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قراءة كتاب The Lair of the White Worm

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‏اللغة: English
The Lair of the White Worm

The Lair of the White Worm

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 5

latter part of the seventh century—in memory of a murder.  Wulfere, King of Mercia, nephew of Penda, here murdered his two sons for embracing Christianity.  As was the custom of the time, each passer-by added a stone to the memorial heap.  Penda represented heathen reaction after St. Augustine’s mission.  Sir Nathaniel can tell you as much as you want about this, and put you, if you wish, on the track of such accurate knowledge as there is.”

Whilst they were looking at the heap of stones, they noticed that another carriage had drawn up beside them, and the passenger—there was only one—was regarding them curiously.  The carriage was an old heavy travelling one, with arms blazoned on it gorgeously.  The men took off their hats, as the occupant, a lady, addressed them.

“How do you do, Sir Nathaniel?  How do you do, Mr. Salton?  I hope you have not met with any accident.  Look at me!”

As she spoke she pointed to where one of the heavy springs was broken across, the broken metal showing bright.  Adam spoke up at once:

“Oh, that can soon be put right.”

“Soon?  There is no one near who can mend a break like that.”

“I can.”

“You!”  She looked incredulously at the dapper young gentleman who spoke.  “You—why, it’s a workman’s job.”

“All right, I am a workman—though that is not the only sort of work I do.  I am an Australian, and, as we have to move about fast, we are all trained to farriery and such mechanics as come into travel—I am quite at your service.”

“I hardly know how to thank you for your kindness, of which I gladly avail myself.  I don’t know what else I can do, as I wish to meet Mr. Caswall of Castra Regis, who arrives home from Africa to-day.  It is a notable home-coming; all the countryside want to do him honour.”  She looked at the old men and quickly made up her mind as to the identity of the stranger.  “You must be Mr. Adam Salton of Lesser Hill.  I am Lady Arabella March of Diana’s Grove.”  As she spoke she turned slightly to Mr. Salton, who took the hint and made a formal introduction.

So soon as this was done, Adam took some tools from his uncle’s carriage, and at once began work on the broken spring.  He was an expert workman, and the breach was soon made good.  Adam was gathering the tools which he had been using—which, after the manner of all workmen, had been scattered about—when he noticed that several black snakes had crawled out from the heap of stones and were gathering round him.  This naturally occupied his mind, and he was not thinking of anything else when he noticed Lady Arabella, who had opened the door of the carriage, slip from it with a quick gliding motion.  She was already among the snakes when he called out to warn her.  But there seemed to be no need of warning.  The snakes had turned and were wriggling back to the mound as quickly as they could.  He laughed to himself behind his teeth as he whispered, “No need to fear there.  They seem much more afraid of her than she of them.”  All the same he began to beat on the ground with a stick which was lying close to him, with the instinct of one used to such vermin.  In an instant he was alone beside the mound with Lady Arabella, who appeared quite unconcerned at the incident.  Then he took a long look at her, and her dress alone was sufficient to attract attention.  She was clad in some kind of soft white stuff, which clung close to her form, showing to the full every movement of her sinuous figure.  She wore a close-fitting cap of some fine fur of dazzling white.  Coiled round her white throat was a large necklace of emeralds, whose profusion of colour dazzled when the sun shone on them.  Her voice was peculiar, very low and sweet, and so soft that the dominant note was of sibilation.  Her hands, too, were peculiar—long, flexible, white, with a strange movement as of waving gently to and fro.

She appeared quite at ease, and, after thanking Adam, said that if any of his uncle’s party were going to Liverpool she would be most happy to join forces.

“Whilst you are staying here, Mr. Salton, you must look on the grounds of Diana’s Grove as your own, so that you may come and go just as you do in Lesser Hill.  There are some fine views, and not a few natural curiosities which are sure to interest you, if you are a student of natural history—specially of an earlier kind, when the world was younger.”

The heartiness with which she spoke, and the warmth of her words—not of her manner, which was cold and distant—made him suspicious.  In the meantime both his uncle and Sir Nathaniel had thanked her for the invitation—of which, however, they said they were unable to avail themselves.  Adam had a suspicion that, though she answered regretfully, she was in reality relieved.  When he had got into the carriage with the two old men, and they had driven off, he was not surprised when Sir Nathaniel spoke.

“I could not but feel that she was glad to be rid of us.  She can play her game better alone!”

“What is her game?” asked Adam unthinkingly.

“All the county knows it, my boy.  Caswall is a very rich man.  Her husband was rich when she married him—or seemed to be.  When he committed suicide, it was found that he had nothing left, and the estate was mortgaged up to the hilt.  Her only hope is in a rich marriage.  I suppose I need not draw any conclusion; you can do that as well as I can.”

Adam remained silent nearly all the time they were travelling through the alleged Vale of Cheshire.  He thought much during that journey and came to several conclusions, though his lips were unmoved.  One of these conclusions was that he would be very careful about paying any attention to Lady Arabella.  He was himself a rich man, how rich not even his uncle had the least idea, and would have been surprised had he known.

The remainder of the journey was uneventful, and upon arrival at Liverpool they went aboard the West African, which had just come to the landing-stage.  There his uncle introduced himself to Mr. Caswall, and followed this up by introducing Sir Nathaniel and then Adam.  The new-comer received them graciously, and said what a pleasure it was to be coming home after so long an absence of his family from their old seat.  Adam was pleased at the warmth of the reception; but he could not avoid a feeling of repugnance at the man’s face.  He was trying hard to overcome this when a diversion was caused by the arrival of Lady Arabella.  The diversion was welcome to all; the two Saltons and Sir Nathaniel were shocked at Caswall’s face—so hard, so ruthless, so selfish, so dominant.  “God help any,” was the common thought, “who is under the domination of such a man!”

Presently his African servant approached him, and at once their thoughts changed to a larger toleration.  Caswall looked indeed a savage—but a cultured savage.  In him were traces of the softening civilisation of ages—of some of the higher instincts and education of man, no matter how rudimentary these might be.  But the face of Oolanga, as his master called him, was unreformed, unsoftened savage, and inherent in it were all the hideous possibilities of a lost, devil-ridden child of the forest and the swamp—the lowest of all created things that could be regarded as in some form ostensibly human.  Lady Arabella and Oolanga arrived almost simultaneously, and Adam was surprised to notice what effect their appearance had on each other.  The woman seemed as if she would not—could not—condescend to exhibit any concern or interest in such a creature.  On the other hand, the negro’s bearing was such as in itself to justify her pride.  He treated her not merely as a slave treats his master, but as a worshipper would treat a deity.  He knelt before her with his hands out-stretched and his forehead in the dust.  So long as she remained he did not move; it was only when she went over to Caswall that he relaxed his