第94章

"The concoction of the draught has been perfect," said he, inanswer to Georgiana's look. "Unless all my science have deceived me,it cannot fail.""Save on your account, my dearest Aylmer," observed his wife, "Imight wish to put off this birthmark of mortality by relinquishingmortality itself, in preference to any other mode. Life is but a sadpossession to those who have attained precisely the degree of moraladvancement at which I stand. Were I weaker and blinder, it might behappiness. Were I stronger, it might be endured hopefully. But, beingwhat I find myself, methinks I am of all mortals the most fit to die.""You are fit for heaven without tasting death!" replied herhusband. "But why do we speak of dying? The draught cannot fail.

Behold its effect upon this plant!"

On the window-seat there stood a geranium, diseased with yellowblotches, which had overspread all its leaves. Aylmer poured a smallquantity of the liquid upon the soil in which it grew. In a littletime, when the roots of the plant had taken up the moisture, theunsightly blotches began to be extinguished in a living verdure.

"There needed no proof," said Georgiana, quietly. "Give me thegoblet. I joyfully stake all upon your word.""Drink, then, thou lofty creature!" exclaimed Aylmer, with fervidadmiration. "There is no taint of imperfection on thy spirit. Thysensible frame, too, shall soon be all perfect!"She quaffed the liquid, and returned the goblet to his hand.

"It is grateful," said she, with a placid smile. "Methinks it islike water from a heavenly fountain; for it contains I know not whatof unobtrusive fragrance and deliciousness. It allays a feverishthirst, that had parched me for many days. Now, dearest, let me sleep.

My earthly senses are closing over my spirit, like the leaves aroundthe heart of a rose, at sunset."She spoke the last words with a gentle reluctance, as if itrequired almost more energy than she could command to pronounce thefaint and lingering syllables. Scarcely had they loitered throughher lips, ere she was lost in slumber. Aylmer sat by her side,watching her aspect with the emotions proper to a man, the whole valueof whose existence was involved in the process now to be tested.

Mingled with this mood, however, was the philosophic investigation,characteristic of the man of science. Not the minutest symptom escapedhim. A heightened flush of the cheek- a slight irregularity of breath-a quiver of the eyelid- a hardly perceptible tremor through the frame-such were the details which, as the moments passed, he wrote down inhis folio volume. Intense thought had set its stamp upon everyprevious page of that volume; but the thoughts of years were allconcentrated upon the last.

While thus employed, he failed not to gaze often at the fatal Hand,and not without a shudder. Yet once, by a strange and unaccountableimpulse, he pressed it with his lips. His spirit recoiled, however, inthe very act, and Georgiana, out of the midst of her deep sleep, moveduneasily and murmured, as if in remonstrance. Again, Aylmer resumedhis watch. Nor was it without avail. The Crimson Hand, which atfirst had been strongly visible upon the marble paleness ofGeorgiana's cheek now grew more faintly outlined. She remained notless pale than ever; but the birthmark, with every breath that cameand went, lost somewhat of its former distinctness. Its presence hadbeen awful; its departure was more awful still. Watch the stain of therainbow fading out of the sky; and you will know how that mysterioussymbol passed away.

"By Heaven, it is well-nigh gone!" said Aylmer to himself, inalmost irrepressible ecstasy. "I can scarcely trace it now. Success!

Success! And now it is like the faintest rose-color. The slightestflush of blood across her cheek would overcome it. But she is sopale!"He drew aside the window-curtain, and suffered the light of naturalday to fall into the room, and rest upon her cheek. At the sametime, he heard a gross, hoarse chuckle, which he had long known as hisservant Aminadab's expression of delight.

"Ah, clod! Ah, earthly mass!" cried Aylmer, laughing in a sort offrenzy. "You have served me well! Master and Spirit- Earth and Heaven-have both done their part in this! Laugh, thing of the senses! Youhave earned the right to laugh."These exclamations broke Georgiana's sleep. She slowly unclosed hereyes, and gazed into the mirror, which her husband had arranged forthat purpose. A faint smile flitted over her lips, when she recognizedhow barely perceptible was now that Crimson Hand, which had onceblazed forth with such disastrous brilliancy as to scare away alltheir happiness. But then her eyes sought Aylmer's face, with atrouble and anxiety that he could by no means account for.

"My poor Aylmer!" murmured she.