Sir Nathaniel stopped and looked around, as though to lose nothing of theeffect. The sun had climbed the eastern sky and was making all detailsclear. He pointed with a sweeping gesture, as though calling Adam'sattention to the extent of the view. Having done so, he covered theground more slowly, as though inviting attention to detail. Adam was awilling and attentive pupil, and followed his motions exactly, missing--ortrying to miss--nothing.
"I have brought you here, Adam, because it seems to me that this is thespot on which to begin our investigations. You have now in front of youalmost the whole of the ancient kingdom of Mercia. In fact, we see thewhole of it except that furthest part, which is covered by the WelshMarches and those parts which are hidden from where we stand by the highground of the immediate west. We can see--theoretically--the whole ofthe eastern bound of the kingdom, which ran south from the Humber to theWash. I want you to bear in mind the trend of the ground, for some time,sooner or later, we shall do well to have it in our mind's eye when weare considering the ancient traditions and superstitions, and are tryingto find the _rationale_ of them. Each legend, each superstition which wereceive, will help in the understanding and possible elucidation of theothers. And as all such have a local basis, we can come closer to thetruth--or the probability--by knowing the local conditions as we goalong. It will help us to bring to our aid such geological truth as wemay have between us. For instance, the building materials used invarious ages can afford their own lessons to understanding eyes. Thevery heights and shapes and materials of these hills--nay, even of thewide plain that lies between us and the sea--have in themselves thematerials of enlightening books."
"For instance, sir?" said Adam, venturing a question.
"Well, look at those hills which surround the main one where the site forthe Castle was wisely chosen--on the highest ground. Take the others.There is something ostensible in each of them, and in all probabilitysomething unseen and unproved, but to be imagined, also."
"For instance?" continued Adam.
"Let us take them _seriatim_. That to the east, where the trees are,lower down--that was once the location of a Roman temple, possiblyfounded on a pre-existing Druidical one. Its name implies the former,and the grove of ancient oaks suggests the latter."
"Please explain."
"The old name translated means 'Diana's Grove.' Then the next one higherthan it, but just beyond it, is called '_Mercy_'--in all probability acorruption or familiarisation of the word _Mercia_, with a Roman punincluded. We learn from early manuscripts that the place was called_Vilula Misericordiae_. It was originally a nunnery, founded by QueenBertha, but done away with by King Penda, the reactionary to Paganismafter St. Augustine. Then comes your uncle's place--Lesser Hill. Thoughit is so close to the Castle, it is not connected with it. It is afreehold, and, so far as we know, of equal age. It has always belongedto your family."
"Then there only remains the Castle!"
"That is all; but its history contains the histories of all the others--infact, the whole history of early England." Sir Nathaniel, seeing theexpectant look on Adam's face, went on:
"The history of the Castle has no beginning so far as we know. Thefurthest records or surmises or inferences simply accept it as existing.Some of these--guesses, let us call them--seem to show that there wassome sort of structure there when the Romans came, therefore it must havebeen a place of importance in Druid times--if indeed that was thebeginning. Naturally the Romans accepted it, as they did everything ofthe kind that was, or might be, useful. The change is shown or inferredin the name Castra. It was the highest protected ground, and sonaturally became the most important of their camps. A study of the mapwill show you that it must have been a most important centre. It bothprotected the advances already made to the north, and helped to dominatethe sea coast. It sheltered the western marches, beyond which lay savageWales--and danger. It provided a means of getting to the Severn, roundwhich lay the great Roman roads then coming into existence, and madepossible the great waterway to the heart of England--through the Severnand its tributaries. It brought the east and the west together by theswiftest and easiest ways known to those times. And, finally, itprovided means of descent on London and all the expanse of countrywatered by the Thames.
"With such a centre, already known and organised, we can easily see thateach fresh wave of invasion--the Angles, the Saxons, the Danes, and theNormans--found it a desirable possession and so ensured its upholding. Inthe earlier centuries it was merely a vantage ground. But when thevictorious Romans brought with them the heavy solid fortificationsimpregnable to the weapons of the time, its commanding position aloneensured its adequate building and equipment. Then it was that thefortified camp of the Caesars developed into the castle of the king. Aswe are as yet ignorant of the names of the first kings of Mercia, nohistorian has been able to guess which of them made it his ultimatedefence; and I suppose we shall never know now. In process of time, asthe arts of war developed, it increased in size and strength, andalthough recorded details are lacking, the history is written not merelyin the stone of its building, but is inferred in the changes ofstructure. Then the sweeping changes which followed the Norman Conquestwiped out all lesser records than its own. To-day we must accept it asone of the earliest castles of the Conquest, probably not later than thetime of Henry I. Roman and Norman were both wise in their retention ofplaces of approved strength or utility. So it was that these surroundingheights, already established and to a certain extent proved, wereretained. Indeed, such characteristics as already pertained to them werepreserved, and to-day afford to us lessons regarding things which havethemselves long since passed away.
"So much for the fortified heights; but the hollows too have their ownstory. But how the time passes! We must hurry home, or your uncle willwonder what has become of us."
He started with long steps towards Lesser Hill, and Adam was soonfurtively 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 shallstart," Mr. Salton said when breakfast had begun. "I want to take youfirst to see a remarkable relic of Mercia, and then we'll go to Liverpoolthrough what is called 'The Great Vale of Cheshire.' You may bedisappointed, but take care not to prepare your mind"--this to Adam--"foranything stupendous or heroic. You would not think the place a vale atall, unless you were told so beforehand, and had confidence in theveracity of the teller. We should get to the Landing Stage in time tomeet the _West African_, and catch Mr. Caswall as he comes ashore. Wewant to do him honour--and, besides, it will be more pleasant to have theintroductions over before we go to his _fete_ at the Castle."
The carriage was ready, the same as had been used the previous day, butthere were different horses--magnificent animals, and keen for work.Breakfast was soon over, and they shortly took their places. Thepostillions had their orders, and were quickly on their way at anexhilarating pace.
Presently, in obedience to Mr. Salton's signal, the carriage drew upopposite a great heap of stones by the wayside.
"Here, Adam," he said, "is something that you of all men should not passby unnoticed. That heap of stones brings us at once to the dawn of theAnglian kingdom. It was begun more than a thousand years ago--in thelatter part of the seventh century--in memory of a murder. Wulfere, Kingof Mercia, nephew of Penda, here murdered his two sons for embracingChristianity. As was the custom of the time, each passer-by added astone to the memorial heap. Penda represented heathen reaction after St.Augustine's mission. Sir Nathaniel can tell you as much as you wantabout this, and put you, if you wish, on the track of such accurateknowledge as there is."
Whilst they were looking at the heap of stones, they noticed that anothercarriage had drawn up beside them, and the passenger--there was onlyone--was regarding them curiously. The carriage was an old heavytravelling one, with arms blazoned on it gorgeously. The men took offtheir hats, as the occupant, a lady, addressed them.
"How do you do, Sir Nathaniel? How do you do, Mr. Salton? I hope youhave not met with any accident. Look at me!"
As she spoke she pointed to where one of the heavy springs was brokenacross, 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 Ido. I am an Australian, and, as we have to move about fast, we are alltrained to farriery and such mechanics as come into travel--I am quite atyour service."
"I hardly know how to thank you for your kindness, of which I gladlyavail 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 anotable home-coming; all the countryside want to do him honour." Shelooked at the old men and quickly made up her mind as to the identity ofthe stranger. "You must be Mr. Adam Salton of Lesser Hill. I am LadyArabella March of Diana's Grove." As she spoke she turned slightly toMr. 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 hehad been using--which, after the manner of all workmen, had beenscattered about--when he noticed that several black snakes had crawledout from the heap of stones and were gathering round him. This naturallyoccupied his mind, and he was not thinking of anything else when henoticed Lady Arabella, who had opened the door of the carriage, slip fromit with a quick gliding motion. She was already among the snakes when hecalled out to warn her. But there seemed to be no need of warning. Thesnakes had turned and were wriggling back to the mound as quickly as theycould. He laughed to himself behind his teeth as he whispered, "No needto fear there. They seem much more afraid of her than she of them." Allthe same he began to beat on the ground with a stick which was lyingclose to him, with the instinct of one used to such vermin. In aninstant he was alone beside the mound with Lady Arabella, who appearedquite unconcerned at the incident. Then he took a long look at her, andher dress alone was sufficient to attract attention. She was clad insome kind of soft white stuff, which clung close to her form, showing tothe full every movement of her sinuous figure. She wore a close-fittingcap of some fine fur of dazzling white. Coiled round her white throatwas a large necklace of emeralds, whose profusion of colour dazzled whenthe sun shone on them. Her voice was peculiar, very low and sweet, andso soft that the dominant note was of sibilation. Her hands, too, werepeculiar--long, flexible, white, with a strange movement as of wavinggently to and fro.
She appeared quite at ease, and, after thanking Adam, said that if any ofhis uncle's party were going to Liverpool she would be most happy to joinforces.