During the day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope
of night, for in sleep I saw my friends, my wife, and my beloved
country; again I saw the benevolent countenance of my father, heard the
silver tones of my Elizabeth's voice, and beheld Clerval enjoying
health and youth. Often, when wearied by a toilsome march, I persuaded
myself that I was dreaming until night should come and that I should
then enjoy reality in the arms of my dearest friends. What agonizing
fondness did I feel for them! How did I cling to their dear forms, as
sometimes they haunted even my waking hours, and persuade myself that
they still lived! At such moments vengeance, that burned within me,
died in my heart, and I pursued my path towards the destruction of the
daemon more as a task enjoined by heaven, as the mechanical impulse of
some power of which I was unconscious, than as the ardent desire of my
soul. What his feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes,
indeed, he left marks in writing on the barks of the trees or cut in
stone that guided me and instigated my fury. "My reign is not yet
over"--these words were legible in one of these inscriptions--"you
live, and my power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices
of the north, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost, to
which I am impassive. You will find near this place, if you follow not
too tardily, a dead hare; eat and be refreshed.
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