CHAPTER XVI--A VISIT OF SYMPATHY
Caswall was genuinely surprised when he saw Lady Arabella, though he neednot have been, after what had already occurred in the same way. The lookof surprise on his face was so much greater than Lady Arabella hadexpected--though she thought she was prepared to meet anything that mightoccur--that she stood still, in sheer amazement. Cold-blooded as she wasand ready for all social emergencies, she was nonplussed how to go on.She was plucky, however, and began to speak at once, although she had notthe slightest idea what she was going to say.
"I came to offer you my very warm sympathy with the grief you have solately experienced."
"My grief? I'm afraid I must be very dull; but I really do notunderstand."
Already she felt at a disadvantage, and hesitated.
"I mean about the old man who died so suddenly--your old . . . retainer."
Caswall's face relaxed something of its puzzled concentration.
"Oh, he was only a servant; and he had over-stayed his three-score andten years by something like twenty years. He must have been ninety!"
"Still, as an old servant . . . "
Caswall's words were not so cold as their inflection.
"I never interfere with servants. He was kept on here merely because hehad been so long on the premises. I suppose the steward thought it mightmake him unpopular if the old fellow had been dismissed."
How on earth was she to proceed on such a task as hers if this was theutmost geniality she could expect? So she at once tried anothertack--this time a personal one.
"I am sorry I disturbed you. I am really not unconventional--thoughcertainly no slave to convention. Still there are limits . . . it is badenough to intrude in this way, and I do not know what you can say orthink of the time selected, for the intrusion."
After all, Edgar Caswall was a gentleman by custom and habit, so he roseto the occasion.
"I can only say, Lady Arabella, that you are always welcome at any timeyou may deign to honour my house with your presence."
She smiled at him sweetly.
"Thank you _so_ much. You _do_ put one at ease. My breach of conventionmakes me glad rather than sorry. I feel that I can open my heart to youabout anything."
Forthwith she proceeded to tell him about Oolanga and his strangesuspicions of her honesty. Caswall laughed and made her explain all thedetails. His final comment was enlightening.
"Let me give you a word of advice: If you have the slightest fault tofind with that infernal nigger, shoot him at sight. A swelled-headednigger, with a bee in his bonnet, is one of the worst difficulties in theworld to deal with. So better make a clean job of it, and wipe him outat once!"
"But what about the law, Mr. Caswall?"
"Oh, the law doesn't concern itself much about dead niggers. A few moreor less do not matter. To my mind it's rather a relief!"
"I'm afraid of you," was her only comment, made with a sweet smile and ina soft voice.
"All right," he said, "let us leave it at that. Anyhow, we shall be ridof one of them!"
"I don't love niggers any more than you do," she replied, "and I supposeone mustn't be too particular where that sort of cleaning up isconcerned." Then she changed in voice and manner, and asked genially:"And now tell me, am I forgiven?"
"You are, dear lady--if there is anything to forgive."
As he spoke, seeing that she had moved to go, he came to the door withher, and in the most natural way accompanied her downstairs. He passedthrough the hall with her and down the avenue. As he went back to thehouse, she smiled to herself.
"Well, that is all right. I don't think the morning has been altogetherthrown away."
And she walked slowly back to Diana's Grove.
Adam Salton followed the line of the Brow, and refreshed his memory as tothe various localities. He got home to Lesser Hill just as Sir Nathanielwas beginning lunch. Mr. Salton had gone to Walsall to keep an earlyappointment; so he was all alone. When the meal was over--seeing inAdam's face that he had something to speak about--he followed into thestudy and shut the door.
When the two men had lighted their pipes, Sir Nathaniel began.
"I have remembered an interesting fact about Diana's Grove--there is, Ihave long understood, some strange mystery about that house. It may beof some interest, or it may be trivial, in such a tangled skein as we aretrying to unravel."
"Please tell me all you know or suspect. To begin, then, of what sortis the mystery--physical, mental, moral, historical, scientific, occult?Any kind of hint will help me."
"Quite right. I shall try to tell you what I think; but I have not putmy thoughts on the subject in sequence, so you must forgive me if dueorder is not observed in my narration. I suppose you have seen the houseat Diana's Grove?"
"The outside of it; but I have that in my mind's eye, and I can fit intomy memory whatever you may mention."
"The house is very old--probably the first house of some sort that stoodthere was in the time of the Romans. This was probably renewed--perhapsseveral times at later periods. The house stands, or, rather, used tostand here when Mercia was a kingdom--I do not suppose that the basementcan be later than the Norman Conquest. Some years ago, when I wasPresident of the Mercian Archaeological Society, I went all over it verycarefully. This was when it was purchased by Captain March. The househad then been done up, so as to be suitable for the bride. The basementis very strong,--almost as strong and as heavy as if it had been intendedas a fortress. There are a whole series of rooms deep underground. Oneof them in particular struck me. The room itself is of considerablesize, but the masonry is more than massive. In the middle of the room isa sunk well, built up to floor level and evidently going deepunderground. There is no windlass nor any trace of there ever havingbeen any--no rope--nothing. Now, we know that the Romans had wells ofimmense depth, from which the water was lifted by the 'old rag rope';that at Woodhull used to be nearly a thousand feet. Here, then, we havesimply an enormously deep well-hole. The door of the room was massive,and was fastened with a lock nearly a foot square. It was evidentlyintended for some kind of protection to someone or something; but no onein those days had ever heard of anyone having been allowed even to seethe room. All this is _a propos_ of a suggestion on my part that thewell-hole was a way by which the White Worm (whatever it was) went andcame. At that time I would have had a search made--even excavation ifnecessary--at my own expense, but all suggestions were met with a promptand explicit negative. So, of course, I took no further step in thematter. Then it died out of recollection--even of mine."
"Do you remember, sir," asked Adam, "what was the appearance of the roomwhere the well-hole was? Was there furniture--in fact, any sort of thingin the room?"
"The only thing I remember was a sort of green light--very clouded, verydim--which came up from the well. Not a fixed light, but intermittentand irregular--quite unlike anything I had ever seen."
"Do you remember how you got into the well-room? Was there a separatedoor from outside, or was there any interior room or passage which openedinto it?"
"I think there must have been some room with a way into it. I remembergoing up some steep steps; they must have been worn smooth by long use orsomething of the kind, for I could hardly keep my feet as I went up. OnceI stumbled and nearly fell into the well-hole."
"Was there anything strange about the place--any queer smell, forinstance?"
"Queer smell--yes! Like bilge or a rank swamp. It was distinctlynauseating; when I came out I felt as if I had just been going to besick. I shall try back on my visit and see if I can recall any more ofwhat I saw or felt."
"Then perhaps, sir, later in the day you will tell me anything you maychance to recollect."
"I shall be delighted, Adam. If your uncle has not returned by then,I'll join you in the study after dinner, and we can resume thisinteresting chat."