I was soon introduced into the presence of the magistrate1, an old benevolent2 man with calm and mild manners. He looked upon me, however, with some degree of severity, and then, turning towards my conductors, he asked who appeared as witnesses on this occasion.
About half a dozen men came forward; and, one being selected by the magistrate, he deposed3 that he had been out fishing the night before with his son and brother-in-law, Daniel Nugent, when, about ten o’clock, they observed a strong northerly blast rising, and they accordingly put in for port. It was a very dark night, as the moon had not yet risen; they did not land at the harbour, but, as they had been accustomed, at a creek4 about two miles below. He walked on first, carrying a part of the fishing tackle, and his companions followed him at some distance.
As he was proceeding5 along the sands, he struck his foot against something and fell at his length on the ground. His companions came up to assist him, and by the light of their lantern they found that he had fallen on the body of a man, who was to all appearance dead. Their first supposition was that it was the corpse6 of some person who had been drowned and was thrown on shore by the waves, but on examination they found that the clothes were not wet and even that the body was not then cold. They instantly carried it to the cottage of an old woman near the spot and endeavoured, but in vain, to restore it to life. It appeared to be a handsome young man, about five and twenty years of age. He had apparently7 been strangled, for there was no sign of any violence except the black mark of fingers on his neck.
The first part of this deposition8 did not in the least interest me, but when the mark of the fingers was mentioned I remembered the murder of my brother and felt myself extremely agitated9; my limbs trembled, and a mist came over my eyes, which obliged me to lean on a chair for support. The magistrate observed me with a keen eye and of course drew an unfavourable augury10 from my manner.
The son confirmed his father’s account, but when Daniel Nugent was called he swore positively11 that just before the fall of his companion, he saw a boat, with a single man in it, at a short distance from the shore; and as far as he could judge by the light of a few stars, it was the same boat in which I had just landed. A woman deposed that she lived near the beach and was standing12 at the door of her cottage, waiting for the return of the fishermen, about an hour before she heard of the discovery of the body, when she saw a boat with only one man in it push off from that part of the shore where the corpse was afterwards found.
Another woman confirmed the account of the fishermen having brought the body into her house; it was not cold. They put it into a bed and rubbed it, and Daniel went to the town for an apothecary13, but life was quite gone.
Several other men were examined concerning my landing, and they agreed that, with the strong north wind that had arisen during the night, it was very probable that I had beaten about for many hours and had been obliged to return nearly to the same spot from which I had departed. Besides, they observed that it appeared that I had brought the body from another place, and it was likely that as I did not appear to know the shore, I might have put into the harbour ignorant of the distance of the town of —— from the place where I had deposited the corpse.
Mr. Kirwin, on hearing this evidence, desired that I should be taken into the room where the body lay for interment, that it might be observed what effect the sight of it would produce upon me. This idea was probably suggested by the extreme agitation14 I had exhibited when the mode of the murder had been described. I was accordingly conducted, by the magistrate and several other persons, to the inn. I could not help being struck by the strange coincidences that had taken place during this eventful night; but, knowing that I had been conversing15 with several persons in the island I had inhabited about the time that the body had been found, I was perfectly16 tranquil17 as to the consequences of the affair. I entered the room where the corpse lay and was led up to the coffin18. How can I describe my sensations on beholding19 it? I feel yet parched20 with horror, nor can I reflect on that terrible moment without shuddering21 and agony. The examination, the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed like a dream from my memory when I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched before me. I gasped22 for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed, “Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims await their destiny; but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor23 —”
The human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured, and I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions. A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months on the point of death; my ravings, as I afterwards heard, were frightful24; I called myself the murderer of William, of Justine, and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated25 my attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was tormented26; and at others I felt the fingers of the monster already grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror. Fortunately, as I spoke27 my native language, Mr. Kirwin alone understood me; but my gestures and bitter cries were sufficient to affright the other witnesses. Why did I not die? More miserable28 than man ever was before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches away many blooming children, the only hopes of their doting29 parents; how many brides and youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of health and hope, and the next a prey30 for worms and the decay of the tomb! Of what materials was I made that I could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the torture?
But I was doomed31 to live and in two months found myself as awaking from a dream, in a prison, stretched on a wretched bed, surrounded by jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the miserable apparatus32 of a dungeon33. It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to understanding; I had forgotten the particulars of what had happened and only felt as if some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me; but when I looked around and saw the barred windows and the squalidness of the room in which I was, all flashed across my memory and I groaned34 bitterly.
This sound disturbed an old woman who was sleeping in a chair beside me. She was a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys, and her countenance35 expressed all those bad qualities which often characterize that class. The lines of her face were hard and rude, like that of persons accustomed to see without sympathizing in sights of misery36. Her tone expressed her entire indifference37; she addressed me in English, and the voice struck me as one that I had heard during my sufferings. “Are you better now, sir?” said she.
I replied in the same language, with a feeble voice, “I believe I am; but if it be all true, if indeed I did not dream, I am sorry that I am still alive to feel this misery and horror.”
“For that matter,” replied the old woman, “if you mean about the gentleman you murdered, I believe that it were better for you if you were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you! However, that’s none of my business; I am sent to nurse you and get you well; I do my duty with a safe conscience; it were well if everybody did the same.”
I turned with loathing38 from the woman who could utter so unfeeling a speech to a person just saved, on the very edge of death; but I felt languid and unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole series of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force of reality.
As the images that floated before me became more distinct, I grew feverish39; a darkness pressed around me; no one was near me who soothed40 me with the gentle voice of love; no dear hand supported me. The physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared them for me; but utter carelessness was visible in the first, and the expression of brutality41 was strongly marked in the visage of the second. Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer but the hangman who would gain his fee?
These were my first reflections, but I soon learned that Mr. Kirwin had shown me extreme kindness. He had caused the best room in the prison to be prepared for me (wretched indeed was the best); and it was he who had provided a physician and a nurse. It is true, he seldom came to see me, for although he ardently42 desired to relieve the sufferings of every human creature, he did not wish to be present at the agonies and miserable ravings of a murderer. He came, therefore, sometimes to see that I was not neglected, but his visits were short and with long intervals43. One day, while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in a chair, my eyes half open and my cheeks livid like those in death. I was overcome by gloom and misery and often reflected I had better seek death than desire to remain in a world which to me was replete44 with wretchedness. At one time I considered whether I should not declare myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law, less innocent than poor Justine had been. Such were my thoughts when the door of my apartment was opened and Mr. Kirwin entered. His countenance expressed sympathy and compassion46; he drew a chair close to mine and addressed me in French, “I fear that this place is very shocking to you; can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”
“I thank you, but all that you mention is nothing to me; on the whole earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving.”
“I know that the sympathy of a stranger can be but of little relief to one borne down as you are by so strange a misfortune. But you will, I hope, soon quit this melancholy47 abode48, for doubtless evidence can easily be brought to free you from the criminal charge.”
“That is my least concern; I am, by a course of strange events, become the most miserable of mortals. Persecuted49 and tortured as I am and have been, can death be any evil to me?”
“Nothing indeed could be more unfortunate and agonizing50 than the strange chances that have lately occurred. You were thrown, by some surprising accident, on this shore, renowned51 for its hospitality, seized immediately, and charged with murder. The first sight that was presented to your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in so unaccountable a manner and placed, as it were, by some fiend across your path.”
As Mr. Kirwin said this, notwithstanding the agitation I endured on this retrospect52 of my sufferings, I also felt considerable surprise at the knowledge he seemed to possess concerning me. I suppose some astonishment53 was exhibited in my countenance, for Mr. Kirwin hastened to say, “Immediately upon your being taken ill, all the papers that were on your person were brought me, and I examined them that I might discover some trace by which I could send to your relations an account of your misfortune and illness. I found several letters, and, among others, one which I discovered from its commencement to be from your father. I instantly wrote to Geneva; nearly two months have elapsed since the departure of my letter. But you are ill; even now you tremble; you are unfit for agitation of any kind.”
“This suspense54 is a thousand times worse than the most horrible event; tell me what new scene of death has been acted, and whose murder I am now to lament55?”
“Your family is perfectly well,” said Mr. Kirwin with gentleness; “and someone, a friend, is come to visit you.”
I know not by what chain of thought the idea presented itself, but it instantly darted56 into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my misery and taunt57 me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement58 for me to comply with his hellish desires. I put my hand before my eyes, and cried out in agony, “Oh! Take him away! I cannot see him; for God’s sake, do not let him enter!”
Mr. Kirwin regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help regarding my exclamation59 as a presumption60 of my guilt45 and said in rather a severe tone, “I should have thought, young man, that the presence of your father would have been welcome instead of inspiring such violent repugnance61.”
“My father!” cried I, while every feature and every muscle was relaxed from anguish62 to pleasure. “Is my father indeed come? How kind, how very kind! But where is he, why does he not hasten to me?”
My change of manner surprised and pleased the magistrate; perhaps he thought that my former exclamation was a momentary63 return of delirium64, and now he instantly resumed his former benevolence65. He rose and quitted the room with my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it.
Nothing, at this moment, could have given me greater pleasure than the arrival of my father. I stretched out my hand to him and cried, “Are you, then, safe — and Elizabeth — and Ernest?” My father calmed me with assurances of their welfare and endeavoured, by dwelling66 on these subjects so interesting to my heart, to raise my desponding spirits; but he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode of cheerfulness.
“What a place is this that you inhabit, my son!” said he, looking mournfully at the barred windows and wretched appearance of the room. “You travelled to seek happiness, but a fatality67 seems to pursue you. And poor Clerval —”
The name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an agitation too great to be endured in my weak state; I shed tears. “Alas68! Yes, my father,” replied I; “some destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over me, and I must live to fulfil it, or surely I should have died on the coffin of Henry.”
We were not allowed to converse69 for any length of time, for the precarious70 state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that could ensure tranquillity71. Mr. Kirwin came in and insisted that my strength should not be exhausted72 by too much exertion73. But the appearance of my father was to me like that of my good angel, and I gradually recovered my health.
As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was forever before me, ghastly and murdered. More than once the agitation into which these reflections threw me made my friends dread74 a dangerous relapse. Alas! Why did they preserve so miserable and detested75 a life? It was surely that I might fulfil my destiny, which is now drawing to a close. Soon, oh, very soon, will death extinguish these throbbings and relieve me from the mighty76 weight of anguish that bears me to the dust; and, in executing the award of justice, I shall also sink to rest. Then the appearance of death was distant, although the wish was ever present to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution that might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins.
The season of the assizes approached. I had already been three months in prison, and although I was still weak and in continual danger of a relapse, I was obliged to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country town where the court was held. Mr. Kirwin charged himself with every care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defence. I was spared the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal, as the case was not brought before the court that decides on life and death. The grand jury rejected the bill, on its being proved that I was on the Orkney Islands at the hour the body of my friend was found; and a fortnight after my removal I was liberated77 from prison.
My father was enraptured78 on finding me freed from the vexations of a criminal charge, that I was again allowed to breathe the fresh atmosphere and permitted to return to my native country. I did not participate in these feelings, for to me the walls of a dungeon or a palace were alike hateful. The cup of life was poisoned forever, and although the sun shone upon me, as upon the happy and gay of heart, I saw around me nothing but a dense79 and frightful darkness, penetrated80 by no light but the glimmer81 of two eyes that glared upon me. Sometimes they were the expressive82 eyes of Henry, languishing83 in death, the dark orbs84 nearly covered by the lids and the long black lashes85 that fringed them; sometimes it was the watery86, clouded eyes of the monster, as I first saw them in my chamber87 at Ingolstadt.
My father tried to awaken88 in me the feelings of affection. He talked of Geneva, which I should soon visit, of Elizabeth and Ernest; but these words only drew deep groans89 from me. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a wish for happiness and thought with melancholy delight of my beloved cousin or longed, with a devouring90 maladie du pays, to see once more the blue lake and rapid Rhone, that had been so dear to me in early childhood; but my general state of feeling was a torpor91 in which a prison was as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature; and these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of anguish and despair. At these moments I often endeavoured to put an end to the existence I loathed92, and it required unceasing attendance and vigilance to restrain me from committing some dreadful act of violence.
Yet one duty remained to me, the recollection of which finally triumphed over my selfish despair. It was necessary that I should return without delay to Geneva, there to watch over the lives of those I so fondly loved and to lie in wait for the murderer, that if any chance led me to the place of his concealment93, or if he dared again to blast me by his presence, I might, with unfailing aim, put an end to the existence of the monstrous94 image which I had endued95 with the mockery of a soul still more monstrous. My father still desired to delay our departure, fearful that I could not sustain the fatigues96 of a journey, for I was a shattered wreck97 — the shadow of a human being. My strength was gone. I was a mere98 skeleton, and fever night and day preyed99 upon my wasted frame. Still, as I urged our leaving Ireland with such inquietude and impatience100, my father thought it best to yield. We took our passage on board a vessel101 bound for Havre-de-Grace and sailed with a fair wind from the Irish shores. It was midnight. I lay on the deck looking at the stars and listening to the dashing of the waves. I hailed the darkness that shut Ireland from my sight, and my pulse beat with a feverish joy when I reflected that I should soon see Geneva. The past appeared to me in the light of a frightful dream; yet the vessel in which I was, the wind that blew me from the detested shore of Ireland, and the sea which surrounded me told me too forcibly that I was deceived by no vision and that Clerval, my friend and dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the monster of my creation. I repassed, in my memory, my whole life — my quiet happiness while residing with my family in Geneva, the death of my mother, and my departure for Ingolstadt. I remembered, shuddering, the mad enthusiasm that hurried me on to the creation of my hideous102 enemy, and I called to mind the night in which he first lived. I was unable to pursue the train of thought; a thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitterly. Ever since my recovery from the fever I had been in the custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum, for it was by means of this drug only that I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the preservation103 of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various misfortunes, I now swallowed double my usual quantity and soon slept profoundly. But sleep did not afford me respite104 from thought and misery; my dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me. Towards morning I was possessed105 by a kind of nightmare; I felt the fiend’s grasp in my neck and could not free myself from it; groans and cries rang in my ears. My father, who was watching over me, perceiving my restlessness, awoke me; the dashing waves were around, the cloudy sky above, the fiend was not here: a sense of security, a feeling that a truce106 was established between the present hour and the irresistible107, disastrous108 future imparted to me a kind of calm forgetfulness, of which the human mind is by its structure peculiarly susceptible109.
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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deposed
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| v.罢免( depose的过去式和过去分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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augury
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| n.预言，征兆，占卦 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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doting
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| adj.溺爱的，宠爱的 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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replete
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| adj.饱满的，塞满的；n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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retrospect
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| n.回顾，追溯；v.回顾，回想，追溯 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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incitement
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| 激励； 刺激； 煽动； 激励物 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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endued
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| v.授予，赋予（特性、才能等）( endue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fatigues
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| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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101
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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102
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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preservation
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| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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