by Bram Stoker
‘I quite agree, sir. I am all in a whirl already; and I want to attend carefully to what you say; so that I may try to digest it.’
Both men seemed fresher and better for the ‘easy, ’ and when they met in the afternoon each of them had, out of his thought, something to contribute to the general stock of information. Adam, who was by nature of a more militant disposition than his elderly friend, was glad to see that the conference at once assumed a practical trend. Sir Nathaniel recognised this, and, like an old diplomatist, turned it to present use.
‘Tell me now, Adam, what is the outcome, in your own mind, of our previous conversations?’
He answered at once:
‘That the whole difficulty already assumes practical shape; but with added dangers that at first I did not dream of.’
‘What is the practical shape, and what are the added dangers? I am not disputing, but only trying to clear my own ideas by the consideration of yours –’
Sir Nathaniel waited, so he went on:
‘Will it bore you, sir, if I put in order of an argument your own ideas as seen by me?’
‘Not at all; I should like it if it will help to clear my own mind.’
‘Then I will begin with your argument – only in general, not in detail. And please bear in mind, sir, that I am trying to state not so much what you said as the ideas conveyed to my mind – possibly erroneously, – but in the honest belief to comprehend thoroughly.’
‘Go on, my dear boy, do not fear. I shall understand and, if necessary, make allowance.’
So Adam went on:
‘In the past, in early days of the world, there were monsters who were so vast that they could exist thousands of years. Some of them must have overlapped the Christian era. They may have progressed intellectually in process of time. If they had in any way so progressed, or got even the most rudimentary form of brain, they would be the most dangerous things that ever were in the world. Tradition says that one of these monsters lived in the Marsh of the East and came up to a cave in Diana’s Grove which was also called the Lair of the White Worm. Such creatures may have grown down (small) as well as up (long). They may have grown into, or something like, human beings. Lady Arabella March is of snake nature. She has committed crimes to our knowledge. She retains something of the vast strength of her primal being – can see in the dark – has eyes of a snake. She used the nigger, and then dragged him through the snake’s hole down to the swamp; she is intent on evil, and hates some we love. Result…’
‘Yes, the result you arrive at?’
‘First, Mimi Watford should be taken away at once – I should suggest West Australia. And then –’
‘Yes?’
‘The monster must be destroyed.’
‘Bravo! That is a true and fearless conclusion. At whatever cost, it must be carried out.’
‘At once?’
‘Soon, at all events. That creature’s very existence is a danger. Her presence in this neighbourhood makes the danger immediate.’
As he spoke, Sir Nathaniel’s mouth hardened and his eyebrows came down till they met. There was no doubting his concurrence in the resolution, or his readiness to help in carrying it out. But he was an elderly man with much experience and knowledge of law and diplomacy. It seemed to him to be a stern duty to prevent anything irrevocable taking place till it had been thought out and all was ready. There were all sorts of legal cruxes to be thought out, not only regarding the taking of life, even of a monstrosity in human form, but also of property. Lady Arabella, be she woman or snake or devil, owned the ground she moved in, according to British law, and the law is jealous and swift to avenge wrongs done within its ken. Within three hundred years the law has accepted facts and evidence that would not be received in later years by school children. All such difficulties should be – must be – avoided for Mr Salton’s sake, for Adam’s own sake, and, most of all, for Mimi Watford’s sake. Before he spoke again, Sir Nathaniel had made up his mind that he must try to postpone decisive action until the circumstances depended on – which, after all, were only problematical – should have been tested satisfactorily, one way or another. When he did speak, Adam at first thought that his friend was wavering in his intention, or ‘funking’ the responsibility. He could have no such thought regarding Adam. That young man’s strong, mobile face was now as set as flint. His eyes were full of fire, non-blazing fire, but slumbrous, which is much more indicative of danger. His brows were in a straight line across his face, and his eyes in parallel course. As to purpose, he was fixed; the only question with him was – when! However, his respect for Sir Nathaniel was so great that he would not act or even come to a conclusion on a vital point without his sanction.
He came close and almost whispered in his ear:
‘Will you speak with me of this again – say, when my uncle has gone to bed, and we shall be undisturbed?’
Sir Nathaniel nodded. They had both determined to wait.
CHAPTER XXVI
A LIVING BARBETTE1
When Mr Salton had retired for the night, Adam and Sir Nathaniel with one accord moved to the study. Things went with great regularity at Lesser Hill, so they knew that there would be no interruption to their talk.
When their cigars were lighted, Sir Nathaniel said:
‘I hope, Adam, that you do not think me either slack or changeable of purpose. I really am not so, and I mean to go through this business to the bitter end – whatever it may be. Be satisfied that my first care is, and shall be, the protection of Mimi Watford. To that I am pledged; my dear boy, we who are interested are all in some form of the same danger. That monster out of the pit hates and means to destroy us all – you and me certainly, and probably your uncle. We are just on the verge of stormy times for us all. I wanted especially to talk with you to-night, for I cannot help thinking that the time is fast coming – if it has not come already – when we must take your uncle into confidence. It was one thing when fancied evils threatened, but now he as well as the rest of us is marked for death; and it is only right that he should know all.’
‘I am with you, sir. Things have changed since we agreed to keep him out of the trouble. Now we dare not; consideration for his feelings might cost him his life. It is a duty we have – and no light or pleasant one, either. I have not a shadow of doubt that he will want to be one with us in this. But remember, we are his guests, in his house; and his name, his honour have to be thought of as well as his safety.
‘I am still with you – to the death. Only, if there be any special danger to him, let me bear, or at any rate share it.’
‘All shall be as you wish, Adam. We need say no more of that. We are at one. And now as to practicability. What are we to do? We cannot manifestly take and murder Lady Arabella off-hand. Therefore we shall have to put things in order for the killing, and in such a way that we may not be taxed with a base crime. That is why I suggested waiting till we have some definite and complete proof.’
Adam stood up, and his voice rang as he said heartily:
‘You are quite right, sir, as usual. We must be at least as exact as if we were in a law court. I see that.’
Sir Nathaniel acquiesced in such a hearty way as to set his young companion’s mind at rest.
Adam sat down again and resumed the conversation, using an even, reflective tone which made the deliberation altogether useful:
‘It seems to me, sir, that we are in an exceedingly tight place. Our first difficulty is to know where to begin. Our opponent has pretty well all the trumps. I never thought this fighting an antediluvian monster was such a complicated job. This one is a woman, with all a woman’s wisdom and wit, combined with the heartlessness of a cocotte2 and the want of principle of a suffragette. She has the reserved strength and impregnability of a diplodocus. We may be sure that in the fight that is before us there will be no semblance of fair-play. Also that our unscrupulous opponent will not betray herself!’
Sir Nathaniel commented on this:
‘Th
at is so. But being of feminine species, she probably will over-reach herself. That is much more likely – more in woman’s way. Now, Adam, it strikes me that, as we have to protect ourselves and others against feminine nature, our strong game will be to play our masculine against her feminine. Men can wait better than women.’
He laughed a mirthless laugh that was all from the brain and had no heart at all, and went on:
‘You must remember that this female has had thousands of years’ experience in waiting. As she stands, she will beat us at that game.’
For answer Adam began preparing his revolver, which was at half-cock:
‘There is always a quick way of settling differences of that kind!’ was all he said; but Sir Nathaniel understood and again uttered a warning:
‘How are differences to be settled with a creature of that kind? We might as well fight with a barbette; she is invulnerable so far as physical harm at our hands is concerned.’
‘Even barbettes get occasionally blown up!’ said Adam.
‘Ah! barbettes aren’t alive all over and, so far as we know, self-recuperative. No! we must think out some plan to have ready if all else should fail. We had better sleep on it. She is a thing of the night; and the night may give us some ideas.’
So they both turned in.
Adam knocked at Sir Nathaniel’s door in the gray of the morning, and, on being bidden, came into the room. He had several letters unclosed in his hand. Sir Nathaniel sat up in bed.
‘Well!’
‘I should like to read you a few letters, but, of course, shall not send them unless you approve. In fact’ – this with a smile and a blush – ‘there are several things which I want to do; but I hold my hand and my tongue till I have your approval.’
‘Go on!’ said the other kindly. ‘Tell me all, and count at any rate on my sympathy and on my approval and help if I can see my way.’
Accordingly Adam proceeded:
‘When I told you the conclusions I had arrived at, I put in the foreground that Mimi Watford should for the sake of her own safety be removed – to West Australia, I suggested, – and that the monster which had wrought all the harm should be destroyed.’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘To carry this into practice, sir, one preliminary is required – unless harm of another kind is to be faced.’
Sir Nathaniel looked as if he had on his reflecting cap. Then he proceeded, taking up the other’s argument:
‘Before she goes to West Australia, or indeed to anywhere else, Mimi should have some protector which all the world would recognise. The only form of this safety recognised by convention is marriage!’
‘Yes, sir. I see you realise!’
Sir Nathaniel smiled in a fatherly way.
‘To marry, a husband is required. And that husband should be you.’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘And that marriage should be immediate and secret – or, at least, not spoken of outside ourselves… And now I must ask you a somewhat delicate question! Would the young lady be agreeable to that proceeding?’
‘I do not know, sir!’
‘You do not know? Then how are we to proceed?’
‘I suppose we – or one of us – must ask her. That one must be myself – and I am ready.’
‘Is this a sudden idea, Adam, a sudden resolution?’
‘A sudden resolution, sir, but not a sudden idea. The resolution is sudden because the need is sudden and imperative. If I were to speak in hyperbole, I could say that the idea is as old as Fate, and that the resolution was waiting before the beginning of the world!’
‘I am glad to hear it. I hope it will turn out that the coming of the White Worm has been a blessing in disguise. But now, if things have to be hurried on like this, what is to be the sequence of events?’
‘First, that Mimi should be asked to marry me. If she agrees, all is well and good. The sequence is obvious.’
‘And is to be kept a secret amongst ourselves?’
Adam answered at once:
‘I want no secret, sir, except for Mimi’s good. For myself, I should like to go and shout it out on the house-tops! But I see that we must be discreet. Untimely knowledge to our enemy might work incalculable harm.’
‘And how would you suggest, Adam, that we could combine the momentous question with secrecy?’
Here Adam grew red and moved uneasily. Then with a sudden rush he spoke:
‘Someone must ask her – as soon as possible!’
‘And that someone?’
‘I have been thinking the matter over, sir, since we have been here. It requires expedition to achieve safety, and we shall all have to do as duty requires.’
‘Certainly. And I trust that none of us shall shirk such a duty. But this is a concrete thing. We may consider and propose in the abstract, but the action is concrete – who, again, is to be the “someone”? Who is to ask her?’
‘I thought that you, sir, would be so good!’
‘God bless my soul! This is a new kind of duty to take on one – at my time of life. Adam, I hope you know that you can count on me to help in any way I can!’
‘I have counted on you, sir, when I ventured to make such a suggestion. I can only ask, sir, ’ he added, ‘that you will be more than ever kind to me – to us, and look on the painful duty as a voluntary act of grace prompted by kindness and affection.’
Sir Nathaniel said in a meek but not a doubting voice:
‘Painful duty!’
‘Yes, ’ said Adam boldly. ‘Painful to you, though to me it would be all joyful.’
‘Yes, I understand!’ said the other kindly.
Then he went on: ‘It is a strange job for an early morning! Well, we all live and learn. I suppose the sooner I go the better. Remember, I am in your hands and shall do just what you wish, and shall try to do it just as you wish. Now you had better write a line for me to take with me. For, you see, this is to be a somewhat unusual transaction, and it may be embarrassing to the lady, even to myself. So we ought to have some sort of warrant, something to show on after-thought, that we have been all along mindful of her feelings. It will not do to take acquiescence for granted – although we act for her good. You had better write the letter to have ready, and I had better not know what is in it – except the main purpose of the introducing the subject. I shall explain fully as we go along anything that she may wish.’
‘Sir Nathaniel, you are a true friend; and I am right sure that both Mimi and I shall be grateful to you for all our lives – however long or however short they may be!’
So the two talked it over and agreed as to points to be borne in mind by the ambassador. It was striking six when Sir Nathaniel left the house, Adam seeing him quietly off.
As the young man followed him with wistful eyes – almost jealous of the privilege which his kind deed was about to bring him, he felt that his own heart was in his friend’s breast.
CHAPTER XXVII
GREEN LIGHT
The memory of that morning was like a dream to all those concerned in it. Sir Nathaniel had a confused recollection of detail and sequence, though the main facts stood out in his memory boldly and clearly. Adam Salton’s recollection was of an illimitable time filled with anxiety, hope, and chagrin, all unified and dominated by a sense of the slow passage of time and accompanied by vague nebulous fears. Mimi could not for a long time think at all or recollect anything, except that Adam loved her and was saving her from a terrible danger. In the bitter time itself, whilst she was learning those truths she found her own heart. When she had time to think, later on, she wondered how or when she had any ignorance of the facts that Adam loved her and that she loved him with all her heart. Everything, every recollection however small, every feeling, seemed to fit into those elemental facts as though they had all been moulded together. The main and crowning recollection was her saying goodbye to Sir Nathaniel and entrusting to him loving messages straight from her heart to Adam Salton, and of his bearing when with an impul
se which she could not check – and did not want to – she put her lips to his and kissed him. Later, when she was alone and had time to think, it was a passing grief to her that she would have to be silent, for a time, to Lilla on the happy events of that strange early morning mission.
