But upon the back
of his head was another face, that of a beautiful girl, 'lovely
as a dream, hideous as a devil.' The female face was a mere mask,
'occupying only a small portion of the posterior part of the
skull, yet exhibiting every sign of intelligence, of a malignant
sort, however.' It would be seen to smile and sneer while Mordake
was weeping. The eyes would follow the movements of the
spectator, and the lips would 'gibber without ceasing.' No voice
was audible, but Mordake avers that he was kept from his rest at
night by the hateful whispers of his 'devil twin,' as he called
it, 'which never sleeps, but talks to me forever of such things
as they only speak of in hell. No imagination can conceive the
dreadful temptations it sets before me. For some unforgiven
wickedness of my forefathers I am knit to this fiend--for a fiend
it surely is. I beg and beseech you to crush it out of human
semblance, even if I die for it.' Such were the words of the
hapless Mordake to Manvers and Treadwell, his physicians. In
spite of careful watching he managed to procure poison, whereof
he died, leaving a letter requesting that the 'demon face' might
be destroyed before his burial, 'lest it continues its dreadful
whisperings in my grave.
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