the magic skin-第62节

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outcry　broke　out；　as　vehement　as　the　blaze　of　this　improvised　banquet。

The　voices；　perfumes；　and　lights；　the　exquisite　beauty　of　the　women；

produced　their　effect　upon　his　senses；　and　awakened　his　desires。

Delightful　music；　from　unseen　players　in　the　next　room；　drowned　the

excited　tumult　in　a　torrent　of　harmonythe　whole　strange　vision　was

complete。



Raphael　felt　a　caressing　pressure　on　is　own　hand；　a　woman's　white；

youthful　arms　were　stretched　out　to　grasp　him；　and　the　hand　was

Aquilina's。　He　knew　now　that　this　scene　was　not　a　fantastic　illusion

like　the　fleeting　pictures　of　his　disordered　dreams；　he　uttered　a

dreadful　cry；　slammed　the　door；　and　dealt　his　heartbroken　old　servant

a　blow　in　the　face。



〃Monster！〃　he　cried；　〃so　you　have　sworn　to　kill　me！〃　and　trembling　at

the　risks　he　had　just　now　run；　he　summoned　all　his　energies；　reached

his　room；　took　a　powerful　sleeping　draught；　and　went　to　bed。



〃The　devil！〃　cried　Jonathan；　recovering　himself。　〃And　M。　Bianchon　most

certainly　told　me　to　divert　his　mind。〃



It　was　close　upon　midnight。　By　that　time；　owing　to　one　of　those

physical　caprices　that　are　the　marvel　and　the　despair　of　science；

Raphael；　in　his　slumber；　became　radiant　with　beauty。　A　bright　color

glowed　on　his　pale　cheeks。　There　was　an　almost　girlish　grace　about　the

forehead　in　which　his　genius　was　revealed。　Life　seemed　to　bloom　on　the

quiet　face　that　lay　there　at　rest。　His　sleep　was　sound；　a　light；　even

breath　was　drawn　in　between　red　lips；　he　was　smilinghe　had　passed　no

doubt　through　the　gate　of　dreams　into　a　noble　life。　Was　he　a

centenarian　now？　Did　his　grandchildren　come　to　wish　him　length　of

days？　Or；　on　a　rustic　bench　set　in　the　sun　and　under　the　trees；　was　he

scanning；　like　the　prophet　on　the　mountain　heights；　a　promised　land；　a

far…off　time　of　blessing。



〃Here　you　are！〃



The　words；　uttered　in　silver　tones；　dispelled　the　shadowy　faces　of　his

dreams。　He　saw　Pauline；　in　the　lamplight；　sitting　upon　the　bed；

Pauline　grown　fairer　yet　through　sorrow　and　separation。　Raphael

remained　bewildered　by　the　sight　of　her　face；　white　as　the　petals　of

some　water　flower；　and　the　shadow　of　her　long；　dark　hair　about　it

seemed　to　make　it　whiter　still。　Her　tears　had　left　a　gleaming　trace

upon　her　cheeks；　and　hung　there　yet；　ready　to　fall　at　the　least

movement。　She　looked　like　an　angel　fallen　from　the　skies；　or　a　spirit

that　a　breath　might　waft　away；　as　she　sat　there　all　in　white；　with　her

head　bowed；　scarcely　creasing　the　quilt　beneath　her　weight。



〃Ah；　I　have　forgotten　everything！〃　she　cried；　as　Raphael　opened　his

eyes。　〃I　have　no　voice　left　except　to　tell　you；　'I　am　yours。'　There　is

nothing　in　my　heart　but　love。　Angel　of　my　life；　you　have　never　been　so

beautiful　before！　Your　eyes　are　blazing　But　come；　I　can　guess　it

all。　You　have　been　in　search　of　health　without　me；　you　were　afraid　of

mewell〃



〃Go！　go！　leave　me；〃　Raphael　muttered　at　last。　〃Why　do　you　not　go？　If

you　stay；　I　shall　die。　Do　you　want　to　see　me　die？〃



〃Die？〃　she　echoed。　〃Can　you　die　without　me？　Die？　But　you　are　young；

and　I　love　you！　Die？〃　she　asked；　in　a　deep；　hollow　voice。　She　seized

his　hands　with　a　frenzied　movement。　〃Cold！〃　she　wailed。　〃Is　it　all　an

illusion？〃



Raphael　drew　the　little　bit　of　skin　from　under　his　pillow；　it　was　as

tiny　and　as　fragile　as　a　periwinkle　petal。　He　showed　it　to　her。



〃Pauline！〃　he　said；　〃fair　image　of　my　fair　life；　let　us　say　good…bye？〃



〃Good…bye？〃　she　echoed；　looking　surprised。



〃Yes。　This　is　a　talisman　that　grants　me　all　my　wishes；　and　that

represents　my　span　of　life。　See　here；　this　is　all　that　remains　of　it。

If　you　look　at　me　any　longer；　I　shall　die〃



The　young　girl　thought　that　Valentin　had　grown　lightheaded；　she　took

the　talisman　and　went　to　fetch　the　lamp。　By　its　tremulous　light　which

she　shed　over　Raphael　and　the　talisman；　she　scanned　her　lover's　face

and　the　last　morsel　of　the　magic　skin。　As　Pauline　stood　there；　in　all

the　beauty　of　love　and　terror；　Raphael　was　no　longer　able　to　control

his　thoughts；　memories　of　tender　scenes；　and　of　passionate　and　fevered

joys；　overwhelmed　the　soul　that　had　so　long　lain　dormant　within　him；

and　kindled　a　fire　not　quite　extinct。



〃Pauline！　Pauline！　Come　to　me〃



A　dreadful　cry　came　from　the　girl's　throat；　her　eyes　dilated　with

horror；　her　eyebrows　were　distorted　and　drawn　apart　by　an　unspeakable

anguish；　she　read　in　Raphael's　eyes　the　vehement　desire　in　which　she

had　once　exulted；　but　as　it　grew　she　felt　a　light　movement　in　her

hand；　and　the　skin　contracted。　She　did　not　stop　to　think；　she　fled

into　the　next　room；　and　locked　the　door。



〃Pauline！　Pauline！〃　cried　the　dying　man；　as　he　rushed　after　her；　〃I

love　you；　I　adore　you；　I　want　you；　Pauline！　I　wish　to　die　in　your

arms！〃



With　unnatural　strength；　the　last　effort　of　ebbing　life；　he　broke　down

the　door；　and　saw　his　mistress　writhing　upon　a　sofa。　Pauline　had

vainly　tried　to　pierce　her　heart；　and　now　thought　to　find　a　rapid

death　by　strangling　herself　with　her　shawl。



〃If　I　die；　he　will　live；〃　she　said；　trying　to　tighten　the　knot　that

she　had　made。



In　her　struggle　with　death　her　hair　hung　loose；　her　shoulders　were

bare；　her　clothing　was　disordered；　her　eyes　were　bathed　in　tears；　her

face　was　flushed　and　drawn　with　the　horror　of　despair；　yet　as　her

exceeding　beauty　met　Raphael's　intoxicated　eyes；　his　delirium　grew。　He

sprang　towards　her　like　a　bird　of　prey；　tore　away　the　shawl；　and　tried

to　take　her　in　his　arms。



The　dying　man　sought　for　words　to　express　the　wish　that　was　consuming

his　strength；　but　no　sounds　would　come　except　the　choking　death…rattle

in　his　chest。　Each　breath　he　drew　sounded　hollower　than　the　last；　and

seemed　to　come　from　his　very　entrails。　At　the　last　moment；　no　longer

able　to　utter　a　sound；　he　set　his　teeth　in　Pauline's　breast。　Jonathan

appeared；　terrified　by　the　cries　he　had　heard；　and　tried　to　tear　away

the　dead　body　from　the　grasp　of　the　girl　who　was　crouching　with　it　in

a　corner。



〃What　do　you　want？〃　she　asked。　〃He　is　mine；　I　have　killed　him。　Did　I

not　foresee　how　it　would　be？〃







EPILOGUE



〃And　what　became　of　Pauline？〃



〃Pauline？　Ah！　Do　you　sometimes　spend　a　pleasant　winter　evening　by　your

own　fireside；　and　give　yourself　up　luxuriously　to　memories　of　love　or

youth；　while　you　watch　the　glow　of　the　fire　where　the　logs　of　oak　are

burning？　Here；　the　fire　outlines　a　sort　of　chessboard　in　red　squares；

there　it　has　a　sheen　like　velvet；　little　blue　flames　start　up　and

flicker　and　play　about　in　the　glowing　depths　of　the　brasier。　A

mysterious　artist　comes　and　adapts　that　flame　to　his　own　ends；　by　a

secret　of　his　own　he　draws　a　visionary　face　in　the　midst　of　those

flaming　violet　and　crimson　hues；　a　face　with　unimaginable　delicate

outlines；　a　fleeting　apparition　which　no　chance　will　ever　bring　back

again。　It　is　a　woman's　face；　her　hair　is　blown　back　by　the　wind；　her

features　speak　of　a　rapture　of　delight；　she　breathes　fire　in　the　midst

of　the　fire。　She　smiles；　she　dies；　you　will　never　see　her　any　more。

Farewell；　flower　of　the　flame！　Farewell；　essence　incomplete　and

unforeseen；　come　too　early　or　too　late　to　make　the　spark　of　some

glorious　diamond。〃



〃But；　Pauline？〃



〃You　do　not　see；　then？　I　will　begin　again。　Make　way！　make　way！　She

comes；　she　is　here；　the　queen　of　illusions；　a　woman　fleeting　as　a

kiss；　a　woman　bright　as　lightning；　issuing　in　a　blaze　like　lightning

from　the　sky；　a　being　uncreated；　of　spirit　and　love　alone。　She　has

wrapped　her　shadowy　form　in　flame；　or　perhaps　the　flame　betokens　that

she　exists　but　for　a　moment。　The　pure　outlines　of　her　shape　tell　you

that　she　comes　from　heaven。　Is　she　not　radiant　as　an　angel？　Can　you

not　hear　the　beating　of　her　wings　in　space？　She　sinks　down　beside　you

more　lightly　than　a　bird；　and　you　are　entranced　by　her　awful　eyes；

there　is　a　magical　power　in　her　light　breathing　that　draws　your　lips

to　hers；　she　flies　and　you　follow；　you　feel　the　earth　beneath　you　no

longer。　If　you　could　but　once　touch　that　form　of　snow　with　your　eager；

deluded　hands；　once　twine　the　golden　hair　round　your　fingers；　place

one　kiss　on　those　shining　eyes！　There　is　an　intoxicating　vapor　around；

and　the　spell　of　a　siren　music　is　upon　you。　Every　nerve　in　you　is

quivering；　you　are　filled　with　pain　and　longing。　O　joy　for　which　there

is　no　name！　You　have　touched　the　woman's　lips；　and　you　are　awakened　at

once　by　a　horrible　pang。　Oh！　ah！　yes；　you　have　struck　your　head

against　the　corner　of　the　bedpost；　you　have　been　clasping　its　brown

mahogany　sides；　and　chilly　gilt　ornaments；　embracing　a　piece　of　metal；

a　brazen　Cupid。〃



〃But　how　about　Pauline；　sir？〃



〃What；　again？　Listen。　One　lovely　morning　at　Tours　a　young　man；　who

held　the　hand　of　a　pretty　woman　in　his；　went　on　board　the　Ville

d'Angers。　Thus　united　they　both　looked　and　wondered　long　at　a　white

form　that　rose　elusively　out　of　the　mists　above　the　broad　waters　of

the　Loire；　like　some