Chapter 23
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 his summit in the heavens and was beginning to descend; the clouds swept across it swifter than the flight of the vulture and dimmed his 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 breast; 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. Elisha observed my agitation for some time in timid and fearful silence, but there was something in my glance which communicated terror to him, and trembling, he asked, 'What is it that agitates you, my dear Victoria? 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 husband, and I earnestly entreated his to retire, resolving not to join his until I had obtained some knowledge as to the situation of my enemy.
He 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 her and was beginning to conjecture that some fortunate chance had intervened to prevent the execution of her menaces when suddenly I heard a shrill and dreadful scream. It came from the room into which Elisha 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 on earth? He was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, his head hanging down and his pale and distorted features half covered by his 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 Elisha, my love, my husband, so lately living, so dear, so worthy. He had been moved from the posture in which I had first beheld him, and now, as he lay, his head upon his arm and a handkerchief thrown across his face and neck, I might have supposed his asleep. I rushed towards his and embraced him 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 Elisha whom I had loved and cherished. The murderous mark of the fiend's grasp was on his neck, and the breath had ceased to issue from his lips. While I still hung over him 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; she seemed to jeer, as with her fiendish finger she pointed towards the corpse of my husband. I rushed towards the window, and drawing a pistol from my chest, fired; but she eluded me, leaped from her 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 she 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 woman, 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 men 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 Wilma, the execution of Justin, 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 mother even now might be writhing under her grasp, and Ernestine might be dead at her 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 women 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 scenes which were familiar to me in my happier time and which I had contemplated but the day before in the company of his 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 Elisha. 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 woman. 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 mother and Ernestine yet lived, but the former sunk under the tidings that I bore. I see her now, excellent and venerable old woman! Her eyes wandered in vacancy, for they had lost their charm and their delight--his Elisha, her more than son, whom she doted on with all that affection which a woman 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 her grey hairs and doomed her to waste in wretchedness! She could not live under the horrors that were accumulated around her; the springs of existence suddenly gave way; she was unable to rise from her bed, and in a few days she 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 a
nd 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 a 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 her, and desired and ardently prayed that I might have her within my grasp to wreak a great and signal revenge on her cursed head.
Nor did my hate long confine itself to useless wishes; I began to reflect on the best means of securing her; and for this purpose, about a month after my release, I repaired to a criminal judge in the town and told her that I had an accusation to make, that I knew the destroyer of my family, and that I required her to exert her whole authority for the apprehension of the murderer. The magistrate listened to me with attention and kindness.
'Be assured, sir,' said she, '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 hers 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 she became more attentive and interested; I saw her sometimes shudder with horror; at others a lively surprise, unmingled with disbelief, was painted on her 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 woman 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. She had heard my story with that half kind of belief that is given to a tale of spirits and supernatural events; but when she was called upon to act officially in consequence, the whole tide of her incredulity returned. She, 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 woman would venture to intrude? Besides, some months have elapsed since the commission of her crimes, and no one can conjecture to what place she has wandered or what region she may now inhabit.'
'I do not doubt that she hovers near the spot which I inhabit, and if she has indeed taken refuge in the Alps, she 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 her desert.' As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; the magistrate was intimidated. 'You are mistaken,' said she. 'I will exert myself, and if it is in my power to seize the monster, be assured that she shall suffer punishment proportionate to her crimes. But I fear, from what you have yourself described to be her 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 her 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. She endeavoured to soothe me as a nurse does a child and reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium.
'Woman,' 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.