"Throw open the door of the boudoir, Aminadab," said Aylmer, "andburn a pastille.""Yes, master," answered Aminadab, looking intently at thelifeless form of Georgiana; and then he muttered to himself: "If shewere my wife, I'd never part with that birthmark."When Georgiana recovered consciousness, she found herself breathingan atmosphere of penetrating fragrance, the gentle potency of whichhad recalled her from her death-like faintness. The scene around herlooked like enchantment. Aylmer had converted those smoky, dingy,sombre rooms, where he had spent his brightest years in reconditepursuits, into a series of beautiful apartments, not unfit to be thesecluded abode of a lovely woman. The walls were hung with gorgeouscurtains, which imparted the combination of grandeur and grace, thatno other species of adornment can achieve; and as they fell from theceiling to the floor, their rich and ponderous folds, concealing allangles and straight lines, appeared to shut in the scene from infinitespace. For aught Georgiana knew, it might be a pavilion among theclouds. And Aylmer, excluding the sunshine, which would haveinterfered with his chemical processes, had supplied its place withperfumed lamps, emitting flames of various hue, but all uniting in asoft, empurpled radiance. He now knelt by his wife's side, watchingher earnestly, but without alarm; for he was confident in his science,and felt that he could draw a magic circle round her, within whichno evil might intrude.
"Where am I? Ah, I remember!" said Georgiana, faintly; and sheplaced her hand over her cheek, to hide the terrible mark from herhusband's eyes.
"Fear not, dearest!" exclaimed he. "Do not shrink from me!
Believe me, Georgiana, I even rejoice in this single imperfection,since it will be such a rapture to remove it.""Oh, spare me!" sadly replied his wife. "Pray do not look at itagain. I never can forget that convulsive shudder."In order to soothe Georgiana, and, as it were, to release hermind from the burthen of actual things, Aylmer now put in practicesome of the light and playful secrets which science had taught himamong its profounder lore. Airy figures, absolutely bodiless ideas,and forms of unsubstantial beauty, came and danced before her,imprinting their momentary footsteps on beams of light. Though she hadsome indistinct idea of the method of these optical phenomena, stillthe illusion was almost perfect enough to warrant the belief thather husband possessed sway over the spiritual world. Then again,when she felt a wish to look forth from her seclusion, immediately, asif her thoughts were answered, the procession of external existenceflitted across a screen. The scenery and the figures of actual lifewere perfectly represented, but with that bewitching, yetindescribable difference, which always makes a picture, an image, or ashadow, so much more attractive than the original. When wearied ofthis, Aylmer bade her cast her eyes upon a vessel, containing aquantity of earth. She did so, with little interest at first, butwas soon startled, to perceive the germ of a plant, shooting upwardfrom the soil. Then came the slender stalk- the leaves graduallyunfolded themselves- and amid them was a perfect and lovely flower.
"It is magical!" cried Georgiana, "I dare not touch it.""Nay, pluck it," answered Aylmer, "pluck it, and inhale its briefperfume while you may. The flower will wither in a few moments, andleave nothing save its brown seed-vessels- but thence may beperpetuated a race as ephemeral as itself."But Georgiana had no sooner touched the flower than the whole plantsuffered a blight, its leaves turning coal-black, as if by theagency of fire.
"There was too powerful a stimulus," said Aylmer thoughtfully.
To make up for this abortive experiment, he proposed to take herportrait by a scientific process of his own invention. It was to beeffected by rays of light striking upon a polished plate of metal.
Georgiana assented- but, on looking at the result, was affrighted tofind the features of the portrait blurred and indefinable; while theminute figure of a hand appeared where the cheek should have been.
Aylmer snatched the metallic plate, and threw it into a jar ofcorrosive acid.
Soon, however, he forgot these mortifying failures. In theintervals of study and chemical experiment, he came to her, flushedand exhausted, but seemed invigorated by her presence, and spoke inglowing language of the resources of his art. He gave a history of thelong dynasty of the Alchemists, who spent so many ages in quest of theuniversal solvent, by which the Golden Principle might be elicitedfrom all things vile and base. Aylmer appeared to believe, that, bythe plainest scientific logic, it was altogether within the limitsof possibility to discover this long-sought medium; but, he added, aphilosopher who should go deep enough to acquire the power, wouldattain too lofty a wisdom to stoop to the exercise of it. Not lesssingular were his opinions in regard to the Elixir Vitae. He more thanintimated, that it was at his option to concoct a liquid that shouldprolong life for years- perhaps interminably- but that it wouldproduce a discord in nature, which all the world, and chiefly thequaffer of the immortal nostrum, would find cause to curse.
"Aylmer, are you in earnest?" asked Georgiana, looking at himwith amazement and fear; "it is terrible to possess such power, oreven to dream of possessing it.
"Oh, do not tremble, my love!" said her husband, "I would not wrongeither you or myself, by working such inharmonious effects upon ourlives. But I would have you consider how trifling, in comparison, isthe skill requisite to remove this little Hand."At the mention of the birthmark, Georgiana, as usual, shrank, as ifa red-hot iron had touched her cheek.
