It was not alone, but in its shadowy hand it
held another hand.
And whose was that? Was the form that stood beside it indeed
Milly's, or but her shade and picture? The quiet head was bent a
little, as her manner was, and her eyes were looking down, as if in
pity, on the sleeping child. A radiant light fell on her face, but
did not touch the Phantom; for, though close beside her, it was
dark and colourless as ever.
"Spectre!" said the Chemist, newly troubled as he looked, "I have
not been stubborn or presumptuous in respect of her. Oh, do not
bring her here. Spare me that!"
"This is but a shadow," said the Phantom; "when the morning shines
seek out the reality whose image I present before you."
"Is it my inexorable doom to do so?" cried the Chemist.
"It is," replied the Phantom.
"To destroy her peace, her goodness; to make her what I am myself,
and what I have made of others!"
"I have said seek her out," returned the Phantom. "I have said no
more."
"Oh, tell me," exclaimed Redlaw, catching at the hope which he
fancied might lie hidden in the words. "Can I undo what I have
done?"
"No," returned the Phantom.
"I do not ask for restoration to myself," said Redlaw. "What I
abandoned, I abandoned of my own free will, and have justly lost.
But for those to whom I have transferred the fatal gift; who never
sought it; who unknowingly received a curse of which they had no
warning, and which they had no power to shun; can I do nothing?"
"Nothing," said the Phantom.
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