When I looked down at the body, fearful of what I might see, I observed that the expression of horror had disappeared and that the young man’s visage seemed entirely at peace.
Had that terrible cry released his suffering? If it were possible that the agony and horror of his last moments had somehow been confined within his body, then it was also possible that the shock of the electrical fluid had expelled the suffering spirit-or soul-I know not the word for such a momentous change. Could the corpse have been literally suffering its last agony until it was released by my agency? And then I was struck by a further revelation. The vocal cords had survived death.
I embarked upon other electrical experiments with the two subjects, and there were at first no further arousals. It appeared to me that the bodies, having performed their final delayed actions, had relapsed into stillness. Yet I could be certain of nothing. I took a large surgical knife and proceeded to remove the frontal bone of the cranium from the head of the second subject; then, with a compact saw, I cut away the uppermost portion of the dome until I could observe the anterior and posterior lobes of the cranium. The most absurd image then occurred to me-that of slicing the pie-crust from the pie-but I was so intent upon my work that I scarcely had time for any reflections. I then prepared an experiment that I had previously sketched out in my written notes. I placed strips of zinc and brass over the exposed skull, so that they touched the lobes. Then I applied the charge. The effect upon the brain was immediate; of the four lobes, only one seemed able to receive the delicate impress of the electrical current, and I have since named it the electric lobe. It had an immediate effect on the muscles of the body that, if it had not been strapped down, might have been tempted to rise up and walk. The whole frame was invaded by a violent trembling that, as I was astonished to discover, continued for several minutes after I had turned off the current.
To my utmost surprise and horror I then began to observe some contortions of the face. The eyes rolled, and the lips parted; the nostrils flared, and the entire expression seemed to be one of enmity mixed with despair. These were of course the accidents of physiognomy, but at that moment I could have sworn that the corpse strapped to the table was displaying to me all the viciousness of hatred and all the burden of melancholy desolation. Eventually the movements ceased and the face resumed its lifeless shape. But I was so shaken by the phenomenon that I was obliged to walk out beside the river in order to calm myself.
So many impressions crowded in upon me that the night seemed to stretch into infinity. I had never anticipated that the effects of the electrical fluid would take so profound and terrifying a form. I had proved beyond doubt that the fluid could reanimate a human corpse, but in so unexpected and awful a fashion that I had become afraid of my own handiwork. I had become afraid of myself, so to speak, afraid of what I might accomplish and afraid of what I might witness. What other secrets might be revealed to me, as I pursued my strange experiment?
A little reflection, however, brought me to my senses. The murmur of the Thames soothed me. The mist had lifted, and the outlines of the city became apparent. It was close to dawn. I had worked all night. The round of existence would soon begin anew and, with the feeling of the immensity of London coming to life, my own strength was resumed and confirmed. There was much for me to do.
10
I WAS DOZING BY THE FIRESIDE, in my apartments at Jermyn Street, when I was roused by a sudden rapping at the street door. I scarcely had time to prepare myself when Fred came into the room. “Ever so much beg your pardon, sir, but there is a Fish to see you.”
“Whatever are you saying, Fred?”
“That’s what I asked him, sir. But he kept on saying, ‘Fish, Fish.’ I told him we had a fishmonger just down the street.”
At that moment Bysshe rushed into the room, bursting past Fred and embracing me with all the fervour and animation I remembered.
“My dear fellow,” I said, “I thought you were living in the North.”
“I have returned to warmer climes, Victor. To my friends.” He stepped back and looked at me. “Are you angry with me?”
“I was. Yes. I admit. Very. But now that I see you, I cannot be angry.”
“I am glad of it. You know, Victor, I can return the fifty guineas. My dreaded father has paid my allowance.”
“No need. No need at all.”
He resumed his gaze at me for a moment. “Why did you not write to me that you were ill?”
“ Ill? I have never felt better in my life. I am in perfect health.” He seemed perplexed. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Bysshe.”
“There is a change in your countenance, Victor. I cannot be deceived in that.”
“Well. Youth turns to age. Think no more of it.” I tried to remain cheerful and composed. “Where are you staying in London?”
“Harriet and I have found rooms in Soho. Back to our old haunts, Victor.”
“And how is Harriet?”
“She is well. She is thriving.” He laughed. “She is swelling in the most peculiar manner.”
“Do you mean-?” He nodded. “Very well done, Bysshe!”
“I am not the one to be congratulated. It is the woman who carries the burden. But I must confess to some pride in creating life.”
“It must be an exhilarating sensation.”
“I am reciting poetry to the unborn babe, Victor, so that in the womb it will become accustomed to sweet sounds. And Harriet sings lullabies. She swears that it soothes the child.”
Fred knocked upon the door, and entered the room with a flask of brandy spirit. “It has struck five,” he said.
Bysshe looked at the liquor in surprise. “You drink brandy now, Victor?”
“It soothes the child. Will you join me? We will raise a glass to companionship.”
Bysshe was eager to explain his schemes of future happiness. He wished to start a little community in Wales devoted to the principles of equality and justice; he was intent upon writing an epic poem on the subject of the legendary Arthur; he wished to travel to Ireland to assist in the project for freedom. I understood that he had found a new favourite in Mr. Godwin, the philosopher. He had sought him out, and had already visited him in a charming house in Somers Town. Then once more he gave me a quick, watchful glance. “And you, Victor, what is your news?”
“I am experimenting still. I am testing the capacity of the electrical fluid. I am measuring its strength.”
“Wonderful! You are going to its limits, as we used to discuss?”
“I remember that we used to speak of electrical kites and balloons. I am not so much in the air now, Bysshe. I am in the earth.” I had no desire to explain my work, until it had reached a successful conclusion, and so I discussed with him the generalities of electrical science. He was as impetuous, and as eager to learn, as he had always been. I had never encountered anyone who was so filled with animated and spirited life.
“You will come and visit us then?” he asked me as he was about to take his leave. “Harriet will be overjoyed to see you.”
“Of course. Whenever you wish.”
He embraced me, and a few moments later I heard his light rapid steps upon the stairs. I heard him speaking to Fred, but could not understand what he said. I went to the window and looked down into Jermyn Street; he was walking quickly through the throng, but then he glanced up at my window. For some reason I stepped back.
Fred came in to clear away the glasses. “That friend of yours,” he said, “is curious enough. He asked me if you were in good health. I say yes. He asked if you were eating well. I say yes. He asked if you was drinking. I say yes and no. Then he opens the door for himself, although I was right behind him, and then he rushes out like a squib.”