many appalling hours passed; several of
my dogs died, and I myself was about to sink under the accumulation of
distress when I saw your vessel riding at anchor and holding forth to
me hopes of succour and life. I had no conception that vessels ever
came so far north and was astounded at the sight. I quickly destroyed
part of my sledge to construct oars, and by these means was enabled,
with infinite fatigue, to move my ice raft in the direction of your
ship. I had determined, if you were going southwards, still to trust
myself to the mercy of the seas rather than abandon my purpose. I
hoped to induce you to grant me a boat with which I could pursue my
enemy. But your direction was northwards. You took me on board when
my vigour was exhausted, and I should soon have sunk under my
multiplied hardships into a death which I still dread, for my task is
unfulfilled.

Oh! When will my guiding spirit, in conducting me to the daemon, allow
me the rest I so much desire; or must I die, and he yet live? If I do,
swear to me, Walton, that he shall not escape, that you will seek him
and satisfy my vengeance in his death. And do I dare to ask of you to
undertake my pilgrimage, to endure the hardships that I have undergone?
No; I am not so selfish. Yet, when I am dead, if he should appear, if
the ministers of vengeance should conduct him to you, swear that he
shall not live--swear that he shall not triumph over my accumulated
woes and survive to add to the list of his dark crimes. He is eloquent
and persuasive, and once his words had even power over my heart; but
trust him not. His soul is as hellish as his form, full of treachery
and fiend-like malice. Hear him not; call on the names of William,
Justine, Clerval, Elizabeth, my father, and of the wretched Victor, and
thrust your sword into his heart. I will hover near and direct the
steel aright.

Walton, in continuation.

August 26th, 17--

You have read this strange and terrific story, Margaret; and do you not
feel your blood congeal with horror, like that which even now curdles
mine? Sometimes, seized with sudden agony, he could not continue his
tale; at others, his voice broken, yet piercing, uttered with
difficulty the words so replete with anguish. His fine and lovely eyes
were now lighted up with indignation, now subdued to downcast sorrow
and quenched in infinite wretchedness. Sometimes