Mingled with this mood, however, was the philosophic investigation,
characteristic of the man of science. Not the minutest symptom escaped
him. A heightened flush of the cheek- a slight irregularity of breath-
a quiver of the eyelid- a hardly perceptible tremor through the frame-
such were the details which, as the moments passed, he wrote down in
his folio volume. Intense thought had set its stamp upon every
previous page of that volume; but the thoughts of years were all
concentrated upon the last.
While thus employed, he failed not to gaze often at the fatal Hand,
and not without a shudder. Yet once, by a strange and unaccountable
impulse, he pressed it with his lips. His spirit recoiled, however, in
the very act, and Georgiana, out of the midst of her deep sleep, moved
uneasily and murmured, as if in remonstrance. Again, Aylmer resumed
his watch. Nor was it without avail. The Crimson Hand, which at
first had been strongly visible upon the marble paleness of
Georgiana's cheek now grew more faintly outlined. She remained not
less pale than ever; but the birthmark, with every breath that came
and went, lost somewhat of its former distinctness. Its presence had
been awful; its departure was more awful still. Watch the stain of the
rainbow fading out of the sky; and you will know how that mysterious
symbol passed away.
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