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While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific,
I wandered on with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky
elevated my spirits; I clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud,
"William, dear angel! this is thy funeral, this thy dirge!"
As I said these words, I perceived in the gloom a figure which stole
from behind a clump of trees near me; I stood fixed, gazing intently:
I could not be mistaken. A flash of lightning illuminated the object,
and discovered its shape plainly to me; its gigantic stature,
and the deformity of its aspect, more hideous than belongs to humanity,
instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy daemon,
to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be
(I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother?
No sooner did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced
of its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree
for support. The figure passed me quickly, and I lost it in the gloom.
Nothing in human shape could have destroyed the fair child.
He was the murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence
of the idea was an irresistible proof of the fact. I thought
of pursuing the devil; but it would have been in vain,
for another flash discovered him to me hanging among the rocks
of the nearly perpendicular ascent of Mont Saleve, a hill
that bounds Plainpalais on the south. He soon reached the summit,
and disappeared.
I remained motionless. The thunder ceased; but the rain still continued,
and the scene was enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. I resolved
in my minds the events which I had until now sought to forget:
the whole train of my progress toward the creation; the appearance
of the works of my own hands at my bedside; its departure. Two years
had now nearly elapsed since the night on which he first received life;
and was this his first crime? Alas! I had turned loose into the world
a depraved wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery;
had he not murdered my brother?
No one can conceive the anguish I suffered during the remainder
of the night, which I spent, cold and wet, in the open air.
But I did not feel the inconvenience of the weather; my imagination
was busy in scenes of evil and despair. I considered the being
whom I had cast among mankind, and endowed with the will and power
to effect purposes of horror, such as the deed which he had now done,
nearly in the light of my own vampire, my own spirit let loose
from the grave, and forced to destroy all that was dear to me.
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