"It is dangerous to read in a sorcerer's books," said he, with asmile, though his countenance was uneasy and displeased. "Georgiana,there are pages in that volume, which I can scarcely glance over andkeep my senses. Take heed lest it prove as detrimental to you!"It has made me worship you more than ever," said she.
"Ah! wait for this one success," rejoined he, "then worship me ifyou will. I shall deem myself hardly unworthy of it. But, come! I havesought you for the luxury of your voice. Sing to me, dearest!"So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench thethirst of his spirit. He then took his leave, with a boyish exuberanceof gaiety, assuring her that her seclusion would endure but a littlelonger, and that the result was already certain. Scarcely had hedeparted, when Georgiana felt irresistibly impelled to follow him. Shehad forgotten to inform Aylmer of a symptom, which, for two or threehours past, had begun to excite her attention. It was a sensation inthe fatal birthmark, not painful, but which induced a restlessnessthroughout her system. Hastening after her husband, she intruded,for the first time, into the laboratory.
The first thing that struck her eye was the furnace, that hot andfeverish worker, with the intense glow of its fire, which, by thequantities of soot clustered above it, seemed to have been burning forages. There was a distilling apparatus in full operation. Around theroom were retorts, tubes, cylinders, crucibles, and other apparatus ofchemical research. An electrical machine stood ready for immediateuse. The atmosphere felt oppressively close, and was tainted withgaseous odors, which had been tormented forth by the processes ofscience. The severe and homely simplicity of the apartment, with itsnaked walls and brick pavement, looked strange, accustomed asGeorgiana had become to the fantastic elegance of her boudoir. Butwhat chiefly, indeed almost solely, drew her attention, was the aspectof Aylmer himself.
He was pale as death, anxious, and absorbed, and hung over thefurnace as if it depended upon his utmost watchfulness whether theliquid, which it was distilling, should be the draught of immortalhappiness or misery. How different from the sanguine and joyous mienthat he had assumed for Georgiana's encouragement!
"Carefully now, Aminadab! Carefully, thou human machine! Carefully,thou man of clay!" muttered Aylmer, more to himself than hisassistant. "Now, if there be a thought too much or too little, it isall over!""Hoh! hoh!" mumbled Aminadab- "look, master, look!"Aylmer raised his eyes hastily, and at first reddened, then grewpaler than ever, on beholding Georgiana. He rushed towards her, andseized her arm with a gripe that left the print of his fingers uponit.
"Why do you come hither? Have you no trust in your husband?"cried he impetuously. "Would you throw the blight of that fatalbirthmark over my labors? It is not well done. Go, prying woman, go!"Nay, Aylmer," said Georgiana, with the firmness of which shepossessed no stinted endowment, "it is not you that have a right tocomplain. You mistrust your wife! You have concealed the anxietywith which you watch the development of this experiment. Think notso unworthily of me, my husband! Tell me all the risk we run; and fearnot that I shall shrink, for my share in it is far less than yourown!""No, no, Georgiana!" said Aylmer impatiently, "it must not be.""I submit," replied she calmly. "And, Aylmer, I shall quaffwhatever draught you bring me; but it will be on the same principlethat would induce me to take a dose of poison, if offered by yourhand.""My noble wife," said Aylmer, deeply moved, "I knew not the heightand depth of your nature, until now. Nothing shall be concealed.
Know, then, that this Crimson Hand, superficial as it seems, hasclutched its grasp into your being, with a strength of which I had noprevious conception. I have already administered agents powerfulenough to do aught except to change your entire physical system. Onlyone thing remains to be tried. If that fail us, we are ruined!""Why did you hesitate to tell me this?" asked she.
"Because, Georgiana," said Aylmer, in a low voice, "there isdanger!""Danger? There is but one danger- that this horrible stigma shallbe left upon my cheek!" cried Georgiana. "Remove it! remove it!-whatever be the cost- or we shall both go mad!""Heaven knows, your words are too true," said Aylmer, sadly. "Andnow, dearest, return to your boudoir. In a little while, all will betested."He conducted her back, and took leave of her with a solemntenderness, which spoke far more than his words how much was now atstake. After his departure, Georgiana became wrapt in musings. Sheconsidered the character of Aylmer, and did it completer justicethan at any previous moment. Her heart exulted, while it trembled,at his honorable love, so pure and lofty that it would acceptnothing less than perfection, nor miserably make itself contented withan earthlier nature than he had dreamed of. She felt how much moreprecious was such a sentiment, than that meaner kind which wouldhave borne with the imperfection for her sake, and have been guilty oftreason to holy love, by degrading its perfect idea to the level ofthe actual. And, with her whole spirit, she prayed, that, for a singlemoment, she might satisfy his highest and deepest conception. Longerthan one moment, she well knew, it could not be; for his spirit wasever on the march- ever ascending- and each instant required somethingthat was beyond the scope of the instant before.
The sound of her husband's footsteps aroused her. He bore a crystalgoblet, containing a liquor colorless as water, but bright enough tobe the draught of immortality. Aylmer was pale; but it seemed ratherthe consequence of a highly wrought state of mind, and tension ofspirit, than of fear or doubt.
