It was eight o'clock when we landed; we
walked for a short time on the shore enjoying the transitory light,
and then retired to the inn and contemplated the lovely scene of
waters, woods, and mountains, obscured in darkness, yet still
displaying their black outlines.
The wind, which had fallen
in the south, now rose with great violence in the west. The moon had
reached her summit in the heavens and was beginning to descend; the
clouds swept across it swifter than the flight of the vulture and
dimmed her rays, while the lake reflected the scene of the busy
heavens, rendered still busier by the restless waves that were
beginning to rise. Suddenly a heavy storm of rain descended.
I had been calm during the day; but so soon as night
obscured the shapes of objects, a thousand fears arose in my mind. I
was anxious and watchful, while my right hand grasped a pistol which
was hidden in my bosom; every sound terrified me; but I resolved
that I would sell my life dearly, and not shrink from the conflict
until my own life, or that of my adversary, was extinguished.
Elizabeth observed my agitation for some time in timid and
fearful silence; but there was something in my glance which
communicated terror to her, and trembling she asked, "What is it
that agitates you, my dear Victor? What is it you fear?"
"Oh! peace, peace, my love," replied I; "this night and all
will be safe: but this night is dreadful, very dreadful."
I
passed an hour in this state of mind, when suddenly I reflected how
fearful the combat which I momentarily expected would be to my wife,
and I earnestly entreated her to retire, resolving not to join her
until I had obtained some knowledge as to the situation of my enemy.
She left me, and I continued some time walking up and down
the passages of the house, and inspecting every corner that might
afford a retreat to my adversary. But I discovered no trace of him,
and was beginning to conjecture that some fortunate chance had
intervened to prevent the execution of his menaces, when suddenly I
heard a shrill and dreadful scream. It came from the room into which
Elizabeth had retired. As I heard it, the whole truth rushed into my
mind, my arms dropped, the motion of every muscle and fibre was
suspended; I could feel the blood trickling in my veins and tingling
in the extremities of my limbs. This state lasted but for an
instant; the scream was repeated, and I rushed into the room.
Great God! why did I not then expire! Why am I here to
relate the destruction of the best hope and the purest creature of
earth? She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed,
her head hanging down, and her pale and distorted features half
covered by her hair. Everywhere I turn I see the same figure--her
bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its bridal
bier. Could I behold this and live? Alas! life is obstinate and
clings closest where it is most hated. For a moment only did I lose
recollection; I fell senseless on the ground.
When I
recovered, I found myself surrounded by the people of the inn; their
countenances expressed a breathless terror: but the horror of others
appeared only as a mockery, a shadow of the feelings that oppressed
me. I escaped from them to the room where lay the body of Elizabeth,
my love, my wife, so lately living, so dear, so worthy. She had been
moved from the posture in which I had first beheld her; and now, as
she lay, her head upon her arm, and a handkerchief thrown across her
face and neck, I might have supposed her asleep. I rushed towards
her, and embraced her with ardour; but the deadly languor and
coldness of the limbs told me that what I now held in my arms had
ceased to be the Elizabeth whom I had loved and cherished. The
murderous mark of the fiend's grasp was on her neck, and the breath
had ceased to issue from her lips.
While I still hung over
her in the agony of despair, I happened to look up. The windows of
the room had before been darkened, and I felt a kind of panic on
seeing the pale yellow light of the moon illuminate the chamber. The
shutters had been thrown back; and, with a sensation of horror not
to be described, I saw at the open window a figure the most hideous
and abhorred. A grin was on the face of the monster; he seemed to
jeer as with his fiendish finger he pointed towards the corpse of my
wife. I rushed towards the window and, drawing a pistol from my
bosom, fired; but he eluded me, leaped from his station, and,
running with the swiftness of lightning, plunged into the lake.
The report of the pistol brought a crowd into the room. I
pointed to the spot where he had disappeared, and we followed the
track with boats; nets were cast, but in vain. After passing several
hours, we returned hopeless, most of my companions believing it to
have been a form conjured up by my fancy. After having landed, they
proceeded to search the country, parties going in different
directions among the woods and vines.
I attempted to
accompany them, and proceeded a short distance from the house; but
my head whirled round, my steps were like those of a drunken man, I
fell at last in a state of utter exhaustion; a film covered my eyes,
and my skin was parched with the heat of fever. In this state I was
carried back and placed on a bed, hardly conscious of what had
happened; my eyes wandered round the room as if to seek something
that I had lost.
After an interval I arose and, as if by
instinct, crawled into the room where the corpse of my beloved lay.
There were women weeping around--I hung over it, and joined my sad
tears to theirs--all this time no distinct idea presented itself to
my mind; but my thoughts rambled to various subjects, reflecting
confusedly on my misfortunes and their cause. I was bewildered in a
cloud of wonder and horror. The death of William, the execution of
Justine, the murder of Clerval, and lastly of my wife; even at that
moment I knew not that my only remaining friends were safe from the
malignity of the fiend; my father even now might be writhing under
his grasp, and Ernest might be dead at his feet. This idea made me
shudder and recalled me to action. I started up and resolved to
return to Geneva with all possible speed.
There were no
horses to be procured, and I must return by the lake; but the wind
was unfavourable and the rain fell in torrents. However, it was
hardly morning, and I might reasonably hope to arrive by night. I
hired men to row, and took an oar myself; for I had always
experienced relief from mental torment in bodily exercise. But the
overflowing misery I now felt, and the excess of agitation that I
endured, rendered me incapable of any exertion. I threw down the
oar, and leaning my head upon my hands gave way to every gloomy idea
that arose. If I looked up, I saw the scenes which were familiar to
me in my happier time, and which I had contemplated but the day
before in the company of her who was now but a shadow and a
recollection. Tears streamed from my eyes. The rain had ceased for a
moment, and I saw the fish play in the waters as they had done a few
hours before; they had then been observed by Elizabeth. Nothing is
so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change. The sun
might shine or the clouds might lower: but nothing could appear to
me as it had done the day before. A fiend had snatched from me every
hope of future happiness: no creature had ever been so miserable as
I was; so frightful an event is single in the history of man.
But why should I dwell upon the incidents that followed this
last overwhelming event? Mine has been a tale of horrors; I have
reached their acme, and what I must now relate can but be tedious to
you. Know that, one by one, my friends were snatched away; I was
left desolate. My own strength is exhausted; and I must tell, in a
few words, what remains of my hideous narration.
I arrived
at Geneva. My father and Ernest yet lived; but the former sunk under
the tidings that I bore. I see him now, excellent and venerable old
man! his eyes wandered in vacancy, for they had lost their charm and
their delight--his Elizabeth, his more than daughter, whom he doated
on with all that affection which a man feels, who in the decline of
life, having few affections, clings more earnestly to those that
remain. Cursed, cursed be the fiend that brought misery on his grey
hairs, and doomed him to waste in wretchedness! He could not live
under the horrors that were accumulated around him; the springs of
existence suddenly gave way: he was unable to rise from his bed, and
in a few days he died in my arms.
What then became of me? I
know not. I lost sensation, and chains and darkness were the only
objects that pressed upon me. Sometimes, indeed, I dreamt that I
wandered in flowery meadows and pleasant vales with the friends of
my youth; but I awoke, and found myself in a dungeon. Melancholy
followed, but by degrees I gained a clear conception of my miseries
and situation, and was then released from my prison. For they had
called me mad; and during many months, as I understood, a solitary
cell had been my habitation.
Liberty, however, had been an
useless gift to me had I not, as I awakened to reason, at the same
time awakened to revenge. As the memory of past misfortunes pressed
upon me, I began to reflect on their cause--the monster whom I had
created, the miserable daemon whom I had sent abroad into the world
for my destruction. I was possessed by a maddening rage when I
thought of him, and desired and ardently prayed that I might have
him within my grasp to wreak a great and signal revenge on his
cursed head.
Nor did my hate long confine itself to useless
wishes; I began to reflect on the best means of securing him; and
for this purpose, about a month after my release, I repaired to a
criminal judge in the town, and told him that I had an accusation to
make; that I knew the destroyer of my family; and that I required
him to exert his whole authority for the apprehension of the
murderer.
The magistrate listened to me with attention and
kindness:-- "Be assured, sir," said he, "no pains or exertions on my
part shall be spared to discover the villain."
"I thank
you," replied I; "listen, therefore, to the deposition that I have
to make. It is indeed a tale so strange that I should fear you would
not credit it were there not something in truth which, however
wonderful, forces conviction. The story is too connected to be
mistaken for a dream, and I have no motive for falsehood." My
manner, as I thus addressed him, was impressive but calm; I had
formed in my own heart a resolution to pursue my destroyer to death;
and this purpose quieted my agony, and for an interval reconciled me
to life. I now related my history, briefly, but with firmness and
precision, marking the dates with accuracy, and never deviating into
invective or exclamation.
The magistrate appeared at first
perfectly incredulous, but as I continued he became more attentive
and interested; I saw him sometimes shudder with horror, at others a
lively surprise, unmingled with disbelief, was painted on his
countenance.
When I had concluded my narration, I said,
"This is the being whom I accuse, and for whose seizure and
punishment I call upon you to exert your whole power. It is your
duty as a magistrate, and I believe and hope that your feelings as a
man will not revolt from the execution of those functions on this
occasion.
This address caused a considerable change in the
physiognomy of my own auditor. He had heard my story with that half
kind of belief that is given to a tale of spirits and supernatural
events; but when he was called upon to act officially in
consequence, the whole tide of his incredulity returned. He,
however, answered mildly, "I would willingly afford you every aid in
your pursuit; but the creature of whom you speak appears to have
powers which would put all my exertions to defiance. Who can follow
an animal which can traverse the sea of ice, and inhabit caves and
dens where no man would venture to intrude? Besides, some months
have elapsed since the commission of his crimes, and no one can
conjecture to what place he has wandered, or what region he may now
inhabit."
"I do not doubt that he hovers near the spot which
I inhabit; and if he has indeed taken refuge in the Alps, he may be
hunted like the chamois, and destroyed as a beast of prey. But I
perceive your thoughts: you do not credit my narrative, and do not
intend to pursue my enemy with the punishment which is his desert."
As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; the magistrate was
intimidated:--"You are mistaken," said he, "I will exert myself; and
if it is in my power to seize the monster, be assured that he shall
suffer punishment proportionate to his crimes. But I fear, from what
you have yourself described to be his properties, that this will
prove impracticable; and thus, while every proper measure is
pursued, you should make up your mind to disappointment."
"That cannot be; but all that I can say will be of little
avail. My revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to
be a vice, I confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my
soul. My rage is unspeakable when I reflect that the murderer, whom
I have turned loose upon society, still exists. You refuse my just
demand: I have but one resource; and I devote myself, either in my
life or death, to his destruction."
I trembled with
excess of agitation as I said this; there was a frenzy in my manner
and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness which the
martyrs of old are said to have possessed. But to a Genevan
magistrate, whose mind was occupied by far other ideas than those of
devotion and heroism, this elevation of mind had much the appearance
of madness. He endeavoured to soothe me as a nurse does a child, and
reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium.
"Man," I
cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; you
know not what it is you say."
I broke from the house angry
and disturbed, and retired to meditate on some other mode of
action. |
