CHAPTER VIII.
We passed a few sad hours, until eleven o'clock, when the trial was tocommence. My father and the rest of the family being obliged to attendas witnesses, I accompanied them to the court. During the whole of thiswretched mockery of justice I suffered living torture. It was to bedecided, whether the result of my curiosity and lawless devices wouldcause the death of two of my fellow-beings: one a smiling babe, full ofinnocence and joy; the other far more dreadfully murdered, with everyaggravation of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror.Justine also was a girl of merit, and possessed qualities which promisedto render her life happy: now all was to be obliterated in anignominious grave; and I the cause! A thousand times rather would I haveconfessed myself guilty of the crime ascribed to Justine; but I wasabsent when it was committed, and such a declaration would have beenconsidered as the ravings of a madman, and would not have exculpated herwho suffered through me.
The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning; and hercountenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of herfeelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident ininnocence, and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated bythousands; for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise haveexcited, was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by theimagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She wastranquil, yet her tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as herconfusion had before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she worked upher mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the court, shethrew her eyes round it, and quickly discovered where we were seated. Atear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us; but she quickly recoveredherself, and a look of sorrowful affection seemed to attest her utterguiltlessness.
The trial began; and, after the advocate against her had stated thecharge, several witnesses were called. Several strange facts combinedagainst her, which might have staggered any one who had not such proofof her innocence as I had. She had been out the whole of the night onwhich the murder had been committed, and towards morning had beenperceived by a market-woman not far from the spot where the body of themurdered child had been afterwards found. The woman asked her what shedid there; but she looked very strangely, and only returned a confusedand unintelligible answer. She returned to the house about eighto'clock; and, when one enquired where she had passed the night, shereplied that she had been looking for the child, and demanded earnestlyif any thing had been heard concerning him. When shown the body, shefell into violent hysterics, and kept her bed for several days. Thepicture was then produced, which the servant had found in her pocket;and when Elizabeth, in a faltering voice, proved that it was the samewhich, an hour before the child had been missed, she had placed roundhis neck, a murmur of horror and indignation filled the court.
Justine was called on for her defence. As the trial had proceeded, hercountenance had altered. Surprise, horror, and misery were stronglyexpressed. Sometimes she struggled with her tears; but, when she wasdesired to plead, she collected her powers, and spoke, in an audible,although variable voice.
"God knows," she said, "how entirely I am innocent. But I do not pretendthat my protestations should acquit me: I rest my innocence on a plainand simple explanation of the facts which have been adduced against me;and I hope the character I have always borne will incline my judges to afavourable interpretation, where any circumstance appears doubtful orsuspicious."
She then related that, by the permission of Elizabeth, she had passedthe evening of the night on which the murder had been committed at thehouse of an aunt at Chene, a village situated at about a league fromGeneva. On her return, at about nine o'clock, she met a man, who askedher if she had seen any thing of the child who was lost. She was alarmedby this account, and passed several hours in looking for him, when thegates of Geneva were shut, and she was forced to remain several hours ofthe night in a barn belonging to a cottage, being unwilling to call upthe inhabitants, to whom she was well known. Most of the night she spenthere watching; towards morning she believed that she slept for a fewminutes; some steps disturbed her, and she awoke. It was dawn, and shequitted her asylum, that she might again endeavour to find my brother.If she had gone near the spot where his body lay, it was without herknowledge. That she had been bewildered when questioned by themarket-woman was not surprising, since she had passed a sleepless night,and the fate of poor William was yet uncertain. Concerning the pictureshe could give no account.
"I know," continued the unhappy victim, "how heavily and fatally thisone circumstance weighs against me, but I have no power of explainingit; and when I have expressed my utter ignorance, I am only left toconjecture concerning the probabilities by which it might have beenplaced in my pocket. But here also I am checked. I believe that I haveno enemy on earth, and none surely would have been so wicked as todestroy me wantonly. Did the murderer place it there? I know of noopportunity afforded him for so doing; or, if I had, why should he havestolen the jewel, to part with it again so soon?
"I commit my cause to the justice of my judges, yet I see no room forhope. I beg permission to have a few witnesses examined concerning mycharacter; and if their testimony shall not overweigh my supposed guilt,I must be condemned, although I would pledge my salvation on myinnocence."
Several witnesses were called, who had known her for many years, andthey spoke well of her; but fear, and hatred of the crime of which theysupposed her guilty, rendered them timorous, and unwilling to comeforward. Elizabeth saw even this last resource, her excellentdispositions and irreproachable conduct, about to fail the accused,when, although violently agitated, she desired permission to address thecourt.
"I am," said she, "the cousin of the unhappy child who was murdered, orrather his sister, for I was educated by, and have lived with hisparents ever since and even long before, his birth. It may therefore bejudged indecent in me to come forward on this occasion; but when I see afellow-creature about to perish through the cowardice of her pretendedfriends, I wish to be allowed to speak, that I may say what I know ofher character. I am well acquainted with the accused. I have lived inthe same house with her, at one time for five, and at another for nearlytwo years. During all that period she appeared to me the most amiableand benevolent of human creatures. She nursed Madame Frankenstein, myaunt, in her last illness, with the greatest affection and care; andafterwards attended her own mother during a tedious illness, in a mannerthat excited the admiration of all who knew her; after which she againlived in my uncle's house, where she was beloved by all the family. Shewas warmly attached to the child who is now dead, and acted towards himlike a most affectionate mother. For my own part, I do not hesitate tosay, that, notwithstanding all the evidence produced against her, Ibelieve and rely on her perfect innocence. She had no temptation forsuch an action: as to the bauble on which the chief proof rests, if shehad earnestly desired it, I should have willingly given it to her; somuch do I esteem and value her."
A murmur of approbation followed Elizabeth's simple and powerful appeal;but it was excited by her generous interference, and not in favour ofpoor Justine, on whom the public indignation was turned with renewedviolence, charging her with the blackest ingratitude. She herself weptas Elizabeth spoke, but she did not answer. My own agitation and anguishwas extreme during the whole trial. I believed in her innocence; I knewit. Could the daemon, who had (I did not for a minute doubt) murdered mybrother, also in his hellish sport have betrayed the innocent to deathand ignominy? I could not sustain the horror of my situation; and when Iperceived that the popular voice, and the countenances of the judges,had already condemned my unhappy victim, I rushed out of the court inagony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustainedby innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom, and would notforego their hold.
I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to thecourt; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatalquestion; but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of myvisit. The ballots had bee
n thrown; they were all black, and Justine wascondemned.
I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before experiencedsensations of horror; and I have endeavoured to bestow upon themadequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of theheart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom Iaddressed myself added, that Justine had already confessed her guilt."That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a case,but I am glad of it; and, indeed, none of our judges like to condemn acriminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so decisive."
This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had myeyes deceived me? and was I really as mad as the whole world wouldbelieve me to be, if I disclosed the object of my suspicions? I hastenedto return home, and Elizabeth eagerly demanded the result.
"My cousin," replied I, "it is decided as you may have expected; alljudges had rather that ten innocent should suffer, than that one guiltyshould escape. But she has confessed."
This was a dire blow to poor Elizabeth, who had relied with firmnessupon Justine's innocence. "Alas!" said she, "how shall I ever againbelieve in human goodness? Justine, whom I loved and esteemed as mysister, how could she put on those smiles of innocence only to betray?her mild eyes seemed incapable of any severity or guile, and yet she hascommitted a murder."
Soon after we heard that the poor victim had expressed a desire to seemy cousin. My father wished her not to go; but said, that he left it toher own judgment and feelings to decide. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "I willgo, although she is guilty; and you, Victor, shall accompany me: Icannot go alone." The idea of this visit was torture to me, yet I couldnot refuse.
We entered the gloomy prison-chamber, and beheld Justine sitting on somestraw at the farther end; her hands were manacled, and her head restedon her knees. She rose on seeing us enter; and when we were left alonewith her, she threw herself at the feet of Elizabeth, weeping bitterly.My cousin wept also.
"Oh, Justine!" said she, "why did you rob me of my last consolation? Irelied on your innocence; and although I was then very wretched, I wasnot so miserable as I am now."
"And do you also believe that I am so very, very wicked? Do you alsojoin with my enemies to crush me, to condemn me as a murderer?" Hervoice was suffocated with sobs.
"Rise, my poor girl," said Elizabeth, "why do you kneel, if you areinnocent? I am not one of your enemies; I believed you guiltless,notwithstanding every evidence, until I heard that you had yourselfdeclared your guilt. That report, you say, is false; and be assured,dear Justine, that nothing can shake my confidence in you for a moment,but your own confession."
"I did confess; but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might obtainabsolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than all myother sins. The God of heaven forgive me! Ever since I was condemned, myconfessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, until I almostbegan to think that I was the monster that he said I was. He threatenedexcommunication and hell fire in my last moments, if I continuedobdurate. Dear lady, I had none to support me; all looked on me as awretch doomed to ignominy and perdition. What could I do? In an evilhour I subscribed to a lie; and now only am I truly miserable."
She paused, weeping, and then continued--"I thought with horror, mysweet lady, that you should believe your Justine, whom your blessed aunthad so highly honoured, and whom you loved, was a creature capable of acrime which none but the devil himself could have perpetrated. DearWilliam! dearest blessed child! I soon shall see you again in heaven,where we shall all be happy; and that consoles me, going as I am tosuffer ignominy and death."
"Oh, Justine! forgive me for having for one moment distrusted you. Whydid you confess? But do not mourn, dear girl. Do not fear. I willproclaim, I will prove your innocence. I will melt the stony hearts ofyour enemies by my tears and prayers. You shall not die!--You, myplay-fellow, my companion, my sister, perish on the scaffold! No! no! Inever could survive so horrible a misfortune."
Justine shook her head mournfully. "I do now not fear to die," she said;"that pang is past. God raises my weakness, and gives me courage toendure the worst. I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you rememberme, and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to thefate awaiting me. Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to thewill of Heaven!"
During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison-room,where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! Whodared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass theawful boundary between life and death, felt not as I did, such deep andbitter agony. I gnashed my teeth, and ground them together, uttering agroan that came from my inmost soul. Justine started. When she saw whoit was, she approached me, and said, "Dear sir, you are very kind tovisit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?"
I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more convincedof your innocence than I was; for even when he heard that you hadconfessed, he did not credit it."
"I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest gratitudetowards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is the affectionof others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than half mymisfortune; and I feel as if I could die in peace, now that my innocenceis acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin."
Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeedgained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt thenever-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope orconsolation. Elizabeth also wept, and was unhappy; but her's also wasthe misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fairmoon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish anddespair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell withinme, which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours withJustine; and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tearherself away. "I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; Icannot live in this world of misery."
Justine assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficultyrepressed her bitter tears. She embraced Elizabeth, and said, in a voiceof half-suppressed emotion, "Farewell, sweet lady, dearest Elizabeth, mybeloved and only friend; may Heaven, in its bounty, bless and preserveyou; may this be the last misfortune that you will ever suffer! Live,and be happy, and make others so."
And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquencefailed to move the judges from their settled conviction in thecriminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant appealswere lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers, and heardthe harsh unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed avowal died awayon my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, but not revoke thesentence passed upon my wretched victim. She perished on the scaffold asa murderess!
From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep andvoiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my father'swoe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home--all was the workof my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones; but these are notyour last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and the soundof your lamentations shall again and again be heard! Frankenstein, yourson, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he who would spendeach vital drop of blood for your sakes--who has no thought nor sense ofjoy, except as it is mirrored also in your dear countenances--who wouldfill the air with blessings, and spend his life in serving you--he bidsyou weep--to shed countless tears; happy beyond his hopes, if thusinexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction pause before thepeace of the grave have succeeded to your sad torments!
Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair,I beheld those I loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William andJustine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts.