![]() ![]() “My dear Frankenstein,” exclaimed Henry, when he perceived me weep with bitterness, “are you always to be unhappy? My dear friend, what has happened?” I threw the letter on the table, and covered my face with my hands. Enter the house of mourning, my friend, but with kindness and affection for those who love you, and not with hatred for your enemies.Ĭlerval, who had watched my countenance as I read this letter, was surprised to observe the despair that succeeded to the joy I at first expressed on receiving news from my friends. “Come, Victor not brooding thoughts of vengeance against the assassin, but with feelings of peace and gentleness, that will heal, instead of festering the wounds of our minds. We are all unhappy but will not that be an additional motive for you, my son, to return and be our comforter? Your dear mother! Alas, Victor! I now say, Thank God she did not live to witness the cruel, miserable death of her youngest darling! ![]() ![]() She weeps continually, and accuses herself unjustly as the cause of his death her words pierce my heart. “Come, dearest Victor you alone can console Elizabeth. We have no trace of him at present, although our exertions to discover him are unremitted but they will not restore my beloved William. This picture is gone, and was doubtless the temptation which urged the murderer to the deed. ![]() She told me, that that same evening William had teazed her to let him wear a very valuable miniature that she possessed of your mother. When she again lived, it was only to weep and sigh. “She fainted, and was restored with extreme difficulty. At first I attempted to prevent her but she persisted, and entering the room where it lay, hastily examined the neck of the victim, and clasping her hands exclaimed, ‘O God! I have murdered my darling infant!’ “He was conveyed home, and the anguish that was visible in my countenance betrayed the secret to Elizabeth. About five in the morning I discovered my lovely boy, whom the night before I had seen blooming and active in health, stretched on the grass livid and motionless: the print of the murderer’s finger was on his neck. We returned again, with torches for I could not rest, when I thought that my sweet boy had lost himself, and was exposed to all the damps and dews of night: Elizabeth also suffered extreme anguish. “This account rather alarmed us, and we continued to search for him until night fell, when Elizabeth conjectured that he might have returned to the house. Presently Ernest came, and inquired if we had seen his brother: he said, that they had been playing together, that William had run away to hide himself, and that he vainly sought for him, and afterwards waited for him a long time, but that he did not return. We accordingly rested on a seat until they should return. It was already dusk before we thought of returning and then we discovered that William and Ernest, who had gone on before, were not to be found. The evening was warm and serene, and we prolonged our walk farther than usual. “Last Thursday (May 7th) I, my niece, and your two brothers, went to walk in Plainpalais. “I will not attempt to console you but will simply relate the circumstances of the transaction. “William is dead!-that sweet child, whose smiles delighted and warmed my heart, who was so gentle, yet so gay! Victor, he is murdered! What would be your surprise, my son, when you expected a happy and gay welcome, to behold, on the contrary, tears and wretchedness? And how, Victor, can I relate our misfortune? Absence cannot have rendered you callous to our joys and griefs and how shall I inflict pain on an absent child? I wish to prepare you for the woeful news, but I know it is impossible even now your eye skims over the page, to seek the words which are to convey to you the horrible tidings. But that would be a cruel kindness, and I dare not do it. “You have probably waited impatiently for a letter to fix the date of your return to us and I was at first tempted to write only a few lines, merely mentioning the day on which I should expect you. On my return, I found the following letter from my father:. Tragedy has again struck the Frankenstein family and upon his return to Geneva after six years away, Victor realizes he knows more about the tragic circumstances than he believed. Victor’s happiness in the company of Henry is short lived when Victor receives a letter from his father. Think: Why is Victor so sure that the creature is responsible for William’s death, and not the accused, Justine? ![]()
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