Chapter Chapter 10 · THE KITE

. THE KITE

On the following day, a little after four o'clock, Adam set out for

Mercy.

He was home just as the clocks were striking six. He was pale and upset,

but otherwise looked strong and alert. The old man summed up his

appearance and manner thus: "Braced up for battle."

"Now!" said Sir Nathaniel, and settled down to listen, looking at Adam

steadily and listening attentively that he might miss nothing--even the

inflection of a word.

"I found Lilla and Mimi at home. Watford had been detained by business

on the farm. Miss Watford received me as kindly as before; Mimi, too,

seemed glad to see me. Mr. Caswall came so soon after I arrived, that

he, or someone on his behalf, must have been watching for me. He was

followed closely by the negro, who was puffing hard as if he had been

running--so it was probably he who watched. Mr. Caswall was very cool

and collected, but there was a more than usually iron look about his face

that I did not like. However, we got on very well. He talked pleasantly

on all sorts of questions. The nigger waited a while and then

disappeared as on the other occasion. Mr. Caswall's eyes were as usual

fixed on Lilla. True, they seemed to be very deep and earnest, but there

was no offence in them. Had it not been for the drawing down of the

brows and the stern set of the jaws, I should not at first have noticed

anything. But the stare, when presently it began, increased in

intensity. I could see that Lilla began to suffer from nervousness, as

on the first occasion; but she carried herself bravely. However, the

more nervous she grew, the harder Mr. Caswall stared. It was evident to

me that he had come prepared for some sort of mesmeric or hypnotic

battle. After a while he began to throw glances round him and then

raised his hand, without letting either Lilla or Mimi see the action. It

was evidently intended to give some sign to the negro, for he came, in

his usual stealthy way, quietly in by the hall door, which was open. Then

Mr. Caswall's efforts at staring became intensified, and poor Lilla's

nervousness grew greater. Mimi, seeing that her cousin was distressed,

came close to her, as if to comfort or strengthen her with the

consciousness of her presence. This evidently made a difficulty for Mr.

Caswall, for his efforts, without appearing to get feebler, seemed less

effective. This continued for a little while, to the gain of both Lilla

and Mimi. Then there was a diversion. Without word or apology the door

opened, and Lady Arabella March entered the room. I had seen her coming

through the great window. Without a word she crossed the room and stood

beside Mr. Caswall. It really was very like a fight of a peculiar kind;

and the longer it was sustained the more earnest--the fiercer--it grew.

That combination of forces--the over-lord, the white woman, and the black

man--would have cost some--probably all of them--their lives in the

Southern States of America. To us it was simply horrible. But all that

you can understand. This time, to go on in sporting phrase, it was

understood by all to be a 'fight to a finish,' and the mixed group did

not slacken a moment or relax their efforts. On Lilla the strain began

to tell disastrously. She grew pale--a patchy pallor, which meant that

her nerves were out of order. She trembled like an aspen, and though she

struggled bravely, I noticed that her legs would hardly support her. A

dozen times she seemed about to collapse in a faint, but each time, on

catching sight of Mimi's eyes, she made a fresh struggle and pulled

through.

"By now Mr. Caswall's face had lost its appearance of passivity. His

eyes glowed with a fiery light. He was still the old Roman in

inflexibility of purpose; but grafted on to the Roman was a new Berserker

fury. His companions in the baleful work seemed to have taken on

something of his feeling. Lady Arabella looked like a soulless, pitiless

being, not human, unless it revived old legends of transformed human

beings who had lost their humanity in some transformation or in the sweep

of natural savagery. As for the negro--well, I can only say that it was

solely due to the self-restraint which you impressed on me that I did not

wipe him out as he stood--without warning, without fair play--without a

single one of the graces of life and death. Lilla was silent in the

helpless concentration of deadly fear; Mimi was all resolve and

self-forgetfulness, so intent on the soul-struggle in which she was

engaged that there was no possibility of any other thought. As for

myself, the bonds of will which held me inactive seemed like bands of

steel which numbed all my faculties, except sight and hearing. We seemed

fixed in an _impasse_. Something must happen, though the power of

guessing was inactive. As in a dream, I saw Mimi's hand move restlessly,

as if groping for something. Mechanically it touched that of Lilla, and

in that instant she was transformed. It was as if youth and strength

entered afresh into something already dead to sensibility and intention.

As if by inspiration, she grasped the other's band with a force which

blenched the knuckles. Her face suddenly flamed, as if some divine light

shone through it. Her form expanded till it stood out majestically.

Lifting her right hand, she stepped forward towards Caswall, and with a

bold sweep of her arm seemed to drive some strange force towards him.

Again and again was the gesture repeated, the man falling back from her

at each movement. Towards the door he retreated, she following. There

was a sound as of the cooing sob of doves, which seemed to multiply and

intensify with each second. The sound from the unseen source rose and

rose as he retreated, till finally it swelled out in a triumphant peal,

as she with a fierce sweep of her arm, seemed to hurl something at her

foe, and he, moving his hands blindly before his face, appeared to be

swept through the doorway and out into the open sunlight.

"All at once my own faculties were fully restored; I could see and hear

everything, and be fully conscious of what was going on. Even the

figures of the baleful group were there, though dimly seen as through a

veil--a shadowy veil. I saw Lilla sink down in a swoon, and Mimi throw

up her arms in a gesture of triumph. As I saw her through the great

window, the sunshine flooded the landscape, which, however, was

momentarily becoming eclipsed by an onrush of a myriad birds."

By the next morning, daylight showed the actual danger which threatened.

From every part of the eastern counties reports were received concerning

the enormous immigration of birds. Experts were sending--on their own

account, on behalf of learned societies, and through local and imperial

governing bodies--reports dealing with the matter, and suggesting

remedies.

The reports closer to home were even more disturbing. All day long it

would seem that the birds were coming thicker from all quarters.

Doubtless many were going as well as coming, but the mass seemed never to

get less. Each bird seemed to sound some note of fear or anger or

seeking, and the whirring of wings never ceased nor lessened. The air

was full of a muttered throb. No window or barrier could shut out the

sound, till the ears of any listener became dulled by the ceaseless

murmur. So monotonous it was, so cheerless, so disheartening, so

melancholy, that all longed, but in vain, for any variety, no matter how

terrible it might be.

The second morning the reports from all the districts round were more

alarming than ever. Farmers began to dread the coming of winter as they

saw the dwindling of the timely fruitfulness of the earth. And as yet it

was only a warning of evil, not the evil accomplished; the ground began

to look bare whenever some passing sound temporarily frightened the

birds.

Edgar Caswall tortured his brain for a long time unavailingly, to think

of some means of getting rid of what he, as well as his neighbours, had

come to regard as a plague of birds. At last he recalled a circumstance

which promised a solution of the difficulty. The experience was of some

years ago in China, far up-country, towards the head-waters of the Yang-

tze-kiang, where the smaller tributaries spread out in a sort of natural

irrigation scheme to supply the wilderness of paddy-fields. It was at

the time of the ripening rice, and the myriads of birds which came to

feed on the coming crop was a serious menace, not only to the district,

but to the country at large. The farmers, who were more or less

afflicted with the same trouble every season, knew how to deal with it.

They made a vast kite, which they caused to be flown over the centre spot

of the incursion. The kite was shaped like a great hawk; and the moment

it rose into the air the birds began to cower and seek protection--and

then to disappear. So long as that kite was flying overhead the birds

lay low and the crop was saved. Accordingly Caswall ordered his men to

construct an immense kite, adhering as well as they could to the lines of

a hawk. Then he and his men, with a sufficiency of cord, began to fly it

high overhead. The experience of China was repeated. The moment the

kite rose, the birds hid or sought shelter. The following morning, the

kite was still flying high, no bird was to be seen as far as the eye

could reach from Castra Regis. But there followed in turn what proved

even a worse evil. All the birds were cowed; their sounds stopped.

Neither song nor chirp was heard--silence seemed to have taken the place

of the normal voices of bird life. But that was not all. The silence

spread to all animals.

The fear and restraint which brooded amongst the denizens of the air

began to affect all life. Not only did the birds cease song or chirp,

but the lowing of the cattle ceased in the fields and the varied sounds

of life died away. In place of these things was only a soundless gloom,

more dreadful, more disheartening, more soul-killing than any concourse

of sounds, no matter how full of fear and dread. Pious individuals put

up constant prayers for relief from the intolerable solitude. After a

little there were signs of universal depression which those who ran might

read. One and all, the faces of men and women seemed bereft of vitality,

of interest, of thought, and, most of all, of hope. Men seemed to have

lost the power of expression of their thoughts. The soundless air seemed

to have the same effect as the universal darkness when men gnawed their

tongues with pain.

From this infliction of silence there was no relief. Everything was

affected; gloom was the predominant note. Joy appeared to have passed

away as a factor of life, and this creative impulse had nothing to take

its place. That giant spot in high air was a plague of evil influence.

It seemed like a new misanthropic belief which had fallen on human

beings, carrying with it the negation of all hope.

After a few days, men began to grow desperate; their very words as well

as their senses seemed to be in chains. Edgar Caswall again tortured his

brain to find any antidote or palliative of this greater evil than

before. He would gladly have destroyed the kite, or caused its flying to

cease; but the instant it was pulled down, the birds rose up in even

greater numbers; all those who depended in any way on agriculture sent

pitiful protests to Castra Regis.

It was strange indeed what influence that weird kite seemed to exercise.

Even human beings were affected by it, as if both it and they were

realities. As for the people at Mercy Farm, it was like a taste of

actual death. Lilla felt it most. If she had been indeed a real dove,

with a real kite hanging over her in the air, she could not have been

more frightened or more affected by the terror this created.

Of course, some of those already drawn into the vortex noticed the effect

on individuals. Those who were interested took care to compare their

information. Strangely enough, as it seemed to the others, the person

who took the ghastly silence least to heart was the negro. By nature he

was not sensitive to, or afflicted by, nerves. This alone would not have

produced the seeming indifference, so they set their minds to discover

the real cause. Adam came quickly to the conclusion that there was for

him some compensation that the others did not share; and he soon believed

that that compensation was in one form or another the enjoyment of the

sufferings of others. Thus the black had a never-failing source of

amusement.

Lady Arabella's cold nature rendered her immune to anything in the way of

pain or trouble concerning others. Edgar Caswall was far too haughty a

person, and too stern of nature, to concern himself about poor or

helpless people, much less the lower order of mere animals. Mr. Watford,

Mr. Salton, and Sir Nathaniel were all concerned in the issue, partly

from kindness of heart--for none of them could see suffering, even of

wild birds, unmoved--and partly on account of their property, which had

to be protected, or ruin would stare them in the face before long.

Lilla suffered acutely. As time went on, her face became pinched, and

her eyes dull with watching and crying. Mimi suffered too on account of

her cousin's suffering. But as she could do nothing, she resolutely made

up her mind to self-restraint and patience. Adam's frequent visits

comforted her.