She was, however, unable to do
any good, and so, holding hands, they passed out together. As they did
so, the strange music which had so alarmed Lady Arabella suddenly
stopped. Instinctively they all looked towards the tower of Castra
Regis, and saw that the workmen had refixed the kite, which had risen
again and was beginning to float out to its former station. As they were looking, the door opened and Michael Watford came into the
room. By that time all had recovered their self-possession, and there
was nothing out of the common to attract his attention. As he came in,
seeing inquiring looks all around him, he said:

"The new influx of birds is only the annual migration of pigeons from
Africa. I am told that it will soon be over." The second victory of Mimi Watford made Edgar Caswall more moody than
ever. He felt thrown back on himself, and this, added to his absorbing
interest in the hope of a victory of his mesmeric powers, became a deep
and settled purpose of revenge. The chief object of his animosity was,
of course, Mimi, whose will had overcome his, but it was obscured in
greater or lesser degree by all who had opposed him. Lilla was next to
Mimi in his hate--Lilla, the harmless, tender-hearted, sweet-natured
girl, whose heart was so full of love for all things that in it was no
room for the passions of ordinary life--whose nature resembled those
doves of St. Columba, whose colour she wore, whose appearance she
reflected. Adam Salton came next--after a gap; for against him Caswall
had no direct animosity. He regarded him as an interference, a
difficulty to be got rid of or destroyed. The young Australian had been
so discreet that the most he had against him was his knowledge of what
had been. Caswall did not understand him, and to such a nature as his,
ignorance was a cause of alarm, of dread. Caswall resumed his habit of watching the great kite straining at its
cord, varying his vigils in this way by a further examination of the
mysterious treasures of his house, especially Mesmer's chest. He sat
much on the roof of the tower, brooding over his thwarted passion. The
vast extent of his possessions, visible to him at that altitude, might,
one would have thought, have restored some of his complacency. But the
very extent of his ownership, thus perpetually brought before him,
created a fresh sense of grievance. How was it, he thought, that with so
much at command that others wished for, he could not achieve the dearest
wishes of his heart? In this state of intellectual and moral depravity, he found a solace in
the renewal of his experiments with the mechanical powers of the kite. For a couple of weeks he did not see Lady Arabella, who was always on the
watch for a chance of meeting him; neither did he see the Watford girls,
who studiously kept out of his way. Adam Salton simply marked time,
keeping ready to deal with anything that might affect his friends. He
called at the farm and heard from Mimi of the last battle of wills, but
it had only one consequence. He got from Ross several more mongooses,
including a second king-cobra-killer, which he generally carried with him
in its box whenever he walked out. Mr. Caswall's experiments with the kite went on successfully. Each day
he tried the lifting of greater weight, and it seemed almost as if the
machine had a sentience of its own, which was increasing with the
obstacles placed before it. All this time the kite hung in the sky at an
enormous height. The wind was steadily from the north, so the trend of
the kite was to the south. All day long, runners of increasing magnitude
were sent up. These were only of paper or thin cardboard, or leather, or
other flexible materials. The great height at which the kite hung made a
great concave curve in the string, so that as the runners went up they
made a flapping sound. If one laid a finger on the string, the sound
answered to the flapping of the runner in a sort of hollow intermittent
murmur. Edgar Caswall, who was now wholly obsessed by the kite and all
belonging to it, found a distinct resemblance between that intermittent
rumble and the snake-charming music produced by the pigeons flying
through the dry reeds. One day he made a discovery in Mesmer's chest which he thought he would
utilise with regard to the runners. This was a great length of wire,
"fine as human hair," coiled round a finely made wheel, which ran to a
wondrous distance freely, and as lightly. He tried this on runners, and
found it work admirably. Whether the runner was alone, or carried
something much more weighty than itself, it worked equally well. Also it
was strong enough and light enough to draw back the runner without undue
strain. He tried this a good many times successfully, but it was now
growing dusk and he found some difficulty in keeping the runner in sight. So he looked for something heavy enough to keep it still. He placed the
Egyptian image of Bes on the fine wire, which crossed the wooden ledge
which protected it. Then, the darkness growing, he went indoors and
forgot all about it. He had a strange feeling of uneasiness that night--not sleeplessness, for
he seemed conscious of being asleep. At daylight he rose, and as usual
looked out for the kite. He did not see it in its usual position in the
sky, so looked round the points of the compass. He was more than
astonished when presently he saw the missing kite struggling as usual
against the controlling cord. But it had gone to the further side of the
tower, and now hung and strained _against the wind_ to the north. He
thought it so strange that he determined to investigate the phenomenon,
and to say nothing about it in the meantime. In his many travels, Edgar Caswall had been accustomed to use the
sextant, and was now an expert in the matter. By the aid of this and
other instruments, he was able to fix the position of the kite and the
point over which it hung. He was startled to find that exactly under
it--so far as he could ascertain--was Diana's Grove. He had an
inclination to take Lady Arabella into his confidence in the matter, but
he thought better of it and wisely refrained. For some reason which he
did not try to explain to himself, he was glad of his silence, when, on
the following morning, he found, on looking out, that the point over
which the kite then hovered was Mercy Farm. When he had verified this
with his instruments, he sat before the window of the tower, looking out
and thinking. The new locality was more to his liking than the other;
but the why of it puzzled him, all the same. He spent the rest of the
day in the turret-room, which he did not leave all day. It seemed to him
that he was now drawn by forces which he could not control--of which,
indeed, he had no knowledge--in directions which he did not understand,
and which were without his own volition. In sheer helpless inability to
think the problem out satisfactorily, he called up a servant and told him
to tell Oolanga that he wanted to see him at once in the turret-room.