Edgar, after he had turned his eyes on Mimi, resumed his apathetic
position and sullen silence. Mimi quietly took a seat a little way
apart, whence she could look on the progress of the coming storm and
study its appearance throughout the whole visible circle of the
neighbourhood. She was in brighter and better spirits than she had been
for many days past. Lady Arabella tried to efface herself behind the now
open door. Without, the clouds grew thicker and blacker as the storm-centre came
closer. As yet the forces, from whose linking the lightning springs,
were held apart, and the silence of nature proclaimed the calm before the
storm. Caswall felt the effect of the gathering electric force. A sort
of wild exultation grew upon him, such as he had sometimes felt just
before the breaking of a tropical storm. As he became conscious of this,
he raised his head and caught sight of Mimi. He was in the grip of an
emotion greater than himself; in the mood in which he was he felt the
need upon him of doing some desperate deed. He was now absolutely
reckless, and as Mimi was associated with him in the memory which drove
him on, he wished that she too should be engaged in this enterprise. He
had no knowledge of the proximity of Lady Arabella, and thought that he
was far removed from all he knew and whose interests he shared--alone
with the wild elements, which were being lashed to fury, and with the
woman who had struggled with him and vanquished him, and on whom he would
shower the full measure of his hate. The fact was that Edgar Caswall was, if not mad, close to the
border-line. Madness in its first stage--monomania--is a lack of
proportion. So long as this is general, it is not always noticeable, for
the uninspired onlooker is without the necessary means of comparison. But
in monomania the errant faculty protrudes itself in a way that may not be
denied. It puts aside, obscures, or takes the place of something
else--just as the head of a pin placed before the centre of the iris will
block out the whole scope of vision. The most usual form of monomania
has commonly the same beginning as that from which Edgar Caswall
suffered--an over-large idea of self-importance. Alienists, who study
the matter exactly, probably know more of human vanity and its effects
than do ordinary men. Caswall's mental disturbance was not hard to
identify. Every asylum is full of such cases--men and women, who,
naturally selfish and egotistical, so appraise to themselves their own
importance that every other circumstance in life becomes subservient to
it. The disease supplies in itself the material for self-magnification. When the decadence attacks a nature naturally proud and selfish and vain,
and lacking both the aptitude and habit of self-restraint, the
development of the disease is more swift, and ranges to farther limits. It is such persons who become imbued with the idea that they have the
attributes of the Almighty--even that they themselves are the Almighty. Mimi had a suspicion--or rather, perhaps, an intuition--of the true state
of things when she heard him speak, and at the same time noticed the
abnormal flush on his face, and his rolling eyes. There was a certain
want of fixedness of purpose which she had certainly not noticed before--a
quick, spasmodic utterance which belongs rather to the insane than to
those of intellectual equilibrium. She was a little frightened, not only
by his thoughts, but by his staccato way of expressing them. Caswall moved to the door leading to the turret stair by which the roof
was reached, and spoke in a peremptory way, whose tone alone made her
feel defiant. "Come! I want you." She instinctively drew back--she was not accustomed to such words, more
especially to such a tone. Her answer was indicative of a new contest. "Why should I go? What for?" He did not at once reply--another indication of his overwhelming egotism. She repeated her questions; habit reasserted itself, and he spoke without
thinking the words which were in his heart. "I want you, if you will be so good, to come with me to the turret roof. I am much interested in certain experiments with the kite, which would
be, if not a pleasure, at least a novel experience to you. You would see
something not easily seen otherwise." "I will come," she answered simply; Edgar moved in the direction of the
stair, she following close behind him. She did not like to be left alone at such a height, in such a place, in
the darkness, with a storm about to break. Of himself she had no fear;
all that had been seemed to have passed away with her two victories over
him in the struggle of wills. Moreover, the more recent
apprehension--that of his madness--had also ceased. In the conversation
of the last few minutes he seemed so rational, so clear, so unaggressive,
that she no longer saw reason for doubt. So satisfied was she that even
when he put out a hand to guide her to the steep, narrow stairway, she
took it without thought in the most conventional way. Lady Arabella, crouching in the lobby behind the door, heard every word
that had been said, and formed her own opinion of it. It seemed evident
to her that there had been some rapprochement between the two who had so
lately been hostile to each other, and that made her furiously angry. Mimi was interfering with her plans! She had made certain of her capture
of Edgar Caswall, and she could not tolerate even the lightest and most
contemptuous fancy on his part which might divert him from the main
issue. When she became aware that he wished Mimi to come with him to the
roof and that she had acquiesced, her rage got beyond bounds. She became
oblivious to any danger there might be in a visit to such an exposed
place at such a time, and to all lesser considerations, and made up her
mind to forestall them. She stealthily and noiselessly crept through the
wicket, and, ascending the stair, stepped out on the roof. It was
bitterly cold, for the fierce gusts of the storm which swept round the
turret drove in through every unimpeded way, whistling at the sharp
corners and singing round the trembling flagstaff. The kite-string and
the wire which controlled the runners made a concourse of weird sounds
which somehow, perhaps from the violence which surrounded them, acting on
their length, resolved themselves into some kind of harmony--a fitting
accompaniment to the tragedy which seemed about to begin. Mimi's heart beat heavily. Just before leaving the turret-chamber she
had a shock which she could not shake off. The lights of the room had
momentarily revealed to her, as they passed out, Edgar's face,
concentrated as it was whenever he intended to use his mesmeric power. Now the black eyebrows made a thick line across his face, under which his
eyes shone and glittered ominously. Mimi recognised the danger, and
assumed the defiant attitude that had twice already served her so well. She had a fear that the circumstances and the place were against her, and
she wanted to be forearmed.