75 лучших рассказов / 75 Best Short Stories

‘It is dangerous to read in a sorcerer’s books,’ said he with a smile, though his countenance was uneasy and displeased. ‘Georgiana, there are pages in that volume which I can scarcely glance over and keep 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 if you will. I shall deem myself hardly unworthy of it. But come, I have sought you for the luxury of your voice. Sing to me, dearest.’

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit. He then took his leave with a boyish exuberance of gayety, assuring her that her seclusion would endure but a little longer, and that the result was already certain. Scarcely had he departed when Georgiana felt irresistibly impelled to follow him. She had forgotten to inform Aylmer of a symptom which for two or three hours past had begun to excite her attention. It was a sensation in the fatal birthmark, not painful, but which induced a restlessness throughout 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 and feverish worker, with the intense glow of its fire, which by the quantities of soot clustered above it seemed to have been burning for ages. There was a distilling apparatus in full operation. Around the room were retorts, tubes, cylinders, crucibles, and other apparatus of chemical research. An electrical machine stood ready for immediate use. The atmosphere felt oppressively close, and was tainted with gaseous odors which had been tormented forth by the processes of science. The severe and homely simplicity of the apartment, with its naked walls and brick pavement, looked strange, accustomed as Georgiana had become to the fantastic elegance of her boudoir. But what chiefly, indeed almost solely, drew her attention, was the aspect of Aylmer himself.

He was pale as death, anxious and absorbed, and hung over the furnace as if it depended upon his utmost watchfulness whether the liquid which it was distilling should be the draught of immortal happiness or misery. How different from the sanguine and joyous mien that 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 his assistant. ‘Now, if there be a thought too much or too little, it is all over.’

‘Ho! ho!’ mumbled Aminadab. ‘Look, master! look!’

Aylmer raised his eyes hastily, and at first reddened, then grew paler than ever, on beholding Georgiana. He rushed towards her and seized her arm with a gripe that left the print of his fingers upon it.

‘Why do you come hither? Have you no trust in your husband?’ cried he, impetuously. ‘Would you throw the blight of that fatal birthmark over my labors? It is not well done. Go, prying woman, go!’

‘Nay, Aylmer,’ said Georgiana with the firmness of which she possessed no stinted endowment, ‘it is not you that have a right to complain. You mistrust your wife; you have concealed the anxiety with which you watch the development of this experiment. Think not so unworthily of me, my husband. Tell me all the risk we run, and fear not that I shall shrink; for my share in it is far less than your own.’

‘No, no, Georgiana!’ said Aylmer, impatiently; ‘it must not be.’

‘I submit,’ replied she calmly. ‘And, Aylmer, I shall quaff whatever draught you bring me; but it will be on the same principle that would induce me to take a dose of poison if offered by your hand.’

‘My noble wife,’ said Aylmer, deeply moved, ‘I knew not the height and depth of your nature until now. Nothing shall be concealed. Know, then, that this crimson hand, superficial as it seems, has clutched its grasp into your being with a strength of which I had no previous conception. I have already administered agents powerful enough to do aught except to change your entire physical system. Only one 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 is danger.’

‘Danger? There is but one danger – that this horrible stigma shall be 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. ‘And now, dearest, return to your boudoir. In a little while all will be tested.’