The Lair of the White Worm

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THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM


To my friend Bertha Nicoll with affectionate esteem.




CHAPTER I--ADAM SALTON ARRIVES


Adam Salton sauntered into the Empire Club, Sydney, and found awaiting
him a letter from his grand-uncle. He had first heard from the old
gentleman less than a year before, when Richard Salton had claimed
kinship, stating that he had been unable to write earlier, as he had
found it very difficult to trace his grand-nephew's address. Adam was
delighted and replied cordially; he had often heard his father speak of
the older branch of the family with whom his people had long lost touch.
Some interesting correspondence had ensued. Adam eagerly opened the
letter which had only just arrived, and conveyed a cordial invitation to
stop with his grand-uncle at Lesser Hill, for as long a time as he could
spare.

"Indeed," Richard Salton went on, "I am in hopes that you will make your
permanent home here. You see, my dear boy, you and I are all that remain
of our race, and it is but fitting that you should succeed me when the
time comes. In this year of grace, 1860, I am close on eighty years of
age, and though we have been a long-lived race, the span of life cannot
be prolonged beyond reasonable bounds. I am prepared to like you, and to
make your home with me as happy as you could wish. So do come at once on
receipt of this, and find the welcome I am waiting to give you. I send,
in case such may make matters easy for you, a banker's draft for 200
pounds. Come soon, so that we may both of us enjoy many happy days
together. If you are able to give me the pleasure of seeing you, send me
as soon as you can a letter telling me when to expect you. Then when you
arrive at Plymouth or Southampton or whatever port you are bound for,
wait on board, and I will meet you at the earliest hour possible."

* * * * *

Old Mr. Salton was delighted when Adam's reply arrived and sent a groom
hot-foot to his crony, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, to inform him that his
grand-nephew was due at Southampton on the twelfth of June.

Mr. Salton gave instructions to have ready a carriage early on the
important day, to start for Stafford, where he would catch the 11.40 a.m.
train. He would stay that night with his grand-nephew, either on the
ship, which would be a new experience for him, or, if his guest should
prefer it, at a hotel. In either case they would start in the early
morning for home. He had given instructions to his bailiff to send the
postillion carriage on to Southampton, to be ready for their journey
home, and to arrange for relays of his own horses to be sent on at once.
He intended that his grand-nephew, who had been all his life in
Australia, should see something of rural England on the drive. He had
plenty of young horses of his own breeding and breaking, and could depend
on a journey memorable to the young man. The luggage would be sent on by
rail to Stafford, where one of his carts would meet it. Mr. Salton,
during the journey to Southampton, often wondered if his grand-nephew was
as much excited as he was at the idea of meeting so near a relation for
the first time; and it was with an effort that he controlled himself. The
endless railway lines and switches round the Southampton Docks fired his
anxiety afresh.

As the train drew up on the dockside, he was getting his hand traps
together, when the carriage door was wrenched open and a young man jumped
in.

"How are you, uncle? I recognised you from the photo you sent me! I
wanted to meet you as soon as I could, but everything is so strange to me
that I didn't quite know what to do. However, here I am. I am glad to
see you, sir. I have been dreaming of this happiness for thousands of
miles; now I find that the reality beats all the dreaming!" As he spoke
the old man and the young one were heartily wringing each other's hands.

The meeting so auspiciously begun proceeded well. Adam, seeing that the
old man was interested in the novelty of the ship, suggested that he
should stay the night on board, and that he would himself be ready to
start at any hour and go anywhere that the other suggested. This
affectionate willingness to fall in with his own plans quite won the old
man's heart. He warmly accepted the invitation, and at once they became
not only on terms of affectionate relationship, but almost like old
friends. The heart of the old man, which had been empty for so long,
found a new delight. The young man found, on landing in the old country,
a welcome and a surrounding in full harmony with all his dreams
throughout his wanderings and solitude, and the promise of a fresh and
adventurous life. It was not long before the old man accepted him to
full relationship by calling him by his Christian name. After a long
talk on affairs of interest, they retired to the cabin, which the elder
was to share. Richard Salton put his hands affectionately on the boy's
shoulders--though Adam was in his twenty-seventh year, he was a boy, and
always would be, to his grand-uncle.

"I am so glad to find you as you are, my dear boy--just such a young man
as I had always hoped for as a son, in the days when I still had such
hopes. However, that is all past. But thank God there is a new life to
begin for both of us. To you must be the larger part--but there is still
time for some of it to be shared in common. I have waited till we should
have seen each other to enter upon the subject; for I thought it better
not to tie up your young life to my old one till we should have
sufficient personal knowledge to justify such a venture. Now I can, so
far as I am concerned, enter into it freely, since from the moment my
eyes rested on you I saw my son--as he shall be, God willing--if he
chooses such a course himself."

"Indeed I do, sir--with all my heart!"

"Thank you, Adam, for that." The old, man's eyes filled and his voice
trembled. Then, after a long silence between them, he went on: "When I
heard you were coming I made my will. It was well that your interests
should be protected from that moment on. Here is the deed--keep it,
Adam. All I have shall belong to you; and if love and good wishes, or
the memory of them, can make life sweeter, yours shall be a happy one.
Now, my dear boy, let us turn in. We start early in the morning and have
a long drive before us. I hope you don't mind driving? I was going to
have the old travelling carriage in which my grandfather, your
great-grand-uncle, went to Court when William IV. was king. It is all
right--they built well in those days--and it has been kept in perfect
order. But I think I have done better: I have sent the carriage in which
I travel myself. The horses are of my own breeding, and relays of them
shall take us all the way. I hope you like horses? They have long been
one of my greatest interests in life."

"I love them, sir, and I am happy to say I have many of my own. My
father gave me a horse farm for myself when I was eighteen. I devoted
myself to it, and it has gone on. Before I came away, my steward gave me
a memorandum that we have in my own place more than a thousand, nearly
all good."

"I am glad, my boy. Another link between us."

"Just fancy what a delight it will be, sir, to see so much of England--and
with you!"

"Thank you again, my boy. I will tell you all about your future home and
its surroundings as we go. We shall travel in old-fashioned state, I
tell you. My grandfather always drove four-in-hand; and so shall we."

"Oh, thanks, sir, thanks. May I take the ribbons sometimes?"

"Whenever you choose, Adam. The team is your own. Every horse we use to-
day is to be your own."

"You are too generous, uncle!"

"Not at all. Only an old man's selfish pleasure. It is not every day
that an heir to the old home comes back. And--oh, by the way . . . No,
we had better turn in now--I shall tell you the rest in the morning."




CHAPTER II--THE CASWALLS OF CASTRA REGIS


Mr. Salton had all his life been an early riser, and necessarily an early
waker. But early as he woke on the next morning--and although there was
an excuse for not prolonging sleep in the constant whirr and rattle of
the "donkey" engine winches of the great ship--he met the eyes of Adam
fixed on him from his berth. His grand-nephew had given him the sofa,
occupying the lower berth himself. The old man, despite his great
strength and normal activity, was somewhat tired by his long journey of
the day before, and the prolonged and exciting interview which followed
it. So he was glad to lie still and rest his body, whilst his mind was
actively exercised in taking in all he could of his strange surroundings.
Adam, too, after the pastoral habit to which he had been bred, woke with
the dawn, and was ready to enter on the experiences of the new day
whenever it might suit his elder companion. It was little wonder, then,
that, so soon as each realised the other's readiness, they simultaneously
jumped up and began to dress. The steward had by previous instructions
early breakfast prepared, and it was not long before they went down the
gangway on shore in search of the carriage.

They found Mr. Salton's bailiff looking out for them on the dock, and he
brought them at once to where the carriage was waiting in the street.
Richard Salton pointed out with pride to his young companion the
suitability of the vehicle for every need of travel. To it were
harnessed four useful horses, with a postillion to each pair.

"See," said the old man proudly, "how it has all the luxuries of useful
travel--silence and isolation as well as speed. There is nothing to
obstruct the view of those travelling and no one to overhear what they
may say. I have used that trap for a quarter of a century, and I never
saw one more suitable for travel. You shall test it shortly. We are
going to drive through the heart of England; and as we go I'll tell you
what I was speaking of last night. Our route is to be by Salisbury,
Bath, Bristol, Cheltenham, Worcester, Stafford; and so home."

Adam remained silent a few minutes, during which he seemed all eyes, for
he perpetually ranged the whole circle of the horizon.

"Has our journey to-day, sir," he asked, "any special relation to what
you said last night that you wanted to tell me?"

"Not directly; but indirectly, everything."

"Won't you tell me now--I see we cannot be overheard--and if anything
strikes you as we go along, just run it in. I shall understand."

So old Salton spoke:

"To begin at the beginning, Adam. That lecture of yours on 'The Romans
in Britain,' a report of which you posted to me, set me thinking--in
addition to telling me your tastes. I wrote to you at once and asked you
to come home, for it struck me that if you were fond of historical
research--as seemed a fact--this was exactly the place for you, in
addition to its being the home of your own forbears. If you could learn
so much of the British Romans so far away in New South Wales, where there
cannot be even a tradition of them, what might you not make of the same
amount of study on the very spot. Where we are going is in the real
heart of the old kingdom of Mercia, where there are traces of all the
various nationalities which made up the conglomerate which became
Britain."

"I rather gathered that you had some more definite--more personal reason
for my hurrying. After all, history can keep--except in the making!"

"Quite right, my boy. I had a reason such as you very wisely guessed. I
was anxious for you to be here when a rather important phase of our local
history occurred."

"What is that, if I may ask, sir?"

"Certainly. The principal landowner of our part of the county is on his
way home, and there will be a great home-coming, which you may care to
see. The fact is, for more than a century the various owners in the
succession here, with the exception of a short time, have lived abroad."

"How is that, sir, if I may ask?"

"The great house and estate in our part of the world is Castra Regis, the
family seat of the Caswall family. The last owner who lived here was
Edgar Caswall, grandfather of the man who is coming here--and he was the
only one who stayed even a short time. This man's grandfather, also
named Edgar--they keep the tradition of the family Christian
name--quarrelled with his family and went to live abroad, not keeping up
any intercourse, good or bad, with his relatives, although this
particular Edgar, as I told you, did visit his family estate, yet his son
was born and lived and died abroad, while his grandson, the latest
inheritor, was also born and lived abroad till he was over thirty--his
present age. This was the second line of absentees. The great estate of
Castra Regis has had no knowledge of its owner for five
generations--covering more than a hundred and twenty years. It has been
well administered, however, and no tenant or other connected with it has
had anything of which to complain. All the same, there has been much
natural anxiety to see the new owner, and we are all excited about the
event of his coming. Even I am, though I own my own estate, which,
though adjacent, is quite apart from Castra Regis.--Here we are now in
new ground for you. That is the spire of Salisbury Cathedral, and when
we leave that we shall be getting close to the old Roman county, and you
will naturally want your eyes. So we shall shortly have to keep our
minds on old Mercia. However, you need not be disappointed. My old
friend, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, who, like myself, is a free-holder near
Castra Regis--his estate, Doom Tower, is over the border of Derbyshire,
on the Peak--is coming to stay with me for the festivities to welcome
Edgar Caswall. He is just the sort of man you will like. He is devoted
to history, and is President of the Mercian Archaeological Society. He
knows more of our own part of the country, with its history and its
people, than anyone else. I expect he will have arrived before us, and
we three can have a long chat after dinner. He is also our local
geologist and natural historian. So you and he will have many interests
in common. Amongst other things he has a special knowledge of the Peak
and its caverns, and knows all the old legends of prehistoric times."

They spent the night at Cheltenham, and on the following morning resumed
their journey to Stafford. Adam's eyes were in constant employment, and
it was not till Salton declared that they had now entered on the last
stage of their journey, that he referred to Sir Nathaniel's coming.

As the dusk was closing down, they drove on to Lesser Hill, Mr. Salton's
house. It was now too dark to see any details of their surroundings.
Adam could just see that it was on the top of a hill, not quite so high
as that which was covered by the Castle, on whose tower flew the flag,
and which was all ablaze with moving lights, manifestly used in the
preparations for the festivities on the morrow. So Adam deferred his
curiosity till daylight. His grand-uncle was met at the door by a fine
old man, who greeted him warmly.

"I came over early as you wished. I suppose this is your grand-nephew--I
am glad to meet you, Mr. Adam Salton. I am Nathaniel de Salis, and your
uncle is one of my oldest friends."

Adam, from the moment of their eyes meeting, felt as if they were already
friends. The meeting was a new note of welcome to those that had already
sounded in his ears.

The cordiality with which Sir Nathaniel and Adam met, made the imparting
of information easy. Sir Nathaniel was a clever man of the world, who
had travelled much, and within a certain area studied deeply. He was a
brilliant conversationalist, as was to be expected from a successful
diplomatist, even under unstimulating conditions. But he had been
touched and to a certain extent fired by the younger man's evident
admiration and willingness to learn from him. Accordingly the
conversation, which began on the most friendly basis, soon warmed to an
interest above proof, as the old man spoke of it next day to Richard
Salton. He knew already that his old friend wanted his grand-nephew to
learn all he could of the subject in hand, and so had during his journey
from the Peak put his thoughts in sequence for narration and explanation.
Accordingly, Adam had only to listen and he must learn much that he
wanted to know. When dinner was over and the servants had withdrawn,
leaving the three men at their wine, Sir Nathaniel began.

"I gather from your uncle--by the way, I suppose we had better speak of
you as uncle and nephew, instead of going into exact relationship? In
fact, your uncle is so old and dear a friend, that, with your permission,
I shall drop formality with you altogether and speak of you and to you as
Adam, as though you were his son."

"I should like," answered the young man, "nothing better!"

The answer warmed the hearts of both the old men, but, with the usual
avoidance of Englishmen of emotional subjects personal to themselves,
they instinctively returned to the previous question. Sir Nathaniel took
the lead.

"I understand, Adam, that your uncle has posted you regarding the
relationships of the Caswall family?"

"Partly, sir; but I understood that I was to hear minuter details from
you--if you would be so good."

"I shall be delighted to tell you anything so far as my knowledge goes.
Well, the first Caswall in our immediate record is an Edgar, head of the
family and owner of the estate, who came into his kingdom just about the
time that George III. did. He had one son of about twenty-four. There
was a violent quarrel between the two. No one of this generation has any
idea of the cause; but, considering the family characteristics, we may
take it for granted that though it was deep and violent, it was on the
surface trivial.

"The result of the quarrel was that the son left the house without a
reconciliation or without even telling his father where he was going. He
never came back again. A few years after, he died, without having in the
meantime exchanged a word or a letter with his father. He married abroad
and left one son, who seems to have been brought up in ignorance of all
belonging to him. The gulf between them appears to have been
unbridgable; for in time this son married and in turn had a son, but
neither joy nor sorrow brought the sundered together. Under such
conditions no _rapprochement_ was to be looked for, and an utter
indifference, founded at best on ignorance, took the place of family
affection--even on community of interests. It was only due to the
watchfulness of the lawyers that the birth of this new heir was ever made
known. He actually spent a few months in the ancestral home.

"After this the family interest merely rested on heirship of the estate.
As no other children have been born to any of the newer generations in
the intervening years, all hopes of heritage are now centred in the
grandson of this man.

"Now, it will be well for you to bear in mind the prevailing
characteristics of this race. These were well preserved and unchanging;
one and all they are the same: cold, selfish, dominant, reckless of
consequences in pursuit of their own will. It was not that they did not
keep faith, though that was a matter which gave them little concern, but
that they took care to think beforehand of what they should do in order
to gain their own ends. If they should make a mistake, someone else
should bear the burthen of it. This was so perpetually recurrent that it
seemed to be a part of a fixed policy. It was no wonder that, whatever
changes took place, they were always ensured in their own possessions.
They were absolutely cold and hard by nature. Not one of them--so far as
we have any knowledge--was ever known to be touched by the softer
sentiments, to swerve from his purpose, or hold his hand in obedience to
the dictates of his heart. The pictures and effigies of them all show
their adherence to the early Roman type. Their eyes were full; their
hair, of raven blackness, grew thick and close and curly. Their figures
were massive and typical of strength.

"The thick black hair, growing low down on the neck, told of vast
physical strength and endurance. But the most remarkable characteristic
is the eyes. Black, piercing, almost unendurable, they seem to contain
in themselves a remarkable will power which there is no gainsaying. It
is a power that is partly racial and partly individual: a power
impregnated with some mysterious quality, partly hypnotic, partly
mesmeric, which seems to take away from eyes that meet them all power of
resistance--nay, all power of wishing to resist. With eyes like those,
set in that all-commanding face, one would need to be strong indeed to
think of resisting the inflexible will that lay behind.

"You may think, Adam, that all this is imagination on my part, especially
as I have never seen any of them. So it is, but imagination based on
deep study. I have made use of all I know or can surmise logically
regarding this strange race. With such strange compelling qualities, is
it any wonder that there is abroad an idea that in the race there is some
demoniac possession, which tends to a more definite belief that certain
individuals have in the past sold themselves to the Devil?

"But I think we had better go to bed now. We have a lot to get through
to-morrow, and I want you to have your brain clear, and all your
susceptibilities fresh. Moreover, I want you to come with me for an
early walk, during which we may notice, whilst the matter is fresh in our
minds, the peculiar disposition of this place--not merely your
grand-uncle's estate, but the lie of the country around it. There are
many things on which we may seek--and perhaps find--enlightenment. The
more we know at the start, the more things which may come into our view
will develop themselves."




CHAPTER III--DIANA'S GROVE


Curiosity took Adam Salton out of bed in the early morning, but when he
had dressed and gone downstairs; he found that, early as he was, Sir
Nathaniel was ahead of him. The old gentleman was quite prepared for a
long walk, and they started at once.

Sir Nathaniel, without speaking, led the way to the east, down the hill.
When they had descended and risen again, they found themselves on the
eastern brink of a steep hill. It was of lesser height than that on
which the Castle was situated; but it was so placed that it commanded the
various hills that crowned the ridge. All along the ridge the rock
cropped out, bare and bleak, but broken in rough natural castellation.
The form of the ridge was a segment of a circle, with the higher points
inland to the west. In the centre rose the Castle, on the highest point
of all. Between the various rocky excrescences were groups of trees of
various sizes and heights, amongst some of which were what, in the early
morning light, looked like ruins. These--whatever they were--were of
massive grey stone, probably limestone rudely cut--if indeed they were
not shaped naturally. The fall of the ground was steep all along the
ridge, so steep that here and there both trees and rocks and buildings
seemed to overhang the plain far below, through which ran many streams.

Sir Nathaniel stopped and looked around, as though to lose nothing of the
effect. The sun had climbed the eastern sky and was making all details
clear. He pointed with a sweeping gesture, as though calling Adam's
attention to the extent of the view. Having done so, he covered the
ground more slowly, as though inviting attention to detail. Adam was a
willing and attentive pupil, and followed his motions exactly, missing--or
trying to miss--nothing.

"I have brought you here, Adam, because it seems to me that this is the
spot on which to begin our investigations. You have now in front of you
almost the whole of the ancient kingdom of Mercia. In fact, we see the
whole of it except that furthest part, which is covered by the Welsh
Marches and those parts which are hidden from where we stand by the high
ground of the immediate west. We can see--theoretically--the whole of
the eastern bound of the kingdom, which ran south from the Humber to the
Wash. I want you to bear in mind the trend of the ground, for some time,
sooner or later, we shall do well to have it in our mind's eye when we
are considering the ancient traditions and superstitions, and are trying
to find the _rationale_ of them. Each legend, each superstition which we
receive, will help in the understanding and possible elucidation of the
others. And as all such have a local basis, we can come closer to the
truth--or the probability--by knowing the local conditions as we go
along. It will help us to bring to our aid such geological truth as we
may have between us. For instance, the building materials used in
various ages can afford their own lessons to understanding eyes. The
very heights and shapes and materials of these hills--nay, even of the
wide plain that lies between us and the sea--have in themselves the
materials of enlightening books."