Auriol; or, The Elixir of LifeAinsworth, William Harrison
Science
Auriol; or, The Elixir of Life
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Detective and mystery stories; Gothic fiction; Horror tales; Paranormal fiction
For several hours deep sleep, occasioned by some potent medicaments, had
bound up the senses of Auriol. On awaking, he found himself within a
cell, the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of which were of solid stone
masonry. In the midst of this chamber, and supporting the ponderous
roof, stood a massive granite pillar, the capital of which was
grotesquely ornamented with death's-heads and cross-bones, and against
this pillar leaned Auriol, with his left arm chained by heavy links of
iron to a ring in the adjoining wall. Beside him stood a pitcher of
water, and near him lay an antique-looking book, bound in black vellum.
The dungeon in which he was confined was circular in form, with a coved
roof, sustained by the pillar before mentioned, and was approached by a
steep flight of steps rising from a doorway, placed some six feet below
the level of the chamber, and surmounted by a pointed arch. A stream of
light, descending from a narrow aperture in the roof, fell upon his
wasted and haggard features. His dark-brown hair hung about his face in
elf-locks, his beard was untrimmed, and a fixed and stony glare like
that of insanity sat in his eye. He was seated on the ground--neither
bench nor stool being allowed him--with his hand supporting his chin.
His gaze was fixed upon vacancy--if that can he called vacancy which to
him was filled with vivid images. His garb was not that of modern times,
but consisted of a doublet and hose of rich material, wrought in the
fashion of Elizabeth's days.
After remaining for some time in this musing attitude, Auriol opened the
old tome before him, and began to turn over its leaves. It was full of
magical disquisitions and mysterious characters, and he found inscribed
on one of its earlier pages a name which instantly riveted his
attention. Having vainly sought some explanation of this name in the
after contents of the book, he laid it aside, and became lost in
meditation. His reverie ended, he heaved a deep sigh, and turned again
to the open volume lying before him, and in doing so his eye rested for
the first time on his habiliments. On beholding them he started, and
held out his arm to examine his sleeve more narrowly. Satisfied that he
was not deceived, he arose and examined himself from head to foot. He
found himself, as has been stated, attired in the garb of a gentleman of
Elizabeth's time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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