Chapter XVI: A Visit of Sympathy

by Bram Stoker

　　Caswall was genuinely surprised when he saw Lady Arabella, though heneed not have been, after what had already occurred in the same way.The look of surprise on his face was so much greater than LadyArabella had expected--though she thought she was prepared to meetanything that might occur--that she stood still, in sheer amazement.Cold-blooded as she was and ready for all social emergencies, shewas nonplussed how to go on. She was plucky, however, and began tospeak at once, although she had not the slightest idea what she wasgoing to say."I came to offer you my very warm sympathy with the grief you haveso lately 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-scoreand ten years by something like twenty years. He must have beenninety!""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 merelybecause he had been so long on the premises. I suppose the stewardthought it might make him unpopular if the old fellow had beendismissed."How on earth was she to proceed on such a task as hers if this wasthe utmost 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 isbad enough to intrude in this way, and I do not know what you cansay or think of the time selected, for the intrusion."After all, Edgar Caswall was a gentleman by custom and habit, so herose to the occasion."I can only say, Lady Arabella, that you are always welcome at anytime you 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 ofconvention makes me glad rather than sorry. I feel that I can openmy heart to you about anything."Forthwith she proceeded to tell him about Oolanga and his strangesuspicions of her honesty. Caswall laughed and made her explain allthe details. His final comment was enlightening."Let me give you a word of advice: If you have the slightest faultto find with that infernal nigger, shoot him at sight. A swelled-headed nigger, with a bee in his bonnet, is one of the worstdifficulties in the world to deal with. So better make a clean jobof it, and wipe him out at once!""But what about the law, Mr. Caswall?""Oh, the law doesn't concern itself much about dead niggers. A fewmore or 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 smileand in a soft voice."All right," he said, "let us leave it at that. Anyhow, we shall berid of one of them!""I don't love niggers any more than you do," she replied, "and Isuppose one mustn't be too particular where that sort of cleaning upis concerned." Then she changed in voice and manner, and askedgenially: "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 doorwith her, and in the most natural way accompanied her downstairs.He passed through the hall with her and down the avenue. As he wentback to the house, she smiled to herself."Well, that is all right. I don't think the morning has beenaltogether thrown away."And she walked slowly back to Diana's Grove.Adam Salton followed the line of the Brow, and refreshed his memoryas to the various localities. He got home to Lesser Hill just asSir Nathaniel was beginning lunch. Mr. Salton had gone to Walsallto keep an early appointment; so he was all alone. When the mealwas over--seeing in Adam's face that he had something to speakabout--he followed into the study 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--thereis, I have long understood, some strange mystery about that house.It may be of some interest, or it may be trivial, in such a tangledskein as we are trying to unravel.""Please tell me all you know' or suspect. To begin, then, of whatsort is 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 notput my thoughts on the subject in sequence, so you must forgive meif due order is not observed in my narration. I suppose you haveseen the house at Diana's Grove?""The outside of it; but I have that in my mind's eye, and I can fitinto my memory whatever you may mention.""The house is very old--probably the first house of some sort thatstood there was in the time of the Romans. This was probablyrenewed--perhaps several times at later periods. The house stands,or, rather, used to stand here when Mercia was a kingdom--I do notsuppose that the basement can be later than the Norman Conquest.Some years ago, when I was President of the Mercian ArchaeologicalSociety, I went all over it very carefully. This was when it waspurchased by Captain March. The house had then been done up, so asto be suitable for the bride. The basement is very strong,--almostas strong and as heavy as if it had been intended as a fortress.There are a whole series of rooms deep underground. One of them inparticular struck me. The room itself is of considerable size, butthe masonry is more than massive. In the middle of the room is asunk well, built up to floor level and evidently going deepunderground. There is no windlass nor any trace of there everhaving been any--no rope--nothing. Now, we know that the Romans hadwells of immense depth, from which the water was lifted by the 'oldrag rope'; that at Woodhull used to be nearly a thousand feet.Here, then, we have simply an enormously deep well-hole. The doorof the room was massive, and was fastened with a lock nearly a footsquare. It was evidently intended for some kind of protection tosomeone or something; but no one in those days had ever heard ofanyone having been allowed even to see the room. All this is epropos of a suggestion on my part that the well-hole was a way bywhich the White Worm (whatever it was) went and came. At that timeI would have had a search made--even excavation if necessary--at myown expense, but all suggestions were met with a prompt and explicitnegative. So, of course, I took no further step in the matter.Then it died out of recollection--even of mine.""Do you remember, sir," asked Adam, "what was the appearance of theroom where the well-hole was? Was there furniture--in fact, anysort of thing in the room?""The only thing I remember was a sort of green light--very clouded,very dim--which came up from the well. Not a fixed light, butintermittent and irregular--quite unlike anything I had ever seen.""Do you remember how you got into the well-room? Was there aseparate door from outside, or was there any interior room orpassage which opened into it?""I think there must have been some room with a way into it. Iremember going up some steep steps; they must have been worn smoothby long use or something of the kind, for I could hardly keep myfeet as I went up. Once I 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 moreof what I saw or felt.""Then perhaps, sir, later in the day you will tell me anything youmay chance to recollect.""I shall be delighted, Adam. If your uncle has not returned bythen, I'll join you in the study after dinner, and we can resumethis interesting chat."