ich 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 fo
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