The Lair of the White Worm, Bram Stoker [novels to read .TXT] 📗

all the provender set forth, of the humblest kind.  Instead of arranging the silver teapot and china cups, she had set out an earthen teapot, such as was in common use in the farm kitchen.  The same idea was carried out in the cups and saucers of thick homely delft, and in the cream-jug of similar kind.  The bread was of simple whole-meal, home-baked.  The butter was good, since she had made it herself, while the preserves and honey came from her own garden.  Her face beamed with satisfaction when the guest eyed the appointments with a supercilious glance.  It was a shock to the poor girl herself, for she enjoyed offering to a guest the little hospitalities possible to her; but that had to be sacrificed with other pleasures.

Caswall’s face was more set and iron-clad than ever—his piercing eyes seemed from the very beginning to look her through and through.  Her heart quailed when she thought of what would follow—of what would be the end, when this was only the beginning.  As some protection, though it could be only of a sentimental kind, she brought from her own room the photographs of Mimi, of her grandfather, and of Adam Salton, whom by now she had grown to look on with reliance, as a brother whom she could trust.  She kept the pictures near her heart, to which her hand naturally strayed when her feelings of constraint, distrust, or fear became so poignant as to interfere with the calm which she felt was necessary to help her through her ordeal.

At first Edgar Caswall was courteous and polite, even thoughtful; but after a little while, when he found her resistance to his domination grow, he abandoned all forms of self-control and appeared in the same dominance as he had previously shown.  She was prepared, however, for this, both by her former experience and the natural fighting instinct within her.  By this means, as the minutes went on, both developed the power and preserved the equality in which they had begun.

Without warning, the psychic battle between the two individualities began afresh.  This time both the positive and negative causes were all in favour of the man.  The woman was alone and in bad spirits, unsupported; nothing at all was in her favour except the memory of the two victorious contests; whereas the man, though unaided, as before, by either Lady Arabella or Oolanga, was in full strength, well rested, and in flourishing circumstances.  It was not, therefore, to be wondered at that his native dominance of character had full opportunity of asserting itself.  He began his preliminary stare with a conscious sense of power, and, as it appeared to have immediate effect on the girl, he felt an ever-growing conviction of ultimate victory.

After a little Lilla’s resolution began to flag.  She felt that the contest was unequal—that she was unable to put forth her best efforts.  As she was an unselfish person, she could not fight so well in her own battle as in that of someone whom she loved and to whom she was devoted.  Edgar saw the relaxing of the muscles of face and brow, and the almost collapse of the heavy eyelids which seemed tumbling downward in sleep.  Lilla made gallant efforts to brace her dwindling powers, but for a time unsuccessfully.  At length there came an interruption, which seemed like a powerful stimulant.  Through the wide window she saw Lady Arabella enter the plain gateway of the farm, and advance towards the hall door.  She was clad as usual in tight-fitting white, which accentuated her thin, sinuous figure.

The sight did for Lilla what no voluntary effort could have done.  Her eyes flashed, and in an instant she felt as though a new life had suddenly developed within her.  Lady Arabella’s entry, in her usual unconcerned, haughty, supercilious way, heightened the effect, so that when the two stood close to each other battle was joined.  Mr. Caswall, too, took new courage from her coming, and all his masterfulness and power came back to him.  His looks, intensified, had more obvious effect than had been noticeable that day.  Lilla seemed at last overcome by his dominance.  Her face became red and pale—violently red and ghastly pale—by rapid turns.  Her strength seemed gone.  Her knees collapsed, and she was actually sinking on the floor, when to her surprise and joy Mimi came into the room, running hurriedly and breathing heavily.

Lilla rushed to her, and the two clasped hands.  With that, a new sense of power, greater than Lilla had ever seen in her, seemed to quicken her cousin.  Her hand swept the air in front of Edgar Caswall, seeming to drive him backward more and more by each movement, till at last he seemed to be actually hurled through the door which Mimi’s entrance had left open, and fell at full length on the gravel path without.

Then came the final and complete collapse of Lilla, who, without a sound, sank down on the floor.

CHAPTER XXVI—FACE TO FACE

Mimi was greatly distressed when she saw her cousin lying prone.  She had a few times in her life seen Lilla on the verge of fainting, but never senseless; and now she was frightened.  She threw herself on her knees beside Lilla, and tried, by rubbing her hands and other measures commonly known, to restore her.  But all her efforts were unavailing.  Lilla still lay white and senseless.  In fact, each moment she looked worse; her breast, that had been heaving with the stress, became still, and the pallor of her face grew like marble.

At these succeeding changes Mimi’s fright grew, till it altogether mastered her.  She succeeded in controlling herself only to the extent that she did not scream.

Lady Arabella had followed Caswall, when he had recovered sufficiently to get up and walk—though stumblingly—in the direction of Castra Regis.  When Mimi was quite alone with Lilla and the need for effort had ceased, she felt weak and trembled.  In her own mind, she attributed it to a sudden change in the weather—it was momentarily becoming apparent that a storm was coming on.

She raised Lilla’s head and laid it on her warm young breast, but all in vain.  The cold of the white features thrilled through her, and she utterly collapsed when it was borne in on her that Lilla had passed away.

The dusk gradually deepened and the shades of evening closed in, but Mimi did not seem to notice or to care.  She sat on the floor with her arms round the body of the girl whom she loved.  Darker and blacker grew the sky as the coming storm and the closing night joined forces.  Still she sat on—alone—tearless—unable to think.  Mimi did not know how long she sat there.  Though it seemed to her that ages had passed, it could not have been more than half-an-hour.  She suddenly came to herself, and was surprised to find that her grandfather had not returned.  For a while she lay quiet, thinking of the immediate past.  Lilla’s hand was still in hers, and to her surprise it was still warm.  Somehow this helped her consciousness, and without any special act of will she stood up.  She lit a lamp and looked at her cousin.  There was no doubt that Lilla was dead; but when the lamp-light fell on her eyes, they seemed to look at Mimi with intent—with meaning.  In this state of dark isolation a new resolution came to her, and grew and grew until it became a fixed definite purpose.  She would face Caswall and call him to account for his murder of Lilla—that was what she called it to herself.  She would also take steps—she knew not what or how—to avenge the part taken by Lady Arabella.

In this frame of mind she lit all the lamps in the room, got water and linen from her room, and set about the decent ordering of Lilla’s body.  This took some time; but when it was finished, she put on her hat and cloak, put out the lights, and set out quietly for Castra Regis.

As Mimi drew near the Castle, she saw no lights except those in and around the tower room.  The lights showed her that Mr. Caswall was there, so she entered by the hall door, which as usual was open, and felt her way in the darkness up the staircase to the lobby of the room.  The door was ajar, and the light from within showed brilliantly through the opening.  She saw Edgar Caswall walking restlessly to and fro in the room, with his hands clasped behind his back.  She opened the door without knocking, and walked right into the room.  As she entered, he ceased walking, and stared at her in surprise.  She made no remark, no comment, but continued the fixed look which he had seen on her entrance.

For a time silence reigned, and the two stood looking fixedly at each other.  Mimi was the first to speak.

“You murderer!  Lilla is dead!”

“Dead!  Good God!  When did she die?”

“She died this afternoon, just after you left her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes—and so are you—or you ought to be.  You killed her!”

“I killed her!  Be careful what you say!”

“As God sees us, it is true; and you know it.  You came to Mercy Farm on purpose to break her—if you could.  And the accomplice of your guilt, Lady Arabella March, came for the same purpose.”

“Be careful, woman,” he said hotly.  “Do not use such names in that way, or you shall suffer for it.”

“I am suffering for it—have suffered for it—shall suffer for it.  Not for speaking the truth as I have done, but because you two, with devilish malignity, did my darling to death.  It is you and your accomplice who have to dread punishment, not I.”

“Take care!” he said again.

“Oh, I am not afraid of you or your accomplice,” she answered spiritedly.  “I am content to stand by every word I have said, every act I have done.  Moreover, I believe in God’s justice.  I fear not the grinding of His mills; if necessary I shall set the wheels in motion myself.  But you don’t care for God, or believe in Him.  Your god is your great kite, which cows the birds of a whole district.  But be sure that His hand, when it rises, always falls at the appointed time.  It may be that your name is being called even at this very moment at the Great Assize.  Repent while there is still time.  Happy you, if you may be allowed to enter those mighty halls in the company of the pure-souled angel whose voice has only to whisper one word of justice, and you disappear for ever into everlasting torment.”

The sudden death of Lilla caused consternation among Mimi’s friends and well-wishers.  Such a tragedy was totally unexpected, as Adam and Sir Nathaniel had been expecting the White Worm’s vengeance to fall upon themselves.

Adam, leaving his wife free to follow her own desires with regard to Lilla and her grandfather, busied himself with filling the well-hole with the fine sand prepared for the purpose, taking care to have lowered at stated intervals quantities of the store of dynamite, so as to be ready for the final explosion.  He had under his immediate supervision a corps of workmen, and was assisted by Sir Nathaniel, who had come over for the purpose, and all were now staying at Lesser Hill.

Mr. Salton, too, showed much interest in the job, and was constantly coming in and out, nothing escaping his observation.

Since her marriage to Adam and their coming to stay at Doom Tower, Mimi had been fettered by fear of the horrible monster at Diana’s Grove.  But now she dreaded it no longer.  She accepted the fact of its assuming at will the form of Lady Arabella.  She had still to tax and upbraid her for her part in the unhappiness which had been wrought on Lilla, and for her share in causing her death.

One evening, when Mimi entered her own room, she went to the window and threw an eager look round the whole circle of sight.  A single glance satisfied her that the White Worm in propriâ personâ was not visible.  So she sat down in the window-seat and enjoyed the pleasure of a full view, from which she had been so long cut off.  The maid who waited on her had told her that Mr. Salton had not yet returned home, so she felt free to enjoy the luxury of peace and quiet.

As she looked out of the window, she saw something thin and white move along the avenue.  She thought she recognised the figure of Lady Arabella, and instinctively drew back behind the curtain.  When she had ascertained, by peeping out several times, that the lady had not seen her, she watched more carefully, all her instinctive hatred flooding back at the sight of her.  Lady Arabella was moving swiftly and stealthily, looking back and around her