It was simply a magnesium light, which had been fired by the mechanism within the box and carried up to the kite.

Edgar was in a state of tumultuous excitement, shouting and yelling at the top of his voice and dancing about 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 all idea of marriage with Edgar Caswall, gloating fiendishly over the thought of revenge.
She must lure him to the White Worm's hole--but how?
She glanced around and quickly made up her mind.

The man's whole thoughts were absorbed by his wonderful kite, which he was showing off, in order to fascinate her imaginary rival, Mimi.
On the instant she glided through the darkness to the wheel whereon the string of the kite was wound.

With deft fingers she unshipped this, took it with her, reeling out the wire as she went, thus keeping, in a way, in touch with the kite.

Then she glided swiftly to the wicket, through which she passed, locking the gate behind her as she went.
Down the turret stair she ran quickly, letting the wire run from the wheel which she carried carefully, and, passing out of the hall door, hurried down the avenue with all her speed.