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Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY KIERSTEN WHITE
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part One: How Can I Live Without Thee?
  6. Chapter One: To Be Weak Is Miserable
  7. Chapter Two: What Hath Night to Do with Sleep?
  8. Chapter Three: In Wandering Mazes Lost
  9. Chapter Four: Half Lost, I Seek
  10. Chapter Five: With Purpose to Explore or to Disturb
  11. Chapter Six: Round He Throws His Baleful Eyes
  12. Chapter Seven: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
  13. Chapter Eight: Horror and Doubt Distract His Troubled Thoughts
  14. Chapter Nine: This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light
  15. Chapter Ten: To Lose Thee Were to Lose Myself
  16. Chapter Eleven: When from Sleep I First Awaked
  17. Part Two: What Is Dark Within Me, Illumine
  18. Chapter Twelve: At Once Indebted and Discharged
  19. Chapter Thirteen: That All This Good of Evil Shall Produce
  20. Chapter Fourteen: What Can We Suffer Worse?
  21. Chapter Fifteen: Love or Hate, to Me Alike
  22. Chapter Sixteen: So Farewell Hope
  23. Part Three: Long Is the Way and Hard, That Out of Hell Leads Up to Light
  24. Chapter Seventeen: Which Way Shall I Fly
  25. Chapter Eighteen: His Dark Materials to Create More Worlds
  26. Chapter Nineteen: Should God Create Another Eve
  27. Chapter Twenty: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of My Bone
  28. Chapter Twenty-one: Him Whom to Love Is to Obey
  29. Chapter Twenty-two: Hail Horrors, Hail Infernal World
  30. Chapter Twenty-three: So Shall the World Go on, to Good Malignant, to Bad Men Benign
  31. Chapter Twenty-four: And Study of Revenge, Immortal Hate
  32. Chapter Twenty-five: Did I Request Thee, Maker, from My Clay, to Mold Me Man?
  33. Chapter Twenty-six: Which Way Shall I Fly
  34. Chapter Twenty-seven: That Must Be Our Cure: To Be No More
  35. Epilogue: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
  36. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  37. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  38. Excerpt from The Guinevere Deception
  39. About the Author
  40. TEACHER GUIDE, ARRANGED BY THEME
  41. Frankenstein
  42. Author’s Introduction
  43. Preface
  44. Chapter I
  45. Chapter II
  46. Chapter III
  47. Chapter IV
  48. Chapter V
  49. Chapter VI
  50. Chapter VII
  51. Chapter VIII
  52. Chapter IX
  53. Chapter X
  54. Chapter XI
  55. Chapter XII
  56. Chapter XIII
  57. Chapter XIV
  58. Chapter XV
  59. Chapter XVI
  60. Chapter XVII
  61. Chapter XVIII
  62. Chapter XIX
  63. Chapter XX
  64. Chapter XXI
  65. Chapter XXII
  66. Chapter XXIII
  67. Chapter XXIV
  68. About The Modern Library
  69. What’s next onyour reading list?

We had scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and conceived an affection for some of the inhabitants, when the period of our appointment with our Scotch friend approached, and we left them to travel on. For my own part I was not sorry. I had now neglected my promise for some time, and I feared the effects of the daemon’s disappointment. He might remain in Switzerland, and wreak his vengeance on my relatives. This idea pursued me, and tormented me at every moment from which I might otherwise have snatched repose and peace. I waited for my letters with feverish impatience: if they were delayed, I was miserable, and overcome by a thousand fears; and when they arrived, and I saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to read and ascertain my fate. Sometimes I thought that the fiend followed me, and might expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. When these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but followed him us his shadow, to protect him from the fancied rage of his destroyer. I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal as that of crime.

I visited Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind; and yet that city might have interested the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so well as Oxford: for the antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing to him. But the beauty and regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, its romantic castle, and its environs, the most delightful in the world, Arthur’s Seat, St. Bernard’s Well, and the Pentland Hills, compensated him for the change, and filled him with cheerfulness and admiration. But I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey.

We left Edinburgh in a week, passing through Coupar, St. Andrew’s, and along the banks of the Tay, to Perth, where our friend expected us. But I was in no mood to laugh and talk with strangers, or enter into their feelings or plans with the good humour expected from a guest; and accordingly I told Clerval that I wished to make the tour of Scotland alone. “Do you,” said I, “enjoy yourself, and let this be our rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two; but do not interfere with my motions, I entreat you: leave me to peace and solitude for a short time; and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart, more congenial to your own temper.”