A few words more and I lay aside the pen for ever. Yet why should I not
relinquish it now? All that I have said is preparatory to this scene,
and my fingers, tremulous and cold as my heart, refuse any further
exertion. This must not be. Let my last energies support me in the
finishing of this task. Then will I lay down my head in the lap of
death. Hushed will be all my murmurs in the sleep of the grave.
Every sentiment has perished in my bosom. Even friendship is extinct.
Your love for me has prompted me to this task; but I would not have
complied if it had not been a luxury thus to feast upon my woes. I have
justly calculated upon my remnant of strength. When I lay down the pen
the taper of life will expire: my existence will terminate with my tale.
Now that I was left alone with Wieland, the perils of my situation
presented themselves to my mind. That this paroxysm should terminate in
havock and rage it was reasonable to predict. The first suggestion of my
fears had been disproved by my experience. Carwin had acknowledged his
offences, and yet had escaped. The vengeance which I had harboured had
not been admitted by Wieland, and yet the evils which I had endured,
compared with those inflicted on my brother, were as nothing. I thirsted
for his blood, and was tormented with an insatiable appetite for his
destruction; yet my brother was unmoved, and had dismissed him in
safety. Surely thou wast more than man, while I am sunk below the
beasts.
Did I place a right construction on the conduct of Wieland? Was the
error that misled him so easily rectified? Were views so vivid and faith
so strenuous thus liable to fading and to change? Was there not reason
to doubt the accuracy of my perceptions? With images like these was
my mind thronged, till the deportment of my brother called away my
attention.
I saw his lips move and his eyes cast up to heaven. Then would he listen
and look back, as if in expectation of some one's appearance. Thrice he
repeated these gesticulations and this inaudible prayer. Each time the
mist of confusion and doubt seemed to grow darker and to settle on his
understanding. I guessed at the meaning of these tokens. The words
of Carwin had shaken his belief, and he was employed in summoning the
messenger who had formerly communed with him, to attest the value of
those new doubts. In vain the summons was repeated, for his eye met
nothing but vacancy, and not a sound saluted his ear.
He walked to the bed, gazed with eagerness at the pillow which had
sustained the head of the breathless Catharine, and then returned to
the place where I sat. I had no power to lift my eyes to his face: I was
dubious of his purpose: this purpose might aim at my life.
Alas! nothing but subjection to danger, and exposure to temptation,
can show us what we are. By this test was I now tried, and found to be
cowardly and rash. Men can deliberately untie the thread of life, and of
this I had deemed myself capable; yet now that I stood upon the brink
of fate, that the knife of the sacrificer was aimed at my heart, I
shuddered and betook myself to any means of escape, however monstrous.
Can I bear to think--can I endure to relate the outrage which my heart
meditated? Where were my means of safety? Resistance was vain. Not even
the energy of despair could set me on a level with that strength which
his terrific prompter had bestowed upon Wieland. Terror enables us to
perform incredible feats; but terror was not then the state of my mind:
where then were my hopes of rescue?
Methinks it is too much. I stand aside, as it were, from myself; I
estimate my own deservings; a hatred, immortal and inexorable, is my
due. I listen to my own pleas, and find them empty and false: yes, I
acknowledge that my guilt surpasses that of all mankind: I confess that
the curses of a world, and the frowns of a deity, are inadequate to my
demerits. Is there a thing in the world worthy of infinite abhorrence?
It is I. What shall I say! I was menaced, as I thought, with death, and,
to elude this evil, my hand was ready to inflict death upon the menacer.
In visiting my house, I had made provision against the machinations of
Carwin. In a fold of my dress an open penknife was concealed. This I
now seized and drew forth. It lurked out of view: but I now see that my
state of mind would have rendered the deed inevitable if my brother
had lifted his hand. This instrument of my preservation would have been
plunged into his heart.
O, insupportable remembrance! hide thee from my view for a time; hide
it from me that my heart was black enough to meditate the stabbing of a
brother! a brother thus supreme in misery; thus towering in virtue!
He was probably unconscious of my design, but presently drew back.
This interval was sufficient to restore me to myself. The madness, the
iniquity of that act which I had purposed rushed upon my apprehension.
For a moment I was breathless with agony. At the next moment I recovered
my strength, and threw the knife with violence on the floor.
The sound awoke my brother from his reverie. He gazed alternately at me
and at the weapon. With a movement equally solemn he stooped and took
it up. He placed the blade in different positions, scrutinizing it
accurately, and maintaining, at the same time, a profound silence.
Again he looked at me, but all that vehemence and loftiness of spirit
which had so lately characterized his features, were flown. Fallen
muscles, a forehead contracted into folds, eyes dim with unbidden
drops, and a ruefulness of aspect which no words can describe, were now
visible.
His looks touched into energy the same sympathies in me, and I poured
forth a flood of tears. This passion was quickly checked by fear, which
had now, no longer, my own, but his safety for their object. I watched
his deportment in silence. At length he spoke:
"Sister," said he, in an accent mournful and mild, "I have acted poorly
my part in this world. What thinkest thou? Shall I not do better in the
next?"
I could make no answer. The mildness of his tone astonished and
encouraged me. I continued to regard him with wistful and anxious looks.
"I think," resumed he, "I will try. My wife and my babes have gone
before. Happy wretches! I have sent you to repose, and ought not to
linger behind."
These words had a meaning sufficiently intelligible. I looked at the
open knife in his hand and shuddered, but knew not how to prevent the
deed which I dreaded. He quickly noticed my fears, and comprehended
them. Stretching towards me his hand, with an air of increasing
mildness: "Take it," said he: "Fear not for thy own sake, nor for mine.
The cup is gone by, and its transient inebriation is succeeded by the
soberness of truth.
"Thou angel whom I was wont to worship! fearest thou, my sister, for
thy life? Once it was the scope of my labours to destroy thee, but I was
prompted to the deed by heaven; such, at least, was my belief. Thinkest
thou that thy death was sought to gratify malevolence? No. I am pure
from all stain. I believed that my God was my mover!
"Neither thee nor myself have I cause to injure. I have done my duty,
and surely there is merit in having sacrificed to that, all that is dear
to the heart of man. If a devil has deceived me, he came in the habit
of an angel. If I erred, it was not my judgment that deceived me, but
my senses. In thy sight, being of beings! I am still pure. Still will I
look for my reward in thy justice!"
Did my ears truly report these sounds? If I did not err, my brother was
restored to just perceptions. He knew himself to have been betrayed to
the murder of his wife and children, to have been the victim of infernal
artifice; yet he found consolation in the rectitude of his motives. He
was not devoid of sorrow, for this was written on his countenance; but
his soul was tranquil and sublime.
Perhaps this was merely a transition of his former madness into a new
shape. Perhaps he had not yet awakened to the memory of the horrors
which he had perpetrated. Infatuated wretch that I was! To set myself up
as a model by which to judge of my heroic brother! My reason taught
me that his conclusions were right; but conscious of the impotence of
reason over my own conduct; conscious of my cowardly rashness and my
criminal despair, I doubted whether any one could be stedfast and wise.
Such was my weakness, that even in the midst of these thoughts, my
mind glided into abhorrence of Carwin, and I uttered in a low voice, O!
Carwin! Carwin! What hast thou to answer for?
My brother immediately noticed the involuntary exclamation: "Clara!"
said he, "be thyself. Equity used to be a theme for thy eloquence.
Reduce its lessons to practice, and be just to that unfortunate man. The
instrument has done its work, and I am satisfied.
"I thank thee, my God, for this last illumination! My enemy is thine
also. I deemed him to be man, the man with whom I have often communed;
but now thy goodness has unveiled to me his true nature. As the
performer of thy behests, he is my friend."
My heart began now to misgive me. His mournful aspect had gradually
yielded place to a serene brow. A new soul appeared to actuate his
frame, and his eyes to beam with preternatural lustre. These symptoms
did not abate, and he continued:
"Clara! I must not leave thee in doubt. I know not what brought about
thy interview with the being whom thou callest Carwin. For a time, I was
guilty of thy error, and deduced from his incoherent confessions that I
had been made the victim of human malice. He left us at my bidding, and
I put up a prayer that my doubts should be removed. Thy eyes were shut,
and thy ears sealed to the vision that answered my prayer.
"I was indeed deceived. The form thou hast seen was the incarnation of
a daemon. The visage and voice which urged me to the sacrifice of my
family, were his. Now he personates a human form: then he was invironed
with the lustre of heaven.--
"Clara," he continued, advancing closer to me, "thy death must come.
This minister is evil, but he from whom his commission was received is
God. Submit then with all thy wonted resignation to a decree that cannot
be reversed or resisted. Mark the clock. Three minutes are allowed to
thee, in which to call up thy fortitude, and prepare thee for thy doom."
There he stopped.
Even now, when this scene exists only in memory, when life and all its
functions have sunk into torpor, my pulse throbs, and my hairs uprise:
my brows are knit, as then; and I gaze around me in distraction. I was
unconquerably averse to death; but death, imminent and full of agony as
that which was threatened, was nothing. This was not the only or chief
inspirer of my fears.
For him, not for myself, was my soul tormented. I might die, and no
crime, surpassing the reach of mercy, would pursue me to the presence
of my Judge; but my assassin would survive to contemplate his deed, and
that assassin was Wieland!
Wings to bear me beyond his reach I had not. I could not vanish with a
thought. The door was open, but my murderer was interposed between
that and me. Of self-defence I was incapable. The phrenzy that lately
prompted me to blood was gone; my state was desperate; my rescue was
impossible.
The weight of these accumulated thoughts could not be borne. My sight
became confused; my limbs were seized with convulsion; I spoke, but my
words were half-formed:--
"Spare me, my brother! Look down, righteous Judge! snatch me from this
fate! take away this fury from him, or turn it elsewhere!"
Such was the agony of my thoughts, that I noticed not steps entering my
apartment. Supplicating eyes were cast upward, but when my prayer was
breathed, I once more wildly gazed at the door. A form met my sight: I
shuddered as if the God whom I invoked were present. It was Carwin that
again intruded, and who stood before me, erect in attitude, and stedfast
in look! The sight of him awakened new and rapid thoughts. His recent
tale was remembered: his magical transitions and mysterious energy of
voice: Whether he were infernal or miraculous, or human, there was no
power and no need to decide. Whether the contriver or not of this spell,
he was able to unbind it, and to check the fury of my brother. He had
ascribed to himself intentions not malignant. Here now was afforded a
test of his truth. Let him interpose, as from above; revoke the
savage decree which the madness of Wieland has assigned to heaven, and
extinguish for ever this passion for blood!
My mind detected at a glance this avenue to safety. The recommendations
it possessed thronged as it were together, and made but one impression
on my intellect. Remoter effects and collateral dangers I saw not.
Perhaps the pause of an instant had sufficed to call them up. The
improbability that the influence which governed Wieland was external or
human; the tendency of this stratagem to sanction so fatal an error, or
substitute a more destructive rage in place of this; the sufficiency of
Carwin's mere muscular forces to counteract the efforts, and restrain
the fury of Wieland, might, at a second glance, have been discovered;
but no second glance was allowed. My first thought hurried me to action,
and, fixing my eyes upon Carwin I exclaimed--
"O wretch! once more hast thou come? Let it be to abjure thy malice; to
counterwork this hellish stratagem; to turn from me and from my brother,
this desolating rage!
"Testify thy innocence or thy remorse: exert the powers which pertain to
thee, whatever they be, to turn aside this ruin. Thou art the author
of these horrors! What have I done to deserve thus to die? How have I
merited this unrelenting persecution? I adjure thee, by that God whose
voice thou hast dared to counterfeit, to save my life!
"Wilt thou then go? leave me! Succourless!"
Carwin listened to my intreaties unmoved, and turned from me. He seemed
to hesitate a moment: then glided through the door. Rage and despair
stifled my utterance. The interval of respite was passed; the pangs
reserved for me by Wieland, were not to be endured; my thoughts rushed
again into anarchy. Having received the knife from his hand, I held it
loosely and without regard; but now it seized again my attention, and I
grasped it with force.
He seemed to notice not the entrance or exit of Carwin. My gesture and
the murderous weapon appeared to have escaped his notice. His silence
was unbroken; his eye, fixed upon the clock for a time, was now
withdrawn; fury kindled in every feature; all that was human in his face
gave way to an expression supernatural and tremendous. I felt my left
arm within his grasp.--
Even now I hesitated to strike. I shrunk from his assault, but in
vain.--
Here let me desist. Why should I rescue this event from oblivion? Why
should I paint this detestable conflict? Why not terminate at once this
series of horrors?--Hurry to the verge of the precipice, and cast myself
for ever beyond remembrance and beyond hope?
Still I live: with this load upon my breast; with this phantom to pursue
my steps; with adders lodged in my bosom, and stinging me to madness:
still I consent to live!
Yes, I will rise above the sphere of mortal passions: I will spurn at
the cowardly remorse that bids me seek impunity in silence, or comfort
in forgetfulness. My nerves shall be new strung to the task. Have I not
resolved? I will die. The gulph before me is inevitable and near. I will
die, but then only when my tale is at an end.