Chapter XXVII: On the Turret Roof

by Bram Stoker

　　The storm which was coming was already making itself manifest, notonly in the wide scope of nature, but in the hearts and natures ofhuman beings. Electrical disturbance in the sky and the air isreproduced in animals of all kinds, and particularly in the highesttype of them all--the most receptive--the most electrical. So itwas with Edgar Caswall, despite his selfish nature and coldness ofblood. So it was with Mimi Salton, despite her unselfish,unchanging devotion for those she loved. So it was even with LadyArabella, who, under the instincts of a primeval serpent, carriedthe ever-varying wishes and customs of womanhood, which is alwaysold--and always new.Edgar, after he had turned his eyes on Mimi, resumed his apatheticposition and sullen silence. Mimi quietly took a seat a little wayapart, whence she could look on the progress of the coming storm andstudy its appearance throughout the whole visible circle of theneighbourhood. She was in brighter and better spirits than she hadbeen for many days past. Lady Arabella tried to efface herselfbehind the now open door.Without, the clouds grew thicker and blacker as the storm-centrecame closer. As yet the forces, from whose linking the lightningsprings, were held apart, and the silence of nature proclaimed thecalm before the storm. Caswall felt the effect of the gatheringelectric force. A sort of wild exultation grew upon him, such as hehad sometimes felt just before the breaking of a tropical storm. Ashe became conscious of this, he raised his head and caught sight ofMimi. He was in the grip of an emotion greater than himself; in themood in which he was he felt the need upon him of doing somedesperate deed. He was now absolutely reckless, and as Mimi wasassociated with him in the memory which drove him on, he wished thatshe too should be engaged in this enterprise. He had no knowledgeof the proximity of Lady Arabella, and thought that he was farremoved from all he knew and whose interests he shared--alone withthe wild elements, which were being lashed to fury, and with thewoman who had struggled with him and vanquished him, and on whom hewould shower the full measure of his hate.The fact was that Edgar Caswall was, if not mad, close to theborder-line. Madness in its first stage--monomania--is a lack ofproportion. So long as this is general, it is not alwaysnoticeable, for the uninspired onlooker is without the necessarymeans of comparison. But in monomania the errant faculty protrudesitself in a way that may not be denied. It puts aside, obscures, ortakes the place of something else--just as the head of a pin placedbefore the centre of the iris will block out the whole scope ofvision. The most usual form of monomania has commonly the samebeginning as that from which Edgar Caswall suffered--an over-largeidea of self-importance. Alienists, who study the matter exactly,probably know more of human vanity and its effects than do ordinarymen. Caswall's mental disturbance was not hard to identify. Everyasylum is full of such cases--men and women, who, naturally selfishand egotistical, so appraise to themselves their own importance thatevery other circumstance in life becomes subservient to it. Thedisease supplies in itself the material for self-magnification.When the decadence attacks a nature naturally proud and selfish andvain, and lacking both the aptitude and habit of self-restraint, thedevelopment of the disease is more swift, and ranges to fartherlimits. It is such persons who become inbued with the idea thatthey have the attributes of the Almighty--even that they themselvesare the Almighty.Mimi had a suspicion--or rather, perhaps, an intuition--of the truestate of things when she heard him speak, and at the same timenoticed the abnormal flush on his face, and his rolling eyes. Therewas a certain want of fixedness of purpose which she had certainlynot noticed before--a quick, spasmodic utterance which belongsrather to the insane than to those of intellectual equilibrium. Shewas a little frightened, not only by his thoughts, but by hisstaccato way of expressing them.Caswall moved to the door leading to the turret stair by which theroof was reached, and spoke in a peremptory way, whose tone alonemade 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 newcontest."Why should I go? What for?"He did not at once reply--another indication of his overwhelmingegotism. She repeated her questions; habit reasserted itself, andhe 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 turretroof. I am much interested in certain experiments with the kite,which would be, if not a pleasure, at least a novel experience toyou. You would see something not easily seen otherwise.""I will come," she answered simply; Edgar moved in the direction ofthe 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 nofear; all that had been seemed to have passed away with her twovictories over him in the struggle of wills. Moreover, the morerecent apprehension--that of his madness--had also ceased. In theconversation of the last few minutes he seemed so rational, soclear, so unaggressive, that she no longer saw reason for doubt. Sosatisfied was she that even when he put out a hand to guide her tothe steep, narrow stairway, she took it without thought in the mostconventional way.Lady Arabella, crouching in the lobby behind the door, heard everyword that had been said, and formed her own opinion of it. Itseemed evident to her that there had been some rapprochement betweenthe two who had so lately been hostile to each other, and that madeher furiously angry. Mimi was interfering with her plans! She hadmade certain of her capture of Edgar Caswall, and she could nottolerate even the lightest and most contemptuous fancy on his partwhich might divert him from the main issue. When she became awarethat he wished Mimi to come with him to the roof and that she hadacquiesced, her rage got beyond bounds. She became oblivious to anydanger there might be in a visit to such an exposed place at such atime, and to all lesser considerations, and made up her mind toforestall them. She stealthily and noiselessly crept through thewicket, and, ascending the stair, stepped out on the roof. It wasbitterly cold, for the fierce gusts of the storm which swept roundthe turret drove in through every unimpeded way, whistling at thesharp corners and singing round the trembling flagstaff. The kite-string and the wire which controlled the runners made a concourse ofweird sounds which somehow, perhaps from the violence whichsurrounded them, acting on their length, resolved themselves intosome kind of harmony--a fitting accompaniment to the tragedy whichseemed about to begin.Mimi's heart beat heavily. Just before leaving the turret-chambershe had a shock which she could not shake off. The lights of theroom had momentarily revealed to her, as they passed out, Edgar'sface, concentrated as it was whenever he intended to use hismesmeric power. Now the black eyebrows made a thick line across hisface, under which his eyes shone and glittered ominously. Mimirecognised the danger, and assumed the defiant attitude that hadtwice already served her so well. She had a fear that thecircumstances and the place were against her, and she wanted to beforearmed.The sky was now somewhat lighter than it had been. Either there waslightning afar off, whose reflections were carried by the rollingclouds, or else the gathered force, though not yet breaking intolightning, had an incipient power of light. It seemed to affectboth the man and the woman. Edgar seemed altogether under itsinfluence. His spirits were boisterous, his mind exalted. He wasnow at his worst; madder than he had been earlier in the night.Mimi, trying to keep as far from him as possible, moved across thestone floor of the turret roof, and found a niche which concealedher. It was not far from Lady Arabella's place of hiding.Edgar, left thus alone on the centre of the turret roof, foundhimself altogether his own master in a way which tended to increasehis madness. He knew that Mimi was close at hand, though he hadlost sight of her. He spoke loudly, and the sound of his own voice,though it was carried from him on the sweeping wind as fast as thewords were spoken, seemed to exalt him still more. Even the ragingof the elements round him appeared to add to his exaltation. To himit seemed that these manifestations were obedient to his own will.He had reached the sublime of his madness; he was now in his ownmind actually the Almighty, and whatever might happen would be thedirect carrying out of his own commands. As he could not see Mimi,nor fix whereabout she was, he shouted loudly:"Come to me! You shall see now what you are despising, what you arewarring against. All that you see is mine--the darkness as well asthe light. I tell you that I am greater than any other who is, orwas, or shall be. When the Master of Evil took Christ up on a highplace and showed Him all the kingdoms of the earth, he was doingwhat he thought no other could do. He was wrong--he forgot me. Ishall send you light, up to the very ramparts of heaven. A light sogreat that it shall dissipate those black clouds that are rushing upand piling around us. Look! Look! At the very touch of my handthat light springs into being and mounts up--and up--and up!"He made his way whilst he was speaking to the corner of the turretwhence flew the giant kite, and from which the runners ascended.Mimi looked on, appalled and afraid to speak lest she shouldprecipitate some calamity. Within the niche Lady Arabella coweredin a paroxysm of fear.Edgar took up a small wooden box, through a hole in which the wireof the runner ran. This evidently set some machinery in motion, fora sound as of whirring came. From one side of the box floated whatlooked like a piece of stiff ribbon, which snapped and crackled asthe wind took it. For a few seconds Mimi saw it as it rushed alongthe sagging line to the kite. When close to it, there was a loudcrack, and a sudden light appeared to issue from every chink in thebox. Then a quick flame flashed along the snapping ribbon, whichglowed with an intense light--a light so great that the whole of thecountryside around stood out against the background of black drivingclouds. For a few seconds the light remained, then suddenlydisappeared in the blackness around. It was simply a magnesiumlight, which had been fired by the mechanism within the box andcarried up to the kite. Edgar was in a state of tumultuousexcitement, shouting and yelling at the top of his voice and dancingabout like a lunatic.This was more than Lady Arabella's curious dual nature could stand--the ghoulish element in her rose triumphant, and she abandoned allidea of marriage with Edgar Caswall, gloating fiendishly over thethought of revenge.She must lure him to the White Worm's hole--but how? She glancedaround and quickly made up her mind. The man's whole thoughts wereabsorbed by his wonderful kite, which he was showing off, in orderto fascinate her imaginary rival, Mimi.On the instant she glided through the darkness to the wheel whereonthe string of the kite was wound. With deft fingers she unshippedthis, took it with her, reeling out the wire as she went, thuskeeping, in a way, in touch with the kite. Then she glided swiftlyto the wicket, through which she passed, locking the gate behind heras she went.Down the turret stair she ran quickly, letting the wire run from thewheel which she carried carefully, and, passing out of the halldoor, hurried down the avenue with all her speed. She soon reachedher own gate, ran down the avenue, and with her key opened the irondoor leading to the well-hole.She felt well satisfied with herself. All her plans were maturing,or had already matured. The Master of Castra Regis was within hergrasp. The woman whose interference she had feared, Lilla Watford,was dead. Truly, all was well, and she felt that she might pause awhile and rest. She tore off her clothes, with feverish fingers,and in full enjoyment of her natural freedom, stretched her slimfigure in animal delight. Then she lay down on the sofa--to awaither victim! Edgar Caswall's life blood would more than satisfy herfor some time to come.