His fingers seemed to
have acquired a new and exquisite subtlety and even a volition of their
own. Then weariness of brain came upon him; his head sank down on his
breast, and little by little everything became wrapped in gloom. He awoke in the early morning in his bedroom, and looked around him, now
clear-headed, in amazement. In its usual place on the strong table stood
the great steel-hooped chest without lock or key. But it was now locked. He arose quietly and stole to the turret-room. There everything was as
it had been on the previous evening. He looked out of the window where
high in air flew, as usual, the giant kite. He unlocked the wicket gate
of the turret stair and went out on the roof. Close to him was the great
coil of cord on its reel. It was humming in the morning breeze, and when
he touched the string it sent a quick thrill through hand and arm. There
was no sign anywhere that there had been any disturbance or displacement
of anything during the night. Utterly bewildered, he sat down in his room to think. Now for the first
time he _felt_ that he was asleep and dreaming. Presently he fell asleep
again, and slept for a long time. He awoke hungry and made a hearty
meal. Then towards evening, having locked himself in, he fell asleep
again. When he woke he was in darkness, and was quite at sea as to his
whereabouts. He began feeling about the dark room, and was recalled to
the consequences of his position by the breaking of a large piece of
glass. Having obtained a light, he discovered this to be a glass wheel,
part of an elaborate piece of mechanism which he must in his sleep have
taken from the chest, which was now opened. He had once again opened it
whilst asleep, but he had no recollection of the circumstances. Caswall came to the conclusion that there had been some sort of dual
action of his mind, which might lead to some catastrophe or some
discovery of his secret plans; so he resolved to forgo for a while the
pleasure of making discoveries regarding the chest. To this end, he
applied himself to quite another matter--an investigation of the other
treasures and rare objects in his collections. He went amongst them in
simple, idle curiosity, his main object being to discover some strange
item which he might use for experiment with the kite. He had already
resolved to try some runners other than those made of paper. He had a
vague idea that with such a force as the great kite straining at its
leash, this might be used to lift to the altitude of the kite itself
heavier articles. His first experiment with articles of little but
increasing weight was eminently successful. So he added by degrees more
and more weight, until he found out that the lifting power of the kite
was considerable. He then determined to take a step further, and send to
the kite some of the articles which lay in the steel-hooped chest. The
last time he had opened it in sleep, it had not been shut again, and he
had inserted a wedge so that he could open it at will. He made
examination of the contents, but came to the conclusion that the glass
objects were unsuitable. They were too light for testing weight, and
they were so frail as to be dangerous to send to such a height. So he looked around for something more solid with which to experiment. His eye caught sight of an object which at once attracted him. This was
a small copy of one of the ancient Egyptian gods--that of Bes, who
represented the destructive power of nature. It was so bizarre and
mysterious as to commend itself to his mad humour. In lifting it from
the cabinet, he was struck by its great weight in proportion to its size. He made accurate examination of it by the aid of some instruments, and
came to the conclusion that it was carved from a lump of lodestone. He
remembered that he had read somewhere of an ancient Egyptian god cut from
a similar substance, and, thinking it over, he came to the conclusion
that he must have read it in Sir Thomas Brown's _Popular Errors_, a book
of the seventeenth century. He got the book from the library, and looked
out the passage:

"A great example we have from the observation of our learned friend Mr.
Graves, in an AEgyptian idol cut out of Loadstone and found among the
Mummies; which still retains its attraction, though probably taken out of
the mine about two thousand years ago." The strangeness of the figure, and its being so close akin to his own
nature, attracted him. He made from thin wood a large circular runner,
and in front of it placed the weighty god, sending it up to the flying
kite along the throbbing cord. CHAPTER XIII--OOLANGA'S HALLUCINATIONS


During the last few days Lady Arabella had been getting exceedingly
impatient. Her debts, always pressing, were growing to an embarrassing
amount. The only hope she had of comfort in life was a good marriage;
but the good marriage on which she had fixed her eye did not seem to move
quickly enough--indeed, it did not seem to move at all--in the right
direction. Edgar Caswall was not an ardent wooer. From the very first
he seemed _difficile_, but he had been keeping to his own room ever since
his struggle with Mimi Watford. On that occasion Lady Arabella had shown
him in an unmistakable way what her feelings were; indeed, she had made
it known to him, in a more overt way than pride should allow, that she
wished to help and support him. The moment when she had gone across the
room to stand beside him in his mesmeric struggle, had been the very
limit of her voluntary action. It was quite bitter enough, she felt,
that he did not come to her, but now that she had made that advance, she
felt that any withdrawal on his part would, to a woman of her class, be
nothing less than a flaming insult. Had she not classed herself with his
nigger servant, an unreformed savage? Had she not shown her preference
for him at the festival of his home-coming? Had she not . . . Lady
Arabella was cold-blooded, and she was prepared to go through all that
might be necessary of indifference, and even insult, to become chatelaine
of Castra Regis. In the meantime, she would show no hurry--she must
wait. She might, in an unostentatious way, come to him again. She knew
him now, and could make a keen guess at his desires with regard to Lilla
Watford. With that secret in her possession, she could bring pressure to
bear on Caswall which would make it no easy matter for him to evade her. The great difficulty was how to get near him. He was shut up within his
Castle, and guarded by a defence of convention which she could not pass
without danger of ill repute to herself. Over this question she thought
and thought for days and nights. At last she decided that the only way
would be to go to him openly at Castra Regis. Her rank and position
would make such a thing possible, if carefully done. She could explain
matters afterwards if necessary. Then when they were alone, she would
use her arts and her experience to make him commit himself.