Франкенштейн, или Современный Прометей / Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. Уровень 2

William is dead! That sweet child, whose smiles delighted and warmed my heart, who was so gentle! Victor, he is murdered!

Last Thursday (May 7th), I, my niece, and your two brothers, went to walk in Plainpalais. The evening was warm and serene. It was already dusk when we discovered that William and Ernest were absent. We sat on a bench. Soon Ernest came. �Where is William?’ he asked. They played hide-and-seek, and Ernest could not find William.

We began to search for him until night fell. He was not anywhere.

We came home and returned with torches. About five in the morning I discovered my lovely boy. He was on the grass, livid and motionless. The print of the murder’s finger was on his neck.

We brought him home. Elizabeth hastily examined the neck of the victim and exclaimed, �O God! I have murdered my darling child!’

She fainted. Then she told me, that that same evening William teased her to let him wear a very valuable miniature of your mother. This picture is gone, and was doubtless the temptation for the murderer.

Come, dearest Victor; you alone can console Elizabeth! We are all unhappy. Your dear mother! Alas, Victor! Thank God she did not live to witness the cruel, miserable death of her youngest son!

Come, Victor. Enter the house of mourning, my friend, but with kindness and affection for those who love you, and not with hatred for your enemies.

Your affectionate father,

Alphonse Frankenstein.

В В В В Geneva, May 12th, 17-.

”

I threw the letter on the table, and covered my face with my hands.

“My dear Frankenstein,” exclaimed Henry, “my dear friend, what has happened?”

I showed him the letter. Tears also gushed from the eyes of Clerval, as he read it.

“My friend,” said he; “your disaster is irreparable. What do you intend to do?”

“To go instantly to Geneva. Come with me, Henry, to order the horses.”

During our walk, Clerval said a few words of consolation.

“Poor William!” said he, “dear lovely child, he now sleeps with his angel mother! To die so miserably! Poor little fellow!”

My journey was very melancholy.

Fear overcame me; I trembled. I remained two days at Lausanne, in this painful state of mind. I contemplated the lake. The waters were placid; all around was calm. The snowy mountains were not changed. Then I continued my journey towards Geneva.

Yet, as I drew nearer home, grief and fear again overcame me.