The Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker (white hot kiss .TXT) 📕

point near, and holding the lantern as high as he could, threw the light round the edges of the door to see if he could find anywhere a hole or a flaw in the metal through which he could obtain a glimpse.  Foiled in this, he brought from the shrubbery a plank, which he leant against the top of the door and then climbed up with great dexterity.  This did not bring him near enough to the window-hole to look in, or even to throw the light of the lantern through it, so he climbed down and carried the plank back to the place from which he had got it.  Then he concealed himself near the iron door and waited, manifestly with the intent of remaining there till someone came near.  Presently Lady Arabella, moving noiselessly through the shade, approached the door.  When he saw her close enough to touch it, Oolanga stepped forward from his concealment, and spoke in a whisper, which through the gloom sounded like a hiss.

“I want to see you, missy—soon and secret.”

“What do you want?”

“You know well, missy; I told you already.”

She turned on him with blazing eyes, the green tint in them glowing like emeralds.

“Come, none of that.  If there is anything sensible which you wish to say to me, you can see me here, just where we are, at seven o’clock.”

He made no reply in words, but, putting the backs of his hands together, bent lower and lower till his forehead touched the earth.  Then he rose and went slowly away.

Adam Salton, from his hiding-place, saw and wondered.  In a few minutes he moved from his place and went home to Lesser Hill, fully determined that seven o’clock would find him in some hidden place behind Diana’s Grove.

At a little before seven Adam stole softly out of the house and took the back-way to the rear of Diana’s Grove.  The place seemed silent and deserted, so he took the opportunity of concealing himself near the spot whence he had seen Oolanga trying to investigate whatever was concealed behind the iron door.  He waited, perfectly still, and at last saw a gleam of white passing soundlessly through the undergrowth.  He was not surprised when he recognised the colour of Lady Arabella’s dress.  She came close and waited, with her face to the iron door.  From some place of concealment near at hand Oolanga appeared, and came close to her.  Adam noticed, with surprised amusement, that over his shoulder was the box with the mongoose.  Of course the African did not know that he was seen by anyone, least of all by the man whose property he had with him.

Silent-footed as he was, Lady Arabella heard him coming, and turned to meet him.  It was somewhat hard to see in the gloom, for, as usual, he was all in black, only his collar and cuffs showing white.  Lady Arabella opened the conversation which ensued between the two.

“What do you want?  To rob me, or murder me?”

“No, to lub you!”

This frightened her a little, and she tried to change the tone.

“Is that a coffin you have with you?  If so, you are wasting your time.  It would not hold me.”

When a nigger suspects he is being laughed at, all the ferocity of his nature comes to the front; and this man was of the lowest kind.

“Dis ain’t no coffin for nobody.  Dis box is for you.  Somefin you lub.  Me give him to you!”

Still anxious to keep off the subject of affection, on which she believed him to have become crazed, she made another effort to keep his mind elsewhere.

“Is this why you want to see me?”  He nodded.  “Then come round to the other door.  But be quiet.  I have no desire to be seen so close to my own house in conversation with a—a—a nigger like you!”

She had chosen the word deliberately.  She wished to meet his passion with another kind.  Such would, at all events, help to keep him quiet.  In the deep gloom she could not see the anger which suffused his face.  Rolling eyeballs and grinding teeth are, however, sufficient signs of anger to be decipherable in the dark.  She moved round the corner of the house to her right.  Oolanga was following her, when she stopped him by raising her hand.

“No, not that door,” she said; “that is not for niggers.  The other door will do well enough for you!”

Lady Arabella took in her hand a small key which hung at the end of her watch-chain, and moved to a small door, low down, round the corner, and a little downhill from the edge of the Brow.  Oolanga, in obedience to her gesture, went back to the iron door.  Adam looked carefully at the mongoose box as the African went by, and was glad to see that it was intact.  Unconsciously, as he looked, he fingered the key that was in his waistcoat pocket.  When Oolanga was out of sight, Adam hurried after Lady Arabella.

CHAPTER XVIII—EXIT OOLANGA

The woman turned sharply as Adam touched her shoulder.

“One moment whilst we are alone.  You had better not trust that nigger!” he whispered.

Her answer was crisp and concise:

“I don’t.”

“Forewarned is forearmed.  Tell me if you will—it is for your own protection.  Why do you mistrust him?”

“My friend, you have no idea of that man’s impudence.  Would you believe that he wants me to marry him?”

“No!” said Adam incredulously, amused in spite of himself.

“Yes, and wanted to bribe me to do it by sharing a chest of treasure—at least, he thought it was—stolen from Mr. Caswall.  Why do you distrust him, Mr. Salton?”

“Did you notice that box he had slung on his shoulder?  That belongs to me.  I left it in the gun-room when I went to lunch.  He must have crept in and stolen it.  Doubtless he thinks that it, too, is full of treasure.”

“He does!”

“How on earth do you know?” asked Adam.

“A little while ago he offered to give it to me—another bribe to accept him.  Faugh!  I am ashamed to tell you such a thing.  The beast!”

Whilst they had been speaking, she had opened the door, a narrow iron one, well hung, for it opened easily and closed tightly without any creaking or sound of any kind.  Within all was dark; but she entered as freely and with as little misgiving or restraint as if it had been broad daylight.  For Adam, there was just sufficient green light from somewhere for him to see that there was a broad flight of heavy stone steps leading upward; but Lady Arabella, after shutting the door behind her, when it closed tightly without a clang, tripped up the steps lightly and swiftly.  For an instant all was dark, but there came again the faint green light which enabled him to see the outlines of things.  Another iron door, narrow like the first and fairly high, led into another large room, the walls of which were of massive stones, so closely joined together as to exhibit only one smooth surface.  This presented the appearance of having at one time been polished.  On the far side, also smooth like the walls, was the reverse of a wide, but not high, iron door.  Here there was a little more light, for the high-up aperture over the door opened to the air.

Lady Arabella took from her girdle another small key, which she inserted in a keyhole in the centre of a massive lock.  The great bolt seemed wonderfully hung, for the moment the small key was turned, the bolts of the great lock moved noiselessly and the iron doors swung open.  On the stone steps outside stood Oolanga, with the mongoose box slung over his shoulder.  Lady Arabella stood a little on one side, and the African, accepting the movement as an invitation, entered in an obsequious way.  The moment, however, that he was inside, he gave a quick look around him.

“Much death here—big death.  Many deaths.  Good, good!”

He sniffed round as if he was enjoying the scent.  The matter and manner of his speech were so revolting that instinctively Adam’s hand wandered to his revolver, and, with his finger on the trigger, he rested satisfied that he was ready for any emergency.

There was certainly opportunity for the nigger’s enjoyment, for the open well-hole was almost under his nose, sending up such a stench as almost made Adam sick, though Lady Arabella seemed not to mind it at all.  It was like nothing that Adam had ever met with.  He compared it with all the noxious experiences he had ever had—the drainage of war hospitals, of slaughter-houses, the refuse of dissecting rooms.  None of these was like it, though it had something of them all, with, added, the sourness of chemical waste and the poisonous effluvium of the bilge of a water-logged ship whereon a multitude of rats had been drowned.

Then, quite unexpectedly, the negro noticed the presence of a third person—Adam Salton!  He pulled out a pistol and shot at him, happily missing.  Adam was himself usually a quick shot, but this time his mind had been on something else and he was not ready.  However, he was quick to carry out an intention, and he was not a coward.  In another moment both men were in grips.  Beside them was the dark well-hole, with that horrid effluvium stealing up from its mysterious depths.

Adam and Oolanga both had pistols; Lady Arabella, who had not one, was probably the most ready of them all in the theory of shooting, but that being impossible, she made her effort in another way.  Gliding forward, she tried to seize the African; but he eluded her grasp, just missing, in doing so, falling into the mysterious hole.  As he swayed back to firm foothold, he turned his own gun on her and shot.  Instinctively Adam leaped at his assailant; clutching at each other, they tottered on the very brink.

Lady Arabella’s anger, now fully awake, was all for Oolanga.  She moved towards him with her hands extended, and had just seized him when the catch of the locked box—due to some movement from within—flew open, and the king-cobra-killer flew at her with a venomous fury impossible to describe.  As it seized her throat, she caught hold of it, and, with a fury superior to its own, tore it in two just as if it had been a sheet of paper.  The strength used for such an act must have been terrific.  In an instant, it seemed to spout blood and entrails, and was hurled into the well-hole.  In another instant she had seized Oolanga, and with a swift rush had drawn him, her white arms encircling him, down with her into the gaping aperture.

Adam saw a medley of green and red lights blaze in a whirling circle, and as it sank down into the well, a pair of blazing green eyes became fixed, sank lower and lower with frightful rapidity, and disappeared, throwing upward the green light which grew more and more vivid every moment.  As the light sank into the noisome depths, there came a shriek which chilled Adam’s blood—a prolonged agony of pain and terror which seemed to have no end.

Adam Salton felt that he would never be able to free his mind from the memory of those dreadful moments.  The gloom which surrounded that horrible charnel pit, which seemed to go down to the very bowels of the earth, conveyed from far down the sights and sounds of the nethermost hell.  The ghastly fate of the African as he sank down to his terrible doom, his black face growing grey with terror, his white eyeballs, now like veined bloodstone, rolling in the helpless extremity of fear.  The mysterious green light was in itself a milieu of horror.  And through it all the awful cry came up from that fathomless pit, whose entrance was flooded with spots of fresh blood.  Even the death of the fearless little snake-killer—so fierce, so frightful, as if stained with a ferocity which told of no living force above earth, but only of the devils of the pit—was only an incident.  Adam was in a state of intellectual tumult, which had no parallel in his experience.  He tried to rush away from the horrible place; even the baleful green light, thrown up through the gloomy well-shaft, was dying away as its source sank deeper into the primeval ooze.  The darkness was closing in on him in overwhelming density—darkness in such a place and with such a memory of it!

He made a wild rush forward—slipt on the steps in some sticky, acrid-smelling mass that felt and smelt like blood, and, falling forward, felt his way into the inner room, where the well-shaft was not.

Then he rubbed his eyes in sheer amazement.  Up the stone steps from the narrow door by which he had entered, glided the white-clad figure of Lady Arabella, the only colour to be