Lady Arabella, whose face had blanched to a deadly white, now resumed her
ministrations at the tea-board as though nothing unusual had happened. The slop-basin was full of half-burned brown paper, over which tea had
been poured. Sir Nathaniel had been narrowly observing his hostess, and took the first
opportunity afforded him of whispering to Adam:

"The real attack is to come--she is too quiet. When I give my hand to
your wife to lead her out, come with us--and caution her to hurry. Don't
lose a second, even if you have to make a scene. Hs-s-s-h!" Then they resumed their places close to the table, and the servants, in
obedience to Lady Arabella's order, brought in fresh tea. Thence on, that tea-party seemed to Adam, whose faculties were at their
utmost intensity, like a terrible dream. As for poor Mimi, she was so
overwrought both with present and future fear, and with horror at the
danger she had escaped, that her faculties were numb. However, she was
braced up for a trial, and she felt assured that whatever might come she
would be able to go through with it. Sir Nathaniel seemed just as
usual--suave, dignified, and thoughtful--perfect master of himself. To her husband, it was evident that Mimi was ill at ease. The way she
kept turning her head to look around her, the quick coming and going of
the colour of her face, her hurried breathing, alternating with periods
of suspicious calm, were evidences of mental perturbation. To her, the
attitude of Lady Arabella seemed compounded of social sweetness and
personal consideration. It would be hard to imagine more thoughtful and
tender kindness towards an honoured guest. When tea was over and the servants had come to clear away the cups, Lady
Arabella, putting her arm round Mimi's waist, strolled with her into an
adjoining room, where she collected a number of photographs which were
scattered about, and, sitting down beside her guest, began to show them
to her. While she was doing this, the servants closed all the doors of
the suite of rooms, as well as that which opened from the room
outside--that of the well-hole into the avenue. Suddenly, without any
seeming cause, the light in the room began to grow dim. Sir Nathaniel,
who was sitting close to Mimi, rose to his feet, and, crying, "Quick!" caught hold of her hand and began to drag her from the room. Adam caught
her other hand, and between them they drew her through the outer door
which the servants were beginning to close. It was difficult at first to
find the way, the darkness was so great; but to their relief when Adam
whistled shrilly, the carriage and horses, which had been waiting in the
angle of the avenue, dashed up. Her husband and Sir Nathaniel
lifted--almost threw--Mimi into the carriage. The postillion plied whip
and spur, and the vehicle, rocking with its speed, swept through the gate
and tore up the road. Behind them was a hubbub--servants rushing about,
orders being shouted out, doors shutting, and somewhere, seemingly far
back in the house, a strange noise. Every nerve of the horses was
strained as they dashed recklessly along the road. The two men held Mimi
between them, the arms of both of them round her as though protectingly. As they went, there was a sudden rise in the ground; but the horses,
breathing heavily, dashed up it at racing speed, not slackening their
pace when the hill fell away again, leaving them to hurry along the
downgrade. It would be foolish to say that neither Adam nor Mimi had any fear in
returning to Doom Tower. Mimi felt it more keenly than her husband,
whose nerves were harder, and who was more inured to danger. Still she
bore up bravely, and as usual the effort was helpful to her. When once
she was in the study in the top of the turret, she almost forgot the
terrors which lay outside in the dark. She did not attempt to peep out
of the window; but Adam did--and saw nothing. The moonlight showed all
the surrounding country, but nowhere was to be observed that tremulous
line of green light. The peaceful night had a good effect on them all; danger, being unseen,
seemed far off. At times it was hard to realise that it had ever been. With courage restored, Adam rose early and walked along the Brow, seeing
no change in the signs of life in Castra Regis. What he did see, to his
wonder and concern, on his returning homeward, was Lady Arabella, in her
tight-fitting white dress and ermine collar, but without her emeralds;
she was emerging from the gate of Diana's Grove and walking towards the
Castle. Pondering on this, and trying to find some meaning in it,
occupied his thoughts till he joined Mimi and Sir Nathaniel at breakfast. They began the meal in silence. What had been had been, and was known to
them all. Moreover, it was not a pleasant topic. A fillip was given to the conversation when Adam told of his seeing Lady
Arabella, on her way to Castra Regis. They each had something to say of
her, and of what her wishes or intentions were towards Edgar Caswall. Mimi spoke bitterly of her in every aspect. She had not forgotten--and
never would--never could--the occasion when, to harm Lilla, the woman had
consorted even with the nigger. As a social matter, she was disgusted
with her for following up the rich landowner--"throwing herself at his
head so shamelessly," was how she expressed it. She was interested to
know that the great kite still flew from Caswall's tower. But beyond
such matters she did not try to go. The only comment she made was of
strongly expressed surprise at her ladyship's "cheek" in ignoring her own
criminal acts, and her impudence in taking it for granted that others had
overlooked them also. CHAPTER XXIV--A STARTLING PROPOSITION


The more Mimi thought over the late events, the more puzzled she was. What did it all mean--what could it mean, except that there was an error
of fact somewhere. Could it be possible that some of them--all of them
had been mistaken, that there had been no White Worm at all? On either
side of her was a belief impossible of reception. Not to believe in what
seemed apparent was to destroy the very foundations of belief . . . yet
in old days there had been monsters on the earth, and certainly some
people had believed in just such mysterious changes of identity. It was
all very strange. Just fancy how any stranger--say a doctor--would
regard her, if she were to tell him that she had been to a tea-party with
an antediluvian monster, and that they had been waited on by up-to-date
men-servants. Adam had returned, exhilarated by his walk, and more settled in his mind
than he had been for some time. Like Mimi, he had gone through the phase
of doubt and inability to believe in the reality of things, though it had
not affected him to the same extent. The idea, however, that his wife
was suffering ill-effects from her terrible ordeal, braced him up. He
remained with her for a time, then he sought Sir Nathaniel in order to
talk over the matter with him.