nfrom him something useful.  Davenport was successful in his missions, for\nhe had to get another mongoose, and he was able to tell Adam that he had\nseen the steward, who told him much that he wanted to know, and had also\narranged for Oolanga to come to Lesser Hill the following day.  At this\npoint Adam saw his way sufficiently clear to admit Davenport to some\nextent into his confidence.  He had come to the conclusion that it would\nbe better--certainly at first--not himself to appear in the matter, with\nwhich Davenport was fully competent to deal.  It would be time for\nhimself to take a personal part when matters had advanced a little\nfurther.\n\nIf what the nigger said was in any wise true, the man had a rare gift\nwhich might be useful in the quest they were after.  He could, as it\nwere, \"smell death.\"  If any one was dead, if any one had died, or if a\nplace had been used in connection with death, he seemed to know the broad\nfact by intuition.  Adam made up his mind that to test this faculty with\nregard to several places would be his first task.  Naturally he was\nanxious, and the time passed slowly.  The only comfort was the arrival\nthe next morning of a strong packing case, locked, from Ross, the key\nbeing in the custody of Davenport.  In the case were two smaller boxes,\nboth locked.  One of them contained a mongoose to replace that killed by\nLady Arabella; the other was the special mongoose which had already\nkilled the king-cobra in Nepaul.  When both the animals had been safely\nput under lock and key, he felt that he might breathe more freely.  No\none was allowed to know the secret of their existence in the house,\nexcept himself and Davenport.  He arranged that Davenport should take\nOolanga round the neighbourhood for a walk, stopping at each of the\nplaces which he designated.  Having gone all along the Brow, he was to\nreturn the same way and induce him to touch on the same subjects in\ntalking with Adam, who was to meet them as if by chance at the farthest\npart--that beyond Mercy Farm.\n\nThe incidents of the day proved much as Adam expected.  At Mercy Farm, at\nDiana's Grove, at Castra Regis, and a few other spots, the negro stopped\nand, opening his wide nostrils as if to sniff boldly, said that he\nsmelled death.  It was not always in the same form.  At Mercy Farm he\nsaid there were many small deaths.  At Diana's Grove his bearing was\ndifferent.  There was a distinct sense of enjoyment about him, especially\nwhen he spoke of many great deaths.  Here, too, he sniffed in a strange\nway, like a bloodhound at check, and looked puzzled.  He said no word in\neither praise or disparagement, but in the centre of the Grove, where,\nhidden amongst ancient oak stumps, was a block of granite slightly\nhollowed on the top, he bent low and placed his forehead on the ground.\nThis was the only place where he showed distinct reverence.  At the\nCastle, though he spoke of much death, he showed no sign of respect.\n\nThere was evidently something about Diana's Grove which both interested\nand baffled him.  Before leaving, he moved all over the place\nunsatisfied, and in one spot, close to the edge of the Brow, where there\nwas a deep hollow, he appeared to be afraid.  After returning several\ntimes to this place, he suddenly turned and ran in a panic of fear to the\nhigher ground, crossing as he did so the outcropping rock.  Then he\nseemed to breathe more freely, and recovered some of his jaunty\nimpudence.\n\nAll this seemed to satisfy Adam's expectations.  He went back to Lesser\nHill with a serene and settled calm upon him.  Sir Nathaniel followed him\ninto his study.\n\n\"By the way, I forgot to ask you details about one thing.  When that\nextraordinary staring episode of Mr. Caswall went on, how did Lilla take\nit--how did she bear herself?\"\n\n\"She looked frightened, and trembled just as I have seen a pigeon with a\nhawk, or a bird with a serpent.\"\n\n\"Thanks.  It is just as I expected.  There have been circumstances in the\nCaswall family which lead one to believe that they have had from the\nearliest times some extraordinary mesmeric or hypnotic faculty.  Indeed,\na skilled eye could read so much in their physiognomy.  That shot of\nyours, whether by instinct or intention, of the hawk and the pigeon was\npeculiarly apposite.  I think we may settle on that as a fixed trait to\nbe accepted throughout our investigation.\"\n\nWhen dusk had fallen, Adam took the new mongoose--not the one from\nNepaul--and, carrying the box slung over his shoulder, strolled towards\nDiana's Grove.  Close to the gateway he met Lady Arabella, clad as usual\nin tightly fitting white, which showed off her slim figure.\n\nTo his intense astonishment the mongoose allowed her to pet him, take him\nup in her arms and fondle him.  As she was going in his direction, they\nwalked on together.\n\nRound the roadway between the entrances of Diana's Grove and Lesser Hill\nwere many trees, with not much foliage except at the top.  In the dusk\nthis place was shadowy, and the view was hampered by the clustering\ntrunks.  In the uncertain, tremulous light which fell through the tree-\ntops, it was hard to distinguish anything clearly, and at last, somehow,\nhe lost sight of her altogether, and turned back on his track to find\nher.  Presently he came across her close to her own gate.  She was\nleaning over the paling of split oak branches which formed the paling of\nthe avenue.  He could not see the mongoose, so he asked her where it had\ngone.\n\n\"He slipt out of my arms while I was petting him,\" she answered, \"and\ndisappeared under the hedges.\"\n\nThey found him at a place where the avenue widened so as to let carriages\npass each other.  The little creature seemed quite changed.  He had been\nebulliently active; now he was dull and spiritless--seemed to be dazed.\nHe allowed himself to be lifted by either of the pair; but when he was\nalone with Lady Arabella he kept looking round him in a strange way, as\nthough trying to escape.  When they had come out on the roadway Adam held\nthe mongoose tight to him, and, lifting his hat to his companion, moved\nquickly towards Lesser Hill; he and Lady Arabella lost sight of each\nother in the thickening gloom.\n\nWhen Adam got home, he put the mongoose in his box, and locked the door\nof the room.  The other mongoose--the one from Nepaul--was safely locked\nin his own box, but he lay quiet and did not stir.  When he got to his\nstudy Sir Nathaniel came in, shutting the door behind him.\n\n\"I have come,\" he said, \"while we have an opportunity of being alone, to\ntell you something of the Caswall family which I think will interest you.\nThere is, or used to be, a belief in this part of the world that the\nCaswall family had some strange power of making the wills of other\npersons subservient to their own.  There are many allusions to the\nsubject in memoirs and other unimportant works, but I only know of one\nwhere the subject is spoken of definitely.  It is _Mercia and its\nWorthies_, written by Ezra Toms more than a hundred years ago.  The\nauthor goes into the question of the close association of the then Edgar\nCaswall with Mesmer in Paris.  He speaks of Caswall being a pupil and the\nfellow worker of Mesmer, and states that though, when the latter left\nFrance, he took away with him a vast quantity of philosophical and\nelectric instruments, he was never known to use them again.  He once made\nit known to a friend that he had given them to his old pupil.  The term\nhe used was odd, for it was 'bequeathed,' but no such bequest of Mesmer\nwas ever made known.  At any rate the instruments were missing, and never\nturned up.\"\n\nA servant came into the room to tell Adam that there was some strange\nnoise coming from the locked room into which he had gone when he came in.\nHe hurried off to the place at once, Sir Nathaniel going with him.  Having\nlocked the door behind them, Adam opened the packing-case where the boxes\nof the two mongooses were locked up.  There was no sound from one of\nthem, but from the other a queer restless struggling.  Having opened both\nboxes, he found that the noise was from the Nepaul animal, which,\nhowever, became quiet at once.  In the other box the new mongoose lay\ndead, with every appearance of having been strangled!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X--THE KITE\n\n\nOn the following day, a little after four o'clock, Adam set out for\nMercy.\n\nHe was home just as the clocks were striking six.  He was pale and upset,\nbut otherwise looked strong and alert.  The old man summed up his\nappearance and manner thus: \"Braced up for battle.\"\n\n\"Now!\" said Sir Nathaniel, and settled down to listen, looking at Adam\nsteadily and listening attentively that he might miss nothing--even the\ninflection of a word.\n\n\"I found Lilla and Mimi at home.  Watford had been detained by business\non the farm.  Miss Watford received me as kindly as before; Mimi, too,\nseemed glad to see me.  Mr. Caswall came so soon after I arrived, that\nhe, or someone on his behalf, must have been watching for me.  He was\nfollowed closely by the negro, who was puffing hard as if he had been\nrunning--so it was probably he who watched.  Mr. Caswall was very cool\nand collected, but there was a more than usually iron look about his face\nthat I did not like.  However, we got on very well.  He talked pleasantly\non all sorts of questions.  The nigger waited a while and then\ndisappeared as on the other occasion.  Mr. Caswall's eyes were as usual\nfixed on Lilla.  True, they seemed to be very deep and earnest, but there\nwas no offence in them.  Had it not been for the drawing down of the\nbrows and the stern set of the jaws, I should not at first have noticed\nanything.  But the stare, when presently it began, increased in\nintensity.  I could see that Lilla began to suffer from nervousness, as\non the first occasion; but she carried herself bravely.  However, the\nmore nervous she grew, the harder Mr. Caswall stared.  It was evident to\nme that he had come prepared for some sort of mesmeric or hypnotic\nbattle.  After a while he began to throw glances round him and then\nraised his hand, without letting either Lilla or Mimi see the action.  It\nwas evidently intended to give some sign to the negro, for he came, in\nhis usual stealthy way, quietly in by the hall door, which was open.  Then\nMr. Caswall's efforts at staring became intensified, and poor Lilla's\nnervousness grew greater.  Mimi, seeing that her cousin was distressed,\ncame close to her, as if to comfort or strengthen her with the\nconsciousness of her presence.  This evidently made a difficulty for Mr.\nCaswall, for his efforts, without appearing to get feebler, seemed less\neffective.  This continued for a little while, to the gain of both Lilla\nand Mimi.  Then there was a diversion.  Without word or apology the door\nopened, and Lady Arabella March entered the room.  I had seen her coming\nthrough the great window.  Without a word she crossed the room and stood\nbeside Mr. Caswall.  It really was very like a fight of a peculiar kind;\nand the longer it was sustained the more earnest--the fiercer--it grew.\nThat combination of forces--the over-lord, the white woman, and the black\nman--would have cost some--probably all of them--their lives in the\nSouthern States of America.  To us it was simply horrible.  But all that\nyou can understand.  This time, to go on in sporting phrase, it was\nunderstood by all to be a 'fight to a finish,' and the mixed group did\nnot slacken a moment or relax their efforts.  On Lilla the strain began\nto tell disastrously.  She grew pale--a patchy pallor, which meant that\nher nerves were out of order.  She trembled like an aspen, and though she\nstruggled bravely, I noticed that her legs would hardly support her.  A\ndozen times she seemed about to collapse in a faint, but each time, on\ncatching sight of Mimi's eyes, she made a fresh struggle and pulled\nthrough.\n\n\"By now Mr. Caswall's face had lost its appearance of passivity.  His\neyes glowed with a fiery light.  He was still the old Roman in\ninflexibility of purpose; but grafted on to the Roman was a new Berserker\nfury.  His companions in the baleful work seemed to have taken on\nsomething of his feeling.  Lady Arabella looked like a soulless, pitiless\nbeing, not human, unless it revived old legends of transformed human\nbeings who had lost their humanity in some transformation or in the sweep\nof natural savagery.  As for the negro--well, I can only say that it was\nsolely due to the self-restraint which you impressed on me that I did not\nwipe him out as he stood--without warning, without fair play--without a\nsingle one of the graces of life and death.  Lilla was silent in the\nhelpless concentration of deadly fear; Mimi was all resolve and\nself-forgetfulness, so intent on the soul-struggle in which she was\nengaged that there was no possibility of any other thought.  As for\nmyself, the bonds of will which held me inactive seemed like bands of\nsteel which numbed all my faculties, except sight and hearing.  We seemed\nfixed in an _impasse_.  Something must happen, though the power of\nguessing was inactive.  As in a dream, I saw Mimi's hand move restlessly,\nas if groping for something.  Mechanically it touched that of Lilla, and\nin that instant she was transformed.  It was as if youth and strength\nentered afresh into something already dead to sensibility and intention.\nAs if by inspiration, she grasped the other's band with a force which\nblenched the knuckles.  Her face suddenly flamed, as if some divine light\nshone through it.  Her form expanded till it stood out majestically.\nLifting her right hand, she stepped forward towards Caswall, and with a\nbold sweep of her arm seemed to drive some strange force towards him.\nAgain and again was the gesture repeated, the man falling back from her\nat each movement.  Towards the door he retreated, she following.  There\nwas a sound as of the cooing sob of doves, which seemed to multiply and\nintensify with each second.  The sound from the unseen source rose and\nrose as he retreated, till finally it swelled out in a triumphant peal,\nas she with a fierce sweep of her arm, seemed to hurl something at her\nfoe, and he, moving his hands blindly before his face, appeared to be\nswept through the doorway and out into the open sunlight.\n\n\"All at once my own faculties were fully restored; I could see and hear\neverything, and be fully conscious of what was going on.  Even the\nfigures of the baleful group were there, though dimly seen as through a\nveil--a shadowy veil.  I saw Lilla sink down in a swoon, and Mimi throw\nup her arms in a gesture of triumph.  As I saw her through the great\nwindow, the sunshine flooded the landscape, which, however, was\nmomentarily becoming eclipsed by an onrush of a myriad birds.\"\n\nBy the next morning, daylight showed the actual danger which threatened.\nFrom every part of the eastern counties reports were received concerning\nthe enormous immigration of birds.  Experts were sending--on their own\naccount, on behalf of learned societies, and through local and imperial\ngoverning bodies--reports dealing with the matter, and suggesting\nremedies.\n\nThe reports closer to home were even more disturbing.  All day long it\nwould seem that the birds were coming thicker from all quarters.\nDoubtless many were going as well as coming, but the mass seemed never to\nget less.  Each bird seemed to sound some note of fear or anger or\nseeking, and the whirring of wings never ceased nor lessened.  The air\nwas full of a muttered throb.  No window or barrier could shut out the\nsound, till the ears of any listener became dulled by the ceaseless\nmurmur.  So monotonous it was, so cheerless, so disheartening, so\nmelancholy, that all longed, but in vain, for any variety, no matter how\nterrible it might be.\n\nThe second morning the reports from all the districts round were more\nalarming than ever.  Farmers began to dread the coming of winter as they\nsaw the dwindling of the timely fruitfulness of the earth.  And as yet it\nwas only a warning of evil, not the evil accomplished; the ground began\nto look bare whenever some passing sound temporarily frightened the\nbirds.\n\nEdgar Caswall tortured his brain for a long time unavailingly, to think\nof some means of getting rid of what he, as well as his neighbours, had\ncome to regard as a plague of birds.  At last he recalled a circumstance\nwhich promised a solution of the difficulty.  The experience was of some\nyears ago in China, far up-country, towards the head-waters of the Yang-\ntze-kiang, where the smaller tributaries spread out in a sort of natural\nirrigation scheme to supply the wilderness of paddy-fields.  It was at\nthe time of the ripening rice, and the myriads of birds which came to\nfeed on the coming crop was a serious menace, not only to the district,\nbut to the country at large.  The farmers, who were more or less\nafflicted with the same trouble every season, knew how to deal with it.\nThey made a vast kite, which they caused to be flown over the centre spot\nof the incursion.  The kite was shaped like a great hawk; and the moment\nit rose into the air the birds began to cower and seek protection--and\nthen to disappear.  So long as that kite was flying overhead the birds\nlay low and the crop was saved.  Accordingly Caswall ordered his men to\nconstruct an immense kite, adhering as well as they could to the lines of\na hawk.  Then he and his men, with a sufficiency of cord, began to fly it\nhigh overhead.  The experience of China was repeated.  The moment the\nkite rose, the birds hid or sought shelter.  The following morning, the\nkite was still flying high, no bird was to be seen as far as the eye\ncould reach from Castra Regis.  But there followed in turn what proved\neven a worse evil.  All the birds were cowed; their sounds stopped.\nNeither song nor chirp was heard--silence seemed to have taken the place\nof the normal voices of bird life.  But that was not all.  The silence\nspread to all animals.\n\nThe fear and restraint which brooded amongst the denizens of the air\nbegan to affect all life.  Not only did the birds cease song or chirp,\nbut the lowing of the cattle ceased in the fields and the varied sounds\nof life died away.  In place of these things was only a soundless gloom,\nmore dreadful, more disheartening, more soul-killing than any concourse\nof sounds, no matter how full of fear and dread.  Pious individuals put\nup constant prayers for relief from the intolerable solitude.  After a\nlittle there were signs of universal depression which those who ran might\nread.  One and all, the faces of men and women seemed bereft of vitality,\nof interest, of thought, and, most of all, of hope.  Men seemed to have\nlost the power of expression of their thoughts.  The soundless air seemed\nto have the same effect as the universal darkness when men gnawed their\ntongues with pain.\n\nFrom this infliction of silence there was no relief.  Everything was\naffected; gloom was the predominant note.  Joy appeared to have passed\naway as a factor of life, and this creative impulse had nothing to take\nits place.  That giant spot in high air was a plague of evil influence.\nIt seemed like a new misanthropic belief which had fallen on human\nbeings, carrying with it the negation of all hope.\n\nAfter a few days, men began to grow desperate; their very words as well\nas their senses seemed to be in chains.  Edgar Caswall again tortured his\nbrain to find any antidote or palliative of this greater evil than\nbefore.  He would gladly have destroyed the kite, or caused its flying to\ncease; but the instant it was pulled down, the birds rose up in even\ngreater numbers; all those who depended in any way on agriculture sent\npitiful protests to Castra Regis.\n\nIt was strange indeed what influence that weird kite seemed to exercise.\nEven human beings were affected by it, as if both it and they were\nrealities.  As for the people at Mercy Farm, it was like a taste of\nactual death.  Lilla felt it most.  If she had been indeed a real dove,\nwith a real kite hanging over her in the air, she could not have been\nmore frightened or more affected by the terror this created.\n\nOf course, some of those already drawn into the vortex noticed the effect\non individuals.  Those who were interested took care to compare their\ninformation.  Strangely enough, as it seemed to the others, the person\nwho took the ghastly silence least to heart was the negro.  By nature he\nwas not sensitive to, or afflicted by, nerves.  This alone would not have\nproduced the seeming indifference, so they set their minds to discover\nthe real cause.  Adam came quickly to the conclusion that there was for\nhim some compensation that the others did not share; and he soon believed\nthat that compensation was in one form or another the enjoyment of the\nsufferings of others.  Thus the black had a never-failing source of\namusement.\n\nLady Arabella's cold nature rendered her immune to anything in the way of\npain or trouble concerning others.  Edgar Caswall was far too haughty a\nperson, and too stern of nature, to concern himself about poor or\nhelpless people, much less the lower order of mere animals.  Mr. Watford,\nMr. Salton, and Sir Nathaniel were all concerned in the issue, partly\nfrom kindness of heart--for none of them could see suffering, even of\nwild birds, unmoved--and partly on account of their property, which had\nto be protected, or ruin would stare them in the face before long.\n\nLilla suffered acutely.  As time went on, her face became pinched, and\nher eyes dull with watching and crying.  Mimi suffered too on account of\nher cousin's suffering.  But as she could do nothing, she resolutely made\nup her mind to self-restraint and patience.  Adam's frequent visits\ncomforted her.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI--MESMER'S CHEST\n\n\nAfter a couple of weeks had passed, the kite seemed to give Edgar Caswall\na new zest for life.  He was never tired of looking at its movements.  He\nhad a comfortable armchair put out on the tower, wherein he sat sometimes\nall day long, watching as though the kite was a new toy and he a child\nlately come into possession of it.  He did not seem to have lost interest\nin Lilla, for he still paid an occasional visit at Mercy Farm.\n\nIndeed, his feeling towards her, whatever it had been at first, had now\nso far changed that it had become a distinct affection of a purely animal\nkind.  Indeed, it seemed as though the man's nature had become corrupted,\nand that all the baser and more selfish and more reckless qualities had\nbecome more conspicuous.  There was not so much sternness apparent in his\nnature, because there was less self-restraint.  Determination had become\nindifference.\n\nThe visible change in Edgar was that he grew morbid, sad, silent; the\nneighbours thought he was going mad.  He became absorbed in the kite, and\nwatched it not only by day, but often all night long.  It became an\nobsession to him.\n\nCaswall took a personal interest in the keeping of the great kite flying.\nHe had a vast coil of cord efficient for the purpose, which worked on a\nroller fixed on the parapet of the tower.  There was a winch for the\npulling in of the slack; the outgoing line being controlled by a racket.\nThere was invariably one man at least, day and night, on the tower to\nattend to it.  At such an elevation there was always a strong wind, and\nat times the kite rose to an enormous height, as well as travelling for\ngreat distances laterally.  In fact, the kite became, in a short time,\none of the curiosities of Castra Regis and all around it.  Edgar began to\nattribute to it, in his own mind, almost human qualities.  It became to\nhim a separate entity, with a mind and a soul of its own.  Being idle-\nhanded all day, he began to apply to what he considered the service of\nthe kite some of his spare time, and found a new pleasure--a new object\nin life--in the old schoolboy game of sending up \"runners\" to the kite.\nThe way this is done is to get round pieces of paper so cut that there is\na hole in the centre, through which the string of the kite passes.  The\nnatural action of the wind-pressure takes the paper along the string, and\nso up to the kite itself, no matter how high or how far it may have gone.\n\nIn the early days of this amusement Edgar Caswall spent hours.  Hundreds\nof such messengers flew along the string, until soon he bethought him of\nwriting messages on these papers so that he could make known his ideas to\nthe kite.  It may be that his brain gave way under the opportunities\ngiven by his illusion of the entity of the toy and its power of separate\nthought.  From sending messages he came to making direct speech to the\nkite--without, however, ceasing to send the runners.  Doubtless, the\nheight of the tower, seated as it was on the hill-top, the rushing of the\nceaseless wind, the hypnotic effect of the lofty altitude of the speck in\nthe sky at which he gazed, and the rushing of the paper messengers up the\nstring till sight of them was lost in distance, all helped to further\naffect his brain, undoubtedly giving way under the strain of beliefs and\ncircumstances which were at once stimulating to the imagination,\noccupative of his mind, and absorbing.\n\nThe next step of intellectual decline was to bring to bear on the main\nidea of the conscious identity of the kite all sorts of subjects which\nhad imaginative force or tendency of their own.  He had, in Castra Regis,\na large collection of curious and interesting things formed in the past\nby his forebears, of similar tastes to his own.  There were all sorts of\nstrange anthropological specimens, both old and new, which had been\ncollected through various travels in strange places: ancient Egyptian\nrelics from tombs and mummies; curios from Australia, New Zealand, and\nthe South Seas; idols and images--from Tartar ikons to ancient Egyptian,\nPersian, and Indian objects of worship; objects of death and torture of\nAmerican Indians; and, above all, a vast collection of lethal weapons of\nevery kind and from every place--Chinese \"high pinders,\" double knives,\nAfghan double-edged scimitars made to cut a body in two, heavy knives\nfrom all the Eastern countries, ghost daggers from Thibet, the terrible\nkukri of the Ghourka and other hill tribes of India, assassins' weapons\nfrom Italy and Spain, even the knife which was formerly carried by the\nslave-drivers of the Mississippi region.  Death and pain of every kind\nwere fully represented in that gruesome collection.\n\nThat it had a fascination for Oolanga goes without saying.  He was never\ntired of visiting the museum in the tower, and spent endless hours in\ninspecting the exhibits, till he was thoroughly familiar with every\ndetail of all of them.  He asked permission to clean and polish and\nsharpen them--a favour which was readily granted.  In addition to the\nabove objects, there were many things of a kind to awaken human fear.\nStuffed serpents of the most objectionable and horrid kind; giant insects\nfrom the tropics, fearsome in every detail; fishes and crustaceans\ncovered with weird spikes; dried octopuses of great size.  Other things,\ntoo, there were, not less deadly though seemingly innocuous--dried fungi,\ntraps intended for birds, beasts, fishes, reptiles, and insects; machines\nwhich could produce pain of any kind and degree, and the only mercy of\nwhich was the power of producing speedy death.\n\nCaswall, who had never before seen any of these things, except those\nwhich he had collected himself, found a constant amusement and interest\nin them.  He studied them, their uses, their mechanism--where there was\nsuch--and their places of origin, until he had an ample and real\nknowledge of all concerning them.  Many were secret and intricate, but he\nnever rested till he found out all the secrets.  When once he had become\ninterested in strange objects, and the way to use them, he began to\nexplore various likely places for similar finds.  He began to inquire of\nhis household where strange lumber was kept.  Several of the men spoke of\nold Simon Chester as one who knew everything in and about the house.\nAccordingly, he sent for the old man, who came at once.  He was very old,\nnearly ninety years of age, and very infirm.  He had been born in the\nCastle, and had served its succession of masters--present or absent--ever\nsince.  When Edgar began to question him on the subject regarding which\nhe had sent for him, old Simon exhibited much perturbation.  In fact, he\nbecame so frightened that his master, fully believing that he was\nconcealing something, ordered him to tell at once what remained unseen,\nand where it was hidden away.  Face to face with discovery of his secret,\nthe old man, in a pitiable state of concern, spoke out even more fully\nthan Mr. Caswall had expected.\n\n\"Indeed, indeed, sir, everything is here in the tower that has ever been\nput away in my time except--except--\" here he began to shake and tremble\nit--\"except the chest which Mr. Edgar--he who was Mr. Edgar when I first\ntook service--brought back from France, after he had been with Dr.\nMesmer.  The trunk has been kept in my room for safety; but I shall send\nit down here now.\"\n\n\"What is in it?\" asked Edgar sharply.\n\n\"That I do not know.  Moreover, it is a peculiar trunk, without any\nvisible means of opening.\"\n\n\"Is there no lock?\"\n\n\"I suppose so, sir; but I do not know.  There is no keyhole.\"\n\n\"Send it here; and then come to me yourself.\"\n\nThe trunk, a heavy one with steel bands round it, but no lock or keyhole,\nwas carried in by two men.  Shortly afterwards old Simon attended his\nmaster.  When he came into the room, Mr. Caswall himself went and closed\nthe door; then he asked:\n\n\"How do you open it?\"\n\n\"I do not know, sir.\"\n\n\"Do you mean to say that you never opened it?\"\n\n\"Most certainly I say so, your honour.  How could I?  It was entrusted to\nme with the other things by my master.  To open it would have been a\nbreach of trust.\"\n\nCaswall sneered.\n\n\"Quite remarkable!  Leave it with me.  Close the door behind you.\nStay--did no one ever tell you about it--say anything regarding it--make\nany remark?\"\n\nOld Simon turned pale, and put his trembling hands together.\n\n\"Oh, sir, I entreat you not to touch it.  That trunk probably contains\nsecrets which Dr. Mesmer told my master.  Told them to his ruin!\"\n\n\"How do you mean?  What ruin?\"\n\n\"Sir, he it was who, men said, sold his soul to the Evil One; I had\nthought that that time and the evil of it had all passed away.\"\n\n\"That will do.  Go away; but remain in your own room, or within call.  I\nmay want you.\"\n\nThe old man bowed deeply and went out trembling, but without speaking a\nword.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII--THE CHEST OPENED\n\n\nLeft alone in the turret-room, Edgar Caswall carefully locked the door\nand hung a handkerchief over the keyhole.  Next, he inspected the\nwindows, and saw that they were not overlooked from any angle of the main\nbuilding.  Then he carefully examined the trunk, going over it with a\nmagnifying glass.  He found it intact: the steel bands were flawless; the\nwhole trunk was compact.  After sitting opposite to it for some time, and\nthe shades of evening beginning to melt into darkness, he gave up the\ntask and went to his bedroom, after locking the door of the turret-room\nbehind him and taking away the key.\n\nHe woke in the morning at daylight, and resumed his patient but\nunavailing study of the metal trunk.  This he continued during the whole\nday with the same result--humiliating disappointment, which overwrought\nhis nerves and made his head ache.  The result of the long strain was\nseen later in the afternoon, when he sat locked within the turret-room\nbefore the still baffling trunk, distrait, listless and yet agitated,\nsunk in a settled gloom.  As the dusk was falling he told the steward to\nsend him two men, strong ones.  These he ordered to take the trunk to his\nbedroom.  In that room he then sat on into the night, without pausing\neven to take any food.  His mind was in a whirl, a fever of excitement.\nThe result was that when, late in the night, he locked himself in his\nroom his brain was full of odd fancies; he was on the high road to mental\ndisturbance.  He lay down on his bed in the dark, still brooding over the\nmystery of the closed trunk.\n\nGradually he yielded to the influences of silence and darkness.  After\nlying there quietly for some time, his mind became active again.  But\nthis time there were round him no disturbing influences; his brain was\nactive and able to work freely and to deal with memory.  A thousand\nforgotten--or only half-known--incidents, fragments of conversations or\ntheories long ago guessed at and long forgotten, crowded on his mind.  He\nseemed to hear again around him the legions of whirring wings to which he\nhad been so lately accustomed.  Even to himself he knew that that was an\neffort of imagination founded on imperfect memory.  But he was content\nthat imagination should work, for out of it might come some solution of\nthe mystery which surrounded him.  And in this frame of mind, sleep made\nanother and more successful essay.  This time he enjoyed peaceful\nslumber, restful alike to his wearied body and his overwrought brain.\n\nIn his sleep he arose, and, as if in obedience to some influence beyond\nand greater than himself, lifted the great trunk and set it on a strong\ntable at one side of the room, from which he had previously removed a\nquantity of books.  To do this, he had to use an amount of strength which\nwas, he knew, far beyond him in his normal state.  As it was, it seemed\neasy enough; everything yielded before his touch.  Then he became\nconscious that somehow--how, he never could remember--the chest was open.\nHe unlocked his door, and, taking the chest on his shoulder, carried it\nup to the turret-room, the door of which also he unlocked.  Even at the\ntime he was amazed at his own strength, and wondered whence it had come.\nHis mind, lost in conjecture, was too far off to realise more immediate\nthings.  He knew that the chest was enormously heavy.  He seemed, in a\nsort of vision which lit up the absolute blackness around, to see the two\nsturdy servant men staggering under its great weight.  He locked himself\nagain in the turret-room, and laid the opened chest on a table, and in\nthe darkness began to unpack it, laying out the contents, which were\nmainly of metal and glass--great pieces in strange forms--on another\ntable.  He was conscious of being still asleep, and of acting rather in\nobedience to some unseen and unknown command than in accordance with any\nreasonable plan, to be followed by results which he understood.  This\nphase completed, he proceeded to arrange in order the component parts of\nsome large instruments, formed mostly of glass.  His fingers seemed to\nhave acquired a new and exquisite subtlety and even a volition of their\nown.  Then weariness of brain came upon him; his head sank down on his\nbreast, and little by little everything became wrapped in gloom.\n\nHe awoke in the early morning in his bedroom, and looked around him, now\nclear-headed, in amazement.  In its usual place on the strong table stood\nthe great steel-hooped chest without lock or key.  But it was now locked.\nHe arose quietly and stole to the turret-room.  There everything was as\nit had been on the previous evening.  He looked out of the window where\nhigh in air flew, as usual, the giant kite.  He unlocked the wicket gate\nof the turret stair and went out on the roof.  Close to him was the great\ncoil of cord on its reel.  It was humming in the morning breeze, and when\nhe touched the string it sent a quick thrill through hand and arm.  There\nwas no sign anywhere that there had been any disturbance or displacement\nof anything during the night.\n\nUtterly bewildered, he sat down in his room to think.  Now for the first\ntime he _felt_ that he was asleep and dreaming.  Presently he fell asleep\nagain, and slept for a long time.  He awoke hungry and made a hearty\nmeal.  Then towards evening, having locked himself in, he fell asleep\nagain.  When he woke he was in darkness, and was quite at sea as to his\nwhereabouts.  He began feeling about the dark room, and was recalled to\nthe consequences of his position by the breaking of a large piece of\nglass.  Having obtained a light, he discovered this to be a glass wheel,\npart of an elaborate piece of mechanism which he must in his sleep have\ntaken from the chest, which was now opened.  He had once again opened it\nwhilst asleep, but he had no recollection of the circumstances.\n\nCaswall came to the conclusion that there had been some sort of dual\naction of his mind, which might lead to some catastrophe or some\ndiscovery of his secret plans; so he resolved to forgo for a while the\npleasure of making discoveries regarding the chest.  To this end, he\napplied himself to quite another matter--an investigation of the other\ntreasures and rare objects in his collections.  He went amongst them in\nsimple, idle curiosity, his main object being to discover some strange\nitem which he might use for experiment with the kite.  He had already\nresolved to try some runners other than those made of paper.  He had a\nvague idea that with such a force as the great kite straining at its\nleash, this might be used to lift to the altitude of the kite itself\nheavier articles.  His first experiment with articles of little but\nincreasing weight was eminently successful.  So he added by degrees more\nand more weight, until he found out that the lifting power of the kite\nwas considerable.  He then determined to take a step further, and send to\nthe kite some of the articles which lay in the steel-hooped chest.  The\nlast time he had opened it in sleep, it had not been shut again, and he\nhad inserted a wedge so that he could open it at will.  He made\nexamination of the contents, but came to the conclusion that the glass\nobjects were unsuitable.  They were too light for testing weight, and\nthey were so frail as to be dangerous to send to such a height.\n\nSo he looked around for something more solid with which to experiment.\nHis eye caught sight of an object which at once attracted him.  This was\na small copy of one of the ancient Egyptian gods--that of Bes, who\nrepresented the destructive power of nature.  It was so bizarre and\nmysterious as to commend itself to his mad humour.  In lifting it from\nthe cabinet, he was struck by its great weight in proportion to its size.\nHe made accurate examination of it by the aid of some instruments, and\ncame to the conclusion that it was carved from a lump of lodestone.  He\nremembered that he had read somewhere of an ancient Egyptian god cut from\na similar substance, and, thinking it over, he came to the conclusion\nthat he must have read it in Sir Thomas Brown's _Popular Errors_, a book\nof the seventeenth century.  He got the book from the library, and looked\nout the passage:\n\n\"A great example we have from the observation of our learned friend Mr.\nGraves, in an AEgyptian idol cut out of Loadstone and found among the\nMummies; which still retains its attraction, though probably taken out of\nthe mine about two thousand years ago.\"\n\nThe strangeness of the figure, and its being so close akin to his own\nnature, attracted him.  He made from thin wood a large circular runner,\nand in front of it placed the weighty god, sending it up to the flying\nkite along the throbbing cord.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII--OOLANGA'S HALLUCINATIONS\n\n\nDuring the last few days Lady Arabella had been getting exceedingly\nimpatient.  Her debts, always pressing, were growing to an embarrassing\namount.  The only hope she had of comfort in life was a good marriage;\nbut the good marriage on which she had fixed her eye did not seem to move\nquickly enough--indeed, it did not seem to move at all--in the right\ndirection.  Edgar Caswall was not an ardent wooer.  From the very first\nhe seemed _difficile_, but he had been keeping to his own room ever since\nhis struggle with Mimi Watford.  On that occasion Lady Arabella had shown\nhim in an unmistakable way what her feelings were; indeed, she had made\nit known to him, in a more overt way than pride should allow, that she\nwished to help and support him.  The moment when she had gone across the\nroom to stand beside him in his mesmeric struggle, had been the very\nlimit of her voluntary action.  It was quite bitter enough, she felt,\nthat he did not come to her, but now that she had made that advance, she\nfelt that any withdrawal on his part would, to a woman of her class, be\nnothing less than a flaming insult.  Had she not classed herself with his\nnigger servant, an unreformed savage?  Had she not shown her preference\nfor him at the festival of his home-coming?  Had she not . . . Lady\nArabella was cold-blooded, and she was prepared to go through all that\nmight be necessary of indifference, and even insult, to become chatelaine\nof Castra Regis.  In the meantime, she would show no hurry--she must\nwait.  She might, in an unostentatious way, come to him again.  She knew\nhim now, and could make a keen guess at his desires with regard to Lilla\nWatford.  With that secret in her possession, she could bring pressure to\nbear on Caswall which would make it no easy matter for him to evade her.\nThe great difficulty was how to get near him.  He was shut up within his\nCastle, and guarded by a defence of convention which she could not pass\nwithout danger of ill repute to herself.  Over this question she thought\nand thought for days and nights.  At last she decided that the only way\nwould be to go to him openly at Castra Regis.  Her rank and position\nwould make such a thing possible, if carefully done.  She could explain\nmatters afterwards if necessary.  Then when they were alone, she would\nuse her arts and her experience to make him commit himself.  After all,\nhe was only a man, with a man's dislike of difficult or awkward\nsituations.  She felt quite sufficient confidence in her own womanhood to\ncarry her through any difficulty which might arise.\n\nFrom Diana's Grove she heard each day the luncheon-gong from Castra Regis\nsound, and knew the hour when the servants would be in the back of the\nhouse.  She would enter the house at that hour, and, pretending that she\ncould not make anyone hear her, would seek him in his own rooms.  The\ntower was, she knew, away from all the usual sounds of the house, and\nmoreover she knew that the servants had strict orders not to interrupt\nhim when he was in the turret chamber.  She had found out, partly by the\naid of an opera-glass and partly by judicious questioning, that several\ntimes lately a heavy chest had been carried to and from his room, and\nthat it rested in the room each night.  She was, therefore, confident\nthat he had some important work on hand which would keep him busy for\nlong spells.\n\nMeanwhile, another member of the household at Castra Regis had schemes\nwhich he thought were working to fruition.  A man in the position of a\nservant has plenty of opportunity of watching his betters and forming\nopinions regarding them.  Oolanga was in his way a clever, unscrupulous\nrogue, and he felt that with things moving round him in this great\nhousehold there should be opportunities of self-advancement.  Being\nunscrupulous and stealthy--and a savage--he looked to dishonest means.  He\nsaw plainly enough that Lady Arabella was making a dead set at his\nmaster, and he was watchful of the slightest sign of anything which might\nenhance this knowledge.  Like the other men in the house, he knew of the\ncarrying to and fro of the great chest, and had got it into his head that\nthe care exercised in its porterage indicated that it was full of\ntreasure.  He was for ever lurking around the turret-rooms on the chance\nof making some useful discovery.  But he was as cautious as he was\nstealthy, and took care that no one else watched him.\n\nIt was thus that the negro became aware of Lady Arabella's venture into\nthe house, as she thought, unseen.  He took more care than ever, since he\nwas watching another, that the positions were not reversed.  More than\never he kept his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut.  Seeing Lady\nArabella gliding up the stairs towards his master's room, he took it for\ngranted that she was there for no good, and doubled his watching\nintentness and caution.\n\nOolanga was disappointed, but he dared not exhibit any feeling lest it\nshould betray that he was hiding.  Therefore he slunk downstairs again\nnoiselessly, and waited for a more favourable opportunity of furthering\nhis plans.  It must be borne in mind that he thought that the heavy trunk\nwas full of valuables, and that he believed that Lady Arabella had come\nto try to steal it.  His purpose of using for his own advantage the\ncombination of these two ideas was seen later in the day.  Oolanga\nsecretly followed her home.  He was an expert at this game, and succeeded\nadmirably on this occasion.  He watched her enter the private gate of\nDiana's Grove, and then, taking a roundabout course and keeping out of\nher sight, he at last overtook her in a thick part of the Grove where no\none could see the meeting.\n\nLady Arabella was much surprised.  She had not seen the negro for several\ndays, and had almost forgotten his existence.  Oolanga would have been\nstartled had he known and been capable of understanding the real value\nplaced on him, his beauty, his worthiness, by other persons, and compared\nit with the value in these matters in which he held himself.  Doubtless\nOolanga had his dreams like other men.  In such cases he saw himself as a\nyoung sun-god, as beautiful as the eye of dusky or even white womanhood\nhad ever dwelt upon.  He would have been filled with all noble and\ncaptivating qualities--or those regarded as such in West Africa.  Women\nwould have loved him, and would have told him so in the overt and fervid\nmanner usual in affairs of the heart in the shadowy depths of the forest\nof the Gold Coast.\n\nOolanga came close behind Lady Arabella, and in a hushed voice, suitable\nto the importance of his task, and in deference to the respect he had for\nher and the place, began to unfold the story of his love.  Lady Arabella\nwas not usually a humorous person, but no man or woman of the white race\ncould have checked the laughter which rose spontaneously to her lips.  The\ncircumstances were too grotesque, the contrast too violent, for subdued\nmirth.  The man a debased specimen of one of the most primitive races of\nthe earth, and of an ugliness which was simply devilish; the woman of\nhigh degree, beautiful, accomplished.  She thought that her first\nmoment's consideration of the outrage--it was nothing less in her\neyes--had given her the full material for thought.  But every instant\nafter threw new and varied lights on the affront.  Her indignation was\ntoo great for passion; only irony or satire would meet the situation.  Her\ncold, cruel nature helped, and she did not shrink to subject this\nignorant savage to the merciless fire-lash of her scorn.\n\nOolanga was dimly conscious that he was being flouted; but his anger was\nno less keen because of the measure of his ignorance.  So he gave way to\nit, as does a tortured beast.  He ground his great teeth together, raved,\nstamped, and swore in barbarous tongues and with barbarous imagery.  Even\nLady Arabella felt that it was well she was within reach of help, or he\nmight have offered her brutal violence--even have killed her.\n\n\"Am I to understand,\" she said with cold disdain, so much more effective\nto wound than hot passion, \"that you are offering me your love?\nYour--love?\"\n\nFor reply he nodded his head.  The scorn of her voice, in a sort of\nbaleful hiss, sounded--and felt--like the lash of a whip.\n\n\"And you dared! you--a savage--a slave--the basest thing in the world of\nvermin!  Take care!  I don't value your worthless life more than I do\nthat of a rat or a spider.  Don't let me ever see your hideous face here\nagain, or I shall rid the earth of you.\"\n\nAs she was speaking, she had taken out her revolver and was pointing it\nat him.  In the immediate presence of death his impudence forsook him,\nand he made a weak effort to justify himself.  His speech was short,\nconsisting of single words.  To Lady Arabella it sounded mere gibberish,\nbut it was in his own dialect, and meant love, marriage, wife.  From the\nintonation of the words, she guessed, with her woman's quick intuition,\nat their meaning; but she quite failed to follow, when, becoming more\npressing, he continued to urge his suit in a mixture of the grossest\nanimal passion and ridiculous threats.  He warned her that he knew she\nhad tried to steal his master's treasure, and that he had caught her in\nthe act.  But if she would be his, he would share the treasure with her,\nand they could live in luxury in the African forests.  But if she\nrefused, he would tell his master, who would flog and torture her and\nthen give her to the police, who would kill her.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV--BATTLE RENEWED\n\n\nThe consequences of that meeting in the dusk of Diana's Grove were acute\nand far-reaching, and not only to the two engaged in it.  From Oolanga,\nthis might have been expected by anyone who knew the character of the\ntropical African savage.  To such, there are two passions that are\ninexhaustible and insatiable--vanity and that which they are pleased to\ncall love.  Oolanga left the Grove with an absorbing hatred in his heart.\nHis lust and greed were afire, while his vanity had been wounded to the\ncore.  Lady Arabella's icy nature was not so deeply stirred, though she\nwas in a seething passion.  More than ever she was set upon bringing\nEdgar Caswall to her feet.  The obstacles she had encountered, the\ninsults she had endured, were only as fuel to the purpose of revenge\nwhich consumed her.\n\nAs she sought her own rooms in Diana's Grove, she went over the whole\nsubject again and again, always finding in the face of Lilla Watford a\nkey to a problem which puzzled her--the problem of a way to turn\nCaswall's powers--his very existence--to aid her purpose.\n\nWhen in her boudoir, she wrote a note, taking so much trouble over it\nthat she destroyed, and rewrote, till her dainty waste-basket was half-\nfull of torn sheets of notepaper.  When quite satisfied, she copied out\nthe last sheet afresh, and then carefully burned all the spoiled\nfragments.  She put the copied note in an emblazoned envelope, and\ndirected it to Edgar Caswall at Castra Regis.  This she sent off by one\nof her grooms.  The letter ran:\n\n   \"DEAR MR. CASWALL,\n\n   \"I want to have a chat with you on a subject in which I believe you\n   are interested.  Will you kindly call for me one day after lunch--say\n   at three or four o'clock, and we can walk a little way together.  Only\n   as far as Mercy Farm, where I want to see Lilla and Mimi Watford.  We\n   can take a cup of tea at the Farm.  Do not bring your African servant\n   with you, as I am afraid his face frightens the girls.  After all, he\n   is not pretty, is he?  I have an idea you will be pleased with your\n   visit this time.\n\n   \"Yours sincerely,\n\n   \"ARABELLA MARCH.\"\n\nAt half-past three next day, Edgar Caswall called at Diana's Grove.  Lady\nArabella met him on the roadway outside the gate.  She wished to take the\nservants into her confidence as little as possible.  She turned when she\nsaw him coming, and walked beside him towards Mercy Farm, keeping step\nwith him as they walked.  When they got near Mercy, she turned and looked\naround her, expecting to see Oolanga or some sign of him.  He was,\nhowever, not visible.  He had received from his master peremptory orders\nto keep out of sight--an order for which the African scored a new offence\nup against her.  They found Lilla and Mimi at home and seemingly glad to\nsee them, though both the girls were surprised at the visit coming so\nsoon after the other.\n\nThe proceedings were a repetition of the battle of souls of the former\nvisit.  On this occasion, however, Edgar Caswall had only the presence of\nLady Arabella to support him--Oolanga being absent; but Mimi lacked the\nsupport of Adam Salton, which had been of such effective service before.\nThis time the struggle for supremacy of will was longer and more\ndetermined.  Caswall felt that if he could not achieve supremacy he had\nbetter give up the idea, so all his pride was enlisted against Mimi.  When\nthey had been waiting for the door to be opened, Lady Arabella, believing\nin a sudden attack, had said to him in a low voice, which somehow carried\nconviction:\n\n\"This time you should win.  Mimi is, after all, only a woman.  Show her\nno mercy.  That is weakness.  Fight her, beat her, trample on her--kill\nher if need be.  She stands in your way, and I hate her.  Never take your\neyes off her.  Never mind Lilla--she is afraid of you.  You are already\nher master.  Mimi will try to make you look at her cousin.  There lies\ndefeat.  Let nothing take your attention from Mimi, and you will win.  If\nshe is overcoming you, take my hand and hold it hard whilst you are\nlooking into her eyes.  If she is too strong for you, I shall interfere.\nI'll make a diversion, and under cover of it you must retire unbeaten,\neven if not victorious.  Hush! they are coming.\"\n\nThe two girls came to the door together.  Strange sounds were coming up\nover the Brow from the west.  It was the rustling and crackling of the\ndry reeds and rushes from the low lands.  The season had been an\nunusually dry one.  Also the strong east wind was helping forward\nenormous flocks of birds, most of them pigeons with white cowls.  Not\nonly were their wings whirring, but their cooing was plainly audible.\nFrom such a multitude of birds the mass of sound, individually small,\nassumed the volume of a storm.  Surprised at the influx of birds, to\nwhich they had been strangers so long, they all looked towards Castra\nRegis, from whose high tower the great kite had been flying as usual.  But\neven as they looked, the cord broke, and the great kite fell headlong in\na series of sweeping dives.  Its own weight, and the aerial force opposed\nto it, which caused it to rise, combined with the strong easterly breeze,\nhad been too much for the great length of cord holding it.\n\nSomehow, the mishap to the kite gave new hope to Mimi.  It was as though\nthe side issues had been shorn away, so that the main struggle was\nthenceforth on simpler lines.  She had a feeling in her heart, as though\nsome religious chord had been newly touched.  It may, of course, have\nbeen that with the renewal of the bird voices a fresh courage, a fresh\nbelief in the good issue of the struggle came too.  In the misery of\nsilence, from which they had all suffered for so long, any new train of\nthought was almost bound to be a boon.  As the inrush of birds continued,\ntheir wings beating against the crackling rushes, Lady Arabella grew\npale, and almost fainted.\n\n\"What is that?\" she asked suddenly.\n\nTo Mimi, born and bred in Siam, the sound was strangely like an\nexaggeration of the sound produced by a snake-charmer.\n\nEdgar Caswall was the first to recover from the interruption of the\nfalling kite.  After a few minutes he seemed to have quite recovered his\n_sang froid_, and was able to use his brains to the end which he had in\nview.  Mimi too quickly recovered herself, but from a different cause.\nWith her it was a deep religious conviction that the struggle round her\nwas of the powers of Good and Evil, and that Good was triumphing.  The\nvery appearance of the snowy birds, with the cowls of Saint Columba,\nheightened the impression.  With this conviction strong upon her, she\ncontinued the strange battle with fresh vigour.  She seemed to tower over\nCaswall, and he to give back before her oncoming.  Once again her\nvigorous passes drove him to the door.  He was just going out backward\nwhen Lady Arabella, who had been gazing at him with fixed eyes, caught\nhis hand and tried to stop his movement.  She was, however, unable to do\nany good, and so, holding hands, they passed out together.  As they did\nso, the strange music which had so alarmed Lady Arabella suddenly\nstopped.  Instinctively they all looked towards the tower of Castra\nRegis, and saw that the workmen had refixed the kite, which had risen\nagain and was beginning to float out to its former station.\n\nAs they were looking, the door opened and Michael Watford came into the\nroom.  By that time all had recovered their self-possession, and there\nwas nothing out of the common to attract his attention.  As he came in,\nseeing inquiring looks all around him, he said:\n\n\"The new influx of birds is only the annual migration of pigeons from\nAfrica.  I am told that it will soon be over.\"\n\nThe second victory of Mimi Watford made Edgar Caswall more moody than\never.  He felt thrown back on himself, and this, added to his absorbing\ninterest in the hope of a victory of his mesmeric powers, became a deep\nand settled purpose of revenge.  The chief object of his animosity was,\nof course, Mimi, whose will had overcome his, but it was obscured in\ngreater or lesser degree by all who had opposed him.  Lilla was next to\nMimi in his hate--Lilla, the harmless, tender-hearted, sweet-natured\ngirl, whose heart was so full of love for all things that in it was no\nroom for the passions of ordinary life--whose nature resembled those\ndoves of St. Columba, whose colour she wore, whose appearance she\nreflected.  Adam Salton came next--after a gap; for against him Caswall\nhad no direct animosity.  He regarded him as an interference, a\ndifficulty to be got rid of or destroyed.  The young Australian had been\nso discreet that the most he had against him was his knowledge of what\nhad been.  Caswall did not understand him, and to such a nature as his,\nignorance was a cause of alarm, of dread.\n\nCaswall resumed his habit of watching the great kite straining at its\ncord, varying his vigils in this way by a further examination of the\nmysterious treasures of his house, especially Mesmer's chest.  He sat\nmuch on the roof of the tower, brooding over his thwarted passion.  The\nvast extent of his possessions, visible to him at that altitude, might,\none would have thought, have restored some of his complacency.  But the\nvery extent of his ownership, thus perpetually brought before him,\ncreated a fresh sense of grievance.  How was it, he thought, that with so\nmuch at command that others wished for, he could not achieve the dearest\nwishes of his heart?\n\nIn this state of intellectual and moral depravity, he found a solace in\nthe renewal of his experiments with the mechanical powers of the kite.\nFor a couple of weeks he did not see Lady Arabella, who was always on the\nwatch for a chance of meeting him; neither did he see the Watford girls,\nwho studiously kept out of his way.  Adam Salton simply marked time,\nkeeping ready to deal with anything that might affect his friends.  He\ncalled at the farm and heard from Mimi of the last battle of wills, but\nit had only one consequence.  He got from Ross several more mongooses,\nincluding a second king-cobra-killer, which he generally carried with him\nin its box whenever he walked out.\n\nMr. Caswall's experiments with the kite went on successfully.  Each day\nhe tried the lifting of greater weight, and it seemed almost as if the\nmachine had a sentience of its own, which was increasing with the\nobstacles placed before it.  All this time the kite hung in the sky at an\nenormous height.  The wind was steadily from the north, so the trend of\nthe kite was to the south.  All day long, runners of increasing magnitude\nwere sent up.  These were only of paper or thin cardboard, or leather, or\nother flexible materials.  The great height at which the kite hung made a\ngreat concave curve in the string, so that as the runners went up they\nmade a flapping sound.  If one laid a finger on the string, the sound\nanswered to the flapping of the runner in a sort of hollow intermittent\nmurmur.  Edgar Caswall, who was now wholly obsessed by the kite and all\nbelonging to it, found a distinct resemblance between that intermittent\nrumble and the snake-charming music produced by the pigeons flying\nthrough the dry reeds.\n\nOne day he made a discovery in Mesmer's chest which he thought he would\nutilise with regard to the runners.  This was a great length of wire,\n\"fine as human hair,\" coiled round a finely made wheel, which ran to a\nwondrous distance freely, and as lightly.  He tried this on runners, and\nfound it work admirably.  Whether the runner was alone, or carried\nsomething much more weighty than itself, it worked equally well.  Also it\nwas strong enough and light enough to draw back the runner without undue\nstrain.  He tried this a good many times successfully, but it was now\ngrowing dusk and he found some difficulty in keeping the runner in sight.\nSo he looked for something heavy enough to keep it still.  He placed the\nEgyptian image of Bes on the fine wire, which crossed the wooden ledge\nwhich protected it.  Then, the darkness growing, he went indoors and\nforgot all about it.\n\nHe had a strange feeling of uneasiness that night--not sleeplessness, for\nhe seemed conscious of being asleep.  At daylight he rose, and as usual\nlooked out for the kite.  He did not see it in its usual position in the\nsky, so looked round the points of the compass.  He was more than\nastonished when presently he saw the missing kite struggling as usual\nagainst the controlling cord.  But it had gone to the further side of the\ntower, and now hung and strained _against the wind_ to the north.  He\nthought it so strange that he determined to investigate the phenomenon,\nand to say nothing about it in the meantime.\n\nIn his many travels, Edgar Caswall had been accustomed to use the\nsextant, and was now an expert in the matter.  By the aid of this and\nother instruments, he was able to fix the position of the kite and the\npoint over which it hung.  He was startled to find that exactly under\nit--so far as he could ascertain--was Diana's Grove.  He had an\ninclination to take Lady Arabella into his confidence in the matter, but\nhe thought better of it and wisely refrained.  For some reason which he\ndid not try to explain to himself, he was glad of his silence, when, on\nthe following morning, he found, on looking out, that the point over\nwhich the kite then hovered was Mercy Farm.  When he had verified this\nwith his instruments, he sat before the window of the tower, looking out\nand thinking.  The new locality was more to his liking than the other;\nbut the why of it puzzled him, all the same.  He spent the rest of the\nday in the turret-room, which he did not leave all day.  It seemed to him\nthat he was now drawn by forces which he could not control--of which,\nindeed, he had no knowledge--in directions which he did not understand,\nand which were without his own volition.  In sheer helpless inability to\nthink the problem out satisfactorily, he called up a servant and told him\nto tell Oolanga that he wanted to see him at once in the turret-room.  The\nanswer came back that the African had not been seen since the previous\nevening.\n\nCaswall was now so irritable that even this small thing upset him.  As he\nwas distrait and wanted to talk to somebody, he sent for Simon Chester,\nwho came at once, breathless with hurrying and upset by the unexpected\nsummons.  Caswall bade him sit down, and when the old man was in a less\nuneasy frame of mind, he again asked him if he had ever seen what was in\nMesmer's chest or heard it spoken about.\n\nChester admitted that he had once, in the time of \"the then Mr. Edgar,\"\nseen the chest open, which, knowing something of its history and guessing\nmore, so upset him that he had fainted.  When he recovered, the chest was\nclosed.  From that time the then Mr. Edgar had never spoken about it\nagain.\n\nWhen Caswall asked him to describe what he had seen when the chest was\nopen, he got very agitated, and, despite all his efforts to remain calm,\nhe suddenly went off into a faint.  Caswall summoned servants, who\napplied the usual remedies.  Still the old man did not recover.  After\nthe lapse of a considerable time, the doctor who had been summoned made\nhis appearance.  A glance was sufficient for him to make up his mind.\nStill, he knelt down by the old man, and made a careful examination.  Then\nhe rose to his feet, and in a hushed voice said:\n\n\"I grieve to say, sir, that he has passed away.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV--ON THE TRACK\n\n\nThose who had seen Edgar Caswall familiarly since his arrival, and had\nalready estimated his cold-blooded nature at something of its true value,\nwere surprised that he took so to heart the death of old Chester.  The\nfact was that not one of them had guessed correctly at his character.\nThey thought, naturally enough, that the concern which he felt was that\nof a master for a faithful old servant of his family.  They little\nthought that it was merely the selfish expression of his disappointment,\nthat he had thus lost the only remaining clue to an interesting piece of\nfamily history--one which was now and would be for ever wrapped in\nmystery.  Caswall knew enough about the life of his ancestor in Paris to\nwish to know more fully and more thoroughly all that had been.  The\nperiod covered by that ancestor's life in Paris was one inviting every\nform of curiosity.\n\nLady Arabella, who had her own game to play, saw in the _metier_ of\nsympathetic friend, a series of meetings with the man she wanted to\nsecure.  She made the first use of the opportunity the day after old\nChester's death; indeed, as soon as the news had filtered in through the\nback door of Diana's Grove.  At that meeting, she played her part so well\nthat even Caswall's cold nature was impressed.\n\nOolanga was the only one who did not credit her with at least some sense\nof fine feeling in the matter.  In emotional, as in other matters,\nOolanga was distinctly a utilitarian, and as he could not understand\nanyone feeling grief except for his own suffering, pain, or for the loss\nof money, he could not understand anyone simulating such an emotion\nexcept for show intended to deceive.  He thought that she had come to\nCastra Regis again for the opportunity of stealing something, and was\ndetermined that on this occasion the chance of pressing his advantage\nover her should not pass.  He felt, therefore, that the occasion was one\nfor extra carefulness in the watching of all that went on.  Ever since he\nhad come to the conclusion that Lady Arabella was trying to steal the\ntreasure-chest, he suspected nearly everyone of the same design, and made\nit a point to watch all suspicious persons and places.  As Adam was\nengaged on his own researches regarding Lady Arabella, it was only\nnatural that there should be some crossing of each other's tracks.  This\nis what did actually happen.\n\nAdam had gone for an early morning survey of the place in which he was\ninterested, taking with him the mongoose in its box.  He arrived at the\ngate of Diana's Grove just as Lady Arabella was preparing to set out for\nCastra Regis on what she considered her mission of comfort.  Seeing Adam\nfrom her window going through the shadows of the trees round the gate,\nshe thought that he must be engaged on some purpose similar to her own.\nSo, quickly making her toilet, she quietly left the house, and, taking\nadvantage of every shadow and substance which could hide her, followed\nhim on his walk.\n\nOolanga, the experienced tracker, followed her, but succeeded in hiding\nhis movements better than she did.  He saw that Adam had on his shoulder\na mysterious box, which he took to contain something valuable.  Seeing\nthat Lady Arabella was secretly following Adam, he was confirmed in this\nidea.  His mind--such as it was--was fixed on her trying to steal, and he\ncredited her at once with making use of this new opportunity.\n\nIn his walk, Adam went into the grounds of Castra Regis, and Oolanga saw\nher follow him with great secrecy.  He feared to go closer, as now on\nboth sides of him were enemies who might make discovery.  When he\nrealised that Lady Arabella was bound for the Castle, he devoted himself\nto following her with singleness of purpose.  He therefore missed seeing\nthat Adam branched off the track and returned to the high road.\n\nThat night Edgar Caswall had slept badly.  The tragic occurrence of the\nday was on his mind, and he kept waking and thinking of it.  After an\nearly breakfast, he sat at the open window watching the kite and thinking\nof many things.  From his room he could see all round the neighbourhood,\nbut the two places that interested him most were Mercy Farm and Diana's\nGrove.  At first the movements about those spots were of a humble\nkind--those that belong to domestic service or agricultural needs--the\nopening of doors and windows, the sweeping and brushing, and generally\nthe restoration of habitual order.\n\nFrom his high window--whose height made it a screen from the observation\nof others--he saw the chain of watchers move into his own grounds, and\nthen presently break up--Adam Salton going one way, and Lady Arabella,\nfollowed by the nigger, another.  Then Oolanga disappeared amongst the\ntrees; but Caswall could see that he was still watching.  Lady Arabella,\nafter looking around her, slipped in by the open door, and he could, of\ncourse, see her no longer.\n\nPresently, however, he heard a light tap at his door, then the door\nopened slowly, and he could see the flash of Lady Arabella's white dress\nthrough the opening.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI--A VISIT OF SYMPATHY\n\n\nCaswall was genuinely surprised when he saw Lady Arabella, though he need\nnot have been, after what had already occurred in the same way.  The look\nof surprise on his face was so much greater than Lady Arabella had\nexpected--though she thought she was prepared to meet anything that might\noccur--that she stood still, in sheer amazement.  Cold-blooded as she was\nand ready for all social emergencies, she was nonplussed how to go on.\nShe was plucky, however, and began to speak at once, although she had not\nthe slightest idea what she was going to say.\n\n\"I came to offer you my very warm sympathy with the grief you have so\nlately experienced.\"\n\n\"My grief?  I'm afraid I must be very dull; but I really do not\nunderstand.\"\n\nAlready she felt at a disadvantage, and hesitated.\n\n\"I mean about the old man who died so suddenly--your old . . . retainer.\"\n\nCaswall's face relaxed something of its puzzled concentration.\n\n\"Oh, he was only a servant; and he had over-stayed his three-score and\nten years by something like twenty years.  He must have been ninety!\"\n\n\"Still, as an old servant . . . \"\n\nCaswall's words were not so cold as their inflection.\n\n\"I never interfere with servants.  He was kept on here merely because he\nhad been so long on the premises.  I suppose the steward thought it might\nmake him unpopular if the old fellow had been dismissed.\"\n\nHow on earth was she to proceed on such a task as hers if this was the\nutmost geniality she could expect?  So she at once tried another\ntack--this time a personal one.\n\n\"I am sorry I disturbed you.  I am really not unconventional--though\ncertainly no slave to convention.  Still there are limits . . . it is bad\nenough to intrude in this way, and I do not know what you can say or\nthink of the time selected, for the intrusion.\"\n\nAfter all, Edgar Caswall was a gentleman by custom and habit, so he rose\nto the occasion.\n\n\"I can only say, Lady Arabella, that you are always welcome at any time\nyou may deign to honour my house with your presence.\"\n\nShe smiled at him sweetly.\n\n\"Thank you _so_ much.  You _do_ put one at ease.  My breach of convention\nmakes me glad rather than sorry.  I feel that I can open my heart to you\nabout anything.\"\n\nForthwith she proceeded to tell him about Oolanga and his strange\nsuspicions of her honesty.  Caswall laughed and made her explain all the\ndetails.  His final comment was enlightening.\n\n\"Let me give you a word of advice: If you have the slightest fault to\nfind with that infernal nigger, shoot him at sight.  A swelled-headed\nnigger, with a bee in his bonnet, is one of the worst difficulties in the\nworld to deal with.  So better make a clean job of it, and wipe him out\nat once!\"\n\n\"But what about the law, Mr. Caswall?\"\n\n\"Oh, the law doesn't concern itself much about dead niggers.  A few more\nor less do not matter.  To my mind it's rather a relief!\"\n\n\"I'm afraid of you,\" was her only comment, made with a sweet smile and in\na soft voice.\n\n\"All right,\" he said, \"let us leave it at that.  Anyhow, we shall be rid\nof one of them!\"\n\n\"I don't love niggers any more than you do,\" she replied, \"and I suppose\none mustn't be too particular where that sort of cleaning up is\nconcerned.\"  Then she changed in voice and manner, and asked genially:\n\"And now tell me, am I forgiven?\"\n\n\"You are, dear lady--if there is anything to forgive.\"\n\nAs he spoke, seeing that she had moved to go, he came to the door with\nher, and in the most natural way accompanied her downstairs.  He passed\nthrough the hall with her and down the avenue.  As he went back to the\nhouse, she smiled to herself.\n\n\"Well, that is all right.  I don't think the morning has been altogether\nthrown away.\"\n\nAnd she walked slowly back to Diana's Grove.\n\nAdam Salton followed the line of the Brow, and refreshed his memory as to\nthe various localities.  He got home to Lesser Hill just as Sir Nathaniel\nwas beginning lunch.  Mr. Salton had gone to Walsall to keep an early\nappointment; so he was all alone.  When the meal was over--seeing in\nAdam's face that he had something to speak about--he followed into the\nstudy and shut the door.\n\nWhen the two men had lighted their pipes, Sir Nathaniel began.\n\n\"I have remembered an interesting fact about Diana's Grove--there is, I\nhave long understood, some strange mystery about that house.  It may be\nof some interest, or it may be trivial, in such a tangled skein as we are\ntrying to unravel.\"\n\n\"Please tell me all you know or suspect.  To begin, then, of what sort\nis the mystery--physical, mental, moral, historical, scientific, occult?\nAny kind of hint will help me.\"\n\n\"Quite right.  I shall try to tell you what I think; but I have not put\nmy thoughts on the subject in sequence, so you must forgive me if due\norder is not observed in my narration.  I suppose you have seen the house\nat Diana's Grove?\"\n\n\"The outside of it; but I have that in my mind's eye, and I can fit into\nmy memory whatever you may mention.\"\n\n\"The house is very old--probably the first house of some sort that stood\nthere was in the time of the Romans.  This was probably renewed--perhaps\nseveral times at later periods.  The house stands, or, rather, used to\nstand here when Mercia was a kingdom--I do not suppose that the basement\ncan be later than the Norman Conquest.  Some years ago, when I was\nPresident of the Mercian Archaeological Society, I went all over it very\ncarefully.  This was when it was purchased by Captain March.  The house\nhad then been done up, so as to be suitable for the bride.  The basement\nis very strong,--almost as strong and as heavy as if it had been intended\nas a fortress.  There are a whole series of rooms deep underground.  One\nof them in particular struck me.  The room itself is of considerable\nsize, but the masonry is more than massive.  In the middle of the room is\na sunk well, built up to floor level and evidently going deep\nunderground.  There is no windlass nor any trace of there ever having\nbeen any--no rope--nothing.  Now, we know that the Romans had wells of\nimmense depth, from which the water was lifted by the 'old rag rope';\nthat at Woodhull used to be nearly a thousand feet.  Here, then, we have\nsimply an enormously deep well-hole.  The door of the room was massive,\nand was fastened with a lock nearly a foot square.  It was evidently\nintended for some kind of protection to someone or something; but no one\nin those days had ever heard of anyone having been allowed even to see\nthe room.  All this is _a propos_ of a suggestion on my part that the\nwell-hole was a way by which the White Worm (whatever it was) went and\ncame.  At that time I would have had a search made--even excavation if\nnecessary--at my own expense, but all suggestions were met with a prompt\nand explicit negative.  So, of course, I took no further step in the\nmatter.  Then it died out of recollection--even of mine.\"\n\n\"Do you remember, sir,\" asked Adam, \"what was the appearance of the room\nwhere the well-hole was?  Was there furniture--in fact, any sort of thing\nin the room?\"\n\n\"The only thing I remember was a sort of green light--very clouded, very\ndim--which came up from the well.  Not a fixed light, but intermittent\nand irregular--quite unlike anything I had ever seen.\"\n\n\"Do you remember how you got into the well-room?  Was there a separate\ndoor from outside, or was there any interior room or passage which opened\ninto it?\"\n\n\"I think there must have been some room with a way into it.  I remember\ngoing up some steep steps; they must have been worn smooth by long use or\nsomething of the kind, for I could hardly keep my feet as I went up.  Once\nI stumbled and nearly fell into the well-hole.\"\n\n\"Was there anything strange about the place--any queer smell, for\ninstance?\"\n\n\"Queer smell--yes!  Like bilge or a rank swamp.  It was distinctly\nnauseating; when I came out I felt as if I had just been going to be\nsick.  I shall try back on my visit and see if I can recall any more of\nwhat I saw or felt.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps, sir, later in the day you will tell me anything you may\nchance to recollect.\"\n\n\"I shall be delighted, Adam.  If your uncle has not returned by then,\nI'll join you in the study after dinner, and we can resume this\ninteresting chat.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII--THE MYSTERY OF \"THE GROVE\"\n\n\nThat afternoon Adam decided to do a little exploring.  As he passed\nthrough the wood outside the gate of Diana's Grove, he thought he saw the\nAfrican's face for an instant.  So he went deeper into the undergrowth,\nand followed along parallel to the avenue to the house.  He was glad that\nthere was no workman or servant about, for he did not care that any of\nLady Arabella's people should find him wandering about her grounds.\nTaking advantage of the denseness of the trees, he came close to the\nhouse and skirted round it.  He was repaid for his trouble, for on the\nfar side of the house, close to where the rocky frontage of the cliff\nfell away, he saw Oolanga crouched behind the irregular trunk of a great\noak.  The man was so intent on watching someone, or something, that he\ndid not guard against being himself watched.  This suited Adam, for he\ncould thus make scrutiny at will.\n\nThe thick wood, though the trees were mostly of small girth, threw a\nheavy shadow, so that the steep declension, in front of which grew the\ntree behind which the African lurked, was almost in darkness.  Adam drew\nas close as he could, and was amazed to see a patch of light on the\nground before him; when he realised what it was, he was determined, more\nthan ever to follow on his quest.  The nigger had a dark lantern in his\nhand, and was throwing the light down the steep incline.  The glare\nshowed a series of stone steps, which ended in a low-lying heavy iron\ndoor fixed against the side of the house.  All the strange things he had\nheard from Sir Nathaniel, and all those, little and big, which he had\nhimself noticed, crowded into his mind in a chaotic way.  Instinctively\nhe took refuge behind a thick oak stem, and set himself down, to watch\nwhat might occur.\n\nAfter a short time it became apparent that the African was trying to find\nout what was behind the heavy door.  There was no way of looking in, for\nthe door fitted tight into the massive stone slabs.  The only opportunity\nfor the entrance of light was through a small hole between the great\nstones above the door.  This hole was too high up to look through from\nthe ground level.  Oolanga, having tried standing tiptoe on the highest\npoint near, and holding the lantern as high as he could, threw the light\nround the edges of the door to see if he could find anywhere a hole or a\nflaw in the metal through which he could obtain a glimpse.  Foiled in\nthis, he brought from the shrubbery a plank, which he leant against the\ntop of the door and then climbed up with great dexterity.  This did not\nbring him near enough to the window-hole to look in, or even to throw the\nlight of the lantern through it, so he climbed down and carried the plank\nback to the place from which he had got it.  Then he concealed himself\nnear the iron door and waited, manifestly with the intent of remaining\nthere till someone came near.  Presently Lady Arabella, moving\nnoiselessly through the shade, approached the door.  When he saw her\nclose enough to touch it, Oolanga stepped forward from his concealment,\nand spoke in a whisper, which through the gloom sounded like a hiss.\n\n\"I want to see you, missy--soon and secret.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"You know well, missy; I told you already.\"\n\nShe turned on him with blazing eyes, the green tint in them glowing like\nemeralds.\n\n\"Come, none of that.  If there is anything sensible which you wish to say\nto me, you can see me here, just where we are, at seven o'clock.\"\n\nHe made no reply in words, but, putting the backs of his hands together,\nbent lower and lower till his forehead touched the earth.  Then he rose\nand went slowly away.\n\nAdam Salton, from his hiding-place, saw and wondered.  In a few minutes\nhe moved from his place and went home to Lesser Hill, fully determined\nthat seven o'clock would find him in some hidden place behind Diana's\nGrove.\n\nAt a little before seven Adam stole softly out of the house and took the\nback-way to the rear of Diana's Grove.  The place seemed silent and\ndeserted, so he took the opportunity of concealing himself near the spot\nwhence he had seen Oolanga trying to investigate whatever was concealed\nbehind the iron door.  He waited, perfectly still, and at last saw a\ngleam of white passing soundlessly through the undergrowth.  He was not\nsurprised when he recognised the colour of Lady Arabella's dress.  She\ncame close and waited, with her face to the iron door.  From some place\nof concealment near at hand Oolanga appeared, and came close to her.  Adam\nnoticed, with surprised amusement, that over his shoulder was the box\nwith the mongoose.  Of course the African did not know that he was seen\nby anyone, least of all by the man whose property he had with him.\n\nSilent-footed as he was, Lady Arabella heard him coming, and turned to\nmeet him.  It was somewhat hard to see in the gloom, for, as usual, he\nwas all in black, only his collar and cuffs showing white.  Lady Arabella\nopened the conversation which ensued between the two.\n\n\"What do you want?  To rob me, or murder me?\"\n\n\"No, to lub you!\"\n\nThis frightened her a little, and she tried to change the tone.\n\n\"Is that a coffin you have with you?  If so, you are wasting your time.\nIt would not hold me.\"\n\nWhen a nigger suspects he is being laughed at, all the ferocity of his\nnature comes to the front; and this man was of the lowest kind.\n\n\"Dis ain't no coffin for nobody.  Dis box is for you.  Somefin you lub.\nMe give him to you!\"\n\nStill anxious to keep off the subject of affection, on which she believed\nhim to have become crazed, she made another effort to keep his mind\nelsewhere.\n\n\"Is this why you want to see me?\"  He nodded.  \"Then come round to the\nother door.  But be quiet.  I have no desire to be seen so close to my\nown house in conversation with a--a--a nigger like you!\"\n\nShe had chosen the word deliberately.  She wished to meet his passion\nwith another kind.  Such would, at all events, help to keep him quiet.  In\nthe deep gloom she could not see the anger which suffused his face.\nRolling eyeballs and grinding teeth are, however, sufficient signs of\nanger to be decipherable in the dark.  She moved round the corner of the\nhouse to her right.  Oolanga was following her, when she stopped him by\nraising her hand.\n\n\"No, not that door,\" she said; \"that is not for niggers.  The other door\nwill do well enough for you!\"\n\nLady Arabella took in her hand a small key which hung at the end of her\nwatch-chain, and moved to a small door, low down, round the corner, and a\nlittle downhill from the edge of the Brow.  Oolanga, in obedience to her\ngesture, went back to the iron door.  Adam looked carefully at the\nmongoose box as the African went by, and was glad to see that it was\nintact.  Unconsciously, as he looked, he fingered the key that was in his\nwaistcoat pocket.  When Oolanga was out of sight, Adam hurried after Lady\nArabella.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII--EXIT OOLANGA\n\n\nThe woman turned sharply as Adam touched her shoulder.\n\n\"One moment whilst we are alone.  You had better not trust that nigger!\"\nhe whispered.\n\nHer answer was crisp and concise:\n\n\"I don't.\"\n\n\"Forewarned is forearmed.  Tell me if you will--it is for your own\nprotection.  Why do you mistrust him?\"\n\n\"My friend, you have no idea of that man's impudence.  Would you believe\nthat he wants me to marry him?\"\n\n\"No!\" said Adam incredulously, amused in spite of himself.\n\n\"Yes, and wanted to bribe me to do it by sharing a chest of treasure--at\nleast, he thought it was--stolen from Mr. Caswall.  Why do you distrust\nhim, Mr. Salton?\"\n\n\"Did you notice that box he had slung on his shoulder?  That belongs to\nme.  I left it in the gun-room when I went to lunch.  He must have crept\nin and stolen it.  Doubtless he thinks that it, too, is full of\ntreasure.\"\n\n\"He does!\"\n\n\"How on earth do you know?\" asked Adam.\n\n\"A little while ago he offered to give it to me--another bribe to accept\nhim.  Faugh!  I am ashamed to tell you such a thing.  The beast!\"\n\nWhilst they had been speaking, she had opened the door, a narrow iron\none, well hung, for it opened easily and closed tightly without any\ncreaking or sound of any kind.  Within all was dark; but she entered as\nfreely and with as little misgiving or restraint as if it had been broad\ndaylight.  For Adam, there was just sufficient green light from somewhere\nfor him to see that there was a broad flight of heavy stone steps leading\nupward; but Lady Arabella, after shutting the door behind her, when it\nclosed tightly without a clang, tripped up the steps lightly and swiftly.\nFor an instant all was dark, but there came again the faint green light\nwhich enabled him to see the outlines of things.  Another iron door,\nnarrow like the first and fairly high, led into another large room, the\nwalls of which were of massive stones, so closely joined together as to\nexhibit only one smooth surface.  This presented the appearance of having\nat one time been polished.  On the far side, also smooth like the walls,\nwas the reverse of a wide, but not high, iron door.  Here there was a\nlittle more light, for the high-up aperture over the door opened to the\nair.\n\nLady Arabella took from her girdle another small key, which she inserted\nin a keyhole in the centre of a massive lock.  The great bolt seemed\nwonderfully hung, for the moment the small key was turned, the bolts of\nthe great lock moved noiselessly and the iron doors swung open.  On the\nstone steps outside stood Oolanga, with the mongoose box slung over his\nshoulder.  Lady Arabella stood a little on one side, and the African,\naccepting the movement as an invitation, entered in an obsequious way.\nThe moment, however, that he was inside, he gave a quick look around him.\n\n\"Much death here--big death.  Many deaths.  Good, good!\"\n\nHe sniffed round as if he was enjoying the scent.  The matter and manner\nof his speech were so revolting that instinctively Adam's hand wandered\nto his revolver, and, with his finger on the trigger, he rested satisfied\nthat he was ready for any emergency.\n\nThere was certainly opportunity for the nigger's enjoyment, for the open\nwell-hole was almost under his nose, sending up such a stench as almost\nmade Adam sick, though Lady Arabella seemed not to mind it at all.  It\nwas like nothing that Adam had ever met with.  He compared it with all\nthe noxious experiences he had ever had--the drainage of war hospitals,\nof slaughter-houses, the refuse of dissecting rooms.  None of these was\nlike it, though it had something of them all, with, added, the sourness\nof chemical waste and the poisonous effluvium of the bilge of a water-\nlogged ship whereon a multitude of rats had been drowned.\n\nThen, quite unexpectedly, the negro noticed the presence of a third\nperson--Adam Salton!  He pulled out a pistol and shot at him, happily\nmissing.  Adam was himself usually a quick shot, but this time his mind\nhad been on something else and he was not ready.  However, he was quick\nto carry out an intention, and he was not a coward.  In another moment\nboth men were in grips.  Beside them was the dark well-hole, with that\nhorrid effluvium stealing up from its mysterious depths.\n\nAdam and Oolanga both had pistols; Lady Arabella, who had not one, was\nprobably the most ready of them all in the theory of shooting, but that\nbeing impossible, she made her effort in another way.  Gliding forward,\nshe tried to seize the African; but he eluded her grasp, just missing, in\ndoing so, falling into the mysterious hole.  As he swayed back to firm\nfoothold, he turned his own gun on her and shot.  Instinctively Adam\nleaped at his assailant; clutching at each other, they tottered on the\nvery brink.\n\nLady Arabella's anger, now fully awake, was all for Oolanga.  She moved\ntowards him with her hands extended, and had just seized him when the\ncatch of the locked box--due to some movement from within--flew open, and\nthe king-cobra-killer flew at her with a venomous fury impossible to\ndescribe.  As it seized her throat, she caught hold of it, and, with a\nfury superior to its own, tore it in two just as if it had been a sheet\nof paper.  The strength used for such an act must have been terrific.  In\nan instant, it seemed to spout blood and entrails, and was hurled into\nthe well-hole.  In another instant she had seized Oolanga, and with a\nswift rush had drawn him, her white arms encircling him, down with her\ninto the gaping aperture.\n\nAdam saw a medley of green and red lights blaze in a whirling circle, and\nas it sank down into the well, a pair of blazing green eyes became fixed,\nsank lower and lower with frightful rapidity, and disappeared, throwing\nupward the green light which grew more and more vivid every moment.  As\nthe light sank into the noisome depths, there came a shriek which chilled\nAdam's blood--a prolonged agony of pain and terror which seemed to have\nno end.\n\nAdam Salton felt that he would never be able to free his mind from the\nmemory of those dreadful moments.  The gloom which surrounded that\nhorrible charnel pit, which seemed to go down to the very bowels of the\nearth, conveyed from far down the sights and sounds of the nethermost\nhell.  The ghastly fate of the African as he sank down to his terrible\ndoom, his black face growing grey with terror, his white eyeballs, now\nlike veined bloodstone, rolling in the helpless extremity of fear.  The\nmysterious green light was in itself a milieu of horror.  And through it\nall the awful cry came up from that fathomless pit, whose entrance was\nflooded with spots of fresh blood.  Even the death of the fearless little\nsnake-killer--so fierce, so frightful, as if stained with a ferocity\nwhich told of no living force above earth, but only of the devils of the\npit--was only an incident.  Adam was in a state of intellectual tumult,\nwhich had no parallel in his experience.  He tried to rush away from the\nhorrible place; even the baleful green light, thrown up through the\ngloomy well-shaft, was dying away as its source sank deeper into the\nprimeval ooze.  The darkness was closing in on him in overwhelming\ndensity--darkness in such a place and with such a memory of it!\n\nHe made a wild rush forward--slipt on the steps in some sticky, acrid-\nsmelling mass that felt and smelt like blood, and, falling forward, felt\nhis way into the inner room, where the well-shaft was not.\n\nThen he rubbed his eyes in sheer amazement.  Up the stone steps from the\nnarrow door by which he had entered, glided the white-clad figure of Lady\nArabella, the only colour to be seen on her being blood-marks on her face\nand hands and throat.  Otherwise, she was calm and unruffled, as when\nearlier she stood aside for him to pass in through the narrow iron door.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX--AN ENEMY IN THE DARK\n\n\nAdam Salton went for a walk before returning to Lesser Hill; he felt that\nit might be well, not only to steady his nerves, shaken by the horrible\nscene, but to get his thoughts into some sort of order, so as to be ready\nto enter on the matter with Sir Nathaniel.  He was a little embarrassed\nas to telling his uncle, for affairs had so vastly progressed beyond his\noriginal view that he felt a little doubtful as to what would be the old\ngentleman's attitude when he should hear of the strange events for the\nfirst time.  Mr. Salton would certainly not be satisfied at being treated\nas an outsider with regard to such things, most of which had points of\ncontact with the inmates of his own house.  It was with an immense sense\nof relief that Adam heard that his uncle had telegraphed to the\nhousekeeper that he was detained by business at Walsall, where he would\nremain for the night; and that he would be back in the morning in time\nfor lunch.\n\nWhen Adam got home after his walk, he found Sir Nathaniel just going to\nbed.  He did not say anything to him then of what had happened, but\ncontented himself with arranging that they would walk together in the\nearly morning, as he had much to say that would require serious\nattention.\n\nStrangely enough he slept well, and awoke at dawn with his mind clear and\nhis nerves in their usual unshaken condition.  The maid brought up, with\nhis early morning cup of tea, a note which had been found in the letter-\nbox.  It was from Lady Arabella, and was evidently intended to put him on\nhis guard as to what he should say about the previous evening.\n\nHe read it over carefully several times, before he was satisfied that he\nhad taken in its full import.\n\n   \"DEAR MR. SALTON,\n\n   \"I cannot go to bed until I have written to you, so you must forgive\n   me if I disturb you, and at an unseemly time.  Indeed, you must also\n   forgive me if, in trying to do what is right, I err in saying too much\n   or too little.  The fact is that I am quite upset and unnerved by all\n   that has happened in this terrible night.  I find it difficult even to\n   write; my hands shake so that they are not under control, and I am\n   trembling all over with memory of the horrors we saw enacted before\n   our eyes.  I am grieved beyond measure that I should be, however\n   remotely, a cause of this horror coming on you.  Forgive me if you\n   can, and do not think too hardly of me.  This I ask with confidence,\n   for since we shared together the danger--the very pangs--of death, I\n   feel that we should be to one another something more than mere\n   friends, that I may lean on you and trust you, assured that your\n   sympathy and pity are for me.  You really must let me thank you for\n   the friendliness, the help, the confidence, the real aid at a time of\n   deadly danger and deadly fear which you showed me.  That awful man--I\n   shall see him for ever in my dreams.  His black, malignant face will\n   shut out all memory of sunshine and happiness.  I shall eternally see\n   his evil eyes as he threw himself into that well-hole in a vain effort\n   to escape from the consequences of his own misdoing.  The more I think\n   of it, the more apparent it seems to me that he had premeditated the\n   whole thing--of course, except his own horrible death.\n\n   \"Perhaps you have noticed a fur collar I occasionally wear.  It is one\n   of my most valued treasures--an ermine collar studded with emeralds.  I\n   had often seen the nigger's eyes gleam covetously when he looked at\n   it.  Unhappily, I wore it yesterday.  That may have been the cause\n   that lured the poor man to his doom.  On the very brink of the abyss\n   he tore the collar from my neck--that was the last I saw of him.  When\n   he sank into the hole, I was rushing to the iron door, which I pulled\n   behind me.  When I heard that soul-sickening yell, which marked his\n   disappearance in the chasm, I was more glad than I can say that my\n   eyes were spared the pain and horror which my ears had to endure.\n\n   \"When I tore myself out of the negro's grasp as he sank into the well-\n   hole; I realised what freedom meant.  Freedom!  Freedom!  Not only\n   from that noisome prison-house, which has now such a memory, but from\n   the more noisome embrace of that hideous monster.  Whilst I live, I\n   shall always thank you for my freedom.  A woman must sometimes express\n   her gratitude; otherwise it becomes too great to bear.  I am not a\n   sentimental girl, who merely likes to thank a man; I am a woman who\n   knows all, of bad as well as good, that life can give.  I have known\n   what it is to love and to lose.  But you must not let me bring any\n   unhappiness into your life.  I must live on--as I have lived--alone,\n   and, in addition, bear with other woes the memory of this latest\n   insult and horror.  In the meantime, I must get away as quickly as\n   possible from Diana's Grove.  In the morning I shall go up to town,\n   where I shall remain for a week--I cannot stay longer, as business\n   affairs demand my presence here.  I think, however, that a week in the\n   rush of busy London, surrounded with multitudes of commonplace people,\n   will help to soften--I cannot expect total obliteration--the terrible\n   images of the bygone night.  When I can sleep easily--which will be, I\n   hope, after a day or two--I shall be fit to return home and take up\n   again the burden which will, I suppose, always be with me.\n\n   \"I shall be most happy to see you on my return--or earlier, if my good\n   fortune sends you on any errand to London.  I shall stay at the\n   Mayfair Hotel.  In that busy spot we may forget some of the dangers\n   and horrors we have shared together.  Adieu, and thank you, again and\n   again, for all your kindness and consideration to me.\n\n   \"ARABELLA MARSH.\"\n\nAdam was surprised by this effusive epistle, but he determined to say\nnothing of it to Sir Nathaniel until he should have thought it well over.\nWhen Adam met Sir Nathaniel at breakfast, he was glad that he had taken\ntime to turn things over in his mind.  The result had been that not only\nwas he familiar with the facts in all their bearings, but he had already\nso far differentiated them that he was able to arrange them in his own\nmind according to their values.  Breakfast had been a silent function, so\nit did not interfere in any way with the process of thought.\n\nSo soon as the door was closed, Sir Nathaniel began:\n\n\"I see, Adam, that something has occurred, and that you have much to tell\nme.\"\n\n\"That is so, sir.  I suppose I had better begin by telling you all I\nknow--all that has happened since I left you yesterday?\"\n\nAccordingly Adam gave him details of all that had happened during the\nprevious evening.  He confined himself rigidly to the narration of\ncircumstances, taking care not to colour events by any comment of his\nown, or any opinion of the meaning of things which he did not fully\nunderstand.  At first, Sir Nathaniel seemed disposed to ask questions,\nbut shortly gave this up when he recognised that the narration was\nconcise and self-explanatory.  Thenceforth, he contented himself with\nquick looks and glances, easily interpreted, or by some acquiescent\nmotions of his hands, when such could be convenient, to emphasise his\nidea of the correctness of any inference.  Until Adam ceased speaking,\nhaving evidently come to an end of what he had to say with regard to this\nsection of his story, the elder man made no comment whatever.  Even when\nAdam took from his pocket Lady Arabella's letter, with the manifest\nintention of reading it, he did not make any comment.  Finally, when Adam\nfolded up the letter and put it, in its envelope, back in his pocket, as\nan intimation that he had now quite finished, the old diplomatist\ncarefully made a few notes in his pocket-book.\n\n\"Your narrative, my dear Adam, is altogether admirable.  I think I may\nnow take it that we are both well versed in the actual facts, and that\nour conference had better take the shape of a mutual exchange of ideas.\nLet us both ask questions as they may arise; and I do not doubt that we\nshall arrive at some enlightening conclusions.\"\n\n\"Will you kindly begin, sir?  I do not doubt that, with your longer\nexperience, you will be able to dissipate some of the fog which envelops\ncertain of the things which we have to consider.\"\n\n\"I hope so, my dear boy.  For a beginning, then, let me say that Lady\nArabella's letter makes clear some things which she intended--and also\nsome things which she did not intend.  But, before I begin to draw\ndeductions, let me ask you a few questions.  Adam, are you heart-whole,\nquite heart-whole, in the matter of Lady Arabella?\"\n\nHis companion answered at once, each looking the other straight in the\neyes during question and answer.\n\n\"Lady Arabella, sir, is a charming woman, and I should have deemed it a\nprivilege to meet her--to talk to her--even--since I am in the\nconfessional--to flirt a little with her.  But if you mean to ask if my\naffections are in any way engaged, I can emphatically answer 'No!'--as\nindeed you will understand when presently I give you the reason.  Apart\nfrom that, there are the unpleasant details we discussed the other day.\"\n\n\"Could you--would you mind giving me the reason now?  It will help us to\nunderstand what is before us, in the way of difficulty.\"\n\n\"Certainly, sir.  My reason, on which I can fully depend, is that I love\nanother woman!\"\n\n\"That clinches it.  May I offer my good wishes, and, I hope, my\ncongratulations?\"\n\n\"I am proud of your good wishes, sir, and I thank you for them.  But it\nis too soon for congratulations--the lady does not even know my hopes\nyet.  Indeed, I hardly knew them myself, as definite, till this moment.\"\n\n\"I take it then, Adam, that at the right time I may be allowed to know\nwho the lady is?\"\n\nAdam laughed a low, sweet laugh, such as ripples from a happy heart.\n\n\"There need not be an hour's, a minute's delay.  I shall be glad to share\nmy secret with you, sir.  The lady, sir, whom I am so happy as to love,\nand in whom my dreams of life-long happiness are centred, is Mimi\nWatford!\"\n\n\"Then, my dear Adam, I need not wait to offer congratulations.  She is\nindeed a very charming young lady.  I do not think I ever saw a girl who\nunited in such perfection the qualities of strength of character and\nsweetness of disposition.  With all my heart, I congratulate you.  Then I\nmay take it that my question as to your heart-wholeness is answered in\nthe affirmative?\"\n\n\"Yes; and now, sir, may I ask in turn why the question?\"\n\n\"Certainly!  I asked because it seems to me that we are coming to a point\nwhere my questions might be painful to you.\"\n\n\"It is not merely that I love Mimi, but I have reason to look on Lady\nArabella as her enemy,\" Adam continued.\n\n\"Her enemy?\"\n\n\"Yes.  A rank and unscrupulous enemy who is bent on her destruction.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel went to the door, looked outside it and returned, locking\nit carefully behind him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX--METABOLISM\n\n\n\"Am I looking grave?\" asked Sir Nathaniel inconsequently when he\nre-entered the room.\n\n\"You certainly are, sir.\"\n\n\"We little thought when first we met that we should be drawn into such a\nvortex.  Already we are mixed up in robbery, and probably murder, but--a\nthousand times worse than all the crimes in the calendar--in an affair of\nghastly mystery which has no bottom and no end--with forces of the most\nunnerving kind, which had their origin in an age when the world was\ndifferent from the world which we know.  We are going back to the origin\nof superstition--to an age when dragons tore each other in their slime.\nWe must fear nothing--no conclusion, however improbable, almost\nimpossible it may be.  Life and death is hanging on our judgment, not\nonly for ourselves, but for others whom we love.  Remember, I count on\nyou as I hope you count on me.\"\n\n\"I do, with all confidence.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Sir Nathaniel, \"let us think justly and boldly and fear\nnothing, however terrifying it may seem.  I suppose I am to take as exact\nin every detail your account of all the strange things which happened\nwhilst you were in Diana's Grove?\"\n\n\"So far as I know, yes.  Of course I may be mistaken in recollection of\nsome detail or another, but I am certain that in the main what I have\nsaid is correct.\"\n\n\"You feel sure that you saw Lady Arabella seize the negro round the neck,\nand drag him down with her into the hole?\"\n\n\"Absolutely certain, sir, otherwise I should have gone to her\nassistance.\"\n\n\"We have, then, an account of what happened from an eye-witness whom we\ntrust--that is yourself.  We have also another account, written by Lady\nArabella under her own hand.  These two accounts do not agree.  Therefore\nwe must take it that one of the two is lying.\"\n\n\"Apparently, sir.\"\n\n\"And that Lady Arabella is the liar!\"\n\n\"Apparently--as I am not.\"\n\n\"We must, therefore, try to find a reason for her lying.  She has nothing\nto fear from Oolanga, who is dead.  Therefore the only reason which could\nactuate her would be to convince someone else that she was blameless.\nThis 'someone' could not be you, for you had the evidence of your own\neyes.  There was no one else present; therefore it must have been an\nabsent person.\"\n\n\"That seems beyond dispute, sir.\"\n\n\"There is only one other person whose good opinion she could wish to\nkeep--Edgar Caswall.  He is the only one who fills the bill.  Her lies\npoint to other things besides the death of the African.  She evidently\nwanted it to be accepted that his falling into the well was his own act.\nI cannot suppose that she expected to convince you, the eye-witness; but\nif she wished later on to spread the story, it was wise of her to try to\nget your acceptance of it.\"\n\n\"That is so!\"\n\n\"Then there were other matters of untruth.  That, for instance, of the\nermine collar embroidered with emeralds.  If an understandable reason be\nrequired for this, it would be to draw attention away from the green\nlights which were seen in the room, and especially in the well-hole.  Any\nunprejudiced person would accept the green lights to be the eyes of a\ngreat snake, such as tradition pointed to living in the well-hole.  In\nfine, therefore, Lady Arabella wanted the general belief to be that there\nwas no snake of the kind in Diana's Grove.  For my own part, I don't\nbelieve in a partial liar--this art does not deal in veneer; a liar is a\nliar right through.  Self-interest may prompt falsity of the tongue; but\nif one prove to be a liar, nothing that he says can ever be believed.\nThis leads us to the conclusion that because she said or inferred that\nthere was no snake, we should look for one--and expect to find it, too.\n\n\"Now let me digress.  I live, and have for many years lived, in\nDerbyshire, a county more celebrated for its caves than any other county\nin England.  I have been through them all, and am familiar with every\nturn of them; as also with other great caves in Kentucky, in France, in\nGermany, and a host of other places--in many of these are tremendously\ndeep caves of narrow aperture, which are valued by intrepid explorers,\nwho descend narrow gullets of abysmal depth--and sometimes never return.\nIn many of the caverns in the Peak I am convinced that some of the\nsmaller passages were used in primeval times as the lairs of some of the\ngreat serpents of legend and tradition.  It may have been that such\ncaverns were formed in the usual geologic way--bubbles or flaws in the\nearth's crust--which were later used by the monsters of the period of the\nyoung world.  It may have been, of course, that some of them were worn\noriginally by water; but in time they all found a use when suitable for\nliving monsters.\n\n\"This brings us to another point, more difficult to accept and understand\nthan any other requiring belief in a base not usually accepted, or indeed\nentered on--whether such abnormal growths could have ever changed in\ntheir nature.  Some day the study of metabolism may progress so far as to\nenable us to accept structural changes proceeding from an intellectual or\nmoral base.  We may lean towards a belief that great animal strength may\nbe a sound base for changes of all sorts.  If this be so, what could be a\nmore fitting subject than primeval monsters whose strength was such as to\nallow a survival of thousands of years?  We do not know yet if brain can\nincrease and develop independently of other parts of the living\nstructure.\n\n\"After all, the mediaeval belief in the Philosopher's Stone which could\ntransmute metals, has its counterpart in the accepted theory of\nmetabolism which changes living tissue.  In an age of investigation like\nour own, when we are returning to science as the base of wonders--almost\nof miracles--we should be slow to refuse to accept facts, however\nimpossible they may seem to be.\n\n\"Let us suppose a monster of the early days of the world--a dragon of the\nprime--of vast age running into thousands of years, to whom had been\nconveyed in some way--it matters not--a brain just sufficient for the\nbeginning of growth.  Suppose the monster to be of incalculable size and\nof a strength quite abnormal--a veritable incarnation of animal strength.\nSuppose this animal is allowed to remain in one place, thus being removed\nfrom accidents of interrupted development; might not, would not this\ncreature, in process of time--ages, if necessary--have that rudimentary\nintelligence developed?  There is no impossibility in this; it is only\nthe natural process of evolution.  In the beginning, the instincts of\nanimals are confined to alimentation, self-protection, and the\nmultiplication of their species.  As time goes on and the needs of life\nbecome more complex, power follows need.  We have been long accustomed to\nconsider growth as applied almost exclusively to size in its various\naspects.  But Nature, who has no doctrinaire ideas, may equally apply it\nto concentration.  A developing thing may expand in any given way or\nform.  Now, it is a scientific law that increase implies gain and loss of\nvarious kinds; what a thing gains in one direction it may lose in\nanother.  May it not be that Mother Nature may deliberately encourage\ndecrease as well as increase--that it may be an axiom that what is gained\nin concentration is lost in size?  Take, for instance, monsters that\ntradition has accepted and localised, such as the Worm of Lambton or that\nof Spindleston Heugh.  If such a creature were, by its own process of\nmetabolism, to change much of its bulk for intellectual growth, we should\nat once arrive at a new class of creature--more dangerous, perhaps, than\nthe world has ever had any experience of--a force which can think, which\nhas no soul and no morals, and therefore no acceptance of responsibility.\nA snake would be a good illustration of this, for it is cold-blooded, and\ntherefore removed from the temptations which often weaken or restrict\nwarm-blooded creatures.  If, for instance, the Worm of Lambton--if such\never existed--were guided to its own ends by an organised intelligence\ncapable of expansion, what form of creature could we imagine which would\nequal it in potentialities of evil?  Why, such a being would devastate a\nwhole country.  Now, all these things require much thought, and we want\nto apply the knowledge usefully, and we should therefore be exact.  Would\nit not be well to resume the subject later in the day?\"\n\n\"I quite agree, sir.  I am in a whirl already; and want to attend\ncarefully to what you say; so that I may try to digest it.\"\n\nBoth men seemed fresher and better for the \"easy,\" and when they met in\nthe afternoon each of them had something to contribute to the general\nstock of information.  Adam, who was by nature of a more militant\ndisposition than his elderly friend, was glad to see that the conference\nat once assumed a practical trend.  Sir Nathaniel recognised this, and,\nlike an old diplomatist, turned it to present use.\n\n\"Tell me now, Adam, what is the outcome, in your own mind, of our\nconversation?\"\n\n\"That the whole difficulty already assumes practical shape; but with\nadded dangers, that at first I did not imagine.\"\n\n\"What is the practical shape, and what are the added dangers?  I am not\ndisputing, but only trying to clear my own ideas by the consideration of\nyours--\"\n\nSo Adam went on:\n\n\"In the past, in the early days of the world, there were monsters who\nwere so vast that they could exist for thousands of years.  Some of them\nmust have overlapped the Christian era.  They may have progressed\nintellectually in process of time.  If they had in any way so progressed,\nor even got the most rudimentary form of brain, they would be the most\ndangerous things that ever were in the world.  Tradition says that one of\nthese monsters lived in the Marsh of the East, and came up to a cave in\nDiana's Grove, which was also called the Lair of the White Worm.  Such\ncreatures may have grown down as well as up.  They _may_ have grown into,\nor something like, human beings.  Lady Arabella March is of snake nature.\nShe has committed crimes to our knowledge.  She retains something of the\nvast strength of her primal being--can see in the dark--has the eyes of a\nsnake.  She used the nigger, and then dragged him through the snake's\nhole down to the swamp; she is intent on evil, and hates some one we\nlove.  Result . . . \"\n\n\"Yes, the result?\"\n\n\"First, that Mimi Watford should be taken away at once--then--\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"The monster must be destroyed.\"\n\n\"Bravo!  That is a true and fearless conclusion.  At whatever cost, it\nmust be carried out.\"\n\n\"At once?\"\n\n\"Soon, at all events.  That creature's very existence is a danger.  Her\npresence in this neighbourhood makes the danger immediate.\"\n\nAs he spoke, Sir Nathaniel's mouth hardened and his eyebrows came down\ntill they met.  There was no doubting his concurrence in the resolution,\nor his readiness to help in carrying it out.  But he was an elderly man\nwith much experience and knowledge of law and diplomacy.  It seemed to\nhim to be a stern duty to prevent anything irrevocable taking place till\nit had been thought out and all was ready.  There were all sorts of legal\ncruxes to be thought out, not only regarding the taking of life, even of\na monstrosity in human form, but also of property.  Lady Arabella, be she\nwoman or snake or devil, owned the ground she moved in, according to\nBritish law, and the law is jealous and swift to avenge wrongs done\nwithin its ken.  All such difficulties should be--must be--avoided for\nMr. Salton's sake, for Adam's own sake, and, most of all, for Mimi\nWatford's sake.\n\nBefore he spoke again, Sir Nathaniel had made up his mind that he must\ntry to postpone decisive action until the circumstances on which they\ndepended--which, after all, were only problematical--should have been\ntested satisfactorily, one way or another.  When he did speak, Adam at\nfirst thought that his friend was wavering in his intention, or \"funking\"\nthe responsibility.  However, his respect for Sir Nathaniel was so great\nthat he would not act, or even come to a conclusion on a vital point,\nwithout his sanction.\n\nHe came close and whispered in his ear:\n\n\"We will prepare our plans to combat and destroy this horrible menace,\nafter we have cleared up some of the more baffling points.  Meanwhile, we\nmust wait for the night--I hear my uncle's footsteps echoing down the\nhall.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel nodded his approval.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI--GREEN LIGHT\n\n\nWhen old Mr. Salton had retired for the night, Adam and Sir Nathaniel\nreturned to the study.  Things went with great regularity at Lesser Hill,\nso they knew that there would be no interruption to their talk.\n\nWhen their cigars were lighted, Sir Nathaniel began.\n\n\"I hope, Adam, that you do not think me either slack or changeable of\npurpose.  I mean to go through this business to the bitter end--whatever\nit may be.  Be satisfied that my first care is, and shall be, the\nprotection of Mimi Watford.  To that I am pledged; my dear boy, we who\nare interested are all in the same danger.  That semi-human monster out\nof the pit hates and means to destroy us all--you and me certainly, and\nprobably your uncle.  I wanted especially to talk with you to-night, for\nI cannot help thinking that the time is fast coming--if it has not come\nalready--when we must take your uncle into our confidence.  It was one\nthing when fancied evils threatened, but now he is probably marked for\ndeath, and it is only right that he should know all.\"\n\n\"I am with you, sir.  Things have changed since we agreed to keep him out\nof the trouble.  Now we dare not; consideration for his feelings might\ncost his life.  It is a duty--and no light or pleasant one, either.  I\nhave not a shadow of doubt that he will want to be one with us in this.\nBut remember, we are his guests; his name, his honour, have to be thought\nof as well as his safety.\"\n\n\"All shall be as you wish, Adam.  And now as to what we are to do?  We\ncannot murder Lady Arabella off-hand.  Therefore we shall have to put\nthings in order for the killing, and in such a way that we cannot be\ntaxed with a crime.\"\n\n\"It seems to me, sir, that we are in an exceedingly tight place.  Our\nfirst difficulty is to know where to begin.  I never thought this\nfighting an antediluvian monster would be such a complicated job.  This\none is a woman, with all a woman's wit, combined with the heartlessness\nof a _cocotte_.  She has the strength and impregnability of a diplodocus.\nWe may be sure that in the fight that is before us there will be no\nsemblance of fair-play.  Also that our unscrupulous opponent will not\nbetray herself!\"\n\n\"That is so--but being feminine, she will probably over-reach herself.\nNow, Adam, it strikes me that, as we have to protect ourselves and others\nagainst feminine nature, our strong game will be to play our masculine\nagainst her feminine.  Perhaps we had better sleep on it.  She is a thing\nof the night; and the night may give us some ideas.\"\n\nSo they both turned in.\n\nAdam knocked at Sir Nathaniel's door in the grey of the morning, and, on\nbeing bidden, came into the room.  He had several letters in his hand.\nSir Nathaniel sat up in bed.\n\n\"Well!\"\n\n\"I should like to read you a few letters, but, of course, I shall not\nsend them unless you approve.  In fact\"--with a smile and a blush--\"there\nare several things which I want to do; but I hold my hand and my tongue\ntill I have your approval.\"\n\n\"Go on!\" said the other kindly.  \"Tell me all, and count at any rate on\nmy sympathy, and on my approval and help if I can see my way.\"\n\nAccordingly Adam proceeded:\n\n\"When I told you the conclusions at which I had arrived, I put in the\nforeground that Mimi Watford should, for the sake of her own safety, be\nremoved--and that the monster which had wrought all the harm should be\ndestroyed.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is so.\"\n\n\"To carry this into practice, sir, one preliminary is required--unless\nharm of another kind is to be faced.  Mimi should have some protector\nwhom all the world would recognise.  The only form recognised by\nconvention is marriage!\"\n\nSir Nathaniel smiled in a fatherly way.\n\n\"To marry, a husband is required.  And that husband should be you.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes.\"\n\n\"And the marriage should be immediate and secret--or, at least, not\nspoken of outside ourselves.  Would the young lady be agreeable to that\nproceeding?\"\n\n\"I do not know, sir!\"\n\n\"Then how are we to proceed?\"\n\n\"I suppose that we--or one of us--must ask her.\"\n\n\"Is this a sudden idea, Adam, a sudden resolution?\"\n\n\"A sudden resolution, sir, but not a sudden idea.  If she agrees, all is\nwell and good.  The sequence is obvious.\"\n\n\"And it is to be kept a secret amongst ourselves?\"\n\n\"I want no secret, sir, except for Mimi's good.  For myself, I should\nlike to shout it from the house-tops!  But we must be discreet; untimely\nknowledge to our enemy might work incalculable harm.\"\n\n\"And how would you suggest, Adam, that we could combine the momentous\nquestion with secrecy?\"\n\nAdam grew red and moved uneasily.\n\n\"Someone must ask her--as soon as possible!\"\n\n\"And that someone?\"\n\n\"I thought that you, sir, would be so good!\"\n\n\"God bless my soul!  This is a new kind of duty to take on--at my time of\nlife.  Adam, I hope you know that you can count on me to help in any way\nI can!\"\n\n\"I have already counted on you, sir, when I ventured to make such a\nsuggestion.  I can only ask,\" he added, \"that you will be more than ever\nkind to me--to us--and look on the painful duty as a voluntary act of\ngrace, prompted by kindness and affection.\"\n\n\"Painful duty!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Adam boldly.  \"Painful to you, though to me it would be all\njoyful.\"\n\n\"It is a strange job for an early morning!  Well, we all live and learn.\nI suppose the sooner I go the better.  You had better write a line for me\nto take with me.  For, you see, this is to be a somewhat unusual\ntransaction, and it may be embarrassing to the lady, even to myself.  So\nwe ought to have some sort of warrant, something to show that we have\nbeen mindful of her feelings.  It will not do to take acquiescence for\ngranted--although we act for her good.\"\n\n\"Sir Nathaniel, you are a true friend; I am sure that both Mimi and I\nshall be grateful to you for all our lives--however long they may be!\"\n\nSo the two talked it over and agreed as to points to be borne in mind by\nthe ambassador.  It was striking ten when Sir Nathaniel left the house,\nAdam seeing him quietly off.\n\nAs the young man followed him with wistful eyes--almost jealous of the\nprivilege which his kind deed was about to bring him--he felt that his\nown heart was in his friend's breast.\n\nThe memory of that morning was like a dream to all those concerned in it.\nSir Nathaniel had a confused recollection of detail and sequence, though\nthe main facts stood out in his memory boldly and clearly.  Adam Salton's\nrecollection was of an illimitable wait, filled with anxiety, hope, and\nchagrin, all dominated by a sense of the slow passage of time and\naccompanied by vague fears.  Mimi could not for a long time think at all,\nor recollect anything, except that Adam loved her and was saving her from\na terrible danger.  When she had time to think, later on, she wondered\nwhen she had any ignorance of the fact that Adam loved her, and that she\nloved him with all her heart.  Everything, every recollection however\nsmall, every feeling, seemed to fit into those elemental facts as though\nthey had all been moulded together.  The main and crowning recollection\nwas her saying goodbye to Sir Nathaniel, and entrusting to him loving\nmessages, straight from her heart, to Adam Salton, and of his bearing\nwhen--with an impulse which she could not check--she put her lips to his\nand kissed him.  Later, when she was alone and had time to think, it was\na passing grief to her that she would have to be silent, for a time, to\nLilla on the happy events of that strange mission.\n\nShe had, of course, agreed to keep all secret until Adam should give her\nleave to speak.\n\nThe advice and assistance of Sir Nathaniel was a great help to Adam in\ncarrying out his idea of marrying Mimi Watford without publicity.  He\nwent with him to London, and, with his influence, the young man obtained\nthe license of the Archbishop of Canterbury for a private marriage.  Sir\nNathaniel then persuaded old Mr. Salton to allow his nephew to spend a\nfew weeks with him at Doom Tower, and it was here that Mimi became Adam's\nwife.  But that was only the first step in their plans; before going\nfurther, however, Adam took his bride off to the Isle of Man.  He wished\nto place a stretch of sea between Mimi and the White Worm, while things\nmatured.  On their return, Sir Nathaniel met them and drove them at once\nto Doom, taking care to avoid any one that he knew on the journey.\n\nSir Nathaniel had taken care to have the doors and windows shut and\nlocked--all but the door used for their entry.  The shutters were up and\nthe blinds down.  Moreover, heavy curtains were drawn across the windows.\nWhen Adam commented on this, Sir Nathaniel said in a whisper:\n\n\"Wait till we are alone, and I'll tell you why this is done; in the\nmeantime not a word or a sign.  You will approve when we have had a talk\ntogether.\"\n\nThey said no more on the subject till after dinner, when they were\nensconced in Sir Nathaniel's study, which was on the top storey.  Doom\nTower was a lofty structure, situated on an eminence high up in the Peak.\nThe top commanded a wide prospect, ranging from the hills above the\nRibble to the near side of the Brow, which marked the northern bound of\nancient Mercia.  It was of the early Norman period, less than a century\nyounger than Castra Regis.  The windows of the study were barred and\nlocked, and heavy dark curtains closed them in.  When this was done not a\ngleam of light from the tower could be seen from outside.\n\nWhen they were alone, Sir Nathaniel explained that he had taken his old\nfriend, Mr. Salton, into full confidence, and that in future all would\nwork together.\n\n\"It is important for you to be extremely careful.  In spite of the fact\nthat our marriage was kept secret, as also your temporary absence, both\nare known.\"\n\n\"How?  To whom?\"\n\n\"How, I know not; but I am beginning to have an idea.\"\n\n\"To her?\" asked Adam, in momentary consternation.\n\nSir Nathaniel shivered perceptibly.\n\n\"The White Worm--yes!\"\n\nAdam noticed that from now on, his friend never spoke of Lady Arabella\notherwise, except when he wished to divert the suspicion of others.\n\nSir Nathaniel switched off the electric light, and when the room was\npitch dark, he came to Adam, took him by the hand, and led him to a seat\nset in the southern window.  Then he softly drew back a piece of the\ncurtain and motioned his companion to look out.\n\nAdam did so, and immediately shrank back as though his eyes had opened on\npressing danger.  His companion set his mind at rest by saying in a low\nvoice:\n\n\"It is all right; you may speak, but speak low.  There is no danger\nhere--at present!\"\n\nAdam leaned forward, taking care, however, not to press his face against\nthe glass.  What he saw would not under ordinary circumstances have\ncaused concern to anybody.  With his special knowledge, it was\nappalling--though the night was now so dark that in reality there was\nlittle to be seen.\n\nOn the western side of the tower stood a grove of old trees, of forest\ndimensions.  They were not grouped closely, but stood a little apart from\neach other, producing the effect of a row widely planted.  Over the tops\nof them was seen a green light, something like the danger signal at a\nrailway-crossing.  It seemed at first quite still; but presently, when\nAdam's eye became accustomed to it, he could see that it moved as if\ntrembling.  This at once recalled to Adam's mind the light quivering\nabove the well-hole in the darkness of that inner room at Diana's Grove,\nOolanga's awful shriek, and the hideous black face, now grown grey with\nterror, disappearing into the impenetrable gloom of the mysterious\norifice.  Instinctively he laid his hand on his revolver, and stood up\nready to protect his wife.  Then, seeing that nothing happened, and that\nthe light and all outside the tower remained the same, he softly pulled\nthe curtain over the window.\n\nSir Nathaniel switched on the light again, and in its comforting glow\nthey began to talk freely.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII--AT CLOSE QUARTERS\n\n\n\"She has diabolical cunning,\" said Sir Nathaniel.  \"Ever since you left,\nshe has ranged along the Brow and wherever you were accustomed to\nfrequent.  I have not heard whence the knowledge of your movements came\nto her, nor have I been able to learn any data whereon to found an\nopinion.  She seems to have heard both of your marriage and your absence;\nbut I gather, by inference, that she does not actually know where you and\nMimi are, or of your return.  So soon as the dusk fails, she goes out on\nher rounds, and before dawn covers the whole ground round the Brow, and\naway up into the heart of the Peak.  The White Worm, in her own proper\nshape, certainly has great facilities for the business on which she is\nnow engaged.  She can look into windows of any ordinary kind.  Happily,\nthis house is beyond her reach, if she wishes--as she manifestly does--to\nremain unrecognised.  But, even at this height, it is wise to show no\nlights, lest she might learn something of our presence or absence.\"\n\n\"Would it not be well, sir, if one of us could see this monster in her\nreal shape at close quarters?  I am willing to run the risk--for I take\nit there would be no slight risk in the doing.  I don't suppose anyone of\nour time has seen her close and lived to tell the tale.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel held up an expostulatory hand.\n\n\"Good God, lad, what are you suggesting?  Think of your wife, and all\nthat is at stake.\"\n\n\"It is of Mimi that I think--for her sake that I am willing to risk\nwhatever is to be risked.\"\n\nAdam's young bride was proud of her man, but she blanched at the thought\nof the ghastly White Worm.  Adam saw this and at once reassured her.\n\n\"So long as her ladyship does not know whereabout I am, I shall have as\nmuch safety as remains to us; bear in mind, my darling, that we cannot be\ntoo careful.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel realised that Adam was right; the White Worm had no\nsupernatural powers and could not harm them until she discovered their\nhiding place.  It was agreed, therefore, that the two men should go\ntogether.\n\nWhen the two men slipped out by the back door of the house, they walked\ncautiously along the avenue which trended towards the west.  Everything\nwas pitch dark--so dark that at times they had to feel their way by the\npalings and tree-trunks.  They could still see, seemingly far in front of\nthem and high up, the baleful light which at the height and distance\nseemed like a faint line.  As they were now on the level of the ground,\nthe light seemed infinitely higher than it had from the top of the tower.\nAt the sight Adam's heart fell; the danger of the desperate enterprise\nwhich he had undertaken burst upon him.  But this feeling was shortly\nfollowed by another which restored him to himself--a fierce loathing, and\na desire to kill, such as he had never experienced before.\n\nThey went on for some distance on a level road, fairly wide, from which\nthe green light was visible.  Here Sir Nathaniel spoke softly, placing\nhis lips to Adam's ear for safety.\n\n\"We know nothing whatever of this creature's power of hearing or\nsmelling, though I presume that both are of no great strength.  As to\nseeing, we may presume the opposite, but in any case we must try to keep\nin the shade behind the tree-trunks.  The slightest error would be fatal\nto us.\"\n\nAdam only nodded, in case there should be any chance of the monster\nseeing the movement.\n\nAfter a time that seemed interminable, they emerged from the circling\nwood.  It was like coming out into sunlight by comparison with the misty\nblackness which had been around them.  There was light enough to see by,\nthough not sufficient to distinguish things at a distance.  Adam's eyes\nsought the green light in the sky.  It was still in about the same place,\nbut its surroundings were more visible.  It was now at the summit of what\nseemed to be a long white pole, near the top of which were two pendant\nwhite masses, like rudimentary arms or fins.  The green light, strangely\nenough, did not seem lessened by the surrounding starlight, but had a\nclearer effect and a deeper green.  Whilst they were carefully regarding\nthis--Adam with the aid of an opera-glass--their nostrils were assailed\nby a horrid stench, something like that which rose from the well-hole in\nDiana's Grove.\n\nBy degrees, as their eyes got the right focus, they saw an immense\ntowering mass that seemed snowy white.  It was tall and thin.  The lower\npart was hidden by the trees which lay between, but they could follow the\ntall white shaft and the duplicate green lights which topped it.  As they\nlooked there was a movement--the shaft seemed to bend, and the line of\ngreen light descended amongst the trees.  They could see the green light\ntwinkle as it passed between the obstructing branches.\n\nSeeing where the head of the monster was, the two men ventured a little\nfurther forward, and saw that the hidden mass at the base of the shaft\nwas composed of vast coils of the great serpent's body, forming a base\nfrom which the upright mass rose.  As they looked, this lower mass moved,\nthe glistening folds catching the moonlight, and they could see that the\nmonster's progress was along the ground.  It was coming towards them at a\nswift pace, so they turned and ran, taking care to make as little noise\nas possible, either by their footfalls or by disturbing the undergrowth\nclose to them.  They did not stop or pause till they saw before them the\nhigh dark tower of Doom.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII--IN THE ENEMY'S HOUSE\n\n\nSir Nathaniel was in the library next morning, after breakfast, when Adam\ncame to him carrying a letter.\n\n\"Her ladyship doesn't lose any time.  She has begun work already!\"\n\nSir Nathaniel, who was writing at a table near the window, looked up.\n\n\"What is it?\" said he.\n\nAdam held out the letter he was carrying.  It was in a blazoned envelope.\n\n\"Ha!\" said Sir Nathaniel, \"from the White Worm!  I expected something of\nthe kind.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Adam, \"how could she have known we were here?  She didn't\nknow last night.\"\n\n\"I don't think we need trouble about that, Adam.  There is so much we do\nnot understand.  This is only another mystery.  Suffice it that she does\nknow--perhaps it is all the better and safer for us.\"\n\n\"How is that?\" asked Adam with a puzzled look.\n\n\"General process of reasoning, my boy; and the experience of some years\nin the diplomatic world.  This creature is a monster without heart or\nconsideration for anything or anyone.  She is not nearly so dangerous in\nthe open as when she has the dark to protect her.  Besides, we know, by\nour own experience of her movements, that for some reason she shuns\npublicity.  In spite of her vast bulk and abnormal strength, she is\nafraid to attack openly.  After all, she is only a snake and with a\nsnake's nature, which is to keep low and squirm, and proceed by stealth\nand cunning.  She will never attack when she can run away, although she\nknows well that running away would probably be fatal to her.  What is the\nletter about?\"\n\nSir Nathaniel's voice was calm and self-possessed.  When he was engaged\nin any struggle of wits he was all diplomatist.\n\n\"She asks Mimi and me to tea this afternoon at Diana's Grove, and hopes\nthat you also will favour her.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel smiled.\n\n\"Please ask Mrs. Salton to accept for us all.\"\n\n\"She means some deadly mischief.  Surely--surely it would be wiser not.\"\n\n\"It is an old trick that we learn early in diplomacy, Adam--to fight on\nground of your own choice.  It is true that she suggested the place on\nthis occasion; but by accepting it we make it ours.  Moreover, she will\nnot be able to understand our reason for doing so, and her own bad\nconscience--if she has any, bad or good--and her own fears and doubts\nwill play our game for us.  No, my dear boy, let us accept, by all\nmeans.\"\n\nAdam said nothing, but silently held out his hand, which his companion\nshook: no words were necessary.\n\nWhen it was getting near tea-time, Mimi asked Sir Nathaniel how they were\ngoing.\n\n\"We must make a point of going in state.  We want all possible\npublicity.\"  Mimi looked at him inquiringly.  \"Certainly, my dear, in the\npresent circumstances publicity is a part of safety.  Do not be surprised\nif, whilst we are at Diana's Grove, occasional messages come for you--for\nall or any of us.\"\n\n\"I see!\" said Mrs. Salton.  \"You are taking no chances.\"\n\n\"None, my dear.  All I have learned at foreign courts, and amongst\ncivilised and uncivilised people, is going to be utilised within the next\ncouple of hours.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel's voice was full of seriousness, and it brought to Mimi in\na convincing way the awful gravity of the occasion.\n\nIn due course, they set out in a carriage drawn by a fine pair of horses,\nwho soon devoured the few miles of their journey.  Before they came to\nthe gate, Sir Nathaniel turned to Mimi.\n\n\"I have arranged with Adam certain signals which may be necessary if\ncertain eventualities occur.  These need be nothing to do with you\ndirectly.  But bear in mind that if I ask you or Adam to do anything, do\nnot lose a second in the doing of it.  We must try to pass off such\nmoments with an appearance of unconcern.  In all probability, nothing\nrequiring such care will occur.  The White Worm will not try force,\nthough she has so much of it to spare.  Whatever she may attempt to-day,\nof harm to any of us, will be in the way of secret plot.  Some other time\nshe may try force, but--if I am able to judge such a thing--not to-day.\nThe messengers who may ask for any of us will not be witnesses only, they\nmay help to stave off danger.\"  Seeing query in her face, he went on: \"Of\nwhat kind the danger may be, I know not, and cannot guess.  It will\ndoubtless be some ordinary circumstance; but none the less dangerous on\nthat account.  Here we are at the gate.  Now, be careful in all matters,\nhowever small.  To keep your head is half the battle.\"\n\nThere were a number of men in livery in the hall when they arrived.  The\ndoors of the drawing-room were thrown open, and Lady Arabella came forth\nand offered them cordial welcome.  This having been got over, Lady\nArabella led them into another room where tea was served.\n\nAdam was acutely watchful and suspicious of everything, and saw on the\nfar side of this room a panelled iron door of the same colour and\nconfiguration as the outer door of the room where was the well-hole\nwherein Oolanga had disappeared.  Something in the sight alarmed him, and\nhe quietly stood near the door.  He made no movement, even of his eyes,\nbut he could see that Sir Nathaniel was watching him intently, and, he\nfancied, with approval.\n\nThey all sat near the table spread for tea, Adam still near the door.\nLady Arabella fanned herself, complaining of heat, and told one of the\nfootmen to throw all the outer doors open.\n\nTea was in progress when Mimi suddenly started up with a look of fright\non her face; at the same moment, the men became cognisant of a thick\nsmoke which began to spread through the room--a smoke which made those\nwho experienced it gasp and choke.  The footmen began to edge uneasily\ntowards the inner door.  Denser and denser grew the smoke, and more acrid\nits smell.  Mimi, towards whom the draught from the open door wafted the\nsmoke, rose up choking, and ran to the inner door, which she threw open\nto its fullest extent, disclosing on the outside a curtain of thin silk,\nfixed to the doorposts.  The draught from the open door swayed the thin\nsilk towards her, and in her fright, she tore down the curtain, which\nenveloped her from head to foot.  Then she ran through the still open\ndoor, heedless of the fact that she could not see where she was going.\nAdam, followed by Sir Nathaniel, rushed forward and joined her--Adam\ncatching his wife by the arm and holding her tight.  It was well that he\ndid so, for just before her lay the black orifice of the well-hole,\nwhich, of course, she could not see with the silk curtain round her head.\nThe floor was extremely slippery; something like thick oil had been\nspilled where she had to pass; and close to the edge of the hole her feet\nshot from under her, and she stumbled forward towards the well-hole.\n\nWhen Adam saw Mimi slip, he flung himself backward, still holding her.\nHis weight told, and he dragged her up from the hole and they fell\ntogether on the floor outside the zone of slipperiness.  In a moment he\nhad raised her up, and together they rushed out through the open door\ninto the sunlight, Sir Nathaniel close behind them.  They were all pale\nexcept the old diplomatist, who looked both calm and cool.  It sustained\nand cheered Adam and his wife to see him thus master of himself.  Both\nmanaged to follow his example, to the wonderment of the footmen, who saw\nthe three who had just escaped a terrible danger walking together gaily,\nas, under the guiding pressure of Sir Nathaniel's hand, they turned to re-\nenter the house.\n\nLady Arabella, whose face had blanched to a deadly white, now resumed her\nministrations at the tea-board as though nothing unusual had happened.\nThe slop-basin was full of half-burned brown paper, over which tea had\nbeen poured.\n\nSir Nathaniel had been narrowly observing his hostess, and took the first\nopportunity afforded him of whispering to Adam:\n\n\"The real attack is to come--she is too quiet.  When I give my hand to\nyour wife to lead her out, come with us--and caution her to hurry.  Don't\nlose a second, even if you have to make a scene.  Hs-s-s-h!\"\n\nThen they resumed their places close to the table, and the servants, in\nobedience to Lady Arabella's order, brought in fresh tea.\n\nThence on, that tea-party seemed to Adam, whose faculties were at their\nutmost intensity, like a terrible dream.  As for poor Mimi, she was so\noverwrought both with present and future fear, and with horror at the\ndanger she had escaped, that her faculties were numb.  However, she was\nbraced up for a trial, and she felt assured that whatever might come she\nwould be able to go through with it.  Sir Nathaniel seemed just as\nusual--suave, dignified, and thoughtful--perfect master of himself.\n\nTo her husband, it was evident that Mimi was ill at ease.  The way she\nkept turning her head to look around her, the quick coming and going of\nthe colour of her face, her hurried breathing, alternating with periods\nof suspicious calm, were evidences of mental perturbation.  To her, the\nattitude of Lady Arabella seemed compounded of social sweetness and\npersonal consideration.  It would be hard to imagine more thoughtful and\ntender kindness towards an honoured guest.\n\nWhen tea was over and the servants had come to clear away the cups, Lady\nArabella, putting her arm round Mimi's waist, strolled with her into an\nadjoining room, where she collected a number of photographs which were\nscattered about, and, sitting down beside her guest, began to show them\nto her.  While she was doing this, the servants closed all the doors of\nthe suite of rooms, as well as that which opened from the room\noutside--that of the well-hole into the avenue.  Suddenly, without any\nseeming cause, the light in the room began to grow dim.  Sir Nathaniel,\nwho was sitting close to Mimi, rose to his feet, and, crying, \"Quick!\"\ncaught hold of her hand and began to drag her from the room.  Adam caught\nher other hand, and between them they drew her through the outer door\nwhich the servants were beginning to close.  It was difficult at first to\nfind the way, the darkness was so great; but to their relief when Adam\nwhistled shrilly, the carriage and horses, which had been waiting in the\nangle of the avenue, dashed up.  Her husband and Sir Nathaniel\nlifted--almost threw--Mimi into the carriage.  The postillion plied whip\nand spur, and the vehicle, rocking with its speed, swept through the gate\nand tore up the road.  Behind them was a hubbub--servants rushing about,\norders being shouted out, doors shutting, and somewhere, seemingly far\nback in the house, a strange noise.  Every nerve of the horses was\nstrained as they dashed recklessly along the road.  The two men held Mimi\nbetween them, the arms of both of them round her as though protectingly.\nAs they went, there was a sudden rise in the ground; but the horses,\nbreathing heavily, dashed up it at racing speed, not slackening their\npace when the hill fell away again, leaving them to hurry along the\ndowngrade.\n\nIt would be foolish to say that neither Adam nor Mimi had any fear in\nreturning to Doom Tower.  Mimi felt it more keenly than her husband,\nwhose nerves were harder, and who was more inured to danger.  Still she\nbore up bravely, and as usual the effort was helpful to her.  When once\nshe was in the study in the top of the turret, she almost forgot the\nterrors which lay outside in the dark.  She did not attempt to peep out\nof the window; but Adam did--and saw nothing.  The moonlight showed all\nthe surrounding country, but nowhere was to be observed that tremulous\nline of green light.\n\nThe peaceful night had a good effect on them all; danger, being unseen,\nseemed far off.  At times it was hard to realise that it had ever been.\nWith courage restored, Adam rose early and walked along the Brow, seeing\nno change in the signs of life in Castra Regis.  What he did see, to his\nwonder and concern, on his returning homeward, was Lady Arabella, in her\ntight-fitting white dress and ermine collar, but without her emeralds;\nshe was emerging from the gate of Diana's Grove and walking towards the\nCastle.  Pondering on this, and trying to find some meaning in it,\noccupied his thoughts till he joined Mimi and Sir Nathaniel at breakfast.\nThey began the meal in silence.  What had been had been, and was known to\nthem all.  Moreover, it was not a pleasant topic.\n\nA fillip was given to the conversation when Adam told of his seeing Lady\nArabella, on her way to Castra Regis.  They each had something to say of\nher, and of what her wishes or intentions were towards Edgar Caswall.\nMimi spoke bitterly of her in every aspect.  She had not forgotten--and\nnever would--never could--the occasion when, to harm Lilla, the woman had\nconsorted even with the nigger.  As a social matter, she was disgusted\nwith her for following up the rich landowner--\"throwing herself at his\nhead so shamelessly,\" was how she expressed it.  She was interested to\nknow that the great kite still flew from Caswall's tower.  But beyond\nsuch matters she did not try to go.  The only comment she made was of\nstrongly expressed surprise at her ladyship's \"cheek\" in ignoring her own\ncriminal acts, and her impudence in taking it for granted that others had\noverlooked them also.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV--A STARTLING PROPOSITION\n\n\nThe more Mimi thought over the late events, the more puzzled she was.\nWhat did it all mean--what could it mean, except that there was an error\nof fact somewhere.  Could it be possible that some of them--all of them\nhad been mistaken, that there had been no White Worm at all?  On either\nside of her was a belief impossible of reception.  Not to believe in what\nseemed apparent was to destroy the very foundations of belief . . . yet\nin old days there had been monsters on the earth, and certainly some\npeople had believed in just such mysterious changes of identity.  It was\nall very strange.  Just fancy how any stranger--say a doctor--would\nregard her, if she were to tell him that she had been to a tea-party with\nan antediluvian monster, and that they had been waited on by up-to-date\nmen-servants.\n\nAdam had returned, exhilarated by his walk, and more settled in his mind\nthan he had been for some time.  Like Mimi, he had gone through the phase\nof doubt and inability to believe in the reality of things, though it had\nnot affected him to the same extent.  The idea, however, that his wife\nwas suffering ill-effects from her terrible ordeal, braced him up.  He\nremained with her for a time, then he sought Sir Nathaniel in order to\ntalk over the matter with him.  He knew that the calm common sense and\nself-reliance of the old man, as well as his experience, would be helpful\nto them all.\n\nSir Nathaniel had come to the conclusion that, for some reason which he\ndid not understand, Lady Arabella had changed her plans, and, for the\npresent at all events, was pacific.  He was inclined to attribute her\nchanged demeanour to the fact that her influence over Edgar Caswall was\nso far increased, as to justify a more fixed belief in his submission to\nher charms.\n\nAs a matter of fact, she had seen Caswall that morning when she visited\nCastra Regis, and they had had a long talk together, during which the\npossibility of their union had been discussed.  Caswall, without being\nenthusiastic on the subject, had been courteous and attentive; as she had\nwalked back to Diana's Grove, she almost congratulated herself on her new\nsettlement in life.  That the idea was becoming fixed in her mind, was\nshown by a letter which she wrote later in the day to Adam Salton, and\nsent to him by hand.  It ran as follows:\n\n   \"DEAR MR. SALTON,\n\n   \"I wonder if you would kindly advise, and, if possible, help me in a\n   matter of business.  I have been for some time trying to make up my\n   mind to sell Diana's Grove, I have put off and put off the doing of it\n   till now.  The place is my own property, and no one has to be\n   consulted with regard to what I may wish to do about it.  It was\n   bought by my late husband, Captain Adolphus Ranger March, who had\n   another residence, The Crest, Appleby.  He acquired all rights of all\n   kinds, including mining and sporting.  When he died, he left his whole\n   property to me.  I shall feel leaving this place, which has become\n   endeared to me by many sacred memories and affections--the\n   recollection of many happy days of my young married life, and the more\n   than happy memories of the man I loved and who loved me so much.  I\n   should be willing to sell the place for any fair price--so long, of\n   course, as the purchaser was one I liked and of whom I approved.  May\n   I say that you yourself would be the ideal person.  But I dare not\n   hope for so much.  It strikes me, however, that among your Australian\n   friends may be someone who wishes to make a settlement in the Old\n   Country, and would care to fix the spot in one of the most historic\n   regions in England, full of romance and legend, and with a\n   never-ending vista of historical interest--an estate which, though\n   small, is in perfect condition and with illimitable possibilities of\n   development, and many doubtful--or unsettled--rights which have\n   existed before the time of the Romans or even Celts, who were the\n   original possessors.  In addition, the house has been kept up to the\n   _dernier cri_.  Immediate possession can be arranged.  My lawyers can\n   provide you, or whoever you may suggest, with all business and\n   historical details.  A word from you of acceptance or refusal is all\n   that is necessary, and we can leave details to be thrashed out by our\n   agents.  Forgive me, won't you, for troubling you in the matter, and\n   believe me, yours very sincerely.\n\n   \"ARABELLA MARCH.\"\n\nAdam read this over several times, and then, his mind being made up, he\nwent to Mimi and asked if she had any objection.  She answered--after a\nshudder--that she was, in this, as in all things, willing to do whatever\nhe might wish.\n\n\"Dearest, I am willing that you should judge what is best for us.  Be\nquite free to act as you see your duty, and as your inclination calls.  We\nare in the hands of God, and He has hitherto guided us, and will do so to\nHis own end.\"\n\nFrom his wife's room Adam Salton went straight to the study in the tower,\nwhere he knew Sir Nathaniel would be at that hour.  The old man was\nalone, so, when he had entered in obedience to the \"Come in,\" which\nanswered his query, he closed the door and sat down beside him.\n\n\"Do you think, sir, that it would be well for me to buy Diana's Grove?\"\n\n\"God bless my soul!\" said the old man, startled, \"why on earth would you\nwant to do that?\"\n\n\"Well, I have vowed to destroy that White Worm, and my being able to do\nwhatever I may choose with the Lair would facilitate matters and avoid\ncomplications.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel hesitated longer than usual before speaking.  He was\nthinking deeply.\n\n\"Yes, Adam, there is much common sense in your suggestion, though it\nstartled me at first.  I think that, for all reasons, you would do well\nto buy the property and to have the conveyance settled at once.  If you\nwant more money than is immediately convenient, let me know, so that I\nmay be your banker.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir, most heartily; but I have more money at immediate call\nthan I shall want.  I am glad you approve.\"\n\n\"The property is historic, and as time goes on it will increase in value.\nMoreover, I may tell you something, which indeed is only a surmise, but\nwhich, if I am right, will add great value to the place.\"  Adam listened.\n\"Has it ever struck you why the old name, 'The Lair of the White Worm,'\nwas given?  We know that there was a snake which in early days was called\na worm; but why white?\"\n\n\"I really don't know, sir; I never thought of it.  I simply took it for\ngranted.\"\n\n\"So did I at first--long ago.  But later I puzzled my brain for a\nreason.\"\n\n\"And what was the reason, sir?\"\n\n\"Simply and solely because the snake or worm _was_ white.  We are near\nthe county of Stafford, where the great industry of china-burning was\noriginated and grew.  Stafford owes much of its wealth to the large\ndeposits of the rare china clay found in it from time to time.  These\ndeposits become in time pretty well exhausted; but for centuries Stafford\nadventurers looked for the special clay, as Ohio and Pennsylvania farmers\nand explorers looked for oil.  Anyone owning real estate on which china\nclay can be discovered strikes a sort of gold mine.\"\n\n\"Yes, and then--\"  The young man looked puzzled.\n\n\"The original 'Worm' so-called, from which the name of the place came,\nhad to find a direct way down to the marshes and the mud-holes.  Now, the\nclay is easily penetrable, and the original hole probably pierced a bed\nof china clay.  When once the way was made it would become a sort of\nhighway for the Worm.  But as much movement was necessary to ascend such\na great height, some of the clay would become attached to its rough skin\nby attrition.  The downway must have been easy work, but the ascent was\ndifferent, and when the monster came to view in the upper world, it would\nbe fresh from contact with the white clay.  Hence the name, which has no\ncryptic significance, but only fact.  Now, if that surmise be true--and I\ndo not see why not--there must be a deposit of valuable clay--possibly of\nimmense depth.\"\n\nAdam's comment pleased the old gentleman.\n\n\"I have it in my bones, sir, that you have struck--or rather reasoned\nout--a great truth.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel went on cheerfully.  \"When the world of commerce wakes up\nto the value of your find, it will be as well that your title to\nownership has been perfectly secured.  If anyone ever deserved such a\ngain, it is you.\"\n\nWith his friend's aid, Adam secured the property without loss of time.\nThen he went to see his uncle, and told him about it.  Mr. Salton was\ndelighted to find his young relative already constructively the owner of\nso fine an estate--one which gave him an important status in the county.\nHe made many anxious enquiries about Mimi, and the doings of the White\nWorm, but Adam reassured him.\n\nThe next morning, when Adam went to his host in the smoking-room, Sir\nNathaniel asked him how he purposed to proceed with regard to keeping his\nvow.\n\n\"It is a difficult matter which you have undertaken.  To destroy such a\nmonster is something like one of the labours of Hercules, in that not\nonly its size and weight and power of using them in little-known ways are\nagainst you, but the occult side is alone an unsurpassable difficulty.\nThe Worm is already master of all the elements except fire--and I do not\nsee how fire can be used for the attack.  It has only to sink into the\nearth in its usual way, and you could not overtake it if you had the\nresources of the biggest coal-mine in existence.  But I daresay you have\nmapped out some plan in your mind,\" he added courteously.\n\n\"I have, sir.  But, of course, it may not stand the test of practice.\"\n\n\"May I know the idea?\"\n\n\"Well, sir, this was my argument: At the time of the Chartist trouble, an\nidea spread amongst financial circles that an attack was going to be made\non the Bank of England.  Accordingly, the directors of that institution\nconsulted many persons who were supposed to know what steps should be\ntaken, and it was finally decided that the best protection against\nfire--which is what was feared--was not water but sand.  To carry the\nscheme into practice great store of fine sea-sand--the kind that blows\nabout and is used to fill hour-glasses--was provided throughout the\nbuilding, especially at the points liable to attack, from which it could\nbe brought into use.\n\n\"I propose to provide at Diana's Grove, as soon as it comes into my\npossession, an enormous amount of such sand, and shall take an early\noccasion of pouring it into the well-hole, which it will in time choke.\nThus Lady Arabella, in her guise of the White Worm, will find herself cut\noff from her refuge.  The hole is a narrow one, and is some hundreds of\nfeet deep.  The weight of the sand this can contain would not in itself\nbe sufficient to obstruct; but the friction of such a body working up\nagainst it would be tremendous.\"\n\n\"One moment.  What use would the sand be for destruction?\"\n\n\"None, directly; but it would hold the struggling body in place till the\nrest of my scheme came into practice.\"\n\n\"And what is the rest?\"\n\n\"As the sand is being poured into the well-hole, quantities of dynamite\ncan also be thrown in!\"\n\n\"Good.  But how would the dynamite explode--for, of course, that is what\nyou intend.  Would not some sort of wire or fuse he required for each\nparcel of dynamite?\"\n\nAdam smiled.\n\n\"Not in these days, sir.  That was proved in New York.  A thousand pounds\nof dynamite, in sealed canisters, was placed about some workings.  At the\nlast a charge of gunpowder was fired, and the concussion exploded the\ndynamite.  It was most successful.  Those who were non-experts in high\nexplosives expected that every pane of glass in New York would be\nshattered.  But, in reality, the explosive did no harm outside the area\nintended, although sixteen acres of rock had been mined and only the\nsupporting walls and pillars had been left intact.  The whole of the\nrocks were shattered.\"\n\nSir Nathaniel nodded approval.\n\n\"That seems a good plan--a very excellent one.  But if it has to tear\ndown so many feet of precipice, it may wreck the whole neighbourhood.\"\n\n\"And free it for ever from a monster,\" added Adam, as he left the room to\nfind his wife.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV--THE LAST BATTLE\n\n\nLady Arabella had instructed her solicitors to hurry on with the\nconveyance of Diana's Grove, so no time was lost in letting Adam Salton\nhave formal possession of the estate.  After his interview with Sir\nNathaniel, he had taken steps to begin putting his plan into action.  In\norder to accumulate the necessary amount of fine sea-sand, he ordered the\nsteward to prepare for an elaborate system of top-dressing all the\ngrounds.  A great heap of the sand, brought from bays on the Welsh coast,\nbegan to grow at the back of the Grove.  No one seemed to suspect that it\nwas there for any purpose other than what had been given out.\n\nLady Arabella, who alone could have guessed, was now so absorbed in her\nmatrimonial pursuit of Edgar Caswall, that she had neither time nor\ninclination for thought extraneous to this.  She had not yet moved from\nthe house, though she had formally handed over the estate.\n\nAdam put up a rough corrugated-iron shed behind the Grove, in which he\nstored his explosives.  All being ready for his great attempt whenever\nthe time should come, he was now content to wait, and, in order to pass\nthe time, interested himself in other things--even in Caswall's great\nkite, which still flew from the high tower of Castra Regis.\n\nThe mound of fine sand grew to proportions so vast as to puzzle the\nbailiffs and farmers round the Brow.  The hour of the intended cataclysm\nwas approaching apace.  Adam wished--but in vain--for an opportunity,\nwhich would appear to be natural, of visiting Caswall in the turret of\nCastra Regis.  At last, one morning, he met Lady Arabella moving towards\nthe Castle, so he took his courage _a deux mains_ and asked to be allowed\nto accompany her.  She was glad, for her own purposes, to comply with his\nwishes.  So together they entered, and found their way to the\nturret-room.  Caswall was much surprised to see Adam come to his house,\nbut lent himself to the task of seeming to be pleased.  He played the\nhost so well as to deceive even Adam.  They all went out on the turret\nroof, where he explained to his guests the mechanism for raising and\nlowering the kite, taking also the opportunity of testing the movements\nof the multitudes of birds, how they answered almost instantaneously to\nthe lowering or raising of the kite.\n\nAs Lady Arabella walked home with Adam from Castra Regis, she asked him\nif she might make a request.  Permission having been accorded, she\nexplained that before she finally left Diana's Grove, where she had lived\nso long, she had a desire to know the depth of the well-hole.  Adam was\nreally happy to meet her wishes, not from any sentiment, but because he\nwished to give some valid and ostensible reason for examining the passage\nof the Worm, which would obviate any suspicion resulting from his being\non the premises.  He brought from London a Kelvin sounding apparatus,\nwith a sufficient length of piano-wire for testing any probable depth.\nThe wire passed easily over the running wheel, and when this was once\nfixed over the hole, he was satisfied to wait till the most advantageous\ntime for his final experiment.\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the meantime, affairs had been going quietly at Mercy Farm.  Lilla, of\ncourse, felt lonely in the absence of her cousin, but the even tenor of\nlife went on for her as for others.  After the first shock of parting was\nover, things went back to their accustomed routine.  In one respect,\nhowever, there was a marked difference.  So long as home conditions had\nremained unchanged, Lilla was content to put ambition far from her, and\nto settle down to the life which had been hers as long as she could\nremember.  But Mimi's marriage set her thinking; naturally, she came to\nthe conclusion that she too might have a mate.  There was not for her\nmuch choice--there was little movement in the matrimonial direction at\nthe farmhouse.  She did not approve of the personality of Edgar Caswall,\nand his struggle with Mimi had frightened her; but he was unmistakably an\nexcellent _parti_, much better than she could have any right to expect.\nThis weighs much with a woman, and more particularly one of her class.\nSo, on the whole, she was content to let things take their course, and to\nabide by the issue.\n\nAs time went on, she had reason to believe that things did not point to\nhappiness.  She could not shut her eyes to certain disturbing facts,\namongst which were the existence of Lady Arabella and her growing\nintimacy with Edgar Caswall; as well as his own cold and haughty nature,\nso little in accord with the ardour which is the foundation of a young\nmaid's dreams of happiness.  How things would, of necessity, alter if she\nwere to marry, she was afraid to think.  All told, the prospect was not\nhappy for her, and she had a secret longing that something might occur to\nupset the order of things as at present arranged.\n\nWhen Lilla received a note from Edgar Caswall asking if he might come to\ntea on the following afternoon, her heart sank within her.  If it was\nonly for her father's sake, she must not refuse him or show any\ndisinclination which he might construe into incivility.  She missed Mimi\nmore than she could say or even dared to think.  Hitherto, she had always\nlooked to her cousin for sympathy, for understanding, for loyal support.\nNow she and all these things, and a thousand others--gentle, assuring,\nsupporting--were gone.  And instead there was a horrible aching void.\n\nFor the whole afternoon and evening, and for the following forenoon, poor\nLilla's loneliness grew to be a positive agony.  For the first time she\nbegan to realise the sense of her loss, as though all the previous\nsuffering had been merely a preparation.  Everything she looked at,\neverything she remembered or thought of, became laden with poignant\nmemory.  Then on the top of all was a new sense of dread.  The reaction\nfrom the sense of security, which had surrounded her all her life, to a\nnever-quieted apprehension, was at times almost more than she could bear.\nIt so filled her with fear that she had a haunting feeling that she would\nas soon die as live.  However, whatever might be her own feelings, duty\nhad to be done, and as she had been brought up to consider duty first,\nshe braced herself to go through, to the very best of her ability, what\nwas before her.\n\nStill, the severe and prolonged struggle for self-control told upon\nLilla.  She looked, as she felt, ill and weak.  She was really in a\nnerveless and prostrate condition, with black circles round her eyes,\npale even to her lips, and with an instinctive trembling which she was\nquite unable to repress.  It was for her a sad mischance that Mimi was\naway, for her love would have seen through all obscuring causes, and have\nbrought to light the girl's unhappy condition of health.  Lilla was\nutterly unable to do anything to escape from the ordeal before her; but\nher cousin, with the experience of her former struggles with Mr. Caswall\nand of the condition in which these left her, would have taken steps--even\nperemptory ones, if necessary--to prevent a repetition.\n\nEdgar arrived punctually to the time appointed by herself.  When Lilla,\nthrough the great window, saw him approaching the house, her condition of\nnervous upset was pitiable.  She braced herself up, however, and managed\nto get through the interview in its preliminary stages without any\nperceptible change in her normal appearance and bearing.  It had been to\nher an added terror that the black shadow of Oolanga, whom she dreaded,\nwould follow hard on his master.  A load was lifted from her mind when he\ndid not make his usual stealthy approach.  She had also feared, though in\nlesser degree, lest Lady Arabella should be present to make trouble for\nher as before.\n\nWith a woman's natural forethought in a difficult position, she had\nprovided the furnishing of the tea-table as a subtle indication of the\nsocial difference between her and her guest.  She had chosen the\nimplements of service, as well as all the provender set forth, of the\nhumblest kind.  Instead of arranging the silver teapot and china cups,\nshe had set out an earthen teapot, such as was in common use in the farm\nkitchen.  The same idea was carried out in the cups and saucers of thick\nhomely delft, and in the cream-jug of similar kind.  The bread was of\nsimple whole-meal, home-baked.  The butter was good, since she had made\nit herself, while the preserves and honey came from her own garden.  Her\nface beamed with satisfaction when the guest eyed the appointments with a\nsupercilious glance.  It was a shock to the poor girl herself, for she\nenjoyed offering to a guest the little hospitalities possible to her; but\nthat had to be sacrificed with other pleasures.\n\nCaswall's face was more set and iron-clad than ever--his piercing eyes\nseemed from the very beginning to look her through and through.  Her\nheart quailed when she thought of what would follow--of what would be the\nend, when this was only the beginning.  As some protection, though it\ncould be only of a sentimental kind, she brought from her own room the\nphotographs of Mimi, of her grandfather, and of Adam Salton, whom by now\nshe had grown to look on with reliance, as a brother whom she could\ntrust.  She kept the pictures near her heart, to which her hand naturally\nstrayed when her feelings of constraint, distrust, or fear became so\npoignant as to interfere with the calm which she felt was necessary to\nhelp her through her ordeal.\n\nAt first Edgar Caswall was courteous and polite, even thoughtful; but\nafter a little while, when he found her resistance to his domination\ngrow, he abandoned all forms of self-control and appeared in the same\ndominance as he had previously shown.  She was prepared, however, for\nthis, both by her former experience and the natural fighting instinct\nwithin her.  By this means, as the minutes went on, both developed the\npower and preserved the equality in which they had begun.\n\nWithout warning, the psychic battle between the two individualities began\nafresh.  This time both the positive and negative causes were all in\nfavour of the man.  The woman was alone and in bad spirits, unsupported;\nnothing at all was in her favour except the memory of the two victorious\ncontests; whereas the man, though unaided, as before, by either Lady\nArabella or Oolanga, was in full strength, well rested, and in\nflourishing circumstances.  It was not, therefore, to be wondered at that\nhis native dominance of character had full opportunity of asserting\nitself.  He began his preliminary stare with a conscious sense of power,\nand, as it appeared to have immediate effect on the girl, he felt an ever-\ngrowing conviction of ultimate victory.\n\nAfter a little Lilla's resolution began to flag.  She felt that the\ncontest was unequal--that she was unable to put forth her best efforts.\nAs she was an unselfish person, she could not fight so well in her own\nbattle as in that of someone whom she loved and to whom she was devoted.\nEdgar saw the relaxing of the muscles of face and brow, and the almost\ncollapse of the heavy eyelids which seemed tumbling downward in sleep.\nLilla made gallant efforts to brace her dwindling powers, but for a time\nunsuccessfully.  At length there came an interruption, which seemed like\na powerful stimulant.  Through the wide window she saw Lady Arabella\nenter the plain gateway of the farm, and advance towards the hall door.\nShe was clad as usual in tight-fitting white, which accentuated her thin,\nsinuous figure.\n\nThe sight did for Lilla what no voluntary effort could have done.  Her\neyes flashed, and in an instant she felt as though a new life had\nsuddenly developed within her.  Lady Arabella's entry, in her usual\nunconcerned, haughty, supercilious way, heightened the effect, so that\nwhen the two stood close to each other battle was joined.  Mr. Caswall,\ntoo, took new courage from her coming, and all his masterfulness and\npower came back to him.  His looks, intensified, had more obvious effect\nthan had been noticeable that day.  Lilla seemed at last overcome by his\ndominance.  Her face became red and pale--violently red and ghastly\npale--by rapid turns.  Her strength seemed gone.  Her knees collapsed,\nand she was actually sinking on the floor, when to her surprise and joy\nMimi came into the room, running hurriedly and breathing heavily.\n\nLilla rushed to her, and the two clasped hands.  With that, a new sense\nof power, greater than Lilla had ever seen in her, seemed to quicken her\ncousin.  Her hand swept the air in front of Edgar Caswall, seeming to\ndrive him backward more and more by each movement, till at last he seemed\nto be actually hurled through the door which Mimi's entrance had left\nopen, and fell at full length on the gravel path without.\n\nThen came the final and complete collapse of Lilla, who, without a sound,\nsank down on the floor.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI--FACE TO FACE\n\n\nMimi was greatly distressed when she saw her cousin lying prone.  She had\na few times in her life seen Lilla on the verge of fainting, but never\nsenseless; and now she was frightened.  She threw herself on her knees\nbeside Lilla, and tried, by rubbing her hands and other measures commonly\nknown, to restore her.  But all her efforts were unavailing.  Lilla still\nlay white and senseless.  In fact, each moment she looked worse; her\nbreast, that had been heaving with the stress, became still, and the\npallor of her face grew like marble.\n\nAt these succeeding changes Mimi's fright grew, till it altogether\nmastered her.  She succeeded in controlling herself only to the extent\nthat she did not scream.\n\nLady Arabella had followed Caswall, when he had recovered sufficiently to\nget up and walk--though stumblingly--in the direction of Castra Regis.\nWhen Mimi was quite alone with Lilla and the need for effort had ceased,\nshe felt weak and trembled.  In her own mind, she attributed it to a\nsudden change in the weather--it was momentarily becoming apparent that a\nstorm was coming on.\n\nShe raised Lilla's head and laid it on her warm young breast, but all in\nvain.  The cold of the white features thrilled through her, and she\nutterly collapsed when it was borne in on her that Lilla had passed away.\n\nThe dusk gradually deepened and the shades of evening closed in, but Mimi\ndid not seem to notice or to care.  She sat on the floor with her arms\nround the body of the girl whom she loved.  Darker and blacker grew the\nsky as the coming storm and the closing night joined forces.  Still she\nsat on--alone--tearless--unable to think.  Mimi did not know how long she\nsat there.  Though it seemed to her that ages had passed, it could not\nhave been more than half-an-hour.  She suddenly came to herself, and was\nsurprised to find that her grandfather had not returned.  For a while she\nlay quiet, thinking of the immediate past.  Lilla's hand was still in\nhers, and to her surprise it was still warm.  Somehow this helped her\nconsciousness, and without any special act of will she stood up.  She lit\na lamp and looked at her cousin.  There was no doubt that Lilla was dead;\nbut when the lamp-light fell on her eyes, they seemed to look at Mimi\nwith intent--with meaning.  In this state of dark isolation a new\nresolution came to her, and grew and grew until it became a fixed\ndefinite purpose.  She would face Caswall and call him to account for his\nmurder of Lilla--that was what she called it to herself.  She would also\ntake steps--she knew not what or how--to avenge the part taken by Lady\nArabella.\n\nIn this frame of mind she lit all the lamps in the room, got water and\nlinen from her room, and set about the decent ordering of Lilla's body.\nThis took some time; but when it was finished, she put on her hat and\ncloak, put out the lights, and set out quietly for Castra Regis.\n\nAs Mimi drew near the Castle, she saw no lights except those in and\naround the tower room.  The lights showed her that Mr. Caswall was there,\nso she entered by the hall door, which as usual was open, and felt her\nway in the darkness up the staircase to the lobby of the room.  The door\nwas ajar, and the light from within showed brilliantly through the\nopening.  She saw Edgar Caswall walking restlessly to and fro in the\nroom, with his hands clasped behind his back.  She opened the door\nwithout knocking, and walked right into the room.  As she entered, he\nceased walking, and stared at her in surprise.  She made no remark, no\ncomment, but continued the fixed look which he had seen on her entrance.\n\nFor a time silence reigned, and the two stood looking fixedly at each\nother.  Mimi was the first to speak.\n\n\"You murderer!  Lilla is dead!\"\n\n\"Dead!  Good God!  When did she die?\"\n\n\"She died this afternoon, just after you left her.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yes--and so are you--or you ought to be.  You killed her!\"\n\n\"I killed her!  Be careful what you say!\"\n\n\"As God sees us, it is true; and you know it.  You came to Mercy Farm on\npurpose to break her--if you could.  And the accomplice of your guilt,\nLady Arabella March, came for the same purpose.\"\n\n\"Be careful, woman,\" he said hotly.  \"Do not use such names in that way,\nor you shall suffer for it.\"\n\n\"I am suffering for it--have suffered for it--shall suffer for it.  Not\nfor speaking the truth as I have done, but because you two, with devilish\nmalignity, did my darling to death.  It is you and your accomplice who\nhave to dread punishment, not I.\"\n\n\"Take care!\" he said again.\n\n\"Oh, I am not afraid of you or your accomplice,\" she answered spiritedly.\n\"I am content to stand by every word I have said, every act I have done.\nMoreover, I believe in God's justice.  I fear not the grinding of His\nmills; if necessary I shall set the wheels in motion myself.  But you\ndon't care for God, or believe in Him.  Your god is your great kite,\nwhich cows the birds of a whole district.  But be sure that His hand,\nwhen it rises, always falls at the appointed time.  It may be that your\nname is being called even at this very moment at the Great Assize.  Repent\nwhile there is still time.  Happy you, if you may be allowed to enter\nthose mighty halls in the company of the pure-souled angel whose voice\nhas only to whisper one word of justice, and you disappear for ever into\neverlasting torment.\"\n\nThe sudden death of Lilla caused consternation among Mimi's friends and\nwell-wishers.  Such a tragedy was totally unexpected, as Adam and Sir\nNathaniel had been expecting the White Worm's vengeance to fall upon\nthemselves.\n\nAdam, leaving his wife free to follow her own desires with regard to\nLilla and her grandfather, busied himself with filling the well-hole with\nthe fine sand prepared for the purpose, taking care to have lowered at\nstated intervals quantities of the store of dynamite, so as to be ready\nfor the final explosion.  He had under his immediate supervision a corps\nof workmen, and was assisted by Sir Nathaniel, who had come over for the\npurpose, and all were now staying at Lesser Hill.\n\nMr. Salton, too, showed much interest in the job, and was constantly\ncoming in and out, nothing escaping his observation.\n\nSince her marriage to Adam and their coming to stay at Doom Tower, Mimi\nhad been fettered by fear of the horrible monster at Diana's Grove.  But\nnow she dreaded it no longer.  She accepted the fact of its assuming at\nwill the form of Lady Arabella.  She had still to tax and upbraid her for\nher part in the unhappiness which had been wrought on Lilla, and for her\nshare in causing her death.\n\nOne evening, when Mimi entered her own room, she went to the window and\nthrew an eager look round the whole circle of sight.  A single glance\nsatisfied her that the White Worm in _propria persona_ was not visible.\nSo she sat down in the window-seat and enjoyed the pleasure of a full\nview, from which she had been so long cut off.  The maid who waited on\nher had told her that Mr. Salton had not yet returned home, so she felt\nfree to enjoy the luxury of peace and quiet.\n\nAs she looked out of the window, she saw something thin and white move\nalong the avenue.  She thought she recognised the figure of Lady\nArabella, and instinctively drew back behind the curtain.  When she had\nascertained, by peeping out several times, that the lady had not seen\nher, she watched more carefully, all her instinctive hatred flooding back\nat the sight of her.  Lady Arabella was moving swiftly and stealthily,\nlooking back and around her at intervals, as if she feared to be\nfollowed.  This gave Mimi an idea that she was up to no good, so she\ndetermined to seize the occasion for watching her in more detail.\n\nHastily putting on a dark cloak and hat, she ran downstairs and out into\nthe avenue.  Lady Arabella had moved, but the sheen of her white dress\nwas still to be seen among the young oaks around the gateway.  Keeping in\nshadow, Mimi followed, taking care not to come so close as to awake the\nother's suspicion, and watched her quarry pass along the road in the\ndirection of Castra Regis.\n\nShe followed on steadily through the gloom of the trees, depending on the\nglint of the white dress to keep her right.  The wood began to thicken,\nand presently, when the road widened and the trees grew farther back, she\nlost sight of any indication of her whereabouts.  Under the present\nconditions it was impossible for her to do any more, so, after waiting\nfor a while, still hidden in the shadow to see if she could catch another\nglimpse of the white frock, she determined to go on slowly towards Castra\nRegis, and trust to the chapter of accidents to pick up the trail again.\nShe went on slowly, taking advantage of every obstacle and shadow to keep\nherself concealed.\n\nAt last she entered on the grounds of the Castle, at a spot from which\nthe windows of the turret were dimly visible, without having seen again\nany sign of Lady Arabella.\n\nMeanwhile, during most of the time that Mimi Salton had been moving\nwarily along in the gloom, she was in reality being followed by Lady\nArabella, who had caught sight of her leaving the house and had never\nagain lost touch with her.  It was a case of the hunter being hunted.  For\na time Mimi's many turnings, with the natural obstacles that were\nperpetually intervening, caused Lady Arabella some trouble; but when she\nwas close to Castra Regis, there was no more possibility of concealment,\nand the strange double following went swiftly on.\n\nWhen she saw Mimi close to the hall door of Castra Regis and ascending\nthe steps, she followed.  When Mimi entered the dark hall and felt her\nway up the staircase, still, as she believed, following Lady Arabella,\nthe latter kept on her way.  When they reached the lobby of the turret-\nrooms, Mimi believed that the object of her search was ahead of her.\n\nEdgar Caswall sat in the gloom of the great room, occasionally stirred to\ncuriosity when the drifting clouds allowed a little light to fall from\nthe storm-swept sky.  But nothing really interested him now.  Since he\nhad heard of Lilla's death, the gloom of his remorse, emphasised by\nMimi's upbraiding, had made more hopeless his cruel, selfish, saturnine\nnature.  He heard no sound, for his normal faculties seemed benumbed.\n\nMimi, when she came to the door, which stood ajar, gave a light tap.  So\nlight was it that it did not reach Caswall's ears.  Then, taking her\ncourage in both hands, she boldly pushed the door and entered.  As she\ndid so, her heart sank, for now she was face to face with a difficulty\nwhich had not, in her state of mental perturbation, occurred to her.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII--ON THE TURRET ROOF\n\n\nThe storm which was coming was already making itself manifest, not only\nin the wide scope of nature, but in the hearts and natures of human\nbeings.  Electrical disturbance in the sky and the air is reproduced in\nanimals of all kinds, and particularly in the highest type of them\nall--the most receptive--the most electrical.  So it was with Edgar\nCaswall, despite his selfish nature and coldness of blood.  So it was\nwith Mimi Salton, despite her unselfish, unchanging devotion for those\nshe loved.  So it was even with Lady Arabella, who, under the instincts\nof a primeval serpent, carried the ever-varying wishes and customs of\nwomanhood, which is always old--and always new.\n\nEdgar, after he had turned his eyes on Mimi, resumed his apathetic\nposition and sullen silence.  Mimi quietly took a seat a little way\napart, whence she could look on the progress of the coming storm and\nstudy its appearance throughout the whole visible circle of the\nneighbourhood.  She was in brighter and better spirits than she had been\nfor many days past.  Lady Arabella tried to efface herself behind the now\nopen door.\n\nWithout, the clouds grew thicker and blacker as the storm-centre came\ncloser.  As yet the forces, from whose linking the lightning springs,\nwere held apart, and the silence of nature proclaimed the calm before the\nstorm.  Caswall felt the effect of the gathering electric force.  A sort\nof wild exultation grew upon him, such as he had sometimes felt just\nbefore the breaking of a tropical storm.  As he became conscious of this,\nhe raised his head and caught sight of Mimi.  He was in the grip of an\nemotion greater than himself; in the mood in which he was he felt the\nneed upon him of doing some desperate deed.  He was now absolutely\nreckless, and as Mimi was associated with him in the memory which drove\nhim on, he wished that she too should be engaged in this enterprise.  He\nhad no knowledge of the proximity of Lady Arabella, and thought that he\nwas far removed from all he knew and whose interests he shared--alone\nwith the wild elements, which were being lashed to fury, and with the\nwoman who had struggled with him and vanquished him, and on whom he would\nshower the full measure of his hate.\n\nThe fact was that Edgar Caswall was, if not mad, close to the\nborder-line.  Madness in its first stage--monomania--is a lack of\nproportion.  So long as this is general, it is not always noticeable, for\nthe uninspired onlooker is without the necessary means of comparison.  But\nin monomania the errant faculty protrudes itself in a way that may not be\ndenied.  It puts aside, obscures, or takes the place of something\nelse--just as the head of a pin placed before the centre of the iris will\nblock out the whole scope of vision.  The most usual form of monomania\nhas commonly the same beginning as that from which Edgar Caswall\nsuffered--an over-large idea of self-importance.  Alienists, who study\nthe matter exactly, probably know more of human vanity and its effects\nthan do ordinary men.  Caswall's mental disturbance was not hard to\nidentify.  Every asylum is full of such cases--men and women, who,\nnaturally selfish and egotistical, so appraise to themselves their own\nimportance that every other circumstance in life becomes subservient to\nit.  The disease supplies in itself the material for self-magnification.\nWhen the decadence attacks a nature naturally proud and selfish and vain,\nand lacking both the aptitude and habit of self-restraint, the\ndevelopment of the disease is more swift, and ranges to farther limits.\nIt is such persons who become imbued with the idea that they have the\nattributes of the Almighty--even that they themselves are the Almighty.\n\nMimi had a suspicion--or rather, perhaps, an intuition--of the true state\nof things when she heard him speak, and at the same time noticed the\nabnormal flush on his face, and his rolling eyes.  There was a certain\nwant of fixedness of purpose which she had certainly not noticed before--a\nquick, spasmodic utterance which belongs rather to the insane than to\nthose of intellectual equilibrium.  She was a little frightened, not only\nby his thoughts, but by his staccato way of expressing them.\n\nCaswall moved to the door leading to the turret stair by which the roof\nwas reached, and spoke in a peremptory way, whose tone alone made her\nfeel defiant.\n\n\"Come!  I want you.\"\n\nShe instinctively drew back--she was not accustomed to such words, more\nespecially to such a tone.  Her answer was indicative of a new contest.\n\n\"Why should I go?  What for?\"\n\nHe did not at once reply--another indication of his overwhelming egotism.\nShe repeated her questions; habit reasserted itself, and he spoke without\nthinking the words which were in his heart.\n\n\"I want you, if you will be so good, to come with me to the turret roof.\nI am much interested in certain experiments with the kite, which would\nbe, if not a pleasure, at least a novel experience to you.  You would see\nsomething not easily seen otherwise.\"\n\n\"I will come,\" she answered simply; Edgar moved in the direction of the\nstair, she following close behind him.\n\nShe did not like to be left alone at such a height, in such a place, in\nthe darkness, with a storm about to break.  Of himself she had no fear;\nall that had been seemed to have passed away with her two victories over\nhim in the struggle of wills.  Moreover, the more recent\napprehension--that of his madness--had also ceased.  In the conversation\nof the last few minutes he seemed so rational, so clear, so unaggressive,\nthat she no longer saw reason for doubt.  So satisfied was she that even\nwhen he put out a hand to guide her to the steep, narrow stairway, she\ntook it without thought in the most conventional way.\n\nLady Arabella, crouching in the lobby behind the door, heard every word\nthat had been said, and formed her own opinion of it.  It seemed evident\nto her that there had been some rapprochement between the two who had so\nlately been hostile to each other, and that made her furiously angry.\nMimi was interfering with her plans!  She had made certain of her capture\nof Edgar Caswall, and she could not tolerate even the lightest and most\ncontemptuous fancy on his part which might divert him from the main\nissue.  When she became aware that he wished Mimi to come with him to the\nroof and that she had acquiesced, her rage got beyond bounds.  She became\noblivious to any danger there might be in a visit to such an exposed\nplace at such a time, and to all lesser considerations, and made up her\nmind to forestall them.  She stealthily and noiselessly crept through the\nwicket, and, ascending the stair, stepped out on the roof.  It was\nbitterly cold, for the fierce gusts of the storm which swept round the\nturret drove in through every unimpeded way, whistling at the sharp\ncorners and singing round the trembling flagstaff.  The kite-string and\nthe wire which controlled the runners made a concourse of weird sounds\nwhich somehow, perhaps from the violence which surrounded them, acting on\ntheir length, resolved themselves into some kind of harmony--a fitting\naccompaniment to the tragedy which seemed about to begin.\n\nMimi's heart beat heavily.  Just before leaving the turret-chamber she\nhad a shock which she could not shake off.  The lights of the room had\nmomentarily revealed to her, as they passed out, Edgar's face,\nconcentrated as it was whenever he intended to use his mesmeric power.\nNow the black eyebrows made a thick line across his face, under which his\neyes shone and glittered ominously.  Mimi recognised the danger, and\nassumed the defiant attitude that had twice already served her so well.\nShe had a fear that the circumstances and the place were against her, and\nshe wanted to be forearmed.\n\nThe sky was now somewhat lighter than it had been.  Either there was\nlightning afar off, whose reflections were carried by the rolling clouds,\nor else the gathered force, though not yet breaking into lightning, had\nan incipient power of light.  It seemed to affect both the man and the\nwoman.  Edgar seemed altogether under its influence.  His spirits were\nboisterous, his mind exalted.  He was now at his worst; madder than he\nhad been earlier in the night.\n\nMimi, trying to keep as far from him as possible, moved across the stone\nfloor of the turret roof, and found a niche which concealed her.  It was\nnot far from Lady Arabella's place of hiding.\n\nEdgar, left thus alone on the centre of the turret roof, found himself\naltogether his own master in a way which tended to increase his madness.\nHe knew that Mimi was close at hand, though he had lost sight of her.  He\nspoke loudly, and the sound of his own voice, though it was carried from\nhim on the sweeping wind as fast as the words were spoken, seemed to\nexalt him still more.  Even the raging of the elements round him appeared\nto add to his exaltation.  To him it seemed that these manifestations\nwere obedient to his own will.  He had reached the sublime of his\nmadness; he was now in his own mind actually the Almighty, and whatever\nmight happen would be the direct carrying out of his own commands.  As he\ncould not see Mimi, nor fix whereabout she was, he shouted loudly:\n\n\"Come to me!  You shall see now what you are despising, what you are\nwarring against.  All that you see is mine--the darkness as well as the\nlight.  I tell you that I am greater than any other who is, or was, or\nshall be.  When the Master of Evil took Christ up on a high place and\nshowed Him all the kingdoms of the earth, he was doing what he thought no\nother could do.  He was wrong--he forgot _Me_.  I shall send you light,\nup to the very ramparts of heaven.  A light so great that it shall\ndissipate those black clouds that are rushing up and piling around us.\nLook!  Look!  At the very touch of my hand that light springs into being\nand mounts up--and up--and up!\"\n\nHe made his way whilst he was speaking to the corner of the turret whence\nflew the giant kite, and from which the runners ascended.  Mimi looked\non, appalled and afraid to speak lest she should precipitate some\ncalamity.  Within the niche Lady Arabella cowered in a paroxysm of fear.\n\nEdgar took up a small wooden box, through a hole in which the wire of the\nrunner ran.  This evidently set some machinery in motion, for a sound as\nof whirring came.  From one side of the box floated what looked like a\npiece of stiff ribbon, which snapped and crackled as the wind took it.\nFor a few seconds Mimi saw it as it rushed along the sagging line to the\nkite.  When close to it, there was a loud crack, and a sudden light\nappeared to issue from every chink in the box.  Then a quick flame\nflashed along the snapping ribbon, which glowed with an intense light--a\nlight so great that the whole of the countryside around stood out against\nthe background of black driving clouds.  For a few seconds the light\nremained, then suddenly disappeared in the blackness around.  It was\nsimply a magnesium light, which had been fired by the mechanism within\nthe box and carried up to the kite.  Edgar was in a state of tumultuous\nexcitement, shouting and yelling at the top of his voice and dancing\nabout like a lunatic.\n\nThis was more than Lady Arabella's curious dual nature could stand--the\nghoulish element in her rose triumphant, and she abandoned all idea of\nmarriage with Edgar Caswall, gloating fiendishly over the thought of\nrevenge.\n\nShe must lure him to the White Worm's hole--but how?  She glanced around\nand quickly made up her mind.  The man's whole thoughts were absorbed by\nhis wonderful kite, which he was showing off, in order to fascinate her\nimaginary rival, Mimi.\n\nOn the instant she glided through the darkness to the wheel whereon the\nstring of the kite was wound.  With deft fingers she unshipped this, took\nit with her, reeling out the wire as she went, thus keeping, in a way, in\ntouch with the kite.  Then she glided swiftly to the wicket, through\nwhich she passed, locking the gate behind her as she went.\n\nDown the turret stair she ran quickly, letting the wire run from the\nwheel which she carried carefully, and, passing out of the hall door,\nhurried down the avenue with all her speed.  She soon reached her own\ngate, ran down the avenue, and with her key opened the iron door leading\nto the well-hole.\n\nShe felt well satisfied with herself.  All her plans were maturing, or\nhad already matured.  The Master of Castra Regis was within her grasp.\nThe woman whose interference she had feared, Lilla Watford, was dead.\nTruly, all was well, and she felt that she might pause a while and rest.\nShe tore off her clothes, with feverish fingers, and in full enjoyment of\nher natural freedom, stretched her slim figure in animal delight.  Then\nshe lay down on the sofa--to await her victim!  Edgar Caswall's life\nblood would more than satisfy her for some time to come.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII--THE BREAKING OF THE STORM\n\n\nWhen Lady Arabella had crept away in her usual noiseless fashion, the two\nothers remained for a while in their places on the turret roof: Caswall\nbecause he had nothing to say, Mimi because she had much to say and\nwished to put her thoughts in order.  For quite a while--which seemed\ninterminable--silence reigned between them.  At last Mimi made a\nbeginning--she had made up her mind how to act.\n\n\"Mr. Caswall,\" she said loudly, so as to make sure of being heard through\nthe blustering of the wind and the perpetual cracking of the electricity.\n\nCaswall said something in reply, but his words were carried away on the\nstorm.  However, one of her objects was effected: she knew now exactly\nwhereabout on the roof he was.  So she moved close to the spot before she\nspoke again, raising her voice almost to a shout.\n\n\"The wicket is shut.  Please to open it.  I can't get out.\"\n\nAs she spoke, she was quietly fingering a revolver which Adam had given\nto her in case of emergency and which now lay in her breast.  She felt\nthat she was caged like a rat in a trap, but did not mean to be taken at\na disadvantage, whatever happened.  Caswall also felt trapped, and all\nthe brute in him rose to the emergency.  In a voice which was raucous and\nbrutal--much like that which is heard when a wife is being beaten by her\nhusband in a slum--he hissed out, his syllables cutting through the\nroaring of the storm:\n\n\"You came of your own accord--without permission, or even asking it.  Now\nyou can stay or go as you choose.  But you must manage it for yourself;\nI'll have nothing to do with it.\"\n\nHer answer was spoken with dangerous suavity\n\n\"I am going.  Blame yourself if you do not like the time and manner of\nit.  I daresay Adam--my husband--will have a word to say to you about\nit!\"\n\n\"Let him say, and be damned to him, and to you too!  I'll show you a\nlight.  You shan't be able to say that you could not see what you were\ndoing.\"\n\nAs he spoke, he was lighting another piece of the magnesium ribbon, which\nmade a blinding glare in which everything was plainly discernible, down\nto the smallest detail.  This exactly suited Mimi.  She took accurate\nnote of the wicket and its fastening before the glare had died away.  She\ntook her revolver out and fired into the lock, which was shivered on the\ninstant, the pieces flying round in all directions, but happily without\ncausing hurt to anyone.  Then she pushed the wicket open and ran down the\nnarrow stair, and so to the hall door.  Opening this also, she ran down\nthe avenue, never lessening her speed till she stood outside the door of\nLesser Hill.  The door was opened at once on her ringing.\n\n\"Is Mr. Adam Salton in?\" she asked.\n\n\"He has just come in, a few minutes ago.  He has gone up to the study,\"\nreplied a servant.\n\nShe ran upstairs at once and joined him.  He seemed relieved when he saw\nher, but scrutinised her face keenly.  He saw that she had been in some\nconcern, so led her over to the sofa in the window and sat down beside\nher.\n\n\"Now, dear, tell me all about it!\" he said.\n\nShe rushed breathlessly through all the details of her adventure on the\nturret roof.  Adam listened attentively, helping her all he could, and\nnot embarrassing her by any questioning.  His thoughtful silence was a\ngreat help to her, for it allowed her to collect and organise her\nthoughts.\n\n\"I must go and see Caswall to-morrow, to hear what he has to say on the\nsubject.\"\n\n\"But, dear, for my sake, don't have any quarrel with Mr. Caswall.  I have\nhad too much trial and pain lately to wish it increased by any anxiety\nregarding you.\"\n\n\"You shall not, dear--if I can help it--please God,\" he said solemnly,\nand he kissed her.\n\nThen, in order to keep her interested so that she might forget the fears\nand anxieties that had disturbed her, he began to talk over the details\nof her adventure, making shrewd comments which attracted and held her\nattention.  Presently, _inter alia_, he said:\n\n\"That's a dangerous game Caswall is up to.  It seems to me that that\nyoung man--though he doesn't appear to know it--is riding for a fall!\"\n\n\"How, dear?  I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Kite flying on a night like this from a place like the tower of Castra\nRegis is, to say the least of it, dangerous.  It is not merely courting\ndeath or other accident from lightning, but it is bringing the lightning\ninto where he lives.  Every cloud that is blowing up here--and they all\nmake for the highest point--is bound to develop into a flash of\nlightning.  That kite is up in the air and is bound to attract the\nlightning.  Its cord makes a road for it on which to travel to earth.\nWhen it does come, it will strike the top of the tower with a weight a\nhundred times greater than a whole park of artillery, and will knock\nCastra Regis into pieces.  Where it will go after that, no one can tell.\nIf there should be any metal by which it can travel, such will not only\npoint the road, but be the road itself.\"\n\n\"Would it be dangerous to be out in the open air when such a thing is\ntaking place?\" she asked.\n\n\"No, little woman.  It would be the safest possible place--so long as one\nwas not in the line of the electric current.\"\n\n\"Then, do let us go outside.  I don't want to run into any foolish\ndanger--or, far more, to ask you to do so.  But surely if the open is\nsafest, that is the place for us.\"\n\nWithout another word, she put on again the cloak she had thrown off, and\na small, tight-fitting cap.  Adam too put on his cap, and, after seeing\nthat his revolver was all right, gave her his hand, and they left the\nhouse together.\n\n\"I think the best thing we can do will be to go round all the places\nwhich are mixed up in this affair.\"\n\n\"All right, dear, I am ready.  But, if you don't mind, we might go first\nto Mercy.  I am anxious about grandfather, and we might see that--as yet,\nat all events--nothing has happened there.\"\n\nSo they went on the high-hung road along the top of the Brow.  The wind\nhere was of great force, and made a strange booming noise as it swept\nhigh overhead; though not the sound of cracking and tearing as it passed\nthrough the woods of high slender trees which grew on either side of the\nroad.  Mimi could hardly keep her feet.  She was not afraid; but the\nforce to which she was opposed gave her a good excuse to hold on to her\nhusband extra tight.\n\nAt Mercy there was no one up--at least, all the lights were out.  But to\nMimi, accustomed to the nightly routine of the house, there were manifest\nsigns that all was well, except in the little room on the first floor,\nwhere the blinds were down.  Mimi could not bear to look at that, to\nthink of it.  Adam understood her pain, for he had been keenly interested\nin poor Lilla.  He bent over and kissed her, and then took her hand and\nheld it hard.  Thus they passed on together, returning to the high road\ntowards Castra Regis.\n\nAt the gate of Castra Regis they were extra careful.  When drawing near,\nAdam stumbled upon the wire that Lady Arabella had left trailing on the\nground.\n\nAdam drew his breath at this, and spoke in a low, earnest whisper:\n\n\"I don't want to frighten you, Mimi dear, but wherever that wire is there\nis danger.\"\n\n\"Danger!  How?\"\n\n\"That is the track where the lightning will go; at any moment, even now\nwhilst we are speaking and searching, a fearful force may be loosed upon\nus.  Run on, dear; you know the way to where the avenue joins the\nhighroad.  If you see any sign of the wire, keep away from it, for God's\nsake.  I shall join you at the gateway.\"\n\n\"Are you going to follow that wire alone?\"\n\n\"Yes, dear.  One is sufficient for that work.  I shall not lose a moment\ntill I am with you.\"\n\n\"Adam, when I came with you into the open, my main wish was that we\nshould be together if anything serious happened.  You wouldn't deny me\nthat right, would you, dear?\"\n\n\"No, dear, not that or any right.  Thank God that my wife has such a\nwish.  Come; we will go together.  We are in the hands of God.  If He\nwishes, we shall be together at the end, whenever or wherever that may\nbe.\"\n\nThey picked up the trail of the wire on the steps and followed it down\nthe avenue, taking care not to touch it with their feet.  It was easy\nenough to follow, for the wire, if not bright, was self-coloured, and\nshowed clearly.  They followed it out of the gateway and into the avenue\nof Diana's Grove.\n\nHere a new gravity clouded Adam's face, though Mimi saw no cause for\nfresh concern.  This was easily enough explained.  Adam knew of the\nexplosive works in progress regarding the well-hole, but the matter had\nbeen kept from his wife.  As they stood near the house, Adam asked Mimi\nto return to the road, ostensibly to watch the course of the wire,\ntelling her that there might be a branch wire leading somewhere else.  She\nwas to search the undergrowth, and if she found it, was to warn him by\nthe Australian native \"Coo-ee!\"\n\nWhilst they were standing together, there came a blinding flash of\nlightning, which lit up for several seconds the whole area of earth and\nsky.  It was only the first note of the celestial prelude, for it was\nfollowed in quick succession by numerous flashes, whilst the crash and\nroll of thunder seemed continuous.\n\nAdam, appalled, drew his wife to him and held her close.  As far as he\ncould estimate by the interval between lightning and thunder-clap, the\nheart of the storm was still some distance off, so he felt no present\nconcern for their safety.  Still, it was apparent that the course of the\nstorm was moving swiftly in their direction.  The lightning flashes came\nfaster and faster and closer together; the thunder-roll was almost\ncontinuous, not stopping for a moment--a new crash beginning before the\nold one had ceased.  Adam kept looking up in the direction where the kite\nstrained and struggled at its detaining cord, but, of course, the dull\nevening light prevented any distinct scrutiny.\n\nAt length there came a flash so appallingly bright that in its glare\nNature seemed to be standing still.  So long did it last, that there was\ntime to distinguish its configuration.  It seemed like a mighty tree\ninverted, pendent from the sky.  The whole country around within the\nangle of vision was lit up till it seemed to glow.  Then a broad ribbon\nof fire seemed to drop on to the tower of Castra Regis just as the\nthunder crashed.  By the glare, Adam could see the tower shake and\ntremble, and finally fall to pieces like a house of cards.  The passing\nof the lightning left the sky again dark, but a blue flame fell downward\nfrom the tower, and, with inconceivable rapidity, running along the\nground in the direction of Diana's Grove, reached the dark silent house,\nwhich in the instant burst into flame at a hundred different points.\n\nAt the same moment there rose from the house a rending, crashing sound of\nwoodwork, broken or thrown about, mixed with a quick scream so appalling\nthat Adam, stout of heart as he undoubtedly was, felt his blood turn into\nice.  Instinctively, despite the danger and their consciousness of it,\nhusband and wife took hands and listened, trembling.  Something was going\non close to them, mysterious, terrible, deadly!  The shrieks continued,\nthough less sharp in sound, as though muffled.  In the midst of them was\na terrific explosion, seemingly from deep in the earth.\n\nThe flames from Castra Regis and from Diana's Grove made all around\nalmost as light as day, and now that the lightning had ceased to flash,\ntheir eyes, unblinded, were able to judge both perspective and detail.\nThe heat of the burning house caused the iron doors to warp and collapse.\nSeemingly of their own accord, they fell open, and exposed the interior.\nThe Saltons could now look through to the room beyond, where the well-\nhole yawned, a deep narrow circular chasm.  From this the agonised\nshrieks were rising, growing ever more terrible with each second that\npassed.\n\nBut it was not only the heart-rending sound that almost paralysed poor\nMimi with terror.  What she saw was sufficient to fill her with evil\ndreams for the remainder of her life.  The whole place looked as if a sea\nof blood had been beating against it.  Each of the explosions from below\nhad thrown out from the well-hole, as if it had been the mouth of a\ncannon, a mass of fine sand mixed with blood, and a horrible repulsive\nslime in which were great red masses of rent and torn flesh and fat.  As\nthe explosions kept on, more and more of this repulsive mass was shot up,\nthe great bulk of it falling back again.  Many of the awful fragments\nwere of something which had lately been alive.  They quivered and\ntrembled and writhed as though they were still in torment, a supposition\nto which the unending scream gave a horrible credence.  At moments some\nmountainous mass of flesh surged up through the narrow orifice, as though\nforced by a measureless power through an opening infinitely smaller than\nitself.  Some of these fragments were partially covered with white skin\nas of a human being, and others--the largest and most numerous--with\nscaled skin as of a gigantic lizard or serpent.  Once, in a sort of lull\nor pause, the seething contents of the hole rose, after the manner of a\nbubbling spring, and Adam saw part of the thin form of Lady Arabella,\nforced up to the top amid a mass of blood and slime, and what looked as\nif it had been the entrails of a monster torn into shreds.  Several times\nsome masses of enormous bulk were forced up through the well-hole with\ninconceivable violence, and, suddenly expanding as they came into larger\nspace, disclosed sections of the White Worm which Adam and Sir Nathaniel\nhad seen looking over the trees with its enormous eyes of emerald-green\nflickering like great lamps in a gale.\n\nAt last the explosive power, which was not yet exhausted, evidently\nreached the main store of dynamite which had been lowered into the worm\nhole.  The result was appalling.  The ground for far around quivered and\nopened in long deep chasms, whose edges shook and fell in, throwing up\nclouds of sand which fell back and hissed amongst the rising water.  The\nheavily built house shook to its foundations.  Great stones were thrown\nup as from a volcano, some of them, great masses of hard stone, squared\nand grooved with implements wrought by human hands, breaking up and\nsplitting in mid air as though riven by some infernal power.  Trees near\nthe house--and therefore presumably in some way above the hole, which\nsent up clouds of dust and steam and fine sand mingled, and which carried\nan appalling stench which sickened the spectators--were torn up by the\nroots and hurled into the air.  By now, flames were bursting violently\nfrom all over the ruins, so dangerously that Adam caught up his wife in\nhis arms, and ran with her from the proximity of the flames.\n\nThen almost as quickly as it had begun, the whole cataclysm ceased,\nthough a deep-down rumbling continued intermittently for some time.  Then\nsilence brooded over all--silence so complete that it seemed in itself a\nsentient thing--silence which seemed like incarnate darkness, and\nconveyed the same idea to all who came within its radius.  To the young\npeople who had suffered the long horror of that awful night, it brought\nrelief--relief from the presence or the fear of all that was\nhorrible--relief which seemed perfected when the red rays of sunrise shot\nup over the far eastern sea, bringing a promise of a new order of things\nwith the coming day.\n\n* * * * *\n\nHis bed saw little of Adam Salton for the remainder of that night.  He\nand Mimi walked hand in hand in the brightening dawn round by the Brow to\nCastra Regis and on to Lesser Hill.  They did so deliberately, in an\nattempt to think as little as possible of the terrible experiences of the\nnight.  The morning was bright and cheerful, as a morning sometimes is\nafter a devastating storm.  The clouds, of which there were plenty in\nevidence, brought no lingering idea of gloom.  All nature was bright and\njoyous, being in striking contrast to the scenes of wreck and\ndevastation, the effects of obliterating fire and lasting ruin.\n\nThe only evidence of the once stately pile of Castra Regis and its\ninhabitants was a shapeless huddle of shattered architecture, dimly seen\nas the keen breeze swept aside the cloud of acrid smoke which marked the\nsite of the once lordly castle.  As for Diana's Grove, they looked in\nvain for a sign which had a suggestion of permanence.  The oak trees of\nthe Grove were still to be seen--some of them--emerging from a haze of\nsmoke, the great trunks solid and erect as ever, but the larger branches\nbroken and twisted and rent, with bark stripped and chipped, and the\nsmaller branches broken and dishevelled looking from the constant stress\nand threshing of the storm.\n\nOf the house as such, there was, even at the short distance from which\nthey looked, no trace.  Adam resolutely turned his back on the\ndevastation and hurried on.  Mimi was not only upset and shocked in many\nways, but she was physically \"dog tired,\" and falling asleep on her feet.\nAdam took her to her room and made her undress and get into bed, taking\ncare that the room was well lighted both by sunshine and lamps.  The only\nobstruction was from a silk curtain, drawn across the window to keep out\nthe glare.  He sat beside her, holding her hand, well knowing that the\ncomfort of his presence was the best restorative for her.  He stayed with\nher till sleep had overmastered her wearied body.  Then he went softly\naway.  He found his uncle and Sir Nathaniel in the study, having an early\ncup of tea, amplified to the dimensions of a possible breakfast.  Adam\nexplained that he had not told his wife that he was going over the\nhorrible places again, lest it should frighten her, for the rest and\nsleep in ignorance would help her and make a gap of peacefulness between\nthe horrors.\n\nSir Nathaniel agreed.\n\n\"We know, my boy,\" he said, \"that the unfortunate Lady Arabella is dead,\nand that the foul carcase of the Worm has been torn to pieces--pray God\nthat its evil soul will never more escape from the nethermost hell.\"\n\nThey visited Diana's Grove first, not only because it was nearer, but\nalso because it was the place where most description was required, and\nAdam felt that he could tell his story best on the spot.  The absolute\ndestruction of the place and everything in it seen in the broad daylight\nwas almost inconceivable.  To Sir Nathaniel, it was as a story of horror\nfull and complete.  But to Adam it was, as it were, only on the fringes.\nHe knew what was still to be seen when his friends had got over the\nknowledge of externals.  As yet, they had only seen the outside of the\nhouse--or rather, where the outside of the house once had been.  The\ngreat horror lay within.  However, age--and the experience of age--counts.\n\nA strange, almost elemental, change in the aspect had taken place in the\ntime which had elapsed since the dawn.  It would almost seem as if Nature\nherself had tried to obliterate the evil signs of what had occurred.\nTrue, the utter ruin of the house was made even more manifest in the\nsearching daylight; but the more appalling destruction which lay beneath\nwas not visible.  The rent, torn, and dislocated stonework looked worse\nthan before; the upheaved foundations, the piled-up fragments of masonry,\nthe fissures in the torn earth--all were at the worst.  The Worm's hole\nwas still evident, a round fissure seemingly leading down into the very\nbowels of the earth.  But all the horrid mass of blood and slime, of\ntorn, evil-smelling flesh and the sickening remnants of violent death,\nwere gone.  Either some of the later explosions had thrown up from the\ndeep quantities of water which, though foul and corrupt itself, had still\nsome cleansing power left, or else the writhing mass which stirred from\nfar below had helped to drag down and obliterate the items of horror.  A\ngrey dust, partly of fine sand, partly of the waste of the falling ruin,\ncovered everything, and, though ghastly itself, helped to mask something\nstill worse.\n\nAfter a few minutes of watching, it became apparent to the three men that\nthe turmoil far below had not yet ceased.  At short irregular intervals\nthe hell-broth in the hole seemed as if boiling up.  It rose and fell\nagain and turned over, showing in fresh form much of the nauseous detail\nwhich had been visible earlier.  The worst parts were the great masses of\nthe flesh of the monstrous Worm, in all its red and sickening aspect.\nSuch fragments had been bad enough before, but now they were infinitely\nworse.  Corruption comes with startling rapidity to beings whose\ndestruction has been due wholly or in part to lightning--the whole mass\nseemed to have become all at once corrupt!  The whole surface of the\nfragments, once alive, was covered with insects, worms, and vermin of all\nkinds.  The sight was horrible enough, but, with the awful smell added,\nwas simply unbearable.  The Worm's hole appeared to breathe forth death\nin its most repulsive forms.  The friends, with one impulse, moved to the\ntop of the Brow, where a fresh breeze from the sea was blowing up.\n\nAt the top of the Brow, beneath them as they looked down, they saw a\nshining mass of white, which looked strangely out of place amongst such\nwreckage as they had been viewing.  It appeared so strange that Adam\nsuggested trying to find a way down, so that they might see it more\nclosely.\n\n\"We need not go down; I know what it is,\" Sir Nathaniel said.  \"The\nexplosions of last night have blown off the outside of the cliffs--that\nwhich we see is the vast bed of china clay through which the Worm\noriginally found its way down to its lair.  I can catch the glint of the\nwater of the deep quags far down below.  Well, her ladyship didn't\ndeserve such a funeral--or such a monument.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe horrors of the last few hours had played such havoc with Mimi's\nnerves, that a change of scene was imperative--if a permanent breakdown\nwas to be avoided.\n\n\"I think,\" said old Mr. Salton, \"it is quite time you young people\ndeparted for that honeymoon of yours!\"  There was a twinkle in his eye as\nhe spoke.\n\nMimi's soft shy glance at her stalwart husband, was sufficient answer.","title":"The Lair of the White Worm","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":55236}