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作者: Mary Shelley

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"This account rather alarmed us, and we continued to search for
him until night fell, when Elizabeth conjectured that he might
have returned to the house. He was not there. We returned again,
with torches; for I could not rest, when I thought that my sweet
boy had lost himself, and was exposed to all the damps and dews
of night; Elizabeth also suffered extreme anguish. About five in
the morning I discovered my lovely boy, whom the night before I
had seen blooming and active in health, stretched on the grass
livid and motionless; the print of the murder's finger was on his
neck.
"He was conveyed home, and the anguish that was visible in my
countenance betrayed the secret to Elizabeth. She was very
earnest to see the corpse. At first I attempted to prevent her
but she persisted, and entering the room where it lay, hastily
examined the neck of the victim, and clasping her hands
exclaimed, 'O God! I have murdered my darling child!'

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