It allays a feverish thirst， that had parched me for manydays. Now， dearest， let me sleep. My earthly senses areclosing over my spirit， like the leaves around the heart of arose， at sunset.”
She spoke the last words with a gentle reluctance， as ifit required almost more energy than she could commandto pronounce the faint and lingering syllables. Scarcelyhad they loitered through her lips， ere she was lost inslumber. Aylmer sat by her side， watching her aspect withthe emotions proper to a man， the whole value of whoseexistence was involved in the process now to be tested.
Mingled with this mood， however， was the philosophicinvestigation， characteristic of the man of science. Notthe minutest symptom escaped him. A heightened flush ofthe cheek—a slight irregularity of breath—a quiver of theeyelid—a hardly perceptible tremor through the frame—such were the details which， as the moments passed， hewrote down in his folio volume. Intense thought had setits stamp upon every previous page of that volume； butthe thoughts of years were all concentrated upon the last.
While thus employed， he failed not to gaze often atthe fatal Hand， and not without a shudder. Yet once， bya strange and unaccountable impulse， he pressed it withhis lips. His spirit recoiled， however， in the very act， andGeorgiana， out of the midst of her deep sleep， moveduneasily and murmured， as if in remonstrance. Again，Aylmer resumed his watch. Nor was it without avail. TheCrimson Hand， which at first had been strongly visibleupon the marble paleness of Georgiana’s cheek now grewmore faintly outlined. She remained not less pale thanever； but the birth-mark， with every breath that cameand went， lost somewhat of its former distinctness. Itspresence had been awful； its departure was more awfulstill. Watch the stain of the rainbow fading out of the sky；and you will know how that mysterious symbol passedaway.
“By Heaven， it is well nigh gone！” said Aylmer to himself，in almost irrepressible ecstasy. “I can scarcely trace itnow. Success！ Success！ And now it is like the faintest rosecolor.
The slightest flush of blood across her cheek wouldovercome it. But she is so pale！”
He drew aside the window-curtain， and suffered thelight of natural day to fall into the room， and rest upon hercheek. At the same time， he heard a gross， hoarse chuckle，which he had long known as his servant Aminadab’sexpression of delight.
“Ah， clod！ Ah， earthly mass！” cried Aylmer， laughing ina sort of frenzy. “You have served me well！ Master andSpirit—Earth and Heaven—have both done their part inthis！ Laugh， thing of the senses！ You have earned the rightto laugh.”
These exclamations broke Georgiana’s sleep. She slowlyunclosed her eyes， and gazed into the mirror， which herhusband had arranged for that purpose. A faint smileflitted over her lips， when she recognized how barelyperceptible was now that Crimson Hand， which had onceblazed forth with such disastrous brilliancy as to scareaway all their happiness. But then her eyes sought Aylmer’sface， with a trouble and anxiety that he could by no meansaccount for.
“My poor Aylmer！” murmured she.
“Poor？ Nay， richest！ Happiest！ Most favored！” exclaimedhe. “My peerless bride， it is successful！ You are perfect！”
“My poor Aylmer！” she repeated， with a more thanhuman tenderness. “You have aimed loftily！ —you havedone nobly！ Do not repent， that， with so high and pure afeeling， you have rejected the best the earth could offer.
Aylmer—dearest Aylmer—I am dying！”
Alas， it was too true！ The fatal Hand had grappled withthe mystery of life， and was the bond by which an angelicspirit kept itself in union with a mortal frame. As the lastcrimson tint of the birth-mark—that sole token of humanimperfection—faded from her cheek， the parting breathof the now perfect woman passed into the atmosphere，and her soul， lingering a moment near her husband， tookits heavenward flight. Then a hoarse， chuckling laugh washeard again！ Thus ever does the gross Fatality of Earthexult in its invariable triumph over the immortal essence，which， in this dim sphere of half-development， demandsthe completeness of a higher state. Yet， had Aylmerreached a profounder wisdom， he need not thus haveflung away the happiness， which would have woven hismortal life of the self-same texture with the celestial. Themomentary circumstance was too strong for him； he failedto look beyond the shadowy scope of Time， and livingonce for all in Eternity， to find the perfect Future in thepresent.
