CHAPTER II--THE CASWALLS OF CASTRA REGIS
Mr. Salton had all his life been an early riser, and necessarily an
early waker. But early as he woke on the next morning--and although
there was an excuse for not prolonging sleep in the constant whirr
and rattle of the "donkey" engine winches of the great ship--he met
the eyes of Adam fixed on him from his berth. His grand-nephew had
given him the sofa, occupying the lower berth himself. The old man,
despite his great strength and normal activity, was somewhat tired
by his long journey of the day before, and the prolonged and
exciting interview which followed it. So he was glad to lie still
and rest his body, whilst his mind was actively exercised in taking
in all he could of his strange surroundings. Adam, too, after the
pastoral habit to which he had been bred, woke with the dawn, and
was ready to enter on the experiences of the new day whenever it
might suit his elder companion. It was little wonder, then, that,
so soon as each realised the other's readiness, they simultaneously
jumped up and began to dress. The steward had by previous
instructions early breakfast prepared, and it was not long before
they went down the gangway on shore in search of the carriage.
They found Mr. Salton's bailiff looking out for them on the dock,
and he brought them at once to where the carriage was waiting in the
street. Richard Salton pointed out with pride to his young
companion the suitability of the vehicle for every need of travel.
To it were harnessed four useful horses, with a postillion to each
pair.
"See," said the old man proudly, "how it has all the luxuries of
useful travel--silence and isolation as well as speed. There is
nothing to obstruct the view of those travelling and no one to
overhear what they may say. I have used that trap for a quarter of
a century, and I never saw one more suitable for travel. You shall
test it shortly. We are going to drive through the heart of
England; and as we go I'll tell you what I was speaking of last
night. Our route is to be by Salisbury, Bath, Bristol, Cheltenham,
Worcester, Stafford; and so home."
Adam remained silent a few minutes, during which he seemed all eyes,
for he perpetually ranged the whole circle of the horizon.
"Has our journey to-day, sir," he asked, "any special relation to
what you said last night that you wanted to tell me?"
"Not directly; but indirectly, everything."
"Won't you tell me now--I see we cannot be overheard--and if
anything strikes you as we go along, just run it in. I shall
understand."
So old Salton spoke:
"To begin at the beginning, Adam. That lecture of yours on 'The
Romans in Britain,' a report of which you posted to me, set me
thinking--in addition to telling me your tastes. I wrote to you at
once and asked you to come home, for it struck me that if you were
fond of historical research--as seemed a fact--this was exactly the
place for you, in addition to its being the home of your own
forbears. If you could learn so much of the British Romans so far
away in New South Wales, where there cannot be even a tradition of
them, what might you not make of the same amount of study on the
very spot. Where we are going is in the real heart of the old
kingdom of Mercia, where there are traces of all the various
nationalities which made up the conglomerate which became Britain."
"I rather gathered that you had some more definite--more personal
reason for my hurrying. After all, history can keep--except in the
making!"
"Quite right, my boy. I had a reason such as you very wisely
guessed. I was anxious for you to be here when a rather important
phase of our local history occurred."
"What is that, if I may ask, sir?"
"Certainly. The principal land-owner of our part of the county is
on his way home, and there will be a great home-coming, which you
may care to see. The fact is, for more than a century the various
owners in the succession here, with the exception of a short time,
have lived abroad."
"How is that, sir, if I may ask?"
"The great house and estate in our part of the world is Castra
Regis, the family seat of the Caswall family. The last owner who
lived here was Edgar Caswall, grandfather of the man who is coming
here--and he was the only one who stayed even a short time. This
man's grandfather, also named Edgar--they keep the tradition of the
family Christian name--quarrelled with his family and went to live
abroad, not keeping up any intercourse, good or bad, with his
relatives, although this particular Edgar, as I told you, did visit
his family estate, yet his son was born and lived and died abroad,
while his grandson, the latest inheritor, was also born and lived
abroad till he was over thirty--his present age. This was the
second line of absentees. The great estate of Castra Regis has had
no knowledge of its owner for five generations--covering more than a
hundred and twenty years. It has been well administered, however,
and no tenant or other connected with it has had anything of which
to complain. All the same, there has been much natural anxiety to
see the new owner, and we are all excited about the event of his
coming. Even I am, though I own my own estate, which, though
adjacent, is quite apart from Castra Regis.--Here we are now in new
ground for you. That is the spire of Salisbury Cathedral, and when
we leave that we shall be getting close to the old Roman county, and
you will naturally want your eyes. So we shall shortly have to keep
our minds on old Mercia. However, you need not be disappointed. My
old friend, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, who, like myself, is a free-
holder near Castra Regis--his estate, Doom Tower, is over the border
of Derbyshire, on the Peak--is coming to stay with me for the
festivities to welcome Edgar Caswall. He is just the sort of man
you will like. He is devoted to history, and is President of the
Mercian Archaeological Society. He knows more of our own part of
the country, with its history and its people, than anyone else. I
expect he will have arrived before us, and we three can have a long
chat after dinner. He is also our local geologist and natural
historian. So you and he will have many interests in common.
Amongst other things he has a special knowledge of the Peak and its
caverns, and knows all the old legends of prehistoric times."
They spent the night at Cheltenham, and on the following morning
resumed their journey to Stafford. Adam's eyes were in constant
employment, and it was not till Salton declared that they had now
entered on the last stage of their journey, that he referred to Sir
Nathaniel's coming.
As the dusk was closing down, they drove on to Lesser Hill, Mr.
Salton's house. It was now too dark to see any details of their
surroundings. Adam could just see that it was on the top of a hill,
not quite so high as that which was covered by the Castle, on whose
tower flew the flag, and which was all ablaze with moving lights,
manifestly used in the preparations for the festivities on the
morrow. So Adam deferred his curiosity till daylight. His grand-
uncle was met at the door by a fine old man, who greeted him warmly.
"I came over early as you wished. I suppose this is your grand-
nephew--I am glad to meet you, Mr. Adam Salton. I am Nathaniel de
Salis, and your uncle is one of my oldest friends."
Adam, from the moment of their eyes meeting, felt as if they were
already friends. The meeting was a new note of welcome to those
that had already sounded in his ears.
The cordiality with which Sir Nathaniel and Adam met, made the
imparting of information easy. Sir Nathaniel was a clever man of
the world, who had travelled much, and within a certain area studied
deeply. He was a brilliant conversationalist, as was to be expected
from a successful diplomatist, even under unstimulating conditions.
But he had been touched and to a certain extent fired by the younger
man's evident admiration and willingness to learn from him.
Accordingly the conversation, which began on the most friendly
basis, soon warmed to an interest above proof, as the old man spoke
of it next day to Richard Salton. He knew already that his old
friend wanted his grand-nephew to learn all he could of the subject
in hand, and so had during his journey from the Peak put his
thoughts in sequence for narration and explanation. Accordingly,
Adam had only to listen and he must learn much that he wanted to
know. When dinner was over and the servants had withdrawn, leaving
the three men at their wine, Sir Nathaniel began.
"I gather from your uncle--by the way, I suppose we had better speak
of you as uncle and nephew, instead of going into exact
relationship? In fact, your uncle is so old and dear a friend,
that, with your permission, I shall drop formality with you
altogether and speak of you and to you as Adam, as though you were
his son."
"I should like," answered the young man, "nothing better!"
The answer warmed the hearts of both the old men, but, with the
usual avoidance of Englishmen of emotional subjects personal to
themselves, they instinctively returned to the previous question.
Sir Nathaniel took the lead.
"I understand, Adam, that your uncle has posted you regarding the
relationships of the Caswall family?"
"Partly, sir; but I understood that I was to hear minuter details
from you--if you would be so good."
"I shall be delighted to tell you anything so far as my knowledge
goes. Well, the first Caswall in our immediate record is an Edgar,
head of the family and owner of the estate, who came into his
kingdom just about the time that George III. did. He had one son of
about twenty-four. There was a violent quarrel between the two. No
one of this generation has any idea of the cause; but, considering
the family characteristics, we may take it for granted that though
it was deep and violent, it was on the surface trivial.
"The result of the quarrel was that the son left the house without a
reconciliation or without even telling his father where he was
going. He never came back again. A few years after, he died,
without having in the meantime exchanged a word or a letter with his
father. He married abroad and left one son, who seems to have been
brought up in ignorance of all belonging to him. The gulf between
them appears to have been unbridgable; for in time this son married
and in turn had a son, but neither joy nor sorrow brought the
sundered together. Under such conditions no RAPPROCHEMENT was to be
looked for, and an utter indifference, founded at best on ignorance,
took the place of family affection--even on community of interests.
It was only due to the watchfulness of the lawyers that the birth of
this new heir was ever made known. He actually spent a few months
in the ancestral home.
"After this the family interest merely rested on heirship of the
estate. As no other children have been born to any of the newer
generations in the intervening years, all hopes of heritage are now
centred in the grandson of this man.
"Now, it will be well for you to bear in mind the prevailing
characteristics of this race. These were well preserved and
unchanging; one and all they are the same: cold, selfish, dominant,
reckless of consequences in pursuit of their own will. It was not
that they did not keep faith, though that was a matter which gave
them little concern, but that they took care to think beforehand of
what they should do in order to gain their own ends. If they should
make a mistake, someone else should bear the burthen of it. This
was so perpetually recurrent that it seemed to be a part of a fixed
policy. It was no wonder that, whatever changes took place, they
were always ensured in their own possessions. They were absolutely
cold and hard by nature. Not one of them--so far as we have any
knowledge--was ever known to be touched by the softer sentiments, to
swerve from his purpose, or hold his hand in obedience to the
dictates of his heart. The pictures and effigies of them all show
their adherence to the early Roman type. Their eyes were full;
their hair, of raven blackness, grew thick and close and curly.
Their figures were massive and typical of strength.
"The thick black hair, growing low down on the neck, told of vast
physical strength and endurance. But the most remarkable
characteristic is the eyes. Black, piercing, almost unendurable,
they seem to contain in themselves a remarkable will power which
there is no gainsaying. It is a power that is partly racial and
partly individual: a power impregnated with some mysterious
quality, partly hypnotic, partly mesmeric, which seems to take away
from eyes that meet them all power of resistance--nay, all power of
wishing to resist. With eyes like those, set in that all-commanding
face, one would need to be strong indeed to think of resisting the
inflexible will that lay behind.
"You may think, Adam, that all this is imagination on my part,
especially as I have never seen any of them. So it is, but
imagination based on deep study. I have made use of all I know or
can surmise logically regarding this strange race. With such
strange compelling qualities, is it any wonder that there is abroad
an idea that in the race there is some demoniac possession, which
tends to a more definite belief that certain individuals have in the
past sold themselves to the Devil?
"But I think we had better go to bed now. We have a lot to get
through to-morrow, and I want you to have your brain clear, and all
your susceptibilities fresh. Moreover, I want you to come with me
for an early walk, during which we may notice, whilst the matter is
fresh in our minds, the peculiar disposition of this place--not
merely your grand-uncle's estate, but the lie of the country around
it. There are many things on which we may seek--and perhaps find--
enlightenment. The more we know at the start, the more things which
may come into our view will develop themselves."
