CHAPTER XX--METABOLISM

"Am I looking grave?" asked Sir Nathaniel inconsequently when he

re-entered the room.

"You certainly are, sir."

"We little thought when first we met that we should be drawn into such a

vortex. Already we are mixed up in robbery, and probably murder, but--a

thousand times worse than all the crimes in the calendar--in an affair of

ghastly mystery which has no bottom and no end--with forces of the most

unnerving kind, which had their origin in an age when the world was

different from the world which we know. We are going back to the origin

of superstition--to an age when dragons tore each other in their slime.

We must fear nothing--no conclusion, however improbable, almost

impossible it may be. Life and death is hanging on our judgment, not

only for ourselves, but for others whom we love. Remember, I count on

you as I hope you count on me."

"I do, with all confidence."

"Then," said Sir Nathaniel, "let us think justly and boldly and fear

nothing, however terrifying it may seem. I suppose I am to take as exact

in every detail your account of all the strange things which happened

whilst you were in Diana's Grove?"

"So far as I know, yes. Of course I may be mistaken in recollection of

some detail or another, but I am certain that in the main what I have

said is correct."

"You feel sure that you saw Lady Arabella seize the negro round the neck,

and drag him down with her into the hole?"

"Absolutely certain, sir, otherwise I should have gone to her

assistance."

"We have, then, an account of what happened from an eye-witness whom we

trust--that is yourself. We have also another account, written by Lady

Arabella under her own hand. These two accounts do not agree. Therefore

we must take it that one of the two is lying."

"Apparently, sir."

"And that Lady Arabella is the liar!"

"Apparently--as I am not."

"We must, therefore, try to find a reason for her lying. She has nothing

to fear from Oolanga, who is dead. Therefore the only reason which could

actuate her would be to convince someone else that she was blameless.

This 'someone' could not be you, for you had the evidence of your own

eyes. There was no one else present; therefore it must have been an

absent person."

"That seems beyond dispute, sir."

"There is only one other person whose good opinion she could wish to

keep--Edgar Caswall. He is the only one who fills the bill. Her lies

point to other things besides the death of the African. She evidently

wanted it to be accepted that his falling into the well was his own act.

I cannot suppose that she expected to convince you, the eye-witness; but

if she wished later on to spread the story, it was wise of her to try to

get your acceptance of it."

"That is so!"

"Then there were other matters of untruth. That, for instance, of the

ermine collar embroidered with emeralds. If an understandable reason be

required for this, it would be to draw attention away from the green

lights which were seen in the room, and especially in the well-hole. Any

unprejudiced person would accept the green lights to be the eyes of a

great snake, such as tradition pointed to living in the well-hole. In

fine, therefore, Lady Arabella wanted the general belief to be that there

was no snake of the kind in Diana's Grove. For my own part, I don't

believe in a partial liar--this art does not deal in veneer; a liar is a

liar right through. Self-interest may prompt falsity of the tongue; but

if one prove to be a liar, nothing that he says can ever be believed.

This leads us to the conclusion that because she said or inferred that

there was no snake, we should look for one--and expect to find it, too.

"Now let me digress. I live, and have for many years lived, in

Derbyshire, a county more celebrated for its caves than any other county

in England. I have been through them all, and am familiar with every

turn of them; as also with other great caves in Kentucky, in France, in

Germany, and a host of other places--in many of these are tremendously

deep caves of narrow aperture, which are valued by intrepid explorers,

who descend narrow gullets of abysmal depth--and sometimes never return.

In many of the caverns in the Peak I am convinced that some of the

smaller passages were used in primeval times as the lairs of some of the

great serpents of legend and tradition. It may have been that such

caverns were formed in the usual geologic way--bubbles or flaws in the

earth's crust--which were later used by the monsters of the period of the

young world. It may have been, of course, that some of them were worn

originally by water; but in time they all found a use when suitable for

living monsters.

"This brings us to another point, more difficult to accept and understand

than any other requiring belief in a base not usually accepted, or indeed

entered on--whether such abnormal growths could have ever changed in

their nature. Some day the study of metabolism may progress so far as to

enable us to accept structural changes proceeding from an intellectual or

moral base. We may lean towards a belief that great animal strength may

be a sound base for changes of all sorts. If this be so, what could be a

more fitting subject than primeval monsters whose strength was such as to

allow a survival of thousands of years? We do not know yet if brain can

increase and develop independently of other parts of the living

structure.

"After all, the mediaeval belief in the Philosopher's Stone which could

transmute metals, has its counterpart in the accepted theory of

metabolism which changes living tissue. In an age of investigation like

our own, when we are returning to science as the base of wonders--almost

of miracles--we should be slow to refuse to accept facts, however

impossible they may seem to be.

"Let us suppose a monster of the early days of the world--a dragon of the

prime--of vast age running into thousands of years, to whom had been

conveyed in some way--it matters not--a brain just sufficient for the

beginning of growth. Suppose the monster to be of incalculable size and

of a strength quite abnormal--a veritable incarnation of animal strength.

Suppose this animal is allowed to remain in one place, thus being removed

from accidents of interrupted development; might not, would not this

creature, in process of time--ages, if necessary--have that rudimentary

intelligence developed? There is no impossibility in this; it is only

the natural process of evolution. In the beginning, the instincts of

animals are confined to alimentation, self-protection, and the

multiplication of their species. As time goes on and the needs of life

become more complex, power follows need. We have been long accustomed to

consider growth as applied almost exclusively to size in its various

aspects. But Nature, who has no doctrinaire ideas, may equally apply it

to concentration. A developing thing may expand in any given way or

form. Now, it is a scientific law that increase implies gain and loss of

various kinds; what a thing gains in one direction it may lose in

another. May it not be that Mother Nature may deliberately encourage

decrease as well as increase--that it may be an axiom that what is gained

in concentration is lost in size? Take, for instance, monsters that

tradition has accepted and localised, such as the Worm of Lambton or that

of Spindleston Heugh. If such a creature were, by its own process of

metabolism, to change much of its bulk for intellectual growth, we should

at once arrive at a new class of creature--more dangerous, perhaps, than

the world has ever had any experience of--a force which can think, which

has no soul and no morals, and therefore no acceptance of responsibility.

A snake would be a good illustration of this, for it is cold-blooded, and

therefore removed from the temptations which often weaken or restrict

warm-blooded creatures. If, for instance, the Worm of Lambton--if such

ever existed--were guided to its own ends by an organised intelligence

capable of expansion, what form of creature could we imagine which would

equal it in potentialities of evil? Why, such a being would devastate a

whole country. Now, all these things require much thought, and we want

to apply the knowledge usefully, and we should therefore be exact. Would

it not be well to resume the subject later in the day?"

"I quite agree, sir. I am in a whirl already; and 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 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

conversation?"

"That the whole difficulty already assumes practical shape; but with

added dangers, that at first I did not imagine."

"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--"

So Adam went on:

"In the past, in the early days of the world, there were monsters who

were so vast that they could exist for 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 even got 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 as well as up. 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 the 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 one we

love. Result . . . "

"Yes, the result?"

"First, that Mimi Watford should be taken away at once--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. 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 on which they

depended--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. 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 whispered in his ear:

"We will prepare our plans to combat and destroy this horrible menace,

after we have cleared up some of the more baffling points. Meanwhile, we

must wait for the night--I hear my uncle's footsteps echoing down the

hall."

Sir Nathaniel nodded his approval.