FRANKENSTEIN
PART 10
Chapter 19
London was
our present point of rest; we determined to remain several months in this
wonderful and celebrated city. Clerval desired the intercourse of the men of
genius and talent who flourished at this time, but this was with me a secondary
object; I was principally occupied with the means of obtaining the information
necessary for the completion of my promise and quickly availed myself of the
letters of introduction that I had brought with me, addressed to the most
distinguished natural philosophers.
If this
journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness, it would have
afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had come over my existence,
and I only visited these people for the sake of the information they might give
me on the subject in which my interest was so terribly profound. Company was
irksome to me; when alone, I could fill my mind with the sights of heaven and
earth; the voice of Henry soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a
transitory peace. But busy, uninteresting, joyous faces brought back despair to
my heart. I saw an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my fellow men;
this barrier was sealed with the blood of William and Justine, and to reflect
on the events connected with those names filled my soul with anguish.
But in
Clerval I saw the image of my former self; he was inquisitive and anxious to
gain experience and instruction. The difference of manners which he observed
was to him an inexhaustible source of instruction and amusement. He was also
pursuing an object he had long had in view. His design was to visit India, in
the belief that he had in his knowledge of its various languages, and in the
views he had taken of its society, the means of materially assisting the
progress of European colonization and trade. In Britain only could he further
the execution of his plan. He was forever busy, and the only check to his
enjoyments was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this as much
as possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one who
was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by any care or bitter
recollection. I often refused to accompany him, alleging another engagement,
that I might remain alone. I now also began to collect the materials necessary
for my new creation, and this was to me like the torture of single drops of
water continually falling on the head. Every thought that was devoted to it was
an extreme anguish, and every word that I spoke in allusion to it caused my
lips to quiver, and my heart to palpitate.
After
passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person in Scotland
who had formerly been our visitor at Geneva. He mentioned the beauties of his
native country and asked us if those were not sufficient allurements to induce
us to prolong our journey as far north as Perth, where he resided. Clerval
eagerly desired to accept this invitation, and I, although I abhorred society,
wished to view again mountains and streams and all the wondrous works with
which Nature adorns her chosen dwelling-places. We had arrived in England at
the beginning of October, and it was now February. We accordingly determined to
commence our journey towards the north at the expiration of another month. In
this expedition we did not intend to follow the great road to Edinburgh, but to
visit Windsor, Oxford, Matlock, and the Cumberland lakes, resolving to arrive
at the completion of this tour about the end of July. I packed up my chemical
instruments and the materials I had collected, resolving to finish my labours
in some obscure nook in the northern highlands of Scotland.
We quitted
London on the 27th of March and remained a few days at Windsor, rambling in its
beautiful forest. This was a new scene to us mountaineers; the majestic oaks,
the quantity of game, and the herds of stately deer were all novelties to us.
From
thence we proceeded to Oxford. As we entered this city our minds were filled
with the remembrance of the events that had been transacted there more than a
century and a half before. It was here that Charles I. had collected his
forces. This city had remained faithful to him, after the whole nation had
forsaken his cause to join the standard of Parliament and liberty. The memory
of that unfortunate king and his companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent
Goring, his queen, and son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city
which they might be supposed to have inhabited. The spirit of elder days found
a dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these feelings had
not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of the city had yet in
itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration. The colleges are ancient and
picturesque; the streets are almost magnificent; and the lovely Isis, which
flows beside it through meadows of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a
placid expanse of waters, which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers, and
spires, and domes, embosomed among aged trees.
I enjoyed
this scene, and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the memory of the past
and the anticipation of the future. I was formed for peaceful happiness. During
my youthful days discontent never visited my mind, and if I was ever overcome
by ennui, the sight of what is beautiful in nature or the study of what is
excellent and sublime in the productions of man could always interest my heart
and communicate elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has
entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall
soon cease to be—a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others
and intolerable to myself.
We passed
a considerable period at Oxford, rambling among its environs and endeavouring
to identify every spot which might relate to the most animating epoch of
English history. Our little voyages of discovery were often prolonged by the
successive objects that presented themselves. We visited the tomb of the
illustrious Hampden and the field on which that patriot fell. For a moment my
soul was elevated from its debasing and miserable fears to contemplate the
divine ideas of liberty and self sacrifice of which these sights were the
monuments and the remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains
and look around me with a free and lofty spirit, but the iron had eaten into my
flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self.
We left
Oxford with regret and proceeded to Matlock, which was our next place of rest.
The country in the neighbourhood of this village resembled, to a greater
degree, the scenery of Switzerland; but everything is on a lower scale, and the
green hills want the crown of distant white Alps which always attend on the
piny mountains of my native country. We visited the wondrous cave and the
little cabinets of natural history, where the curiosities are disposed in the
same manner as in the collections at Servox and Chamounix. The latter name made
me tremble when pronounced by Henry, and I hastened to quit Matlock, with which
that terrible scene was thus associated.
From
Derby, still journeying northwards, we passed two months in Cumberland and
Westmorland. I could now almost fancy myself among the Swiss mountains. The
little patches of snow which yet lingered on the northern sides of the
mountains, the lakes, and the dashing of the rocky streams were all familiar
and dear sights to me. Here also we made some acquaintances, who almost
contrived to cheat me into happiness. The delight of Clerval was proportionably
greater than mine; his mind expanded in the company of men of talent, and he
found in his own nature greater capacities and resources than he could have
imagined himself to have possessed while he associated with his inferiors.
"I could pass my life here," said he to me; "and among these
mountains I should scarcely regret Switzerland and the Rhine."
But he
found that a traveller's life is one that includes much pain amidst its
enjoyments. His feelings are forever on the stretch; and when he begins to sink
into repose, he finds himself obliged to quit that on which he rests in
pleasure for something new, which again engages his attention, and which also
he forsakes for other novelties.
We had
scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmorland and conceived
an affection for some of the inhabitants when the period of our appointment
with our Scotch friend approached, and we left them to travel on. For my own
part I was not sorry. I had now neglected my promise for some time, and I
feared the effects of the daemon's disappointment. He might remain in
Switzerland and wreak his vengeance on my relatives. This idea pursued me and
tormented me at every moment from which I might otherwise have snatched repose
and peace. I waited for my letters with feverish impatience; if they were
delayed I was miserable and overcome by a thousand fears; and when they arrived
and I saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to read
and ascertain my fate. Sometimes I thought that the fiend followed me and might
expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. When these thoughts possessed
me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but followed him as his shadow, to
protect him from the fancied rage of his destroyer. I felt as if I had
committed some great crime, the consciousness of which haunted me. I was
guiltless, but I had indeed drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal
as that of crime.
I visited
Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind; and yet that city might have interested
the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so well as Oxford, for the
antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing to him. But the beauty and
regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, its romantic castle and its environs,
the most delightful in the world, Arthur's Seat, St. Bernard's Well, and the
Pentland Hills compensated him for the change and filled him with cheerfulness
and admiration. But I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey.
We left
Edinburgh in a week, passing through Coupar, St. Andrew's, and along the banks
of the Tay, to Perth, where our friend expected us. But I was in no mood to
laugh and talk with strangers or enter into their feelings or plans with the
good humour expected from a guest; and accordingly I told Clerval that I wished
to make the tour of Scotland alone. "Do you," said I, "enjoy
yourself, and let this be our rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two; but
do not interfere with my motions, I entreat you; leave me to peace and solitude
for a short time; and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart,
more congenial to your own temper."
Henry
wished to dissuade me, but seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to remonstrate.
He entreated me to write often. "I had rather be with you," he said,
"in your solitary rambles, than with these Scotch people, whom I do not
know; hasten, then, my dear friend, to return, that I may again feel myself
somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence."
Having
parted from my friend, I determined to visit some remote spot of Scotland and
finish my work in solitude. I did not doubt but that the monster followed me
and would discover himself to me when I should have finished, that he might
receive his companion. With this resolution I traversed the northern highlands
and fixed on one of the remotest of the Orkneys as the scene of my labours. It
was a place fitted for such a work, being hardly more than a rock whose high
sides were continually beaten upon by the waves. The soil was barren, scarcely
affording pasture for a few miserable cows, and oatmeal for its inhabitants,
which consisted of five persons, whose gaunt and scraggy limbs gave tokens of
their miserable fare. Vegetables and bread, when they indulged in such luxuries,
and even fresh water, was to be procured from the mainland, which was about
five miles distant.
On the
whole island there were but three miserable huts, and one of these was vacant
when I arrived. This I hired. It contained but two rooms, and these exhibited
all the squalidness of the most miserable penury. The thatch had fallen in, the
walls were unplastered, and the door was off its hinges. I ordered it to be
repaired, bought some furniture, and took possession, an incident which would
doubtless have occasioned some surprise had not all the senses of the cottagers
been benumbed by want and squalid poverty. As it was, I lived ungazed at and
unmolested, hardly thanked for the pittance of food and clothes which I gave,
so much does suffering blunt even the coarsest sensations of men.
In this
retreat I devoted the morning to labour; but in the evening, when the weather
permitted, I walked on the stony beach of the sea to listen to the waves as
they roared and dashed at my feet. It was a monotonous yet ever-changing scene.
I thought of Switzerland; it was far different from this desolate and appalling
landscape. Its hills are covered with vines, and its cottages are scattered
thickly in the plains. Its fair lakes reflect a blue and gentle sky, and when
troubled by the winds, their tumult is but as the play of a lively infant when
compared to the roarings of the giant ocean.
In this
manner I distributed my occupations when I first arrived, but as I proceeded in
my labour, it became every day more horrible and irksome to me. Sometimes I
could not prevail on myself to enter my laboratory for several days, and at
other times I toiled day and night in order to complete my work. It was,
indeed, a filthy process in which I was engaged. During my first experiment, a
kind of enthusiastic frenzy had blinded me to the horror of my employment; my
mind was intently fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes were shut
to the horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in cold blood, and my
heart often sickened at the work of my hands.
Thus
situated, employed in the most detestable occupation, immersed in a solitude
where nothing could for an instant call my attention from the actual scene in
which I was engaged, my spirits became unequal; I grew restless and nervous.
Every moment I feared to meet my persecutor. Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed
on the ground, fearing to raise them lest they should encounter the object
which I so much dreaded to behold. I feared to wander from the sight of my
fellow creatures lest when alone he should come to claim his companion.
In the
mean time I worked on, and my labour was already considerably advanced. I
looked towards its completion with a tremulous and eager hope, which I dared
not trust myself to question but which was intermixed with obscure forebodings
of evil that made my heart sicken in my bosom.
Chapter 20
I sat one
evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was just rising from
the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, and I remained idle, in
a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labour for the night or
hasten its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of
reflection occurred to me which led me to consider the effects of what I was
now doing. Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner and had created
a fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it
forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being of
whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times
more malignant than her mate and delight, for its own sake, in murder and
wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in
deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a
thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made
before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already
lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence
for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn
with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he
be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one
of his own species. Even if they were to leave Europe and inhabit the deserts
of the new world, yet one of the first results of those sympathies for which
the daemon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated
upon the earth who might make the very existence of the species of man a
condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to
inflict this curse upon everlasting generations? I had before been moved by the
sophisms of the being I had created; I had been struck senseless by his
fiendish threats; but now, for the first time, the wickedness of my promise
burst upon me; I shuddered to think that future ages might curse me as their
pest, whose selfishness had not hesitated to buy its own peace at the price,
perhaps, of the existence of the whole human race.
I trembled
and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by the light of the
moon the daemon at the casement. A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed
on me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had
followed me in my travels; he had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or
taken refuge in wide and desert heaths; and he now came to mark my progress and
claim the fulfilment of my promise.
As I
looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of malice and
treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my promise of creating
another like to him, and trembling with passion, tore to pieces the thing on
which I was engaged. The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future
existence he depended for happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and
revenge, withdrew.
I left the
room, and locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own heart never to resume
my labours; and then, with trembling steps, I sought my own apartment. I was
alone; none were near me to dissipate the gloom and relieve me from the
sickening oppression of the most terrible reveries.
Several
hours passed, and I remained near my window gazing on the sea; it was almost
motionless, for the winds were hushed, and all nature reposed under the eye of
the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone specked the water, and now and then
the gentle breeze wafted the sound of voices as the fishermen called to one
another. I felt the silence, although I was hardly conscious of its extreme
profundity, until my ear was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the
shore, and a person landed close to my house.
In a few
minutes after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if some one endeavoured to
open it softly. I trembled from head to foot; I felt a presentiment of who it
was and wished to rouse one of the peasants who dwelt in a cottage not far from
mine; but I was overcome by the sensation of helplessness, so often felt in
frightful dreams, when you in vain endeavour to fly from an impending danger,
and was rooted to the spot. Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the
passage; the door opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared.
Shutting
the door, he approached me and said in a smothered voice, "You have
destroyed the work which you began; what is it that you intend? Do you dare to
break your promise? I have endured toil and misery; I left Switzerland with
you; I crept along the shores of the Rhine, among its willow islands and over
the summits of its hills. I have dwelt many months in the heaths of England and
among the deserts of Scotland. I have endured incalculable fatigue, and cold,
and hunger; do you dare destroy my hopes?"
"Begone!
I do break my promise; never will I create another like yourself, equal in
deformity and wickedness."
"Slave,
I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself unworthy of my
condescension. Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but
I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You
are my creator, but I am your master; obey!"
"The
hour of my irresolution is past, and the period of your power is arrived. Your
threats cannot move me to do an act of wickedness; but they confirm me in a
determination of not creating you a companion in vice. Shall I, in cool blood,
set loose upon the earth a daemon whose delight is in death and wretchedness?
Begone! I am firm, and your words will only exasperate my rage."
The
monster saw my determination in my face and gnashed his teeth in the impotence
of anger. "Shall each man," cried he, "find a wife for his
bosom, and each beast have his mate, and I be alone? I had feelings of
affection, and they were requited by detestation and scorn. Man! You may hate,
but beware! Your hours will pass in dread and misery, and soon the bolt will
fall which must ravish from you your happiness forever. Are you to be happy
while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness? You can blast my other
passions, but revenge remains—revenge, henceforth dearer than light or food! I
may die, but first you, my tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes
on your misery. Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful. I will watch
with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall
repent of the injuries you inflict."
"Devil,
cease; and do not poison the air with these sounds of malice. I have declared
my resolution to you, and I am no coward to bend beneath words. Leave me; I am
inexorable."
"It
is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night."
I started
forward and exclaimed, "Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure
that you are yourself safe."
I would
have seized him, but he eluded me and quitted the house with precipitation. In
a few moments I saw him in his boat, which shot across the waters with an
arrowy swiftness and was soon lost amidst the waves.
All was
again silent, but his words rang in my ears. I burned with rage to pursue the
murderer of my peace and precipitate him into the ocean. I walked up and down
my room hastily and perturbed, while my imagination conjured up a thousand
images to torment and sting me. Why had I not followed him and closed with him
in mortal strife? But I had suffered him to depart, and he had directed his
course towards the mainland. I shuddered to think who might be the next victim
sacrificed to his insatiate revenge. And then I thought again of his
words—"I WILL BE WITH YOU ON YOUR WEDDING-NIGHT." That, then, was the
period fixed for the fulfilment of my destiny. In that hour I should die and at
once satisfy and extinguish his malice. The prospect did not move me to fear;
yet when I thought of my beloved Elizabeth, of her tears and endless sorrow,
when she should find her lover so barbarously snatched from her, tears, the
first I had shed for many months, streamed from my eyes, and I resolved not to
fall before my enemy without a bitter struggle.
The night
passed away, and the sun rose from the ocean; my feelings became calmer, if it
may be called calmness when the violence of rage sinks into the depths of
despair. I left the house, the horrid scene of the last night's contention, and
walked on the beach of the sea, which I almost regarded as an insuperable
barrier between me and my fellow creatures; nay, a wish that such should prove
the fact stole across me.
I desired
that I might pass my life on that barren rock, wearily, it is true, but
uninterrupted by any sudden shock of misery. If I returned, it was to be sacrificed
or to see those whom I most loved die under the grasp of a daemon whom I had
myself created.
I walked
about the isle like a restless spectre, separated from all it loved and
miserable in the separation. When it became noon, and the sun rose higher, I
lay down on the grass and was overpowered by a deep sleep. I had been awake the
whole of the preceding night, my nerves were agitated, and my eyes inflamed by
watching and misery. The sleep into which I now sank refreshed me; and when I
awoke, I again felt as if I belonged to a race of human beings like myself, and
I began to reflect upon what had passed with greater composure; yet still the
words of the fiend rang in my ears like a death-knell; they appeared like a
dream, yet distinct and oppressive as a reality.
The sun
had far descended, and I still sat on the shore, satisfying my appetite, which
had become ravenous, with an oaten cake, when I saw a fishing-boat land close
to me, and one of the men brought me a packet; it contained letters from Geneva,
and one from Clerval entreating me to join him. He said that he was wearing
away his time fruitlessly where he was, that letters from the friends he had
formed in London desired his return to complete the negotiation they had
entered into for his Indian enterprise. He could not any longer delay his
departure; but as his journey to London might be followed, even sooner than he
now conjectured, by his longer voyage, he entreated me to bestow as much of my
society on him as I could spare. He besought me, therefore, to leave my
solitary isle and to meet him at Perth, that we might proceed southwards
together. This letter in a degree recalled me to life, and I determined to quit
my island at the expiration of two days. Yet, before I departed, there was a
task to perform, on which I shuddered to reflect; I must pack up my chemical
instruments, and for that purpose I must enter the room which had been the
scene of my odious work, and I must handle those utensils the sight of which
was sickening to me. The next morning, at daybreak, I summoned sufficient
courage and unlocked the door of my laboratory. The remains of the
half-finished creature, whom I had destroyed, lay scattered on the floor, and I
almost felt as if I had mangled the living flesh of a human being. I paused to
collect myself and then entered the chamber. With trembling hand I conveyed the
instruments out of the room, but I reflected that I ought not to leave the
relics of my work to excite the horror and suspicion of the peasants; and I
accordingly put them into a basket, with a great quantity of stones, and laying
them up, determined to throw them into the sea that very night; and in the
meantime I sat upon the beach, employed in cleaning and arranging my chemical
apparatus.
Nothing
could be more complete than the alteration that had taken place in my feelings
since the night of the appearance of the daemon. I had before regarded my
promise with a gloomy despair as a thing that, with whatever consequences, must
be fulfilled; but I now felt as if a film had been taken from before my eyes
and that I for the first time saw clearly. The idea of renewing my labours did
not for one instant occur to me; the threat I had heard weighed on my thoughts,
but I did not reflect that a voluntary act of mine could avert it. I had
resolved in my own mind that to create another like the fiend I had first made
would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness, and I banished
from my mind every thought that could lead to a different conclusion.
Between
two and three in the morning the moon rose; and I then, putting my basket
aboard a little skiff, sailed out about four miles from the shore. The scene
was perfectly solitary; a few boats were returning towards land, but I sailed
away from them. I felt as if I was about the commission of a dreadful crime and
avoided with shuddering anxiety any encounter with my fellow creatures. At one
time the moon, which had before been clear, was suddenly overspread by a thick
cloud, and I took advantage of the moment of darkness and cast my basket into
the sea; I listened to the gurgling sound as it sank and then sailed away from
the spot. The sky became clouded, but the air was pure, although chilled by the
northeast breeze that was then rising. But it refreshed me and filled me with
such agreeable sensations that I resolved to prolong my stay on the water, and
fixing the rudder in a direct position, stretched myself at the bottom of the
boat. Clouds hid the moon, everything was obscure, and I heard only the sound
of the boat as its keel cut through the waves; the murmur lulled me, and in a
short time I slept soundly. I do not know how long I remained in this
situation, but when I awoke I found that the sun had already mounted
considerably. The wind was high, and the waves continually threatened the
safety of my little skiff. I found that the wind was northeast and must have
driven me far from the coast from which I had embarked. I endeavoured to change
my course but quickly found that if I again made the attempt the boat would be
instantly filled with water. Thus situated, my only resource was to drive
before the wind. I confess that I felt a few sensations of terror. I had no
compass with me and was so slenderly acquainted with the geography of this part
of the world that the sun was of little benefit to me. I might be driven into
the wide Atlantic and feel all the tortures of starvation or be swallowed up in
the immeasurable waters that roared and buffeted around me. I had already been
out many hours and felt the torment of a burning thirst, a prelude to my other
sufferings. I looked on the heavens, which were covered by clouds that flew
before the wind, only to be replaced by others; I looked upon the sea; it was
to be my grave. "Fiend," I exclaimed, "your task is already
fulfilled!" I thought of Elizabeth, of my father, and of Clerval—all left
behind, on whom the monster might satisfy his sanguinary and merciless
passions. This idea plunged me into a reverie so despairing and frightful that
even now, when the scene is on the point of closing before me forever, I
shudder to reflect on it.
Some hours
passed thus; but by degrees, as the sun declined towards the horizon, the wind
died away into a gentle breeze and the sea became free from breakers. But these
gave place to a heavy swell; I felt sick and hardly able to hold the rudder,
when suddenly I saw a line of high land towards the south.
Almost
spent, as I was, by fatigue and the dreadful suspense I endured for several
hours, this sudden certainty of life rushed like a flood of warm joy to my
heart, and tears gushed from my eyes.
How
mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we have of life
even in the excess of misery! I constructed another sail with a part of my
dress and eagerly steered my course towards the land. It had a wild and rocky
appearance, but as I approached nearer I easily perceived the traces of
cultivation. I saw vessels near the shore and found myself suddenly transported
back to the neighbourhood of civilized man. I carefully traced the windings of
the land and hailed a steeple which I at length saw issuing from behind a small
promontory. As I was in a state of extreme debility, I resolved to sail
directly towards the town, as a place where I could most easily procure
nourishment. Fortunately I had money with me.
As I
turned the promontory I perceived a small neat town and a good harbour, which I
entered, my heart bounding with joy at my unexpected escape.
As I was
occupied in fixing the boat and arranging the sails, several people crowded towards
the spot. They seemed much surprised at my appearance, but instead of offering
me any assistance, whispered together with gestures that at any other time
might have produced in me a slight sensation of alarm. As it was, I merely
remarked that they spoke English, and I therefore addressed them in that
language. "My good friends," said I, "will you be so kind as to
tell me the name of this town and inform me where I am?"
"You
will know that soon enough," replied a man with a hoarse voice.
"Maybe you are come to a place that will not prove much to your taste, but
you will not be consulted as to your quarters, I promise you."
I was
exceedingly surprised on receiving so rude an answer from a stranger, and I was
also disconcerted on perceiving the frowning and angry countenances of his
companions. "Why do you answer me so roughly?" I replied.
"Surely it is not the custom of Englishmen to receive strangers so
inhospitably."
"I do
not know," said the man, "what the custom of the English may be, but
it is the custom of the Irish to hate villains." While this strange
dialogue continued, I perceived the crowd rapidly increase. Their faces
expressed a mixture of curiosity and anger, which annoyed and in some degree
alarmed me.
I inquired
the way to the inn, but no one replied. I then moved forward, and a murmuring
sound arose from the crowd as they followed and surrounded me, when an
ill-looking man approaching tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Come,
sir, you must follow me to Mr. Kirwin's to give an account of yourself."
"Who
is Mr. Kirwin? Why am I to give an account of myself? Is not this a free
country?"
"Ay,
sir, free enough for honest folks. Mr. Kirwin is a magistrate, and you are to
give an account of the death of a gentleman who was found murdered here last
night."
This
answer startled me, but I presently recovered myself. I was innocent; that
could easily be proved; accordingly I followed my conductor in silence and was
led to one of the best houses in the town. I was ready to sink from fatigue and
hunger, but being surrounded by a crowd, I thought it politic to rouse all my
strength, that no physical debility might be construed into apprehension or conscious
guilt. Little did I then expect the calamity that was in a few moments to
overwhelm me and extinguish in horror and despair all fear of ignominy or
death. I must pause here, for it requires all my fortitude to recall the memory
of the frightful events which I am about to relate, in proper detail, to my
recollection.
To be continued
