he had uttered to me on board the steam-boat. But now, these words seemed to mean very little, although at the time they were spoken they appeared to me to be uttered with all the depth and feeling of his heart. I can only account for this change and deadening of perception on my part, by the strange effect of the man’s conversation and manners upon me, when in his company. He seemed so utterly bound up in, and carried away by, our grand pursuit, that I could not disunite him from it. He appeared to be almost part of my own mind,—so congenial was he to my tastes, desires and hopes. Singular as it may appear, although I feared and distrusted him, I felt I could not separate myself from him.
On the next day Antonio and I were deep in our chemical researches. Every fresh experiment and every result called forth my wonder and delight, and the time passed over rapidly. Days succeeded days, and we became more and more devoted to our tasks.
Engaged as we were thus constantly, it would have appeared strange if I had not asked my companion to spend a few of his leisure hours in my house. I often did so, but he as often declined. He remained in the laboratory all day, usually arriving before me in the morning, and often remaining till late in the day.
During this time, although I felt I was absenting myself too much from my young wife’s company,—and although I struggled hard to overcome it,—I felt I was drawn towards my colleague by a sympathy and attraction too powerful to resist.
At length we had our arrangements so far completed that we determined to make a decisive trial of the reality of our projects. We failed signally. Antonio laid the entire blame on our not having devoted sufficient time and attention to the work. This was disheartening to me, for I had bestowed every available moment on it, and had had many a heart-ache in consequence; for I knew that all day long Louisa was alone, and pining at my absence. He noticed my look of discomfiture, and with his diabolical laugh he taunted me with growing tired of my hobby,—of being palled with my own enthusiasm. I could not bear his sneers, I writhed under them. I insisted upon recommencing our labours at once, and declared that not one moment should be wasted by me, and that if necessary I would watch and work night and day in order to secure my long dreamed-of desire.
I think I see him now, as I spoke in my enthusiasm, with his cold cruel smile and his glittering black eyes fixed upon me. Why did I not fell him to the earth then and there? Why did I listen for a moment to his smooth-tongued words, that now, molten hot, are searing into my inmost soul?
We commenced our work afresh with more assiduity and application than ever. My thoughts and imagination were so carried away by our plans that,—I am almost ashamed to write it,—I seldom, if ever, thought of my young wife.
My colleague, as the time passed on, very rarely left the laboratory,—encasing himself in his ample cloak he would take his rest hurriedly, either in the study, or on the floor outside of the furnace doors.
Louisa, who had begun to look pale and ill, at length spoke to me about my apparent neglect. I tried to excuse my conduct, but failed; and she entreated me so earnestly that she might at all events be allowed to come into the laboratory with me during my work, that I at last consented.
I spoke to Maffi on the subject, but he scarcely made any remark,—only observing, in an under tone, that he did not think a laboratory a suitable place for a lady.
However, during the day, as he saw me trying to make the room a little more orderly,—arranging a work-table with flowers, and placing a couch by the window overlooking the garden,—I thought I saw him, once or twice, look up from his work stealthily, with his deadly smile.
The next day Louisa came down with me, and remained for the most part of the day. It was a pleasant relief to me, at times, to turn my eyes from the smoke and gloom of the furnaces to the bright little form of my wife, as she sat reading or working at the window. Whenever I looked towards her she met me with a pleasant smile. All the while Antonio Maffi worked on, scarcely ever raising his head.
At length we made our arrangements so complete that we once more determined to make the great attempt. Assiduous as we had been before, we now doubled our assiduity. I only snatched a few hours’ rest now and then. One of us was always awake. The boiling over of a crucible, or the fracture of a retort was liable to throw us back in the ground we had gained; therefore we were always on the alert. My wife hovered ever in or near the room, like a ray of sunlight through the storm-clouds of my anxiety.
The decisive night at last arrived. Louisa, seeing my troubled expression, begged she might be allowed to stay with me. I wished her to retire to the house, but she entreated me to grant her this favour. She made her request so touchingly,—I could not bear to see the tears in her deep, brown eyes,—that I consented. As I did so, I glanced at the Italian. Although he was busily engaged, to all appearances, I found he was regarding us with a deep scowl of—what appeared to me—malignant satisfaction. He cast down his eyes, however, as he met mine, warning me coldly that there was no time to lose.
He had never yet spoken to my wife since she had commenced her visits to us. He merely bowed politely when she entered or left the room. This line of conduct was on the whole, I think, satisfactory both to Louisa and myself.
Cautiously and resolutely, then, Maffi and I began our final experiments, my wife sitting at the table, by the lamp, reading.
There was a small chafing-dish, containing spirits of wine, which stood on a raised tripod, in the middle of the apartment, and which we used occasionally, when we wanted a very subdued light.
We had been working for some time in silence, when it was found necessary to use this chafing-dish. I lighted the spirits of wine, and walking