CHAPTER XII--THE CHEST OPENED
Left alone in the turret-room, Edgar Caswall carefully locked the doorand hung a handkerchief over the keyhole. Next, he inspected thewindows, and saw that they were not overlooked from any angle of the mainbuilding. Then he carefully examined the trunk, going over it with amagnifying glass. He found it intact: the steel bands were flawless; thewhole trunk was compact. After sitting opposite to it for some time, andthe shades of evening beginning to melt into darkness, he gave up thetask and went to his bedroom, after locking the door of the turret-roombehind him and taking away the key.
He woke in the morning at daylight, and resumed his patient butunavailing study of the metal trunk. This he continued during the wholeday with the same result--humiliating disappointment, which overwroughthis nerves and made his head ache. The result of the long strain wasseen later in the afternoon, when he sat locked within the turret-roombefore the still baffling trunk, distrait, listless and yet agitated,sunk in a settled gloom. As the dusk was falling he told the steward tosend him two men, strong ones. These he ordered to take the trunk to hisbedroom. In that room he then sat on into the night, without pausingeven to take any food. His mind was in a whirl, a fever of excitement.The result was that when, late in the night, he locked himself in hisroom his brain was full of odd fancies; he was on the high road to mentaldisturbance. He lay down on his bed in the dark, still brooding over themystery of the closed trunk.
Gradually he yielded to the influences of silence and darkness. Afterlying there quietly for some time, his mind became active again. Butthis time there were round him no disturbing influences; his brain wasactive and able to work freely and to deal with memory. A thousandforgotten--or only half-known--incidents, fragments of conversations ortheories long ago guessed at and long forgotten, crowded on his mind. Heseemed to hear again around him the legions of whirring wings to which hehad been so lately accustomed. Even to himself he knew that that was aneffort of imagination founded on imperfect memory. But he was contentthat imagination should work, for out of it might come some solution ofthe mystery which surrounded him. And in this frame of mind, sleep madeanother and more successful essay. This time he enjoyed peacefulslumber, restful alike to his wearied body and his overwrought brain.
In his sleep he arose, and, as if in obedience to some influence beyondand greater than himself, lifted the great trunk and set it on a strongtable at one side of the room, from which he had previously removed aquantity of books. To do this, he had to use an amount of strength whichwas, he knew, far beyond him in his normal state. As it was, it seemedeasy enough; everything yielded before his touch. Then he becameconscious that somehow--how, he never could remember--the chest was open.He unlocked his door, and, taking the chest on his shoulder, carried itup to the turret-room, the door of which also he unlocked. Even at thetime he was amazed at his own strength, and wondered whence it had come.His mind, lost in conjecture, was too far off to realise more immediatethings. He knew that the chest was enormously heavy. He seemed, in asort of vision which lit up the absolute blackness around, to see the twosturdy servant men staggering under its great weight. He locked himselfagain in the turret-room, and laid the opened chest on a table, and inthe darkness began to unpack it, laying out the contents, which weremainly of metal and glass--great pieces in strange forms--on anothertable. He was conscious of being still asleep, and of acting rather inobedience to some unseen and unknown command than in accordance with anyreasonable plan, to be followed by results which he understood. Thisphase completed, he proceeded to arrange in order the component parts ofsome large instruments, formed mostly of glass. His fingers seemed tohave acquired a new and exquisite subtlety and even a volition of theirown. Then weariness of brain came upon him; his head sank down on hisbreast, and little by little everything became wrapped in gloom.
He awoke in the early morning in his bedroom, and looked around him, nowclear-headed, in amazement. In its usual place on the strong table stoodthe 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 asit had been on the previous evening. He looked out of the window wherehigh in air flew, as usual, the giant kite. He unlocked the wicket gateof the turret stair and went out on the roof. Close to him was the greatcoil of cord on its reel. It was humming in the morning breeze, and whenhe touched the string it sent a quick thrill through hand and arm. Therewas no sign anywhere that there had been any disturbance or displacementof anything during the night.
Utterly bewildered, he sat down in his room to think. Now for the firsttime he _felt_ that he was asleep and dreaming. Presently he fell asleepagain, and slept for a long time. He awoke hungry and made a heartymeal. Then towards evening, having locked himself in, he fell asleepagain. When he woke he was in darkness, and was quite at sea as to hiswhereabouts. He began feeling about the dark room, and was recalled tothe consequences of his position by the breaking of a large piece ofglass. 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 havetaken from the chest, which was now opened. He had once again opened itwhilst asleep, but he had no recollection of the circumstances.
Caswall came to the conclusion that there had been some sort of dualaction of his mind, which might lead to some catastrophe or somediscovery of his secret plans; so he resolved to forgo for a while thepleasure of making discoveries regarding the chest. To this end, heapplied himself to quite another matter--an investigation of the othertreasures and rare objects in his collections. He went amongst them insimple, idle curiosity, his main object being to discover some strangeitem which he might use for experiment with the kite. He had alreadyresolved to try some runners other than those made of paper. He had avague idea that with such a force as the great kite straining at itsleash, this might be used to lift to the altitude of the kite itselfheavier articles. His first experiment with articles of little butincreasing weight was eminently successful. So he added by degrees moreand more weight, until he found out that the lifting power of the kitewas considerable. He then determined to take a step further, and send tothe kite some of the articles which lay in the steel-hooped chest. Thelast time he had opened it in sleep, it had not been shut again, and hehad inserted a wedge so that he could open it at will. He madeexamination of the contents, but came to the conclusion that the glassobjects were unsuitable. They were too light for testing weight, andthey 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 wasa small copy of one of the ancient Egyptian gods--that of Bes, whorepresented the destructive power of nature. It was so bizarre andmysterious as to commend itself to his mad humour. In lifting it fromthe 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, andcame to the conclusion that it was carved from a lump of lodestone. Heremembered that he had read somewhere of an ancient Egyptian god cut froma similar substance, and, thinking it over, he came to the conclusionthat he must have read it in Sir Thomas Brown's _Popular Errors_, a bookof the seventeenth century. He got the book from the library, and lookedout 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 theMummies; which still retains its attraction, though probably taken out ofthe mine about two thousand years ago."
The strangeness of the figure, and its being so close akin to his ownnature, 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 flyingkite along the throbbing cord.