Sir Nathaniel glared at me. “What are a few animals compared to a discovery of this magnitude?”
Holmes nodded. “Yes, yes, it all makes perfect sense.” He glanced briefly at me, and I knew that he thought that it only made perfect sense if the worm existed, but it—she—did not. “I can certainly understand your position. However, I have heard some talk of the possibility of a human sacrifice.”
Sir Nathaniel frowned. “It is only talk. I do not think… She has been vague.”
“And what would you do if a human sacrifice were proposed?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“For God’s sake,” I moaned.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, but we… we know so little about the beast, about its dietary requirements and the like. I cannot believe… Surely it cannot require living prey? We might be able to satisfy her with those who have already died.”
I simply stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“Once one is dead, what does it matter, Dr. Vernier? Being devoured by a prehistoric beast would be a far more magnificent end than rotting in a common pauper’s grave, would it not?”
Holmes put the cigar in his mouth, then clapped his hands together twice, nodding. He took out the cigar and exhaled. “I agree. I would certainly prefer such an end to moldering away in a coffin under the earth.”
Sir Nathaniel smiled. “Exactly, sir—exactly!”
Holmes glanced at the windows. “The sun has certainly set. Is it time to go outside?”
De Salis tapped his cigar against the ashtray, knocking off a huge ash. “Indeed it is. The evening should be beautiful. The moon is approaching full, and when it rises there will be considerable light.”
Sir Nathaniel stood. He was wearing the same slightly worn, blue-black frock coat as on our first visit. He went to the doorway and took his battered top hat from its shelf, put it on, then opened the door and started up the steps.
When we came outside, the wind from the sea was cool on my face. Overhead was the vast expanse of dark sky, a few stars already strikingly bright. Holmes and Sir Nathaniel went toward the wall overlooking the sea. I naturally held back, not wanting to trigger my vertigo. The water was still faintly luminous from the faded sky, the long line of the horizon clearly visible. I heard the continuing crescendo and diminuendo of the surf below. I thrust my hands in my pockets. The day had been pleasantly warm, but once the sun was down, it grew cold quickly, especially given the damp air and the nearness of the ocean.
“A beautiful evening indeed,” Holmes said.
“It is,” Sir Nathaniel replied. “Sometime, perhaps you might spend the night at Doom Tower and come up here in the morning for the sunrise. It is spectacular over the sea, especially when there are a few clouds.”
“Is this what you wanted to show us?” My voice reflected my puzzlement.
“No. That would be to the north.” The old man turned and started off to our left. Holmes and I followed, although I still stayed well back from the wall. He paused after swinging some forty-five degrees round the tower’s circular wall. “Do you see that second dark area, just there to the north along the sea? That smaller patch is the park before Lesser Hill, but the far larger one is the wood round Diana’s Grove. The house itself is hidden by the trees.”
“I see it,” Holmes said.
“Let us watch for a while.” Sir Nathaniel leaned slightly sideways as he set one elbow on the wall. He began to hum softly to himself.
Holmes slipped one hand into his jacket pocket and stood silently. I drew in my breath and gazed again up at the sky, trying to forget about how far above the ground we must be. Again I remarked the striking difference between the night sky of London and the Yorkshire countryside. The sky was darker, contrasting dramatically with the brilliant stars, and even now with some residual light left inland to the west, far more stars were visible. The brightest were magnitudes brighter than in London with its gas lamps and smoky air.
“What an evening,” Holmes said. “Someday, when I have enough of crime and my profession, I shall retire to the country where I can see the heavens like this every night.”
Sir Nathaniel laughed. “It is enviable on a night like this, but you forget how frequently the clouds obscure the stars, and rain or snow fall. It is far too cold to come outside much of the year, too.”
“You can always look at the sea from your aerie below.”
Sir Nathaniel laughed again. “You needn’t try to convince me, Mr. Holmes. I live here because I love this country, and… Ah! Ah! You see?” He had stood upright and set both hands on the wall.
I could not see past them, but Holmes also stood up straight. “What is it?” I asked.
“Very interesting,” Holmes said. “Come closer, just to my right. You see how formidable the wall is. Have a look at Diana’s Grove.”
I stepped nearer. The wall was high and sturdy, and so long as I did not look down… I followed the still faintly shimmering sweep of the sea to the north and saw a swaying white shape, faintly luminous, slowly rising out of the dark woods. It rose higher and higher, stopped suddenly. It moved again: one vivid green light appeared, then another—two glowing green eyes in that white head. It bobbed slightly, then turned. Green beams streamed from the eyes.
Holmes laughed softly. “Oh, well done.”
“Dear God,” I murmured. I rested both hands on the wall, my fingers clutching at the cold stone. An odd shiver worked its way up my back. “It cannot be—it cannot.”
The old man laughed. “Do you still think the worm is nonsense, Dr. Vernier?”
“But its eyes! You are the naturalist—how can they shine that way?”
“They must have adapted over the millennia to allow it to prowl through the depths of the earth.”
The worm hovered for a few seconds, then slowly sank down. “It’s impossible,” I moaned, but almost immediately, it rose up, perhaps a little to the left of where it had just been. The two green beams swept from right to left as if it were searching the grove for something. It rose even higher this time. Given the height of the trees, it would have to be well over fifty feet high.
My mind was at war with itself—the rational part battling the instinctual. Hypothesis after hypothesis rose up, all of them conflicting with the more visceral responses of my body, which was alarmed, even at this distance. For once, even my vertigo was forgotten.
I grasped Holmes’s arm. “For God’s sake—what is that thing?”
“Are you blind, man?” de Salis exclaimed. “That is her! Behold the great White Worm in all her glory!”
Holmes spoke very softly, for my ears only. “It is a fake, Henry—a fraud.”
I sighed. A part of me had already figured that out, but the other part was tremendously relieved.
“When did the worm first appear?” Holmes asked.
“About a month ago. Corchen somehow knows when she will come forth out of the pit.”
“And how often have you seen it?”
“This is the fourth time, and it is generally just after dark. The last time she was moving about for almost two hours. Now do you understand? Eventually she must come forth during the ceremony, the mother herself. Imagine being able to see her up close!”
“Yes, yes.” Holmes nodded. “If you’ll forgive me, Sir Nathaniel, we must say farewell. I want to have a closer look.”
The old man shrugged. “Have a try, although she will certainly see you coming and return to her lair. That was what happened when I tried walking over to the grove on one occasion.”
“All the same, I should like to try.” He glanced at me. “Henry?”
I followed as he rushed down the short stairway, and then the much longer one winding round down the tower. Holmes quickly hitched the horse to the dog-cart, then we set off back toward the grove, sitting side by side.
The swollen gibbous moon had risen, giving us enough light to make our way on the open moor. Holmes tried to hasten the old horse, but he
was obviously not capable of much speed, which was well, given the darkness. As the cart rumbled and jounced along, the cold damp air on my face, I stared up at the writhing white form of the worm set against the dark sky. It grew larger, even as more and more stars were appearing. Its green eyes would sweep round like some lighthouse top. Occasionally the worm would sink down, a dim green glow still showing, then it slowly rose up again.
We had nearly reached the trees of the grove when it sank down for the last time, and the green was suddenly extinguished. “Blast it!” Holmes exclaimed. He pulled the reins, drawing the horse to a stop. “No use rushing now. I need to light the lamps, anyway, before we enter the woods.”
“You think it’s gone?”
“Yes. They knew how long it would take me to get here from Doom Tower.” He laughed softly. “I thought nothing could ever top the glowing Baskerville hound, but the White Worm is the clear victor!”
Nine
Holmes had just lit the second lamp when we heard a woman shout, “Henry!”
I turned, started down the path, then began to run. She shouted my name again. Under the moonlight I saw her and a huge man who must be Adam Selton. She started toward me. I put my arms around her, she did the same, and we embraced one another fiercely. Few women were as strong as Michelle. She wore a woolen traveling suit and a practical hat.
“Thank God you’ve come,” I said.
“Is that how you greet your wife?” she said.
Our lips met, and the kiss quickly dispensed with formalities and became the kind best pursued behind locked doors. I was grateful for the darkness, but since Holmes and Selton were nearby, I soon drew away.
She touched my cheek with her big hand. “That’s more like it.”
“I am glad to see you.”
“And I you.” She looked up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful here. Look at the stars—you can see the Milky Way.”
Despite the moonlight, you could see the cloudy white band of stars overhead. “Yes.” Suddenly I frowned. “But what are you doing here? Walking in the darkness?”
“My driver from Whitby took one look at that ridiculous apparition rising over the trees and would go no further. He dropped me off at Lesser Hill. I was determined to continue on to the grove, and Mr. Selton kindly insisted on accompanying me. He thought it would be best to go on foot, as we would be less likely to be seen.”
I shook my head. “How could you do something so foolhardy?”
She laughed. “Mr. Selton felt much the same way.” She picked up her medical bag, which she had dropped, opened it, and withdrew a long-barreled revolver. “However, things sounded sufficiently grave in your last telegram that I came prepared.”
“So you were going to shoot the giant serpent?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Henry. Whatever that was, it was not a giant serpent.”
Holmes laughed and stepped nearer. “Bravo, Michelle. I knew you could not be fooled.”
I shook my head. “Unlike your idiot of a husband.”
Selton had approached closer once we had stopped kissing. “That was not a serpent?”
“Most assuredly not,” Holmes said. “It was a clever fake.”
“Are you certain of that, Mr. Holmes?” Selton asked. “Absolutely certain?”
“I am.”
“Thank God for that.”
I could tell from the tone of his voice that he had been badly frightened. I suppose I came next in gullibility, while Michelle and Holmes were completely unruffled. I reflected again on the cruel trick fate had played upon me. How I wished I had been born with some small fraction of Michelle’s sangfroid!
“I suppose your bags are back at Lesser Hill,” Holmes said. “Would you like me to take you back for them?”
“Absolutely not. I have had more than enough of carriages and trains for one day. It can wait until tomorrow.”
Holmes nodded. “One of the Marsh ladies will doubtlessly be willing to lend you a nightgown.”
In the moonlight I could see her smile up at me. She squeezed my hand tightly. “That won’t be necessary.” Her voice was almost a whisper. I squeezed her hand back.
“What did you say?” Holmes asked.
“Oh, I mean, yes—of course,” she said. “I am certain they will.”
Selton had folded his brawny arms. “Whatever that thing was, are you sure that it is gone? That it is safe?”
Holmes nodded. “Yes, and besides, you can see that Dr. Doudet Vernier is armed.”
“Very well. I’ll be heading back to Lesser Hill then.”
Selton turned, but Michelle reached out and seized his wrist. He turned again, and I could see his eyes opened wide, his lips parted. “Thank you for accompanying me, Mr. Selton.”
He shook his head once. “I couldn’t let you go wandering off in the dark with that thing over the grove.”
“I know you thought I was quite crazy, but you came all the same. Again, thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome, ma’am—I mean, Dr. Vernier—I mean Dr. Doudet… Vernier…?”
Michelle laughed. “It is complicated, is it not? Ma’am will do.”
“Very well… Ma’am.”
She laughed. “That was not so very hard, was it? Good night, then.”
He nodded, turned and strode away. Michelle laughed softly. “Poor fellow. I don’t know what frightens him most—giant white serpents or women.”
I shook my head. “Given his nature, that was genuinely brave of him. And I can certainly understand his questioning your sanity. By the way, could you please put the revolver back in the bag now?”
She did so. Holmes stepped up into the driver’s seat. I helped Michelle up, then started up myself. Holmes turned slightly toward us. “Say nothing of what we saw to anyone in the house. Even if anyone were out of doors, I doubt they would have been able to see anything through the trees.” He shook his head. “Pity. In the darkness, it would be a waste of time to try to find anyone in the woods. They are probably gone by now, and even if not, they could see an approaching lantern’s light from afar.”
“Why bother with a lantern? I’m sure Michelle would be glad to stumble around the forest with you looking for lunatics in the utter blackness. However, please drop me off first.”
Holmes laughed, and Michelle shook her head. “You need not take that tone.”
“Yes, yes,” I said. Soon we were on our way, our backs to Holmes. The carriage jounced slightly, and the lamps on either side lit up the woods, illuminating lichen-spotted trunks and the saw-toothed leaves of ferns.
I had put my arm around Michelle. “I am glad to see you, you know. You won’t have received my telegram from today.” I told her about Evans’ body.
She shook her head. “How horrible, my poor darling. Another dark business.”
We soon reached the house. Holmes stopped before the door. “I shall see to the horse, then join you. Sorry, old fellow,” he said to the animal, “I’m afraid we pushed you to your limits this evening. I suspected it would be futile, but I had to try.”
I used the knocker on the front door, and soon Mrs. Troughton ushered us inside. I introduced Michelle to the housekeeper. She curtsied politely, then said, “Miss Marsh and Lady Verr are in the sitting room.”
“We’d best get all the introductions over with,” I said.
Michelle sighed. “Oh, Henry—must we?” We had started up the stairs alone. She seized my arm, looked about, then quickly kissed me.
“We shall make them brief—very brief.”
Diana and Arabella were playing cards at a small table, a lamp illuminating the cribbage board, while the flames flickered about a massive log in the fireplace. Angela sat in a chair near the fireplace working on her embroidery. Arabella set down her cards and stood up, smiling. As usual, she was in an elegant white silk dress, complete with emerald necklace. Her green spectacles sat low on her nose, and she stared up at Michelle, who was four or five inches taller than she. Her smile faltered briefly, h
er brows coming inward.
“At last—Dr. Doudet Vernier. I must admit, you are not exactly what I expected.”
Michelle stared at her. “How so?”
“You are statuesque and quite stunning. I suppose I took the well-trodden path and assumed, foolishly, that a woman doctor must be rather plain. I do know better. What a pleasure to have you at Diana’s Grove as our guest.”
“You must forgive me for arriving so suddenly and with no warning.”
“Not at all—not at all. We have been expecting you. We have heard so much about you!” She set her hand lightly on Michelle’s forearm and gave a gentle squeeze. “It will be a pleasure to have a woman of beauty and intelligence in the house. I hope reptiles are more to your taste than your husband’s.”
“Reptiles?” Michelle’s eyes shifted to mine, then back to Arabella.
“Yes, yes. I have a few pets—a boa constrictor, some lizards and a turtle. Surely a medical doctor cannot be afraid of snakes?”
Michelle smiled. “Not this one, anyway.”
“And would you care to see Delilah swallow her weekly rabbit tomorrow?”
Michelle shrugged. “I suppose so.”
Arabella gave her arm another squeeze. “I know we shall be friends, great friends! We have so much in common. We might be sisters—the three of us.” She turned to encompass Diana in her gaze.
Her niece had stood as well. She looked rather pale, but at the mention of “a woman of beauty and intelligence” a faint flush had appeared at her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on her aunt and Michelle, but they shifted to me. She smiled weakly.
“Michelle,” I said, “this is Miss Marsh, Diana—I mean Miss Diana Marsh.”
Diana stared at me. “You may certainly call me Diana, should you wish, Dr. Vernier.”
Michelle stepped forward and touched her arm. Slender and slightly awkward, Diana still seemed a girl, while Michelle with her fuller figure and easy confidence was clearly a woman. “I hope when you know me better, I too might have that privilege.”
Diana smiled at her.
“Why don’t we dispense with the stuffy British formalities, and all use first names?” Arabella said. “I can dispense with the ‘lady’ if you can both let the ‘doctor’ go. After all, Dr. Vernier—Henry—has been here nearly an entire week. Oh, I know that Mr. Holmes simply must be Mr. Holmes, but for the rest of us, won’t first names do?”
The White Worm Page 19