"With such a centre, already known and organised, we can easily see that
each fresh wave of invasion--the Angles, the Saxons, the Danes, and the
Normans--found it a desirable possession and so ensured its upholding. In
the earlier centuries it was merely a vantage ground. But when the
victorious Romans brought with them the heavy solid fortifications
impregnable to the weapons of the time, its commanding position alone
ensured its adequate building and equipment. Then it was that the
fortified camp of the Caesars developed into the castle of the king. As
we are as yet ignorant of the names of the first kings of Mercia, no
historian has been able to guess which of them made it his ultimate
defence; and I suppose we shall never know now. In process of time, as
the arts of war developed, it increased in size and strength, and
although recorded details are lacking, the history is written not merely
in the stone of its building, but is inferred in the changes of
structure. Then the sweeping changes which followed the Norman Conquest
wiped out all lesser records than its own. To-day we must accept it as
one of the earliest castles of the Conquest, probably not later than the
time of Henry I.  Roman and Norman were both wise in their retention of
places of approved strength or utility. So it was that these surrounding
heights, already established and to a certain extent proved, were
retained. Indeed, such characteristics as already pertained to them were
preserved, and to-day afford to us lessons regarding things which have
themselves long since passed away. "So much for the fortified heights; but the hollows too have their own
story. But how the time passes! We must hurry home, or your uncle will
wonder what has become of us." He started with long steps towards Lesser Hill, and Adam was soon
furtively running in order to keep up with him. CHAPTER IV--THE LADY ARABELLA MARCH


"Now, there is no hurry, but so soon as you are both ready we shall
start," Mr. Salton said when breakfast had begun. "I want to take you
first to see a remarkable relic of Mercia, and then we'll go to Liverpool
through what is called 'The Great Vale of Cheshire.' You may be
disappointed, but take care not to prepare your mind"--this to Adam--"for
anything stupendous or heroic. You would not think the place a vale at
all, unless you were told so beforehand, and had confidence in the
veracity of the teller. We should get to the Landing Stage in time to
meet the _West African_, and catch Mr. Caswall as he comes ashore. We
want to do him honour--and, besides, it will be more pleasant to have the
introductions over before we go to his _fete_ at the Castle." The carriage was ready, the same as had been used the previous day, but
there were different horses--magnificent animals, and keen for work. Breakfast was soon over, and they shortly took their places. The
postillions had their orders, and were quickly on their way at an
exhilarating pace. Presently, in obedience to Mr. Salton's signal, the carriage drew up
opposite a great heap of stones by the wayside. "Here, Adam," he said, "is something that you of all men should not pass
by unnoticed. That heap of stones brings us at once to the dawn of the
Anglian kingdom. It was begun more than a thousand years ago--in the
latter part of the seventh century--in memory of a murder. Wulfere, King
of Mercia, nephew of Penda, here murdered his two sons for embracing
Christianity. As was the custom of the time, each passer-by added a
stone to the memorial heap. Penda represented heathen reaction after St.
Augustine's mission. Sir Nathaniel can tell you as much as you want
about this, and put you, if you wish, on the track of such accurate
knowledge as there is." Whilst they were looking at the heap of stones, they noticed that another
carriage had drawn up beside them, and the passenger--there was only
one--was regarding them curiously. The carriage was an old heavy
travelling one, with arms blazoned on it gorgeously. The men took off
their hats, as the occupant, a lady, addressed them. "How do you do, Sir Nathaniel? How do you do, Mr. Salton? I hope you
have not met with any accident. Look at me!" As she spoke she pointed to where one of the heavy springs was broken
across, the broken metal showing bright. Adam spoke up at once:

"Oh, that can soon be put right." "Soon? There is no one near who can mend a break like that." "I can." "You!" She looked incredulously at the dapper young gentleman who spoke. "You--why, it's a workman's job." "All right, I am a workman--though that is not the only sort of work I
do. I am an Australian, and, as we have to move about fast, we are all
trained to farriery and such mechanics as come into travel--I am quite at
your service." "I hardly know how to thank you for your kindness, of which I gladly
avail myself. I don't know what else I can do, as I wish to meet Mr.
Caswall of Castra Regis, who arrives home from Africa to-day. It is a
notable home-coming; all the countryside want to do him honour." She
looked at the old men and quickly made up her mind as to the identity of
the stranger. "You must be Mr. Adam Salton of Lesser Hill. I am Lady
Arabella March of Diana's Grove." As she spoke she turned slightly to
Mr. Salton, who took the hint and made a formal introduction. So soon as this was done, Adam took some tools from his uncle's carriage,
and at once began work on the broken spring. He was an expert workman,
and the breach was soon made good. Adam was gathering the tools which he
had been using--which, after the manner of all workmen, had been
scattered about--when he noticed that several black snakes had crawled
out from the heap of stones and were gathering round him. This naturally
occupied his mind, and he was not thinking of anything else when he
noticed Lady Arabella, who had opened the door of the carriage, slip from
it with a quick gliding motion. She was already among the snakes when he
called out to warn her. But there seemed to be no need of warning. The
snakes had turned and were wriggling back to the mound as quickly as they
could. He laughed to himself behind his teeth as he whispered, "No need
to fear there. They seem much more afraid of her than she of them." All
the same he began to beat on the ground with a stick which was lying
close to him, with the instinct of one used to such vermin. In an
instant he was alone beside the mound with Lady Arabella, who appeared
quite unconcerned at the incident. Then he took a long look at her, and
her dress alone was sufficient to attract attention. She was clad in
some kind of soft white stuff, which clung close to her form, showing to
the full every movement of her sinuous figure. She wore a close-fitting
cap of some fine fur of dazzling white. Coiled round her white throat
was a large necklace of emeralds, whose profusion of colour dazzled when
the sun shone on them. Her voice was peculiar, very low and sweet, and
so soft that the dominant note was of sibilation.