Spirit.--So great that all that has gone before is as nothing.

I.--But the refractive power of the diamond is so immense, that the

image will be formed within the lens. How is that difficulty to be

surmounted?

Spirit.--Pierce the lens through its axis, and the difficulty is

obviated. The image will be formed in the pierced space, which will

itself serve as a tube to look through. Now I am called. Good-night.

I cannot at all describe the effect that these extraordinary

communications had upon me. I felt completely bewildered. No biological

theory could account for the _discovery_ of the lens. The medium might,

by means of biological _rapport_ with my mind, have gone so far as to

read my questions, and reply to them coherently. But biology could

not enable her to discover that magnetic currents would so alter the

crystals of the diamond as to remedy its previous defects, and admit

of its being polished into a perfect lens. Some such theory may have

passed through my head, it is true; but if so, I had forgotten it. In

my excited condition of mind there was no course left but to become a

convert, and it was in a state of the most painful nervous exaltation

that I left the medium’s house that evening. She accompanied me to

the door, hoping that I was satisfied. The raps followed us as we went

through the hall, sounding on the balusters, the flooring, and even

the lintels of the door. I hastily expressed my satisfaction, and

escaped hurriedly into the cool night air. I walked home with but one

thought possessing me,--how to obtain a diamond of the immense size

required. My entire means multiplied a hundred times over would have

been inadequate to its purchase. Besides, such stones are rare, and

become historical. I could find such only in the regalia of Eastern or

European monarchs.

IV

THE EYE OF MORNING

There was a light in Simon’s room as I entered my house. A vague

impulse urged me to visit him. As I opened the door of his sitting-room

unannounced, he was bending, with his back toward me, over a carcel

lamp, apparently engaged in minutely examining some object which he

held in his hands. As I entered, he started suddenly thrust his hand

into his breast pocket, and turned to me with a face crimson with

confusion.

“What!” I cried, “poring over the miniature of some fair lady? Well,

don’t blush so much; I won’t ask to see it.”

Simon laughed awkwardly enough, but made none of the negative

protestations usual on such occasions. He asked me to take a seat.

“Simon,” said I, “I have just come from Madame Vulpes.”

This time Simon turned as white as a sheet, and seemed stupefied, as

if a sudden electric shock had smitten him. He babbled some incoherent

words, and went hastily to a small closet where he usually kept his

liquors. Although astonished at his emotion, I was too preoccupied with

my own idea to pay much attention to anything else.

“You say truly when you call Madame Vulpes a devil of a woman,” I

continued. “Simon, she told me wonderful things to-night, or rather was

the means of telling me wonderful things. Ah! if I could only get a

diamond that weighed one hundred and forty carats!”

Scarcely had the sigh with which I uttered this desire died upon

my lips, when Simon, with the aspect of a wild beast, glared at me

savagely, and, rushing to the mantelpiece, where some foreign weapons

hung on the wall, caught up a Malay creese, and brandished it furiously

before him.

“No!” he cried in French, into which he always broke when excited. “No!

you shall not have it! You are perfidious! You have consulted with that

demon, and desire my treasure! But I will die first! Me! I am brave!

You cannot make me fear!”

All this, uttered in a loud voice trembling with excitement, astounded

me. I saw at a glance that I had accidentally trodden upon the edges of

Simon’s secret, whatever it was. It was necessary to reassure him.

“My dear Simon,” I said, “I am entirely at a loss to know what you

mean. I went to Madame Vulpes to consult with her on a scientific

problem, to the solution of which I discovered that a diamond of the

size I just mentioned was necessary. You were never alluded to during

the evening, nor, so far as I was concerned, even thought of. What

can be the meaning of this outburst? If you happen to have a set of

valuable diamonds in your possession, you need fear nothing from me.

The diamond which I require you could not possess; or, if you did

possess it, you would not be living here.”

Something in my tone must have completely reassured him; for his

expression immediately changed to a sort of constrained merriment,

combined, however, with a certain suspicious attention to my movements.

He laughed, and said that I must bear with him; that he was at certain

moments subject to a species of vertigo, which betrayed itself in

incoherent speeches, and that the attacks passed off as rapidly as

they came. He put his weapon aside while making this explanation, and

endeavored, with some success, to assume a more cheerful air.

All this did not impose on me in the least. I was too much accustomed

to analytical labors to be baffled by so flimsy a veil. I determined to

probe the mystery to the bottom.

“Simon,” I said, gayly, “let us forget all this over a bottle of

Burgundy. I have a case of Lausseure’s _Clos Vougeot_ downstairs,

fragrant with the odors and ruddy with the sunlight of the Côte d’Or.

Let us have up a couple of bottles. What say you?”

“With all my heart,” answered Simon, smilingly.

I produced the wine and we seated ourselves to drink. It was of

a famous vintage, that of 1848, a year when war and wine throve

together,--and its pure but powerful juice seemed to impart renewed

vitality to the system. By the time we had half finished the second

bottle, Simon’s head, which I knew was a weak one, had begun to yield,

while I remained calm as ever, only that every draught seemed to send a

flush of vigor through my limbs. Simon’s utterance became more and more

indistinct. He took to singing French _chansons_ of a not very moral

tendency. I rose suddenly from the table just at the conclusion of one

of those incoherent verses, and fixing my eyes on him with a quiet

smile, said: “Simon, I have deceived you. I learned your secret this

evening. You may as well be frank with me. Mrs. Vulpes, or rather one

of her spirits, told me all.”

He started with horror. His intoxication seemed for the moment to fade

away, and he made a movement towards the weapon that he had a short

time before laid down. I stopped him with my hand.

“Monster!” he cried, passionately, “I am ruined! What shall I do? You

shall never have it! I swear by my mother!”

“I don’t want it,” I said; “rest secure, but be frank with me. Tell me

all about it.”

The drunkenness began to return. He protested with maudlin earnestness

that I was entirely mistaken,--that I was intoxicated; then asked me to

swear eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose the mystery to me. I

pledged myself, of course, to all. With an uneasy look in his eyes, and

hands unsteady with drink and nervousness, he drew a small case from

his breast and opened it. Heavens! How the mild lamplight was shivered

into a thousand prismatic arrows, as it fell upon a vast rose-diamond

that glittered in the case! I was no judge of diamonds, but I saw at a

glance that this was a gem of rare size and purity. I looked at Simon

with wonder, and--must I confess it?--with envy. How could he have

obtained this treasure? In reply to my questions, I could just gather

from his drunken statements (of which, I fancy, half the incoherence

was affected) that he had been superintending a gang of slaves engaged

in diamond-washing in Brazil; that he had seen one of them secrete a

diamond, but, instead of informing his employers, had quietly watched

the negro until he saw him bury his treasure; that he had dug it up

and fled with it, but that as yet he was afraid to attempt to dispose

of it publicly,--so valuable a gem being almost certain to attract too

much attention to its owner’s antecedents,--and he had not been able

to discover any of those obscure channels by which such matters are

conveyed away safely. He added, that, in accordance with oriental

practice, he had named his diamond with the fanciful title of “The Eye

of Morning.”

While Simon was relating this to me, I regarded the great diamond

attentively. Never had I beheld anything so beautiful. All the glories

of light, ever imagined or described, seemed to pulsate in its

crystalline chambers. Its weight, as I learned from Simon, was exactly

one hundred and forty carats. Here was an amazing coincidence. The

hand of destiny seemed in it. On the very evening when the spirit of

Leeuwenhoek communicates to me the great secret of the microscope, the

priceless means which he directs me to employ start up within my easy

reach! I determined, with the most perfect deliberation, to possess

myself of Simon’s diamond.

I sat opposite to him while he nodded over his glass, and calmly

revolved the whole affair. I did not for an instant contemplate so

foolish an act as a common theft, which would of course be discovered

or at least necessitate flight and concealment, all of which must

interfere with my scientific plans. There was but one step to be

taken,--to kill Simon. After all, what was the life of a little

peddling Jew, in comparison with the interests of science? Human beings

are taken every day from the condemned prisons to be experimented on

by surgeons. This man, Simon, was by his own confession a criminal, a

robber, and I believed on my soul a murderer. He deserved death quite

as much as any felon condemned by the laws: why should I not, like

government, contrive that his punishment should contribute to the

progress of human knowledge?

The means for accomplishing everything I desired lay within my reach.

There stood upon the mantelpiece a bottle half full of French laudanum.

Simon was so occupied with his diamond, which I had just restored to

him, that it was an affair of no difficulty to drug his glass. In a

quarter of an hour he was in a profound sleep.

I now opened his waistcoat, took the diamond from the inner pocket in

which he had placed it, and removed him to the bed, on which I laid him

so that his feet hung down over the edge. I had possessed myself of

the Malay creese, which I held in my right hand, while with the other

I discovered as accurately as I could by pulsation the exact locality

of the heart. It was essential that all the aspects of his death should

lead to the surmise of self-murder. I calculated the exact angle at

which it was probable that the weapon, if levelled by Simon’s own hand,

would enter his breast; then with one powerful blow I thrust it up to

the hilt in the very spot which I desired to penetrate. A convulsive

thrill ran through Simon’s limbs. I heard a smothered sound issue from

his throat, precisely like the bursting of a larger air-bubble, sent up

by a diver, when it reaches the surface of the water; he turned half

round on his side, and, as if to assist my plans more effectually, his

right hand, moved by some mere spasmodic impulse, clasped the handle

of the creese, which it remained holding with extraordinary muscular

tenacity. Beyond this there was no apparent struggle. The laudanum,

I presume, paralyzed the usual nervous action. He must have died

instantly.

There was yet something to be done. To make it certain that all

suspicion of the act should be diverted from any inhabitant of the

house to Simon himself, it was necessary that the door should be found

in the morning _locked on the inside_. How to do this, and afterwards

escape myself? Not by the window; that was a physical impossibility.

Besides, I was determined that the windows _also_ should be found

bolted. The solution was simple enough. I descended softly to my own

room for a peculiar instrument which I had used for holding small

slippery substances, such as minute spheres of glass, etc. This

instrument was nothing more than a long slender hand-vise, with a very

powerful grip, and a considerable leverage, which last was accidentally

owing to the shape of the handle. Nothing was simpler than, when the

key was in the lock, to seize the end of its stem in this vise, through

the keyhole, from the outside, and lock the door. Previously, however,

to doing this, I burned a number of papers on Simon’s hearth. Suicides

almost always burn papers before they destroy themselves. I also

emptied some more laudanum into Simon’s glass,--having first removed

from it all traces of wine--cleaned the other wine-glass, and brought

the bottles away with me. If traces of two persons drinking had been

found in the room, the question naturally would have arisen, Who was

the second? Besides, the wine-bottles might have been identified as

belonging to me. The laudanum I poured out to account for its presence

in his stomach, in case of a post-mortem examination. The theory

naturally would be, that he first intended to poison himself, but,

after swallowing a little of the drug, was either disgusted with its

taste, or changed his mind from other motives, and chose the dagger.

These arrangements made, I walked out, leaving the gas burning, locked

the door with my vise, and went to bed.

Simon’s death was not discovered until nearly three in the afternoon.

The servant, astonished at seeing the gas burning,--the light streaming

on the dark landing from under the door,--peeped through the keyhole

and saw Simon on the bed. She gave the alarm. The door was burst open,

and the neighborhood was in a fever of excitement.

Everyone in the house was arrested, myself included. There was an

inquest; but no clew to his death beyond that of suicide could be

obtained. Curiously enough, he had made several speeches to his friends

the preceding week, that seemed to point to self-destruction. One

gentleman swore that Simon had said in his presence that “he was tired

of life.” His landlord affirmed that Simon, when paying him his last

month’s rent, remarked that “he should not pay him rent much longer.”

All the other evidence corresponded,--the door locked inside, the

position of the corpse, the burnt papers. As I anticipated, no one

knew of the possession of the diamond by Simon, so that no motive was

suggested for his murder. The jury, after a prolonged examination,

brought in the usual verdict, and the neigborhood once more settled

down into its accustomed quiet.

V

ANIMULA

The three months succeeding Simon’s catastrophe I devoted night and

day to my diamond lens. I had constructed a vast galvanic battery,

composed of nearly two thousand pairs of plates,--a higher power I

dared not use, lest the diamond should be calcined. By means of this

enormous engine I was enabled to send a powerful current of electricity

continually through my great diamond, which it seemed to me gained in

lustre every day. At the expiration of a month I commenced the grinding

and polishing of the lens, a work of intense toil and exquisite

delicacy. The great density of the stone, and the care required to be

taken with the curvatures of the surfaces of the lens, rendered the

labor the severest and most harassing that I had yet undergone.

At last the eventful moment came; the lens was completed. I stood

trembling on the threshold of new worlds. I had the realization of

Alexander’s famous wish before me. The lens lay on the table, ready

to be placed upon its platform. My hand fairly shook as I enveloped a

drop of water with a thin coating of oil of turpentine, preparatory to

its examination,--a process necessary in order to prevent the rapid

evaporation of the water. I now placed the drop on a thin slip of glass

under the lens, and throwing upon it, by the combined aid of a prism

and a mirror, a powerful stream of light, I approached my eye to the

minute hole drilled through the axis of the lens. For an instant I saw

nothing save what seemed to be an illuminated chaos, a vast luminous

abyss. A pure white light, cloudless and serene, and seemingly as

limitless as space itself, was my first impression. Gently, and with

the greatest care, I depressed the lens a few hair’s-breadths. The

wondrous illumination still continued, but as the lens approached the

object a scene of indescribable beauty was unfolded to my view.

I seemed to gaze upon a vast space, the limits of which extended far

beyond my vision. An atmosphere of magical luminousness permeated the

entire field of view. I was amazed to see no trace of animalculous

life. Not a living thing, apparently, inhabited that dazzling expanse.

I comprehended instantly that, by the wondrous power of my lens, I had

penetrated beyond the grosser particles of aqueous matter, beyond the

realms of infusoria and protozoa, down to the original gaseous globule,

into whose luminous interior I was gazing, as into an almost boundless

dome filled with a supernatural radiance.

It was, however, no brilliant void into which I looked. On every side

I beheld beautiful inorganic forms, of unknown texture, and colored

with the most enchanting hues. These forms presented the appearance of

what might be called, for want of a more specific definition, foliated

clouds of the highest rarity; that is, they undulated and broke into

vegetable formations, and were tinged with splendors compared with

which the gilding of our autumn woodlands is as dross compared with

gold. Far away into the illimitable distance stretched long avenues of

these gaseous forests, dimly transparent, and painted with prismatic

hues of unimaginable brilliancy. The pendent branches waved along the

fluid glades until every vista seemed to break through half-lucent

ranks of many-colored drooping silken pennons. What seemed to be either

fruits or flowers, pied with a thousand hues lustrous and ever varying,

bubbled from the crowns of this fairy foliage. No hills, no lakes, no

rivers, no forms animate or inanimate, were to be seen, save those vast

auroral copses that floated serenely in the luminous stillness, with

leaves and fruits and flowers gleaming with unknown fires, unrealizable

by mere imagination.

How strange, I thought, that this sphere should be thus condemned

to solitude! I had hoped, at least, to discover some new form of

animal life--perhaps of a lower class than any with which we are at

present acquainted, but still, some living organism. I found my newly

discovered world, if I may so speak, a beautiful chromatic desert.

While I was speculating on the singular arrangements of the internal

economy of Nature, with which she so frequently splinters into atoms

our most compact theories, I thought I beheld a form moving slowly

through the glades of one of the prismatic forests. I looked more

attentively, and found that I was not mistaken. Words cannot depict the

anxiety with which I awaited the nearer approach of this mysterious

object. Was it merely some inanimate substance, held in suspense in the

attenuated atmosphere of the globule, or was it an animal endowed with

vitality and motion? It approached, flitting behind the gauzy, colored

veils of cloud-foliage, for seconds dimly revealed, then vanishing. At

last the violet pennons that trailed nearest to me vibrated; they were

gently pushed aside, and the form floated out into the broad light.

It was a female human shape. When I say human, I mean it possessed the

outlines of humanity,--but there the analogy ends. Its adorable beauty

lifted it illimitable heights beyond the loveliest daughter of Adam.

I cannot, I dare not, attempt to inventory the charms of this divine

revelation of perfect beauty. Those eyes of mystic violet, dewy and

serene, evade my words. Her long, lustrous hair following her glorious

head in a golden wake, like the track sown in heaven by a falling star,

seems to quench my most burning phrases with its splendors. If all the

bees of Hybla nestled upon my lips, they would still sing but hoarsely

the wondrous harmonies of outline that enclosed her form.

She swept out from between the rainbow-curtains of the cloud-trees

into the broad sea of light that lay beyond. Her motions were those

of some graceful naiad, cleaving, by a mere effort of her will, the

clear, unruffled waters that fill the chambers of the sea. She floated

forth with the serene grace of a frail bubble ascending through the

still atmosphere of a June day. The perfect roundness of her limbs

formed suave and enchanting curves. It was like listening to the most

spiritual symphony of Beethoven the divine, to watch the harmonious

flow of lines. This, indeed, was a pleasure cheaply purchased at any

price. What cared I if I had waded to the portal of this wonder through

another’s blood? I would have given my own to enjoy one such moment of

intoxication and delight.

Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and forgetful for an

instant of everything save her presence, I withdrew my eye from the

microscope eagerly,--alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide that lay

beneath my instrument, the bright light from mirror and from prism

sparkled on a colorless drop of water! There, in that tiny bead of dew,

this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The planet Neptune was not

more distant from me than she. I hastened once more to apply my eye to

the microscope.

Animula (let me now call her by that dear name which I subsequently

bestowed on her) had changed her position. She had again approached

the wondrous forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. Presently one

of the trees--as I must call them--unfolded a long ciliary process,

with which it seized one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on its

summit, and, sweeping slowly down, held it within reach of Animula. The

sylph took it in her delicate hand and began to eat. My attention was

so entirely absorbed by her, that I could not apply myself to the task

of determining whether this singular plant was or was not instinct with

volition.

I watched her, as she made her repast, with the most profound

attention. The suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of delight

through my frame; my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful

eyes in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What would I not

have given to have had the power to precipitate myself into that

luminous ocean, and float with her through those groves of purple and

gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her every movement, she

suddenly started, seemed to listen for a moment, and then cleaving

the brilliant ether in which she was floating, like a flash of light,

pierced through the opaline forest, and disappeared.

Instantly a series of the most singular sensations attacked me. It

seemed as if I had suddenly gone blind. The luminous sphere was

still before me, but my daylight had vanished. What caused this

sudden disappearance? Had she a lover or a husband? Yes, that was the

solution! Some signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated through

the avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed the summons.

The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this conclusion, startled

me. I tried to reject the conviction that my reason forced upon me. I

battled against the fatal conclusion,--but in vain. It was so. I had no

escape from it. I loved an animalcule!

It is true that, thanks to the marvellous power of my microscope, she

appeared of human proportions. Instead of presenting the revolting

aspect of the coarser creatures, that live and struggle and die, in the

more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop, she was fair and

delicate and of surpassing beauty. But of what account was all that?

Every time that my eyes was withdrawn from the instrument, it fell on a

miserable drop of water, within which, I must be content to know, dwelt

all that could make my life lovely.

Could she but see me once! Could I for one moment pierce the mystical

walls that so inexorably rose to separate us, and whisper all that

filled my soul, I might consent to be satisfied for the rest of my

life with the knowledge of her remote sympathy. It would be something

to have established even the faintest personal link to bind us

together,--to know that at times, when roaming through those enchanted

glades, she might think of the wonderful stranger, who had broken the

monotony of her life with his presence, and left a gentle memory in her

heart!

Famous mystery stories · 第 11 / 17 段