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seem to have strength to speak, so for a while we were all silent.
Then Van Helsing beckoned to me, and we went gently out of the
room. The instant we had closed the door he stepped quickly along
the passage to the next door, which was open. Then he pulled me
quickly in with him and closed the door. "My god!" he said. "This
is dreadful. There is not time to be lost. She will die for sheer
want of blood to keep the heart's action as it should be. There
must be a transfusion of blood at once. Is it you or me?"
"I am younger and stronger, Professor. It must be me."
"Then get ready at once. I will bring up my bag. I am
prepared."
I went downstairs with him, and as we were going there was a
knock at the hall door. When we reached the hall, the maid had just
opened the door, and Arthur was stepping quickly in. He rushed up
to me, saying in an eager whisper,
"Jack, I was so anxious. I read between the lines of your
letter, and have been in an agony. The dad was better, so I ran
down here to see for myself. Is not that gentleman Dr. Van Helsing?
I am so thankful to you, sir, for coming."
When first the Professor's eye had lit upon him, he had been
angry at his interruption at such a time, but now, as he took in
his stalwart proportions and recognized the strong young manhood
which seemed to emanate from him, his eyes gleamed. Without a pause
he said to him as he held out his hand,
"Sir, you have come in time. You are the lover of our dear miss.
She is bad, very, very bad. Nay, my child, do not go like that."For
he suddenly grew pale and sat down in a chair almost fainting. "You
are to help her. You can do more than any that live, and your
courage is your best help."
"What can I do?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me, and I shall do
it. My life is hers' and I would give the last drop of blood in my
body for her."
The Professor has a strongly humorous side, and I could from old
knowledge detect a trace of its origin in his answer.
"My young sir, I do not ask so much as that, not the last!""My young sir, I do not ask so much as that, not the last!"
"What shall I do?" There was fire in his eyes, and his open
nostrils quivered with intent. Van Helsing slapped him on the
shoulder.
"Come!" he said. "You are a man, and it is a man we want. You
are better than me, better than my friend John." Arthur looked
bewildered, and the Professor went on by explaining in a kindly
way.
"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she
must have or die. My friend John and I have consulted, and we are
about to perform what we call transfusion of blood, to transfer
from full veins of one to the empty veins which pine for him. John
was to give his blood, as he is the more young and strong than
me."—Here Arthur took my hand and wrung it hard in silence.—"But
now you are here, you are more good than us, old or young, who toil
much in the world of thought. Our nerves are not so calm and our
blood so bright than yours!"
Arthur turned to him and said, "If you only knew how gladly I
would die for her you would understand … " He stopped with a
sort of choke in his voice.
"Good boy!" said Van Helsing. "In the not-so-far-off you will be
happy that you have done all for her you love. Come now and be
silent. You shall kiss her once before it is done, but then you
must go, and you must leave at my sign. Say no word to Madame. You
know how it is with her. There must be no shock, any knowledge of
this would be one. Come!"
We all went up to Lucy's room. Arthur by direction remained
outside. Lucy turned her head and looked at us, but said nothing.
She was not asleep, but she was simply too weak to make the effort.
Her eyes spoke to us, that was all.
Van Helsing took some things from his bag and laid them on a
little table out of sight. Then he mixed a narcotic, and coming
over to the bed, said cheerily, "Now, little miss, here is your
medicine. Drink it off, like a good child. See, I lift you so that
to swallow is easy. Yes." She had made the effort with success.to swallow is easy. Yes." She had made the effort with success.
It astonished me how long the drug took to act. This, in fact,
marked the extent of her weakness. The time seemed endless until
sleep began to flicker in her eyelids. At last, however, the
narcotic began to manifest its potency, and she fell into a deep
sleep. When the Professor was satisfied, he called Arthur into the
room, and bade him strip off his coat. Then he added, "You may take
that one little kiss whiles I bring over the table. Friend John,
help to me!" So neither of us looked whilst he bent over her.
Van Helsing, turning to me, said, "He is so young and strong,
and of blood so pure that we need not defibrinate it."
Then with swiftness, but with absolute method, Van Helsing
performed the operation. As the transfusion went on, something like
life seemed to come back to poor Lucy's cheeks, and through
Arthur's growing pallor the joy of his face seemed absolutely to
shine. After a bit I began to grow anxious, for the loss of blood
was telling on Arthur, strong man as he was. It gave me an idea of
what a terrible strain Lucy's system must have undergone that what
weakened Arthur only partially restored her.
But the Professor's face was set, and he stood watch in hand,
and with his eyes fixed now on the patient and now on Arthur. I
could hear my own heart beat. Presently, he said in a soft voice,
"Do not stir an instant. It is enough. You attend him. I will look
to her."
When all was over, I could see how much Arthur was weakened. I
dressed the wound and took his arm to bring him away, when Van
Helsing spoke without turning round, the man seems to have eyes in
the back of his head,"The brave lover, I think, deserve another
kiss, which he shall have presently." And as he had now finished
his operation, he adjusted the pillow to the patient's head. As he
did so the narrow black velvet band which she seems always to wear
round her throat, buckled with an old diamond buckle which her |
round her throat, buckled with an old diamond buckle which her
lover had given her, was dragged a little up, and showed a red mark
on her throat.
Arthur did not notice it, but I could hear the deep hiss of
indrawn breath which is one of Van Helsing's ways of betraying
emotion. He said nothing at the moment, but turned to me, saying,
"Now take down our brave young lover, give him of the port wine,
and let him lie down a while. He must then go home and rest, sleep
much and eat much, that he may be recruited of what he has so given
to his love. He must not stay here. Hold a moment! I may take it,
sir, that you are anxious of result. Then bring it with you, that
in all ways the operation is successful. You have saved her life
this time, and you can go home and rest easy in mind that all that
can be is. I shall tell her all when she is well. She shall love
you none the less for what you have done. Goodbye."
When Arthur had gone I went back to the room. Lucy was sleeping
gently, but her breathing was stronger. I could see the counterpane
move as her breast heaved. By the bedside sat Van Helsing, looking
at her intently. The velvet band again covered the red mark. I
asked the Professor in a whisper, "What do you make of that mark on
her throat?"
"What do you make of it?"
"I have not examined it yet," I answered, and then and there
proceeded to loose the band. Just over the external jugular vein
there were two punctures, not large, but not wholesome looking.
There was no sign of disease, but the edges were white and worn
looking, as if by some trituration. It at once occurred to me that
that this wound, or whatever it was, might be the means of that
manifest loss of blood. But I abandoned the idea as soon as it
formed, for such a thing could not be. The whole bed would have
been drenched to a scarlet with the blood which the girl must have
lost to leave such a pallor as she had before the transfusion.
"Well?" said Van Helsing.
"Well," said I. "I can make nothing of it.""Well?" said Van Helsing.
"Well," said I. "I can make nothing of it."
The Professor stood up. "I must go back to Amsterdam tonight,"
he said "There are books and things there which I want. You must
remain here all night, and you must not let your sight pass from
her."
"Shall I have a nurse?" I asked.
"We are the best nurses, you and I. You keep watch all night.
See that she is well fed, and that nothing disturbs her. You must
not sleep all the night.Later on we can sleep, you and I. I shall
be back as soon as possible. And then we may begin."
"May begin?" I said. "What on earth do you mean?"
"We shall see!" he answered, as he hurried out. He came back a
moment later and put his head inside the door and said with a
warning finger held up, "Remember, she is your charge. If you leave
her, and harm befall, you shall not sleep easy hereafter!"
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY—CONTINUED
8 September.—I sat up all night with Lucy. The opiate worked
itself off towards dusk, and she waked naturally. She looked a
different being from what she had been before the operation. Her
spirits even were good, and she was full of a happy vivacity, but I
could see evidences of the absolute prostration which she had
undergone. When I told Mrs. Westenra that Dr. Van Helsing had
directed that I should sit up with her, she almost pooh-poohed the
idea, pointing out her daughter's renewed strength and excellent
spirits. I was firm, however, and made preparations for my long
vigil. When her maid had prepared her for the night I came in,
having in the meantime had supper, and took a seat by the
bedside.
She did not in any way make objection, but looked at me
gratefully whenever I caught her eye. After a long spell she seemed
sinking off to sleep, but with an effort seemed to pull herself
together and shook it off. It was apparent that she did not want to
sleep, so I tackled the subject at once.
"You do not want to sleep?"
"No. I am afraid."
"Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boon we all crave
for.""No. I am afraid."
"Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boon we all crave
for."
"Ah, not if you were like me, if sleep was to you a presage of
horror!"
"A presage of horror! What on earth do you mean?"
"I don't know. Oh, I don't know. And that is what is so
terrible. All this weakness comes to me in sleep, until I dread the
very thought."
"But, my dear girl, you may sleep tonight. I am here watching
you, and I can promise that nothing will happen."
"Ah, I can trust you!" she said.
I seized the opportunity, and said, "I promise that if I see any
evidence of bad dreams I will wake you at once."
"You will? Oh, will you really? How good you are to me. Then I
will sleep!" And almost at the word she gave a deep sigh of relief,
and sank back, asleep.
All night long I watched by her. She never stirred, but slept on
and on in a deep, tranquil, life-giving, healthgiving sleep. Her
lips were slightly parted, and her breast rose and fell with the
regularity of a pendulum. There was a smile on her face, and it was
evident that no bad dreams had come to disturb her peace of
mind.
In the early morning her maid came, and I left her in her care
and took myself back home, for I was anxious about many things. I
sent a short wire to Van Helsing and to Arthur, telling them of the
excellent result of the operation. My own work, with its manifold
arrears, took me all day to clear off. It was dark when I was able
to inquire about my zoophagous patient. The report was good. He had
been quite quiet for the past day and night. A telegram came from
Van Helsing at Amsterdam whilst I was at dinner, suggesting that I
should be at Hillingham tonight, as it might be well to be at hand,
and stating that he was leaving by the night mail and would join me
early in the morning.
9 September.—I was pretty tired and worn out when I got to
Hillingham. For two nights I had hardly had a wink of sleep, and my
brain was beginning to feel that numbness which marks cerebral
exhaustion. Lucy was up and in cheerful spirits. When she shook |
exhaustion. Lucy was up and in cheerful spirits. When she shook
hands with me she looked sharply in my face and said,
"No sitting up tonight for you. You are worn out. I am quite
well again. Indeed, I am, and if there is to be any sitting up, it
is I who will sit up with you."
I would not argue the point, but went and had my supper. Lucy
came with me, and, enlivened by her charming presence, I made an
excellent meal, and had a couple of glasses of the more than
excellent port. Then Lucy took me upstairs, and showed me a room
next her own, where a cozy fire was burning.
"Now," she said. "You must stay here. I shall leave this door
open and my door too. You can lie on the sofa for I know that
nothing would induce any of you doctors to go to bed whilst there
is a patient above the horizon. If I want anything I shall call
out, and you can come to me at once."
I could not but acquiesce, for I was dog tired, and could not
have sat up had I tried. So, on her renewing her promise to call me
if she should want anything, I lay on the sofa, and forgot all
about everything.
LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY
9 September.—I feel so happy tonight. I have been so miserably
weak, that to be able to think and move about is like feeling
sunshine after a long spell of east wind out of a steel sky.
Somehow Arthur feels very, very close to me. I seem to feel his
presence warm about me. I suppose it is that sickness and weakness
are selfish things and turn our inner eyes and sympathy on
ourselves, whilst health and strength give love rein, and in
thought and feeling he can wander where he wills. I know where my
thoughts are. If only Arthur knew! My dear, my dear, your ears must
tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking. Oh, the blissful rest of
last night! How I slept, with that dear, good Dr. Seward watching
me. And tonight I shall not fear to sleep, since he is close at
hand and within call. Thank everybody for being so good to me.
Thank God! Goodnight Arthur.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
10 September.—I was conscious of the Professor's hand on myDR. SEWARD'S DIARY
10 September.—I was conscious of the Professor's hand on my
head, and started awake all in a second. That is one of the things
that we learn in an asylum, at any rate.
"And how is our patient?"
"Well, when I left her, or rather when she left me," I
answered.
"Come, let us see," he said. And together we went into the
room.
The blind was down, and I went over to raise it gently, whilst
Van Helsing stepped, with his soft, cat-like tread, over to the
bed.
As I raised the blind, and the morning sunlight flooded the
room, I heard the Professor's low hiss of inspiration, and knowing
its rarity, a deadly fear shot through my heart. As I passed over
he moved back, and his exclamation of horror, "Gott in Himmel!"
needed no enforcement from his agonized face. He raised his hand
and pointed to the bed, and his iron face was drawn and ashen
white. I felt my knees begin to tremble.
There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more
horribly white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were white,
and the gums seemed to have shrunken back from the teeth, as we
sometimes see in a corpse after a prolonged illness.
Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger, but the instinct
of his life and all the long years of habit stood to him, and he
put it down again softly.
"Quick!" he said. "Bring the brandy."
I flew to the dining room, and returned with the decanter. He
wetted the poor white lips with it, and together we rubbed palm and
wrist and heart. He felt her heart, and after a few moments of
agonizing suspense said,
"It is not too late. It beats, though but feebly. All our work
is undone. We must begin again. There is no young Arthur here now.
I have to call on you yourself this time, friend John." As he
spoke, he was dipping into his bag, and producing the instruments
of transfusion. I had taken off my coat and rolled up my shirt
sleeve. There was no possibility of an opiate just at present, and
no need of one. and so, without a moment's delay, we began the
operation.no need of one. and so, without a moment's delay, we began the
operation.
After a time, it did not seem a short time either, for the
draining away of one's blood, no matter how willingly it be given,
is a terrible feeling, Van Helsing held up a warning finger. "Do
not stir," he said. "But I fear that with growing strength she may
wake, and that would make danger, oh, so much danger. But I shall
precaution take. I shall give hypodermic injection of morphia." He
proceeded then, swiftly and deftly, to carry out his intent.
The effect on Lucy was not bad, for the faint seemed to merge
subtly into the narcotic sleep. It was with a feeling of personal
pride that I could see a faint tinge of color steal back into the
pallid cheeks and lips. No man knows, till he experiences it, what
it is to feel his own lifeblood drawn away into the veins of the
woman he loves.
The Professor watched me critically. "That will do," he said.
"Already?" I remonstrated. "You took a great deal more from Art."
To which he smiled a sad sort of smile as he replied,
"He is her lover, her fiance. You have work, much work to do for
her and for others, and the present will suffice.
When we stopped the operation, he attended to Lucy, whilst I
applied digital pressure to my own incision. I laid down, while I
waited his leisure to attend to me, for I felt faint and a little
sick. By and by he bound up my wound, and sent me downstairs to get
a glass of wine for myself. As I was leaving the room, he came
after me, and half whispered.
"Mind, nothing must be said of this. If our young lover should
turn up unexpected, as before, no word to him. It would at once
frighten him and enjealous him, too. There must be none. So!"
When I came back he looked at me carefully, and then said, "You
are not much the worse. Go into the room, and lie on your sofa, and
rest awhile, then have much breakfast and come here to me."
I followed out his orders, for I knew how right and wise they
were. I had done my part, and now my next duty was to keep up my |
were. I had done my part, and now my next duty was to keep up my
strength. I felt very weak, and in the weakness lost something of
the amazement at what had occurred. I fell asleep on the sofa,
however, wondering over and over again how Lucy had made such a
retrograde movement, and how she could have been drained of so much
blood with no sign any where to show for it. I think I must have
continued my wonder in my dreams, for, sleeping and waking my
thoughts always came back to the little punctures in her throat and
the ragged, exhausted appearance of their edges, tiny though they
were.
Lucy slept well into the day, and when she woke she was fairly
well and strong, though not nearly so much so as the day before.
When Van Helsing had seen her, he went out for a walk, leaving me
in charge, with strict injunctions that I was not to leave her for
a moment. I could hear his voice in the hall, asking the way to the
nearest telegraph office.
Lucy chatted with me freely, and seemed quite unconscious that
anything had happened. I tried to keep her amused and interested.
When her mother came up to see her, she did not seem to notice any
change whatever, but said to me gratefully,
"We owe you so much, Dr. Seward, for all you have done, but you
really must now take care not to overwork yourself. You are looking
pale yourself. You want a wife to nurse and look after you a bit,
that you do!" As she spoke, Lucy turned crimson, though it was only
momentarily, for her poor wasted veins could not stand for long an
unwonted drain to the head. The reaction came in excessive pallor
as she turned imploring eyes on me. I smiled and nodded, and laid
my finger on my lips. With a sigh, she sank back amid her pillows.
Van Helsing returned in a couple of hours, and presently said to
me. "Now you go home, and eat much and drink enough. Make yourself
strong. I stay here tonight, and I shall sit up with little miss
myself. You and I must watch the case, and we must have none othermyself. You and I must watch the case, and we must have none other
to know. I have grave reasons. No, do not ask the. Think what you
will. Do not fear to think even the most not-improbable.
Goodnight."
In the hall two of the maids came to me, and asked if they or
either of them might not sit up with Miss Lucy. They implored me to
let them, and when I said it was Dr. Van Helsing's wish that either
he or I should sit up, they asked me quite piteously to intercede
with the`foreign gentleman'. I was much touched by their kindness.
Perhaps it is because I am weak at present, and perhaps because it
was on Lucy's account, that their devotion was manifested. For over
and over again have I seen similar instances of woman's kindness. I
got back here in time for a late dinner, went my rounds, all well,
and set this down whilst waiting for sleep. It is coming.
11 September.—This afternoon I went over to Hillingham. Found
Van Helsing in excellent spirits, and Lucy much better. Shortly
after I had arrived, a big parcel from abroad came for the
Professor. He opened it with much impressment, assumed, of course,
and showed a great bundle of white flowers.
"These are for you, Miss Lucy," he said.
"For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!"
"Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with. These are
medicines." Here Lucy made a wry face. "Nay, but they are not to
take in a decoction or in nauseous form, so you need not snub that
so charming nose, or I shall point out to my friend Arthur what
woes he may have to endure in seeing so much beauty that he so
loves so much distort. Aha, my pretty miss, that bring the so nice
nose all straight again. This is medicinal, but you do not know
how. I put him in your window, I make pretty wreath, and hang him
round your neck, so you sleep well. Oh, yes! They, like the lotus
flower, make your trouble forgotten. It smell so like the waters of
Lethe, and of that fountain of youth that the Conquistadores sought
for in the Floridas, and find him all too late."for in the Floridas, and find him all too late."
Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had been examining the flowers and
smelling them. Now she threw them down saying, with half laughter,
and half disgust,
"Oh, Professor, I believe you are only putting up a joke on me.
Why, these flowers are only common garlic."
To my surprise, Van Helsing rose up and said with all his
sternness, his iron jaw set and his bushy eyebrows meeting,
"No trifling with me! I never jest! There is grim purpose in
what I do, and I warn you that you do not thwart me. Take care, for
the sake of others if not for your own." Then seeing poor Lucy
scared, as she might well be, he went on more gently, "Oh, little
miss, my dear, do not fear me. I only do for your good, but there
is much virtue to you in those so common flowers. See, I place them
myself in your room. I make myself the wreath that you are to wear.
But hush! No telling to others that make so inquisitive questions.
We must obey, and silence is a part of obedience, and obedience is
to bring you strong and well into loving arms that wait for you.
Now sit still a while. Come with me, friend John, and you shall
help me deck the room with my garlic, which is all the war from
Haarlem, where my friend Vanderpool raise herb in his glass houses
all the year. I had to telegraph yesterday, or they would not have
been here."
We went into the room, taking the flowers with us. The
Professor's actions were certainly odd and not to be found in any
pharmacopeia that I ever heard of. First he fastened up the windows
and latched them securely. Next, taking a handful of the flowers,
he rubbed them all over the sashes, as though to ensure that every
whiff of air that might get in would be laden with the garlic
smell. Then with the wisp he rubbed all over the jamb of the door,
above, below, and at each side, and round the fireplace in the same
way. It all seemed grotesque to me, and presently I said, "Well,
Professor, I know you always have a reason for what you do, butProfessor, I know you always have a reason for what you do, but
this certainly puzzles me. It is well we have no sceptic here, or
he would say that you were working some spell to keep out an evil
spirit."
"Perhaps I am!" He answered quietly as he began to make the
wreath which Lucy was to wear round her neck.
We then waited whilst Lucy made her toilet for the night, and
when she was in bed he came and himself fixed the wreath of garlic
round her neck. The last words he said to her were,
"Take care you do not disturb it, and even if the room feel
close, do not tonight open the window or the door."
"I promise," said Lucy. "And thank you both a thousand times for
all your kindness to me! Oh, what have I done to be blessed with
such friends?"
As we left the house in my fly, which was waiting, Van Helsing
said,"Tonight I can sleep in peace, and sleep I want, two nights of
travel, much reading in the day between, and much anxiety on the
day to follow, and a night to sit up, without to wink. Tomorrow in
the morning early you call for me, and we come together to see our
pretty miss, so much more strong for my `spell' which I have work.
Ho, ho!"
He seemed so confident that I, remembering my own confidence two
nights before and with the baneful result, felt awe and vague
terror. It must have been my weakness that made me hesitate to tell
it to my friend, but I felt it all the more, like unshed tears. |
12 September.—How good they all are to me. I quite love that
dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these
flowers. He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he
must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already.
Somehow, I do not dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep
without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh,
the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of
late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep,
and with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are
some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is
a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.
Well, here I am tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia
in the play, with`virgin crants and maiden strewments.' I never
liked garlic before, but tonight it is delightful! There is peace
in its smell. I feel sleep coming already. Goodnight,
everybody.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
13 September.—Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as
usual, up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting.
The Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him
now.
Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at
Hillingham at eight o'clock. It was a lovely morning. The bright
sunshine and all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the
completion of nature's annual work. The leaves were turning to all
kinds of beautiful colors, but had not yet begun to drop from the
trees. When we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the
morning room. She is always an early riser. She greeted us warmly
and said,
"You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is
still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go
in, lest I should disturb her." The Professor smiled, and looked
quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands together, and said, "Aha! I
thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working."
To which she replied, "You must not take all the credit toTo which she replied, "You must not take all the credit to
yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this morning is due in part to
me."
"How do you mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor.
"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went
into her room. She was sleeping soundly, so soundly that even my
coming did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There
were a lot of those horrible, strongsmelling flowers about
everywhere, and she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I
feared that the heavy odor would be too much for the dear child in
her weak state, so I took them all away and opened a bit of the
window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her,
I am sure."
She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted
early. As she had spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw
it turn ashen gray. He had been able to retain his self-command
whilst the poor lady was present, for he knew her state and how
mischievous a shock would be. He actually smiled on her as he held
open the door for her to pass into her room. But the instant she
had disappeared he pulled me, suddenly and forcibly, into the
dining room and closed the door.
Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break
down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair,
and then beat his palms together in a helpless way. Finally he sat
down on a chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to
sob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking
of his heart.
Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to the whole
universe. "God! God! God!" he said. "What have we done, what has
this poor thing done, that we are so sore beset? Is there fate
amongst us still, send down from the pagan world of old, that such
things must be, and in such way? This poor mother, all unknowing,
and all for the best as she think, does such thing as lose her
daughter body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not evendaughter body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not even
warn her, or she die, then both die. Oh, how we are beset! How are
all the powers of the devils against us!"
Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Come," he said."come, we must
see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it
matters not. We must fight him all the same." He went to the hall
door for his bag, and together we went up to Lucy's room.
Once again I drew up the blind, whilst Van Helsing went towards
the bed. This time he did not start as he looked on the poor face
with the same awful, waxen pallor as before. He wore a look of
stern sadness and infinite pity.
"As I expected," he murmured, with that hissing inspiration of
his which meant so much. Without a word he went and locked the
door, and then began to set out on the little table the instruments
for yet another operation of transfusion of blood. I had long ago
recognized the necessity, and begun to take off my coat, but he
stopped me with a warning hand. "No!" he said. "Today you must
operate. I shall provide. You are weakened already." As he spoke he
took off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeve.
Again the operation. Again the narcotic. Again some return of
color to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy
sleep. This time I watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and
rested.
Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that
she must not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting
him. That the flowers were of medicinal value, and that the
breathing of their odor was a part of the system of cure. Then he
took over the care of the case himself, saying that he would watch
this night and the next, and would send me word when to come.
After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright
and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal.
What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit
of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own
brain.
LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY |
of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own
brain.
LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY
17 September.—Four days and nights of peace. I am getting so
strong again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed
through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the
beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me.
I have a dim half remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and
fearing, darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to
make present distress more poignant. And then long spells of
oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through
a great press of water. Since, however, Dr. Van Helsing has been
with me, all this bad dreaming seems to have passed away. The
noises that used to frighten me out of my wits, the flapping
against the windows, the distant voices which seemed so close to
me, the harsh sounds that came from I know not where and commanded
me to do I know not what, have all ceased. I go to bed now without
any fear of sleep. I do not even try to keep awake. I have grown
quite fond of the garlic, and a boxful arrives for me every day
from Haarlem. Tonight Dr. Van Helsing is going away, as he has to
be for a day in Amsterdam. But I need not be watched. I am well
enough to be left alone.
Thank God for Mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our
friends who have been so kind! I shall not even feel the change,
for last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in his chair a lot of the
time. I found him asleep twice when I awoke. But I did not fear to
go to sleep again, although the boughs or bats or something flapped
almost angrily against the window panes.
THE PALL MALL GAZETTE 18 September.
THE ESCAPED WOLF PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER
INTERVIEW WITH THE KEEPER IN THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS
After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and
perpetually using the words `PALL MALL GAZETTE ' as a sort of
talisman, I managed to find the keeper of the section of the
Zoological Gardens in which the wold department is included. ThomasZoological Gardens in which the wold department is included. Thomas
Bilder lives in one of the cottages in the enclosure behind the
elephant house, and was just sitting down to his tea when I found
him. Thomas and his wife are hospitable folk, elderly, and without
children, and if the specimen I enjoyed of their hospitality be of
the average kind, their lives must be pretty comfortable. The
keeper would not enter on what he called business until the supper
was over, and we were all satisfied. Then when the table was
cleared, and he had lit his pipe, he said,
"Now, Sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll
excoose me refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjucts afore meals. I
gives the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section
their tea afore I begins to arsk them questions."
"How do you mean, ask them questions?" I queried, wishful to get
him into a talkative humor.
" `Ittin' of them over the `ead with a pole is one way.
Scratchin' of their ears in another, when gents as is flush wants a
bit of a show-orf to their gals. I don't so much mind the fust, the
`ittin of the pole part afore I chucks in their dinner, but I waits
till they've `ad their sherry and kawffee, so to speak,afore I
tries on with the ear scratchin'. Mind you," he added
philosophically, "there's a deal of the same nature in us as in
them theer animiles. Here's you a-comin' and arskin' of me
questions about my business, and I that grump-like that only for
your bloomin' `arf-quid I'd `a' seen you blowed fust `fore I'd
answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic like if I'd like you
to arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me questions. Without
offence did I tell yer to go to `ell?"
"You did."
"An' when you said you'd report me for usin' obscene language
that was `ittin' me over the `ead. But the `arfquid made that all
right. I weren't a-goin' to fight, so I waited for the food, and
did with my `owl as the wolves and lions and tigers does. But, lor'
love yer `art, now that the old `ooman has stuck a chunk of herlove yer `art, now that the old `ooman has stuck a chunk of her
tea-cake in me, an' rinsed me out with her bloomin' old teapot, and
I've lit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you're worth, and
won't even get a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions.
I know what yer a-comin' at, that `ere escaped wolf."
"Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me
how it happened, and when I know the facts I'll get you to say what
you consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole
affair will end."
"All right, guv'nor. This `ere is about the `ole story. That`ere
wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three gray ones that came
from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago.
He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave no trouble to talk
of. I'm more surprised at `im for wantin' to get out nor any other
animile in the place. But, there, you can't trust wolves no more
nor women."
"Don't you mind him, Sir!" broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery
laugh. " `E's got mindin' the animiles so long that blest if he
ain't like a old wolf `isself! But there ain't no `arm in `im."
"Well, Sir, it was about two hours after feedin' yesterday when
I first hear my disturbance. I was makin' up a litter in the monkey
house for a young puma which is ill. But when I heard the yelpin'
and `owlin' I kem away straight. There was Bersicker a-tearin' like
a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn't
much people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a
tall, thin chap, with a `ook nose and a pointed beard, with a few
white hairs runnin' through it. He had a `ard, cold look and red
eyes, and I took a sort of mislike to him, for it seemed as if it
was `im as they was hirritated at. He `ad white kid gloves on `is
`ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says, `Keeper,
these wolves seem upset at something.'
"`Maybe it's you,' says I, for I did not like the airs as he
give `isself. He didn't get angry, as I `oped he would, but he |
give `isself. He didn't get angry, as I `oped he would, but he
smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp
teeth. `Oh no, they wouldn't like me,' `e says.
" `Ow yes, they would,' says I, a-imitatin'of him.`They always
like a bone or two to clean their teeth on about tea time, which
you `as a bagful.'
"Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animiles see us
a-talkin' they lay down, and when I went over to Bersicker he let
me stroke his ears same as ever. That there man kem over, and
blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke the old wolf's
ears too!
" `Tyke care,' says I. `Bersicker is quick.'
" `Never mind,' he says. I'm used to `em!'
" `Are you in the business yourself?"I says, tyking off my `at,
for a man what trades in wolves, anceterer, is a good friend to
keepers.
" `Nom' says he, `not exactly in the business, but I `ave made
pets of several.' and with that he lifts his `at as perlite as a
lord, and walks away. Old Bersicker kep' a-lookin' arter `im till
`e was out of sight, and then went and lay down in a corner and
wouldn't come hout the `ole hevening. Well, larst night, so soon as
the moon was hup, the wolves here all began a-`owling. There warn't
nothing for them to `owl at. There warn't no one near, except some
one that was evidently a-callin' a dog somewheres out back of the
gardings in the Park road. Once or twice I went out to see that all
was right, and it was, and then the `owling stopped. Just before
twelve o'clock I just took a look round afore turnin' in, an', bust
me, but when I kem opposite to old Bersicker's cage I see the rails
broken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that's all I know
for certing."
"Did any one else see anything?"
"One of our gard`ners was a-comin' `ome about that time from a
`armony, when he sees a big gray dog comin' out through the garding
`edges. At least, so he says, but I don't give much for it myself,
for if he did `e never said a word about it to his missis when `efor if he did `e never said a word about it to his missis when `e
got `ome, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made
known, and we had been up all night a-huntin' of the Park for
Bersicker, that he remembered seein' anything. My own belief was
that the `armony `ad got into his `ead."
"Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape of
the wolf?"
"Well, Sir,"he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, "I think
I can, but I don't know as `ow you'd be satisfied with the
theory."
"Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals
from experience, can't hazard a good guess at any rate, who is even
to try?"
"well then, Sir, I accounts for it this way. It seems to me that
`ere wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out."
From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wife laughed at the
joke I could see that it had done service before, and that the
whole explanation was simply an elaborate sell. I couldn't cope in
badinage with the worthy Thomas, but I thought I knew a surer way
to his heart, so I said,"Now, Mr. Bilder, we'll consider that first
half-sovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waiting to be
claimed when you've told me what you think will happen."
"Right y`are, Sir," he said briskly. "Ye`ll excoose me, I know,
for a-chaffin' of ye, but the old woman her winked at me, which was
as much as telling me to go on."
"Well, I never!" said the old lady.
"My opinion is this. That `ere wolf is a`idin' of, somewheres.
The gard`ner wot didn't remember said he was a-gallopin' northward
faster than a horse could go, but I don't believe him, for, yer
see, Sir, wolves don't gallop no more nor dogs does, they not bein'
built that way. Wolves is fine things in a storybook, and I dessay
when they gets in packs and does be chivyin' somethin' that's more
afeared than they is they can make a devil of a noise and chop it
up, whatever it is. But, Lor' bless you, in real life a wolf is
only a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog, andonly a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog, and
not half a quarter so much fight in `im. This one ain't been used
to fightin' or even to providin' for hisself, and more like he's
somewhere round the Park a'hidin' an' a'shiverin' of, and if he
thinks at all, wonderin' where he is to get his breakfast from. Or
maybe he's got down some area and is in a coal cellar. My eye,
won't some cook get a rum start when she sees his green eyes
a-shinin' at her out of the dark! If he can't get food he's bound
to look for it, and mayhap he may chance to light on a butcher's
shop in time. If he doesn't, and some nursemaid goes out walkin' or
orf with a soldier, leavin' of the hinfant in the
perambulator—well, then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is
one babby the less. That's all."
I was handing him the half-sovereign, when something came
bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder's face doubled its
natural length with surprise.
"God bless me!" he said. "If there ain't old Bersicker come back
by `isself!"
He went to the door and opened it, a most unnecessary proceeding
it seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never
looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is
between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than
diminished that idea.
After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither
Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should of a
dog. The animal itself was a peaceful and well-behaved as that
father of all picture-wolves, Red Riding Hood's quondam friend,
whilst moving her confidence in masquerade.
The whole scene was a unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos.
The wicked wolf that for a half a day had paralyzed London and set
all the children in town shivering in their shoes, was there in a
sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of
vulpine prodigal son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most
tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent
said, |
tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent
said,
"There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of
trouble. Didn't I say it all along? Here's his head all cut and
full of broken glass. `E's been a-gettin' over some bloomin' wall
or other. It's a shyme that people are allowed to top their walls
with broken bottles. This `ere's what comes of it. Come along,
Bersicker."
He took the wolf and locked him up in a cage, with a piece of
meat that satisfied, in quantity at any rate, the elementary
conditions of the fatted calf, and went off to report.
I came off too, to report the only exclusive information that is
given today regarding the strange escapade at the Zoo.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
17 September.—I was engaged after dinner in my study posting up
my books, which, through press of other work and the many visits to
Lucy, had fallen sadly into arrear. Suddenly the door was burst
open, and in rushed my patient, with his face distorted with
passion. I was thunderstruck, for such a thing as a patient getting
of his own accord into the Superintendent's study is almost
unknown.
Without an instant's notice he made straight at me. He had a
dinner knife in his hand, and as I saw he was dangerous, I tried to
keep the table between us. He was too quick and too strong for me,
however, for before I could get my balance he had struck at me and
cut my left wrist rather severely.
Before he could strike again, however, I got in my right hand
and he was sprawling on his back on the floor. My wrist bled
freely, and quite a little pool trickled on to the carpet. I saw
that my friend was not intent on further effort, and occupied
myself binding up my wrist, keeping a wary eye on the prostrate
figure all the time. When the attendants rushed in, and we turned
our attention to him, his employment positively sickened me. He was
lying on his belly on the floor licking up, like a dog, the blood
which had fallen from my wounded wrist. He was easily secured, andwhich had fallen from my wounded wrist. He was easily secured, and
to my surprise, went with the attendants quite placidly, simply
repeating over and over again, "The blood is the life! The blood is
the life!"
I cannot afford to lose blood just at present. I have lost too
much of late for my physical good, and then the prolonged strain of
Lucy's illness and its horrible phases is telling on me. I am over
excited and weary, and I need rest, rest, rest. Happily Van Helsing
has not summoned me, so I need not forego my sleep. Tonight I could
not well do without it.
TELEGRAM, VAN HELSING, ANTWERP, TO SEWARD, CARFAX
(Sent to Carfax, Sussex, as no county given, delivered late by
twenty-two hours.)
17 September.—Do not fail to be at Hilllingham tonight. If not
watching all the time, frequently visit and see that flowers are as
placed, very important, do not fail. Shall be with you as soon as
possible after arrival.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
18 September.—Just off train to London. The arrival of Van
Helsing's telegram filled me with dismay. A whole night lost, and I
know by bitter experience what may happen in a night. Of course it
is possible that all may be well, but what may have happened?
Surely there is some horrible doom hanging over us that every
possible accident should thwart us in all we try to do. I shall
take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete my entry on
Lucy's phonograph. MEMORANDUM LEFT BY LUCY WESTENRA
17 September, Night.—I write this and leave it to be seen, so
that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is
an exact record of what took place tonight. I feel I am dying of
weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if
I die in the doing.
I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers were placed
as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep.
I was waked by the flapping at the window, which had begun after
that sleep-walking on the cliff at Whitby when Mina saved me, and
which now I know so well. I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr.which now I know so well. I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr.
Seward was in the next room, as Dr. Van Helsing said he would be,
so that I might have called him. I tried to sleep, but I could not.
Then there came to me the old fear of sleep, and I determined to
keep awake. Perversely sleep would try to come then when I did not
want it. So, as I feared to be alone, I opened my door and called
out. "Is there anybody there?" There was no answer. I was afraid to
wake mother, and so closed my door again. Then outside in the
shrubbery I heard a sort of howl like a dog's, but more fierce and
deeper. I went to the window and looked out, but could see nothing,
except a big bat, which had evidently been buffeting its wings
against the window. So I went back to bed again, but determined not
to go to sleep. Presently the door opened, and mother looked in.
Seeing by my moving that I was not asleep, she came in and sat by
me. She said to me even more sweetly and softly than her wont,
"I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to see that you
were all right."
I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and asked her to
come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed, and lay down
beside me. She did not take off her dressing gown, for she said she
would only stay a while and then go back to her own bed. As she lay
there in my arms, and I in hers the flapping and buffeting came to
the window again. She was startled and a little frightened, and
cried out, "What is that?"
I tried to pacify her, and at last succeeded, and she lay quiet.
But I could hear her poor dear heart still beating terribly. After
a while there was the howl again out in the shrubbery, and shortly
after there was a crash at the window, and a lot of broken glass
was hurled on the floor. The window blind blew back with the wind
that rushed in, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was
the head of a great, gaunt gray wolf.
Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sitting
posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her. |
posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her.
Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of flowers that Dr.
Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round my neck, and tore it away
from me. For a second or two she sat up, pointing at the wolf, and
there was a strange and horrible gurgling in her throat. Then she
fell over, as if struck with lightning, and her head hit my
forehead and made me dizzy for a moment or two.
The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes
fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole
myriad of little specks seems to come blowing in through the broken
window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust
that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. I
tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear Mother's
poor body, which seemed to grow cold already, for her dear heart
had ceased to beat, weighed me down, and I remembered no more for a
while.
The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I
recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was
tolling. The dogs all round the neighborhood were howling, and in
our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing. I
was dazed and stupid with pain and terror and weakness, but the
sound of the nightingale seemed like the voice of my dead mother
come back to comfort me. The sounds seemed to have awakened the
maids, too, for I could hear their bare feet pattering outside my
door. I called to them, and they came in, and when they saw what
had happened, and what it was that lay over me on the bed, they
screamed out. The wind rushed in through the broken window, and the
door slammed to. They lifted off the body of my dear mother, and
laid her, covered up with a sheet, on the bed after I had got up.
They were all so frightened and nervous that I directed them to go
to the dining room and each have a glass of wine. The door flew
open for an instant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and thenopen for an instant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and then
went in a body to the dining room, and I laid what flowers I had on
my dear mother's breast. When they were there I remembered what Dr.
Van Helsing had told me, but I didn't like to remove them, and
besides, I would have some of the servants to sit up with me now. I
was surprised that the maids did not come back. I called them, but
got no answer, so I went to the dining room to look for them.
My heart sank when I saw what had happened. They all four lay
helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. The decanter of sherry
was on the table half full, but there was a queer, acrid smell
about. I was suspicious, and examined the decanter. It smelt of
laudanum, and looking on the sideboard, I found that the bottle
which Mother's doctor uses for her—oh! did use—was empty. What am I
to do? What am I to do? I am back in the room with Mother. I cannot
leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom
some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I
can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.
The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the
draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am
I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this
paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay
me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Goodbye,
dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you,
dear, and God help me!18 September.—I drove at once to Hillingham and arrived early.
Keeping my cab at the gate, I went up the avenue alone. I knocked
gently and rang as quietly as possible, for I feared to disturb
Lucy or her mother, and hoped to only bring a servant to the door.
After a while, finding no response, I knocked and rang again, still
no answer. I cursed the laziness of the servants that they should
lie abed at such an hour, for it was now ten o'clock, and so rang
and knocked again, but more impatiently, but still without
response. Hitherto I had blamed only the servants, but now a
terrible fear began to assail me. Was this desolation but another
link in the chain of doom which seemed drawing tight round us? Was
it indeed a house of death to which I had come, too late? I know
that minutes, even seconds of delay, might mean hours of danger to
Lucy, if she had had again one of those frightful relapses, and I
went round the house to try if I could find by chance an entry
anywhere. I could find no means of ingress. Every window and door
was fastened and locked, and I returned baffled to the porch. As I
did so, I heard the rapid pit-pat of a swiftly driven horse's feet.
They stopped at the gate, and a few seconds later I met Van Helsing
running up the avenue. When he saw me, he gasped out, "Then it was
you, and just arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you not get
my telegram?"
I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that I had only
got his telegram early in the morning, and had not a minute in
coming here, and that I could not make any one in the house hear
me. He paused and raised his hat as he said solemnly, "Then I fear
we are too late. God's will be done!"
With his usual recuperative energy, he went on, "Come. If there
be no way open to get in, we must make one. Time is all in all to
us now."
We went round to the back of the house, where there was a
kitchen window. The Professor took a small surgical saw from his
case, and handing it to me, pointed to the iron bars which guarded |
case, and handing it to me, pointed to the iron bars which guarded
the window. I attacked them at once and had very soon cut through
three of them. Then with a long, thin knife we pushed back the
fastening of the sashes and opened the window. I helped the
Professor in, and followed him. There was no one in the kitchen or
in the servants' rooms, which were close at hand. We tried all the
rooms as we went along, and in the dining room, dimly lit by rays
of light through the shutters, found four servant women lying on
the floor. There was no need to think them dead, for their
stertorous breathing and the acrid smell of laudanum in the room
left no doubt as to their condition.
Van Helsing and I looked at each other, and as we moved away he
said, "We can attend to them later."Then we ascended to Lucy's
room. For an instant or two we paused at the door to listen, but
there was no sound that we could hear. With white faces and
trembling hands, we opened the door gently, and entered the
room.
How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay two women, Lucy
and her mother. The latter lay farthest in, and she was covered
with a white sheet, the edge of which had been blown back by the
drought through the broken window, showing the drawn, white, face,
with a look of terror fixed upon it. By her side lay Lucy, with
face white and still more drawn. The flowers which had been round
her neck we found upon her mother's bosom, and her throat was bare,
showing the two little wounds which we had noticed before, but
looking horribly white and mangled. Without a word the Professor
bent over the bed, his head almost touching poor Lucy's breast.
Then he gave a quick turn of his head, as of one who listens, and
leaping to his feet, he cried out to me, "It is not yet too late!
Quick! Quick! Bring the brandy!"
I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and
taste it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry
which I found on the table. The maids were still breathing, butwhich I found on the table. The maids were still breathing, but
more restlessly, and I fancied that the narcotic was wearing off. I
did not stay to make sure, but returned to Van Helsing. He rubbed
the brandy, as on another occasion, on her lips and gums and on her
wrists and the palms of her hands. He said to me, "I can do this,
all that can be at the present. You go wake those maids. Flick them
in the face with a wet towel, and flick them hard. Make them get
heat and fire and a warm bath. This poor soul is nearly as cold as
that beside her. She will need be heated before we can do anything
more."
I went at once, and found little difficulty in waking three of
the women. The fourth was only a young girl, and the drug had
evidently affected her more strongly so I lifted her on the sofa
and let her sleep.
The others were dazed at first, but as remembrance came back to
them they cried and sobbed in a hysterical manner. I was stern with
them, however, and would not let them talk. I told them that one
life was bad enough to lose, and if they delayed they would
sacrifice Miss Lucy. So, sobbing and crying they went about their
way, half clad as they were, and prepared fire and water.
Fortunately, the kitchen and boiler fires were still alive, and
there was no lack of hot water. We got a bath and carried Lucy out
as she was and placed her in it. Whilst we were busy chafing her
limbs there was a knock at the hall door. One of the maids ran off,
hurried on some more clothes, and opened it. Then she returned and
whispered to us that there was a gentleman who had come with a
message from Mr. Holmwood. I bade her simply tell him that he must
wait, for we could see no one now. She went away with the message,
and, engrossed with our work, I clean forgot all about him.
I never saw in all my experience the Professor work in such
deadly earnest. I knew, as he knew, that it was a stand-up fight
with death, and in a pause told him so. He answered me in a way
that I did not understand, but with the sternest look that his facethat I did not understand, but with the sternest look that his face
could wear.
"If that were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let
her fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her
horizon." He went on with his work with, if possible, renewed and
more frenzied vigour.
Presently we both began to be conscious that the heat was
beginning to be of some effect. Lucy's heart beat a trifle more
audibly to the stethoscope, and her lungs had a perceptible
movement. Van Helsing's face almost beamed, and as we lifted her
from the bath and rolled her in a hot sheet to dry her he said to
me, "The first gain is ours! Check to the King!"
We took Lucy into another room, which had by now been prepared,
and laid her in bed and forced a few drops of brandy down her
throat. I noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief
round her throat. She was still unconscious, and was quite as bad
as, if not worse than, we had ever seen her.
Van Helsing called in one of the women, and told her to stay
with her and not to take her eyes off her till we returned, and
then beckoned me out of the room.
"We must consult as to what is to be done," he said as we
descended the stairs. In the hall he opened the dining room door,
and we passed in, he closing the door carefully behind him. The
shutters had been opened, but the blinds were already down, with
that obedience to the etiquette of death which the British woman of
the lower classes always rigidly observes. The room was, therefore,
dimly dark. It was, however, light enough for our purposes. Van
Helsing's sternness was somewhat relieved by a look of perplexity.
He was evidently torturing his mind about something, so I waited
for an instant, and he spoke.
"What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for help? We must
have another transfusion of blood, and that soon, or that poor
girl's life won't be worth an hour's purchase. You are exhausted
already. I am exhausted too. I fear to trust those women, even if |
already. I am exhausted too. I fear to trust those women, even if
they would have courage to submit. What are we to do for some one
who will open his veins for her?"
"What's the matter with me, anyhow?"
The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its tones
brought relief and joy to my heart, for they were those of Quincey
Morris.
Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but his face
softened and a glad look came into his eyes as I cried out,
"Quincey Morris!" and rushed towards him with outstretched
hands.
"What brought you her?" I cried as our hands met.
"I guess Art is the cause."
He handed me a telegram.— `Have not heard from Seward for three
days, and am terribly anxious. Cannot leave. Father still in same
condition. Send me word how Lucy is. Do not delay.—Holmwood.'
"I think I came just in the nick of time. You know you have only
to tell me what to do."
Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him
straight in the eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best
thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no
mistake. Well, the devil may work against us for all he's worth,
but God sends us men when we want them."
Once again we went through that ghastly operation. I have not
the heart to go through with the details. Lucy had got a terrible
shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of
blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the
treatment as well as on the other occasions. Her struggle back into
life was something frightful to see and hear. However, the action
of both heart and lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a
sub-cutaneous injection of morphia, as before, and with good
effect. Her faint became a profound slumber. The Professor watched
whilst I went downstairs with Quincey Morris, and sent one of the
maids to pay off one of the cabmen who were waiting.
I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told
the cook to get ready a good breakfast. Then a thought struck me,the cook to get ready a good breakfast. Then a thought struck me,
and I went back to the room where Lucy now was. When I came softly
in, I found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note paper in his
hand. He had evidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat
with his hand to his brow. There was a look of grim satisfaction in
his face, as of one who has had a doubt solved. He handed me the
paper saying only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried
her to the bath."
When I had read it, I stook looking at the Professor, and after
a pause asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she,
or is she, mad, or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so
bewildered that I did not know what to say more. Van Helsing put
out his hand and took the paper, saying,
"Do not trouble about it now. Forget if for the present. You
shall know and understand it all in good time, but it will be
later. And now what is it that you came to me to say?" This brought
me back to fact, and I was all myself again.
"I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we do not
act properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper
would have to be produced. I am in hopes that we need have no
inquest, for if we had it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing
else did. I know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended
her knows, that Mrs. Westenra had disease of the heart, and we can
certify that she died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at
once, and I shall take it myself to the registrar and go on to the
undertaker."
"Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if
she be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the
friends thatlove her. One, two, three, all open their veins for
her, besides one old man. Ah, yes, I know, friend John. I am not
blind! I love you all the more for it! Now go."
In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur
telling him that Mrs. Westenra was dead, that Lucy also had been
ill, but was now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I wereill, but was now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were
with her. I told him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but
as I was going said, "When you come back, Jack, may I have two
words with you all to ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went out. I
found no difficulty about the registration, and arranged with the
local undertaker to come up in the evening to measure for the
coffin and to make arrangements.
When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would
see him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She
was still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from
his seat at her side. From his putting his finger to his lips, I
gathered that he expected her to wake before long and was afraid of
fore-stalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took him into
the breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawn down, and which
was a little more cheerful, or rather less cheerless, than the
other rooms.
When we were alone, he said to me, "Jack Seward, I don't want to
shove myself in anywhere where I've no right to be, but this is no
ordinary case. You know I loved that girl and wanted to marry her,
but although that's all past and gone, I can't help feeling anxious
about her all the same. What is it that's wrong with her? The
Dutchman, and a fine old fellow is is, I can see that, said that
time you two came into the room, that you must have another
transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted. Now
I know well that you medical men speak in camera, and that a man
must not expect to know what they consult about in private. But
this is no common matter, and whatever it is, I have done my part.
Is not that so?"
"That's so," I said, and he went on.
"I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I
did today. Is not that so?"
"That's so."
"And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago
down at his own place he looked queer. I have not seen anything
pulled down so quick since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that |
pulled down so quick since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that
I was fond of go to grass all in a night. One of those big bats
that they call vampires had got at her in the night, and what with
his gorge and the vein left open, there wasn't enough blood in her
to let her stand up, and I had to put a bullet through her as she
lay. Jack, if you may tell me without betraying confidence, Arthur
was the first, is not that so?"
As he spoke the poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a
torture of suspense regarding the woman he loved, and his utter
ignorance of the terrible mystery which seemed to surround her
intensified his pain. His very heart was bleeding, and it took all
the manhood of him, and there was a royal lot of it, too, to keep
him from breaking down. I paused before answering, for I felt that
I must not betray anything which the Professor wished kept secret,
but already he knew so much, and guessed so much, that there could
be no reason for not answering, so I answered in the same
phrase.
"That's so."
"And how long has this been going on?"
"About ten days."
"Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty
creature that we all love has had put into her veins within that
time the blood of four strong men. Man alive, her whole body
wouldn't hold it." Then coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce
half-whisper. "What took it out?"
I shook my head. "That," I said, "is the crux. Van Helsing is
simply frantic about it, and I am at my wits' end. I can't even
hazard a guess. There has been a series of little circumstances
which have thrown out all our calculations as to Lucy being
properly watched. But these shall not occur again. Here we stay
until all be well, or ill."
Quincey held out his hand. "Count me in," he said. "You and the
Dutchman will tell me what to do, and I'll do it."
When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy's first movement was
to feel in her breast, and to my surprise, produced the paper which
Van Helsing had given me to read. The careful Professor hadVan Helsing had given me to read. The careful Professor had
replaced it where it had come from, lest on waking she should be
alarmed. Her eyes then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and
gladdened. Then she looked round the room, and seeing where she
was, shuddered. She gave a loud cry, and put her poor thin hands
before her pale face.
We both understood what was meant, that she had realized to the
full her mother's death. So we tried what we could to comfort her.
Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, but she was very low in
thought and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for a long time.
We told her that either or both of us would now remain with her all
the time, and that seemed to comfort her. Towards dusk she fell
into a doze. Here a very odd thing occurred. Whilst still asleep
she took the paper from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing
stepped over and took the pieces from her. All the same, however,
she went on with the action of tearing, as though the material were
still in her hands. Finally she lifted her hands and opened them as
though scattering the fragments. Van Helsing seemed surprised, and
his brows gathered as if in thought, but he said nothing.
19 September.—All last night she slept fitfully, being always
afraid to sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it. The
Professor and I took in turns to watch, and we never left her for a
moment unattended. Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention,
but I knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the
house.
When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in
poor Lucy's strength. She was hardly able to turn her head, and the
little nourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good.
At times she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the
difference in her, between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she
looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was
softer. Her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the
teeth, which looked positively longer and sharper than usual. Whenteeth, which looked positively longer and sharper than usual. When
she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression,
for she looked her own self, although a dying one. In the afternoon
she asked for Arthur, and we telegraphed for him. Quincey went off
to meet him at the station.
When he arrived it was nearly six o'clock, and the sun was
setting full and warm, and the red light streamed in through the
window and gave more color to the pale cheeks. When he saw her,
Arthur was simply choking with emotion, and none of us could speak.
In the hours that had passed, the fits of sleep, or the comatose
condition that passed for it, had grown more frequent, so that the
pauses when conversation was possible were shortened. Arthur's
presence, however, seemed to act as a stimulant. She rallied a
little, and spoke to him more brightly than she had done since we
arrived. He too pulled himself together, and spoke as cheerily as
he could, so that the best was made of everything.
It is now nearly one o'clock, and he and Van Helsing are sitting
with her. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an hour, and I am
entering this on Lucy's phonograph. Until six o'clock they are to
try to rest. I fear that tomorrow will end our watching, for the
shock has been too great. The poor child cannot rally. God help us
all.
LETTER MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA
(Unopened by her)
17 September
My dearest Lucy,
"It seems an age since I heard from you, or indeed since I
wrote. You will pardon me, I know, for all my faults when you have
read all my budget of news. Well, I got my husband back all right.
When we arrived at Exeter there was a carriage waiting for us, and
in it, though he had an attack of gout, Mr. Hawkins. He took us to
his house, where there were rooms for us all nice and comfortable,
and we dined together. After dinner Mr. Hawkins said,
" `My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity, and may
every blessing attend you both. I know you both from children, and |
every blessing attend you both. I know you both from children, and
have, with love and pride, seen you grow up. Now I want you to make
your home here with me. I have left to me neither chick nor child.
All are gone, and in my will I have left you everything.' I cried,
Lucy dear, as Jonathan and the old man clasped hands. Our evening
was a very, very happy one.
"So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house, and from
both my bedroom and the drawing room I can see the great elms of
the cathedral close, with their great black stems standing out
against the old yellow stone of the cathedral, and I can hear the
rooks overhead cawing and cawing and chattering and chattering and
gossiping all day, after the manner of rooks—and humans. I am busy,
I need not tell you, arranging things and housekeeping. Jonathan
and Mr. Hawkins are busy all day, for now that Jonathan is a
partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to tell him all about the clients.
"How is your dear mother getting on? I wish I could run up to
town for a day or two to see you, dear, but I, dare not go yet,
with so much on my shoulders, and Jonathan wants looking after
still. He is beginning to put some flesh on his bones again, but he
was terribly weakened by the long illness. Even now he sometimes
starts out of his sleep in a sudden way and awakes all trembling
until I can coax him back to his usual placidity. However, thank
God, these occasions grow less frequent as the days go on, and they
will in time pass away altogether, I trust. And now I have told you
my news, let me ask yours. When are you to be married, and where,
and who is to perform the ceremony, and what are you to wear, and
is it to be a public or private wedding? Tell me all about it,
dear, tell me all about everything, for there is nothing which
interests you which will not be dear to me. Jonathan asks me to
send his `respectful duty', but I do not think that is good enough
from the junior partner of the important firm Hawkins & Harker.from the junior partner of the important firm Hawkins & Harker.
And so, as you love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all
the moods and tenses of the verb, I send you simply his `love'
instead. Goodbye, my dearest Lucy, and blessings on you." Yours,
Mina Harker
REPORT FROM PATRICK HENNESSEY, MD, MRCSLK, QCPI, ETC, ETC, TO
JOHN SEWARD, MD
20 September
My dear Sir:
"In accordance with your wishes, I enclose report of the
conditions of everything left in my charge. With regard to patient,
Renfield, there is more to say. He has had another outbreak, which
might have had a dreadful ending, but which, as it fortunately
happened, was unattended with any unhappy results. This afternoon a
carrier's cart with two men made a call at the empty house whose
grounds abut on ours, the house to which, you will remember, the
patient twice ran away. The men stopped at our gate to ask the
porter their way, as they were strangers.
"I was myself looking out of the study window, having a smoke
after dinner, and saw one of them come up to the house. As he
passed the window of Renfield's room, the patient began to rate him
from within, and called him all the foul names he could lay his
tongue to. The man, who seemed a decent fellow enough, contented
himself by telling him to `shut up for a foul-mouthed
beggar',whereon our man accused him of robbing him and wanting to
murder him and said that he would hinder him if he were to swing
for it. I opened the window and signed to the man not to notice, so
he contented himself after looking the place over and making up his
mind as to what kind of place he had got to by saying, `Lor' bless
yer, sir, I wouldn't mind what was said to me in a bloomin'
madhouse. I pity ye and the guv'nor for havin' to live in the house
with a wild beast like that.'
"Then he asked his way civilly enough, and I told him where the
gate of the empty house was. He went away followed by threats and
curses and revilings from our man. I went down to see if I couldcurses and revilings from our man. I went down to see if I could
make out any cause for his anger, since he is usually such a
well-behaved man, and except his violent fits nothing of the kind
had ever occurred. I found him, to my astonishment, quite composed
and most genial in his manner. I tried to get him to talk of the
incident, but he blandly asked me questions as to what I meant, and
led me to believe that he was completely oblivious of the affair.
It was, I am sorry to say, however, only another instance of his
cunning, for within half an hour I heard of him again. This time he
had broken out through the window of his room, and was running down
the avenue. I called to the attendants to follow me, and ran after
him, for I feared he was intent on some mischief. My fear was
justified when I saw the same cart which had passed before coming
down the road, having on it some great wooden boxes. The men were
wiping their foreheads, and were flushed in the face, as if with
violent exercise. Before I could get up to him, the patient rushed
at them, and pulling one of them off the cart, began to knock his
head against the ground. If I had not seized him just at the
moment, I believe he would have killed the man there and then. The
other fellow jumped down and struck him over the head with the butt
end of his heavy whip. It was a horrible blow, but he did not seem
to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled with the three of
us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens. You know I am no
lightweight, and the others were both burly men. At first he was
silent in his fighting, but as we began to master him, and the
attendants were putting a strait waistcoat on him, he began to
shout, `I'll frustrate them! They shan't rob me!They shan't murder
me by inches! I'll fight for my Lord and Master!'and all sorts of
similar incoherent ravings. It was with very considerable
difficulty that they got him back to the house and put him in the
padded room. One of the attendants, Hardy, had a finger broken. |
padded room. One of the attendants, Hardy, had a finger broken.
However, I set it all right, and he is going on well.
"The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of actions
for damages, and promised to rain all the penalties of the law on
us. Their threats were, however, mingled with some sort of indirect
apology for the defeat of the two of them by a feeble madman. They
said that if it had not been for the way their strength had been
spent in carrying and raising the heavy boxes to the cart they
would have made short work of him. They gave as another reason for
their defeat the extraordinary state of drouth to which they had
been reduced by the dusty nature of their occupation and the
reprehensible distance from the scene of their labors of any place
of public entertainment. I quite understood their drift, and after
a stiff glass of strong grog, or rather more of the same, and with
each a sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and swore
that they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure
of meeting so `bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took
their names and addresses, in case they might be needed. They are
as follows: Jack Smollet, of Dudding's Rents, King George's Road,
Great Walworth, and Thomas Snelling, Peter Farley's Row, Guide
Court, Bethnal Green. They are both in the employment of Harris
& Sons, Moving and Shipment Company, Orange Master's Yard,
Soho.
"I shall report to you any matter of interest occurring here,
and shall wire you at once if there is anything of importance.
"Believe me, dear Sir,
"Yours faithfully,
"Patrick Hennessey."
LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA (Unopened by her)
18 September
"My dearest Lucy,
"Such a sad blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins has died very
suddenly. Some may not think it so sad for us, but we had both come
to so love him that it really seems as though we had lost a father.
I never knew either father or mother, so that the dear old man's
death is a real blow to me. Jonathan is greatly distressed. It isdeath is a real blow to me. Jonathan is greatly distressed. It is
not only that he feels sorrow, deep sorrow, for the dear,good man
who has befriended him all his life, and now at the end has treated
him like his own son and left him a fortune which to people of our
modest bringing up is wealth beyond the dream of avarice, but
Jonathan feels it on another account. He says the amount of
responsibility which it puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins
to doubt himself. I try to cheer him up, and my belief in him helps
him to have a belief in himself. But it is here that the grave
shock that he experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too
hard that a sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his, a
nature which enabled him by our dear, good friend's aid to rise
from clerk to master in a few years, should be so injured that the
very essence of its strength is gone. Forgive me, dear, if I worry
you with my troubles in the midst of your own happiness, but Lucy
dear, I must tell someone, for the strain of keeping up a brave and
cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, and I have no one here
that I can confide in. I dread coming up to London, as we must do
that day after tomorrow, for poor Mr. Hawkins left in his will that
he was to be buried in the grave with his father. As there are no
relations at all, Jonathan will have to be chief mourner. I shall
try to run over to see you, dearest, if only for a few minutes.
Forgive me for troubling you. With all blessings,
"Your loving
Mina Harker" DR. SEWARD' DIARY
20 September.—Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry
tonight. I am too miserable, too low spirited, too sick of the
world and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care
if I heard this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of
death. And he has been flapping those grim wings to some purpose of
late, Lucy's mother and Arthur's father, and now … Let me get
on with my work.
I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. We wantedon with my work.
I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. We wanted
Arthur to go to rest also, but he refused at first. It was only
when I told him that we should want him to help us during the day,
and that we must not all break down for want of rest, lest Lucy
should suffer, that he agreed to go.
Van Helsing was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said.
"Come with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and
much mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know
of. You must not be alone, for to be alone is to be full of fears
and alarms. Come to the drawing room, where there is a big fire,
and there are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other,
and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do
not speak, and even if we sleep."
Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing look on Lucy's
face, which lay in her pillow, almost whiter than the lawn. She lay
quite still, and I looked around the room to see that all was as it
should be. I could see that the Professor had carried out in this
room, as in the other, his purpose of using the garlic. The whole
of the window sashes reeked with it, and round Lucy's neck, over
the silk handkerchief which Van Helsing made her keep on, was a
rough chaplet of the same odorous flowers.
Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, and her face was at
its worst, for the open mouth showed the pale gums. Her teeth, in
the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had
been in the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, the
canine teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest.
I sat down beside her, and presently she moved uneasily. At the
same moment there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the
window. I went over to it softly, and peeped out by the corner of
the blind. There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the
noise was made by a great bat, which wheeled around, doubtless
attracted by the light, although so dim, and every now and again |
attracted by the light, although so dim, and every now and again
struck the window with its wings. When I came back to my seat, I
found that Lucy had moved slightly, and had torn away the garlic
flowers from her throat. I replaced them as well as I could, and
sat watching her.
Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Helsing had
prescribed. She took but a little, and that languidly. There did
not seem to be with her now the unconscious struggle for life and
strength that had hitherto so marked her illness. It struck me as
curious that the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic
flowers close to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she got
into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put
the flowers from her, but that when she waked she clutched them
close, There was no possibility of making amy mistake about this,
for in the long hours that followed, she had many spells of
sleeping and waking and repeated both actions many times.
At six o'clock Van Helsing came to relieve me. Arthur had then
fallen into a doze, and he mercifully let him sleep on. When he saw
Lucy's face I could hear the sissing indraw of breath, and he said
to me in a sharp whisper."Draw up the blind. I want light!" Then he
bent down, and, with his face almost touching Lucy's, examined her
carefully. He removed the flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief
from her throat. As he did so he started back and I could hear his
ejaculation, "Mein Gott!" as it was smothered in his throat. I bent
over and looked, too, and as I noticed some queer chill came over
me. The wounds on the throat had absolutely disappeared.
For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with
his face at its sternest. Then he turned to me and said calmly,
"She is dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference,
mark me, whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor
boy, and let him come and see the last. He trusts us, and we have
promised him."
I went to the dining room and waked him. He was dazed for apromised him."
I went to the dining room and waked him. He was dazed for a
moment, but when he saw the sunlight streaming in through the edges
of the shutters he thought he was late, and expressed his fear. I
assured him that Lucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as i
could that both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was near. He
covered his face with his hands, and slid down on his knees by the
sofa, where he remained, perhaps a minute, with his head buried,
praying, whilst his shoulders shook with grief. I took him by the
hand and raised him up. "Come," I said, "my dear old fellow, summon
all your fortitude. It will be best and easiest for her."
When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had,
with his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and
making everything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed
Lucy's hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny
ripples. When we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing
him, whispered softly, "Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have
come!"
He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back.
"No," he whispered, "not yet! Hold her hand, it will comfort her
more."
So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and she looked her
best, with all the soft lines matching the angelic beauty of her
eyes. Then gradually her eyes closed, and she sank to sleep. For a
little bit her breast heaved softly, and her breath came and went
like a tired child's.
And then insensibly there came the strange change which I had
noticed in the night. Her breathing grew stertorous, the mouth
opened, and the pale gums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer
and sharper than ever. In a sort of sleepwaking, vague, unconscious
way she opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once, and
said in a soft,voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her
lips, "Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss
me!"
Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her, but at that instant Vanme!"
Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her, but at that instant Van
Helsing, who, like me, had been startled by her voice, swooped upon
him, and catching him by the neck with both hands, dragged him back
with a fury of strength which I never thought he could have
possessed, and actually hurled him almost across the room. "Not on
your life!" he said, "not for your living soul and hers!" And he
stood between them like a lion at bay.
Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a moment know what
to do or say, and before any impulse of violence could seize him he
realized the place and the occasion, and stood silent, waiting.
I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and we saw a
spasm as of rage flit like a shadow over her face. The sharp teeth
clamped together. Then her eyes closed, and she breathed
heavily.
Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness,
and putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great
brown one, drawing it close to her, she kissed it. "My true
friend," she said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos,
"My true friend, and his! Oh, guard him, and give me peace!"
"I swear it!" he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and holding
up his hand, as one who registers an oath. Then he turned to
Arthur, and said to him, "Come, my child, take her hand in yours,
and kiss her on the forehead, and only once."
Their eyes met instead of their lips, and so they parted. Lucy's
eyes closed, and Van Helsing, who had been watching closely, took
Arthur's arm, and drew him away.
And then Lucy's breathing became stertorous again, and all at
once it ceased.
"It is all over," said Van Helsing. "She is dead!"
I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the drawing room,
where he sat down, and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in
a way that nearly broke me down to see.
I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing looking at poor
Lucy, and his face was sterner than eve. Some change had come over
her body. Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow andher body. Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow and
cheeks had recovered some of their flowing lines. Even the lips had
lost their deadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed
for the working of the heart, had gone to make the harshness of
death as little rude as might be.
"We thought her dying whilst she slept, And sleeping when she
died."
I stood beside Van Helsing, and said, "Ah well, poor girl, there
is peace for her at last. It is the end!"
He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity,"Not so, alas!
Not so. It is only the beginning!"
When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and
answered, "We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see." |
The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day, so that
Lucy and her mother might be buried together. I attended to all the
ghastly formalities, and the urbane undertaker proved that his
staff was afflicted, or blessed, with something of his own
obsequious suavity. Even the woman who performed the last offices
for the dead remarked to me, in a confidential,
brother-professional way, when she had come out from the death
chamber,
"She makes a very beautiful corpse, sir. It's quite a privilege
to attend on her. It's not too much to say that she will do credit
to our establishment!"
I noticed that Van Helsing never kept far away. This was
possible from the disordered state of things in the household.
There were no relatives at hand, and as Arthur had to be back the
next day to attend at his father's funeral, we were unable to
notify any one who should have been bidden. Under the
circumstances, Van Helsing and I took it upon ourselves to examine
papers, etc. He insisted upon looking over Lucy's papers himself. I
asked him why, for I feared that he, being a foreigner, might not
be quite aware of English legal requirements, and so might in
ignorance make some unnecessary trouble.
He answered me, "I know, I know. You forget that I am a lawyer
as well as a doctor. But this is not altogether for the law. You
knew that, when you avoided the coroner. I have more than him to
avoid. There may be papers more, such as this."
As he spoke he took from his pocket book the memorandum which
had been in Lucy's breast, and which she had torn in her sleep.
"When you find anything of the solicitor who is for the late
Mrs. Westenra, seal all her papers, and write him tonight. For me,
I watch here in the room and in Miss Lucy's old room all night, and
I myself search for what may be. It is not well that her very
thoughts go into the hands of strangers."
I went on with my part of the work, and in another half hour had
found the name and address of Mrs. Westenra's solicitor and hadfound the name and address of Mrs. Westenra's solicitor and had
written to him. All the poor lady's papers were in order. Explicit
directions regarding the place of burial were given. I had hardly
sealed the letter, when, to my surprise, Van Helsing walked into
the room, saying,
"Can I help you friend John? I am free, and if I may, my service
is to you."
"Have you got what you looked for?" I asked.
To which he replied, "I did not look for any specific thing. I
only hoped to find, and find I have, all that there was, only some
letters and a few memoranda, and a diary new begun. But I have them
here, and we shall for the present say nothing of them. I shall see
that poor lad tomorrow evening, and, with his sanction, I shall use
some."
When we had finished the work in hand, he said to me, "And now,
friend John, I think we may to bed. We want sleep, both you and I,
and rest to recuperate. Tomorrow we shall have much to do, but for
the tonight there is no need of us. Alas!"
Before turning in we went to look at poor Lucy. The undertaker
had certainly done his work well, for the room was turned into a
small chapelle ardente. There was a wilderness of beautiful white
flowers, and death was made as little repulsive as might be. The
end of the winding sheet was laid over the face. When the Professor
bent over and turned it gently back, we both started at the beauty
before us. The tall wax candles showing a sufficient light to note
it well. All Lucy's loveliness had come back to her in death, and
the hours that had passed, instead of leaving traces of `decay's
effacing fingers', had but restored the beauty of life, till
positively I could not believe my eyes that I was looking at a
corpse.
The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not loved her as I
had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes. He said to me,
"Remain till I return," and left the room. He came back with a
handful of wild garlic from the box waiting in the hall, but which
had not been opened, and placed the flowers amongst the others onhad not been opened, and placed the flowers amongst the others on
and around the bed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar,
a little gold crucifix, and placed it over the mouth. He restored
the sheet to its place, and we came away.
I was undressing in my own room, when, with a premonitory tap at
the door, he entered, and at once began to speak.
"Tomorrow I want you to bring me, before night, a set of
post-mortem knives."
"Must we make an autopsy?" I asked.
"Yes and no. I want to operate, but not what you think. Let me
tell you now, but not a word to another. I want to cut off her head
and take out her heart. Ah! You a surgeon, and so shocked! You,
whom I have seen with no tremble of hand or heart, do operations of
life and death that make the rest shudder. Oh, but I must not
forget, my dear friend John, that you loved her, and I have not
forgotten it for is I that shall operate, and you must not help. I
would like to do it tonight, but for Arthur I must not. He will be
free after his father's funeral tomorrow, and he will want to see
her, to see it. Then, when she is coffined ready for the next day,
you and I shall come when all sleep. We shall unscrew the coffin
lid, and shall do our operation, and then replace all, so that none
know, save we alone."
"But why do it at all? The girl is dead. Why mutilate her poor
body without need? And if there is no necessity for a post-mortem
and nothing to gain by it, no good to her, to us, to science, to
human knowledge, why do it? Without such it is monstrous."
For answer he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, with
infinite tenderness, "Friend John, I pity your poor bleeding heart,
and I love you the more because it does so bleed. If I could, I
would take on myself the burden that you do bear. But there are
things that you know not, but that you shall know, and bless me for
knowing, though they are not pleasant things. John, my child, you
have been my friend now many years, and yet did you ever know me to |
have been my friend now many years, and yet did you ever know me to
do any without good cause? I may err, I am but man, but I believe
in all I do. Was it not for these causes that you send for me when
the great trouble came? Yes! Were you not amazed, nay horrified,
when I would not let Arthur kiss his love, though she was dying,
and snatched him away by all my strength? Yes! And yet you saw how
she thanked me, with her so beautiful dying eyes, her voice, too,
so weak, and she kiss my rough old hand and bless me? Yes! And did
you not hear me swear promise to her, that so she closed her eyes
grateful? Yes!
"Well, I have good reason now for all I want to do. You have for
many years trust me. You have believe me weeks past, when there be
things so strange that you might have well doubt. Believe me yet a
little, friend John. If you trust me not, then I must tell what I
think, and that is not perhaps well. And if I work, as work I
shall, no matter trust or no trust, without my friend trust in me,
I work with heavy heart and feel, oh so lonely when I want all help
and courage that may be!" He paused a moment and went on solemnly,
"Friend John, there are strange and terrible days before us. Let us
not be two, but one, that so we work to a good end. Will you not
have faith in me?"
I took his hand, and promised him. I held my door open as he
went away, and watched him go to his room and close the door. As I
stood without moving, I saw one of the maids pass silently along
the passage, she had her back to me, so did not see me, and go into
the room where Lucy lay. The sight touched me. Devotion is so rare,
and we are so grateful to those who show it unasked to those we
love. Here was a poor girl putting aside the terrors which she
naturally had of death to go watch alone by the bier of the
mistress whom she loved, so that the poor clay might not be lonely
till laid to eternal rest.
I must have slept long and soundly, for it was broad daylight
when Van Helsing waked me by coming into my room. He came over towhen Van Helsing waked me by coming into my room. He came over to
my bedside and said, "You need not trouble about the knives. We
shall not do it."
"Why not?" I asked. For his solemnity of the night before had
greatly impressed me.
"Because," he said sternly, "it is too late, or too early. See!"
Here he held up the little golden crucifix.
"This was stolen in the night."
"How stolen,"I asked in wonder,"since you have it now?"
"Because I get it back from the worthless wretch who stole it,
from the woman who robbed the dead and the living. Her punishment
will surely come, but not through me. She knew not altogether what
she did, and thus unknowing, she only stole. Now we must wait." He
went away on the word, leaving me with a new mystery to think of, a
new puzzle to grapple with.
The forenoon was a dreary time, but at noon the solicitor came,
Mr. Marquand, of Wholeman, Sons, Marquand & Lidderdale. He was
very genial and very appreciative of what we had done, and took off
our hands all cares as to details. During lunch he told us that
Mrs. Westenra had for some time expected sudden death from her
heart, and had put her affairs in absolute order. He informed us
that, with the exception of a certain entailed property of Lucy's
father which now, in default of direct issue, went back to a
distant branch of the family, the whole estate, real and personal,
was left absolutely to Arthur Holmwood. When he had told us so much
he went on,
"Frankly we did our best to prevent such a testamentary
disposition, and pointed out certain contingencies that might leave
her daughter either penniless or not so free as she should be to
act regarding a matrimonial alliance. Indeed, we pressed the matter
so far that we almost came into collision, for she asked us if we
were or were not prepared to carry out her wishes. Of course, we
had then no alternative but to accept. We were right in principle,
and ninety-nine times out of a hundred we should have proved, by
the logic of events, the accuracy of our judgment.the logic of events, the accuracy of our judgment.
"Frankly, however, I must admit that in this case any other form
of disposition would have rendered impossible the carrying out of
her wishes. For by her predeceasing her daughter the latter would
have come into possession of the property, and, even had she only
survived her mother by five minutes, her property would, in case
there were no will, and a will was a practical impossibility in
such a case, have been treated at her decease as under intestacy.
In which case Lord Godalming, though so dear a friend, would have
had no claim in the world. And the inheritors, being remote, would
not be likely to abandon their just rights, for sentimental reasons
regarding an entire stranger. I assure you, my dear sirs, I am
rejoiced at the result,perfectly rejoiced."
He was a good fellow, but his rejoicing at the one little part,
in which he was officially interested, of so great a tragedy, was
an object-lesson in the limitations of sympathetic
understanding.
He did not remain long, but said he would look in later in the
day and see Lord Godalming. His coming, however, had been a certain
comfort to us, since it assured us that we should not have to dread
hostile criticism as to any of our acts. Arthur was expected at
five o'clock, so a little before that time we visited the death
chamber. It was so in very truth, for now both mother and daughter
lay in it. The undertaker, true to his craft, had made the best
display he could of his goods, and there was a mortuary air about
the place that lowered our spirits at once.
Van Helsing ordered the former arrangement to be adhered to,
explaining that, as Lord Godalming was coming very soon, it would
be less harrowing to his feelings to see all that was left of his
fiancee quite alone.
The undertaker seemed shocked at his own stupidity and exerted
himself to restore things to the condition in which we left them
the night before, so that when Arthur came such shocks to his
feelings as we could avoid were saved. |
feelings as we could avoid were saved.
Poor fellow! He looked desperately sad and broken. Even his
stalwart manhood seemed to have shrunk somewhat under the strain of
his much-tried emotions. He had, I knew, been very genuinely and
devotedly attached to his father, and to lose him, and at such a
time, was a bitter blow to him. With me he was warm as ever, and to
Van Helsing he was sweetly courteous. But I could not help seeing
that there was some constraint with him. The professor noticed it
too, and motioned me to bring him upstairs. I did so, and left him
at the door of the room, as I felt he would like to be quite alone
with her, but he took my arm and led me in, saying huskily,
"You loved her too, old fellow. She told me all about it, and
there was no friend had a closer place in her heart than you. I
don't know how to thank you for all you have done for her. I can't
think yet … "
Here he suddenly broke down, and threw his arms round my
shoulders and laid his head on my breast, crying, "Oh, Jack! Jack!
What shall I do? The whole of life seems gone from me all at once,
and there is nothing in the wide world for me to live for."
I comforted him as well as I could. In such cases men do not
need much expression. A grip of the hand, the tightening of an arm
over the shoulder, a sob in unison, are expressions of sympathy
dear to a man's heart. I stood still and silent till his sobs died
away, and then I said softly to him, "Come and look at her."
Together we moved over to the bed, and I lifted the lawn from
her face. God! How beautiful she was. Every hour seemed to be
enhancing her loveliness. It frightened and amazed me somewhat. And
as for Arthur, he fell to trembling, and finally was shaken with
doubt as with an ague. At last, after a long pause, he said to me
in a faint whisper,"Jack, is she really dead?"
I assured him sadly that it was so, and went on to suggest, for
I felt that such a horrible doubt should not have life for a moment
longer than I could help, that it often happened that after deathlonger than I could help, that it often happened that after death
faces become softened and even resolved into their youthful beauty,
that this was especially so when death had been preceded by any
acute or prolonged suffering. I seemed to quite do away with any
doubt, and after kneeling beside the couch for a while and looking
at her lovingly and long, he turned aside. I told him that that
must be goodbye, as the coffin had to be prepared, so he went back
and took her dead hand in his and kissed it, and bent over and
kissed her forehead. He came away, fondly looking back over his
shoulder at her as he came.
I left him in the drawing room, and told Van Helsing that he had
said goodbye, so the latter went to the kitchen to tell the
undertaker's men to proceed with the preperations and to screw up
the coffin. When he came out of the room again I told him of
Arthur's question, and he replied, "I am not surprised. Just now I
doubted for a moment myself!"
We all dined together, and I could see that poor Art was trying
to make the best of things. Van Helsing had been silent all dinner
time, but when we had lit our cigars he said, "Lord … , but
Arthur interrupted him.
"No, no, not that, for God's sake! Not yet at any rate. Forgive
me, sir. I did not mean to speak offensively. It is only because my
loss is so recent."
The Professor answered very sweetly, "I only used that name
because I was in doubt. I must not call you `Mr.' and I have grown
to love you, yes, my dear boy, to love you, as Arthur."
Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man's warmly. "Call
me what you will," he said. "I hope I may always have the title of
a friend. And let me say that I am at a loss for words to thank you
for your goodness to my poor dear." He paused a moment, and went
on, "I know that she understood your goodness even better than I
do. And if I was rude or in any way wanting at that time you acted
so, you remember,"— the Professor nodded—"You must forgive me."
He answered with a grave kindness, "I know it was hard for youHe answered with a grave kindness, "I know it was hard for you
to quite trust me then, for to trust such violence needs to
understand, and I take it that you do not, that you cannot, trust
me now, for you do not yet understand. And there may be more times
when I shall want you to trust when you cannot, and may not, and
must not yet understand. But the time will come when your trust
shall be whole and complete in me, and when you shall understand as
though the sunlight himself shone through. Then you shall bless me
from first to last for your own sake, and for the sake of others,
and for her dear sake to whom I swore to protect."
"And indeed, indeed, sir," said Arthur warmly. "I shall in all
ways trust you. I know and believe you have a very noble heart, and
you are Jack's friend, and you were hers. You shall do what you
like."
The Professor cleared his throat a couple of times, as though
about to speak, and finally said, "May I ask you something
now?"
"Certainly."
"You know that Mrs. Westenra left you all her property?"
"No, poor dear. I never thought of it."
"And as it is all yours, you have a right to deal with it as you
will. I want you to give me permission to read all Miss Lucy's
papers and letters. Believe me, it is no idle curiosity. I have a
motive of which, be sure, she would have approved. I have them all
here. I took them before we knew that all was yours, so that no
strange hand might touch them, no strange eye look through words
into her soul. I shall keep them, if I may. Even you may not see
them yet, but I shall keep them safe. No word shall be lost, and in
the good time I shall give them back to you. It is a hard thing
that I ask, but you will do it, will you not, for Lucy's sake?"
Arthur spoke out heartily, like his old self, "Dr. Van Helsing,
you may do what you will. I feel that in saying this I am doing
what my dear one would have approved. I shall not trouble you with
questions till the time comes."
The old Professor stood up as he said solemnly,"And you are |
questions till the time comes."
The old Professor stood up as he said solemnly,"And you are
right. There will be pain for us all, but it will not be all pain,
nor will this pain be the last. We and you too, you most of all,
dear boy, will have to pass through the bitter water before we
reach the sweet. But we must be brave of heart and unselfish, and
do our duty, and all will be well!"
I slept on a sofa in Arthur's room that night. Van Helsing did
not go to bed at all. He went to and fro, as if patroling the
house, and was never out of sight of the room where Lucy lay in her
coffin, strewn with the wild garlic flowers, which sent through the
odor of lily and rose, a heavy, overpowering smell into the
night.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
22 September.—In the train to Exeter. Jonathan sleeping. It
seems only yesterday that the last entry was made, and yet how much
between then, in Whitby and all the world before me, Jonathan away
and no news of him, and now, married to Jonathan, Jonathan a
solicitor, a partner, rich, master of his business, Mr. Hawkins
dead and buried, and Jonathan with another attack that may harm
him. Some day he may ask me about it. Down it all goes. I am rusty
in my shorthand, see what unexpected prosperity does for us, so it
may be as well to freshen it up again with an exercise anyhow.
The service was very simple and very solemn. There were only
ourselves and the servants there, one or two old friends of his
from Exeter, his London agent, and a gentleman representing Sir
John Paxton, the President of the Incorporated Law Society.
Jonathan and I stood hand in hand, and we felt that our best and
dearest friend was gone from us.
We came back to town quietly, taking a bus to Hyde Park Corner.
Jonathan thought it would interest me to go into the Row for a
while, so we sat down. But there were very few people there, and it
was sad-looking and desolate to see so many empty chairs. It made
us think of the empty chair at home. So we got up and walked downus think of the empty chair at home. So we got up and walked down
Piccadilly. Jonathan was holding me by the arm, the way he used to
in the old days before I went to school. I felt it very improper,
for you can't go on for some years teaching etiquette and decorum
to other girls without the pedantry of it biting into yourself a
bit. But it was Jonathan, and he was my husband, and we didn't know
anybody who saw us, and we didn't care if they did, so on we
walked. I was looking at a very beautiful girl, in a big cart-wheel
hat, sitting in a victoria outside Guiliano's, when I felt Jonathan
clutch my arm so tight that he hurt me, and he said under his
breath, "My God!"
I am always anxious about Jonathan, for I fear that some nervous
fit may upset him again. So I turned to him quickly, and asked him
what it was that disturbed him.
He was very pale, and his eyes seemed bulging out as, half in
terror and half in amazement, he gazed at a tall, thin man, with a
beaky nose and black moustache and pointed beard, who was also
observing the pretty girl. He was looking at her so hard that he
did not see either of us, and so I had a good view of him. His face
was not a good face. It was hard, and cruel, and sensual,and big
white teeth, that looked all the whiter because his lips were so
red, were pointed like an animal's. Jonathan kept staring at him,
till I was afraid he would notice. I feared he might take it ill,
he looked so fierce and nasty. I asked Jonathan why he was
disturbed, and he answered, evidently thinking that I knew as much
about it as he did, "Do you see who it is?"
"No, dear," I said. "I don't know him, who is it?" His answer
seemed to shock and thrill me, for it was said as if he did not
know that it was me, Mina, to whom he was speaking. "It is the man
himself!"
The poor dear was evidently terrified at something, very greatly
terrified. I do believe that if he had not had me to lean on and to
support him he would have sunk down. He kept staring. A man camesupport him he would have sunk down. He kept staring. A man came
out of the shop with a small parcel, and gave it to the lady, who
then drove off. Th e dark man kept his eyes fixed on her, and when
the carriage moved up Piccadilly he followed in the same direction,
and hailed a hansom. Jonathan kept looking after him, and said, as
if to himself,
"I believe it is the Count, but he has grown young. My God, if
this be so! Oh, my God! My God! If only I knew! If only I knew!" He
was distressing himself so much that I feared to keep his mind on
the subject by asking him any questions, so I remained silent. I
drew away quietly, and he, holding my arm, came easily. We walked a
little further, and then went in and sat for a while in the Green
Park. It was a hot day for autumn, and there was a comfortable seat
in a shady place. After a few minutes' staring at nothing,
Jonathan's eyes closed, and he went quickly into a sleep, with his
head on my shoulder. I thought it was the best thing for him, so
did not disturb him. In about twenty minutes he woke up, and said
to me quite cheerfully,
"Why, Mina, have I been asleep! Oh, do forgive me for being so
rude. Come, and we'll have a cup of tea somewhere."
He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger, as in
his illness he had forgotten all that this episode had reminded him
of. I don't like this lapsing into forgetfulness. It may make or
continue some injury to the brain. I must not ask him, for fear I
shall do more harm than good, but I must somehow learn the facts of
his journey abroad. The time is come, I fear, when I must open the
parcel, and know what is written. Oh, Jonathan, you will, I know,
forgive me if I do wrong, but it is for your own dear sake.
Later.—A sad home-coming in every way, the house empty of the
dear soul who was so good to us. Jonathan still pale and dizzy
under a slight relapse of his malady, and now a telegram from Van
Helsing, whoever he may be. "You will be grieved to hear that Mrs. |
Helsing, whoever he may be. "You will be grieved to hear that Mrs.
Westenra died five days ago, and that Lucy died the day before
yesterday. They were both buried today."
Oh, what a wealth of sorrow in a few words! Poor Mrs. Westenra!
Poor Lucy! Gone, gone, never to return to us! And poor, poor
Arthur, to have lost such a sweetness out of his life! God help us
all to bear our troubles.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY-CONT.
22 September.—It is all over. Arthur has gone back to Ring, and
has taken Quincey Morris with him. What a fine fellow is Quincey! I
believe in my heart of hearts that he suffered as much about Lucy's
death as any of us, but he bore himself through it like a moral
Viking. If America can go on breeding men like that, she will be a
power in the world indeed. Van Helsing is lying down, having a rest
preparatory to his journey. He goes to Amsterdam tonight, but says
he returns tomorrow night, that he only wants to make some
arrangements which can only be made personally. He is to stop with
me then, if he can. He says he has work to do in London which may
take him some time. Poor old fellow! I fear that the strain of the
past week has broken down even his iron strength. All the time of
the burial he was, I could see, putting some terrible restraint on
himself. When it was all over, we were standing beside Arthur, who,
poor fellow, was speaking of his part in the operation where his
blood had been transfused to his Lucy's veins. I could see Van
Helsing's face grow white and purple by turns. Arthur was saying
that he felt since then as if they two had been really married, and
that she was his wife in the sight of God. None of us said a word
of the other operations, and none of us ever shall. Arthur and
Quincey went away together to the station, and Van Helsing and I
came on here. The moment we were alone in the carriage he gave way
to a regular fit of hysterics. He has denied to me since that it
was hysterics, and insisted that it was only his sense of humorwas hysterics, and insisted that it was only his sense of humor
asserting itself under very terrible conditions. He laughed till he
cried, and I had to draw down the blinds lest any one should see us
and misjudge. And then he cried, till he laughed again, and laughed
and cried together, just as a woman does. I tried to be stern with
him, as one is to a woman under the circumstances, but it had no
effect. Men and women are so different in manifestations of nervous
strength or weakness! Then when his face grew grave and stern again
I asked him why his mirth, and why at such a time. His reply was in
a way characteristic of him, for it was logical and forceful and
mysterious. He said,
"Ah, you don't comprehend, friend John. Do not think that I am
not sad, though I laugh. See, I have cried even when the laugh did
choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the
laugh he come just the same. Keep it always with you that laughter
who knock at your door and say, `May I come in?' is not true
laughter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He
ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, `I am
here.' Behold, in example I grieve my heart out for that so sweet
young girl. I give my blood for her, though I am old and worn. I
give my time, my skill, my sleep. I let my other sufferers want
that she may have all. And yet I can laugh at her very grave, laugh
when the clay from the spade of the sexton drop upon her coffin and
say `Thud, thud!' to my heart, till it send back the blood from my
cheek. My heart bleed for that poor boy, that dear boy, so of the
age of mine own boy had I been so blessed that he live, and with
his hair and eyes the same.
"There, you know now why I love him so. And yet when he say
things that touch my husband-heart to the quick, and make my
father-heart yearn to him as to no other man, not even you, friend
John, for we are more level in experiences than father and son, yet
even at such a moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and belloweven at such a moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and bellow
in my ear,`Here I am! Here I am!' till the blood come dance back
and bring some of the sunshine that he carry with him to my cheek.
Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full
of miseries, and woes, and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come,
he make them all dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and
dry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall, all
dance together to the music that he make with that smileless mouth
of him. And believe me, friend John, that he is good to come, and
kind. Ah, we men and women are like ropes drawn tight with strain
that pull us different ways. Then tears come, and like the rain on
the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain become too
great, and we break. But King Laugh he come like the sunshine, and
he ease off the strain again, and we bear to go on with our labor,
what it may be."
I did not like to wound him by pretending not to see his idea,
but as I did not yet understand the cause of his laughter, I asked
him. As he answered me his face grew stern, and he said in quite a
different tone,
"Oh, it was the grim irony of it all,this so lovely lady
garlanded with flowers, that looked so fair as life, till one by
one we wondered if she were truly dead, she laid in that so fine
marble house in that lonely churchyard, where rest so many of her
kin, laid there with the mother who loved her, and whom she loved,
and that sacred bell going "Toll! Toll! Toll!' so sad and slow, and
those holy men, with the white garments of the angel, pretending to
read books, and yet all the time their eyes never on the page, and
all of us with the bowed head. And all for what? She is dead, so!
Is it not?"
"Well, for the life of me, Professor," I said, "I can't see
anything to laugh at in all that. Why, your expression makes it a
harder puzzle than before. But even if the burial service was
comic, what about poor Art and his trouble? Why his heart was
simply breaking." |
comic, what about poor Art and his trouble? Why his heart was
simply breaking."
"Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to her
veins had made her truly his bride?"
"Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him."
"Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so that,
then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this so sweet maid is a
polyandrist, and me,with my poor wife dead to me, but alive by
Church's law, though no wits, all gone, even I, who am faithful
husband to this now-no-wife, am bigamist."
"I don't see where the joke comes in there either!" I said, and
I did not feel particularly pleased with him for saying such
things. He laid his hand on my arm, and said,
"Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not my feeling to
others when it would wound, but only to you, my old friend, whom I
can trust. If you could have looked into my heart then when I want
to laugh, if you could have done so when the laugh arrived, if you
could do so now, when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and all
that is to him, for he go far, far away from me, and for a long,
long time, maybe you would perhaps pity me the most of all."
I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and asked why.
"Because I know!"
And now we are all scattered, and for many a long day loneliness
will sit over our roofs with brooding wings. Lucy lies in the tomb
of her kin, a lordly death house in a lonely churchyard, away from
teeming London, where the air is fresh, and the sun rises over
Hampstead Hill, and where wild flowers grow of their own
accord.
So I can finish this diary, and God only knows if I shall ever
begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it will be to
deal with different people and different themes, for here at the
end, where the romance of my life is told, ere I go back to take up
the thread of my life-work, I say sadly and without hope,
"FINIS".
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY
The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised withThe neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised with
a series of events which seem to run on lines parallel to those of
what was known to the writers of headlines and "The Kensington
Horror," or "The Stabbing Woman," or "The Woman in Black." During
the past two or three days several cases have occurred of young
children straying from home or neglecting to return from their
playing on the Heath. In all these cases the children were too
young to give any properly intelligible account of themselves, but
the consensus of their excuses is that they had been with a
"bloofer lady." It has always been late in the evening when they
have been missed, and on two occasions the children have not been
found until early in the following morning. It is generally
supposed in the neighborhood that, as the first child missed gave
as his reason for being away that a "bloofer lady" had asked him to
come for a walk, the others had picked up the phrase and used it as
occasion served. This is the more natural as the favorite game of
the little ones at present is luring each other away by wiles. A
correspondent writes us that to see some of the tiny tots
pretending to be the "bloofer lady" is supremely funny. Some of our
caricaturists might, he says, take a lesson in the irony of
grotesque by comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in
accordance with general principles of human nature that the
"bloofer lady" should be the popular role at these al fresco
performances. Our correspondent naively says that even Ellen Terry
could not be so winningly attractive as some of these grubby-faced
little children pretend, and even imagine themselves, to be.
There is, however, possibly a serious side to the question, for
some of the children, indeed all who have been missed at night,
have been slightly torn or wounded in the throat. The wounds seem
such as might be made by a rat or a small dog, and although of not
much importance individually, would tend to show that whatevermuch importance individually, would tend to show that whatever
animal inflicts them has a system or method of its own. The police
of the division have been instructed to keep a sharp lookout for
straying children, especially when very young, in and around
Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog which may be about.
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER EXTRA SPECIAL
THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR
ANOTHER CHILD INJURED
THE "BLOOFER LADY"
We have just received intelligence that another child, missed
last night, was only discovered late in the morning under a furze
bush at the Shooter's Hill side of Hampstead Heath, which is
perhaps, less frequented than the other parts. It has the same tiny
wound in the throat as has been noticed in other cases. It was
terribly weak, and looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially
restored, had the common story to tell of being lured away by the
"bloofer lady".23 September.—Jonathan is better after a bad night. I am so glad
that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps his mind off the
terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that he is not now weighed
down with the responsibility of his new position. I knew he would
be true to himself, and now how proud I am to see my Jonathan
rising to the height of his advancement and keeping pace in all
ways with the duties that come upon him. He will be away all day
till late, for he said he could not lunch at home. My household
work is done, so I shall take his foreign journal, and lock myself
up in my room and read it.
24 September.—I hadn't the heart to write last night, that
terrible record of Jonathan's upset me so. Poor dear! How he must
have suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if
there is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and
then write all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it
all? I suppose I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject
to him. And yet that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain
of him, poor fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and
sent his mind back on some train of thought.
He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding day he
said "Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter
hours, asleep or awake, mad or sane … " There seems to be
through it all some thread of continuity. That fearful Count was
coming to London. If it should be, and he came to London, with its
teeming millions … There may be a solemn duty, and if it come
we must not shrink from it. I shall be prepared. I shall get my
typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing. Then we shall be
ready for other eyes if required. And if it be wanted, then,
perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can
speak for him and never let him be troubled or worried with it at
all. If ever Jonathan quite gets over the nervousness he may want
to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out |
to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out
things, and see how I may comfort him.
LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER
24 September
(Confidence)
"Dear Madam,
"I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far friend as
that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy Westenra's death. By the
kindness of Lord Godalming, I am empowered to read her letters and
papers, for I am deeply concerned about certain matters vitally
important. In them I find some letters from you, which show how
great friends you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam Mina, by
that love, I implore you, help me. It is for others' good that I
ask, to redress great wrong, and to lift much and terrible
troubles, that may be more great than you can know. May it be that
I see you? You can trust me. I am friend of Dr. John Seward and of
Lord Godalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I must keep it
private for the present from all. I should come to Exeter to see
you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, and where and
when. I implore your pardon, Madam. I have read your letters to
poor Lucy, and know how good you are and how your husband suffer.
So I pray you, if it may be, enlighten him not, least it may harm.
Again your pardon, and forgive me.
"VAN HELSING"
TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING
25 September.—Come today by quarter past ten train if you can
catch it. Can see you any time you call. "WILHELMINA HARKER"
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
25 September.—I cannot help feeling terribly excited as the time
draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing, for somehow I expect
that it will throw some light upon Jonathan's sad experience, and
as he attended poor dear Lucy in her last illness, he can tell me
all about her. That is the reason of his coming. It is concerning
Lucy and her sleepwalking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall
never know the real truth now! How silly I am. That awful journal
gets hold of my imagination and tinges everything with something of
its own color. Of course it is about Lucy. That habit came back toits own color. Of course it is about Lucy. That habit came back to
the poor dear, and that awful night on the cliff must have made her
ill. I had almost forgotten in my own affairs how ill she was
afterwards. She must have told him of her sleep-walking adventure
on the cliff, and that I knew all about it, and now he wants me to
tell him what I know, so that he may understand. I hope I did right
in not saying anything of it to Mrs. Westenra. I should never
forgive myself if any act of mine, were it even a negative one,
brought harm on poor dear Lucy. I hope too, Dr. Van Helsing will
not blame me. I have had so much trouble and anxiety of late that I
feel I cannot bear more just at present.
I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the air as
other rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal yesterday that
upset me, and then Jonathan went away this morning to stay away
from me a whole day and night, the first time we have been parted
since our marriage. I do hope the dear fellow will take care of
himself, and that nothing will occur to upset him. It is two
o'clock, and the doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing
of Jonathan's journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have
typewritten out my own journal, so that, in case he asks about
Lucy, I can hand it to him. It will save much questioning.
Later.—He has come and gone. Oh, what a strange meeting, and how
it all makes my head whirl round. I feel like one in a dream. Can
it be all possible, or even a part of it? If I had not read
Jonathan's journal first, I should never have accepted even a
possibility. Poor, poor, dear Jonathan! How he must have suffered.
Please the good God, all this may not upset him again. I shall try
to save him from it. But it may be even a consolation and a help to
him, terrible though it be and awful in its consequences, to know
for certain that his eyes and ears and brain did not deceive him,
and that it is all true. It may be that it is the doubt which
haunts him, that when the doubt is removed, no matter which, wakinghaunts him, that when the doubt is removed, no matter which, waking
or dreaming, may prove the truth, he will be more satisfied and
better able to bear the shock. Dr. Van Helsing must be a good man
as well as a clever one if he is Arthur's friend and Dr. Seward's,
and if they brought him all the way from Holland to look after
Lucy. I feel from having seen him that he is good and kind and of a
noble nature. When he comes tomorrow I shall ask him about
Jonathan. And then, please God, all this sorrow and anxiety may
lead to a good end. I used to think I would like to practice
interviewing. Jonathan's friend on "The Exeter News" told him that
memory is everything in such work, that you must be able to put
down exactly almost every word spoken, even if you had to refine
some of it afterwards. Here was a rare interview. I shall try to
record it verbatim.
It was half-past two o'clock when the knock came. I took my
courage a deux mains and waited. In a few minutes Mary opened the
door, and announced "Dr. Van Helsing".
I rose and bowed, and he came towards me, a man of medium
weight, strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad,
deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on
the neck. The poise of the head strikes me at once as indicative of
thought and power. The head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large
behind the ears. The face, cleanshaven, shows a hard, square chin,
a large resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight,
but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big
bushy brows come down and the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad
and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back
above two bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the
reddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally
back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart,
and are quick and tender or stern with the man's moods. He said to
me,
"Mrs. Harker, is it not?" I bowed assent.
"That was Miss Mina Murray?" Again I assented. |
me,
"Mrs. Harker, is it not?" I bowed assent.
"That was Miss Mina Murray?" Again I assented.
"It is Mina Murray that I came to see that was friend of that
poor dear child Lucy Westenra. Madam Mina, it is on account of the
dead that I come."
"Sir," I said, "you could have no better claim on me than that
you were a friend and helper of Lucy Westenra."And I held out my
hand. He took it and said tenderly,
"Oh, Madam Mina, I know that the friend of that poor little girl
must be good, but I had yet to learn … " He finished his
speech with a courtly bow. I asked him what it was that he wanted
to see me about, so he at once began.
"I have read your letters to Miss Lucy. Forgive me, but I had to
begin to inquire somewhere, and there was none to ask. I know that
you were with her at Whitby. She sometimes kept a diary, you need
not look surprised, Madam Mina. It was begun after you had left,
and was an imitation of you, and in that diary she traces by
inference certain things to a sleep-walking in which she puts down
that you saved her. In great perplexity then I come to you, and ask
you out of your so much kindness to tell me all of it that you can
remember."
"I can tell you, I think, Dr. Van Helsing, all about it."
"Ah, then you have good memory for facts, for details? It is not
always so with young ladies."
"No, doctor, but I wrote it all down at the time. I can show it
to you if you like."
"Oh, Madam Mina, I well be grateful. You will do me much
favor."
I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I
suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still
in our mouths, so I handed him the shorthand diary. He took it with
a grateful bow, and said, "May I read it?"
"If you wish," I answered as demurely as I could. He opened it,
and for an instant his face fell. Then he stood up and bowed.
"Oh, you so clever woman!" he said. "I knew long that Mr.
Jonathan was a man of much thankfulness, but see, his wife have all
the good things. And will you not so much honor me and so help methe good things. And will you not so much honor me and so help me
as to read it for me? Alas! I know not the shorthand."
By this time my little joke was over, and I was almost ashamed.
So I took the typewritten copy from my work basket and handed it to
him.
"Forgive me," I said. "I could not help it, but I had been
thinking that it was of dear Lucy that you wished to ask, and so
that you might not have time to wait, not on my account, but
because I know your time must be precious, I have written it out on
the typewriter for you."
He took it and his eyes glistened. "You are so good," he said.
"And may I read it now? I may want to ask you some things when I
have read."
"By all means," I said. "read it over whilst I order lunch, and
then you can ask me questions whilst we eat."
He bowed and settled himself in a chair with his back to the
light, and became so absorbed in the papers, whilst I went to see
after lunch chiefly in order that he might not be disturbed. When I
came back, I found him walking hurriedly up and down the room, his
face all ablaze with excitement. He rushed up to me and took me by
both hands.
"Oh, Madam Mina," he said, "how can I say what I owe to you?
This paper is as sunshine. It opens the gate to me. I am dazed, I
am dazzled, with so much light, and yet clouds roll in behind the
light every time. But that you do not, cannot comprehend. Oh, but I
am grateful to you, you so clever woman. Madame," he said this very
solemnly, "if ever Abraham Van Helsing can do anything for you or
yours, I trust you will let me know. It will be pleasure and
delight if I may serve you as a friend, as a friend, but all I have
ever learned, all I can ever do, shall be for you and those you
love. There are darknesses in life, and there are lights. You are
one of the lights. You will have a happy life and a good life, and
your husband will be blessed in you."
"But, doctor, you praise me too much, and you do not know
me."
"Not know you, I, who am old, and who have studied all my lifeme."
"Not know you, I, who am old, and who have studied all my life
men and women, I who have made my specialty the brain and all that
belongs to him and all that follow from him! And I have read your
diary that you have so goodly written for me, and which breathes
out truth in every line. I, who have read your so sweet letter to
poor Lucy of your marriage and your trust, not know you! Oh, Madam
Mina, good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and
by minute, such things that angels can read. And we men who wish to
know have in us something of angels' eyes. Your husband is noble
nature, and you are noble too, for you trust, and trust cannot be
where there is mean nature. And your husband, tell me of him. Is he
quite well? Is all that fever gone, and is he strong and
hearty?"
I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so I said,"He
was almost recovered, but he has been greatly upset by Mr. Hawkins
death."
He interrupted, "Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have read your last
two letters."
I went on, "I suppose this upset him, for when we were in town
on Thursday last he had a sort of shock."
"A shock, and after brain fever so soon! That is not good. What
kind of shock was it?"
"He thought he saw some one who recalled something terrible,
something which led to his brain fever." And here the whole thing
seemed to overwhelm me in a rush. The pity for Jonathan, the horror
which he experienced, the whole fearful mystery of his diary, and
the fear that has been brooding over me ever since, all came in a
tumult. I suppose I was hysterical, for I threw myself on my knees
and held up my hands to him, and implored him to make my husband
well again. He took my hands and raised me up, and made me sit on
the sofa, and sat by me. He held my hand in his, and said to me
with, oh, such infinite sweetness,
"My life is a barren and lonely one, and so full of work that I
have not had much time for friendships, but since I have been
summoned to here by my friend John Seward I have known so many good |
summoned to here by my friend John Seward I have known so many good
people and seen such nobility that I feel more than ever, and it
has grown with my advancing years, the loneliness of my life.
Believe me, then, that I come here full of respect for you, and you
have given me hope, hope, not in what I am seeking of, but that
there are good women still left to make life happy, good women,
whose lives and whose truths may make good lesson for the children
that are to be. I am glad, glad, that I may here be of some use to
you. For if your husband suffer, he suffer within the range of my
study and experience. I promise you that I will gladly do all for
him that I can, all to make his life strong and manly, and your
life a happy one. Now you must eat. You are over-wrought and
perhaps over-anxious. Husband Jonathan would not like to see you so
pale, and what he like not where he love, is not to his good.
Therefore for his sake you must eat and smile. You have told me
about Lucy, and so now we shall not speak of it, lest it distress.
I shall stay in Exeter tonight, for I want to think much over what
you have told me, and when I have thought I will ask you questions,
if I may. And then too, you will tell me of husband Jonathan's
trouble so far as you can, but not yet. You must eat now,
afterwards you shall tell me all."
After lunch, when we went back to the drawing room, he said to
me, "And now tell me all about him."
When it came to speaking to this great learned man, I began to
fear that he would think me a weak fool, and Jonathan a madman,
that journal is all so strange, and I hesitated to go on. But he
was so sweet and kind, and he had promised to help, and I trusted
him, so I said,
"Dr. Van Helsing, what I have to tell you is so queer that you
must not laugh at me or at my husband. I have been since yesterday
in a sort of fever of doubt. You must be kind to me, and not think
me foolish that I have even half believed some very strange
things."
He reassured me by his manner as well as his words when he said,things."
He reassured me by his manner as well as his words when he said,
"Oh, my dear, if you only know how strange is the matter regarding
which I am here, it is you who would laugh. I have learned not to
think little of any one's belief, no matter how strange it may be.
I have tried to keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary
things of life that could close it, but the strange things, the
extraordinary things, the things that make one doubt if they be mad
or sane."
"Thank you, thank you a thousand times! You have taken a weight
off my mind. If you will let me, I shall give you a paper to read.
It is long, but I have typewritten it out. It will tell you my
trouble and Jonathan's. It is the copy of his journal when abroad,
and all that happened. I dare not say anything of it. You will read
for yourself and judge. And then when I see you, perhaps, you will
be very kind and tell me what you think."
"I promise," he said as I gave him the papers. "I shall in the
morning, as soon as I can, come to see you and your husband, if I
may."
"Jonathan will be here at half-past eleven, and you must come to
lunch with us and see him then. You could catch the quick 3:34
train, which will leave you at Paddington before eight." He was
surprised at my knowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not
know that I have made up all the trains to and from Exeter, so that
I may help Jonathan in case he is in a hurry.
So he took the papers with him and went away, and I sit here
thinking, thinking I don't know what.
LETTER (by hand), VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER
25 September, 6 o'clock
"Dear Madam Mina,
"I have read your husband's so wonderful diary. You may sleep
without doubt. Strange and terrible as it is, it is true! I will
pledge my life on it. It may be worse for others, but for him and
you there is no dread. He is a noble fellow, and let me tell you
from experience of men, that one who would do as he did in going
down that wall and to that room, aye, and going a second time, isdown that wall and to that room, aye, and going a second time, is
not one to be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his
heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seen him, so
be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of other things. I am
blessed that today I come to see you, for I have learn all at once
so much that again I am dazzled, dazzled more than ever, and I must
think.
"Yours the most faithful,
"Abraham Van Helsing."
LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING
25 September, 6:30 p. m.
"My dear Dr. Van Helsing,
"A thousand thanks for your kind letter, which has taken a great
weight off my mind. And yet, if it be true, what terrible things
there are in the world, and what an awful thing if that man, that
monster, be really in London! I fear to think. I have this moment,
whilst writing, had a wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by
the 6:25 tonight from Launceston and will be here at 10:18,so that
I shall have no fear tonight. Will you, therefore, instead of
lunching with us, please come to breakfast at eight o'clock, if
this be not too early for you? You can get away, if you are in a
hurry, by the 10:30 train, which will bring you to Paddington by
2:35. Do not answer this, as I shall take it that, if I do not
hear, you will come to breakfast.
"Believe me,
"Your faithful and grateful friend,
"Mina Harker."
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
26 September.—I thought never to write in this diary again, but
the time has come. When I got home last night Mina had supper
ready, and when we had supped she told me of Van Helsing's visit,
and of her having given him the two diaries copied out, and of how
anxious she has been about me. She showed me in the doctor's letter
that all I wrote down was true. It seems to have made a new man of
me. It was the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that
knocked me over. I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful.
But, now that I know, I am not afraid, even of the Count. He has
succeeded after all, then, in his design in getting to London, and |
succeeded after all, then, in his design in getting to London, and
it was he I saw. He has got younger, and how? Van Helsing is the
man to unmask him and hunt him out, if he is anything like what
Mina says. We sat late, and talked it over. Mina is dressing, and I
shall call at the hotel in a few minutes and bring him over.
He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I came into the room
whee he was, and introduced myself, he took me by the shoulder, and
turned my face round to the light, and said, after a sharp
scrutiny,
"But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you had had a
shock."
It was so funny to hear my wife called `Madam Mina' by this
kindly, strong-faced old man. I smiled, and said, "I was ill, I
have had a shock, but you have cured me already."
"And how?"
"By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and then
everything took a hue of unreality, and I did not know what to
trust, even the evidence of my own senses. Not knowing what to
trust, I did not know what to do, and so had only to keep on
working in what had hitherto been the groove of my life. The groove
ceased to avail me, and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don't know
what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don't, you
couldn't with eyebrows like yours."
He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said, "So! You are a
physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour. I am with so much
pleasure coming to you to breakfast, and, oh, sir, you will pardon
praise from an old man, but you are blessed in your wife."
I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, so I simply
nodded and stood silent.
"She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us
men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and
that its light can be here on earth. So true, so sweet, so noble,
so little an egoist, and that, let me tell you, is much in this
age, so sceptical and selfish. And you, sir… I have read all the
letters to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I knowletters to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know
you since some days from the knowing of others, but I have seen
your true self since last night. You will give me your hand, will
you not? And let us be friends for all our lives."
We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made
me quite choky.
"and now," he said, "may I ask you for some more help? I have a
great task to do, and at the beginning it is to know. You can help
me here. Can you tell me what went before your going to
Transylvania? Later on I may ask more help, and of a different
kind, but at first this will do."
"Look here, Sir," I said, "does what you have to do concern the
Count?"
"It does," he said solemnly."
"Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go by the 10:30
train, you will not have time to read them, but I shall get the
bundle of papers. You can take them with you and read them in the
train."
After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we were parting
he said, "Perhaps you will come to town if I send for you, and take
Madam Mina too."
"We shall both come when you will," I said.
I had got him the morning papers and the London papers of the
previous night, and while we were talking at the carriage window,
waiting for the train to start, he was turning them over. His eyes
suddenly seemed to catch something in one of them, "The Westminster
Gazette", I knew it by the color, and he grew quite white. He read
something intently, groaning to himself, "Mein Gott! Mein Gott! So
soon! So soon!" I do not think he remembered me at the moment. Just
then the whistle blew, and the train moved off. This recalled him
to himself, and he leaned out of the window and waved his hand,
calling out, "Love to Madam Mina. I shall write so soon as ever I
can."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
26 September.—Truly there is no such thing as finality. Not a
week since I said "Finis," and yet here I am starting fresh again,
or rather going on with the record. Until this afternoon I had no
cause to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to allcause to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to all
intents, as sane as he ever was. He was already well ahead with his
fly business, and he had just started in the spider line also, so
he had not been of any trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur,
written on Sunday, and from it I gather that he is bearing up
wonderfully well. Quincey Morris is with him, and that is much of a
help, for he himself is a bubbling well of good spirits. Quincey
wrote me a line too, and from him I hear that Arthur is beginning
to recover something of his old buoyancy, so as to them all my mind
is at rest. As for myself, I was settling down to my work with the
enthusiasm which I used to have for it, so that I might fairly have
said that the wound which poor Lucy left on me was becoming
cicatrised.
Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is to be the end
God only knows. I have an idea that Van Helsing thinks he knows,
too, but he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity.
He went to Exeter yesterday, and stayed there all night. Today he
came back, and almost bounded into the room at about half-past five
o'clock, and thrust last night's "Westminster Gazette" into my
hand.
"What do you think of that?" he asked as he stood back and
folded his arms.
I looked over the paper, for I really did not know what he
meant, but he took it from me and pointed out a paragraph about
children being decoyed away at Hampstead. It did not convey much to
me, until I reached a passage where it described small puncture
wounds on their throats. An idea struck me, and I looked up.
"Well?" he said.
"It is like poor Lucy's."
"And what do you make of it?"
"Simply that there is some cause in common. Whatever it was that
injured her has injured them." I did not quite understand his
answer.
"That is true indirectly, but not directly."
"How do you mean, Professor?" I asked. I was a little inclined
to take his seriousness lightly, for, after all, four days of rest
and freedom from burning, harrowing, anxiety does help to restore |
and freedom from burning, harrowing, anxiety does help to restore
one's spirits, but when I saw his face, it sobered me. Never, even
in the midst of our despair about poor Lucy, had he looked more
stern.
"Tell me!" I said. "I can hazard no opinion. I do not know what
to think, and I have no data on which to found a conjecture."
"Do you mean to tell me, friend John, that you have no suspicion
as to what poor Lucy died of, not after all the hints given, not
only by events, but by me?"
"Of nervous prostration following a great loss or waste of
blood."
"And how was the blood lost or wasted?" I shook my head.
He stepped over and sat down beside me, and went on,"You are a
clever man, friend John. You reason well, and your wit is bold, but
you are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears
hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account
to you. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot
understand, and yet which are,that some people see things that
others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be
contemplated by men's eyes, because they know, or think they know,
some things which other men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of
our science that it wants to explain all, and if it explain not,
then it says there is nothing to explain. But yet we see around us
every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new,
and which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young, like the
fine ladies at the opera. I suppose now you do not believe in
corporeal transference. No? Nor in materialization. No? Nor in
astral bodies. No? Nor in the reading of thought. No? Nor in
hypnotism … "
"Yes," I said. "Charcot has proved that pretty well."
He smiled as he went on, "Then you are satisfied as to it. Yes?
And of course then you understand how it act, and can follow the
mind of the great Charcot, alas that he is no more, into the very
soul of the patient that he influence. No? Then, friend John, am I
to take it that you simply accept fact, and are satisfied to letto take it that you simply accept fact, and are satisfied to let
from premise to conclusion be a blank? No? Then tell me, for I am a
student of the brain, how you accept hypnotism and reject the
thought reading. Let me tell you, my friend, that there are things
done today in electrical science which would have been deemed
unholy by the very man who discovered electricity, who would
themselves not so long before been burned as wizards. There are
always mysteries in life. Why was it that Methuselah lived nine
hundred years, and `Old Parr'one hundred and sixty-nine, and yet
that poor Lucy, with four men's blood in her poor veins, could not
live even one day? For, had she live one more day, we could save
her. Do you know all the mystery of life and death? Do you know the
altogether of comparative anatomy and can say wherefore the
qualities of brutes are in some men, and not in others? Can you
tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon, that one great
spider lived for centuries in the tower of the old Spanish church
and grew and grew, till, on descending, he could drink the oil of
all the church lamps? Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and
elsewhere, there are bats that come out at night and open the veins
of cattle and horses and suck dry their veins, how in some islands
of the Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day,
and those who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and
that when the sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot,
flit down on them and then, and then in the morning are found dead
men, white as even Miss Lucy was?"
"Good God, Professor!" I said, starting up. "Do you mean to tell
me that Lucy was bitten by such a bat, and that such a thing is
here in London in the nineteenth century?"
He waved his hand for silence, and went on,"Can you tell me why
the tortoise lives more long than generations of men, why the
elephant goes on and on till he have sees dynasties, and why the
parrot never die only of bite of cat of dog or other complaint? Canparrot never die only of bite of cat of dog or other complaint? Can
you tell me why men believe in all ages and places that there are
men and women who cannot die? We all know, because science has
vouched for the fact, that there have been toads shut up in rocks
for thousands of years, shut in one so small hole that only hold
him since the youth of the world. Can you tell me how the Indian
fakir can make himself to die and have been buried, and his grave
sealed and corn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut and
sown and reaped and cut again, and then men come and take away the
unbroken seal and that there lie the Indian fakir, not dead, but
that rise up and walk amongst them as before?"
Here I interrupted him. I was getting bewildered. He so crowded
on my mind his list of nature's eccentricities and possible
impossibilities that my imagination was getting fired. I had a dim
idea that he was teaching me some lesson, as long ago he used to do
in his study at Amsterdam. But he used them to tell me the thing,
so that I could have the object of thought in mind all the time.
But now I was without his help, yet I wanted to follow him, so I
said,
"Professor, let me be your pet student again. Tell me the
thesis, so that I may apply your knowledge as you go on. At present
I am going in my mind from point to point as a madman, and not a
sane one, follows an idea. I feel like a novice lumbering through a
bog in a midst, jumping from one tussock to another in the mere
blind effort to move on without knowing where I am going."
"That is a good image," he said. "Well, I shall tell you. My
thesis is this, I want you to believe."
"To believe what?"
"To believe in things that you cannot. Let me illustrate. I
heard once of an American who so defined faith, `that fac ulty
which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.' For
one, I follow that man. He meant that we shall have an open mind,
and not let a little bit of truth check the rush of the big truth,and not let a little bit of truth check the rush of the big truth,
like a small rock does a railway truck. We get the small truth
first. Good! We keep him, and we value him, but all the same we
must not let him think himself all the truth in the universe."
"Then you want me not to let some previous conviction inure the
receptivity of my mind with regard to some strange matter. Do I
read your lesson aright?"
"Ah, you are my favorite pupil still. It is worth to teach you.
Now that you are willing to understand, you have taken the first
step to understand. You think then that those so small holes in the
children's throats were made by the same that made the holes in
Miss Lucy?"
"I suppose so."
He stood up and said solemnly, "Then you are wrong. Oh, would it
were so! But alas! No. It is worse, far, far worse."
"In God's name, Professor Van Helsing, what do you mean?" I
cried.
He threw himself with a despairing gesture into a chair, and
placed his elbows on the table, covering his face with his hands as
he spoke.
"They were made by Miss Lucy!" |
For a while sheer anger mastered me. It was as if he had during
her life struck Lucy on the face. I smote the table hard and rose
up as I said to him, "Dr. Van Helsing, are you mad?"
He raised his head and looked at me, and somehow the tenderness
of his face calmed me at once. "Would I were!" he said. "Madness
were easy to bear compared with truth like this. Oh, my friend,
whey, think you, did I go so far round, why take so long to tell so
simple a thing? Was it because I hate you and have hated you all my
life? Was it because I wished to give you pain? Was it that I
wanted, no so late, revenge for that time when you saved my life,
and from a fearful death? Ah no!"
"Forgive me," said I.
He went on, "My friend, it was because I wished to be gentle in
the breaking to you, for I know you have loved that so sweet lady.
But even yet I do not expect you to believe. It is so hard to
accept at once any abstract truth, that we may doubt such to be
possible when we have always believed the `no' of it. It is more
hard still to accept so sad a concrete truth, and of such a one as
Miss Lucy. Tonight I go to prove it. Dare you come with me?"
This staggered me. A man does not like to prove such a truth,
Byron excepted from the catagory, jealousy.
"And prove the very truth he most abhorred."
He saw my hesitation, and spoke, "The logic is simple, no
madman's logic this time, jumping from tussock to tussock in a
misty bog. If it not be true, then proof will be relief. At worst
it will not harm. If it be true! Ah, there is the dread. Yet every
dread should help my cause, for in it is some need of belief. Come,
I tell you what I propose. First, that we go off now and see that
child in the hospital. Dr. Vincent, of the North Hospital, where
the papers say the child is, is a friend of mine, and I think of
yours since you were in class at Amsterdam. He will let two
scientists see his case, if he will not let two friends. We shall
tell him nothing, but only that we wish to learn. And then …
"
"And then?"tell him nothing, but only that we wish to learn. And then …
"
"And then?"
He took a key from his pocket and held it up. "And then we spend
the night, you and I, in the churchyard where Lucy lies. This is
the key that lock the tomb. I had it from the coffin man to give to
Arthur."
My heart sank within me, for I felt that there was some fearful
ordeal before us. I could do nothing, however, so I plucked up what
heart I could and said that we had better hasten, as the afternoon
was passing.
We found the child awake. It had had a sleep and taken some
food, and altogether was going on well. Dr, Vincent took the
bandage from its throat, and showed us the punctures. There was no
mistaking the similarity to those which had been on Lucy's throat.
They were smaller, and the edges looked fresher, that was all. We
asked Vincent to what he attributed them, and he replied that it
must have been a bite of some animal, perhaps a rat, but for his
own part, he was inclined to think it was one of the bats which are
so numerous on the northern heights of London. "Out of so many
harmless ones," he said, "there may be some wild specimen from the
South of a more malignant species. Some sailor may have brought one
home, and it managed to escape, or even from the Zoological Gardens
a young one may have got loose, or one be bred there from a
vampire. These things do occur, you, know. Only ten days ago a wolf
got out, and was, I believe, traced up in this direction. For a
week after, the children were playing nothing but Red Riding Hood
on the Heath and in every alley in the place until this `bloofer
lady' scare came along, since then it has been quite a gala time
with them. Even this poor little mite, when he woke up today, asked
the nurse if he might go away. When she asked him why he wanted to
go, he said he wanted to play with the `bloofer lady'."
"I hope," said Van Helsing, "that when you are sending the child
home you will caution its parents to keep strict watch over it.home you will caution its parents to keep strict watch over it.
These fancies to stray are most dangerous, and if the child were to
remain out another night, it would probably be fatal. But in any
case I suppose you will not let it away for some days?"
"Certainly not, not for a week at least, longer if the wound is
not healed."
Our visit to the hospital took more time than we had reckoned
on, and the sun had dipped before we came out. When Van Helsing saw
how dark it was, he said,
"There is not hurry. It is more late than I thought. Come, let
us seek somewhere that we may eat, and then we shall go on our
way."
We dined at `Jack Straw's Castle' along with a little crowd of
bicyclists and others who were genially noisy. About ten o'clock we
started from the inn. It was then very dark, and the scattered
lamps made the darkness greater when we were once outside their
individual radius. The Professor had evidently noted the road we
were to go, for he went on unhesitatingly, but, as for me, I was in
quite a mixup as to locality. As we went further, we met fewer and
fewer people, till at last we were somewhat surprised when we met
even the patrol of horse police going their usual suburban round.
At last we reached the wall of the churchyard, which we climbed
over. With some little difficulty, for it was very dark, and the
whole place seemed so strange to us, we found the Westenra tomb.
The Professor took the key, opened the creaky door, and standing
back, politely, but quite unconsciously, motioned me to precede
him. There was a delicious irony in the offer, in the courtliness
of giving preference on such a ghastly occasion. My companion
followed me quickly, and cautiously drew the door to, after
carefully ascertaining that the lock was a falling, and not a
spring one. In the latter case we should have been in a bad plight.
Then he fumbled in his bag, and taking out a matchbox and a piece
of candle, proceeded to make a light. The tomb in the daytime, and
when wreathed with fresh flowers, had looked grim and gruesome |
when wreathed with fresh flowers, had looked grim and gruesome
enough, but now, some days afterwards, when the flowers hung lank
and dead, their whites turning to rust and their greens to browns,
when the spider and the beetle had resumed their accustomed
dominance, when the time-discolored stone, and dust-encrusted
mortar, and rusty, dank iron, and tarnished brass, and clouded
silver-plating gave back the feeble glimmer of a candle, the effect
was more miserable and sordid than could have been imagined. It
conveyed irresistibly the idea that life, animal life, was not the
only thing which could pass away.
Van Helsing went about his work systematically. Holding his
candle so that he could read the coffin plates, and so holding it
that the sperm dropped in white patches which congealed as they
touched the metal, he made assurance of Lucy's coffin. Another
search in his bag, and he took out a turnscrew.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"To open the coffin. You shall yet be convinced."
Straightway he began taking out the screws, and finally lifted
off the lid, showing the casing of lead beneath. The sight was
almost too much for me. It seemed to be as much an affront to the
dead as it would have been to have stripped off her clothing in her
sleep whilst living. I actually took hold of his hand to stop
him.
He only said, "You shall see,"and again fumbling in his bag took
out a tiny fret saw. Striking the turnscrew through the lead with a
swift downward stab, which made me wince, he made a small hole,
which was, however, big enough to admit the point of the saw. I had
expected a rush of gas from the week-old corpse. We doctors, who
have had to study our dangers, have to become accustomed to such
things, and I drew back towards the door. But the Professor never
stopped for a moment. He sawed down a couple of feet along one side
of the lead coffin, and then across, and down the other side.
Taking the edge of the loose flange, he bent it back towards theTaking the edge of the loose flange, he bent it back towards the
foot of the coffin, and holding up the candle into the aperture,
motioned to me to look.
I drew near and looked. The coffin was empty. It was certainly a
surprise to me, and gave me a considerable shock, but Van Helsing
was unmoved. He was now more sure than ever of his ground, and so
emboldened to proceed in his task."Are you satisfied now, friend
John?" he asked.
I felt all the dogged argumentativeness of my nature awake
within me as I answered him, "I am satisfied that Lucy's body is
not in that coffin, but that only proves one thing."
"And what is that, friend John?"
"That it is not there."
"That is good logic," he said, "so far as it goes. But how do
you, how can you, account for it not being there?"
"Perhaps a body-snatcher," I suggested. "Some of the
undertaker's people may have stolen it." I felt that I was speaking
folly, and yet it was the only real cause which I could
suggest.
The Professor sighed. "Ah well!" he said," we must have more
proof. Come with me."
He put on the coffin lid again, gathered up all his things and
placed them in the bag, blew out the light, and placed the candle
also in the bag. We opened the door, and went out. Behind us he
closed the door and locked it. He handed me the key, saying, "Will
you keep it? You had better be assured."
I laughed, it was not a very cheerful laugh, I am bound to say,
as I motioned him to keep it. "A key is nothing," I said, "thee are
many duplicates, and anyhow it is not difficult to pick a lock of
this kind."
He said nothing, but put the key in his pocket. Then he told me
to watch at one side of the churchyard whilst he would watch at the
other.
I took up my place behind a yew tree, and I saw his dark figure
move until the intervening headstones and trees hid it from my
sight. It was a lonely vigil. Just after I had taken my place I
heard a distant clock strike twelve, and in time came one and two.
I was chilled and unnerved, and angry with the Professor for takingI was chilled and unnerved, and angry with the Professor for taking
me on such an errand and with myself for coming. I was too cold and
too sleepy to be keenly observant, and not sleepy enough to betray
my trust, so altogether I had a dreary, miserable time.
Suddenly, as I turned round, I thought I saw something like a
white streak, moving between two dark yew trees at the side of the
churchyard farthest from the tomb. At the same time a dark mass
moved from the Professor's side of the ground, and hurriedly went
towards it. Then I too moved, but I had to go round headstones and
railed-off tombs, and I stumbled over graves. The sky was overcast,
and somewhere far off an early cock crew. A little ways off, beyond
a line of scattered juniper trees, which marked the pathway to the
church, a white dim figure flitted in the direction of the tomb.
The tomb itself was hidden by trees, and I could not see where the
figure had disappeared. I heard the rustle of actual movement where
I had first seen the white figure, and coming over, found the
Professor holding in his arms a tiny child. When he saw me he held
it out to me, and said, "Are you satisfied now?"
"No," I said, in a way that I felt was aggressive.
"Do you not see the child?"
"Yes, it is a child, but who brought it here? And is it
wounded?"
"We shall see,"said the Professor, and with one impulse we took
our way out of the churchyard, he carrying the sleeping child.
When we had got some little distance away, we went into a clump
of trees, and struck a match, and looked at the child's throat. It
was without a scratch or scar of any kind.
"Was I right?" I asked triumphantly.
"We were just in time," said the Professor thankfully.
We had now to decide what we were to do with the child, and so
consulted about it. If we were to take it to a police station we
should have to give some account of our movements during the night.
At least, we should have had to make some statement as to how we
had come to find the child. So finally we decided that we would |
had come to find the child. So finally we decided that we would
take it to the Heath, and when we heard a policeman coming, would
leave it where he could not fail to find it. We would then seek our
way home as quickly as we could. All fell out well. At the edge of
Hampstead Heath we heard a policeman's heavy tramp, and laying the
child on the pathway, we waited and watched until he saw it as he
flashed his lantern to and fro. We heard his exclamation of
astonishment, and then we went away silently. By good chance we got
a cab near the `Spainiards,' and drove to town.
I cannot sleep, so I make this entry. But I must try to get a
few hours' sleep, as Van Helsing is to call for me at noon. He
insists that I go with him on another expedition.
27 September.—It was two o'clock before we found a suitable
opportunity for our attempt. The funeral held at noon was all
completed, and the last stragglers of the mourners had taken
themselves lazily away, when, looking carefully from behind a clump
of alder trees, we saw the sexton lock the gate after him. We knew
that we were safe till morning did we desire it, but the Professor
told me that we should not want more than an hour at most. Again I
felt that horrid sense of the reality of things, in which any
effort of imagination seemed out of place, and I realized
distinctly the perils of the law which we were incurring in our
unhallowed work. Besides, I felt it was all so useless. Outrageous
as it was to open a leaden coffin, to see if a woman dead nearly a
week were really dead, it now seemed the height of folly to open
the tomb again, when we knew, from the evidence of our own
eyesight, that the coffin was empty. I shrugged my shoulders,
however, and rested silent, for Van Helsing had a way of going on
his own road, no matter who remonstrated. He took the key, opened
the vault, and again courteously motioned me to precede. The place
was not so gruesome as last night, but oh, how unutterably mean
looking when the sunshine streamed in. Van Helsing walked over tolooking when the sunshine streamed in. Van Helsing walked over to
Lucy's coffin, and I followed. He bent over and again forced back
the leaden flange, and a shock of surprise and dismay shot through
me.
There lay Lucy, seemingly just as we had seen her the night
before her funeral. She was, if possible, more radiantly beautiful
than ever, and I could not believe that she was dead. The lips were
red, nay redder than before, and on the cheeks was a delicate
bloom.
"Is this a juggle?" I said to him.
"Are you convinced now?" said the Professor, in response, and as
he spoke he put over his hand, and in a way that made me shudder,
pulled back the dead lips and showed the white teeth. "See," he
went on,"they are even sharper than before. With this and this,"
and he touched one of the canine teeth and that below it, "the
little children can be bitten. Are you of belief now, friend
John?"
Once more argumentative hostility woke within me. I could not
accept such an overwhelming idea as he suggested. So, with an
attempt to argue of which I was even at the moment ashamed, I said,
"She may have been placed here since last night."
"Indeed? That is so, and by whom?"
"I do not know. Someone has done it."
"And yet she has been dead one week. Most peoples in that time
would not look so."
I had no answer for this, so was silent. Van Helsing did not
seem to notice my silence. At any rate, he showed neither chagrin
nor triumph. He was looking intently at the face of the dead woman,
raising the eyelids and looking at the eyes, and once more opening
the lips and examining the teeth. Then he turned to me and
said,
"Here, there is one thing which is different from all recorded.
Here is some dual life that is not as the common. She was bitten by
the vampire when she was in a trance, sleep-walking, oh, you start.
You do not know that, friend John, but you shall know it later, and
in trance could he best come to take more blood. In trance she
dies, and in trance she is Un-Dead, too. So it is that she differdies, and in trance she is Un-Dead, too. So it is that she differ
from all other. Usually when the Un-Dead sleep at home," as he
spoke he made a comprehensive sweep of his arm to designate what to
a vampire was `home', "their face show what they are, but this so
sweet that was when she not Un-Dead she go back to the nothings of
the common dead. There is no malign there, see, and so it make hard
that I must kill her in her sleep."
This turned my blood cold, and it began to dawn upon me that I
was accepting Van Helsing's theories. But if she were really dead,
what was there of terror in the idea of killing her?
He looked up at me, and evidently saw the change in my face, for
he said almost joyously, "Ah, you believe now?"
I answered, "Do not press me too hard all at once. I am willing
to accept. How will you do this bloody work?"
"I shall cut off her head and fill her mouth with garlic, and I
shall drive a stake through her body."
It made me shudder to think of so mutilating the body of the
woman whom I had loved. And yet the feeling was not so strong as I
had expected. I was, in fact, beginning to shudder at the presence
of this being, this Un-Dead, as Van Helsing called it, and to
loathe it. Is it possible that love is all subjective, or all
objective?
I waited a considerable time for Van Helsing to begin, but he
stood as if wrapped in thought. Presently he closed the catch of
his bag with a snap, and said,
"I have been thinking, and have made up my mind as to what is
best. If I did simply follow my inclining I would do now, at this
moment, what is to be done. But there are other things to follow,
and things that are thousand times more difficult in that them we
do not know. This is simple. She have yet no life taken, though
that is of time, and to act now would be to take danger from her
forever. But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell
him of this? If you, who saw the wounds on Lucy's throat, and saw
the wounds so similar on the child's at the hospital, if you, who |
the wounds so similar on the child's at the hospital, if you, who
saw the coffin empty last night and full today with a woman who
have not change only to be more rose and more beautiful in a whole
week, after she die, if you know of this and know of the white
figure last night that brought the child to the churchyard, and yet
of your own senses you did not believe, how then, can I expect
Arthur, who know none of those things, to believe?
"He doubted me when I took him from her kiss when she was dying.
I know he has forgiven me because in some mistaken idea I have done
things that prevent him say goodbye as he ought, and he may think
that in some more mistaken idea this woman was buried alive, and
that in most mistake of all we have killed her. He will then argue
back that it is we, mistaken ones, that have killed her by our
ideas, and so he will be much unhappy always. Yet he never can be
sure, and that is the worst of all. And he will sometimes think
that she he loved was buried alive, and that will paint his dreams
with horrors of what she must have suffered, and again, he will
think that we may be right, and that his so beloved was, after all,
an Un-Dead. No! I told him once, and since then I learn much. Now,
since I know it is all true, a hundred thousand times more do I
know that he must pass through the bitter waters to reach the
sweet. He, poor fellow, must have one hour that will make the very
face of heaven grow black to him, then we can act for good all
round and send him peace. My mind is made up. Let us go. You return
home for tonight to your asylum, and see that all be well. As for
me, I shall spend the night here in this churchyard in my own way.
Tomorrow night you will come to me to the Berkeley Hotel at ten of
the clock. I shall send for Arthur to come too, and also that so
fine young man of America that gave his blood. Later we shall all
have work to do. I come with you so far as Piccadilly and there
dine, for I must be back here before the sun set."dine, for I must be back here before the sun set."
So we locked the tomb and came away, and got over the wall of
the churchyard, which was not much of a task, and drove back to
Piccadilly.
NOTE LEFT BY VAN HELSING IN HIS PORTMANTEAU, BERKELEY HOTEL
DIRECTED TO JOHN SEWARD, M. D. (Not Delivered)
27 September
"Friend John,
"I write this in case anything should happen. I go alone to
watch in that churchyard. It pleases me that the Un-Dead, Miss
Lucy, shall not leave tonight, that so on the morrow night she may
be more eager. Therefore I shall fix some things she like not,
garlic and a crucifix, and so seal up the door of the tomb. She is
young as Un-Dead, and will heed. Moreover, these are only to
prevent her coming out. They may not prevail on her wanting to get
in, for then the Un-Dead is desperate, and must find the line of
least resistance, whatsoever it may be. I shall be at hand all the
night from sunset till after sunrise, and if there be aught that
may be learned I shall learn it. For Miss Lucy or from her, I have
no fear, but that other to whom is there that she is Un-Dead, he
have not the power to seek her tomb and find shelter. He is
cunning, as I know from Mr. Jonathan and from the way that all
along he have fooled us when he played with us for Miss Lucy's
life, and we lost, and in many ways the Un-Dead are strong. He have
always the strength in his hand of twenty men, even we four who
gave our strength to Miss Lucy it also is all to him. Besides, he
can summon his wolf and I know not what. So if it be that he came
thither on this night he shall find me. But none other shall, until
it be too late. But it may be that he will not attempt the place.
There is no reason why he should. His hunting ground is more full
of game than the churchyard where the Un-Dead woman sleeps, and the
one old man watch.
"Therefore I write this in case … Take the papers that are
with this, the diaries of Harker and the rest, and read them, and
then find this great Un-Dead, and cut off his head and burn histhen find this great Un-Dead, and cut off his head and burn his
heart or drive a stake through it, so that the world may rest from
him.
"If it be so, farewell.
"VAN HELSING."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
28 September.—It is wonderful what a good night's sleep will do
for one. Yesterday I was almost willing to accept Van Helsing's
monstrous ideas, but now they seem to start out lurid before me as
outrages on common sense. I have no doubt that he believes it all.
I wonder if his mind can have become in any way unhinged. Surely
there must be some rational explanation of all these mysterious
things. Is it possible that the Professor can have done it himself?
He is so abnormally clever that if he went off his head he would
carry out his intent with regard to some fixed idea in a wonderful
way. I am loathe to think it, and indeed it would be almost as
great a marvel as the other to find that Van Helsing was mad, but
anyhow I shall watch him carefully. I may get some light on the
mystery.
29 September.—Last night, at a little before ten o'clock, Arthur
and Quincey came into Van Helsing's room. He told us all what he
wanted us to do, but especially addressing himself to Arthur, as if
all our wills were centered in his. He began by saying that he
hoped we would all come with him too, "for," he said, "there is a
grave duty to be done there. You were doubtless surprised at my
letter?" This query was directly addressed to Lord Godalming. "I
was. It rather upset me for a bit. There has been so much trouble
around my house of late that I could do without any more. I have
been curious, too, as to what you mean.
"Quincey and I talked it over, but the more we talked, the more
puzzled we got, till now I can say for myself that I'm about up a
tree as to any meaning about anything."
"Me too," said Quincey Morris laconically.
"Oh," said the Professor, "then you are nearer the beginning,
both of you, than friend John here, who has to go a long way back
before he can even get so far as to begin." |
before he can even get so far as to begin."
It was evident that he recognized my return to my old doubting
frame of mind without my saying a word. Then, turning to the other
two, he said with intense gravity,
"I want your permission to do what I think good this night. It
is, I know, much to ask, and when you know what it is I propose to
do you will know, and only then how much. Therefore may I ask that
you promise me in the dark, so that afterwards, though you may be
angry with me for a time, I must not disguise from myself the
possibility that such may be, you shall not blame yourselves for
anything."
"That's frank anyhow," broke in Quincey. "I'll answer for the
Professor. I don't quite see his drift, but I swear he's honest,
and that's good enough for me."
"I thank you, Sir," said Van Helsing proudly. "I have done
myself the honor of counting you one trusting friend, and such
endorsement is dear to me." He held out a hand, which Quincey
took.
Then Arthur spoke out, "Dr. Van Helsing, I don't quite like to
`buy a pig in a poke', as they say in Scotland, and if it be
anything in which my honour as a gentleman or my faith as a
Christian is concerned, I cannot make such a promise. If you can
assure me that what you intend does not violate either of these
two, then I give my consent at once, though for the life of me, I
cannot understand what you are driving at."
"I accept your limitation," said Van Helsing, "and all I ask of
you is that if you feel it necessary to condemn any act of mine,
you will first consider it well and be satisfied that it does not
violate your reservations."
"Agreed!" said Arthur. "That is only fair. And now that the
pourparlers are over, may I ask what it is we are to do?"
"I want you to come with me, and to come in secret, to the
churchyard at Kingstead."
Arthur's face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way,
"Where poor Lucy is buried?"
The Professor bowed.
Arthur went on, "And when there?"
"To enter the tomb!"
Arthur stood up. "Professor, are you in earnest, or is it some"To enter the tomb!"
Arthur stood up. "Professor, are you in earnest, or is it some
monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest." He sat
down again, but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one
who is on his dignity. There was silence until he asked again, "And
when in the tomb?"
"To open the coffin."
"This is too much!" he said, angrily rising again. "I am willing
to be patient in all things that are reasonable, but in this, this
desecration of the grave, of one who … " He fairly choked with
indignation.
The Professor looked pityingly at him."If I could spare you one
pang, my poor friend," he said, "God knows I would. But this night
our feet must tread in thorny paths, or later, and for ever, the
feet you love must walk in paths of flame!"
Arthur looked up with set white face and said, "Take care, sir,
take care!"
"Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?" said Van
Helsing. "And then you will at least know the limit of my purpose.
Shall I go on?"
"That's fair enough," broke in Morris.
After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an effort,
"Miss Lucy is dead, is it not so? Yes! Then there can be no wrong
to her. But if she be not dead… "
Arthur jumped to his feet, "Good God!" he cried. "What do you
mean? Has there been any mistake, has she been buried alive?"He
groaned in anguish that not even hope could soften.
"I did not say she was alive, my child. I did not think it. I go
no further than to say that she might be Un-Dead."
"Un-Dead! Not alive! What do you mean? Is this all a nightmare,
or what is it?"
"There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by
age they may solve only in part. Believe me, we are now on the
verge of one. But I have not done. May I cut off the head of dead
Miss Lucy?"
"Heavens and earth, no!" cried Arthur in a storm of passion.
"Not for the wide world will I consent to any mutilation of her
dead body. Dr. Van Helsing, you try me too far. What have I done to
you that you should torture me so? What did that poor, sweet girlyou that you should torture me so? What did that poor, sweet girl
do that you should want to cast such dishonor on her grave? Are you
mad, that you speak of such things, or am I mad to listen to them?
Don't dare think more of such a desecration. I shall not give my
consent to anything you do. I have a duty to do in protecting her
grave from outrage, and by God, I shall do it!"
Van Helsing rose up from where he had all the time been seated,
and said, gravely and sternly, "My Lord Godalming, I too, have a
duty to do, a duty to others, a duty to you, a duty to the dead,
and by God, I shall do it! All I ask you now is that you come with
me, that you look and listen, and if when later I make the same
request you do not be more eager for its fulfillment even than I
am, then, I shall do my duty, whatever it may seem to me. And then,
to follow your Lordship's wishes I shall hold myself at your
disposal to render an account to you, when and where you will." His
voice broke a little, and he went on with a voice full of pity.
"But I beseech you, do not go forth in anger with me. In a long
life of acts which were often not pleasant to do, and which
sometimes did wring my heart, I have never had so heavy a task as
now. Believe me that if the time comes for you to change your mind
towards me, one look from you will wipe away all this so sad hour,
for I would do what a man can to save you from sorrow. Just think.
For why should I give myself so much labor and so much of sorrow? I
have come here from my own land to do what I can of good, at the
first to please my friend John, and then to help a sweet young
lady, whom too, I come to love. For her, I am ashamed to say so
much, but I say it in kindness, I gave what you gave, the blood of
my veins. I gave it, I who was not, like you, her lover, but only
her physician and her friend. I gave her my nights and days, before
death, after death, and if my death can do her good even now, when
she is the dead Un-Dead, she shall have it freely." He said thisshe is the dead Un-Dead, she shall have it freely." He said this
with a very grave, sweet pride, and Arthur was much affected by
it.
He took the old man's hand and said in a broken voice, "Oh, it
is hard to think of it, and I cannot understand, but at least I
shall go with you and wait." |
It was just a quarter before twelve o'clock when we got into the
churchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional
gleams of moonlight between the dents of the heavy clouds that
scudded across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with
Van Helsing slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come
close to the tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared the
proximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset
him, but he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of
the proceeding was in some way a counteractant to his grief. The
Professor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation
amongst us for various reasons, solved the difficulty by entering
first himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He
then lit a dark lantern and pointed to a coffin. Arthur stepped
forward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, "You were with me
here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?"
"It was."
The Professor turned to the rest saying, "You hear, and yet
there is no one who does not believe with me.'
He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the
coffin. Arthur looked on, very pale but silent. When the lid was
removed he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there
was a leaden coffin, or at any rate, had not thought of it. When he
saw the rent in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an
instant, but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a
ghastly whiteness. He was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the
leaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.
The coffin was empty!
For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken
by Quincey Morris, "Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all
I want. I wouldn't ask such a thing ordinarily, I wouldn't so
dishonor you as to imply a doubt, but this is a mystery that goes
beyond any honor or dishonor. Is this your doing?"
"I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not
removed or touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago myremoved or touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago my
friend Seward and I came here, with good purpose, believe me. I
opened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it as
now, empty. We then waited, and saw something white come through
the trees. The next day we came here in daytime and she lay there.
Did she not, friend John?
"Yes."
"That night we were just in time. One more so small child was
missing, and we find it, thank God,unharmed amongst the graves.
Yesterday I came here before sundown, for at sundown the Un-Dead
can move. I waited here all night till the sun rose, but I saw
nothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over
the clamps of those doors garlic, which the Un-Dead cannot bear,
and other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus,
so tonight before the sundown I took away my garlic and other
things. And so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me.
So far there is much that is strange. Wait you with me outside,
unseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be. So,"
here he shut the dark slide of his lantern,"now to the outside." He
opened the door, and we filed out, he coming last and locking the
door behind him.
Oh! But it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the
terror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by,
and the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds
crossing and passing, like the gladness and sorrow of a man's life.
How sweet it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of
death and decay. How humanizing to see the red lighting of the sky
beyond the hill, and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks
the life of a great city. Each in his own way was solemn and
overcome. Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving to
grasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was
myself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside
doubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusions. Quincey Morris wasdoubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusions. Quincey Morris was
phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts
them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has at
stake. Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of
tobacco and began to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a
definite way. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like
thin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white
napkin. Next he took out a double handful of some whitish stuff,
like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it
into the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it
into thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the
door and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this,
and being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur
and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious.
He answered, "I am closing the tomb so that the Un-Dead may not
enter."
"And is that stuff you have there going to do it?"
"It Is."
"What is that which you are using?" This time the question was
by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he
answered.
"The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an
Indulgence."
It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we
felt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as
the Professor's, a purpose which could thus use the to him most
sacred of things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful
silence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but
hidden from the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others,
especially Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by my former
visits to this watching horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour
ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did
tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper
so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass
wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, |
wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously,
and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful
presage through the night.
There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then
from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed, and far down the
avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure,
which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at
the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving
clouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman,
dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face,
for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child.
There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in
sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were
starting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as
he stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the
white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to
see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold
as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the
features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The
sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the
purity to voluptuous wantonness.
Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all
advanced too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of
the tomb. Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide. By the
concentrated light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the
lips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had
trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death
robe.
We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light
that even Van Helsing's iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to
me, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have
fallen.
When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it
bore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as abore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a
cat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's
eyes in form and color, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell
fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the
remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to
be killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked,
her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed
with a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it!
With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a
devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her
breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child
gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a
cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur. When
she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he
fell back and hid his face in his hands.
She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous
grace, said, "Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to
me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together.
Come, my husband, come!"
There was something diabolically sweet in her tones, something
of the tinkling of glass when struck, which rang through the brains
even of us who heard the words addressed to another.
As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell, moving his hands from
his face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when
Van Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden
crucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted
face, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.
When within a foot or two of the door, however,she stopped, as
if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her
face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp,
which had now no quiver from Van Helsing's nerves. Never did I see
such baffled malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such eversuch baffled malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever
be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful color became livid, the
eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell fire, the brows were
wrinkled as though the folds of flesh were the coils of Medusa's
snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square,
as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face
meant death, if looks could kill, we saw it at that moment.
And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, se
remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her
means of entry.
Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, "Answer me, oh
my friend! Am I to proceed in my work?"
"Do as you will, friend. Do as you will. There can be no horror
like this ever any more." And he groaned in spirit.
Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his
arms. We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing
held it down. Coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the
chinks some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there. We all
looked on with horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back,
the woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own,
pass through the interstice where scarce a knife blade could have
gone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor
calmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door.
When this was done, he lifted the child and said, "Come now, my
friends. We can do no more till tomorrow. There is a funeral at
noon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends
of the dead will all be gone by two, and when the sexton locks the
gate we shall remain. Then there is more to do, but not like this
of tonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, and by
tomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the
police will find him, as on the other night, and then to home."
Coming close to Arthur, he said, "My friend Arthur, you have had |
Coming close to Arthur, he said, "My friend Arthur, you have had
a sore trial, but after, when you look back, you will see how it
was necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this
time tomorrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have
drunk of the sweet waters. So do not mourn over-much. Till then I
shall not ask you to forgive me."
Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each
other on the way. We had left behind the child in safety, and were
tired. So we all slept with more or less reality of sleep.
29 September, night.—A little before twelve o'clock we three,
Arthur, Quincey Morris, and myself, called for the Professor. It
was odd to notice that by common consent we had all put on black
clothes. Of course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning,
but the rest of us wore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by
half-past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official
observation, so that when the gravediggers had completed their task
and the sexton under the belief that every one had gone, had locked
the gate, we had the place all to ourselves. Van Helsing, instead
of his little black bag, had with him a long leather one,something
like a cricketing bag. It was manifestly of fair weight.
When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die
out up the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention,
followed the Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we
entered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the
lantern, which he lit, and also two wax candles, which, when
lighted, he stuck by melting their own ends, on other coffins, so
that they might give light sufficient to work by. When he again
lifted the lid off Lucy's coffin we all looked, Arthur trembling
like an aspen, and saw that the corpse lay there in all its death
beauty. But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but loathing
for the foul Thing which had taken Lucy's shape without her soul. I
could see even Arthur's face grow hard as he looked. Presently hecould see even Arthur's face grow hard as he looked. Presently he
said to Van Helsing, "Is this really Lucy's body, or only a demon
in her shape?"
"It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you shall
see her as she was, and is."
She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there, the
pointed teeth, the blood stained, voluptuous mouth, which made one
shudder to see, the whole carnal and unspirited appearance, seeming
like a devilish mockery of Lucy's sweet purity. Van Helsing, with
his usual methodicalness, began taking the various contents from
his bag and placing them ready for use. First he took out a
soldering iron and some plumbing solder, and then small oil lamp,
which gave out, when lit in a corner of the tomb, gas which burned
at a fierce heat with a blue flame, then his operating knives,
which he placed to hand, and last a round wooden stake, some two
and a half or three inches thick and about three feet long. One end
of it was hardened by charring in the fire, and was sharpened to a
fine point. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such as in
households is used in the coal cellar for breaking the lumps. To
me, a doctor's preperations for work of any kind are stimulating
and bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and
Quincey was to cause them a sort of consternation. They both,
however, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet.
When all was ready, Van Helsing said,"Before we do anything, let
me tell you this. It is out of the lore and experience of the
ancients and of all those who have studied the powers of the
Un-Dead. When they become such, there comes with the change the
curse of immortality. They cannot die, but must go on age after age
adding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world. For all
that die from the preying of the Un-dead become themselves Un-dead,
and prey on their kind. And so the circle goes on ever widening,
like as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend
Arthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor LucyArthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy
die, or again, last night when you open your arms to her, you would
in time, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as they call it
in Eastern europe, and would for all time make more of those
Un-Deads that so have filled us with horror. The career of this so
unhappy dear lady is but just begun. Those children whose blood she
sucked are not as yet so much the worse, but if she lives on,
Un-Dead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power over
them they come to her, and so she draw their blood with that so
wicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease. The tiny
wounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play
unknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all,
when this now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul
of the poor lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of
working wickedness by night and growing more debased in the
assimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with the other
Angels. So that, my friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that
shall strike the blow that sets her free. To this I am willing, but
is there none amongst us who has a better right? Will it be no joy
to think of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is
not, `It was my hand that sent her to the stars. It was the hand of
him that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself
have chosen, had it been to her to choose?' Tell me if there be
such a one amongst us?"
We all looked at Arthur. He saw too, what we all did, the
infinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which
would restore Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory. He
stepped forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his
face was as pale as snow, "My true friend, from the bottom of my
broken heart I thank you. Tell me what I am to do, and I shall not
falter!"
Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said,"Brave lad! A |
falter!"
Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said,"Brave lad! A
moment's courage, and it is done. This stake must be driven through
her. It well be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it
will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your
pain was great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you
tread on air. But you must not falter when once you have begun.
Only think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we
pray for you all the time."
"Go on,"said Arthur hoarsely."Tell me what I am to do."
"Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place to the point
over the heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin
our prayer for the dead, I shall read him, I have here the book,
and the others shall follow, strike in God's name, that so all may
be well with the dead that we love and that the Un-Dead pass away."
Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was
set on action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Van
Helsing opened his missal and began to read, and Quincey and I
followed as well as we could.
Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could
see its dint in the white flesh. Then he struck with all his
might.
The thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous, bloodcurdling
screech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered
and twisted in wild contortions. The sharp white champed together
till the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson
foam. But Arthur never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as
his untrembling arm rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the
mercybearing stake, whilst the blood from the pierced heart welled
and spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to
shine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so that our
voices seemed to ring through the little vault.
And then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and
the teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay
still. The terrible task was over.still. The terrible task was over.
The hammer fell from Arthur's hand. He reeled and would have
fallen had we not caught him. The great drops of sweat sprang from
his forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed
been an awful strain on him, and had he not been forced to his task
by more than human considerations he could never have gone through
with it. For a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did
not look towards the coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of
startled surprise ran from one to the other of us. We gazed so
eagerly that Arthur rose, for he had been seated on the ground, and
came and looked too, and then a glad strange light broke over his
face and dispelled altogether the gloom of horror that lay upon
it.
There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we has so
dreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was
yielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as
we had seen her in life, with her face of unequalled sweetness and
purity. True that there were there, as we had seen them in life,
the traces of care and pain and waste. But these were all dear to
us, for they marked her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt
that the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and
form was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to
reign for ever.
Van Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and
said to him, "And now, Arthur my friend, dear lad, am I not
forgiven?"
The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old
man's hand in his, and raising it to his lips, pressed it, and
said, "Forgiven! God bless you that you have given my dear one her
soul again, and me peace." He put his hands on the Professor's
shoulder, and laying his head on his breast, cried for a while
silently, whilst we stood unmoving.
When he raised his head Van Helsing said to him, "And now, my
child, you may kiss her. Kiss her dead lips if you will, as she
would have you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinningwould have you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinning
devil now, not any more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer
she is the devil's Un-Dead. She is God's true dead, whose soul is
with Him!"
Arthur bent and kissed her, and then we sent him and Quincey out
of the tomb. The Professor and I sawed the top off the stake,
leaving the point of it in the body. Then we cut off the head and
filled the mouth with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin,
screwed on the coffin lid, and gathering up our belongings, came
away. When the Professor locked the door he gave the key to
Arthur.
Outside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the birds sang,
and it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch.
There was gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at
rest ourselves on one account, and we were glad, though it was with
a tempered joy.
Before we moved away Van Helsing said,"Now, my friends, one step
or our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves. But there
remains a greater task, to find out the author of all this or
sorrow and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow, but
it is a long task, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it,
and pain. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to believe,
all of us, is it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes!
And do we not promise to go on to the bitter end?"
Each in turn, we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then
said the Professor as we moved off, "Two nights hence you shall
meet with me and dine together at seven of the clock with friend
John. I shall entreat two others, two that you know not as yet, and
I shall be ready to all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend
John, you come with me home, for I have much to consult you about,
and you can help me. Tonight I leave for Amsterdam, but shall
return tomorrow night. And then begins our great quest. But first I
shall have much to say, so that you may know what to do and to
dread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew. For theredread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew. For there
is a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on the
ploughshare we must not draw back." |
When we arrived at the Berkely Hotel, Van Helsing found a
telegram waiting for him.
"Am coming up by train. Jonathan at Whitby. Important news. Mina
Harker."
The Professor was delighted. "Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina," he
said, "pearl among women! She arrive, but I cannot stay. She must
go to your house, friend John. You must meet her at the station.
Telegraph her en route so that she may be prepared."
When the wire was dispatched he had a cup of tea. Over it he
told me of a diary kept by Jonathan Harker when abroad, and gave me
a typewritten copy of it, as also of Mrs. Harker's diary at Whitby.
"Take these," he said,"and study them well. When I have returned
you will be master of all the facts, and we can then better enter
on our inquisition. Keep them safe, for there is in them much of
treasure. You will need all your faith, even you who have had such
an experience as that of today. What is here told," he laid his
hand heavily and gravely on the packet of papers as he spoke, "may
be the beginning of the end to you and me and many another, or it
may sound the knell of the Un-Dead who walk the earth. Read all, I
pray you, with the open mind, and if you can add in any way to the
story here told do so, for it is all important. You have kept a
diary of all these so strange things, is it not so? Yes! Then we
shall go through all these together when we meet." He then made
ready for his departure and shortly drove off to Liverpool Street.
I took my way to Paddington, where I arrived about fifteen minutes
before the train came in.
The crowd melted away, after the bustling fashion common to
arrival platforms, and I was beginning to feel uneasy, lest I might
miss my guest, when a sweet-faced, dainty looking girl stepped up
to me, and after a quick glance said, "Dr. Seward, is it not?"
"And you are Mrs. Harker!" I answered at once, whereupon she
held out her hand.
"I knew you from the description of poor dear Lucy, but… " She
stopped suddenly, and a quick blush overspread her face.stopped suddenly, and a quick blush overspread her face.
The blush that rose to my own cheeks somehow set us both at
ease, for it was a tacit answer to her own. I got her luggage,
which included a typewriter, and we took the Underground to
Fenchurch Street, after I had sent a wire to my housekeeper to have
a sitting room and a bedroom prepared at once for Mrs. Harker.
In due time we arrived. She knew, of course, that the place was
a lunatic asylum, but I could see that she was unable to repress a
shudder when we entered.
She told me that, if she might, she would come presently to my
study, as she had much to say. So here I am finishing my entry in
my phonograph diary whilst I await her. As yet I have not had the
chance of looking at the papers which Van Helsing left with me,
though they lie open before me. I must get her interested in
something, so that I may have an opportunity of reading them. She
does not know how precious time is, or what a task we have in hand.
I must be careful not to frighten her. Here she is!
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
29 September.—After I had tidied myself, I went down to Dr.
Seward's study. At the door I paused a moment, for I thought I
heard him talking with some one. As, however, he had pressed me to
be quick, I knocked at the door, and on his calling out, "Come in,"
I entered.
To my intense surprise, there was no one with him. He was quite
alone, and on the table opposite him was what I knew at once from
the description to be a phonograph. I had never seen one, and was
much interested.
"I hope I did not keep you waiting," I said, "but I stayed at
the door as I heard you talking, and thought there was someone with
you."
"Oh," he replied with a smile, "I was only entering my
diary."
"Your diary?" I asked him in surprise.
"Yes," he answered. "I keep it in this." As he spoke he laid his
hand on the phonograph. I felt quite excited over it, and blurted
out, "Why, this beats even shorthand! May I hear it say
something?"
"Certainly," he replied with alacrity, and stood up to put it insomething?"
"Certainly," he replied with alacrity, and stood up to put it in
train for speaking. Then he paused, and a troubled look overspread
his face.
"The fact is," he began awkwardly."I only keep my diary in it,
and as it is entirely, almost entirely, about my cases it may be
awkward, that is, I mean … " He stopped, and I tried to help
him out of his embarrassment.
"You helped to attend dear Lucy at the end. Let me hear how she
died, for all that I know of her, I shall be very grateful. She was
very, very dear to me."
To my surprise, he answered, with a horrorstruck look in his
face, "Tell you of her death? Not for the wide world!"
"Why not?" I asked, for some grave, terrible feeling was coming
over me.
Again he paused, and I could see that he was trying to invent an
excuse. At length, he stammered out, "You see, I do not know how to
pick out any particular part of the diary."
Even while he was speaking an idea dawned upon him, and he said
with unconscious simplicity, in a different voice, and with the
naivete of a child, "that's quite true, upon my honor. Honest
Indian!"
I could not but smile, at which he grimaced."I gave myself away
that time!" he said. "But do you know that, although I have kept
the diary for months past, it never once struck me how I was going
to find any particular part of it in case I wanted to look it
up?"
By this time my mind was made up that the diary of a doctor who
attended Lucy might have something to add to the sum of our
knowledge of that terrible Being, and I said boldly, "Then, Dr.
Seward, you had better let me copy it out for you on my
typewriter."
He grew to a positively deathly pallor as he said, "No! No! No!
For all the world. I wouldn't let you know that terrible
story.!"
Then it was terrible. My intuition was right! For a moment, I
thought, and as my eyes ranged the room, unconsciously looking for
something or some opportunity to aid me, they lit on a great batch
of typewriting on the table. His eyes caught the look in mine, and |
of typewriting on the table. His eyes caught the look in mine, and
without his thinking, followed their direction. As they saw the
parcel he realized my meaning.
"You do not know me," I said. "When you have read those papers,
my own diary and my husband's also, which I have typed, you will
know me better. I have not faltered in giving every thought of my
own heart in this cause. But, of course, you do not know me, yet,
and I must not expect you to trust me so far."
He is certainly a man of noble nature. Poor dear Lucy was right
about him. He stood up and opened a large drawer, in which were
arranged in order a number of hollow cylinders of metal covered
with dark wax, and said,
"You are quite right. I did not trust you because I did not know
you. But I know you now, and let me say that I should have known
you long ago. I know that Lucy told you of me. She told me of you
too. May I make the only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders
and hear them. The first half-dozen of them are personal to me, and
they will not horrify you. Then you will know me better. Dinner
will by then be ready. In the meantime I shall read over some of
these documents, and shall be better able to understand certain
things."
He carried the phonograph himself up to my sitting room and
adjusted it for me. Now I shall learn something pleasant, I am
sure. For it will tell me the other side of a true love episode of
which I know one side already.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
29 September.—I was so absorbed in that wonderful diary of
Jonathan Harker and that other of his wife that I let the time run
on without thinking. Mrs. Harker was not down when the maid came to
announce dinner, so I said, "She is possibly tired. Let dinner wait
an hour," and I went on with my work. I had just finished Mrs.
Harker's diary, when she came in. She looked sweetly pretty, but
very sad, and her eyes were flushed with crying. This somehow moved
me much. Of late I have had cause for tears, God knows! But the
relief of them was denied me, and now the sight of those sweetrelief of them was denied me, and now the sight of those sweet
eyes, brightened by recent tears, went straight to my heart. So I
said as gently as I could, "I greatly fear I have distressed
you."
"Oh, no, not distressed me," she replied. "But I have been more
touched than I can say by your grief. That is a wonderful machine,
but it is cruelly true. It told me, in its very tones, the anguish
of your heart. It was like a soul crying out to Almighty God. No
one must hear them spoken ever again! See, I have tried to be
useful. I have copied out the words on my typewriter, and none
other need now hear your heart beat, as I did."
"No one need ever know, shall ever know," I said in a low voice.
She laid her hand on mine and said very gravely, "Ah, but they
must!"
"Must! but why?" I asked.
"Because it is a part of the terrible story, a part of poor
Lucy's death and all that led to it. Because in the struggle which
we have before us to rid the earth of this terrible monster we must
have all the knowledge and all the help which we can get. I think
that the cylinders which you gave me contained more than you
intended me to know. But I can see that there are in your record
many lights to this dark mystery. You will let me help, will you
not? I know all up to a certain point, and I see already, though
your diary only took me to 7 September, how poor Lucy was beset,
and how her terrible doom was being wrought out. Jonathan and I
have been working day and night since Professor Van Helsing saw us.
He is gone to Whitby to get more information, and he will be here
tomorrow to help us. We need have no secrets amongst us. Working
together and with absolute trust, we can surely be stronger than if
some of us were in the dark."
She looked at me so appealingly, and at the same time manifested
such courage and resolution in her bearing, that I gave in at once
to her wishes. "You shall," I said, "do as you like in the matter.
God forgive me if I do wrong! There are terrible things yet toGod forgive me if I do wrong! There are terrible things yet to
learn of. But if you have so far traveled on the road to poor
Lucy's death, you will not be content, I know, to remain in the
dark. Nay, the end, the very end, may give you a gleam of peace.
Come, there is dinner. We must keep one another strong for what is
before us. We have a cruel and dreadful task. When you have eaten
you shall learn the rest, and I shall answer any questions you ask,
if there be anything which you do not understand, though it was
apparent to us who were present."
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
29 September.—After dinner I came with Dr. Seward to his study.
He brought back the phonograph from my room, and I took a chair,
and arranged the phonograph so that I could touch it without
getting up, and showed me how to stop it in case I should want to
pause. Then he very thoughtfully took a chair, with his back to me,
so that I might be as free as possible, and began to read. I put
the forked metal to my ears and listened.
When the terrible story of Lucy's death, and all that followed,
was done, I lay back in my chair powerless. Fortunately I am not of
a fainting disposition. When Dr. Seward saw me he jumped up with a
horrified exclamation, and hurriedly taking a case bottle from the
cupboard, gave me some brandy, which in a few minutes somewhat
restored me. My brain was all in a whirl, and only that there came
through all the multitude of horrors, the holy ray of light that my
dear Lucy was at last at peace, I do not think I could have borne
it without making a scene. It is all so wild and mysterious, and
strange that if I had not known Jonathan's experience in
Transylvania I could not have believed. As it was, I didn't know
what to believe, and so got out of my difficulty by attending to
something else. I took the cover off my typewriter, and said to Dr.
Seward,
"Let me write this all out now. We must be ready for Dr. Van
Helsing when he comes. I have sent a telegram to Jonathan to come |
Helsing when he comes. I have sent a telegram to Jonathan to come
on here when he arrives in London from Whitby. In this matter dates
are everything, and I think that if we get all of our material
ready, and have every item put in chronological order, we shall
have done much.
"You tell me that Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris are coming too.
Let us be able to tell them when they come."
He accordingly set the phonograph at a slow pace, and I began to
typewrite from the beginning of the seventeenth cylinder. I used
manifold, and so took three copies of the diary, just as I had done
with the rest. It was late when I got through, but Dr. Seward went
about his work of going his round of the patients. When he had
finished he came back and sat near me, reading, so that I did not
feel too lonely whilst I worked. How good and thoughtful he is. The
world seems full of good men, even if there are monsters in it.
Before I left him I remembered what Jonathan put in his diary of
the Professor's perturbation at reading something in an evening
paper at the station at Exeter, so, seeing that Dr. Seward keeps
his newspapers, I borrowed the files of `The Westminster Gazette'
and `The Pall Mall Gazette' and took them to my room. I remember
how much the `Dailygraph' and `The Whitby Gazette', of which I had
made cuttings, had helped us to understand the terrible events at
Whitby when Count Dracula landed, so I shall look through the
evening papers since then, and perhaps I shall get some new light.
I am not sleepy, and the work will help to keep me quiet.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
30 September.—Mr. Harker arrived at nine o'clock. He got his
wife's wire just before starting. He is uncommonly clever, if one
can judge from his face, and full of energy. If this journal be
true, and judging by one's own wonderful experiences, it must be,
he is also a man of great nerve. That going down to the vault a
second time was a remarkable piece of daring. After reading his
account of it I was prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood,account of it I was prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood,
but hardly the quiet, business-like gentleman who came here
today.
LATER.—After lunch Harker and his wife went back to their own
room, and as I passed a while ago I heard the click of the
typewriter. They are hard at it. Mrs. Harker says that knitting
together in chronological order every scrap of evidence they have.
Harker has got the letters between the consignee of the boxes at
Whitby and the carriers in London who took charge of them. He is
now reading his wife's transcript of my diary. I wonder what they
make out of it. Here it is …
Strange that it never struck me that the very next house might
be the Count's hiding place! Goodness knows that we had enough
clues from the conduct of the patient Renfield! The bundle of
letters relating to the purchase of the house were with the
transcript. Oh, if we had only had them earlier we might have saved
poor Lucy! Stop! That way madness lies! Harker has gone back, and
is again collecting material. He says that by dinner time they will
be able to show a whole connected narrative. He thinks that in the
meantime I should see Renfield, as hitherto he has been a sort of
index to the coming and going of the Count. I hardly see this yet,
but when I get at the dates I suppose I shall. What a good thing
that Mrs. Harker put my cylinders into type! We never could have
found the dates otherwise.
I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room with his hands
folded, smiling benignly. At the moment he seemed as sane as any
one I ever saw. I sat down and talked with him on a lot of
subjects, all of which he treated naturally. He then, of his own
accord, spoke of going home, a subject he has never mentioned to my
knowledge during his sojourn here. In fact, he spoke quite
confidently of getting his discharge at once. I believe that, had I
not had the chat with Harker and read the letters and the dates of
his outbursts, I should have been prepared to sign for him after ahis outbursts, I should have been prepared to sign for him after a
brief time of observation. As it is, I am darkly suspicious. All
those outbreaks were in some way linked with the proximity of the
Count. What then does this absolute content mean? Can it be that
his instinct is satisfied as to the vampire's ultimate triumph?
Stay. He is himself zoophagous, and in his wild ravings outside the
chapel door of the deserted house he always spoke of `master'. This
all seems confirmation of our idea. However, after a while I came
away. My friend is just a little too sane at present to make it
safe to probe him too deep with questions. He might begin to think,
and then … So I came away. I mistrust these quiet moods of of
his, so I have given the attendant a hint to look closely after
him, and to have a strait waistcoat ready in case of need.
JOHNATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
29 September, in train to London.—When I received Mr.
Billington's courteous message that he would give me any
information in his power I thought it best to go down to Whitby and
make, on the spot, such inquiries as I wanted. It was now my object
to trace that horrid cargo of the Count's to its place in London.
Later, we may be able to deal with it. Billington junior, a nice
lad, met me at the station, and brought me to his father's house,
where they had decided that I must spend the night. They are
hospitable, with true Yorkshire hospitality, give a guest
everything and leave him to do as he likes. They all knew that I
was busy, and that my stay was short, and Mr. Billington had ready
in his office all the papers concerning the consignment of boxes.
It gave me almost a turn to see again one of the letters which I
had seen on the Count's table before I knew of his diabolical
plans. Everything had been carefully thought out, and done
systematically and with precision. He seemed to have been prepared
for every obstacle which might be placed by accident in the way of
his intentions being carried out. To use an Americanism, he had |
his intentions being carried out. To use an Americanism, he had
`taken no chances', and the absolute accuracy with which his
instructions were fulfilled was simply the logical result of his
care. I saw the invoice, and took note of it.`Fifty cases of common
earth, to be used for experimental purposes'. Also the copy of the
letter to Carter Paterson, and their reply. Of both these I got
copies. This was all the information Mr. Billington could give me,
so I went down to the port and saw the coastguards, the Customs
Officers and the harbor master, who kindly put me in communication
with the men who had actually received the boxes. Their tally was
exact with the list, and they had nothing to add to the simple
description `fifty cases of common earth', except that the boxes
were `main and mortal heavy', and that shifting them was dry work.
One of them added that it was hard lines that there wasn't any
gentleman `such like as like yourself, squire', to show some sort
of appreciation of their efforts in a liquid form. Another put in a
rider that the thirst then generated was such that even the time
which had elapsed had not completely allayed it. Needless to add, I
took care before leaving to lift, forever and adequately, this
source of reproach.
30 September.—The station master was good enough to give me a
line to his old companion the station master at King's Cross, so
that when I arrived there in the morning I was able to ask him
about the arrival of the boxes. He, too put me at once in
communication with the proper officials, and I saw that their tally
was correct with the original invoice. The opportunities of
acquiring an abnormal thirst had been here limited. A noble use of
them had, however, been made, and again I was compelled to deal
with the result in ex post facto manner.
From thence I went to Carter Paterson's central office, where I
met with the utmost courtesy. They looked up the transaction in
their day book and letter book, and at once telephoned to theirtheir day book and letter book, and at once telephoned to their
King's Cross office for more details. By good fortune, the men who
did the teaming were waiting for work, and the official at once
sent them over, sending also by one of them the way-bill and all
the papers connected with the delivery of the boxes at Carfax. Here
again I found the tally agreeing exactly. The carriers' men were
able to supplement the paucity of the written words with a few more
details. These were, I shortly found, connected almost solely with
the dusty nature of the job, and the consequent thirst engendered
in the operators. On my affording an opportunity, through the
medium of the currency of the realm, of the allaying, at a later
period, this beneficial evil, one of the men remarked,
"That `ere `ouse, guv'nor, is the rummiest I ever was in. Blyme!
But it ain't been touched sence a hundred years. There was dust
that thick in the place that you might have slep' on it without
`urtin' of yer bones. An' the place was that neglected that yer
might `ave smelled ole Jerusalem in it. But the old chapel, that
took the cike, that did!Me and my mate, we thort we wouldn't never
git out quick enough. Lor', I wouldn't take less nor a quid a
moment to stay there arter dark."
Having been in the house, I could well believe him, but if he
knew what I know, he would, I think have raised his terms.
Of one thing I am now satisfied. That all those boxes which
arrived at Whitby from Varna in the Demeter were safely deposited
in the old chapel at Carfax. There should be fifty of them there,
unless any have since been removed, as from Dr. Seward's diary I
fear.
Later.—Mina and I have worked all day, and we have put all the
papers into order.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 September.—I am so glad that I hardly know how to contain
myself. It is, I suppose, the reaction from the haunting fear which
I have had, that this terrible affair and the reopening of his old
wound might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave forwound might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for
Whitby with as brave a face as could, but I was sick with
apprehension. The effort has, however, done him good. He was never
so resolute, never so strong, never so full of volcanic energy, as
at present. It is just as that dear, good Professor Van Helsing
said, he is true grit, and he improves under strain that would kill
a weaker nature. He came back full of life and hope and
determination. We have got everything in order for tonight. I feel
myself quite wild with excitement. I suppose one ought to pity
anything so hunted as the Count. That is just it. This thing is not
human, not even a beast. To read Dr. Seward's account of poor
Lucy's death, and what followed, is enough to dry up the springs of
pity in one's heart.
Later.—Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arrived earlier than we
expected. Dr. Seward was out on business, and had taken Jonathan
with him, so I had to see them. It was to me a painful meeting, for
it brought back all poor dear Lucy's hopes of only a few months
ago. Of course they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that
Dr. Van Helsing, too, had been quite `blowing my trumpet', as Mr.
Morris expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of them is aware that I
know all about the proposals they made to Lucy. They did not quite
know what to say or do, as they were ignorant of the amount of my
knowledge. So they had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I
thought the matter over, and came to the conclusion that the best
thing I could do would be to post them on affairs right up to date.
I knew from Dr. Seward's diary that they had been at Lucy's death,
her real death, and that I need not fear to betray any secret
before the time. So I told them, as well as I could, that I had
read all the papers and diaries, and that my husband and I, having
typewritten them, had just finished putting them in order. I gave
them each a copy to read in the library. When Lord Godalming got
his and turned it over, it does make a pretty good pile, he said, |
his and turned it over, it does make a pretty good pile, he said,
"Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker?"
I nodded, and he went on.
"I don't quite see the drift of it, but you people are all so
good and kind, and have been working so earnestly and so
energetically, that all I can do is to accept your ideas blindfold
and try to help you. I have had one lesson already in accepting
facts that should make a man humble to the last hour of his life.
Besides, I know you loved my Lucy … "
Here he turned away and covered his face with his hands. I could
hear the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris, with instinctive delicacy,
just laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder, and then walked
quietly out of the room. I suppose there is something in a woman's
nature that makes a man free to break down before her and express
his feelings on the tender or emotional side without feeling it
derogatory to his manhood. For when Lord Godalming found himself
alone with me he sat down on the sofa and gave way utterly and
openly. I sat down beside him and took his hand. I hope he didn't
think it forward of me, and that if her ever thinks of it
afterwards he never will have such a thought. There I wrong him. I
know he never will. He is too true a gentleman. I said to him, for
I could see that his heart was breaking, "I loved dear Lucy, and I
know what she was to you, and what you were to her. She and I were
like sisters, and now she is gone, will you not let me be like a
sister to you in your trouble? I know what sorrows you have had,
though I cannot measure the depth of them. If sympathy and pity can
help in your affliction, won't you let me be of some little
service, for Lucy's sake?"
In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmed with grief.
It seemed to me that all that he had of late been suffering in
silence found a vent at once. He grew quite hysterical, and raising
his open hands, beat his palms together in a perfect agony of
grief. He stood up and then sat down again, and the tears rainedgrief. He stood up and then sat down again, and the tears rained
down his cheeks. I felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my
arms unthinkingly. With a sob he laid his head on my shoulder and
cried like a wearied child, whilst he shook with emotion.
We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise
above smaller matters when the mother spirit is invoked. I felt
this big sorrowing man's head resting on me, as though it were that
of a baby that some day may lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair
as though he were my own child. I never thought at the time how
strange it all was.
After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himself with
an apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me
that for days and nights past, weary days and sleepless nights, he
had been unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his
time of sorrow. There was no woman whose sympathy could be given to
him, or with whom, owing to the terrible circumstance with which
his sorrow was surrounded, he could speak freely.
"I know now how I suffered," he said, as he dried his eyes, "but
I do not know even yet, and none other can ever know, how much your
sweet sympathy has been to me today. I shall know better in time,
and believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude
will grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother,
will you not, for all our lives, for dear Lucy's sake?"
"For dear Lucy's sake," I said as we clasped hands."Ay, and for
your own sake," he added, "for if a man's esteem and gratitude are
ever worth the winning, you have won mine today. If ever the future
should bring to you a time when you need a man's help, believe me,
you will not call in vain. God grant that no such time may ever
come to you to break the sunshine of your life, but if it should
ever come, promise me that you will let me know."
He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that I felt it
would comfort him, so I said, "I promise."
As I came along the corridor I say Mr. Morris looking out of aAs I came along the corridor I say Mr. Morris looking out of a
window. He turned as he heard my footsteps. "How is Art?" he said.
Then noticing my red eyes, he went on,"Ah, I see you have been
comforting him. Poor old fellow! He needs it. No one but a woman
can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no
one to comfort him."
He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bled for him. I
saw the manuscript in his hand, and I knew that when he read it he
would realize how much I knew, so I said to him,"I wish I could
comfort all who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your
friend, and will you come to me for comfort if you need it? You
will know later why I speak."
He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took my hand, and
raising it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so
brave and unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed
him. The tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking
in his throat. He said quite calmly,"Little girl, you will never
forget that true hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!" Then
he went into the study to his friend.
"Little girl!" The very words he had used to Lucy, and, oh, but
he proved himself a friend.30 September.—I got home at five o'clock, and found that
Godalming and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied
the transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker had
not yet returned from his visit to the carriers' men, of whom Dr.
Hennessey had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and
I can honestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in
it, this old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs.
Harker said,
"Dr. Seward, may I ask a favor? I want to see your patient, Mr.
Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your
diary interests me so much!"
She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse
her, and there was no possible reason why I should, so I took her
with me. When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady
would like to see him, to which he simply answered, "Why?"
"She is going through the house, and wants to see every one in
it," I answered.
"Oh, very well," he said,"let her come in, by all means, but
just wait a minute till I tidy up the place."
His method of tidying was peculiar, he simply swallowed all the
flies and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was
quite evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference.
When he had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully,
"Let the lady come in," and sat down on the edge of his bed with
his head down, but with his eyelids raised so that he could see her
as she entered. For a moment I thought that he might have some
homicidal intent. I remembered how quiet he had been just before he
attacked me in my own study, and I took care to stand where I could
seize him at once if he attempted to make a spring at her.
She came into the room with an easy gracefulness which would at
once command the respect of any lunatic, for easiness is one of the
qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling
pleasantly, and held out her hand.
"Good evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you, |
pleasantly, and held out her hand.
"Good evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you,
for Dr. Seward has told me of you." He made no immediate reply, but
eyed her all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look
gave way to one of wonder, which merged in doubt, then to my
intense astonishment he said, "You're not the girl the doctor
wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's
dead."
Mrs. Harker smiled sweetly as she replied, "Oh no! I have a
husband of my own, to whom I was married before I ever saw Dr.
Seward, or he me. I am Mrs. Harker."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"My husband and I are staying on a visit with Dr. Seward."
"Then don't stay."
"But why not?"
I thought that this style of conversation might not be pleasant
to Mrs. Harker, any more than it was to me, so I joined in, "How
did you know I wanted to marry anyone?"
His reply was simply contemptuous, given in a pause in which he
turned his eyes from Mrs. Harker to me, instantly turning them back
again, "What an asinine question!"
"I don't see that at all, Mr. Renfield,"said Mrs. Harker, at
once championing me.
He replied to her with as much courtesy and respect as he had
shown contempt to me, "You will, of course, understand, Mrs.
Harker, that when a man is so loved and honored as our host is,
everything regarding him is of interest in our little community.
Dr. Seward is loved not only by his household and his friends, but
even by his patients, who, being some of them hardly in mental
equilibrium, are apt to distort causes and effects. Since I myself
have been an inmate of a lunatic asylum, I cannot but notice that
the sophistic tendencies of some of its inmates lean towards the
errors of non causa and ignoratio elenche."
I positively opened my eyes at this new development. Here was my
own pet lunatic, the most pronounced of his type that I had ever
met with, talking elemental philosophy, and with the manner of a
polished gentleman. I wonder if it was Mrs. Harker's presence whichpolished gentleman. I wonder if it was Mrs. Harker's presence which
had touched some chord in his memory. If this new phase was
spontaneous, or in any way due to her unconscious influence, she
must have some rare gift or power.
We continued to talk for some time, and seeing that he was
seemingly quite reasonable, she ventured, looking at me
questioningly as she began, to lead him to his favorite topic. I
was again astonished, for he addressed himself to the question with
the impartiality of the completest sanity. He even took himself as
an example when he mentioned certain things.
"Why, I myself am an instance of a man who had a strange belief.
Indeed, it was no wonder that my friends were alarmed, and insisted
on my being put under control. I used to fancy that life was a
positive and perpetual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of
live things, no matter how low in the scale of creation, one might
indefinitely prolong life. At times I held the belief so strongly
that I actually tried to take human life. The doctor here will bear
me out that on one occasion I tried to kill him for the purpose of
strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body
of his life through the medium of his blood, relying of course,
upon the Scriptural phrase, `For the blood is the life.' Though,
indeed, the vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarized the truism
to the very point of contempt. Isn't that true, doctor?"
I nodded assent, for I was so amazed that I hardly knew what to
either think or say, it was hard to imagine that I had seen him eat
up his spiders and flies not five minutes before. Looking at my
watch, I saw that I should go to the station to meet Van Helsing,
so I told Mrs. Harker that it was time to leave.
She came at once, after saying pleasantly to Mr. Renfield,
"Goodbye, and I hope I may see you often, under auspices pleasanter
to yourself."
To which, to my astonishment, he replied, "Goodbye, my dear. I
pray God I may never see your sweet face again. May He bless and
keep you!"pray God I may never see your sweet face again. May He bless and
keep you!"
When I went to the station to meet Van Helsing I left the boys
behind me. Poor Art seemed more cheerful than he has been since
Lucy first took ill, and Quincey is more like his own bright self
than he has been for many a long day.
Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eager nimbleness
of a boy. He saw me at once, and rushed up to me, saying, "Ah,
friend John, how goes all? Well? So! I have been busy, for I come
here to stay if need be. All affairs are settled with me, and I
have much to tell. Madam Mina is with you? Yes. And her so fine
husband? And Arthur and my friend Quincey, they are with you, too?
Good!"
As I drove to the house I told him of what had passed, and of
how my own diary had come to be of some use through Mrs. Harker's
suggestion, at which the Professor interrupted me.
"Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina! She has man's brain, a brain
that a man should have were he much gifted, and a woman's heart.
The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me, when He made
that so good combination. Friend John, up to now fortune has made
that woman of help to us, after tonight she must not have to do
with this so terrible affair. It is not good that she run a risk so
great. We men are determined, nay, are we not pledged, to destroy
this monster? But it is no part for a woman. Even if she be not
harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors and
hereafter she may suffer, both in waking,from her nerves, and in
sleep,from her dreams. And, besides, she is young woman and not so
long married, there may be other things to think of some time, if
not now. You tell me she has wrote all, then she must consult with
us, but tomorrow she say goodbye to this work, and we go
alone."
I agreed heartily with him, and then I told him what we had
found in his absence, that the house which Dracula had bought was
the very next one to my own. He was amazed, and a great concern
seemed to come on him. |
the very next one to my own. He was amazed, and a great concern
seemed to come on him.
"Oh that we had known it before!" he said, "for then we might
have reached him in time to save poor Lucy. However, `the milk that
is spilt cries not out afterwards,'as you say. We shall not think
of that, but go on our way to the end." Then he fell into a silence
that lasted till we entered my own gateway. Before we went to
prepare for dinner he said to Mrs. Harker, "I am told, Madam Mina,
by my friend John that you and your husband have put up in exact
order all things that have been, up to this moment."
"Not up to this moment, Professor,"she said impulsively, "but up
to this morning."
"But why not up to now? We have seen hitherto how good light all
the little things have made. We have told our secrets, and yet no
one who has told is the worse for it."
Mrs. Harker began to blush, and taking a paper from her pockets,
she said, "Dr. Van Helsing, will you read this, and tell me if it
must go in. It is my record of today. I too have seen the need of
putting down at present everything, however trivial, but there is
little in this except what is personal. Must it go in?"
The Professor read it over gravely, and handed it back, saying,
"It need not go in if you do not wish it, but I pray that it may.
It can but make your husband love you the more, and all us, your
friends, more honor you, as well as more esteem and love." She took
it back with another blush and a bright smile.
And so now, up to this very hour, all the records we have are
complete and in order. The Professor took away one copy to study
after dinner, and before our meeting, which is fixed for nine
o'clock. The rest of us have already read everything, so when we
meet in the study we shall all be informed as to facts, and can
arrange our plan of battle with this terrible and mysterious
enemy.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 September.—When we met in Dr. Seward's study two hours after
dinner, which had been at six o'clock, we unconsciously formed adinner, which had been at six o'clock, we unconsciously formed a
sort of board or committee. Professor Van Helsing took the head of
the table, to which Dr. Seward motioned him as he came into the
room. He made me sit next to him on his right, and asked me to act
as secretary. Jonathan sat next to me. Opposite us were Lord
Godalming, Dr. Seward, and Mr. Morris, Lord Godalming being next
the Professor, and Dr. Seward in the center.
The Professor said, "I may, I suppose, take it that we are all
acquainted with the facts that are in these papers." We all
expressed assent, and he went on, "Then it were, I think, good that
I tell you something of the kind of enemy with which we have to
deal. I shall then make known to you something of the history of
this man, which has been ascertained for me. So we then can discuss
how we shall act, and can take our measure according.
"There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence
that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy
experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof
enough for sane peoples. I admit that at the first I was sceptic.
Were it not that through long years I have trained myself to keep
an open mind, I could not have believed until such time as that
fact thunder on my ear.`See! See! I prove, I prove.' Alas! Had I
known at first what now I know, nay, had I even guess at him, one
so precious life had been spared to many of us who did love her.
But that is gone, and we must so work, that other poor souls perish
not, whilst we can save. The nosferatu do not die like the bee when
he sting once. He is only stronger, and being stronger, have yet
more power to work evil. This vampire which is amongst us is of
himself so strong in person as twenty men, he is of cunning more
than mortal, for his cunning be the growth of ages, he have still
the aids of necromancy, which is, as his etymology imply, the
divination by the dead, and all the dead that he can come nigh to
are for him at command, he is brute, and more than brute, he isare for him at command, he is brute, and more than brute, he is
devil in callous, and the heart of him is not, he can, within his
range, direct the elements, the storm, the fog, the thunder, he can
command all the meaner things, the rat, and the owl, and the bat,
the moth, and the fox, and the wolf, he can grow and become small,
and he can at times vanish and come unknown. How then are we to
begin our strike to destroy him? How shall we find his where, and
having found it, how can we destroy? My friends, this is much, it
is a terrible task that we undertake, and there may be consequence
to make the brave shudder. For if we fail in this our fight he must
surely win, and then where end we? Life is nothings, I heed him
not. But to fail here, is not mere life or death. It is that we
become as him, that we henceforward become foul things of the night
like him, without heart or conscience, preying on the bodies and
the souls of those we love best. To us forever are the gates of
heaven shut, for who shall open them to us again? We go on for all
time abhorred by all, a blot on the face of God's sunshine, an
arrow in the side of Him who died for man. But we are face to face
with duty, and in such case must we shrink? For me, I say no, but
then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his
song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others
are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in
store. What say you?"
Whilst he was speaking, Jonathan had taken my hand. I feared, oh
so much, that the appalling nature of our danger was overcoming him
when I saw his hand stretch out, but it was life to me to feel its
touch, so strong, so self reliant, so resolute. A brave man's hand
can speak for itself, it does not even need a woman's love to hear
its music.
When the Professor had done speaking my husband looked in my
eyes, and I in his, there was no need for speaking between us.
"I answer for Mina and myself," he said.
"Count me in, Professor," said Mr. Quincey Morris, laconically |
"Count me in, Professor," said Mr. Quincey Morris, laconically
as usual.
"I am with you," said Lord Godalming, "for Lucy's sake, if for
no other reason."
Dr. Seward simply nodded.
The Professor stood up and, after laying his golden crucifix on
the table, held out his hand on either side. I took his right hand,
and Lord Godalming his left, Jonathan held my right with his left
and stretched across to Mr. Morris. So as we all took hands our
solemn compact was made. I felt my heart icy cold, but it did not
even occur to me to draw back. We resumed our places, and Dr. Van
Helsing went on with a sort of cheerfulness which showed that the
serious work had begun. It was to be taken as gravely, and in as
businesslike a way, as any other transaction of life.
"Well, you know what we have to contend against, but we too, are
not without strength. We have on our side power of combination, a
power denied to the vampire kind, we have sources of science, we
are free to act and think, and the hours of the day and the night
are ours equally. In fact, so far as our powers extend, they are
unfettered, and we are free to use them. We have self devotion in a
cause and an end to achieve which is not a selfish one. These
things are much.
"Now let us see how far the general powers arrayed against us
are restrict, and how the individual cannot. In fine, let us
consider the limitations of the vampire in general, and of this one
in particular.
"All we have to go upon are traditions and superstitions. These
do not at the first appear much, when the matter is one of life and
death, nay of more than either life or death. Yet must we be
satisfied, in the first place because we have to be, no other means
is at our control, and secondly, because, after all these things,
tradition and superstition, are everything. Does not the belief in
vampires rest for others, though not, alas! for us, on them! A year
ago which of us would have received such a possibility, in the
midst of our scientific, sceptical, matter-of-fact nineteenthmidst of our scientific, sceptical, matter-of-fact nineteenth
century? We even scouted a belief that we saw justified under our
very eyes. Take it, then, that the vampire, and the belief in his
limitations and his cure, rest for the moment on the same base.
For, let me tell you, he is known everywhere that men have been. In
old Greece, in old Rome, he flourish in Germany all over, in
France, in India, even in the Chermosese, and in China, so far from
us in all ways, there even is he, and the peoples for him at this
day. He have follow the wake of the berserker Icelander, the
devil-begotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, the Magyar.
"So far, then, we have all we may act upon, and let me tell you
that very much of the beliefs are justified by what we have seen in
our own so unhappy experience. The vampire live on, and cannot die
by mere passing of the time, he can flourish when that he can
fatten on the blood of the living. Even more, we have seen amongst
us that he can even grow younger, that his vital faculties grow
strenuous, and seem as though they refresh themselves when his
special pabulum is plenty.
"But he cannot flourish without this diet, he eat not as others.
Even friend Jonathan, who lived with him for weeks, did never see
him eat, never! He throws no shadow, he make in the mirror no
reflect, as again Jonathan observe. He has the strength of many of
his hand, witness again Jonathan when he shut the door against the
wolves, and when he help him from the diligence too. He can
transform himself to wolf, as we gather from the ship arrival in
Whitby, when he tear open the dog, he can be as bat, as Madam Mina
saw him on the window at Whitby, and as friend John saw him fly
from this so near house, and as my friend Quincey saw him at the
window of Miss Lucy.
"He can come in mist which he create, that noble ship's captain
proved him of this, but, from what we know, the distance he can
make this mist is limited, and it can only be round himself.
"He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust, as again Jonathan"He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust, as again Jonathan
saw those sisters in the castle of Dracula. He become so small, we
ourselves saw Miss Lucy, ere she was at peace, slip through a
hairbreadth space at the tomb door. He can, when once he find his
way, come out from anything or into anything, no matter how close
it be bound or even fused up with fire, solder you call it. He can
see in the dark, no small power this, in a world which is one half
shut from the light. Ah, but hear me through.
"He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay, he is even
more prisoner than the slave of the galley, than the madman in his
cell. He cannot go where he lists, he who is not of nature has yet
to obey some of nature's laws, why we know not. He may not enter
anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household
who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please.
His power ceases, as does that of all evil things, at the coming of
the day.
"Only at certain times can he have limited freedom. If he be not
at the place whither he is bound, he can only change himself at
noon or at exact sunrise or sunset. These things we are told, and
in this record of ours we have proof by inference. Thus, whereas he
can do as he will within his limit, when he have his earth-home,his
coffin-home, his hellhome, the place unhallowed, as we saw when he
went to the grave of the suicide at Whitby, still at other time he
can only change when the time come. It is said, too, that he can
only pass running water at the slack or the flood of the tide. Then
there are things which so afflict him that he has no power, as the
garlic that we know of, and as for things sacred, as this symbol,
my crucifix, that was amongst us even now when we resolve, to them
he is nothing, but in their presence he take his place far off and
silent with respect. There are others, too, which I shall tell you
of, lest in our seeking we may need them.
"The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not |
"The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not
from it, a sacred bullet fired into the coffin kill him so that he
be true dead, and as for the stake through him, we know already of
its peace, or the cut off head that giveth rest. We have seen it
with our eyes.
"Thus when we find the habitation of this man-that-was, we can
confine him to his coffin and destroy him, if we obey what we know.
But he is clever. I have asked my friend Arminius, of Buda-Pesth
University, to make his record, and from all the means that are, he
tell me of what he has been. He must, indeed, have been that
Voivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk, over the great
river on the very frontier of Turkey-land. If it be so, then was he
no common man, for in that time, and for centuries after, he was
spoken of as the cleverest and the most cunning, as well as the
bravest of the sons of the `land beyond the forest.' That mighty
brain and that iron resolution went with him to his grave, and are
even now arrayed against us. The Draculas were, says Arminius, a
great and noble race, though now and again were scions who were
held by their coevals to have had dealings with the Evil One. They
learned his secrets in the Scholomance, amongst the mountains over
Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as his
due. In the records are such words as `stregoica' witch, `ordog'
and `pokol' Satan and hell, and in one manuscript this very Dracula
is spoken of as `wampyr,'which we all understand too well. There
have been from the loins of this very one great men and good women,
and their graves make sacred the earth where alone this foulness
can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that this evil
thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of holy memories
it cannot rest."
Whilst they were talking Mr. Morris was looking steadily at the
window, and he now got up quietly, and went out of the room. There
was a little pause, and then the Professor went on.was a little pause, and then the Professor went on.
"And now we must settle what we do. We have here much data, and
we must proceed to lay out our campaign. We know from the inquiry
of Jonathan that from the castle to Whitby came fifty boxes of
earth, all of which were delivered at Carfax, we also know that at
least some of these boxes have been removed. It seems to me, that
our first step should be to ascertain whether all the rest remain
in the house beyond that wall where we look today, or whether any
more have been removed. If the latter, we must trace … "
Here we were interrupted in a very startling way. Outside the
house came the sound of a pistol shot, the glass of the window was
shattered with a bullet, which ricochetting from the top of the
embrasure, struck the far wall of the room. I am afraid I am at
heart a coward, for I shrieked out. The men all jumped to their
feet, Lord Godalming flew over to the window and threw up the sash.
As he did so we heard Mr. Morris' voice without, "Sorry! I fear I
have alarmed you. I shall come in and tell you about it."
A minute later he came in and said, "It was an idiotic thing of
me to do, and I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harker, most sincerely, I
fear I must have frightened you terribly. But the fact is that
whilst the Professor was talking there came a big bat and sat on
the window sill. I have got such a horror of the damned brutes from
recent events that I cannot stand them, and I went out to have a
shot, as I have been doing of late of evenings, whenever I have
seen one. You used to laugh at me for it then, Art."
"Did you hit it?" asked Dr. Van Helsing.
"I don't know, I fancy not, for it flew away into the wood."
Without saying any more he took his seat, and the Professor began
to resume his statement.
"We must trace each of these boxes, and when we are ready, we
must either capture or kill this monster in his lair, or we must,
so to speak, sterilize the earth, so that no more he can seek
safety in it. Thus in the end we may find him in his form of mansafety in it. Thus in the end we may find him in his form of man
between the hours of noon and sunset, and so engage with him when
he is at his most weak.
"And now for you, Madam Mina,this night is the end until all be
well. You are too precious to us to have such risk. When we part
tonight, you no more must question. We shall tell you all in good
time. We are men and are able to bear, but you must be our star and
our hope, and we shall act all the more free that you are not in
the danger, such as we are."
All the men, even Jonathan, seemed relieved, but it did not seem
to me good that they should brave danger and, perhaps lessen their
safety, strength being the best safety, through care of me, but
their minds were made up, and though it was a bitter pill for me to
swallow, I could say nothing, save to accept their chivalrous care
of me.
Mr. Morris resumed the discussion, "As there is no time to lose,
I vote we have a look at his house right now. Time is everything
with him, and swift action on our part may save another
victim."
I own that my heart began to fail me when the time for action
came so close, but I did not say anything, for I had a greater fear
that if I appeared as a drag or a hindrance to their work, they
might even leave me out of their counsels altogether. They have now
gone off to Carfax, with means to get into the house.
Manlike, they had told me to go to bed and sleep, as if a woman
can sleep when those she loves are in danger!I shall lie down, and
pretend to sleep, lest Jonathan have added anxiety about me when he
returns.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
1 October, 4 a. m.—Just as we were about to leave the house, an
urgent message was brought to me from Renfield to know if I would
see him at once, as he had something of the utmost importance to
say to me. I told the messenger to say that I would attend to his
wishes in the morning, I was busy just at the moment.
The attendant added, "He seems very importunate, sir. I have
never seen him so eager. I don't know but what, if you don't see |
never seen him so eager. I don't know but what, if you don't see
him soon, he will have one of his violent fits." I knew the man
would not have said this without some cause, so I said, "All right,
I'll go now," and I asked the others to wait a few minutes for me,
as I had to go and see my patient.
"Take me with you, friend John," said the Professor."His case in
your diary interest me much, and it had bearing, too, now and again
on our case. I should much like to see him, and especial when his
mind is disturbed."
"May I come also?" asked Lord Godalming.
"Me too?" said Quincey Morris. "May I come?" said Harker. I
nodded, and we all went down the passage together.
We found him in a state of considerable excitement, but far more
rational in his speech and manner than I had ever seen him. There
was an unusual understanding of himself, which was unlike anything
I had ever met with in a lunatic, and he took it for granted that
his reasons would prevail with others entirely sane. We all five
went into the room, but none of the others at first said anything.
His request was that I would at once release him from the asylum
and send him home. This he backed up with arguments regarding his
complete recovery, and adduced his own existing sanity.
"I appeal to your friends,"he said,"they will, perhaps, not mind
sitting in judgement on my case. By the way, you have not
introduced me."
I was so much astonished, that the oddness of introducing a
madman in an asylum did not strike me at the moment, and besides,
there was a certain dignity in the man's manner, so much of the
habit of equality, that I at once made the introduction, "Lord
Godalming, Professor Van Helsing, Mr. Quincey Morris, of Texas, Mr.
Jonathan Harker, Mr. Renfield."
He shook hands with each of them, saying in turn, "Lord
Godalming, I had the honor of seconding your father at the Windham,
I grieve to know, by your holding the title, that he is no more. He
was a man loved and honored by all who knew him, and in his youthwas a man loved and honored by all who knew him, and in his youth
was, I have heard, the inventor of a burnt rum punch, much
patronized on Derby night. Mr. Morris, you should be proud of your
great state. Its reception into the Union was a precedent which may
have farreaching effects hereafter, when the Pole and the Tropics
may hold alliance to the Stars and Stripes. The power of Treaty may
yet prove a vast engine of enlargement, when the Monroe doctrine
takes its true place as a political fable. What shall any man say
of his pleasure at meeting Van Helsing? Sir, I make no apology for
dropping all forms of conventional prefix. When an individual has
revolutionized therapeutics by his discovery of the continuous
evolution of brain matter, conventional forms are unfitting, since
they would seem to limit him to one of a class. You, gentlemen, who
by nationality, by heredity, or by the possession of natural gifts,
are fitted to hold your respective places in the moving world, I
take to witness that I am as sane as at least the majority of men
who are in full possession of their liberties. And I am sure that
you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian and medico-jurist as well as
scientist, will deem it a moral duty to deal with me as one to be
considered as under exceptional circumstances."He made this last
appeal with a courtly air of conviction which was not without its
own charm.
I think we were all staggered. For my own part, I was under the
conviction, despite my knowledge of the man's character and
history, that his reason had been restored, and I felt under a
strong impulse to tell him that I was satisfied as to his sanity,
and would see about the necessary formalities for his release in
the morning. I thought it better to wait, however, before making so
grave a statement, for of old I knew the sudden changes to which
this particular patient was liable. So I contented myself with
making a general statement that he appeared to be improving very
rapidly, that I would have a longer chat with him in the morning,rapidly, that I would have a longer chat with him in the morning,
and would then see what I could do in the direction of meeting his
wishes.
This did not at all satisfy him, for he said quickly, "But I
fear, Dr. Seward, that you hardly apprehend my wish. I desire to go
at once, here, now, this very hour, this very moment, if I may.
Time presses, and in our implied agreement with the old scytheman
it is of the essence of the contract. I am sure it is only
necessary to put before so admirable a practitioner as Dr. Seward
so simple, yet so momentous a wish, to ensure its fulfilment."
He looked at me keenly, and seeing the negative in my face,
turned to the others, and scrutinized them closely. Not meeting any
sufficient response, he went on, "Is it possible that I have erred
in my supposition?"
"You have," I said frankly, but at the same time, as I felt,
brutally.
There was a considerable pause, and then he said slowly, "Then I
suppose I must only shift my ground of request. Let me ask for this
concession, boon, privilege, what you will. I am content to implore
in such a case, not on personal grounds, but for the sake of
others. I am not at liberty to give you the whole of my reasons,
but you may, I assure you, take it from me that they are good ones,
sound and unselfish, and spring from the highest sense of duty.
"Could you look, sir, into my heart, you would approve to the
full the sentiments which animate me. Nay, more, you would count me
amongst the best and truest of your friends."
Again he looked at us all keenly. I had a growing conviction
that this sudden change of his entire intellectual method was but
yet another phase of his madness, and so determined to let him go
on a little longer, knowing from experience that he would, like all
lunatics, give himself away in the end. Van Helsing was gazing at
him with a look of utmost intensity, his bushy eyebrows almost
meeting with the fixed concentration of his look. He said to
Renfield in a tone which did not surprise me at the time, but only |
Renfield in a tone which did not surprise me at the time, but only
when I thought of it afterwards, for it was as of one addressing an
equal, "Can you not tell frankly your real reason for wishing to be
free tonight? I will undertake that if you will satisfy even me, a
stranger, without prejudice, and with the habit of keeping an open
mind, Dr. Seward will give you, at his own risk and on his own
responsibility, the privilege you seek."
He shook his head sadly, and with a look of poignant regret on
his face. The Professor went on, "Come, sir, bethink yourself. You
claim the privilege of reason in the highest degree, since you seek
to impress us with your complete reasonableness. You do this, whose
sanity we have reason to doubt, since you are not yet released from
medical treatment for this very defect. If you will not help us in
our effort to choose the wisest course, how can we perform the duty
which you yourself put upon us? Be wise, and help us, and if we can
we shall aid you to achieve your wish."
He still shook his head as he said, "Dr. Van Helsing, I have
nothing to say. Your argument is complete, and if I were free to
speak I should not hesitate a moment, but I am not my own master in
the matter. I can only ask you to trust me. If I am refused, the
responsibility does not rest with me."
I thought it was now time to end the scene, which was becoming
too comically grave, so I went towards the door, simply saying,
"Come, my friends, we have work to do. Goodnight."
As, however, I got near the door, a new change came over the
patient. He moved towards me so quickly that for the moment I
feared that he was about to make another homicidal attack. My
fears, however, were groundless, for he held up his two hands
imploringly, and made his petition in a moving manner. As he saw
that the very excess of his emotion was militating against him, by
restoring us more to our old relations, he became still more
demonstrative. I glanced at Van Helsing, and saw my convictiondemonstrative. I glanced at Van Helsing, and saw my conviction
reflected in his eyes, so I became a little more fixed in my
manner, if not more stern, and motioned to him that his efforts
were unavailing. I had previously seen something of the same
constantly growing excitement in him when he had to make some
request of which at the time he had thought much, such for
instance, as when he wanted a cat, and I was prepared to see the
collapse into the same sullen acquiescence on this occasion.
My expectation was not realized, for when he found that his
appeal would not be successful, he got into quite a frantic
condition. He threw himself on his knees, and held up his hands,
wringing them in plaintive supplication, and poured forth a torrent
of entreaty, with the tears rolling down his cheeks, and his whole
face and form expressive of the deepest emotion.
"Let me entreat you, Dr. Seward, oh, let me implore you, to let
me out of this house at once. Send me away how you will and where
you will, send keepers with me with whips and chains, let them take
me in a strait waistcoat, manacled and leg-ironed, even to gaol,
but let me go out of this. You don't know what you do by keeping me
here. I am speaking from the depths of my heart, of my very soul.
You don't know whom you wrong, or how, and I may not tell. Woe is
me! I may not tell. By all you hold sacred, by all you hold dear,
by your love that is lost, by your hope that lives, for the sake of
the Almighty, take me out of this and save my soul from guilt!
Can't you hear me, man? Can't you understand? Will you never learn?
Don't you know that I am sane and earnest now, that I am no lunatic
in a mad fit, but a sane man fighting for his soul? Oh, hear me!
Hear me! Let me go, let me go, let me go!"
I thought that the longer this went on the wilder he would get,
and so would bring on a fit, so I took him by the hand and raised
him up.
"Come," I said sternly, "no more of this, we have had quite
enough already. Get to your bed and try to behave more
discreetly."enough already. Get to your bed and try to behave more
discreetly."
He suddenly stopped and looked at me intently for several
moments. Then, without a word, he rose and moving over, sat down on
the side of the bed. The collapse had come, as on former occasions,
just as I had expected.
When I was leaving the room, last of our party, he said to me in
a quiet, well-bred voice, "You will, I trust, Dr. Seward, do me the
justice to bear in mind, later on, that I did what I could to
convince you tonight."1 October, 5 a. m.—I went with the party to the search with an
easy mind, for I think I never saw Mina so absolutely strong and
well. I am so glad that she consented to hold back and let us men
do the work. Somehow, it was a dread to me that she was in this
fearful business at all, but now that her work is done, and that it
is due to her energy and brains and foresight that the whole story
is put together in such a way that every point tells, she may well
feel that her part is finished, and that she can henceforth leave
the rest to us. We were, I think, all a little upset by the scene
with Mr. Renfield. When we came away from his room we were silent
till we got back to the study.
Then Mr. Morris said to Dr. Seward, "Say, Jack, if that man
wasn't attempting a bluff, he is about the sanest lunatic I ever
saw. I'm not sure, but I believe that he had some serious purpose,
and if he had, it was pretty rough on him not to get a chance."
Lord Godalming and I were silent, but Dr. Van Helsing added,
"Friend John, you know more lunatics than I do, and I'm glad of it,
for I fear that if it had been to me to decide I would before that
last hysterical outburst have given him free. But we live and
learn, and in our present task we must take no chance, as my friend
Quincey would say. All is best as they are."
Dr. Seward seemed to answer them both in a dreamy kind of way,
"I don't know but that I agree with you. If that man had been an
ordinary lunatic I would have taken my chance of trusting him, but
he seems so mixed up with the Count in an indexy kind of way that I
am afraid of doing anything wrong by helping his fads. I can't
forget how he prayed with almost equal fervor for a cat, and then
tried to tear my throat out with his teeth. Besides, he called the
Count `lord and master', and he may want to get out to help him in
some diabolical way. That horrid thing has the wolves and the rats
and his own kind to help him, so I suppose he isn't above trying to
use a respectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I |
use a respectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I
only hope we have done what is best. These things, in conjunction
with the wild work we have in hand, help to unnerve a man."
The Professor stepped over, and laying his hand on his shoulder,
said in his grave, kindly way, "Friend John, have no fear. We are
trying to do our duty in a very sad and terrible case, we can only
do as we deem best. What else have we to hope for, except the pity
of the good God?"
Lord Godalming had slipped away for a few minutes, but now he
returned. He held up a little silver whistle, as he remarked, "That
old place may be full of rats, and if so, I've got an antidote on
call."
Having passed the wall, we took our way to the house, taking
care to keep in the shadows of the trees on the lawn when the
moonlight shone out. When we got to the porch the Professor opened
his bag and took out a lot of things, which he laid on the step,
sorting them into four little groups, evidently one for each. Then
he spoke.
"My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, and we need
arms of many kinds. Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember
that he has the strength of twenty men, and that, though our necks
or our windpipes are of the common kind, and therefore breakable or
crushable, his are not amenable to mere strength. A stronger man,
or a body of men more strong in all than him, can at certain times
hold him, but they cannot hurt him as we can be hurt by him. We
must, therefore, guard ourselves from his touch. Keep this near
your heart." As he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and
held it out to me, I being nearest to him, "put these flowers round
your neck," here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic
blossoms, "for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this
knife, and for aid in all, these so small electric lamps, which you
can fasten to your breast, and for all, and above all at the last,
this, which we must not desecrate needless."
This was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelopeThis was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelope
and handed to me. Each of the others was similarly equipped.
"Now,"he said,"friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so
that we can open the door, we need not break house by the window,
as before at Miss Lucy's."
Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical
dexterity as a surgeon standing him in good stead. Presently he got
one to suit, after a little play back and forward the bolt yielded,
and with a rusty clang, shot back. We pressed on the door, the
rusty hinges creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like
the image conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of
Miss Westenra's tomb, I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike
the others, for with one accord they shrank back. The Professor was
the first to move forward, and stepped into the open door.
"In manus tuas, Domine!"he said, crossing himself as he passed
over the threshold. We closed the door behind us, lest when we
should have lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from
the road. The Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not
be able to open it from within should we be in a hurry making our
exit. Then we all lit our lamps and proceeded on our search.
The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as
the rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw
great shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling
that there was someone else amongst us. I suppose it was the
recollection, so powerfully brought home to me by the grim
surroundings, of that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think
the feeling was common to us all, for I noticed that the others
kept looking over their shoulders at every sound and every new
shadow, just as I felt myself doing.
The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly
inches deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on
holding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dustholding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust
was cracked. The walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the
corners were masses of spider's webs, whereon the dust had gathered
till they looked like old tattered rags as the weight had torn them
partly down. On a table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with
a timeyellowed label on each. They had been used several times, for
on the table were several similar rents in the blanket of dust,
similar to that exposed when the Professor lifted them.
He turned to me and said,"You know this place, Jonathan. You
have copied maps of it, and you know it at least more than we do.
Which is the way to the chapel?"
I had an idea of its direction, though on my former visit I had
not been able to get admission to it, so I led the way, and after a
few wrong turnings found myself opposite a low, arched oaken door,
ribbed with iron bands.
"This is the spot," said the Professor as he turned his lamp on
a small map of the house, copied from the file of my original
correspondence regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we
found the key on the bunch and opened the door. We were prepared
for some unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door a faint,
malodorous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us
ever expected such an odor as we encountered. None of the others
had met the Count at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him
he was either in the fasting stage of his existence in his rooms
or, when he was bloated with fresh blood, in a ruined building open
to the air, but here the place was small and close, and the long
disuse had made the air stagnant and foul. There was an earthy
smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the fouler air.
But as to the odor itself, how shall I describe it? It was not
alone that it was composed of all the ills of mortality and with
the pungent, acrid smell of blood, but it seemed as though
corruption had become itself corrupt. Faugh! It sickens me to think |
corruption had become itself corrupt. Faugh! It sickens me to think
of it. Every breath exhaled by that monster seemed to have clung to
the place and intensified its loathsomeness.
Under ordinary circumstances such a stench would have brought
our enterprise to an end, but this was no ordinary case, and the
high and terrible purpose in which we were involved gave us a
strength which rose above merely physical considerations. After the
involuntary shrinking consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we
one and all set about our work as though that loathsome place were
a garden of roses.
We made an accurate examination of the place, the Professor
saying as we began, "The first thing is to see how many of the
boxes are left, we must then examine every hole and corner and
cranny and see if we cannot get some clue as to what has become of
the rest."
A glance was sufficient to show how many remained, for the great
earth chests were bulky, and there was no mistaking them.
There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty! Once I got a
fright, for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of
the vaulted door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and
for an instant my heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from
the shadow, I seemed to see the high lights of the Count's evil
face, the ridge of the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful
pallor. It was only for a moment, for, as Lord Godalming said,"I
thought I saw a face, but it was only the shadows," and resumed his
inquiry, I turned my lamp in the direction, and stepped into the
passage. There was no sign of anyone, and as there were no corners,
no doors, no aperture of any kind, but only the solid walls of the
passage, there could be no hiding place even for him. I took it
that fear had helped imagination, and said nothing.
A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly back from a
corner, which he was examining. We all followed his movements with
our eyes, for undoubtedly some nervousness was growing on us, andour eyes, for undoubtedly some nervousness was growing on us, and
we saw a whole mass of phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars.
We all instinctively drew back. The whole place was becoming alive
with rats.
For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save Lord Godalming,
who was seemingly prepared for such an emergency. Rushing over to
the great iron-bound oaken door, which Dr. Seward had described
from the outside, and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in
the lock, drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open. Then,
taking his little silver whistle from his pocket, he blew a low,
shrill call. It was answered from behind Dr. Seward's house by the
yelping of dogs, and after about a minute three terriers came
dashing round the corner of the house. Unconsciously we had all
moved towards the door, and as we moved I noticed that the dust had
been much disturbed. The boxes which had been taken out had been
brought this way. But even in the minute that had elapsed the
number of the rats had vastly increased. They seemed to swarm over
the place all at once, till the lamplight, shining on their moving
dark bodies and glittering, baleful eyes, made the place look like
a bank of earth set with fireflies. The dogs dashed on, but at the
threshold suddenly stopped and snarled, and then,simultaneously
lifting their noses, began to howl in most lugubrious fashion. The
rats were multiplying in thousands, and we moved out.
Lord Godalming lifted one of the dogs, and carrying him in,
placed him on the floor. The instant his feet touched the ground he
seemed to recover his courage, and rushed at his natural enemies.
They fled before him so fast that before he had shaken the life out
of a score, the other dogs, who had by now been lifted in the same
manner, had but small prey ere the whole mass had vanished.
With their going it seemed as if some evil presence had
departed, for the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they
made sudden darts at their prostrate foes, and turned them over andmade sudden darts at their prostrate foes, and turned them over and
over and tossed them in the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed
to find our spirits rise. Whether it was the purifying of the
deadly atmosphere by the opening of the chapel door, or the relief
which we experienced by finding ourselves in the open I know not,
but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to slip from us like
a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something of its grim
significance, though we did not slacken a whit in our resolution.
We closed the outer door and barred and locked it, and bringing the
dogs with us, began our search of the house. We found nothing
throughout except dust in extraordinary proportions, and all
untouched save for my own footsteps when I had made my first visit.
Never once did the dogs exhibit any symptom of uneasiness, and even
when we returned to the chapel they frisked about as though they
had been rabbit hunting in a summer wood.
The morning was quickening in the east when we emerged from the
front. Dr. Van Helsing had taken the key of the hall door from the
bunch, and locked the door in orthodox fashion, putting the key
into his pocket when he had done.
"So far," he said, "our night has been eminently successful. No
harm has come to us such as I feared might be and yet we have
ascertained how many boxes are missing. More than all do I rejoice
that this, our first, and perhaps our most difficult and dangerous,
step has been accomplished without the bringing thereinto our most
sweet Madam Mina or troubling her waking or sleeping thoughts with
sights and sounds and smells of horror which she might never
forget. One lesson, too, we have learned, if it be allowable to
argue a particulari, that the brute beasts which are to the Count's
command are yet themselves not amenable to his spiritual power, for
look, these rats that would come to his call, just as from his
castle top he summon the wolves to your going and to that poor
mother's cry, though they come to him, they run pell-mell from the |
mother's cry, though they come to him, they run pell-mell from the
so little dogs of my friend Arthur. We have other matters before
us, other dangers, other fears, and that monster … He has not
used his power over the brute world for the only or the last time
tonight. So be it that he has gone elsewhere. Good! It has given us
opportunity to cry `check'in some ways in this chess game, which we
play for the stake of human souls. And now let us go home. The dawn
is close at hand, and we have reason to be content with our first
night's work. It may be ordained that we have many nights and days
to follow, if full of peril, but we must go on, and from no danger
shall we shrink."
The house was silent when we got back, save for some poor
creature who was screaming away in one of the distant wards, and a
low, moaning sound from Renfield's room. The poor wretch was
doubtless torturing himself, after the manner of the insane, with
needless thoughts of pain.
I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Mina asleep,
breathing so softly that I had to put my ear down to hear it. She
looks paler than usual. I hope the meeting tonight has not upset
her. I am truly thankful that she is to be left out of our future
work, and even of our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a
woman to bear. I did not think so at first, but I know better now.
Therefore I am glad that it is settled. There may be things which
would frighten her to hear, and yet to conceal them from her might
be worse than to tell her if once she suspected that there was any
concealment. Henceforth our work is to be a sealed book to her,
till at least such time as we can tell her that all is finished,
and the earth free from a monster of the nether world. I daresay it
will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such confidence as
ours, but I must be resolute, and tomorrow I shall keep dark over
tonight's doings, and shall refuse to speak of anything that has
happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to disturb her.happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to disturb her.
1 October, later.—I suppose it was natural that we should have
all overslept ourselves, for the day was a busy one, and the night
had no rest at all. Even Mina must have felt its exhaustion, for
though I slept till the sun was high, I was awake before her, and
had to call two or three times before she awoke. Indeed, she was so
sound asleep that for a few seconds she did not recognize me, but
looked at me with a sort of blank terror, as one looks who has been
waked out of a bad dream. She complained a little of being tired,
and I let her rest till later in the day. We now know of twenty-one
boxes having been removed, and if it be that several were taken in
any of these removals we may be able to trace them all. Such will,
of course, immensely simplify our labor, and the sooner the matter
is attended to the better. I shall look up Thomas Snelling
today.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
1 October.—It was towards noon when I was awakened by the
Professor walking into my room. He was more jolly and cheerful than
usual, and it is quite evident that last night's work has helped to
take some of the brooding weight off his mind.
After going over the adventure of the night he suddenly said,
"Your patient interests me much. May it be that with you I visit
him this morning? Or if that you are too occupy, I can go alone if
it may be. It is a new experience to me to find a lunatic who talk
philosophy, and reason so sound."
I had some work to do which pressed, so I told him that if he
would go alone I would be glad, as then I should not have to keep
him waiting, so I called an attendant and gave him the necessary
instructions. Before the Professor left the room I cautioned him
against getting any false impression from my patient.
"But," he answered, "I want him to talk of himself and of his
delusion as to consuming live things. He said to Madam Mina, as I
see in your diary of yesterday, that he had once had such a belief.
Why do you smile, friend John?"see in your diary of yesterday, that he had once had such a belief.
Why do you smile, friend John?"
"Excuse me," I said, "but the answer is here." I laid my hand on
the typewritten matter."When our sane and learned lunatic made that
very statement of how he used to consume life, his mouth was
actually nauseous with the flies and spiders which he had eaten
just before Mrs. Harker entered the room."
Van Helsing smiled in turn. "Good!" he said. "Your memory is
true, friend John. I should have remembered. And yet it is this
very obliquity of thought and memory which makes mental disease
such a fascinating study. Perhaps I may gain more knowledge out of
the folly of this madman than I shall from the teaching of the most
wise. Who knows?"
I went on with my work, and before long was through that in
hand. It seemed that the time had been very short indeed, but there
was Van Helsing back in the study.
"Do I interrupt?" he asked politely as he stood at the door.
"Not at all,"I answered. "Come in. My work is finished, and I am
free. I can go with you now, if you like."
"It is needless, I have seen him!"
"Well?"
"I fear that he does not appraise me at much. Our interview was
short. When I entered his room he was sitting on a stool in the
center, with his elbows on his knees, and his face was the picture
of sullen discontent. I spoke to him as cheerfully as I could, and
with such a measure of respect as I could assume. He made no reply
whatever. 'Don't you know me?' I asked. His answer was not
reassuring. "I know you well enough, you are the old fool Van
Helsing. I wish you would take yourself and your idiotic brain
theories somewhere else. Damn all thick-headed Dutchmen!' Not a
word more would he say, but sat in his implacable sullenness as
indifferent to me as though I had not been in the room at all. Thus
departed for this time my chance of much learning from this so
clever lunatic, so I shall go, if I may, and cheer myself with a
few happy words with that sweet soul Madam Mina. Friend John, it |
few happy words with that sweet soul Madam Mina. Friend John, it
does rejoice me unspeakable that she is no more to be pained, no
more to be worried with our terrible things. Though we shall much
miss her help, it is better so."
"I agree with you with all my heart," I answered earnestly, for
I did not want him to weaken in this matter. "Mrs. Harker is better
out of it. Things are quite bad enough for us, all men of the
world, and who have been in many tight places in our time, but it
is no place for a woman, and if she had remained in touch with the
affair, it would in time infallibly have wrecked her."
So Van Helsing has gone to confer with Mrs. Harker and Harker,
Quincey and Art are all out following up the clues as to the earth
boxes. I shall finish my round of work and we shall meet
tonight.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
1 October.—It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am
today, after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years, to see
him manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of
all. This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and
though Jonathan was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me
before he went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never
mentioned a word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's
house. And yet he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor
dear fellow! I suppose it must have distressed him even more than
it did me. They all agreed that it was best that I should not be
drawn further into this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think
that he keeps anything from me! And now I am crying like a silly
fool, when I know it comes from my husband's great love and from
the good, good wishes of those other strong men.
That has done me good. Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all.
And lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I
kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if
he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with everyhe has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every
thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read. I feel
strangely sad and low-spirited today. I suppose it is the reaction
from the terrible excitement.
Last night I went to bed when the men had gone, simply because
they told me to. I didn't feel sleepy, and I did feel full of
devouring anxiety. I kept thinking over everything that has been
ever since Jonathan came to see me in London, and it all seems like
a horrible tragedy, with fate pressing on relentlessly to some
destined end. Everything that one does seems, no matter how right
it me be, to bring on the very thing which is most to be deplored.
If I hadn't gone to Whitby, perhaps poor dear Lucy would be with us
now. She hadn't taken to visiting the churchyard till I came, and
if she hadn't come there in the day time with me she wouldn't have
walked in her sleep. And if she hadn't gone there at night and
asleep, that monster couldn't have destroyed her as he did. Oh, why
did I ever go to Whitby? There now, crying again! I wonder what has
come over me today. I must hide it from Jonathan, for if he knew
that I had been crying twice in one morning … I, who never
cried on my own account, and whom he has never caused to shed a
tear, the dear fellow would fret his heart out. I shall put a bold
face on, and if I do feel weepy, he shall never see it. I suppose
it is just one of the lessons that we poor women have to
learn …
I can't quite remember how I fell asleep last night. I remember
hearing the sudden barking of the dogs and a lot of queer sounds,
like praying on a very tumultuous scale, from Mr. Renfield's room,
which is somewhere under this. And then there was silence over
everything, silence so profound that it startled me, and I got up
and looked out of the window. All was dark and silent, the black
shadows thrown by the moonlight seeming full of a silent mystery of
their own. Not a thing seemed to be stirring, but all to be grim
and fixed as death or fate, so that a thin streak of whiteand fixed as death or fate, so that a thin streak of white
mist,that crept with almost imperceptible slowness across the grass
towards the house, seemed to have a sentience and a vitality of its
own. I think that the digression of my thoughts must have done me
good, for when I got back to bed I found a lethargy creeping over
me. I lay a while, but could not quite sleep, so I got out and
looked out of the window again. The mist was spreading, and was now
close up to the house, so that I could see it lying thick against
the wall, as though it were stealing up to the windows. The poor
man was more loud than ever, and though I could not distinguish a
word he said, I could in some way recognize in his tones some
passionate entreaty on his part. Then there was the sound of a
struggle, and I knew that the attendants were dealing with him. I
was so frightened that I crept into bed, and pulled the clothes
over my head, putting my fingers in my ears. I was not then a bit
sleepy, at least so I thought, but I must have fallen asleep, for
except dreams, I do not remember anything until the morning, when
Jonathan woke me. I think that it took me an effort and a little
time to realize where I was, and that it was Jonathan who was
bending over me. My dream was very peculiar, and was almost typical
of the way that waking thoughts become merged in, or continued in,
dreams.
I thought that I was asleep, and waiting for Jonathan to come
back. I was very anxious about him, and I was powerless to act, my
feet, and my hands, and my brain were weighted, so that nothing
could proceed at the usual pace. And so I slept uneasily and
thought. Then it began to dawn upon me that the air was heavy, and
dank, and cold. I put back the clothes from my face, and found, to
my surprise, that all was dim around. The gaslight which I had left
lit for Jonathan, but turned down, came only like a tiny red spark
through the fog, which had evidently grown thicker and poured into
the room. Then it occurred to me that I had shut the window before |
the room. Then it occurred to me that I had shut the window before
I had come to bed. I would have got out to make certain on the
point, but some leaden lethargy seemed to chain my limbs and even
my will. I lay still and endured, that was all. I closed my eyes,
but could still see through my eyelids. (It is wonderful what
tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.)
The mist grew thicker and thicker and I could see now how it came
in, for I could see it like smoke, or with the white energy of
boiling water, pouring in, not through the window, but through the
joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker, till it seemed as
if it became concentrated into a sort of pillar of cloud in the
room, through the top of which I could see the light of the gas
shining like a red eye. Things began to whirl through my brain just
as the cloudy column was now whirling in the room, and through it
all came the scriptural words "a pillar of cloud by day and of fire
by night." Was it indeed such spiritual guidance that was coming to
me in my sleep? But the pillar was composed of both the day and the
night guiding, for the fire was in the red eye, which at the
thought gat a new fascination for me, till, as I looked, the fire
divided, and seemed to shine on me through the fog like two red
eyes, such as Lucy told me of in her momentary mental wandering
when, on the cliff, the dying sunlight struck the windows of St.
Mary's Church. Suddenly the horror burst upon me that it was thus
that Jonathan had seen those awful women growing into reality
through the whirling mist in the moonlight, and in my dream I must
have fainted, for all became black darkness. The last conscious
effort which imagination made was to show me a livid white face
bending over me out of the mist.
I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's
reason if there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing
or Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make meor Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me
sleep, only that I fear to alarm them. Such a dream at the present
time would become woven into their fears for me. Tonight I shall
strive hard to sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall tomorrow night
get them to give me a dose of chloral, that cannot hurt me for
once, and it will give me a good night's sleep. Last night tired me
more than if I had not slept at all.
2 October 10 p. m.—Last night I slept, but did not dream. I must
have slept soundly, for I was not waked by Jonathan coming to bed,
but the sleep has not refreshed me, for today I feel terribly weak
and spiritless. I spent all yesterday trying to read, or lying down
dozing. In the afternon, Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me.Poor
man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and
bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much. I am crying when I
think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful.
Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. He and
the others were out till dinner time, and they all came in tired. I
did what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose that the effort
did me good, for I forgot how tired I was. After dinner they sent
me to bed, and all went off to smoke together, as they said, but I
knew that they wanted to tell each other of what had occurred to
each during the day. I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had
something important to communicate. I was not so sleepy as I should
have been, so before they went I asked Dr. Seward to give me a
little opiate of some kind, as I had not slept well the night
before. He very kindly made me up a sleeping draught, which he gave
to me, telling me that it would do me no harm, as it was very
mild … I have taken it, and am waiting for sleep, which still
keeps aloof. I hope I have not done wrong, for as sleep begins to
flirt with me, a new fear comes, that I may have been foolish in
thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I might want it. Here
comes sleep. Goodnight.1 October, evening.—I found Thomas Snelling in his house at
Bethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember
anything. The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had
opened to him had proved too much, and he had begun too early on
his expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed
a decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant of Smollet, who
of the two mates was the responsible person. So off I drove to
Walworth, and found Mr. Joseph Smollet at home and in his
shirtsleeves, taking a late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent,
intelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable type of workman,
and with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about the
incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog-eared notebook,
which he produced from some mysterious receptacle about the seat of
his trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries in thick,
half-obliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the boxes.
There were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from Carfax
and left at 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and another
six which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then the
Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London,
these places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he
might distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this
was done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to
two sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on the
northern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the
south. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out of
his diabolical scheme, let alone the City itself and the very heart
of fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to
Smollet, and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had
been taken from Carfax.
He replied, "Well guv'nor, you've treated me very 'an'some", I
had given him half a sovereign, "an I'll tell yer all I know. I
heard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are |
heard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are
an' 'Ounds, in Pincher's Alley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a
rare dusty job in a old 'ouse at Purfleet. There ain't a many such
jobs as this 'ere, an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam Bloxam could
tell ye summut."
I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that
if he could get me the address it would be worth another half
sovereign to him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood
up, saying that he was going to begin the search then and
there.
At the door he stopped, and said, "Look 'ere, guv'nor, there
ain't no sense in me a keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon, or I
mayn't, but anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much
tonight. Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can
give me a envelope with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it,
I'll find out where Sam is to be found and post it ye tonight. But
ye'd better be up arter 'im soon in the mornin', never mind the
booze the night afore."
This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a
penny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the
change. When she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped
it, and when Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the
address when found, I took my way to home. We're on the track
anyhow. I am tired tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast
asleep, and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she
had been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt it frets her to be kept
in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and the
others. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed
and worried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The
doctors were quite right to insist on her being kept out of this
dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden
of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with
her under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hard task,
after all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, andafter all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, and
has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we told her of
our decision.
2 October, evening—A long and trying and exciting day. By the
first post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper
enclosed, on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a
sprawling hand, "Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel
Street, Walworth. Arsk for the depite."
I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She
looked heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined
not to wake her, but that when I should return from this new
search, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she
would be happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest
her, than in being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr.
Seward for a moment, and told him where I was off to, promising to
come back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out
anything. I drove to Walworth and found, with some difficulty,
Potter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling misled me, as I asked for
Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when I had found
the court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's lodging
house.
When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he
shook his head, and said, "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a
person 'ere. I never 'eard of 'im in all my bloomin' days. Don't
believe there ain't nobody of that kind livin' 'ere or
anywheres."
I took out Smollet's letter, and as I read it it seemed to me
that the lesson of the spelling of the name of the court might
guide me. "What are you?" I asked.
"I'm the depity," he answered.
I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling
had again misled me. A half crown tip put the deputy's knowledge at
my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the
remains of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left
for his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could notfor his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not
tell me where the place of work was situated, but he had a vague
idea that it was some kind of a "new-fangled ware'us," and with
this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock
before I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I
got at a coffee shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.
One of them suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel
Street a new "cold storage" building, and as this suited the
condition of a "new-fangled ware'us," I at once drove to it. An
interview with a surly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of
whom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the track
of Bloxam. He was sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to
pay his days wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a
few questions on a private matter. He was a smart enough fellow,
though rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised to pay for
his information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had
made two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had
taken from this house to the latter nine great boxes, "main heavy
ones," with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose.
I asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in
Piccadilly, to which he replied, "Well, guv'nor, I forgits the
number, but it was only a few door from a big white church, or
somethink of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old 'ouse,
too, though nothin' to the dustiness of the 'ouse we tooked the
bloomin' boxes from."
"How did you get in if both houses were empty?"
"There was the old party what engaged me a waitin' in the 'ouse
at Purfleet. He 'elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the
dray. Curse me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an'
him a old feller, with a white moustache, one that thin you would
think he couldn't throw a shadder."
How this phrase thrilled through me!
"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of |
How this phrase thrilled through me!
"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of
tea, and me a puffin' an' a blowin' afore I could upend mine
anyhow, an' I'm no chicken, neither."
"How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?" I asked.
"He was there too. He must 'a started off and got there afore
me, for when I rung of the bell he kem an' opened the door 'isself
an' 'elped me carry the boxes into the 'all."
"The whole nine?" I asked.
"Yus, there was five in the first load an' four in the second.
It was main dry work, an' I don't so well remember 'ow I got
'ome."
I interrupted him, "Were the boxes left in the hall?"
"Yus, it was a big 'all, an' there was nothin' else in it."
I made one more attempt to further matters. "You didn't have any
key?"
"Never used no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door
'isself an' shut it again when I druv off. I don't remember the
last time, but that was the beer."
"And you can't remember the number of the house?"
"No, sir. But ye needn't have no difficulty about that. It's a
'igh 'un with a stone front with a bow on it, an' 'igh steps up to
the door. I know them steps, 'avin' 'ad to carry the boxes up with
three loafers what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give
them shillin's, an' they seein' they got so much, they wanted more.
But 'e took one of them by the shoulder and was like to throw 'im
down the steps, till the lot of them went away cussin'."
I thought that with this description I could find the house, so
having paid my friend for his information, I started off for
Piccadilly. I had gained a new painful experience. The Count could,
it was evident, handle the earth boxes himself. If so, time was
precious, for now that he had achieved a certain amount of
distribution, he could, by choosing his own time, complete the task
unobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cab, and walked
westward. Beyond the Junior Constitutional I came across the house
described and was satisfied that this was the next of the lairsdescribed and was satisfied that this was the next of the lairs
arranged by Dracula. The house looked as though it had been long
untenanted. The windows were encrusted with dust, and the shutters
were up. All the framework was black with time, and from the iron
the paint had mostly scaled away. It was evident that up to lately
there had been a large notice board in front of the balcony. It
had, however, been roughly torn away, the uprights which had
supported it still remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw
there were some loose boards, whose raw edges looked white. I would
have given a good deal to have been able to see the notice board
intact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to the ownership
of the house. I remembered my experience of the investigation and
purchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that I could find the
former owner there might be some means discovered of gaining access
to the house.
There was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly
side, and nothing could be done, so I went around to the back to
see if anything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were
active, the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked
one or two of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they
could tell me anything about the empty house. One of them said that
he heard it had lately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom.
He told me, however, that up to very lately there had been a notice
board of "For Sale" up, and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons, &
Candy the house agents could tell me something, as he thought he
remembered seeing the name of that firm on the board. I did not
wish to seem too eager, or to let my informant know or guess too
much, so thanking him in the usual manner,I strolled away. It was
now growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, so I did not
lose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell, Sons, &
Candy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office
in Sackville Street.Candy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office
in Sackville Street.
The gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but
uncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me that the
Piccadilly house, which throughout our interview he called a
"mansion," was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When I
asked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider, and
paused a few seconds before replying, "It is sold, sir."
"Pardon me," I said, with equal politeness, "but I have a
special reason for wishing to know who purchased it."
Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. "It
is sold, sir," was again his laconic reply.
"Surely," I said, "you do not mind letting me know so much."
"But I do mind," he answered. "The affairs of their clients are
absolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy."
This was manifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no
use arguing with him. I thought I had best meet him on his own
ground, so I said, "Your clients, sir, are happy in having so
resolute a guardian of their confidence. I am myself a professional
man."
Here I handed him my card. "In this instance I am not prompted
by curiosity, I act on the part of Lord Godalming, who wishes to
know something of the property which was, he understood, lately for
sale."
These words put a different complexion on affairs. He said, "I
would like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially
would I like to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small
matter of renting some chambers for him when he was the Honorable
Arthur Holmwood. If you will let me have his lordship's address I
will consult the House on the subject, and will, in any case,
communicate with his lordship by tonight's post. It will be a
pleasure if we can so far deviate from our rules as to give the
required information to his lordship."
I wanted to secure a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I
thanked him, gave the address at Dr. Seward's and came away. It was |
thanked him, gave the address at Dr. Seward's and came away. It was
now dark, and I was tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the
Aerated Bread Company and came down to Purfleet by the next
train.
I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale,
but she made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful. It wrung
my heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her and so
caused her inquietude. Thank God, this will be the last night of
her looking on at our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not
showing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise
resolution of keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow
more reconciled, or else the very subject seems to have become
repugnant to her, for when any accidental allusion is made she
actually shudders. I am glad we made our resolution in time, as
with such a feeling as this,our growing knowledge would be torture
to her.
I could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were
alone, so after dinner, followed by a little music to save
appearances even amongst ourselves, I took Mina to her room and
left her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate with me
than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me, but there
was much to be talked of and I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of
telling things has made no difference between us.
When I came down again I found the others all gathered round the
fire in the study. In the train I had written my diary so far, and
simply read it off to them as the best means of letting them get
abreast of my own information.
When I had finished Van Helsing said, "This has been a great
day's work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of the
missing boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is
near the end. But if there be some missing, we must search until we
find them. Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretch
to his real death."
We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke, "Say!to his real death."
We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke, "Say!
How are we going to get into that house?"
"We got into the other,"answered Lord Godalming quickly.
"But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we
had night and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty
different thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or
night. I confess I don't see how we are going to get in unless that
agency duck can find us a key of some sort."
Lord Godalming's brows contracted, and he stood up and walked
about the room. By-and-by he stopped and said, turning from one to
another of us, "Quincey's head is level. This burglary business is
getting serious. We got off once all right, but we have now a rare
job on hand. Unless we can find the Count's key basket."
As nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be
at least advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from
Mitchell's, we decided not to take any active step before breakfast
time. For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in
its various lights and bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing
this diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to
bed …
Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular.
Her forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she
thinks even in her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look
so haggard as she did this morning. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all
this. She will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am
sleepy!
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
1 October.—I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change
so rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as
they always mean something more than his own well-being, they form
a more than interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him
after his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man
commanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny,
subjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of meresubjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of mere
earth, he was in the clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses
and wants of us poor mortals.
I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I
asked him, "What about the flies these times?"
He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way, such a smile as
would have become the face of Malvolio, as he answered me, "The
fly, my dear sir, has one striking feature. It's wings are typical
of the aerial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did
well when they typified the soul as a butterfly!"
I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I
said quickly, "Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?"
His madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled look spread over
his face as, shaking his head with a decision which I had but
seldom seen in him.
He said, "Oh, no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all I want."
Here he brightened up. "I am pretty indifferent about it at
present. Life is all right. I have all I want. You must get a new
patient, doctor, if you wish to study zoophagy!"
This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on. "Then you command
life. You are a god, I suppose?"
He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. "Oh no! Far be
it from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am
not even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may
state my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things
purely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied
spiritually!"
This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch's
appositeness, so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that
by so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic. "And
why with Enoch?"
"Because he walked with God."
I could not see the analogy, but did not like to admit it, so I
harked back to what he had denied. "So you don't care about life
and you don't want souls. Why not?" I put my question quickly and
somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him. |
somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him.
The effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciously relapsed
into his old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually
fawned upon me as he replied. "I don't want any souls, indeed,
indeed! I don't. I couldn't use them if I had them. They would be
no manner of use to me. I couldn't eat them or … "
He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over his
face, like a wind sweep on the surface of the water.
"And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you've got
all you require, and you know that you will never want, that is
all. I have friends, good friends, like you, Dr. Seward."This was
said with a leer of inexpressible cunning. "I know that I shall
never lack the means of life!"
I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some
antagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of
such as he, a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the
present it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came
away.
Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have
come without special reason, but just at present I am so interested
in him that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to
have anything to help pass the time. Harker is out, following up
clues, and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in
my study poring over the record prepared by the Harkers. He seems
to think that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light up
on some clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without
cause. I would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I
thought that after his last repulse he might not care to go again.
There was also another reason. Renfield might not speak so freely
before a third person as when he and I were alone.
I found him sitting in the middle of the floor on his stool, a
pose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his
part. When I came in, he said at once, as though the question had
been waiting on his lips. "What about souls?"been waiting on his lips. "What about souls?"
It was evident then that my surmise had been correct.
Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic.
I determined to have the matter out.
"What about them yourself?" I asked.
He did not reply for a moment but looked all around him, and up
and down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an
answer.
"I don't want any souls!" He said in a feeble, apologetic way.
The matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use
it, to "be cruel only to be kind." So I said, "You like life, and
you want life?"
"Oh yes! But that is all right. You needn't worry about
that!"
"But," I asked,"how are we to get the life without getting the
soul also?"
This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up, "A nice time
you'll have some time when you're flying out here, with the souls
of thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and
twittering and moaning all around you. You've got their lives, you
know, and you must put up with their souls!"
Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he put his
fingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly
just as a small boy does when his face is being soaped. There was
something pathetic in it that touched me. It also gave me a lesson,
for it seemed that before me was a child, only a child, though the
features were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was
evident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,
and knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly
foreign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well
as I could and go with him
The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,
speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed
ears,"Would you like some sugar to get your flies around
again?"
He seemed to wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a
laugh he replied, "Not much! Flies are poor things, after all!"
After a pause he added, "But I don't want their souls buzzing round
me, all the same."After a pause he added, "But I don't want their souls buzzing round
me, all the same."
"Or spiders?" I went on.
"Blow spiders! What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything
in them to eat or … " He stopped suddenly as though reminded
of a forbidden topic.
"So, so!" I thought to myself, "this is the second time he has
suddenly stopped at the word `drink'. What does it mean?"
Renfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he
hurried on, as though to distract my attention from it, "I don't
take any stock at all in such matters. `Rats and mice and such
small deer,' as Shakespeare has it, `chicken feed of the larder'
they might be called. I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might
as well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to
try to interest me about the less carnivora, when I know of what is
before me."
"I see," I said."You want big things that you can make your
teeth meet in? How would you like to breakfast on an elephant?"
"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking?" He was getting too
wide awake, so I thought I would press him hard.
"I wonder," I said reflectively, "what an elephant's soul is
like!"
The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his
high-horse and became a child again.
"I don't want an elephant's soul, or any soul at all!" he said.
For a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his
feet, with his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral
excitement. "To hell with you and your souls!" he shouted. "Why do
you plague me about souls? Haven't I got enough to worry, and pain,
to distract me already, without thinking of souls?"
He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another
homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle.
The instant, however, that I did so he became calm, and said
apologetically, "Forgive me, Doctor. I forgot myself. You do not
need any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be
irritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I |
irritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I
am working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray
do not put me in a strait waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot
think freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will
understand!"
He had evidently self-control, so when the attendants came I
told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go.
When the door was closed he said with considerable dignity and
sweetness, "Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me.
Believe me that I am very, very grateful to you!"
I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so I came away.
There is certainly something to ponder over in this man's state.
Several points seem to make what the American interviewer calls "a
story," if one could only get them in proper order. Here they
are:
Will not mention "drinking."
Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of
anything.
Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future.
Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads
being haunted by their souls.
Logically all these things point one way! He has assurance of
some kind that he will acquire some higher life.
He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Then it is a
human life he looks to!
And the assurance … ?
Merciful God! The Count has been to him, and there is some new
scheme of terror afoot!
Later.—I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my
suspicion. He grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over
for a while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came
to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used
to do in the time which now seems so long ago.
When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his
sugar as of old. The flies, lethargic with the autumn, were
beginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the
subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He
went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present.went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present.
He had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebook. We
had to come away as ignorant as we went in.
His is a curious case indeed. We must watch him tonight.
LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY TO LORD GODALMING.
"1 October. "My Lord,
"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg,
with regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker
on your behalf, to supply the following information concerning the
sale and purchase of No.347,Piccadilly. The original vendors are
the executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The
purchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the
purchase himself paying the purchase money in notes `over the
counter,' if your Lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an
expression. Beyond this we know nothing whatever of him.
"We are, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's humble servants,
"MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
2 October.—I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told
him to make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from
Renfield's room, and gave him instructions that if there should be
anything strange he was to call me. After dinner, when we had all
gathered round the fire in the study, Mrs. Harker having gone to
bed, we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker
was the only one who had any result, and we are in great hopes that
his clue may be an important one.
Before going to bed I went round to the patient's room and
looked in through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly,
his heart rose and fell with regular respiration.
This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after
midnight he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat
loudly. I asked him if that was all. He replied that it was all he
heard. There was something about his manner, so suspicious that I
asked him point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but
admitted to having "dozed" for a while. It is too bad that menadmitted to having "dozed" for a while. It is too bad that men
cannot be trusted unless they are watched.
Today Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey
are looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to
have horses always in readiness, for when we get the information
which we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilize all
the imported earth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catch
the Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van
Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on
ancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which
their followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for
witch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.
I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to
sanity in strait waistcoats.
Later.—We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track,
and our work of tomorrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder
if Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so
followed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of
the monster may be carried to him some subtle way. If we could only
get some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my
argument with him today and his resumption of fly-catching, it
might afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a
spell … Is he? That wild yell seemed to come from his
room …
The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that
Renfield had somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell,
and when he went to him found him lying on his face on the floor,
all covered with blood. I must go at once … |
3 October.—Let me put down with exactness all that happened, as
well as I can remember, since last I made an entry. Not a detail
that I can recall must be forgotten. In all calmness I must
proceed.
When I came to Renfield's room I found him lying on the floor on
his left side in a glittering pool of blood. When I went to move
him, it became at once apparent that he had received some terrible
injuries. There seemed none of the unity of purpose between the
parts of the body which marks even lethargic sanity. As the face
was exposed I could see that it was horribly bruised, as though it
had been beaten against the floor. Indeed it was from the face
wounds that the pool of blood originated.
The attendant who was kneeling beside the body said to me as we
turned him over, "I think, sir, his back is broken. See, both his
right arm and leg and the whole side of his face are paralysed."
How such a thing could have happened puzzled the attendant beyond
measure. He seemed quite bewildered, and his brows were gathered in
as he said, "I can't understand the two things. He could mark his
face like that by beating his own head on the floor. I saw a young
woman do it once at the Eversfield Asylum before anyone could lay
hands on her. And I suppose he might have broken his neck by
falling out of bed, if he got in an awkward kink. But for the life
of me I can't imagine how the two things occurred. If his back was
broke, he couldn't beat his head, and if his face was like that
before the fall out of bed, there would be marks of it."
I said to him, "Go to Dr. Van Helsing, and ask him to kindly
come here at once. I want him without an instant's delay."
The man ran off, and within a few minutes the Professor, in his
dressing gown and slippers, appeared. When he saw Renfield on the
ground, he looked keenly at him a moment, and then turned to me. I
think he recognized my thought in my eyes, for he said very
quietly, manifestly for the ears of the attendant, "Ah, a sad
accident! He will need very careful watching, and much attention. Iaccident! He will need very careful watching, and much attention. I
shall stay with you myself, but I shall first dress myself. If you
will remain I shall in a few minutes join you."
The patient was now breathing stertorously and it was easy to
see that he had suffered some terrible injury.
Van Helsing returned with extraordinary celerity, bearing with
him a surgical case. He had evidently been thinking and had his
mind made up, for almost before he looked at the patient, he
whispered to me, "Send the attendant away. We must be alone with
him when he becomes conscious, after the operation."
I said, "I think that will do now, Simmons. We have done all
that we can at present. You had better go your round, and Dr. Van
Helsing will operate. Let me know instantly if there be anything
unusual anywhere."
The man withdrew, and we went into a strict examination of the
patient. The wounds of the face were superficial. The real injury
was a depressed fracture of the skull, extending right up through
the motor area.
The Professor thought a moment and said,"We must reduce the
pressure and get back to normal conditions, as far as can be. The
rapidity of the suffusion shows the terrible nature of his injury.
The whole motor area seems affected. The suffusion of the brain
will increase quickly, so we must trephine at once or it may be too
late."
As he was speaking there was a soft tapping at the door. I went
over and opened it and found in the corridor without, Arthur and
Quincey in pajamas and slippers, the former spoke, "I heard your
man call up Dr. Van Helsing and tell him of an accident. So I woke
Quincey or rather called for him as he was not asleep. Things are
moving too quickly and too strangely for sound sleep for any of us
these times. I've been thinking that tomorrow night will not see
things as they have been. We'll have to look back, and forward a
little more than we have done. May we come in?"
I nodded, and held the door open till they had entered, then II nodded, and held the door open till they had entered, then I
closed it again. When Quincey saw the attitude and state of the
patient, and noted the horrible pool on the floor, he said softly,
"My God! What has happened to him? Poor, poor devil!"
I told him briefly, and added that we expected he would recover
consciousness after the operation, for a short time, at all events.
He went at once and sat down on the edge of the bed, with Godalming
beside him. We all watched in patience.
"We shall wait," said Van Helsing, "just long enough to fix the
best spot for trephining, so that we may most quickly and perfectly
remove the blood clot, for it is evident that the haemorrhage is
increasing."
The minutes during which we waited passed with fearful slowness.
I had a horrible sinking in my heart, and from Van Helsing's face I
gathered that he felt some fear or apprehension as to what was to
come. I dreaded the words Renfield might speak. I was positively
afraid to think. But the conviction of what was coming was on me,
as I have read of men who have heard the death watch. The poor
man's breathing came in uncertain gasps.Each instant he seemed as
though he would open his eyes and speak, but then would follow a
prolonged stertorous breath, and he would relapse into a more fixed
insensibility. Inured as I was to sick beds and death, this
suspense grew and grew upon me. I could almost hear the beating of
my own heart, and the blood surging through my temples sounded like
blows from a hammer. The silence finally became agonizing. I looked
at my companions, one after another, and saw from their flushed
faces and damp brows that they were enduring equal torture. There
was a nervous suspense over us all, as though overhead some dread
bell would peal out powerfully when we should least expect it.
At last there came a time when it was evident that the patient
was sinking fast. He might die at any moment. I looked up at the
Professor and caught his eyes fixed on mine. His face was sternly |
Professor and caught his eyes fixed on mine. His face was sternly
set as he spoke, "There is no time to lose. His words may be worth
many lives. I have been thinking so, as I stood here. It may be
there is a soul at stake! We shall operate just above the ear."
Without another word he made the operation. For a few moments
the breathing continued to be stertorous. Then there came a breath
so prolonged that it seemed as though it would tear open his chest.
Suddenly his eyes opened, and became fixed in a wild, helpless
stare. This was continued for a few moments, then it was softened
into a glad surprise, and from his lips came a sigh of relief. He
moved convulsively, and as he did so, said, "I'll be quiet, Doctor.
Tell them to take off the strait waistcoat. I have had a terrible
dream, and it has left me so weak that I cannot move. What's wrong
with my face? It feels all swollen, and it smarts dreadfully."
He tried to turn his head, but even with the effort his eyes
seemed to grow glassy again so I gently put it back. Then Van
Helsing said in a quiet grave tone, "Tell us your dream, Mr.
Renfield."
As he heard the voice his face brightened, through its
mutilation, and he said, "That is Dr. Van Helsing. How good it is
of you to be here. Give me some water, my lips are dry, and I shall
try to tell you. I dreamed" …
He stopped and seemed fainting. I called quietly to Quincey,
"The brandy, it is in my study, quick!" He flew and returned with a
glass, the decanter of brandy and a carafe of water. We moistened
the parched lips, and the patient quickly revived.
It seemed, however, that his poor injured brain had been working
in the interval, for when he was quite conscious, he looked at me
piercingly with an agonized confusion which I shall never forget,
and said, "I must not deceive myself. It was no dream, but all a
grim reality." Then his eyes roved round the room. As they caught
sight of the two figures sitting patiently on the edge of the bed
he went on, "If I were not sure already, I would know from
them."he went on, "If I were not sure already, I would know from
them."
For an instant his eyes closed, not with pain or sleep but
voluntarily, as though he were bringing all his faculties to bear.
When he opened them he said, hurriedly, and with more energy than
he had yet displayed, "Quick, Doctor, quick, I am dying! I feel
that I have but a few minutes, and then I must go back to death, or
worse! Wet my lips with brandy again. I have something that I must
say before I die. Or before my poor crushed brain dies anyhow.
Thank you! It was that night after you left me, when I implored you
to let me go away. I couldn't speak then, for I felt my tongue was
tied. But I was as sane then, except in that way, as I am now. I
was in an agony of despair for a long time after you left me, it
seemed hours. Then there came a sudden peace to me. My brain seemed
to become cool again, and I realized where I was. I heard the dogs
bark behind our house, but not where He was!"
As he spoke, Van Helsing's eyes never blinked, but his hand came
out and met mine and gripped it hard. He did not, however, betray
himself. He nodded slightly and said, "Go on," in a low voice.
Renfield proceeded. "He came up to the window in the mist, as I
had seen him often before, but he was solid then, not a ghost, and
his eyes were fierce like a man's when angry. He was laughing with
his red mouth, the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when
he turned to look back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs
were barking. I wouldn't ask him to come in at first, though I knew
he wanted to, just as he had wanted all along. Then he began
promising me things, not in words but by doing them."
He was interrupted by a word from the Professor, "How?"
"By making them happen. Just as he used to send in the flies
when the sun was shining. Great big fat ones with steel and
sapphire on their wings. And big moths, in the night, with skull
and cross-bones on their backs."
Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously,and cross-bones on their backs."
Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously,
"The Acherontia Atropos of the Sphinges, what you call the
`Death's-head Moth'?"
The patient went on without stopping, "Then he began to
whisper.`Rats, rats, rats! Hundreds, thousands, millions of them,
and every one a life. And dogs to eat them, and cats too. All
lives! All red blood, with years of life in it, and not merely
buzzing flies!' I laughed at him, for I wanted to see what he could
do. Then the dogs howled, away beyond the dark trees in His house.
He beckoned me to the window. I got up and looked out, and He
raised his hands,and seemed to call out without using any words. A
dark mass spread over the grass, coming on like the shape of a
flame of fire. And then He moved the mist to the right and left,
and I could see that there were thousands of rats with their eyes
blazing red, like His only smaller. He held up his hand, and they
all stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, `All these lives
will I give you, ay, and many more and greater, through countless
ages, if you will fall down and worship me!' And then a red cloud,
like the color of blood, seemed to close over my eyes, and before I
knew what I was doing, I found myself opening the sash and saying
to Him, `Come in, Lord and Master!' The rats were all gone, but He
slid into the room through the sash, though it was only open an
inch wide, just as the Moon herself has often come in through the
tiniest crack and has stood before me in all her size and
splendor."
His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lips with the brandy
again, and he continued, but it seemed as though his memory had
gone on working in the interval for his story was further advanced.
I was about to call him back to the point, but Van Helsing
whispered to me, "Let him go on. Do not interrupt him. He cannot go
back, and maybe could not proceed at all if once he lost the thread
of his thought."
He proceeded, "All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not |
of his thought."
He proceeded, "All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not
send me anything, not even a blowfly, and when the moon got up I
was pretty angry with him. When he did slide in through the window,
though it was shut, and did not even knock, I got mad with him. He
sneered at me, and his white face looked out of the mist with his
red eyes gleaming, and he went on as though he owned the whole
place, and I was no one. He didn't even smell the same as he went
by me. I couldn't hold him. I thought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker
had come into the room."
The two men sitting on the bed stood up and came over, standing
behind him so that he could not see them, but where they could hear
better. They were both silent, but the Professor started and
quivered. His face, however, grew grimmer and sterner still.
Renfield went on without noticing, "When Mrs. Harker came in to see
me this afternoon she wasn't the same. It was like tea after the
teapot has been watered." Here we all moved, but no one said a
word.
He went on, "I didn't know that she was here till she spoke, and
she didn't look the same. I don't care for the pale people. I like
them with lots of blood in them, and hers all seemed to have run
out. I didn't think of it at the time, but when she went away I
began to think, and it made me mad to know that He had been taking
the life out of her." I could feel that the rest quivered, as I
did. But we remained otherwise still. "So when He came tonight I
was ready for Him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I grabbed it
tight. I had heard that madmen have unnatural strength. And as I
knew I was a madman, at times anyhow, I resolved to use my power.
Ay, and He felt it too, for He had to come out of the mist to
struggle with me. I held tight, and I thought I was going to win,
for I didn't mean Him to take any more of her life, till I saw His
eyes. They burned into me, and my strength became like water. He
slipped through it, and when I tried to cling to Him, He raised meslipped through it, and when I tried to cling to Him, He raised me
up and flung me down. There was a red cloud before me, and a noise
like thunder,and the mist seemed to steal away under the door."
His voice was becoming fainter and his breath more stertorous.
Van Helsing stood up instinctively.
"We know the worst now," he said. "He is here, and we know his
purpose. It may not be too late. Let us be armed, the same as we
were the other night, but lose no time, there is not an instant to
spare."
There was no need to put our fear, nay our conviction, into
words, we shared them in common. We all hurried and took from our
rooms the same things that we had when we entered the Count's
house. The Professor had his ready, and as we met in the corridor
he pointed to them significantly as he said, "They never leave me,
and they shall not till this unhappy business is over. Be wise
also, my friends. It is no common enemy that we deal with Alas!
Alas! That dear Madam Mina should suffer!" He stopped, his voice
was breaking, and I do not know if rage or terror predominated in
my own heart.
Outside the Harkers' door we paused. Art and Quincey held back,
and the latter said, "Should we disturb her?"
"We must," said Van Helsing grimly. "If the door be locked, I
shall break it in."
"May it not frighten her terribly? It is unusual to break into a
lady's room!"
Van Helsing said solemnly, "You are always right. But this is
life and death. All chambers are alike to the doctor. And even were
they not they are all as one to me tonight. Friend John, when I
turn the handle, if the door does not open, do you put your
shoulder down and shove. And you too, my friends. Now!"
He turned the handle as he spoke, but the door did not yield. We
threw ourselves against it. With a crash it burst open, and we
almost fell headlong into the room. The Professor did actually
fall, and I saw across him as he gathered himself up from hands and
knees. What I saw appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles onknees. What I saw appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on
the back of my neck, and my heart seemed to stand still.
The moonlight was so bright that through the thick yellow blind
the room was light enough to see. On the bed beside the window lay
Jonathan Harker, his face flushed and breathing heavily as though
in a stupor. Kneeling on the near edge of the bed facing outwards
was the white-clad figure of his wife. By her side stood a tall,
thin man, clad in black. His face was turned from us, but the
instant we saw we all recognized the Count, in every way, even to
the scar on his forehead. With his left hand he held both Mrs.
Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension.
His right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her
face down on his bosom. Her white night-dress was smeared with
blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare chest which
was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a
terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a
saucer of milk to compel it to drink. As we burst into the room,
the Count turned his face, and the hellish look that I had heard
described seemed to leap into it. His eyes flamed red with devilish
passion. The great nostrils of the white aquiline nose opened wide
and quivered at the edge, and the white sharp teeth, behind the
full lips of the blood dripping mouth, clamped together like those
of a wild beast. With a wrench, which threw his victim back upon
the bed as though hurled from a height, he turned and sprang at us.
But by this time the Professor had gained his feet, and was holding
towards him the envelope which contained the Sacred Wafer. The
Count suddenly stopped, just as poor Lucy had done outside the
tomb, and cowered back. Further and further back he cowered, as we,
lifting our crucifixes, advanced. The moonlight suddenly failed, as
a great black cloud sailed across the sky. And when the gaslight
sprang up under Quincey's match, we saw nothing but a faint vapor. |
sprang up under Quincey's match, we saw nothing but a faint vapor.
This, as we looked, trailed under the door, which with the recoil
from its bursting open, had swung back to its old position. Van
Helsing, Art, and I moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time
had drawn her breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so
ear-piercing, so despairing that it seems to me now that it will
ring in my ears till my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her
helpless attitude and disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallor
which was accentuated by the blood which smeared her lips and
cheeks and chin. From her throat trickled a thin stream of blood.
Her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her
poor crushed hands, which bore on their whiteness the red mark of
the Count's terrible grip, and from behind them came a low desolate
wail which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression
of an endless grief. Van Helsing stepped forward and drew the
coverlet gently over her body, whilst Art, after looking at her
face for an instant despairingly, ran out of the room.
Van Helsing whispered to me, "Jonathan is in a stupor such as we
know the Vampire can produce. We can do nothing with poor Madam
Mina for a few moments till she recovers herself. I must wake
him!"
He dipped the end of a towel in cold water and with it began to
flick him on the face, his wife all the while holding her face
between her hands and sobbing in a way that was heart breaking to
hear. I raised the blind, and looked out of the window. There was
much moonshine, and as I looked I could see Quincey Morris run
across the lawn and hide himself in the shadow of a great yew tree.
It puzzled me to think why he was doing this. But at the instant I
heard Harker's quick exclamation as he woke to partial
consciousness, and turned to the bed. On his face, as there might
well be, was a look of wild amazement. He seemed dazed for a few
seconds, and then full consciousness seemed to burst upon him all
at once, and he started up.seconds, and then full consciousness seemed to burst upon him all
at once, and he started up.
His wife was aroused by the quick movement, and turned to him
with her arms stretched out, as though to embrace him. Instantly,
however, she drew them in again, and putting her elbows together,
held her hands before her face,and shuddered till the bed beneath
her shook.
"In God's name what does this mean?" Harker cried out. "Dr.
Seward, Dr. Van Helsing, what is it? What has happened? What is
wrong? Mina, dear what is it? What does that blood mean? My God, my
God! Has it come to this!" And, raising himself to his knees, he
beat his hands wildly together."Good God help us! Help her! Oh,
help her!"
With a quick movement he jumped from bed, and began to pull on
his clothes, all the man in him awake at the need for instant
exertion. "What has happened? Tell me all about it!" he cried
without pausing. "Dr. Van Helsing you love Mina, I know. Oh, do
something to save her. It cannot have gone too far yet. Guard her
while I look for him!"
His wife, through her terror and horror and distress, saw some
sure danger to him. Instantly forgetting her own grief, she seized
hold of him and cried out.
"No! No! Jonathan, you must not leave me. I have suffered enough
tonight, God knows, without the dread of his harming you. You must
stay with me. Stay with these friends who will watch over you!" Her
expression became frantic as she spoke. And, he yielding to her,
she pulled him down sitting on the bedside, and clung to him
fiercely.
Van Helsing and I tried to calm them both. The Professor held up
his golden crucifix, and said with wonderful calmness, "Do not
fear, my dear. We are here, and whilst this is close to you no foul
thing can approach. You are safe for tonight, and we must be calm
and take counsel together."
She shuddered and was silent, holding down her head on her
husband's breast. When she raised it, his white nightrobe was
stained with blood where her lips had touched, and where the thinstained with blood where her lips had touched, and where the thin
open wound in the neck had sent forth drops. The instant she saw it
she drew back, with a low wail, and whispered, amidst choking
sobs.
"Unclean, unclean! I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh,
that it should be that it is I who am now his worst enemy, and whom
he may have most cause to fear."
To this he spoke out resolutely, "Nonsense, Mina. It is a shame
to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you. And I shall
not hear it from you. May God judge me by my deserts, and punish me
with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or
will of mine anything ever come between us!"
He put out his arms and folded her to his breast. And for a
while she lay there sobbing. He looked at us over her bowed head,
with eyes that blinked damply above his quivering nostrils. His
mouth was set as steel.
After a while her sobs became less frequent and more faint, and
then he said to me, speaking with a studied calmness which I felt
tried his nervous power to the utmost.
"And now, Dr. Seward, tell me all about it. Too well I know the
broad fact. Tell me all that has been."
I told him exactly what had happened and he listened with
seeming impassiveness, but his nostrils twitched and his eyes
blazed as I told how the ruthless hands of the Count had held his
wife in that terrible and horrid position, with her mouth to the
open wound in his breast. It interested me, even at that moment, to
see that whilst the face of white set passion worked convulsively
over the bowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the
ruffled hair. Just as I had finished, Quincey and Godalming knocked
at the door. They entered in obedience to our summons. Van Helsing
looked at me questioningly. I understood him to mean if we were to
take advantage of their coming to divert if possible the thoughts
of the unhappy husband and wife from each other and from
themselves. So on nodding acquiescence to him he asked them what |
themselves. So on nodding acquiescence to him he asked them what
they had seen or done. To which Lord Godalming answered.
"I could not see him anywhere in the passage, or in any of our
rooms. I looked in the study but, though he had been there, he had
gone. He had, however … " He stopped suddenly, looking at the
poor drooping figure on the bed.
Van Helsing said gravely, "Go on, friend Arthur. We want here no
more concealments. Our hope now is in knowing all. Tell
freely!"
So Art went on, "He had been there, and though it could only
have been for a few seconds, he made rare hay of the place. All the
manuscript had been burned, and the blue flames were flickering
amongst the white ashes. The cylinders of your phonograph too were
thrown on the fire, and the wax had helped the flames."
Here I interrupted. "Thank God there is the other copy in the
safe!"
His face lit for a moment, but fell again as he went on. "I ran
downstairs then, but could see no sign of him. I looked into
Renfield's room, but there was no trace there except … " Again
he paused.
"Go on," said Harker hoarsely. So he bowed his head and
moistening his lips with his tongue, added, "except that the poor
fellow is dead."
Mrs. Harker raised her head, looking from one to the other of us
she said solemnly, "God's will be done!"
I could not but feel that Art was keeping back something. But,
as I took it that it was with a purpose, I said nothing.
Van Helsing turned to Morris and asked,"And you, friend Quincey,
have you any to tell?"
"A little," he answered. "It may be much eventually, but at
present I can't say. I thought it well to know if possible where
the Count would go when he left the house. I did not see him, but I
saw a bat rise from Renfield's window, and flap westward. I
expected to see him in some shape go back to Carfax, but he
evidently sought some other lair. He will not be back tonight, for
the sky is reddening in the east, and the dawn is close. We must
work tomorrow!"
He said the latter words through his shut teeth. For a space ofwork tomorrow!"
He said the latter words through his shut teeth. For a space of
perhaps a couple of minutes there was silence, and I could fancy
that I could hear the sound of our hearts beating.
Then Van Helsing said, placing his hand tenderly on Mrs.
Harker's head, "And now, Madam Mina, poor dear, dear, Madam Mina,
tell us exactly what happened. God knows that I do not want that
you be pained, but it is need that we know all. For now more than
ever has all work to be done quick and sharp, and in deadly
earnest. The day is close to us that must end all, if it may be so,
and now is the chance that we may live and learn."
The poor dear lady shivered, and I could see the tension of her
nerves as she clasped her husband closer to her and bent her head
lower and lower still on his breast. Then she raised her head
proudly, and held out one hand to Van Helsing who took it in his,
and after stooping and kissing it reverently, held it fast. The
other hand was locked in that of her husband, who held his other
arm thrown round her protectingly. After a pause in which she was
evidently ordering her thoughts, she began.
"I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindly given me,
but for a long time it did not act. I seemed to become more
wakeful, and myriads of horrible fancies began to crowd in upon my
mind. All of them connected with death, and vampires, with blood,
and pain, and trouble." Her husband involuntarily groaned as she
turned to him and said lovingly, "Do not fret, dear. You must be
brave and strong, and help me through the horrible task. If you
only knew what an effort it is to me to tell of this fearful thing
at all, you would understand how much I need your help. Well, I saw
I must try to help the medicine to its work with my will, if it was
to do me any good, so I resolutely set myself to sleep. Sure enough
sleep must soon have come to me, for I remember no more. Jonathan
coming in had not waked me, for he lay by my side when next I
remember. There was in the room the same thin white mist that I hadremember. There was in the room the same thin white mist that I had
before noticed. But I forget now if you know of this. You will find
it in my diary which I shall show you later. I felt the same vague
terror which had come to me before and the same sense of some
presence. I turned to wake Jonathan, but found that he slept so
soundly that it seemed as if it was he who had taken the sleeping
draught, and not I. I tried, but I could not wake him. This caused
me a great fear, and I looked around terrified. Then indeed, my
heart sank within me. Beside the bed, as if he had stepped out of
the mist, or rather as if the mist had turned into his figure, for
it had entirely disappeared, stood a tall, thin man, all in black.
I knew him at once from the description of the others. The waxen
face, the high aquiline nose, on which the light fell in a thin
white line, the parted red lips, with the sharp white teeth showing
between, and the red eyes that I had seemed to see in the sunset on
the windows of St. Mary's Church at Witby. I knew, too, the red
scar on his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. For an instant
my heart stood still, and I would have screamed out, only that I
was paralyzed. In the pause he spoke in a sort of keen, cutting
whisper, pointing as he spoke to Jonathan.
"`Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his
brains out before your very eyes.' I was appalled and was too
bewildered to do or say anything. With a mocking smile, he placed
one hand upon my shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat
with the other, saying as he did so, `First, a little refreshment
to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet. It is not the
first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my
thirst!' I was bewildered, and strangely enough, I did not want to
hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that such
is, when his touch is on his victim. And oh, my God, my God, pity
me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat!" Her husband groaned |
me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat!" Her husband groaned
again. She clasped his hand harder, and looked at him pityingly, as
if he were the injured one, and went on.
"I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half swoon. How
long this horrible thing lasted I know not, but it seemed that a
long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering
mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood!"The remembrance
seemed for a while to overpower her, and she drooped and would have
sunk down but for her husband's sustaining arm. With a great effort
she recovered herself and went on.
"Then he spoke to me mockingly, `And so you, like the others,
would play your brains against mine. You would help these men to
hunt me and frustrate me in my design! You know now, and they know
in part already, and will know in full before long, what it is to
cross my path. They should have kept their energies for use closer
to home. Whilst they played wits against me, against me who
commanded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought for them,
hundreds of years before they were born, I was countermining them.
And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh,
blood of my blood, kin of my kin, my bountiful wine-press for a
while, and shall be later on my companion and my helper. You shall
be avenged in turn, for not one of them but shall minister to your
needs. But as yet you are to be punished for what you have done.
You have aided in thwarting me. Now you shall come to my call. When
my brain says "Come!" to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my
bidding. And to that end this!'
With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp
nails opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt
out, he took my hands in one of his, holding them tight, and with
the other seized my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, so that
I must either suffocate or swallow some to the … Oh, my God!
My God! What have I done? What have I done to deserve such a fate,My God! What have I done? What have I done to deserve such a fate,
I who have tried to walk in meekness and righteousness all my days.
God pity me! Look down on a poor soul in worse than mortal peril.
And in mercy pity those to whom she is dear!" Then she began to rub
her lips as though to cleanse them from pollution.
As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky began to
quicken, and everything became more and more clear. Harker was
still and quiet. But over his face, as the awful narrative went on,
came a grey look which deepened and deepened in the morning light,
till when the first red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the
flesh stood darkly out against the whitening hair.
We have arranged that one of us is to stay within call of the
unhappy pair till we can meet together and arrange about taking
action.
Of this I am sure. The sun rises today on no more miserable
house in all the great round of its daily course.3 October.—As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary.
It is now six o'clock, and we are to meet in the study in half an
hour and take something to eat, for Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward
are agreed that if we do not eat we cannot work our best. Our best
will be, God knows, required today. I must keep writing at every
chance, for I dare not stop to think. All, big and little, must go
down. Perhaps at the end the little things may teach us most. The
teaching, big or little, could not have landed Mina or me anywhere
worse than we are today. However, we must trust and hope. Poor Mina
told me just now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks, that
it is in trouble and trial that our faith is tested. That we must
keep on trusting, and that God will aid us up to the end. The end!
Oh my God! What end? … To work! To work!
When Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward had come back from seeing
poor Renfield, we went gravely into what was to be done. First, Dr.
Seward told us that when he and Dr. Van Helsing had gone down to
the room below they had found Renfield lying on the floor, all in a
heap. His face was all bruised and crushed in, and the bones of the
neck were broken.
Dr. Seward asked the attendant who was on duty in the passage if
he had heard anything. He said that he had been sitting down, he
confessed to half dozing, when he heard loud voices in the room,
and then Renfield had called out loudly several times, "God! God!
God!" After that there was a sound of falling, and when he entered
the room he found him lying on the floor, face down, just as the
doctors had seen him. Van Helsing asked if he had heard "voices" or
"a voice," and he said he could not say. That at first it had
seemed to him as if there were two, but as there was no one in the
room it could have been only one. He could swear to it, if
required, that the word "God" was spoken by the patient.
Dr. Seward said to us, when we were alone, that he did not wish
to go into the matter. The question of an inquest had to beto go into the matter. The question of an inquest had to be
considered, and it would never do to put forward the truth, as no
one would believe it. As it was, he thought that on the attendant's
evidence he could give a certificate of death by misadventure in
falling from bed. In case the coroner should demand it, there would
be a formal inquest, necessarily to the same result.
When the question began to be discussed as to what should be our
next step, the very first thing we decided was that Mina should be
in full confidence. That nothing of any sort, no matter how
painful, should be kept from her. She herself agreed as to its
wisdom, and it was pitiful to see her so brave and yet so
sorrowful, and in such a depth of despair.
"There must be no concealment," she said. "Alas! We have had too
much already. And besides there is nothing in all the world that
can give me more pain than I have already endured, than I suffer
now! Whatever may happen, it must be of new hope or of new courage
to me!"
Van Helsing was looking at her fixedly as she spoke, and said,
suddenly but quietly, "But dear Madam Mina, are you not afraid. Not
for yourself, but for others from yourself, after what has
happened?"
Her face grew set in its lines, but her eyes shone with the
devotion of a martyr as she answered, "Ah no! For my mind is made
up!"
"To what?" he asked gently, whilst we were all very still, for
each in our own way we had a sort of vague idea of what she
meant.
Her answer came with direct simplicity, as though she was simply
stating a fact, "Because if I find in myself, and I shall watch
keenly for it, a sign of harm to any that I love, I shall die!"
"You would not kill yourself?" he asked, hoarsely.
"I would. If there were no friend who loved me, who would save
me such a pain, and so desperate an effort!" She looked at him
meaningly as she spoke.
He was sitting down, but now he rose and came close to her and
put his hand on her head as he said solemnly. "My child, there is |
put his hand on her head as he said solemnly. "My child, there is
such an one if it were for your good. For myself I could hold it in
my account with God to find such an euthanasia for you, even at
this moment if it were best. Nay, were it safe! But my child …
"
For a moment he seemed choked, and a great sob rose in his
throat. He gulped it down and went on, "There are here some who
would stand between you and death. You must not die. You must not
die by any hand, but least of all your own. Until the other, who
has fouled your sweet life, is true dead you must not die. For if
he is still with the quick Undead, your death would make you even
as he is. No, you must live! You must struggle and strive to live,
though death would seem a boon unspeakable. You must fight Death
himself, though he come to you in pain or in joy. By the day, or
the night, in safety or in peril! On your living soul I charge you
that you do not die. Nay, nor think of death, till this great evil
be past."
The poor dear grew white as death, and shook and shivered, as I
have seen a quicksand shake and shiver at the incoming of the tide.
We were all silent. We could do nothing. At length she grew more
calm and turning to him said sweetly, but oh so sorrowfully, as she
held out her hand, "I promise you, my dear friend, that if God will
let me live, I shall strive to do so. Till, if it may be in His
good time, this horror may have passed away from me."
She was so good and brave that we all felt that our hearts were
strengthened to work and endure for her, and we began to discuss
what we were to do. I told her that she was to have all the papers
in the safe, and all the papers or diaries and phonographs we might
hereafter use, and was to keep the record as she had done before.
She was pleased with the prospect of anything to do, if "pleased"
could be used in connection with so grim an interest.
As usual Van Helsing had thought ahead of everyone else, and was
prepared with an exact ordering of our work.prepared with an exact ordering of our work.
"It is perhaps well," he said, "that at our meeting after our
visit to Carfax we decided not to do anything with the earth boxes
that lay there. Had we done so, the Count must have guessed our
purpose, and would doubtless have taken measures in advance to
frustrate such an effort with regard to the others. But now he does
not know our intentions. Nay, more, in all probability, he does not
know that such a power exists to us as can sterilize his lairs, so
that he cannot use them as of old.
"We are now so much further advanced in our knowledge as to
their disposition that, when we have examined the house in
Piccadilly, we may track the very last of them. Today then, is
ours, and in it rests our hope. The sun that rose on our sorrow
this morning guards us in its course. Until it sets tonight, that
monster must retain whatever form he now has. He is confined within
the limitations of his earthly envelope. He cannot melt into thin
air nor disappear through cracks or chinks or crannies. If he go
through a doorway, he must open the door like a mortal. And so we
have this day to hunt out all his lairs and sterilize them. So we
shall, if we have not yet catch him and destroy him, drive him to
bay in some place where the catching and the destroying shall be,
in time, sure."
Here I started up for I could not contain myself at the thought
that the minutes and seconds so preciously laden with Mina's life
and happiness were flying from us, since whilst we talked action
was impossible. But Van Helsing held up his hand warningly.
"Nay, friend Jonathan," he said, "in this, the quickest way home
is the longest way, so your proverb say. We shall all act and act
with desperate quick, when the time has come. But think, in all
probable the key of the situation is in that house in Piccadilly.
The Count may have many houses which he has bought. Of them he will
have deeds of purchase, keys and other things. He will have paper
that he write on. He will have his book of cheques. There are manythat he write on. He will have his book of cheques. There are many
belongings that he must have somewhere. Why not in this place so
central, so quiet, where he come and go by the front or the back at
all hours, when in the very vast of the traffic there is none to
notice. We shall go there and search that house. And when we learn
what it holds, then we do what our friend Arthur call, in his
phrases of hunt `stop the earths' and so we run down our old fox,
so? Is it not?"
"Then let us come at once," I cried, "we are wasting the
precious, precious time!"
The Professor did not move, but simply said, "And how are we to
get into that house in Piccadilly?"
"Any way!" I cried. "We shall break in if need be."
"And your police? Where will they be, and what will they
say?"
I was staggered, but I knew that if he wished to delay he had a
good reason for it. So I said, as quietly as I could, "Don't wait
more than need be. You know, I am sure, what torture I am in."
"Ah, my child, that I do. And indeed there is no wish of me to
add to your anguish. But just think, what can we do, until all the
world be at movement. Then will come our time. I have thought and
thought, and it seems to me that the simplest way is the best of
all. Now we wish to get into the house, but we have no key. Is it
not so?"I nodded.
"Now suppose that you were, in truth, the owner of that house,
and could not still get in. And think there was to you no
conscience of the housebreaker, what would you do?"
"I should get a respectable locksmith, and set him to work to
pick the lock for me."
"And your police, they would interfere, would they not?"
"Oh no! Not if they knew the man was properly employed."
"Then," he looked at me as keenly as he spoke, "all that is in
doubt is the conscience of the employer, and the belief of your
policemen as to whether or not that employer has a good conscience
or a bad one. Your police must indeed be zealous men and clever, oh
so clever, in reading the heart, that they trouble themselves in |
so clever, in reading the heart, that they trouble themselves in
such matter. No, no, my friend Jonathan, you go take the lock off a
hundred empty houses in this your London, or of any city in the
world, and if you do it as such things are rightly done, and at the
time such things are rightly done, no one will interfere. I have
read of a gentleman who owned a so fine house in London, and when
he went for months of summer to Switzerland and lock up his house,
some burglar come and broke window at back and got in. Then he went
and made open the shutters in front and walk out and in through the
door, before the very eyes of the police. Then he have an auction
in that house, and advertise it, and put up big notice. And when
the day come he sell off by a great auctioneer all the goods of
that other man who own them. Then he go to a builder, and he sell
him that house, making an agreement that he pull it down and take
all away within a certain time. And your police and other authority
help him all they can. And when that owner come back from his
holiday in Switzerland he find only an empty hole where his house
had been. This was all done en regle, and in our work we shall be
en regle too. We shall not go so early that the policemen who have
then little to think of, shall deem it strange. But we shall go
after ten o'clock, when there are many about, and such things would
be done were we indeed owners of the house."
I could not but see how right he was and the terrible despair of
Mina's face became relaxed in thought. There was hope in such good
counsel.
Van Helsing went on, "When once within that house we may find
more clues. At any rate some of us can remain there whilst the rest
find the other places where there be more earth boxes, at
Bermondsey and Mile End."
Lord Godalming stood up. "I can be of some use here," he said.
"I shall wire to my people to have horses and carriages where they
will be most convenient."
"Look here, old fellow," said Morris, "it is a capital idea towill be most convenient."
"Look here, old fellow," said Morris, "it is a capital idea to
have all ready in case we want to go horse backing, but don't you
think that one of your snappy carriages with its heraldic
adornments in a byway of Walworth or Mile End would attract too
much attention for our purpose? It seems to me that we ought to
take cabs when we go south or east. And even leave them somewhere
near the neighborhood we are going to."
"Friend Quincey is right!" said the Professor. "His head is what
you call in plane with the horizon. It is a difficult thing that we
go to do, and we do not want no peoples to watch us if so it
may."
Mina took a growing interest in everything and I was rejoiced to
see that the exigency of affairs was helping her to forget for a
time the terrible experience of the night. She was very, very pale,
almost ghastly, and so thin that her lips were drawn away, showing
her teeth in somewhat of prominence. I did not mention this last,
lest it should give her needless pain, but it made my blood run
cold in my veins to think of what had occurred with poor Lucy when
the Count had sucked her blood. As yet there was no sign of the
teeth growing sharper, but the time as yet was short, and there was
time for fear.
When we came to the discussion of the sequence of our efforts
and of the disposition of our forces, there were new sources of
doubt. It was finally agreed that before starting for Piccadilly we
should destroy the Count's lair close at hand. In case he should
find it out too soon, we should thus be still ahead of him in our
work of destruction. And his presence in his purely material shape,
and at his weakest, might give us some new clue.
As to the disposal of forces, it was suggested by the Professor
that, after our visit to Carfax, we should all enter the house in
Piccadilly. That the two doctors and I should remain there, whilst
Lord Godalming and Quincey found the lairs at Walworth and Mile End
and destroyed them. It was possible, if not likely, the Professorand destroyed them. It was possible, if not likely, the Professor
urged, that the Count might appear in Piccadilly during the day,
and that if so we might be able to cope with him then and there. At
any rate, we might be able to follow him in force. To this plan I
strenuously objected, and so far as my going was concerned, for I
said that I intended to stay and protect Mina. I thought that my
mind was made up on the subject, but Mina would not listen to my
objection. She said that there might be some law matter in which I
could be useful. That amongst the Count's papers might be some clue
which I could understand out of my experience in Transylvania. And
that, as it was, all the strength we could muster was required to
cope with the Count's extraordinary power. I had to give in, for
Mina's resolution was fixed. She said that it was the last hope for
her that we should all work together.
"As for me," she said, "I have no fear. Things have been as bad
as they can be. And whatever may happen must have in it some
element of hope or comfort. Go, my husband! God can, if He wishes
it, guard me as well alone as with any one present."
So I started up crying out, "Then in God's name let us come at
once, for we are losing time. The Count may come to Piccadilly
earlier than we think."
"Not so!" said Van Helsing, holding up his hand.
"But why?" I asked.
"Do you forget," he said, with actually a smile, "that last
night he banqueted heavily, and will sleep late?"
Did I forget! Shall I ever … can I ever! Can any of us ever
forget that terrible scene! Mina struggled hard to keep her brave
countenance, but the pain overmastered her and she put her hands
before her face, and shuddered whilst she moaned. Van Helsing had
not intended to recall her frightful experience. He had simply lost
sight of her and her part in the affair in his intellectual
effort.
When it struck him what he said, he was horrified at his
thoughtlessness and tried to comfort her.
"Oh, Madam Mina," he said,"dear, dear, Madam Mina, alas! That I |
"Oh, Madam Mina," he said,"dear, dear, Madam Mina, alas! That I
of all who so reverence you should have said anything so forgetful.
These stupid old lips of mine and this stupid old head do not
deserve so, but you will forget it, will you not?" He bent low
beside her as he spoke.
She took his hand, and looking at him through her tears, said
hoarsely, "No, I shall not forget, for it is well that I remember.
And with it I have so much in memory of you that is sweet, that I
take it all together. Now, you must all be going soon. Breakfast is
ready, and we must all eat that we may be strong."
Breakfast was a strange meal to us all. We tried to be cheerful
and encourage each other, and Mina was the brightest and most
cheerful of us. When it was over, Van Helsing stood up and said,
"Now, my dear friends, we go forth to our terrible enterprise. Are
we all armed, as we were on that night when first we visited our
enemy's lair. Armed against ghostly as well as carnal attack?"
We all assured him.
"Then it is well. Now, Madam Mina, you are in any case quite
safe here until the sunset. And before then we shall return …
if … We shall return! But before we go let me see you armed
against personal attack. I have myself, since you came down,
prepared your chamber by the placing of things of which we know, so
that He may not enter. Now let me guard yourself. On your forehead
I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father, the
Son, and …
There was a fearful scream which almost froze our hearts to
hear. As he had placed the Wafer on Mina's forehead, it had seared
it … had burned into the flesh as though it had been a piece
of whitehot metal. My poor darling's brain had told her the
significance of the fact as quickly as her nerves received the pain
of it, and the two so overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature
had its voice in that dreadful scream.
But the words to her thought came quickly. The echo of the
scream had not ceased to ring on the air when there came thescream had not ceased to ring on the air when there came the
reaction, and she sank on her knees on the floor in an agony of
abasement. Pulling her beautiful hair over her face, as the leper
of old his mantle, she wailed out.
"Unclean! Unclean! Even the Almighty shuns my polluted flesh! I
must bear this mark of shame upon my forehead until the Judgement
Day."
They all paused. I had thrown myself beside her in an agony of
helpless grief, and putting my arms around held her tight. For a
few minutes our sorrowful hearts beat together, whilst the friends
around us turned away their eyes that ran tears silently. Then Van
Helsing turned and said gravely. So gravely that I could not help
feeling that he was in some way inspired, and was stating things
outside himself.
"It may be that you may have to bear that mark till God himself
see fit, as He most surely shall, on the Judgement Day, to redress
all wrongs of the earth and of His children that He has placed
thereon. And oh, Madam Mina, my dear, my dear, may we who love you
be there to see, when that red scar, the sign of God's knowledge of
what has been, shall pass away, and leave your forehead as pure as
the heart we know. For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass
away when God sees right to lift the burden that is hard upon us.
Till then we bear our Cross, as His Son did in obedience to His
Will. It may be that we are chosen instruments of His good
pleasure, and that we ascend to His bidding as that other through
stripes and shame. Through tears and blood. Through doubts and
fear, and all that makes the difference between God and man."
There was hope in his words, and comfort. And they made for
resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simultaneously we each
took one of the old man's hands and bent over and kissed it. Then
without a word we all knelt down together, and all holding hands,
swore to be true to each other. We men pledged ourselves to raise
the veil of sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way,the veil of sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way,
we loved. And we prayed for help and guidance in the terrible task
which lay before us. It was then time to start. So I said farewell
to Mina, a parting which neither of us shall forget to our dying
day, and we set out.
To one thing I have made up my mind. If we find out that Mina
must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that
unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old
times one vampire meant many. Just as their hideous bodies could
only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting
sergeant for their ghastly ranks.
We entered Carfax without trouble and found all things the same
as on the first occasion. It was hard to believe that amongst so
prosaic surroundings of neglect and dust and decay there was any
ground for such fear as already we knew. Had not our minds been
made up, and had there not been terrible memories to spur us on, we
could hardly have proceeded with our task. We found no papers, or
any sign of use in the house. And in the old chapel the great boxes
looked just as we had seen them last.
Dr. Van Helsing said to us solemnly as we stood before him, "And
now, my friends, we have a duty here to do. We must sterilize this
earth, so sacred of holy memories, that he has brought from a far
distant land for such fell use. He has chosen this earth because it
has been holy. Thus we defeat him with his own weapon, for we make
it more holy still. It was sanctified to such use of man, now we
sanctify it to God."
As he spoke he took from his bag a screwdriver and a wrench, and
very soon the top of one of the cases was thrown open. The earth
smelled musty and close, but we did not somehow seem to mind, for
our attention was concentrated on the Professor. Taking from his
box a piece of the Scared Wafer he laid it reverently on the earth,
and then shutting down the lid began to screw it home, we aiding
him as he worked.
One by one we treated in the same way each of the great boxes, |
him as he worked.
One by one we treated in the same way each of the great boxes,
and left them as we had found them to all appearance. But in each
was a portion of the Host. When we closed the door behind us, the
Professor said solemnly, "So much is already done. It may be that
with all the others we can be so successful, then the sunset of
this evening may shine of Madam Mina's forehead all white as ivory
and with no stain!"
As we passed across the lawn on our way to the station to catch
our train we could see the front of the asylum. I looked eagerly,
and in the window of my own room saw Mina. I waved my hand to her,
and nodded to tell that our work there was successfully
accomplished. She nodded in reply to show that she understood. The
last I saw, she was waving her hand in farewell. It was with a
heavy heart that we sought the station and just caught the train,
which was steaming in as we reached the platform. I have written
this in the train.
Piccadilly, 12:30 o'clock.—Just before we reached Fenchurch
Street Lord Godalming said to me, "Quincey and I will find a
locksmith. You had better not come with us in case there should be
any difficulty. For under the circumstances it wouldn't seem so bad
for us to break into an empty house. But you are a solicitor and
the Incorporated Law Society might tell you that you should have
known better."
I demurred as to my not sharing any danger even of odium, but he
went on, "Besides, it will attract less attention if there are not
too many of us. My title will make it all right with the locksmith,
and with any policeman that may come along. You had better go with
Jack and the Professor and stay in the Green Park. Somewhere in
sight of the house, and when you see the door opened and the smith
has gone away, do you all come across. We shall be on the lookout
for you, and shall let you in."
"The advice is good!" said Van Helsing, so we said no more.
Godalming and Morris hurried off in a cab, we following in another.Godalming and Morris hurried off in a cab, we following in another.
At the corner of Arlington Street our contingent got out and
strolled into the Green Park. My heart beat as I saw the house on
which so much of our hope was centered, looming up grim and silent
in its deserted condition amongst its more lively and
spruce-looking neighbors. We sat down on a bench within good view ,
and began to smoke cigars so as to attract as little attention as
possible. The minutes seemed to pass with leaden feet as we waited
for the coming of the others.
At length we saw a four-wheeler drive up. Out of it, in
leisurely fashion, got Lord Godalming and Morris. And down from the
box descended a thick-set working man with his rush-woven basket of
tools. Morris paid the cabman, who touched his hat and drove away.
Together the two ascended the steps, and Lord Godalming pointed out
what he wanted done. The workman took off his coat leisurely and
hung it on one of the spikes of the rail, saying something to a
policeman who just then sauntered along. The policeman nodded
acquiescence, and the man kneeling down placed his bag beside him.
After searching through it, he took out a selection of tools which
he proceeded to lay beside him in orderly fashion. Then he stood
up, looked in the keyhole, blew into it, and turning to his
employers, made some remark. Lord Godalming smiled, and the man
lifted a good sized bunch of keys. Selecting one of them, he began
to probe the lock, as if feeling his way with it. After fumbling
about for a bit he tried a second, and then a third. All at once
the door opened under a slight push from him, and he and the two
others entered the hall. We sat still. My own cigar burnt
furiously, but Van Helsing's went cold altogether. We waited
patiently as we saw the workman come out and bring his bag. Then he
held the door partly open, steadying it with his knees, whilst he
fitted a key to the lock. This he finally handed to Lord Godalming,
who took out his purse and gave him something. The man touched hiswho took out his purse and gave him something. The man touched his
hat, took his bag, put on his coat and departed. Not a soul took
the slightest notice of the whole transaction.
When the man had fairly gone, we three crossed the street and
knocked at the door. It was immediately opened by Quincey Morris,
beside whom stood Lord Godalming lighting a cigar.
"The place smells so vilely," said the latter as we came in. It
did indeed smell vilely. Like the old chapel at Carfax. And with
our previous experience it was plain to us that the Count had been
using the place pretty freely. We moved to explore the house, all
keeping together in case of attack, for we knew we had a strong and
wily enemy to deal with, and as yet we did not know whether the
Count might not be in the house.
In the dining room, which lay at the back of the hall, we found
eight boxes of earth. Eight boxes only out of the nine which we
sought! Our work was not over, and would never be until we should
have found the missing box.
First we opened the shutters of the window which looked out
across a narrow stone flagged yard at the blank face of a stable,
pointed to look like the front of a miniature house. There were no
windows in it, so we were not afraid of being overlooked. We did
not lose any time in examining the chests. With the tools which we
had brought with us we opened them, one by one, and treated them as
we had treated those others in the old chapel. It was evident to us
that the Count was not at present in the house, and we proceeded to
search for any of his effects.
After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, from basement
to attic, we came to the conclusion that the dining room contained
any effects which might belong to the Count. And so we proceeded to
minutely examine them. They lay in a sort of orderly disorder on
the great dining room table.
There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great
bundle, deeds of the purchase of the houses at Mile End and
Bermondsey, notepaper, envelopes, and pens and ink. All wereBermondsey, notepaper, envelopes, and pens and ink. All were
covered up in thin wrapping paper to keep them from the dust. There
were also a clothes brush, a brush and comb, and a jug and basin.
The latter containing dirty water which was reddened as if with
blood. Last of all was a little heap of keys of all sorts and
sizes, probably those belonging to the other houses.
When we had examined this last find, Lord Godalming and Quincey
Morris taking accurate notes of the various addresses of the houses
in the East and the South, took with them the keys in a great
bunch, and set out to destroy the boxes in these places. The rest
of us are, with what patience we can, waiting their return, or the
coming of the Count. |
3 October.—The time seemed teribly long whilst we were waiting
for the coming of Godalming and Quincey Morris. The Professor tried
to keep our minds active by using them all the time. I could see
his beneficent purpose, by the side glances which he threw from
time to time at Harker. The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery
that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happy-looking
man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark
brown hair. Today he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair
matches well with the hollow burning eyes and griefwritten lines of
his face. His energy is still intact. In fact, he is like a living
flame. This may yet be his salvation, for if all go well, it will
tide him over the despairing period. He will then, in a kind of
way, wake again to the realities of life. Poor fellow, I thought my
own trouble was bad enough, but his … !
The Professor knows this well enough, and is doing his best to
keep his mind active. What he has been saying was, under the
circumstances, of absorbing interest. So well as I can remember,
here it is:
"I have studied, over and over again since they came into my
hands, all the papers relating to this monster, and the more I have
studied, the greater seems the necessity to utterly stamp him out.
All through there are signs of his advance. Not only of his power,
but of his knowledge of it. As I learned from the researches of my
friend Arminius of Buda-Pesth, he was in life a most wonderful man.
Soldier, statesman, and alchemist. Which latter was the highest
development of the science knowledge of his time. He had a mighty
brain, a learning beyond compare, and a heart that knew no fear and
no remorse. He dared even to attend the Scholomance, and there was
no branch of knowledge of his time that he did not essay.
"Well, in him the brain powers survived the physical death.
Though it would seem that memory was not all complete. In some
faculties of mind he has been, and is, only a child. But he isfaculties of mind he has been, and is, only a child. But he is
growing, and some things that were childish at the first are now of
man's stature. He is experimenting, and doing it well. And if it
had not been that we have crossed his path he would be yet, he may
be yet if we fail, the father or furtherer of a new order of
beings, whose road must lead through Death, not Life."
Harker groaned and said, "And this is all arrayed against my
darling! But how is he experimenting? The knowledge may help us to
defeat him!"
"He has all along, since his coming, been trying his power,
slowly but surely. That big child-brain of his is working. Well for
us, it is as yet, a child-brain. For had he dared, at the first, to
attempt certain things he would long ago have been beyond our
power. However, he means to succeed, and a man who has centuries
before him can afford to wait and to go slow. Festina lente may
well be his motto."
"I fail to understand," said Harker wearily. "Oh, do be more
plain to me! Perhaps grief and trouble are dulling my brain."
The Professor laid his hand tenderly on his shoulder as he
spoke, "Ah, my child, I will be plain. Do you not see how, of late,
this monster has been creeping into knowledge experimentally. How
he has been making use of the zoophagous patient to effect his
entry into friend John's home. For your Vampire, though in all
afterwards he can come when and how he will, must at the first make
entry only when asked thereto by an inmate. But these are not his
most important experiments. Do we not see how at the first all
these so great boxes were moved by others. He knew not then but
that must be so. But all the time that so great child-brain of his
was growing, and he began to consider whether he might not himself
move the box. So he began to help. And then, when he found that
this be all right, he try to move them all alone. And so he
progress, and he scatter these graves of him. And none but he know
where they are hidden.
"He may have intend to bury them deep in the ground. So thatwhere they are hidden.
"He may have intend to bury them deep in the ground. So that
only he use them in the night, or at such time as he can change his
form, they do him equal well, and none may know these are his
hiding place! But, my child, do not despair, this knowledge came to
him just too late! Already all of his lairs but one be sterilize as
for him. And before the sunset this shall be so. Then he have no
place where he can move and hide. I delayed this morning that so we
might be sure. Is there not more at stake for us than for him? Then
why not be more careful than him? By my clock it is one hour and
already, if all be well, friend Arthur and Quincey are on their way
to us. Today is our day, and we must go sure, if slow, and lose no
chance. See! There are five of us when those absent ones
return."
Whilst we were speaking we were startled by a knock at the hall
door, the double postman's knock of the telegraph boy. We all moved
out to the hall with one impulse, and Van Helsing, holding up his
hand to us to keep silence, stepped to the door and opened it. The
boy handed in a dispatch. The Professor closed the door again, and
after looking at the direction, opened it and read aloud.
"Look out for D. He has just now, 12:45, come from Carfax
hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seems to be going the
round and may want to see you: Mina."
There was a pause, broken by Jonathan Harker's voice, "Now, God
be thanked, we shall soon meet!"
Van Helsing turned to him quickly and said, "God will act in His
own way and time. Do not fear, and do not rejoice as yet. For what
we wish for at the moment may be our own undoings."
"I care for nothing now," he answered hotly, "except to wipe out
this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my soul to do
it!"
"Oh, hush, hush, my child!" said Van Helsing. "God does not
purchase souls in this wise, and the Devil, though he may purchase,
does not keep faith. But God is merciful and just, and knows your
pain and your devotion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her |
pain and your devotion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her
pain would be doubled, did she but hear your wild words. Do not
fear any of us, we are all devoted to this cause, and today shall
see the end. The time is coming for action. Today this Vampire is
limit to the powers of man, and till sunset he may not change. It
will take him time to arrive here, see it is twenty minutes past
one, and there are yet some times before he can hither come, be he
never so quick. What we must hope for is that my Lord Arthur and
Quincey arrive first."
About half an hour after we had received Mrs. Harker's telegram,
there came a quiet, resolute knock at the hall door. It was just an
ordinary knock, such as is given hourly by thousands of gentlemen,
but it made the Professor's heart and mine beat loudly. We looked
at each other, and together moved out into the hall. We each held
ready to use our various armaments, the spiritual in the left hand,
the mortal in the right. Van Helsing pulled back the latch, and
holding the door half open, stood back, having both hands ready for
action. The gladness of our hearts must have shown upon our faces
when on the step, close to the door, we saw Lord Godalming and
Quincey Morris. They came quickly in and closed the door behind
them, the former saying, as they moved along the hall.
"It is all right. We found both places. Six boxes in each and we
destroyed them all."
"Destroyed?" asked the Professor.
"For him!" We were silent for a minute, and then Quincey said,
"There's nothing to do but to wait here. If, however, he doesn't
turn up by five o'clock, we must start off. For it won't do to
leave Mrs. Harker alone after sunset."
"He will be here before long now,' said Van Helsing, who had
been consulting his pocketbook. "Nota bene, in Madam's telegram he
went south from Carfax. That means he went to cross the river, and
he could only do so at slack of tide, which should be something
before one o'clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He isbefore one o'clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He is
as yet only suspicious, and he went from Carfax first to the place
where he would suspect interference least. You must have been at
Bermondsey only a short time before him. That he is not here
already shows that he went to Mile End next. This took him some
time, for he would then have to be carried over the river in some
way. Believe me, my friends, we shall not have long to wait now. We
should have ready some plan of attack, so that we may throw away no
chance. Hush, there is no time now. Have all your arms! Be ready!"
He held up a warning hand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key
softly inserted in the lock of the hall door.
I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the way in which
a dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunting parties and
adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had
always been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I
had been accustomed to obey him implicitly. Now, the old habit
seemed to be renewed instinctively. With a swift glance around the
room, he at once laid out our plan of attack, and without speaking
a word, with a gesture, placed us each in position. Van Helsing,
Harker, and I were just behind the door, so that when it was opened
the Professor could guard it whilst we two stepped between the
incomer and the door. Godalming behind and Quincey in front stood
just out of sight ready to move in front of the window. We waited
in a suspense that made the seconds pass with nightmare slowness.
The slow, careful steps came along the hall. The Count was
evidently prepared for some surprise, at least he feared it.
Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room. Winning a
way past us before any of us could raise a hand to stay him. There
was something so pantherlike in the movement, something so unhuman,
that it seemed to sober us all from the shock of his coming. The
first to act was Harker, who with a quick movement, threw himselffirst to act was Harker, who with a quick movement, threw himself
before the door leading into the room in the front of the house. As
the Count saw us, a horrible sort of snarl passed over his face,
showing the eyeteeth long and pointed. But the evil smile as
quickly passed into a cold stare of lion-like disdain. His
expression again changed as, with a single impulse, we all advanced
upon him. It was a pity that we had not some better organized plan
of attack, for even at the moment I wondered what we were to do. I
did not myself know whether our lethal weapons would avail us
anything.
Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his
great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The blow
was a powerful one. Only the diabolical quickness of the Count's
leap back saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had
shorn through his coat, making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank
notes and a stream of gold fell out. The expression of the Count's
face was so hellish, that for a moment I feared for Harker, though
I saw him throw the terrible knife aloft again for another stroke.
Instinctively I moved forward with a protective impulse, holding
the Crucifix and Wafer in my left hand. I felt a mighty power fly
along my arm, and it was without surprise that I saw the monster
cower back before a similar movement made spontaneously by each one
of us. It would be impossible to describe the expression of hate
and baffled malignity, of anger and hellish rage, which came over
the Count's face. His waxen hue became greenish-yellow by the
contrast of his burning eyes, and the red scar on the forehead
showed on the pallid skin like a palpitating wound. The next
instant, with a sinuous dive he swept under Harker's arm, ere his
blow could fall, and grasping a handful of the money from the
floor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the window. Amid
the crash and glitter of the falling glass, he tumbled into the
flagged area below. Through the sound of the shivering glass I |
flagged area below. Through the sound of the shivering glass I
could hear the "ting" of the gold, as some of the sovereigns fell
on the flagging.
We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He,
rushing up the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the
stable door. There he turned and spoke to us.
"You think to baffle me, you with your pale faces all in a row,
like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you!
You think you have left me without a place to rest, but I have
more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and
time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already.
And through them you and others shall yet be mine, my creatures, to
do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!"
With a contemptuous sneer, he passed quickly through the door,
and we heard the rusty bolt creak as he fastened it behind him. A
door beyond opened and shut. The first of us to speak was the
Professor. Realizing the difficulty of following him through the
stable, we moved toward the hall.
"We have learnt something … much! Notwithstanding his brave
words, he fears us. He fears time, he fears want! For if not, why
he hurry so? His very tone betray him, or my ears deceive. Why take
that money? You follow quick. You are hunters of the wild beast,
and understand it so. For me, I make sure that nothing here may be
of use to him, if so that he returns."
As he spoke he put the money remaining in his pocket, took the
title deeds in the bundle as Harker had left them, and swept the
remaining things into the open fireplace, where he set fire to them
with a match.
Godalming and Morris had rushed out into the yard, and Harker
had lowered himself from the window to follow the Count. He had,
however, bolted the stable door, and by the time they had forced it
open there was no sign of him. Van Helsing and I tried to make
inquiry at the back of the house. But the mews was deserted and no
one had seen him depart.inquiry at the back of the house. But the mews was deserted and no
one had seen him depart.
It was now late in the afternoon, and sunset was not far off. We
had to recognize that our game was up. With heavy hearts we agreed
with the Professor when he said, "Let us go back to Madam Mina.
Poor, poor dear Madam Mina. All we can do just now is done, and we
can there, at least, protect her. But we need not despair. There is
but one more earth box, and we must try to find it. When that is
done all may yet be well."
I could see that he spoke as bravely as he could to comfort
Harker. The poor fellow was quite broken down, now and again he
gave a low groan which he could not suppress. He was thinking of
his wife.
With sad hearts we came back to my house, where we found Mrs.
Harker waiting us, with an appearance of cheerfulness which did
honor to her bravery and unselfishness. When she saw our faces, her
own became as pale as death. For a second or two her eyes were
closed as if she were in secret prayer.
And then she said cheerfully, "I can never thank you all enough.
Oh, my poor darling!"
As she spoke, she took her husband's grey head in her hands and
kissed it.
"Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet be well,
dear! God will protect us if He so will it in His good intent." The
poor fellow groaned. There was no place for words in his sublime
misery.
We had a sort of perfunctory supper together, and I think it
cheered us all up somewhat. It was, perhaps, the mere animal heat
of food to hungry people, for none of us had eaten anything since
breakfast, or the sense of companionship may have helped us, but
anyhow we were all less miserable, and saw the morrow as not
altogether without hope.
True to our promise, we told Mrs. Harker everything which had
passed. And although she grew snowy white at times when danger had
seemed to threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion
to her was manifested she listened bravely and with calmness. When
we came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count sowe came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so
recklessly, she clung to her husband's arm, and held it tight as
though her clinging could protect him from any harm that might
come. She said nothing, however, till the narration was all
done,and matters had been brought up to the present time.
Then without letting go her husband's hand she stood up amongst
us and spoke. Oh, that I could give any idea of the scene. Of that
sweet, sweet, good, good woman in all the radiant beauty of her
youth and animation, with the red scar on her forehead, of which
she was conscious, and which we saw with grinding of our teeth,
remembering whence and how it came. Her loving kindness against our
grim hate. Her tender faith against all our fears and doubting. And
we, knowing that so far as symbols went, she with all her goodness
and purity and faith, was outcast from God.
"Jonathan," she said, and the word sounded like music on her
lips it was so full of love and tenderness, "Jonathan dear, and you
all my true, true friends, I want you to bear something in mind
through all this dreadful time. I know that you must fight. That
you must destroy even as you destroyed the false Lucy so that the
true Lucy might live hereafter. But it is not a work of hate. That
poor soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of
all. Just think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyed in
his worser part that his better part may have spiritual
immortality. You must be pitiful to him, too,though it may not hold
your hands from his destruction."
As she spoke I could see her husband's face darken and draw
together, as though the passion in him were shriveling his being to
its core. Instinctively the clasp on his wife's hand grew closer,
till his knuckles looked white. She did not flinch from the pain
which I knew she must have suffered, but looked at him with eyes
that were more appealing than ever.
As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almost tearing
his hand from hers as he spoke. |
As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almost tearing
his hand from hers as he spoke.
"May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy
that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond it I
could send his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do
it!"
"Oh, hush! Oh, hush in the name of the good God. Don't say such
things, Jonathan, my husband, or you will crush me with fear and
horror. Just think, my dear … I have been thinking all this
long, long day of it … that … perhaps … some
day … I, too, may need such pity, and that some other like
you, and with equal cause for anger, may deny it to me! Oh, my
husband! My husband, indeed I would have spared you such a thought
had there been another way. But I pray that God may not have
treasured your wild words, except as the heart-broken wail of a
very loving and sorely stricken man. Oh, God, let these poor white
hairs go in evidence of what he has suffered, who all his life has
done no wrong, and on whom so many sorrows have come."
We men were all in tears now. There was no resisting them, and
we wept openly. She wept, too, to see that her sweeter counsels had
prevailed. Her husband flung himself on his knees beside her, and
putting his arms round her, hid his face in the folds of her dress.
Van Helsing beckoned to us and we stole out of the room, leaving
the two loving hearts alone with their God.
Before they retired the Professor fixed up the room against any
coming of the Vampire, and assured Mrs. Harker that she might rest
in peace. She tried to school herself to the belief, and manifestly
for her husband's sake, tried to seem content. It was a brave
struggle, and was, I think and believe, not without its reward. Van
Helsing had placed at hand a bell which either of them was to sound
in case of any emergency. When they had retired, Quincey,
Godalming, and I arranged that we should sit up, dividing the night
between us, and watch over the safety of the poor stricken lady.between us, and watch over the safety of the poor stricken lady.
The first watch falls to Quincey, so the rest of us shall be off to
bed as soon as we can.
Godalming has already turned in, for his is the second watch.
Now that my work is done I, too, shall go to bed.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
3-4 October, close to midnight.—I thought yesterday would never
end. There was over me a yearning for sleep, in some sort of blind
belief that to wake would be to find things changed, and that any
change must now be for the better. Before we parted, we discussed
what our next step was to be, but we could arrive at no result. All
we knew was that one earth box remained, and that the Count alone
knew where it was. If he chooses to lie hidden, he may baffle us
for years. And in the meantime, the thought is too horrible, I dare
not think of it even now. This I know, that if ever there was a
woman who was all perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling.
I loved her a thousand times more for her sweet pity of last night,
a pity that made my own hate of the monster seem despicable. Surely
God will not permit the world to be the poorer by the loss of such
a creature. This is hope to me. We are all drifting reefwards now,
and faith is our only anchor. Thank God! Mina is sleeping, and
sleeping without dreams. I fear what her dreams might be like, with
such terrible memories to ground them in. She has not been so calm,
within my seeing, since the sunset. Then, for a while, there came
over her face a repose which was like spring after the blasts of
March. I thought at the time that it was the softness of the red
sunset on her face, but somehow now I think it has a deeper
meaning. I am not sleepy myself, though I am weary … weary to
death. However, I must try to sleep. For there is tomorrow to think
of, and there is no rest for me until …
Later—I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened by Mina, who
was sitting up in bed, with a startled look on her face. I could
see easily, for we did not leave the room in darkness. She hadsee easily, for we did not leave the room in darkness. She had
placed a warning hand over my mouth, and now she whispered in my
ear, "Hush! There is someone in the corridor!" I got up softly, and
crossing the room, gently opened the door.
Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris, wide
awake. He raised a warning hand for silence as he whispered to me,
"Hush! Go back to bed. It is all right. One of us will be here all
night. We don't mean to take any chances!"
His look and gesture forbade discussion, so I came back and told
Mina. She sighed and positively a shadow of a smile stole over her
poor, pale face as she put her arms round me and said softly, "Oh,
thank God for good brave men!" With a sigh she sank back again to
sleep. I write this now as I am not sleepy, though I must try
again.
4 October, morning.—Once again during the night I was wakened by
Mina. This time we had all had a good sleep, for the grey of the
coming dawn was making the windows into sharp oblongs, and the gas
flame was like a speck rather than a disc of light.
She said to me hurriedly, "Go, call the Professor. I want to see
him at once."
"Why?" I asked.
"I have an idea. I suppose it must have come in the night, and
matured without my knowing it. He must hypnotize me before the
dawn, and then I shall be able to speak. Go quick, dearest, the
time is getting close."
I went to the door. Dr. Seward was resting on the mattress, and
seeing me, he sprang to his feet.
"Is anything wrong?" he asked, in alarm.
"No," I replied. "But Mina wants to see Dr. Van Helsing at
once."
"I will go," he said, and hurried into the Professor's room.
Two or three minutes later Van Helsing was in the room in his
dressing gown, and Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming were with Dr.
Seward at the door asking questions. When the Professor saw Mina a
smile, a positive smile ousted the anxiety of his face.
He rubbed his hands as he said, "Oh, my dear Madam Mina, this is
indeed a change. See! Friend Jonathan, we have got our dear Madam |
indeed a change. See! Friend Jonathan, we have got our dear Madam
Mina, as of old, back to us today!" Then turning to her, he said
cheerfully, "And what am I to do for you? For at this hour you do
not want me for nothing."
"I want you to hypnotize me!" she said. "Do it before the dawn,
for I feel that then I can speak, and speak freely. Be quick, for
the time is short!" Without a word he motioned her to sit up in
bed.
Looking fixedly at her, he commenced to make passes in front of
her, from over the top of her head downward, with each hand in
turn. Mina gazed at him fixedly for a few minutes, during which my
own heart beat like a trip hammer, for I felt that some crisis was
at hand. Gradually her eyes closed, and she sat, stock still. Only
by the gentle heaving of her bosom could one know that she was
alive. The Professor made a few more passes and then stopped, and I
could see that his forehead was covered with great beads of
perspiration. Mina opened her eyes, but she did not seem the same
woman. There was a far-away look in her eyes, and her voice had a
sad dreaminess which was new to me. Raising his hand to impose
silence, the Professor motioned to me to bring the others in. They
came on tiptoe, closing the door behind them, and stood at the foot
of the bed, looking on. Mina appeared not to see them. The
stillness was broken by Van Helsing's voice speaking in a low level
tone which would not break the current of her thoughts.
"Where are you?" The answer came in a neutral way.
"I do not know. Sleep has no place it can call its own." For
several minutes there was silence. Mina sat rigid, and the
Professor stood staring at her fixedly.
The rest of us hardly dared to breathe. The room was growing
lighter. Without taking his eyes from Mina's face, Dr. Van Helsing
motioned me to pull up the blind. I did so, and the day seemed just
upon us. A red streak shot up, and a rosy light seemed to diffuse
itself through the room. On the instant the Professor spoke
again.
"Where are you now?"itself through the room. On the instant the Professor spoke
again.
"Where are you now?"
The answer came dreamily, but with intention. It were as though
she were interpreting something. I have heard her use the same tone
when reading her shorthand notes.
"I do not know. It is all strange to me!"
"What do you see?"
"I can see nothing. It is all dark."
"What do you hear?" I could detect the strain in the Professor's
patient voice.
"The lapping of water. It is gurgling by, and little waves leap.
I can hear them on the outside."
"Then you are on a ship?'"
We all looked at each other, trying to glean something each from
the other. We were afraid to think.
The answer came quick, "Oh, yes!"
"What else do you hear?"
"The sound of men stamping overhead as they run about. There is
the creaking of a chain, and the loud tinkle as the check of the
capstan falls into the ratchet."
"What are you doing?"
"I am still, oh so still. It is like death!" The voice faded
away into a deep breath as of one sleeping, and the open eyes
closed again.
By this time the sun had risen, and we were all in the full
light of day. Dr. Van Helsing placed his hands on Mina's shoulders,
and laid her head down softly on her pillow. She lay like a
sleeping child for a few moments, and then, with a long sigh, awoke
and stared in wonder to see us all around her.
"Have I been talking in my sleep?" was all she said. She seemed,
however, to know the situation without telling,though she was eager
to know what she had told. The Professor repeated the conversation,
and she said, "Then there is not a moment to lose. It may not be
yet too late!"
Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming started for the door but the
Professor's calm voice called them back.
"Stay, my friends. That ship, wherever it was, was weighing
anchor at the moment in your so great Port of London. Which of them
is it that you seek? God be thanked that we have once again a clue,
though whither it may lead us we know not. We have been blind
somewhat. Blind after the manner of men, since we can look back wesomewhat. Blind after the manner of men, since we can look back we
see what we might have seen looking forward if we had been able to
see what we might have seen! Alas, but that sentence is a puddle,
is it not? We can know now what was in the Count's mind, when he
seize that money, though Jonathan's so fierce knife put him in the
danger that even he dread. He meant escape. Hear me, ESCAPE! He saw
that with but one earth box left, and a pack of men following like
dogs after a fox, this London was no place for him. He have take
his last earth box on board a ship, and he leave the land. He think
to escape, but no! We follow him. Tally Ho! As friend Arthur would
say when he put on his red frock! Our old fox is wily. Oh! So wily,
and we must follow with wile. I, too, am wily and I think his mind
in a little while. In meantime we may rest and in peace, for there
are between us which he do not want to pass, and which he could not
if he would. Unless the ship were to touch the land, and then only
at full or slack tide. See, and the sun is just rose, and all day
to sunset is us. Let us take bath, and dress, and have breakfast
which we all need, and which we can eat comfortably since he be not
in the same land with us."
Mina looked at him appealingly as she asked, "But why need we
seek him further, when he is gone away from us?"
He took her hand and patted it as he replied, "Ask me nothing as
yet. When we have breakfast, then I answer all questions." He would
say no more, and we separated to dress.
After breakfast Mina repeated her question. He looked at her
gravely for a minute and then said sorrowfully, "Because my dear,
dear Madam Mina, now more than ever must we find him even if we
have to follow him to the jaws of Hell!"
She grew paler as she asked faintly, "Why?"
"Because," he answered solemnly, "he can live for centuries, and
you are but mortal woman. Time is now to be dreaded, since once he
put that mark upon your throat."
I was just in time to catch her as she fell forward in a
faint. |
SPOKEN BY VAN HELSING
This to Jonathan Harker.
You are to stay with your dear Madam Mina. We shall go to make
our search, if I can call it so, for it is not search but knowing,
and we seek confirmation only. But do you stay and take care of her
today. This is your best and most holiest office. This day nothing
can find him here.
Let me tell you that so you will know what we four know already,
for I have tell them. He, our enemy, have gone away. He have gone
back to his Castle in Transylvania. I know it so well, as if a
great hand of fire wrote it on the wall. He have prepare for this
in some way, and that last earth box was ready to ship somewheres.
For this he took the money. For this he hurry at the last, lest we
catch him before the sun go down. It was his last hope, save that
he might hide in the tomb that he think poor Miss Lucy, being as he
thought like him, keep open to him. But there was not of time. When
that fail he make straight for his last resource, his last
earthwork I might say did I wish double entente. He is clever, oh
so clever! He know that his game here was finish. And so he decide
he go back home. He find ship going by the route he came, and he go
in it.
We go off now to find what ship, and whither bound. When we have
discover that, we come back and tell you all. Then we will comfort
you and poor Madam Mina with new hope. For it will be hope when you
think it over, that all is not lost. This very creature that we
pursue, he take hundreds of years to get so far as London. And yet
in one day, when we know of the disposal of him we drive him out.
He is finite, though he is powerful to do much harm and suffers not
as we do. But we are strong, each in our purpose, and we are all
more strong together. Take heart afresh, dear husband of Madam
Mina. This battle is but begun and in the end we shall win. So sure
as that God sits on high to watch over His children. Therefore be
of much comfort till we return.
VAN HELSING.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNALof much comfort till we return.
VAN HELSING.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
4 October.—When I read to Mina, Van Helsing's message in the
phonograph, the poor girl brightened up considerably. Already the
certainty that the Count is out of the country has given her
comfort. And comfort is strength to her. For my own part, now that
his horrible danger is not face to face with us, it seems almost
impossible to believe in it. Even my own terrible experiences in
Castle Dracula seem like a long forgotten dream. Here in the crisp
autumn air in the bright sunlight.
Alas! How can I disbelieve! In the midst of my thought my eye
fell on the red scar on my poor darling's white forehead. Whilst
that lasts, there can be no disbelief. Mina and I fear to be idle,
so we have been over all the diaries again and again. Somehow,
although the reality seem greater each time, the pain and the fear
seem less. There is something of a guiding purpose manifest
throughout, which is comforting. Mina says that perhaps we are the
instruments of ultimate good. It may be! I shall try to think as
she does. We have never spoken to each other yet of the future. It
is better to wait till we see the Professor and the others after
their investigations.
The day is running by more quickly than I ever thought a day
could run for me again. It is now three o'clock.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
5 October, 5 p. m.—Our meeting for report. Present: Professor
Van Helsing, Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, Mr. Quincey Morris,
Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker.
Dr. Van Helsing described what steps were taken during the day
to discover on what boat and whither bound Count Dracula made his
escape.
"As I knew that he wanted to get back to Transylvania, I felt
sure that he must go by the Danube mouth, or by somewhere in the
Black Sea, since by that way he come. It was a dreary blank that
was before us. Omme Ignotum pro magnifico. And so with heavy hearts
we start to find what ships leave for the Black Sea last night. He
was in sailing ship, since Madam Mina tell of sails being set.was in sailing ship, since Madam Mina tell of sails being set.
These not so important as to go in your list of the shipping in the
Times, and so we go, by suggestion of Lord Godalming, to your
Lloyd's, where are note of all ships that sail, however so small.
There we find that only one Black Sea bound ship go out with the
tide. She is the Czarina Catherine, and she sail from Doolittle's
Wharf for Varna, and thence to other ports and up the Danube. `So!'
said I, `this is the ship whereon is the Count.' So off we go to
Doolittle's Wharf, and there we find a man in an office. From him
we inquire of the goings of the Czarina Catherine. He swear much,
and he red face and loud of voice, but he good fellow all the same.
And when Quincey give him something from his pocket which crackle
as he roll it up, and put it in a so small bag which he have hid
deep in his clothing, he still better fellow and humble servant to
us. He come with us, and ask many men who are rough and hot. These
be better fellows too when they have been no more thirsty. They say
much of blood and bloom, and of others which I comprehend not,
though I guess what they mean. But nevertheless they tell us all
things which we want to know.
"They make known to us among them, how last afternoon at about
five o'clock comes a man so hurry. A tall man, thin and pale, with
high nose and teeth so white, and eyes that seem to be burning.
That he be all in black, except that he have a hat of straw which
suit not him or the time. That he scatter his money in making quick
inquiry as to what ship sails for the Black Sea and for where. Some
took him to the office and then to the ship, where he will not go
aboard but halt at shore end of gangplank, and ask that the captain
come to him. The captain come, when told that he will be pay well,
and though he swear much at the first he agree to term. Then the
thin man go and some one tell him where horse and cart can be
hired. He go there and soon he come again, himself driving cart on |
hired. He go there and soon he come again, himself driving cart on
which a great box. This he himself lift down, though it take
several to put it on truck for the ship. He give much talk to
captain as to how and where his box is to be place. But the captain
like it not and swear at him in many tongues, and tell him that if
he like he can come and see where it shall be. But he say `no,'
that he come not yet, for that he have much to do. Whereupon the
captain tell him that he had better be quick, with blood, for that
his ship will leave the place, of blood, before the turn of the
tide, with blood. Then the thin man smile and say that of course he
must go when he think fit, but he will be surprise if he go quite
so soon. The captain swear again, polyglot, and the thin man make
him bow, and thank him, and say that he will so far intrude on his
kindness as to come aboard before the sailing. Final the captain,
more red than ever, and in more tongues, tell him that he doesn't
want no Frenchmen, with bloom upon them and also with blood, in his
ship, with blood on her also. And so, after asking where he might
purchase ship forms, he departed.
"No one knew where he went `or bloomin' well cared' as they
said, for they had something else to think of, well with blood
again. For it soon became apparent to all that the Czarina
Catherine would not sail as was expected. A thin mist began to
creep up from the river, and it grew, and grew. Till soon a dense
fog enveloped the ship and all around her. The captain swore
polyglot, very polyglot, polyglot with bloom and blood, but he
could do nothing. The water rose and rose, and he began to fear
that he would lose the tide altogether. He was in no friendly mood,
when just at full tide, the thin man came up the gangplank again
and asked to see where his box had been stowed. Then the captain
replied that he wished that he and his box, old and with much bloom
and blood, were in hell. But the thin man did not be offend, andand blood, were in hell. But the thin man did not be offend, and
went down with the mate and saw where it was place, and came up and
stood awhile on deck in fog. He must have come off by himself, for
none notice him. Indeed they thought not of him, for soon the fog
begin to melt away, and all was clear again. My friends of the
thirst and the language that was of bloom and blood laughed, as
they told how the captain's swears exceeded even his usual
polyglot, and was more than ever full of picturesque, when on
questioning other mariners who were on movement up and down the
river that hour, he found that few of them had seen any of fog at
all, except where it lay round the wharf. However, the ship went
out on the ebb tide, and was doubtless by morning far down the
river mouth. She was then, when they told us, well out to sea.
"And so, my dear Madam Mina, it is that we have to rest for a
time, for our enemy is on the sea, with the fog at his command, on
his way to the Danube mouth. To sail a ship takes time, go she
never so quick. And when we start to go on land more quick, and we
meet him there. Our best hope is to come on him when in the box
between sunrise and sunset. For then he can make no struggle, and
we may deal with him as we should. There are days for us, in which
we can make ready our plan. We know all about where he go. For we
have seen the owner of the ship, who have shown us invoices and all
papers that can be. The box we seek is to be landed in Varna, and
to be given to an agent, one Ristics who will there present his
credentials. And so our merchant friend will have done his part.
When he ask if there be any wrong, for that so, he can telegraph
and have inquiry made at Varna, we say `no,' for what is to be done
is not for police or of the customs. It must be done by us alone
and in our own way."
When Dr. Van Helsing had done speaking, I asked him if he were
certain that the Count had remained on board the ship. He replied,
"We have the best proof of that, your own evidence, when in the"We have the best proof of that, your own evidence, when in the
hypnotic trance this morning."
I asked him again if it were really necessary that they should
pursue the Count, for oh! I dread Jonathan leaving me, and I know
that he would surely go if the others went. He answered in growing
passion, at first quietly. As he went on, however, he grew more
angry and more forceful, till in the end we could not but see
wherein was at least some of that personal dominance which made him
so long a master amongst men.
"Yes, it is necessary, necessary, necessary! For your sake in
the first, and then for the sake of humanity. This monster has done
much harm already, in the narrow scope where he find himself, and
in the short time when as yet he was only as a body groping his so
small measure in darkness and not knowing. All this have I told
these others. You, my dear Madam Mina, will learn it in the
phonograph of my friend John, or in that of your husband. I have
told them how the measure of leaving his own barren land, barren of
peoples,and coming to a new land where life of man teems till they
are like the multitude of standing corn, was the work of centuries.
Were another of the Undead, like him, to try to do what he has
done, perhaps not all the centuries of the world that have been, or
that will be, could aid him. With this one, all the forces of
nature that are occult and deep and strong must have worked
together in some wonderous way. The very place, where he have been
alive, Undead for all these centuries, is full of strangeness of
the geologic and chemical world. There are deep caverns and
fissures that reach none know whither. There have been volcanoes,
some of whose openings still send out waters of strange properties,
and gases that kill or make to vivify. Doubtless, there is
something magnetic or electric in some of these combinations of
occult forces which work for physical life in strange way, and in
himself were from the first some great qualities. In a hard and |
himself were from the first some great qualities. In a hard and
warlike time he was celebrate that he have more iron nerve, more
subtle brain, more braver heart, than any man. In him some vital
principle have in strange way found their utmost. And as his body
keep strong and grow and thrive, so his brain grow too. All this
without that diabolic aid which is surely to him. For it have to
yield to the powers that come from, and are, symbolic of good. And
now this is what he is to us. He have infect you, oh forgive me, my
dear, that I must say such, but it is for good of you that I speak.
He infect you in such wise, that even if he do no more, you have
only to live, to live in your own old, sweet way, and so in time,
death, which is of man's common lot and with God's sanction, shall
make you like to him. This must not be! We have sworn together that
it must not. Thus are we ministers of God's own wish. That the
world, and men for whom His Son die, will not be given over to
monsters, whose very existence would defame Him. He have allowed us
to redeem one soul already, and we go out as the old knights of the
Cross to redeem more. Like them we shall travel towards the
sunrise. And like them, if we fall, we fall in good cause."
He paused and I said, "But will not the Count take his rebuff
wisely? Since he has been driven from England, will he not avoid
it, as a tiger does the village from which he has been hunted?"
"Aha!" he said, "your simile of the tiger good, for me, and I
shall adopt him. Your maneater, as they of India call the tiger who
has once tasted blood of the human, care no more for the other
prey, but prowl unceasing till he get him. This that we hunt from
our village is a tiger, too, a maneater, and he never cease to
prowl. Nay, in himself he is not one to retire and stay afar. In
his life, his living life, he go over the Turkey frontier and
attack his enemy on his own ground. He be beaten back, but did he
stay? No! He come again, and again, and again. Look at hisstay? No! He come again, and again, and again. Look at his
persistence and endurance. With the child-brain that was to him he
have long since conceive the idea of coming to a great city. What
does he do? He find out the place of all the world most of promise
for him. Then he deliberately set himself down to prepare for the
task. He find in patience just how is his strength, and what are
his powers. He study new tongues. He learn new social life, new
environment of old ways, the politics, the law, the finance, the
science, the habit of a new land and a new people who have come to
be since he was. His glimpse that he have had, whet his appetite
only and enkeen his desire. Nay, it help him to grow as to his
brain. For it all prove to him how right he was at the first in his
surmises. He have done this alone, all alone! From a ruin tomb in a
forgotten land. What more may he not do when the greater world of
thought is open to him. He that can smile at death, as we know him.
Who can flourish in the midst of diseases that kill off whole
peoples. Oh! If such an one was to come from God, and not the
Devil, what a force for good might he not be in this old world of
ours. But we are pledged to set the world free. Our toil must be in
silence, and our efforts all in secret. For in this enlightened
age, when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise
men would be his greatest strength. It would be at once his sheath
and his armor, and his weapons to destroy us, his enemies, who are
willing to peril even our own souls for the safety of one we love.
For the good of mankind, and for the honor and glory of God."
After a general discussion it was determined that for tonight
nothing be definitely settled. That we should all sleep on the
facts, and try to think out the proper conclusions. Tomorrow, at
breakfast, we are to meet again, and after making our conclusions
known to one another, we shall decide on some definite cause of
action …
I feel a wonderful peace and rest tonight. It is as if someaction …
I feel a wonderful peace and rest tonight. It is as if some
haunting presence were removed from me. Perhaps …
My surmise was not finished, could not be, for I caught sight in
the mirror of the red mark upon my forehead, and I knew that I was
still unclean.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
5 October.—We all arose early, and I think that sleep did much
for each and all of us. When we met at early breakfast there was
more general cheerfulness than any of us had ever expected to
experience again.
It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human
nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in
any way, even by death, and we fly back to first principles of hope
and enjoyment. More than once as we sat around the table, my eyes
opened in wonder whether the whole of the past days had not been a
dream. It was only when I caught sight of the red blotch on Mrs.
Harker's forehead that I was brought back to reality. Even now,
when I am gravely revolving the matter, it is almost impossible to
realize that the cause of all our trouble is still existent. Even
Mrs. Harker seems to lose sight of her trouble for whole spells. It
is only now and again, when something recalls it to her mind, that
she thinks of her terrible scar. We are to meet here in my study in
half an hour and decide on our course of action. I see only one
immediate difficulty, I know it by instinct rather than reason. We
shall all have to speak frankly. And yet I fear that in some
mysterious way poor Mrs. Harker's tongue is tied. I know that she
forms conclusions of her own, and from all that has been I can
guess how brilliant and how true they must be. But she will not, or
cannot, give them utterance. I have mentioned this to Van Helsing,
and he and I are to talk it over when we are alone. I suppose it is
some of that horrid poison which has got into her veins beginning
to work. The Count had his own purposes when he gave her what Van
Helsing called "the Vampire's baptism of blood." Well, there may be |
Helsing called "the Vampire's baptism of blood." Well, there may be
a poison that distills itself out of good things. In an age when
the existence of ptomaines is a mystery we should not wonder at
anything! One thing I know, that if my instinct be true regarding
poor Mrs. Harker's silences, then there is a terrible difficulty,
an unknown danger, in the work before us. The same power that
compels her silence may compel her speech. I dare not think
further, for so I should in my thoughts dishonor a noble woman!
Later.—When the Professor came in, we talked over the state of
things. I could see that he had something on his mind, which he
wanted to say, but felt some hesitancy about broaching the subject.
After beating about the bush a little, he said,"Friend John, there
is something that you and I must talk of alone, just at the first
at any rate. Later, we may have to take the others into our
confidence."
Then he stopped, so I waited. He went on, "Madam Mina, our poor,
dear Madam Mina is changing."
A cold shiver ran through me to find my worst fears thus
endorsed. Van Helsing continued.
"With the sad experience of Miss Lucy, we must this time be
warned before things go too far. Our task is now in reality more
difficult than ever, and this new trouble makes every hour of the
direst importance. I can see the characteristics of the vampire
coming in her face. It is now but very, very slight. But it is to
be seen if we have eyes to notice without prejudge. Her teeth are
sharper, and at times her eyes are more hard. But these are not
all, there is to her the silence now often, as so it was with Miss
Lucy. She did not speak, even when she wrote that which she wished
to be known later. Now my fear is this. If it be that she can, by
our hypnotic trance, tell what the Count see and hear, is it not
more true that he who have hypnotize her first, and who have drink
of her very blood and make her drink of his, should if he will,
compel her mind to disclose to him that which she know?"compel her mind to disclose to him that which she know?"
I nodded acquiescence. He went on, "Then, what we must do is to
prevent this. We must keep her ignorant of our intent, and so she
cannot tell what she know not. This is a painful task! Oh, so
painful that it heartbreak me to think of it, but it must be. When
today we meet, I must tell her that for reason which we will not to
speak she must not more be of our council, but be simply guarded by
us."
He wiped his forehead, which had broken out in profuse
perspiration at the thought of the pain which he might have to
inflict upon the poor soul already so tortured. I knew that it
would be some sort of comfort to him if I told him that I also had
come to the same conclusion. For at any rate it would take away the
pain of doubt. I told him, and the effect was as I expected.
It is now close to the time of our general gathering. Van
Helsing has gone away to prepare for the meeting, and his painful
part of it. I really believe his purpose is to be able to pray
alone.
Later.—At the very outset of our meeting a great personal relief
was experienced by both Van Helsing and myself. Mrs. Harker had
sent a message by her husband to say that she would not join us at
present, as she thought it better that we should be free to discuss
our movements without her presence to embarrass us. The Professor
and I looked at each other for an instant, and somehow we both
seemed relieved. For my own part, I thought that if Mrs. Harker
realized the danger herself, it was much pain as well as much
danger averted. Under the circumstances we agreed, by a questioning
look and answer, with finger on lip, to preserve silence in our
suspicions, until we should have been able to confer alone again.
We went at once into our Plan of Campaign.
Van Helsing roughly put the facts before us first,"The Czarina
Catherine left the Thames yesterday morning. It will take her at
the quickest speed she has ever made at least three weeks to reachthe quickest speed she has ever made at least three weeks to reach
Varna. But we can travel overland to the same place in three days.
Now, if we allow for two days less for the ship's voyage, owing to
such weather influences as we know that the Count can bring to
bear, and if we allow a whole day and night for any delays which
may occur to us, then we have a margin of nearly two weeks.
"Thus, in order to be quite safe, we must leave here on 17th at
latest. Then we shall at any rate be in Varna a day before the ship
arrives, and able to make such preparations as may be necessary. Of
course we shall all go armed, armed against evil things, spiritual
as well as physical."
Here Quincey Morris added,"I understand that the Count comes
from a wolf country, and it may be that he shall get there before
us. I propose that we add Winchesters to our armament. I have a
kind of belief in a Winchester when there is any trouble of that
sort around. Do you remember, Art, when we had the pack after us at
Tobolsk? What wouldn't we have given then for a repeater
apiece!"
"Good!" said Van Helsing, "Winchesters it shall be. Quincey's
head is level at times, but most so when there is to hunt, metaphor
be more dishonor to science than wolves be of danger to man. In the
meantime we can do nothing here. And as I think that Varna is not
familiar to any of us, why not go there more soon? It is as long to
wait here as there. Tonight and tomorrow we can get ready, and then
if all be well, we four can set out on our journey."
"We four?" said Harker interrogatively, looking from one to
another of us.
"Of course!" answered the Professor quickly. "You must remain to
take care of your so sweet wife!"
Harker was silent for awhile and then said in a hollow voice,
"Let us talk of that part of it in the morning. I want to consult
with Mina."
I thought that now was the time for Van Helsing to warn him not
to disclose our plan to her, but he took no notice. I looked at him
significantly and coughed. For answer he put his finger to his lips |
significantly and coughed. For answer he put his finger to his lips
and turned away.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
October, afternoon.—For some time after our meeting this morning
I could not think. The new phases of things leave my mind in a
state of wonder which allows no room for active thought. Mina's
determination not to take any part in the discussion set me
thinking. And as I could not argue the matter with her, I could
only guess. I am as far as ever from a solution now. The way the
others received it, too puzzled me. The last time we talked of the
subject we agreed that there was to be no more concealment of
anything amongst us. Mina is sleeping now, calmly and sweetly like
a little child. Her lips are curved and her face beams with
happiness. Thank God, there are such moments still for her.
Later.—How strange it all is. I sat watching Mina's happy sleep,
and I came as near to being happy myself as I suppose I shall ever
be. As the evening drew on, and the earth took its shadows from the
sun sinking lower, the silence of the room grew more and more
solemn to me.
All at once Mina opened her eyes, and looking at me tenderly
said, "Jonathan, I want you to promise me something on your word of
honor. A promise made to me, but made holily in God's hearing, and
not to be broken though I should go down on my knees and implore
you with bitter tears. Quick, you must make it to me at once."
"Mina," I said, "a promise like that, I cannot make at once. I
may have no right to make it."
"But, dear one," she said, with such spiritual intensity that
her eyes were like pole stars, "it is I who wish it. And it is not
for myself. You can ask Dr. Van Helsing if I am not right. If he
disagrees you may do as you will. Nay, more if you all agree, later
you are absolved from the promise."
"I promise!" I said, and for a moment she looked supremely
happy. Though to me all happiness for her was denied by the red
scar on her forehead.
She said, "Promise me that you will not tell me anything of thescar on her forehead.
She said, "Promise me that you will not tell me anything of the
plans formed for the campaign against the Count. Not by word, or
inference, or implication, not at any time whilst this remains to
me!" And she solemnly pointed to the scar. I saw that she was in
earnest, and said solemnly, "I promise!" and as I said it I felt
that from that instant a door had been shut between us.
Later, midnight.—Mina has been bright and cheerful all the
evening. So much so that all the rest seemed to take courage, as if
infected somewhat with her gaiety. As a result even I myself felt
as if the pall of gloom which weighs us down were somewhat lifted.
We all retired early. Mina is now sleeping like a little child. It
is wonderful thing that her faculty of sleep remains to her in the
midst of her terrible trouble. Thank God for it, for then at least
she can forget her care. Perhaps her example may affect me as her
gaiety did tonight. I shall try it. Oh! For a dreamless sleep.
6 October, morning.—Another surprise. Mina woke me early, about
the same time as yesterday, and asked me to bring Dr. Van Helsing.
I thought that it was another occassion for hypnotism, and without
question went for the Professor. He had evidently expected some
such call, for I found him dressed in his room. His door was ajar,
so that he could hear the opening of the door of our room. He came
at once. As he passed into the room, he asked Mina if the others
might come, too.
"No," she said quite simply, "it will not be necessary. You can
tell them just as well. I must go with you on your journey."
Dr. Van Helsing was as startled as I was. After a moment's pause
he asked, "But why?"
"You must take me with you. I am safer with you, and you shall
be safer, too."
"But why, dear Madam Mina? You know that your safety is our
solemnest duty. We go into danger, to which you are, or may be,
more liable than any of us from … from circumstances …
things that have been." He paused embarrassed.
As she replied, she raised her finger and pointed to herAs she replied, she raised her finger and pointed to her
forehead. "I know. That is why I must go. I can tell you now,
whilst the sun is coming up. I may not be able again. I know that
when the Count wills me I must go. I know that if he tells me to
come in secret, I must by wile. By any device to hoodwink, even
Jonathan." God saw the look that she turned on me as she spoke, and
if there be indeed a Recording Angel that look is noted to her
ever-lasting honor. I could only clasp her hand. I could not speak.
My emotion was too great for even the relief of tears.
She went on. "You men are brave and strong. You are strong in
your numbers, for you can defy that which would break down the
human endurance of one who had to guard alone. Besides, I may be of
service, since you can hypnotize me and so learn that which even I
myself do not know."
Dr. Van Helsing said gravely, "Madam Mina, you are, as always,
most wise. You shall with us come. And together we shall do that
which we go forth to achieve."
When he had spoken, Mina's long spell of silence made me look at
her. She had fallen back on her pillow asleep. She did not even
wake when I had pulled up the blind and let in the sunlight which
flooded the room. Van Helsing motioned to me to come with him
quietly. We went to his room, and within a minute Lord Godalming,
Dr. Seward, and Mr. Morris were with us also.
He told them what Mina had said, and went on. "In the morning we
shall leave for Varna. We have now to deal with a new factor, Madam
Mina. Oh, but her soul is true. It is to her an agony to tell us so
much as she has done. But it is most right, and we are warned in
time. There must be no chance lost, and in Varna we must be ready
to act the instant when that ship arrives."
"What shall we do exactly?" asked Mr. Morris laconically.
The Professor paused before replying, "We shall at the first
board that ship. Then, when we have identified the box, we shall
place a branch of the wild rose on it. This we shall fasten, for |
place a branch of the wild rose on it. This we shall fasten, for
when it is there none can emerge, so that at least says the
superstition. And to superstition must we trust at the first. It
was man's faith in the early, and it have its root in faith still.
Then, when we get the opportunity that we seek, when none are near
to see, we shall open the box, and … and all will be
well."
"I shall not wait for any opportunity," said Morris. "When I see
the box I shall open it and destroy the monster, though there were
a thousand men looking on, and if I am to be wiped out for it the
next moment!" I grasped his hand instinctively and found it as firm
as a piece of steel. I think he understood my look. I hope he
did.
"Good boy," said Dr. Van Helsing. "Brave boy. Quincey is all
man. God bless him for it. My child, believe me none of us shall
lag behind or pause from any fear. I do but say what we may
do … what we must do. But, indeed, indeed we cannot say what
we may do. There are so many things which may happen, and their
ways and their ends are so various that until the moment we may not
say. We shall all be armed, in all ways. And when the time for the
end has come, our effort shall not be lack. Now let us today put
all our affairs in order. Let all things which touch on others dear
to us, and who on us depend, be complete. For none of us can tell
what, or when, or how, the end may be. As for me, my own affairs
are regulate, and as I have nothing else to do, I shall go make
arrangements for the travel. I shall have all tickets and so forth
for our journey."
There was nothing further to be said, and we parted. I shall now
settle up all my affairs of earth, and be ready for whatever may
come.
Later.—It is done. My will is made, and all complete. Mina if
she survive is my sole heir. If it should not be so, then the
others who have been so good to us shall have remainder.
It is now drawing towards the sunset. Mina's uneasiness calls my
attention to it. I am sure that there is something on her mindattention to it. I am sure that there is something on her mind
which the time of exact sunset will reveal. These occasions are
becoming harrowing times for us all. For each sunrise and sunset
opens up some new danger, some new pain, which however, may in
God's will be means to a good end. I write all these things in the
diary since my darling must not hear them now. But if it may be
that she can see them again, they shall be ready. She is calling to
me.11 October, Evening.—Jonathan Harker has asked me to note this,
as he says he is hardly equal to the task, and he wants an exact
record kept.
I think that none of us were surprised when we were asked to see
Mrs. Harker a little before the time of sunset. We have of late
come to understand that sunrise and sunset are to her times of
peculiar freedom. When her old self can be manifest without any
controlling force subduing or restraining her, or inciting her to
action. This mood or condition begins some half hour or more before
actual sunrise or sunset, and lasts till either the sun is high, or
whilst the clouds are still aglow with the rays streaming above the
horizon. At first there is a sort of negative condition, as if some
tie were loosened, and then the absolute freedom quickly follows.
When, however, the freedom ceases the change back or relapse comes
quickly, preceeded only by a spell of warning silence.
Tonight, when we met, she was somewhat constrained, and bore all
the signs of an internal struggle. I put it down myself to her
making a violent effort at the earliest instant she could do
so.
A very few minutes, however, gave her complete control of
herself. Then, motioning her husband to sit beside her on the sofa
where she was half reclining, she made the rest of us bring chairs
up close.
Taking her husband's hand in hers, she began, "We are all here
together in freedom, for perhaps the last time! I know that you
will always be with me to the end." This was to her husband whose
hand had, as we could see, tightened upon her. "In the morning we
go out upon our task, and God alone knows what may be in store for
any of us. You are going to be so good to me to take me with you. I
know that all that brave earnest men can do for a poor weak woman,
whose soul perhaps is lost, no, no, not yet, but is at any rate at
stake, you will do. But you must remember that I am not as you are.
There is a poison in my blood, in my soul, which may destroy me,
which must destroy me, unless some relief comes to us. Oh, mywhich must destroy me, unless some relief comes to us. Oh, my
friends, you know as well as I do, that my soul is at stake. And
though I know there is one way out for me, you must not and I must
not take it!" She looked appealingly to us all in turn, beginning
and ending with her husband.
"What is that way?" asked Van Helsing in a hoarse voice. "What
is that way, which we must not, may not, take?"
"That I may die now, either by my own hand or that of another,
before the greater evil is entirely wrought. I know, and you know,
that were I once dead you could and would set free my immortal
spirit, even as you did my poor Lucy's. Were death, or the fear of
death, the only thing that stood in the way I would not shrink to
die here now, amidst the friends who love me. But death is not all.
I cannot believe that to die in such a case, when there is hope
before us and a bitter task to be done, is God's will. Therefore, I
on my part, give up here the certainty of eternal rest, and go out
into the dark where may be the blackest things that the world or
the nether world holds!"
We were all silent, for we knew instinctively that this was only
a prelude. The faces of the others were set, and Harker's grew
ashen grey. Perhaps, he guessed better than any of us what was
coming.
She continued, "This is what I can give into the hotchpot." I
could not but note the quaint legal phrase which she used in such a
place, and with all seriousness. "What will each of you give? Your
lives I know," she went on quickly, "that is easy for brave men.
Your lives are God's, and you can give them back to Him, but what
will you give to me?" She looked again questionly, but this time
avoided her husband's face. Quincey seemed to understand, he
nodded, and her face lit up. "Then I shall tell you plainly what I
want, for there must be no doubtful matter in this connection
between us now. You must promise me, one and all, even you, my
beloved husband, that should the time come, you will kill me." |
beloved husband, that should the time come, you will kill me."
"What is that time?" The voice was Quincey's, but it was low and
strained.
"When you shall be convinced that I am so changed that it is
better that I die that I may live. When I am thus dead in the
flesh, then you will, without a moment's delay, drive a stake
through me and cut off my head, or do whatever else may be wanting
to give me rest!"
Quincey was the first to rise after the pause. He knelt down
before her and taking her hand in his said solemnly, "I'm only a
rough fellow, who hasn't, perhaps, lived as a man should to win
such a distinction, but I swear to you by all that I hold sacred
and dear that, should the time ever come, I shall not flinch from
the duty that you have set us. And I promise you, too, that I shall
make all certain, for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that
the time has come!"
"My true friend!" was all she could say amid her fastfalling
tears, as bending over, she kissed his hand.
"I swear the same, my dear Madam Mina!"said Van Helsing. "And
I!" said Lord Godalming, each of them in turn kneeling to her to
take the oath. I followed, myself.
Then her husband turned to her wan-eyed and with a greenish
pallor which subdued the snowy whiteness of his hair, and asked,
"And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?"
"You too, my dearest,"she said, with infinite yearning of pity
in her voice and eyes. "You must not shrink. You are nearest and
dearest and all the world to me. Our souls are knit into one, for
all life and all time. Think, dear, that there have been times when
brave men have killed their wives and their womenkind, to keep them
from falling into the hands of the enemy. Their hands did not
falter any the more because those that they loved implored them to
slay them. It is men's duty towards those whom they love, in such
times of sore trial! And oh, my dear, if it is to be that I must
meet death at any hand, let it be at the hand of him that loves me
best. Dr. Van Helsing, I have not forgotten your mercy in poorbest. Dr. Van Helsing, I have not forgotten your mercy in poor
Lucy's case to him who loved." She stopped with a flying blush, and
changed her phrase, "to him who had best right to give her peace.
If that time shall come again, I look to you to make it a happy
memory of my husband's life that it was his loving hand which set
me free from the awful thrall upon me."
"Again I swear!" came the Professor's resonant voice.
Mrs. Harker smiled, positively smiled, as with a sigh of relief
she leaned back and said, "And now one word of warning, a warning
which you must never forget. This time, if it ever come, may come
quickly and unexpectedly, and in such case you must lose no time in
using your opportunity. At such a time I myself might be …
nay! If the time ever come, shall be, leagued with your enemy
against you.
"One more request," she became very solemn as she said this, "it
is not vital and necessary like the other, but I want you to do one
thing for me, if you will."
We all acquiesced, but no one spoke. There was no need to
speak.
"I want you to read the Burial Service." She was interrupted by
a deep groan from her husband. Taking his hand in hers, she held it
over her heart, and continued. "You must read it over me some day.
Whatever may be the issue of all this fearful state of things, it
will be a sweet thought to all or some of us. You, my dearest, will
I hope read it, for then it will be in your voice in my memory
forever, come what may!"
"But oh, my dear one," he pleaded, "death is afar off from
you."
"Nay," she said, holding up a warning hand. "I am deeper in
death at this moment than if the weight of an earthly grave lay
heavy upon me!"
"Oh, my wife, must I read it?"he said, before he began.
"It would comfort me, my husband!" was all she said, and he
began to read when she had got the book ready.
How can I, how could anyone, tell of that strange scene, its
solemnity, its gloom,its sadness, its horror, and withal, its
sweetness. Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but a travesty ofsweetness. Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but a travesty of
bitter truth in anything holy or emotional, would have been melted
to the heart had he seen that little group of loving and devoted
friends kneeling round that stricken and sorrowing lady. Or heard
the tender passion of her husband's voice, as in tones so broken
and emotional that often he had to pause, he read the simple and
beautiful service from the Burial of the Dead. I cannot go
on … words … and v-voices … f-fail m-me!
She was right in her instinct. Strange as it was, bizarre as it
may hereafter seem even to us who felt its potent influence at the
time, it comforted us much. And the silence, which showed Mrs.
Harker's coming relapse from her freedom of soul, did not seem so
full of despair to any of us as we had dreaded.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
15 October, Varna.—We left Charing Cross on the morning of the
12th, got to Paris the same night, and took the places secured for
us in the Orient Express. We traveled night and day, arriving here
at about five o'clock. Lord Godalming went to the Consulate to see
if any telegram had arrived for him, whilst the rest of us came on
to this hotel, "the Odessus." The journey may have had incidents. I
was, however, too eager to get on, to care for them. Until the
Czarina Catherine comes into port there will be no interest for me
in anything in the wide world. Thank God! Mina is well, and looks
to be getting stronger. Her color is coming back. She sleeps a
great deal. Throughout the journey she slept nearly all the time.
Before sunrise and sunset, however, she is very wakeful and alert.
And it has become a habit for Van Helsing to hypnotize her at such
times. At first, some effort was needed, and he had to make many
passes. But now, she seems to yield at once, as if by habit, and
scarcely any action is needed. He seems to have power at these
particular moments to simply will, and her thoughts obey him. He
always asks her what she can see and hear.
She answers to the first, "Nothing, all is dark." |
always asks her what she can see and hear.
She answers to the first, "Nothing, all is dark."
And to the second,"I can hear the waves lapping against the
ship, and the water rushing by. Canvas and cordage strain and masts
and yards creak. The wind is high … I can hear it in the
shrouds, and the bow throws back the foam."
It is evident that the Czarina Catherine is still at sea,
hastening on her way to Varna. Lord Godalming has just returned. He
had four telegrams, one each day since we started, and all to the
same effect. That the Czarina Catherine had not been reported to
Lloyd's from anywhere. He had arranged before leaving London that
his agent should send him every day a telegram saying if the ship
had been reported. He was to have a message even if she were not
reported, so that he might be sure that there was a watch being
kept at the other end of the wire.
We had dinner and went to bed early. Tomorrow we are to see the
Vice Consul, and to arrange, if we can, about getting on board the
ship as soon as she arrives. Van Helsing says that our chance will
be to get on the boat between sunrise and sunset. The Count, even
if he takes the form of a bat, cannot cross the running water of
his own volition, and so cannot leave the ship. As he dare not
change to man's form without suspicion, which he evidently wishes
to avoid, he must remain in the box. If, then, we can come on board
after sunrise, he is at our mercy, for we can open the box and make
sure of him, as we did of poor Lucy, before he wakes. What mercy he
shall get from us all will not count for much. We think that we
shall not have much trouble with officials or the seamen. Thank
God! This is the country where bribery can do anything, and we are
well supplied with money. We have only to make sure that the ship
cannot come into port between sunset and sunrise without our being
warned, and we shall be safe. Judge Moneybag will settle this case,
I think!
16 October.—Mina's report still the same. Lapping waves andI think!
16 October.—Mina's report still the same. Lapping waves and
rushing water, darkness and favoring winds. We are evidently in
good time, and when we hear of the Czarina Catherine we shall be
ready. As she must pass the Dardanelles we are sure to have some
report.
17 October.—Everything is pretty well fixed now, I think, to
welcome the Count on his return from his tour. Godalming told the
shippers that he fancied that the box sent aboard might contain
something stolen from a friend of his, and got a half consent that
he might open it at his own risk. The owner gave him a paper
telling the Captain to give him every facility in doing whatever he
chose on board the ship, and also a similar authorization to his
agent at Varna. We have seen the agent, who was much impressed with
Godalming's kindly manner to him, and we are all satisfied that
whatever he can do to aid our wishes will be done.
We have already arranged what to do in case we get the box open.
If the Count is there, Van Helsing and Seward will cut off his head
at once and drive a stake through his heart. Morris and Godalming
and I shall prevent interference, even if we have to use the arms
which we shall have ready. The Professor says that if we can so
treat the Count's body, it will soon after fall into dust. In such
case there would be no evidence against us, in case any suspicion
of murder were aroused. But even if it were not, we should stand or
fall by our act, and perhaps some day this very script may be
evidence to come between some of us and a rope. For myself, I
should take the chance only too thankfully if it were to come. We
mean to leave no stone unturned to carry out our intent. We have
arranged with certain officials that the instant the Czarina
Catherine is seen, we are to be informed by a special
messenger.
24 October.—A whole week of waiting. Daily telegrams to
Godalming, but only the same story. "Not yet reported." Mina's
morning and evening hypnotic answer is unvaried. Lapping waves,
rushing water, and creaking masts.morning and evening hypnotic answer is unvaried. Lapping waves,
rushing water, and creaking masts.
TELEGRAM, OCTOBER 24TH RUFUS SMITH, LLOYD'S, LONDON, TO LORD
GODALMING, CARE OF
H. B. M. VICE CONSUL, VARNA
"Czarina Catherine reported this morning from Dardanelles."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
25 October.—How I miss my phonograph! To write a diary with a
pen is irksome to me! But Van Helsing says I must. We were all wild
with excitement yesterday when Godalming got his telegram from
Lloyd's. I know now what men feel in battle when the call to action
is heard. Mrs.Harker, alone of our party, did not show any signs of
emotion. After all, it is not strange that she did not, for we took
special care not to let her know anything about it, and we all
tried not to show any excitement when we were in her presence. In
old days she would, I am sure, have noticed, no matter how we might
have tried to conceal it. But in this way she is greatly changed
during the past three weeks. The lethargy grows upon her, and
though she seems strong and well, and is getting back some of her
color, Van Helsing and I are not satisfied. We talk of her often.
We have not, however, said a word to the others. It would break
poor Harker's heart, certainly his nerve, if he knew that we had
even a suspicion on the subject. Van Helsing examines, he tells me,
her teeth very carefully, whilst she is in the hypnotic condition,
for he says that so long as they do not begin to sharpen there is
no active danger of a change in her. If this change should come, it
would be necessary to take steps! We both know what those steps
would have to be, though we do not mention our thoughts to each
other. We should neither of us shrink from the task, awful though
it be to contemplate. "Euthanasia" is an excellent and a comforting
word! I am grateful to whoever invented it.
It is only about 24 hours' sail from the Dardanelles to here, at
the rate the Czarina Catherine has come from London. She should
therefore arrive some time in the morning, but as she cannot |
therefore arrive some time in the morning, but as she cannot
possibly get in before noon, we are all about to retire early. We
shall get up at one o'clock, so as to be ready.
25 October, Noon.—No news yet of the ship's arrival. Mrs.
Harker's hypnotic report this morning was the same as usual, so it
is possible that we may get news at any moment. We men are all in a
fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm. His hands are cold
as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great
Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a
bad lookout for the Count if the edge of that "Kukri" ever touches
his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand!
Van Helsing and I were a little alarmed about Mrs. Harker today.
About noon she got into a sort of lethargy which we did not like.
Although we kept silence to the others, we were neither of us happy
about it. She had been restless all the morning, so that we were at
first glad to know that she was sleeping. When, however, her
husband mentioned casually that she was sleeping so soundly that he
could not wake her, we went to her room to see for ourselves. She
was breathing naturally and looked so well and peaceful that we
agreed that the sleep was better for her than anything else. Poor
girl, she has so much to forget that it is no wonder that sleep, if
it brings oblivion to her, does her good.
Later.—Our opinion was justified, for when after a refreshing
sleep of some hours she woke up, she seemed brighter and better
than she had been for days. At sunset she made the usual hypnotic
report. Wherever he may be in the Black Sea, the Count is hurrying
to his destination. To his doom, I trust!
26 October.—Another day and no tidings of the Czarina Catherine.
She ought to be here by now. That she is still journeying somewhere
is apparent, for Mrs. Harker's hypnotic report at sunrise was still
the same. It is possible that the vessel may be lying by, at times,
for fog. Some of the steamers which came in last evening reportedfor fog. Some of the steamers which came in last evening reported
patches of fog both to north and south of the port. We must
continue our watching, as the ship may now be signalled any
moment.
27 October, Noon.—Most strange. No news yet of the ship we wait
for. Mrs. Harker reported last night and this morning as usual.
"Lapping waves and rushing water," though she added that "the waves
were very faint." The telegrams from London have been the same, "no
further report." Van Helsing is terribly anxious, and told me just
now that he fears the Count is escaping us.
He added significantly, "I did not like that lethargy of Madam
Mina's. Souls and memories can do strange things during trance." I
was about to ask him more, but Harker just then came in, and he
held up a warning hand. We must try tonight at sunset to make her
speak more fully when in her hypnotic state.
28 October.—Telegram. Rufus Smith, London, to Lord Godalming,
care H. B. M. Vice Consul, Varna "Czarina Catherine reported
entering Galatz at one o'clock today."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
28 October.—When the telegram came announcing the arrival in
Galatz I do not think it was such a shock to any of us as might
have been expected. True, we did not know whence, or how, or when,
the bolt would come. But I think we all expected that something
strange would happen. The day of arrival at Varna made us
individually satisfied that things would not be just as we had
expected. We only waited to learn where the change would occur.
None the less, however, it was a surprise. I suppose that nature
works on such a hopeful basis that we believe against ourselves
that things will be as they ought to be, not as we should know that
they will be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to the angels, even if
it be a will-o'-the-wisp to man. Van Helsing raised his hand over
his head for a moment, as though in remonstrance with the Almighty.
But he said not a word, and in a few seconds stood up with his face
sternly set.
Lord Godalming grew very pale, and sat breathing heavily. I wassternly set.
Lord Godalming grew very pale, and sat breathing heavily. I was
myself half stunned and looked in wonder at one after another.
Quincey Morris tightened his belt with that quick movement which I
knew so well. In our old wandering days it meant "action." Mrs.
Harker grew ghastly white, so that the scar on her forehead seemed
to burn, but she folded her hands meekly and looked up in prayer.
Harker smiled, actually smiled, the dark, bitter smile of one who
is without hope, but at the same time his action belied his words,
for his hands instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri
knife and rested there.
"When does the next train start for Galatz?" said Van Helsing to
us generally.
"At 6:30 tomorrow morning!" We all started, for the answer came
from Mrs. Harker.
"How on earth do you know?" said Art.
"You forget, or perhaps you do not know, though Jonathan does
and so does Dr. Van Helsing, that I am the train fiend. At home in
Exeter I always used to make up the time tables, so as to be
helpful to my husband. I found it so useful sometimes, that I
always make a study of the time tables now. I knew that if anything
were to take us to Castle Dracula we should go by Galatz, or at any
rate through Bucharest, so I learned the times very carefully.
Unhappily there are not many to learn, as the only train tomorrow
leaves as I say."
"Wonderful woman!" murmured the Professor.
"Can't we get a special?" asked Lord Godalming.
Van Helsing shook his head, "I fear not. This land is very
different from yours or mine. Even if we did have a special, it
would probably not arrive as soon as our regular train. Moreover,
we have something to prepare. We must think. Now let us organize.
You, friend Arthur, go to the train and get the tickets and arrange
that all be ready for us to go in the morning. Do you, friend
Jonathan, go to the agent of the ship and get from him letters to
the agent in Galatz, with authority to make a search of the ship
just as it was here. Quincey Morris, you see the Vice Consul, and |
just as it was here. Quincey Morris, you see the Vice Consul, and
get his aid with his fellow in Galatz and all he can do to make our
way smooth, so that no times be lost when over the Danube. John
will stay with Madam Mina and me, and we shall consult. For so if
time be long you may be delayed. And it will not matter when the
sun set, since I am here with Madam to make report."
"And I," said Mrs. Harker brightly, and more like her old self
than she had been for many a long day, "shall try to be of use in
all ways, and shall think and write for you as I used to do.
Something is shifting from me in some strange way, and I feel freer
than I have been of late!"
The three younger men looked happier at the moment as they
seemed to realize the significance of her words. But Van Helsing
and I, turning to each other, met each a grave and troubled glance.
We said nothing at the time, however.
When the three men had gone out to their tasks Van Helsing asked
Mrs. Harker to look up the copy of the diaries and find him the
part of Harker's journal at the Castle. She went away to get
it.
When the door was shut upon her he said to me, "We mean the
same! Speak out!"
"Here is some change. It is a hope that makes me sick, for it
may deceive us."
"Quite so. Do you know why I asked her to get the
manuscript?"
"No!" said I, "unless it was to get an opportunity of seeing me
alone."
"You are in part right, friend John, but only in part. I want to
tell you something. And oh, my friend, I am taking a great, a
terrible, risk. But I believe it is right. In the moment when Madam
Mina said those words that arrest both our understanding, an
inspiration came to me. In the trance of three days ago the Count
sent her his spirit to read her mind. Or more like he took her to
see him in his earth box in the ship with water rushing, just as it
go free at rise and set of sun. He learn then that we are here, for
she have more to tell in her open life with eyes to see ears to
hear than he, shut as he is, in his coffin box. Now he make hishear than he, shut as he is, in his coffin box. Now he make his
most effort to escape us. At present he want her not.
"He is sure with his so great knowledge that she will come at
his call. But he cut her off, take her, as he can do, out of his
own power, that so she come not to him. Ah! There I have hope that
our man brains that have been of man so long and that have not lost
the grace of God, will come higher than his child-brain that lie in
his tomb for centuries, that grow not yet to our stature, and that
do only work selfish and therefore small. Here comes Madam Mina.
Not a word to her of her trance! She knows it not, and it would
overwhelm her and make despair just when we want all her hope, all
her courage, when most we want all her great brain which is trained
like man's brain, but is of sweet woman and have a special power
which the Count give her, and which he may not take away
altogether, though he think not so. Hush! Let me speak, and you
shall learn. Oh, John, my friend, we are in awful straits. I fear,
as I never feared before. We can only trust the good God. Silence!
Here she comes!"
I thought that the Professor was going to break down and have
hysterics, just as he had when Lucy died, but with a great effort
he controlled himself and was at perfect nervous poise when Mrs.
Harker tripped into the room, bright and happy looking and, in the
doing of work, seemingly forgetful of her misery. As she came in,
she handed a number of sheets of typewriting to Van Helsing. He
looked over them gravely, his face brightening up as he read.
Then holding the pages between his finger and thumb he said,
"Friend John, to you with so much experience already, and you too,
dear Madam Mina, that are young, here is a lesson. Do not fear ever
to think. A half thought has been buzzing often in my brain, but I
fear to let him loose his wings. Here now, with more knowledge, I
go back to where that half thought come from and I find that he be
no half thought at all. That be a whole thought, though so youngno half thought at all. That be a whole thought, though so young
that he is not yet strong to use his little wings. Nay, like the
`Ugly Duck' of my friend Hans Andersen, he be no duck thought at
all, but a big swan thought that sail nobly on big wings, when the
time come for him to try them. See I read here what Jonathan have
written.
"That other of his race who, in a later age, again and again,
brought his forces over The Great River into Turkey Land, who when
he was beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had
to come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being
slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately
triumph.
"What does this tell us? Not much? No! The Count's child thought
see nothing, therefore he speak so free. Your man thought see
nothing. My man thought see nothing, till just now. No! But there
comes another word from some one who speak without thought because
she, too, know not what it mean, what it might mean. Just as there
are elements which rest, yet when in nature's course they move on
their way and they touch, the pouf! And there comes a flash of
light, heaven wide, that blind and kill and destroy some. But that
show up all earth below for leagues and leagues. Is it not so?
Well, I shall explain. To begin, have you ever study the philosophy
of crime? `Yes' and `No.' You, John, yes, for it is a study of
insanity. You, no, Madam Mina, for crime touch you not, not but
once. Still, your mind works true, and argues not a particulari ad
universale. There is this peculiarity in criminals. It is so
constant, in all countries and at all times, that even police, who
know not much from philosophy, come to know it empirically, that it
is. That is to be empiric. The criminal always work at one crime,
that is the true criminal who seems predestinate to crime, and who
will of none other. This criminal has not full man brain. He is
clever and cunning and resourceful, but he be not of man stature as
to brain. He be of child brain in much. Now this criminal of ours |
to brain. He be of child brain in much. Now this criminal of ours
is pre-destinate to crime also. He, too, have child brain, and it
is of the child to do what he have done. The little bird, the
little fish, the little animal learn not by principle, but
empirically. And when he learn to do, then there is to him the
ground to start from to do more. `Dos pou sto,' said Archimedes.
`Give me a fulcrum, and I shall move the world!' To do once, is the
fulcrum whereby child brain become man brain. And until he have the
purpose to do more, he continue to do the same again every time,
just as he have done before! Oh, my dear, I see that your eyes are
opened, and that to you the lightning flash show all the
leagues,"for Mrs. Harker began to clap her hands and her eyes
sparkled.
He went on, "Now you shall speak. Tell us two dry men of science
what you see with those so bright eyes." He took her hand and held
it whilst he spoke. His finger and thumb closed on her pulse, as I
thought instinctively and unconsciously, as she spoke.
"The Count is a criminal and of criminal type. Nordau and
Lombroso would so classify him, and qua criminal he is of an
imperfectly formed mind. Thus, in a difficulty he has to seek
resource in habit. His past is a clue, and the one page of it that
we know, and that from his own lips, tells that once before, when
in what Mr. Morris would call a`tight place,' he went back to his
own country from the land he had tried to invade, and thence,
without losing purpose, prepared himself for a new effort. He came
again better equipped for his work, and won. So he came to London
to invade a new land. He was beaten, and when all hope of success
was lost, and his existence in danger, he fled back over the sea to
his home. Just as formerly he had fled back over the Danube from
Turkey Land."
"Good, good! Oh, you so clever lady!" said Van Helsing,
enthusiastically, as he stooped and kissed her hand. A moment later
he said to me, as calmly as though we had been having a sick roomhe said to me, as calmly as though we had been having a sick room
consultation, "Seventy-two only, and in all this excitement. I have
hope."
Turning to her again, he said with keen expectation, "But go on.
Go on! There is more to tell if you will. Be not afraid. John and I
know. I do in any case, and shall tell you if you are right. Speak,
without fear!"
"I will try to. But you will forgive me if I seem too
egotistical."
"Nay! Fear not, you must be egotist, for it is of you that we
think."
"Then, as he is criminal he is selfish. And as his intellect is
small and his action is based on selfishness, he confines himself
to one purpose. That purpose is remorseless. As he fled back over
the Danube, leaving his forces to be cut to pieces, so now he is
intent on being safe, careless of all. So his own selfishness frees
my soul somewhat from the terrible power which he acquired over me
on that dreadful night. I felt it! Oh, I felt it! Thank God, for
His great mercy! My soul is freer than it has been since that awful
hour. And all that haunts me is a fear lest in some trance or dream
he may have used my knowledge for his ends."
The Professor stood up, "He has so used your mind, and by it he
has left us here in Varna, whilst the ship that carried him rushed
through enveloping fog up to Galatz, where, doubtless, he had made
preparation for escaping from us. But his child mind only saw so
far. And it may be that as ever is in God's Providence, the very
thing that the evil doer most reckoned on for his selfish good,
turns out to be his chiefest harm. The hunter is taken in his own
snare, as the great Psalmist says. For now that he think he is free
from every trace of us all, and that he has escaped us with so many
hours to him, then his selfish child brain will whisper him to
sleep. He think, too, that as he cut himself off from knowing your
mind, there can be no knowledge of him to you. There is where he
fail! That terrible baptism of blood which he give you makes youfail! That terrible baptism of blood which he give you makes you
free to go to him in spirit, as you have as yet done in your times
of freedom, when the sun rise and set. At such times you go by my
volition and not by his. And this power to good of you and others,
you have won from your suffering at his hands. This is now all more
precious that he know it not, and to guard himself have even cut
himself off from his knowledge of our where. We, however, are not
selfish, and we believe that God is with us through all this
blackness, and these many dark hours. We shall follow him, and we
shall not flinch. Even if we peril ourselves that we become like
him. Friend John, this has been a great hour, and it have done much
to advance us on our way. You must be scribe and write him all
down, so that when the others return from their work you can give
it to them, then they shall know as we do."
And so I have written it whilst we wait their return, and Mrs.
Harker has written with the typewriter all since she brought the MS
to us.29 October.—This is written in the train from Varna to Galatz.
Last night we all assembled a little before the time of sunset.
Each of us had done his work as well as he could, so far as
thought, and endeavor, and opportunity go, we are prepared for the
whole of our journey, and for our work when we get to Galatz. When
the usual time came round Mrs. Harker prepared herself for her
hypnotic effort, and after a longer and more serious effort on the
part of Van Helsing than has been usually necessary, she sank into
the trance. Usually she speaks on a hint, but this time the
Professor had to ask her questions, and to ask them pretty
resolutely, before we could learn anything. At last her answer
came.
"I can see nothing. We are still. There are no waves lapping,
but only a steady swirl of water softly running against the hawser.
I can hear men's voices calling, near and far, and the roll and
creak of oars in the rowlocks. A gun is fired somewhere, the echo
of it seems far away. There is tramping of feet overhead, and ropes
and chains are dragged along. What is this? There is a gleam of
light. I can feel the air blowing upon me."
Here she stopped. She had risen, as if impulsively, from where
she lay on the sofa, and raised both her hands, palms upwards, as
if lifting a weight. Van Helsing and I looked at each other with
understanding. Quincey raised his eyebrows slightly and looked at
her intently, whilst Harker's hand instinctively closed round the
hilt of his Kukri. There was a long pause. We all knew that the
time when she could speak was passing, but we felt that it was
useless to say anything.
Suddenly she sat up, and as she opened her eyes said sweetly,
"Would none of you like a cup of tea? You must all be so
tired!"
We could only make her happy, and so acqueisced. She bustled off
to get tea. When she had gone Van Helsing said, "You see, my
friends. He is close to land. He has left his earth chest. But he
has yet to get on shore. In the night he may lie hidden somewhere, |
has yet to get on shore. In the night he may lie hidden somewhere,
but if he be not carried on shore, or if the ship do not touch it,
he cannot achieve the land. In such case he can, if it be in the
night, change his form and jump or fly on shore, then, unless he be
carried he cannot escape. And if he be carried, then the customs
men may discover what the box contain. Thus, in fine, if he escape
not on shore tonight, or before dawn, there will be the whole day
lost to him. We may then arrive in time. For if he escape not at
night we shall come on him in daytime, boxed up and at our mercy.
For he dare not be his true self, awake and visible, lest he be
discovered."
There was no more to be said, so we waited in patience until the
dawn, at which time we might learn more from Mrs. Harker.
Early this morning we listened, with breathless anxiety, for her
response in her trance. The hypnotic stage was even longer in
coming than before, and when it came the time remaining until full
sunrise was so short that we began to despair. Van Helsing seemed
to throw his whole soul into the effort. At last, in obedience to
his will she made reply.
"All is dark. I hear lapping water, level with me, and some
creaking as of wood on wood." She paused, and the red sun shot up.
We must wait till tonight.
And so it is that we are travelling towards Galatz in an agony
of expectation. We are due to arrive between two and three in the
morning. But already, at Bucharest, we are three hours late, so we
cannot possibly get in till well after sunup. Thus we shall have
two more hypnotic messages from Mrs. Harker! Either or both may
possibly throw more light on what is happening.
Later.—Sunset has come and gone. Fortunately it came at a time
when there was no distraction. For had it occurred whilst we were
at a station, we might not have secured the necessary calm and
isolation. Mrs. Harker yielded to the hypnotic influence even less
readily than this morning. I am in fear that her power of readingreadily than this morning. I am in fear that her power of reading
the Count's sensations may die away, just when we want it most. It
seems to me that her imagination is beginning to work. Whilst she
has been in the trance hitherto she has confined herself to the
simplest of facts. If this goes on it may ultimately mislead us. If
I thought that the Count's power over her would die away equally
with her power of knowledge it would be a happy thought. But I am
afraid that it may not be so.
When she did speak, her words were enigmatical,"Something is
going out. I can feel it pass me like a cold wind. I can hear, far
off, confused sounds, as of men talking in strange tongues, fierce
falling water, and the howling of wolves." She stopped and a
shudder ran through her, increasing in intensity for a few seconds,
till at the end, she shook as though in a palsy. She said no more,
even in answer to the Professor's imperative questioning. When she
woke from the trance, she was cold, and exhausted, and languid, but
her mind was all alert. She could not remember anything, but asked
what she had said. When she was told, she pondered over it deeply
for a long time and in silence.
30 October, 7 a. m.—We are near Galatz now, and I may not have
time to write later. Sunrise this morning was anxiously looked for
by us all. Knowing of the increasing difficulty of procuring the
hypnotic trance, Van Helsing began his passes earlier than usual.
They produced no effect, however, until the regular time, when she
yielded with a still greater difficulty, only a minute before the
sun rose. The Professor lost no time in his questioning.
Her answer came with equal quickness, "All is dark. I hear water
swirling by, level with my ears, and the creaking of wood on wood.
Cattle low far off. There is another sound, a queer one like …
" She stopped and grew white, and whiter still.
"Go on, go on! Speak, I command you!" said Van Helsing in an
agonized voice. At the same time there was despair in his eyes, foragonized voice. At the same time there was despair in his eyes, for
the risen sun was reddening even Mrs. Harker's pale face. She
opened her eyes, and we all started as she said, sweetly and
seemingly with the utmost unconcern.
"Oh, Professor, why ask me to do what you know I can't? I don't
remember anything." Then, seeing the look of amazement on our
faces, she said, turning from one to the other with a troubled
look, "What have I said? What have I done? I know nothing, only
that I was lying here, half asleep, and heard you say `go on!
speak, I command you!' It seemed so funny to hear you order me
about, as if I were a bad child!"
"Oh, Madam Mina," he said, sadly, "it is proof, if proof be
needed, of how I love and honor you, when a word for your good,
spoken more earnest than ever, can seem so strange because it is to
order her whom I am proud to obey!"
The whistles are sounding. We are nearing Galatz. We are on fire
with anxiety and eagerness.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 October.—Mr. Morris took me to the hotel where our rooms had
been ordered by telegraph, he being the one who could best be
spared, since he does not speak any foreign language. The forces
were distributed much as they had been at Varna, except that Lord
Godalming went to the Vice Consul, as his rank might serve as an
immediate guarantee of some sort to the official, we being in
extreme hurry. Jonathan and the two doctors went to the shipping
agent to learn particulars of the arrival of the Czarina
Catherine.
Later.—Lord Godalming has returned. The Consul is away, and the
Vice Consul sick. So the routine work has been attended to by a
clerk. He was very obliging, and offered to do anything in his
power.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 October.—At nine o'clock Dr. Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, and I
called on Messrs. Mackenzie & Steinkoff, the agents of the
London firm of Hapgood. They had received a wire from London, in
answer to Lord Godalming's telegraphed request, asking them to show
us any civility in their power. They were more than kind and |
us any civility in their power. They were more than kind and
courteous, and took us at once on board the Czarina Catherine,
which lay at anchor out in the river harbor. There we saw the
Captain, Donelson by name, who told us of his voyage. He said that
in all his life he had never had so favorable a run.
"Man!" he said, "but it made us afeard, for we expect it that we
should have to pay for it wi' some rare piece o' ill luck, so as to
keep up the average. It's no canny to run frae London to the Black
Sea wi' a wind ahint ye, as though the Deil himself were blawin' on
yer sail for his ain purpose. An' a' the time we could no speer a
thing. Gin we were nigh a ship, or a port, or a headland, a fog
fell on us and travelled wi' us, till when after it had lifted and
we looked out, the deil a thing could we see. We ran by Gibraltar
wi' oot bein' able to signal. An' til we came to the Dardanelles
and had to wait to get our permit to pass, we never were within
hail o' aught. At first I inclined to slack off sail and beat about
till the fog was lifted. But whiles, I thocht that if the Deil was
minded to get us into the Black Sea quick, he was like to do it
whether we would or no. If we had a quick voyage it would be no to
our miscredit wi'the owners, or no hurt to our traffic, an' the Old
Mon who had served his ain purpose wad be decently grateful to us
for no hinderin' him."
This mixture of simplicity and cunning, of superstition and
commercial reasoning, aroused Van Helsing, who said,"Mine friend,
that Devil is more clever than he is thought by some, and he know
when he meet his match!"
The skipper was not displeased with the compliment, and went on,
"When we got past the Bosphorus the men began to grumble. Some o'
them, the Roumanians, came and asked me to heave overboard a big
box which had been put on board by a queer lookin' old man just
before we had started frae London. I had seen them speer at the
fellow, and put out their twa fingers when they saw him, to guardfellow, and put out their twa fingers when they saw him, to guard
them against the evil eye. Man! but the supersteetion of foreigners
is pairfectly rideeculous! I sent them aboot their business pretty
quick, but as just after a fog closed in on us I felt a wee bit as
they did anent something, though I wouldn't say it was again the
big box. Well, on we went, and as the fog didn't let up for five
days I joost let the wind carry us, for if the Deil wanted to get
somewheres, well, he would fetch it up a'reet. An' if he didn't,
well, we'd keep a sharp lookout anyhow. Sure eneuch, we had a fair
way and deep water all the time. And two days ago, when the mornin'
sun came through the fog, we found ourselves just in the river
opposite Galatz. The Roumanians were wild, and wanted me right or
wrong to take out the box and fling it in the river. I had to argy
wi' them aboot it wi' a handspike. An' when the last o' them rose
off the deck wi' his head in his hand, I had convinced them that,
evil eye or no evil eye, the property and the trust of my owners
were better in my hands than in the river Danube. They had, mind
ye, taken the box on the deck ready to fling in, and as it was
marked Galatz via Varna, I thocht I'd let it lie till we discharged
in the port an' get rid o't althegither. We didn't do much clearin'
that day, an' had to remain the nicht at anchor. But in the
mornin', braw an' airly, an hour before sunup, a man came aboard
wi' an order, written to him from England, to receive a box marked
for one Count Dracula. Sure eneuch the matter was one ready to his
hand. He had his papers a' reet, an' gla d I was to be rid o' the
dam' thing, for I was beginnin' masel' to feel uneasy at it. If the
Deil did have any luggage aboord the ship, I'm thinkin' it was nane
ither than that same!"
"What was the name of the man who took it?" asked Dr. Van
Helsing with restrained eagerness.
"I'll be tellin' ye quick!" he answered, and stepping down to
his cabin, produced a receipt signed "Immanuel Hildesheim."his cabin, produced a receipt signed "Immanuel Hildesheim."
Burgen-strasse 16 was the address. We found out that this was all
the Captain knew, so with thanks we came away.
We found Hildesheim in his office, a Hebrew of rather the
Adelphi Theatre type, with a nose like a sheep, and a fez. His
arguments were pointed with specie, we doing the punctuation, and
with a little bargaining he told us what he knew. This turned out
to be simple but important. He had received a letter from Mr. de
Ville of London, telling him to receive, if possible before sunrise
so as to avoid customs, a box which would arrive at Galatz in the
Czarina Catherine. This he was to give in charge to a certain
Petrof Skinsky, who dealt with the Slovaks who traded down the
river to the port. He had been paid for his work by an English bank
note, which had been duly cashed for gold at the Danube
International Bank. When Skinsky had come to him, he had taken him
to the ship and handed over the box, so as to save parterage. That
was all he knew.
We then sought for Skinsky, but were unable to find him. One of
his neighbors, who did not seem to bear him any affection, said
that he had gone away two days before,no one knew whither. This was
corroborated by his landlord, who had received by messenger the key
of the house together with the rent due, in English money. This had
been between ten and eleven o'clock last night. We were at a
standstill again.
Whilst we were talking one came running and breathlessly gasped
out that the body of Skinsky had been found inside the wall of the
churchyard of St. Peter, and that the throat had been torn open as
if by some wild animal. Those we had been speaking with ran off to
see the horror, the women crying out. "This is the work of a
Slovak!" We hurried away lest we should have been in some way drawn
into the affair, and so detained.
As we came home we could arrive at no definite conclusion. We
were all convinced that the box was on its way, by water, to |
were all convinced that the box was on its way, by water, to
somewhere, but where that might be we would have to discover. With
heavy hearts we came home to the hotel to Mina.
When we met together, the first thing was to consult as to
taking Mina again into our confidence. Things are getting
desperate, and it is at least a chance, though a hazardous one. As
a preliminary step, I was released from my promise to her.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 October, evening.—They were so tired and worn out and
dispirited that there was nothing to be done till they had some
rest, so I asked them all to lie down for half an hour whilst I
should enter everything up to the moment. I feel so grateful to the
man who invented the "Traveller's" typewriter, and to Mr. Morris
for getting this one for me. I should have felt quite astray doing
the work if I had to write with a pen …
It is all done. Poor dear, dear Jonathan, what he must have
suffered, what he must be suffering now. He lies on the sofa hardly
seeming to breathe, and his whole body appears in collapse. His
brows are knit. His face is drawn with pain. Poor fellow, maybe he
is thinking, and I can see his face all wrinkled up with the
concentration of his thoughts. Oh! if I could only help at all. I
shall do what I can.
I have asked Dr. Van Helsing, and he has got me all the papers
that I have not yet seen. Whilst they are resting, I shall go over
all carefully, and perhaps I may arrive at some conclusion. I shall
try to follow the Professor's example, and think without prejudice
on the facts before me …
I do believe that under God's providence I have made a
discovery. I shall get the maps and look over them.
I am more than ever sure that I am right. My new conclusion is
ready, so I shall get our party together and read it. They can
judge it. It is well to be accurate, and every minute is
precious.
MINA HARKER'S MEMORANDUM
(ENTERED IN HER JOURNAL)
Ground of inquiry.—Count Dracula's problem is to get back to his
own place.Ground of inquiry.—Count Dracula's problem is to get back to his
own place.
(a) He must be brought back by some one. This is evident. For
had he power to move himself as he wished he could go either as
man, or wolf, or bat, or in some other way. He evidently fears
discovery or interference, in the state of helplessness in which he
must be, confined as he is between dawn and sunset in his wooden
box.
(b) How is he to be taken?—Here a process of exclusions may help
us. By road, by rail, by water?
1. By Road.—There are endless difficulties, especially in
leaving the city.
(x) There are people. And people are curious, and investigate. A
hint, a surmise, a doubt as to what might be in the box, would
destroy him.
(y) There are, or there may be, customs and octroi officers to
pass.
(z) His pursuers might follow. This is his highest fear. And in
order to prevent his being betrayed he has repelled, so far as he
can, even his victim, me!
2. By Rail.—There is no one in charge of the box. It would have
to take its chance of being delayed, and delay would be fatal, with
enemies on the track. True, he might escape at night. But what
would he be, if left in a strange place with no refuge that he
could fly to? This is not what he intends, and he does not mean to
risk it.
3. By Water.—Here is the safest way, in one respect, but with
most danger in another. On the water he is powerless except at
night. Even then he can only summon fog and storm and snow and his
wolves. But were he wrecked, the living water would engulf him,
helpless, and he would indeed be lost. He could have the vessel
drive to land, but if it were unfriendly land, wherein he was not
free to move, his position would still be desperate.
We know from the record that he was on the water, so what we
have to do is to ascertain what water.
The first thing is to realize exactly what he has done as yet.
We may, then, get a light on what his task is to be.
Firstly.—We must differentiate between what he did in London asFirstly.—We must differentiate between what he did in London as
part of his general plan of action, when he was pressed for moments
and had to arrange as best he could.
Secondly we must see, as well as we can surmise it from the
facts we know of, what he has done here.
As to the first, he evidently intended to arrive at Galatz, and
sent invoice to Varna to deceive us lest we should ascertain his
means of exit from England. His immediate and sole purpose then was
to escape. The proof of this, is the letter of instructions sent to
Immanuel Hildesheim to clear and take away the box before sunrise.
There is also the instruction to Petrof Skinsky. These we must only
guess at, but there must have been some letter or message, since
Skinsky came to Hildesheim.
That, so far, his plans were successful we know. The Czarina
Catherine made a phenomenally quick journey. So much so that
Captain Donelson's suspicions were aroused. But his superstition
united with his canniness played the Count's game for him, and he
ran with his favoring wind through fogs and all till he brought up
blindfold at Galatz. That the Count's arrangements were well made,
has been proved. Hildesheim cleared the box, took it off, and gave
it to Skinsky. Skinsky took it, and here we lose the trail. We only
know that the box is somewhere on the water, moving along. The
customs and the octroi, if there be any, have been avoided.
Now we come to what the Count must have done after his arrival,
on land, at Galatz.
The box was given to Skinsky before sunrise. At sunrise the
Count could appear in his own form. Here, we ask why Skinsky was
chosen at all to aid in the work? In my husband's diary, Skinsky is
mentioned as dealing with the Slovaks who trade down the river to
the port. And the man's remark, that the murder was the work of a
Slovak, showed the general feeling against his class. The Count
wanted isolation.
My surmise is this, that in London the Count decided to get back
to his castle by water, as the most safe and secret way. He was |
to his castle by water, as the most safe and secret way. He was
brought from the castle by Szgany, and probably they delivered
their cargo to Slovaks who took the boxes to Varna, for there they
were shipped to London. Thus the Count had knowledge of the persons
who could arrange this service. When the box was on land, before
sunrise or after sunset, he came out from his box, met Skinsky and
instructed him what to do as to arranging the carriage of the box
up some river. When this was done, and he knew that all was in
train, he blotted out his traces, as he thought, by murdering his
agent.
I have examined the map and find that the river most suitable
for the Slovaks to have ascended is either the Pruth or the Sereth.
I read in the typescript that in my trance I heard cows low and
water swirling level with my ears and the creaking of wood. The
Count in his box, then, was on a river in an open boat, propelled
probably either by oars or poles, for the banks are near and it is
working against stream. There would be no such if floating down
stream.
Of course it may not be either the Sereth or the Pruth, but we
may possibly investigate further. Now of these two, the Pruth is
the more easily navigated, but the Sereth is, at Fundu, joined by
the Bistritza which runs up round the Borgo Pass. The loop it makes
is manifestly as close to Dracula's castle as can be got by
water.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL—CONTINUED
When I had done reading, Jonathan took me in his arms and kissed
me. The others kept shaking me by both hands, and Dr. Van Helsing
said, "Our dear Madam Mina is once more our teacher. Her eyes have
been where we were blinded. Now we are on the track once again, and
this time we may succeed. Our enemy is at his most helpless. And if
we can come on him by day, on the water, our task will be over. He
has a start, but he is powerless to hasten, as he may not leave
this box lest those who carry him may suspect. For them to suspect
would be to prompt them to throw him in the stream where he perish.would be to prompt them to throw him in the stream where he perish.
This he knows, and will not. Now men, to our Council of War, for
here and now, we must plan what each and all shall do."
"I shall get a steam launch and follow him," said Lord
Godalming.
"And I, horses to follow on the bank lest by chance he land,"
said Mr. Morris.
"Good!" said the Professor, "both good. But neither must go
alone. There must be force to overcome force if need be. The Slovak
is strong and rough, and he carries rude arms." All the men smiled,
for amongst them they carried a small arsenal.
Said Mr. Morris, "I have brought some Winchesters. They are
pretty handy in a crowd, and there may be wolves. The Count, if you
remember, took some other precautions. He made some requisitions on
others that Mrs. Harker could not quite hear or understand. We must
be ready at all points."
Dr. Seward said, "I think I had better go with Quincey. We have
been accustomed to hunt together, and we two, well armed, will be a
match for whatever may come along. You must not be alone, Art. It
may be necessary to fight the Slovaks, and a chance thrust, for I
don't suppose these fellows carry guns, would undo all our plans.
There must be no chances, this time. We shall not rest until the
Count's head and body have been separated, and we are sure that he
cannot reincarnate."
He looked at Jonathan as he spoke, and Jonathan looked at me. I
could see that the poor dear was torn about in his mind. Of course
he wanted to be with me. But then the boat service would, most
likely, be the one which would destroy the … the …
Vampire. (Why did I hesitate to write the word?)
He was silent awhile, and during his silence Dr. Van Helsing
spoke, "Friend Jonathan, this is to you for twice reasons. First,
because you are young and brave and can fight, and all energies may
be needed at the last. And again that it is your right to destroy
him. That, which has wrought such woe to you and yours. Be not
afraid for Madam Mina. She will be my care, if I may. I am old. Myafraid for Madam Mina. She will be my care, if I may. I am old. My
legs are not so quick to run as once. And I am not used to ride so
long or to pursue as need be, or to fight with lethal weapons. But
I can be of other service. I can fight in other way. And I can die,
if need be, as well as younger men. Now let me say that what I
would is this. While you, my Lord Godalming and friend Jonathan go
in your so swift little steamboat up the river, and whilst John and
Quincey guard the bank where perchance he might be landed, I will
take Madam Mina right into the heart of the enemy's country. Whilst
the old fox is tied in his box, floating on the running stream
whence he cannot escape to land, where he dares not raise the lid
of his coffin box lest his Slovak carriers should in fear leave him
to perish, we shall go in the track where Jonathan went, from
Bistritz over the Borgo, and find our way to the Castle of Dracula.
Here, Madam Mina's hypnotic power will surely help, and we shall
find our way, all dark and unknown otherwise, after the first
sunrise when we are near that fateful place. There is much to be
done, and other places to be made sanctify, so that that nest of
vipers be obliterated."
Here Jonathan interrupted him hotly, "Do you mean to say,
Professor Van Helsing, that you would bring Mina, in her sad case
and tainted as she is with that devil's illness, right into the
jaws of his deathtrap? Not for the world! Not for Heaven or
Hell!"
He became almost speechless for a minute, and then went on, "Do
you know what the place is? Have you seen that awful den of hellish
infamy, with the very moonlight alive with grisly shapes, and ever
speck of dust that whirls in the wind a devouring monster in
embryo? Have you felt the Vampire's lips upon your throat?"
Here he turned to me, and as his eyes lit on my forehead he
threw up his arms with a cry, "Oh, my God, what have we done to
have this terror upon us?" and he sank down on the sofa in a
collapse of misery. |
have this terror upon us?" and he sank down on the sofa in a
collapse of misery.
The Professor's voice, as he spoke in clear, sweet tones, which
seemed to vibrate in the air, calmed us all.
"Oh, my friend, it is because I would save Madam Mina from that
awful place that I would go. God forbid that I should take her into
that place. There is work, wild work, to be done before that place
can be purify. Remember that we are in terrible straits. If the
Count escape us this time, and he is strong and subtle and cunning,
he may choose to sleep him for a century, and then in time our dear
one," he took my hand, "would come to him to keep him company, and
would be as those others that you, Jonathan, saw. You have told us
of their gloating lips. You heard their ribald laugh as they
clutched the moving bag that the Count threw to them. You shudder,
and well may it be. Forgive me that I make you so much pain, but it
is necessary. My friend, is it not a dire need for that which I am
giving, possibly my life? If it, were that any one went into that
place to stay, it is I who would have to go to keep them
company."
"Do as you will," said Jonathan, with a sob that shook him all
over, "we are in the hands of God!"
Later.—Oh, it did me good to see the way that these brave men
worked. How can women help loving men when they are so earnest, and
so true, and so brave! And, too, it made me think of the wonderful
power of money! What can it not do when basely used. I felt so
thankful that Lord Godalming is rich, and both he and Mr. Morris,
who also has plenty of money, are willing to spend it so freely.
For if they did not, our little expedition could not start,either
so promptly or so well equipped, as it will within another hour. It
is not three hours since it was arranged what part each of us was
to do. And now Lord Godalming and Jonathan have a lovely steam
launch, with steam up ready to start at a moment's notice. Dr.
Seward and Mr. Morris have half a dozen good horses, wellSeward and Mr. Morris have half a dozen good horses, well
appointed. We have all the maps and appliances of various kinds
that can be had. Professor Van Helsing and I are to leave by the
11:40 train tonight for Veresti, where we are to get a carriage to
drive to the Borgo Pass. We are bringing a good deal of ready
money, as we are to buy a carriage and horses. We shall drive
ourselves, for we have no one whom we can trust in the matter. The
Professor knows something of a great many languages, so we shall
get on all right. We have all got arms, even for me a large bore
revolver. Jonathan would not be happy unless I was armed like the
rest. Alas! I cannot carry one arm that the rest do, the scar on my
forehead forbids that. Dear Dr. Van Helsing comforts me by telling
me that I am fully armed as there may be wolves. The weather is
getting colder every hour, and there are snow flurries which come
and go as warnings.
Later.—It took all my courage to say goodby to my darling. We
may never meet again. Courage, Mina! The Professor is looking at
you keenly. His look is a warning. There must be no tears now,
unless it may be that God will let them fall in gladness.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
30 October, night.—I am writing this in the light from the
furnace door of the steam launch. Lord Godalming is firing up. He
is an experienced hand at the work, as he has had for years a
launch of his own on the Thames, and another on the Norfolk Broads.
Regarding our plans, we finally decided that Mina's guess was
correct, and that if any waterway was chosen for the Count's escape
back to his Castle, the Sereth and then the Bistritza at its
junction, would be the one. We took it, that somewhere about the
47th degree, north latitude, would be the place chosen for crossing
the country between the river and the Carpathians. We have no fear
in running at good speed up the river at night. There is plenty of
water, and the banks are wide enough apart to make steaming, even
in the dark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells me to sleep for ain the dark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells me to sleep for a
while, as it is enough for the present for one to be on watch. But
I cannot sleep, how can I with the terrible danger hanging over my
darling, and her going out into that awful place …
My only comfort is that we are in the hands of God. Only for
that faith it would be easier to die than to live, and so be quit
of all the trouble. Mr. Morris and Dr. Seward were off on their
long ride before we started. They are to keep up the right bank,
far enough off to get on higher lands where they can see a good
stretch of river and avoid the following of its curves. They have,
for the first stages, two men to ride and lead their spare horses,
four in all, so as not to excite curiosity. When they dismiss the
men, which shall be shortly, they shall themselves look after the
horses. It may be necessary for us to join forces. If so they can
mount our whole party. One of the saddles has a moveable horn, and
can be easily adapted for Mina, if required.
It is a wild adventure we are on. Here, as we are rushing along
through the darkness, with the cold from the river seeming to rise
up and strike us, with all the mysterious voices of the night
around us, it all comes home. We seem to be drifting into unknown
places and unknown ways. Into a whole world of dark and dreadful
things. Godalming is shutting the furnace door …
31 October.—Still hurrying along. The day has come, and
Godalming is sleeping. I am on watch. The morning is bitterly cold,
the furnace heat is grateful, though we have heavy fur coats. As
yet we have passed only a few open boats, but none of them had on
board any box or package of anything like the size of the one we
seek. The men were scared every time we turned our electric lamp on
them, and fell on their knees and prayed.
1 November, evening.—No news all day. We have found nothing of
the kind we seek. We have now passed into the Bistritza, and if we
are wrong in our surmise our chance is gone. We have overhauled |
are wrong in our surmise our chance is gone. We have overhauled
every boat, big and little. Early this morning, one crew took us
for a Government boat, and treated us accordingly. We saw in this a
way of smoothing matters, so at Fundu,where the Bistritza runs into
the Sereth, we got a Roumanian flag which we now fly conspicuously.
With every boat which we have over-hauled since then this trick has
succeeded. We have had every deference shown to us, and not once
any objection to whatever we chose to ask or do. Some of the
Slovaks tell us that a big boat passed them, going at more than
usual speed as she had a double crew on board. This was before they
came to Fundu, so they could not tell us whether the boat turned
into the Bistritza or continued on up the Sereth. At Fundu we could
not hear of any such boat, so she must have passed there in the
night. I am feeling very sleepy. The cold is perhaps beginning to
tell upon me, and nature must have rest some time. Godalming
insists that he shall keep the first watch. God bless him for all
his goodness to poor dear Mina and me.
2 November, morning.—It is broad daylight. That good fellow
would not wake me. He says it would have been a sin to, for I slept
peacefully and was forgetting my trouble. It seems brutally selfish
to me to have slept so long, and let him watch all night, but he
was quite right. I am a new man this morning. And, as I sit here
and watch him sleeping, I can do all that is necessary both as to
minding the engine, steering, and keeping watch. I can feel that my
strength and energy are coming back to me. I wonder where Mina is
now, and Van Helsing. They should have got to Veresti about noon on
Wednesday. It would take them some time to get the carriage and
horses. So if they had started and travelled hard, they would be
about now at the Borgo Pass. God guide and help them! I am afraid
to think what may happen. If we could only go faster. But we
cannot. The engines are throbbing and doing their utmost. I wondercannot. The engines are throbbing and doing their utmost. I wonder
how Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris are getting on. There seem to be
endless streams running down the mountains into this river, but as
none of them are very large, at present, at all events, though they
are doubtless terrible in winter and when the snow melts, the
horsemen may not have met much obstruction. I hope that before we
get to Strasba we may see them. For if by that time we have not
overtaken the Count, it may be necessary to take counsel together
what to do next.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
2 November.—Three days on the road. No news, and no time to
write it if there had been, for every moment is precious. We have
had only the rest needful for the horses. But we are both bearing
it wonderfully. Those adventurous days of ours are turning up
useful. We must push on. We shall never feel happy till we get the
launch in sight again.
3 Novenber.—We heard at Fundu that the launch had gone up the
Bistritza. I wish it wasn't so cold. There are signs of snow
coming. And if it falls heavy it will stop us. In such case we must
get a sledge and go on, Russian fashion.
4 Novenber.—Today we heard of the launch having been detained by
an accident when trying to force a way up the rapids. The Slovak
boats get up all right, by aid of a rope and steering with
knowledge. Some went up only a few hours before. Godalming is an
amateur fitter himself, and evidently it was he who put the launch
in trim again.
Finally, they got up the rapids all right, with local help, and
are off on the chase afresh. I fear that the boat is not any better
for the accident, the peasantry tell us that after she got upon
smooth water again, she kept stopping every now and again so long
as she was in sight. We must push on harder than ever. Our help may
be wanted soon.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
31 October.—Arrived at Veresti at noon. The Professor tells me
that this morning at dawn he could hardly hypnotize me at all, and
that all I could say was, "dark and quiet." He is off now buying athat all I could say was, "dark and quiet." He is off now buying a
carriage and horses. He says that he will later on try to buy
additional horses, so that we may be able to change them on the
way. We have something more than 70 miles before us. The country is
lovely, and most interesting. If only we were under different
conditions, how delightful it would be to see it all. If Jonathan
and I were driving through it alone what a pleasure it would be. To
stop and see people, and learn something of their life, and to fill
our minds and memories with all the color and picturesqueness of
the whole wild, beautiful country and the quaint people! But,
alas!
Later.—Dr. Van Helsing has returned. He has got the carriage and
horses. We are to have some dinner, and to start in an hour. The
landlady is putting us up a huge basket of provisions. It seems
enough for a company of soldiers. The Professor encourages her, and
whispers to me that it may be a week before we can get any food
again. He has been shopping too, and has sent home such a wonderful
lot of fur coats and wraps, and all sorts of warm things. There
will not be any chance of our being cold.
We shall soon be off. I am afraid to think what may happen to
us. We are truly in the hands of God. He alone knows what may be,
and I pray Him, with all the strength of my sad and humble soul,
that He will watch over my beloved husband. That whatever may
happen, Jonathan may know that I loved him and honored him more
than I can say, and that my latest and truest thought will be
always for him. |
1 November.—All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed.
The horses seem to know that they are being kindly treated, for
they go willingly their full stage at best speed. We have now had
so many changes and find the same thing so constantly that we are
encouraged to think that the journey will be an easy one. Dr. Van
Helsing is laconic, he tells the farmers that he is hurrying to
Bistritz, and pays them well to make the exchange of horses. We get
hot soup, or coffee, or tea, and off we go. It is a lovely country.
Full of beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave,
and strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities. They are
very, very superstitious. In the first house where we stopped, when
the woman who served us saw the scar on my forehead, she crossed
herself and put out two fingers towards me, to keep off the evil
eye. I believe they went to the trouble of putting an extra amount
of garlic into our food, and I can't abide garlic. Ever since then
I have taken care not to take off my hat or veil, and so have
escaped their suspicions. We are travelling fast, and as we have no
driver with us to carry tales, we go ahead of scandal. But I
daresay that fear of the evil eye will follow hard behind us all
the way. The Professor seems tireless. All day he would not take
any rest, though he made me sleep for a long spell. At sunset time
he hypnotized me, and he says I answered as usual,"darkness,
lapping water and creaking wood." So our enemy is still on the
river. I am afraid to think of Jonathan, but somehow I have now no
fear for him, or for myself. I write this whilst we wait in a
farmhouse for the horses to be ready. Dr. Van Helsing is sleeping.
Poor dear, he looks very tired and old and grey, but his mouth is
set as firmly as a conqueror's. Even in his sleep he is intense
with resolution. When we have well started I must make him rest
whilst I drive. I shall tell him that we have days before us, and
he must not break down when most of all his strength will behe must not break down when most of all his strength will be
needed … All is ready. We are off shortly.
2 November, morning.—I was successful, and we took turns driving
all night. Now the day is on us, bright though cold. There is a
strange heaviness in the air. I say heaviness for want of a better
word. I mean that it oppresses us both. It is very cold, and only
our warm furs keep us comfortable. At dawn Van Helsing hypnotized
me. He says I answered "darkness, creaking wood and roaring water,"
so the river is changing as they ascend. I do hope that my darling
will not run any chance of danger, more than need be, but we are in
God's hands.
2 November, night.—All day long driving. The country gets wilder
as we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti
seemed so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather
round us and tower in front. We both seem in good spirits. I think
we make an effort each to cheer the other, in the doing so we cheer
ourselves. Dr. Van Helsing says that by morning we shall reach the
Borgo Pass. The houses are very few here now, and the Professor
says that the last horse we got will have to go on with us, as we
may not be able to change. He got two in addition to the two we
changed, so that now we have a rude four-in-hand. The dear horses
are patient and good, and they give us no trouble. We are not
worried with other travellers, and so even I can drive. We shall
get to the Pass in daylight. We do not want to arrive before. So we
take it easy, and have each a long rest in turn. Oh, what will
tomorrow bring to us? We go to seek the place where my poor darling
suffered so much. God grant that we may be guided aright, and that
He will deign to watch over my husband and those dear to us both,
and who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I am not worthy in His
sight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and shall be until He may
deign to let me stand forth in His sight as one of those who have
not incurred His wrath.
MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSINGnot incurred His wrath.
MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING
4 November.—This to my old and true friend John Seward, M. D.,
of Purefleet, London, in case I may not see him. It may explain. It
is morning, and I write by a fire which all the night I have kept
alive, Madam Mina aiding me. It is cold, cold. So cold that the
grey heavy sky is full of snow, which when it falls will settle for
all winter as the ground is hardening to receive it. It seems to
have affected Madam Mina. She has been so heavy of head all day
that she was not like herself. She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps!
She who is usual so alert, have done literally nothing all the day.
She even have lost her appetite. She make no entry into her little
diary, she who write so faithful at every pause. Something whisper
to me that all is not well. However, tonight she is more vif. Her
long sleep all day have refresh and restore her, for now she is all
sweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try to hypnotize her, but
alas! with no effect. The power has grown less and less with each
day, and tonight it fail me altogether. Well, God's will be done,
whatever it may be, and whithersoever it may lead!
Now to the historical, for as Madam Mina write not in her
stenography, I must, in my cumbrous old fashion, that so each day
of us may not go unrecorded.
We got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday morning.
When I saw the signs of the dawn I got ready for the hypnotism. We
stopped our carriage, and got down so that there might be no
disturbance. I made a couch with furs, and Madam Mina, lying down,
yield herself as usual, but more slow and more short time than
ever, to the hypnotic sleep. As before, came the answer, "darkness
and the swirling of water." Then she woke, bright and radiant and
we go on our way and soon reach the Pass. At this time and place,
she become all on fire with zeal. Some new guiding power be in her
manifested, for she point to a road and say, "This is the way."
"How know you it?" I ask. |
manifested, for she point to a road and say, "This is the way."
"How know you it?" I ask.
"Of course I know it,' she answer, and with a pause, add, "Have
not my Jonathan travelled it and wrote of his travel?"
At first I think somewhat strange, but soon I see that there be
only one such byroad. It is used but little, and very different
from the coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz, which is more
wide and hard, and more of use.
So we came down this road. When we meet other ways, not always
were we sure that they were roads at all, for they be neglect and
light snow have fallen, the horses know and they only. I give rein
to them, and they go on so patient. By and by we find all the
things which Jonathan have note in that wonderful diary of him.
Then we go on for long, long hours and hours. At the first, I tell
Madam Mina to sleep. She try, and she succeed. She sleep all the
time, till at the last, I feel myself to suspicious grow, and
attempt to wake her. But she sleep on, and I may not wake her
though I try. I do not wish to try too hard lest I harm her. For I
know that she have suffer much, and sleep at times be all-in-all to
her. I think I drowse myself, for all of sudden I feel guilt, as
though I have done something. I find myself bolt up, with the reins
in my hand, and the good horses go along jog, jog, just as ever. I
look down and find Madam Mina still asleep. It is now not far off
sunset time, and over the snow the light of the sun flow in big
yellow flood, so that we throw great long shadow on where the
mountain rise so steep. For we are going up, and up, and all is oh,
so wild and rocky, as though it were the end of the world.
Then I arouse Madam Mina. This time she wake with not much
trouble, and then I try to put her to hypnotic sleep. But she sleep
not, being as though I were not. Still I try and try, till all at
once I find her and myself in dark, so I look round, and find that
the sun have gone down. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn and look atthe sun have gone down. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn and look at
her. She is now quite awake, and look so well as I never saw her
since that night at Carfax when we first enter the Count's house. I
am amaze, and not at ease then. But she is so bright and tender and
thoughtful for me that I forget all fear. I light a fire, for we
have brought supply of wood with us, and she prepare food while I
undo the horses and set them, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then
when I return to the fire she have my supper ready. I go to help
her, but she smile, and tell me that she have eat already. That she
was so hungry that she would not wait. I like it not, and I have
grave doubts. But I fear to affright her, and so I am silent of it.
She help me and I eat alone, and then we wrap in fur and lie beside
the fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch. But presently I
forget all of watching. And when I sudden remember that I watch, I
find her lying quiet, but awake, and looking at me with so bright
eyes. Once, twice more the same occur, and I get much sleep till
before morning. When I wake I try to hypnotize her, but alas!
Though she shut her eyes obedient, she may not sleep. The sun rise
up, and up, and up, and then sleep come to her too late, but so
heavy that she will not wake. I have to lift her up, and place her
sleeping in the carriage when I have harnessed the horses and made
all ready. Madam still sleep, and she look in her sleep more
healthy and more redder than before. And I like it not. And I am
afraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things, even to think
but I must go on my way. The stake we play for is life and death,
or more than these, and we must not flinch.
5 November, morning.—Let me be accurate in everything, for
though you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at
the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors
and the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.
All yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the mountains,All yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the mountains,
and moving into a more and more wild and desert land. There are
great, frowning precipices and much falling water, and Nature seem
to have held sometime her carnival. Madam Mina still sleep and
sleep. And though I did have hunger and appeased it, I could not
waken her, even for food. I began to fear that the fatal spell of
the place was upon her, tainted as she is with that Vampire
baptism. "Well," said I to myself, "if it be that she sleep all the
day, it shall also be that I do not sleep at night." As we travel
on the rough road, for a road of an ancient and imperfect kind
there was, I held down my head and slept.
Again I waked with a sense of guilt and of time passed, and
found Madam Mina still sleeping, and the sun low down. But all was
indeed changed. The frowning mountains seemed further away, and we
were near the top of a steep rising hill, on summit of which was
such a castle as Jonathan tell of in his diary. At once I exulted
and feared. For now, for good or ill, the end was near.
I woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hypnotize her, but alas!
unavailing till too late. Then, ere the great dark came upon us,
for even after down sun the heavens reflected the gone sun on the
snow, and all was for a time in a great twilight. I took out the
horses and fed them in what shelter I could. Then I make a fire,
and near it I make Madam Mina, now awake and more charming than
ever, sit comfortable amid her rugs. I got ready food, but she
would not eat, simply saying that she had not hunger. I did not
press her, knowing her unavailingness. But I myself eat, for I must
needs now be strong for all. Then, with the fear on me of what
might be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam
Mina sat. And over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke
it fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time,
so still as one dead. And she grew whiter and even whiter till the |
so still as one dead. And she grew whiter and even whiter till the
snow was not more pale, and no word she said. But when I drew near,
she clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from
head to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel.
I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet, "Will
you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make a test of what
she could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she
stopped, and stood as one stricken.
"Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and coming back,
sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of
one waked from sleep, she said simply,"I cannot!" and remained
silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of
those that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her
body, yet her soul was safe!
Presently the horses began to scream, and tore at their tethers
till I came to them and quieted them. When they did feel my hands
on them, they whinnied low as in joy,and licked at my hands and
were quiet for a time. Many times through the night did I come to
them, till it arrive to the cold hour when all nature is at lowest,
and every time my coming was with quiet of them. In the cold hour
the fire began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish
it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a chill
mist. Even in the dark there was a light of some kind, as there
ever is over snow, and it seemed as though the snow flurries and
the wreaths of mist took shape as of women with trailing garments.
All was in dead, grim silence only that the horses whinnied and
cowered, as if in terror of the worst. I began to fear, horrible
fears. But then came to me the sense of safety in that ring wherein
I stood. I began too, to think that my imaginings were of the
night, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and
all the terrible anxiety. It was as though my memories of all
Jonathan's horrid experience were befooling me. For the snow flakesJonathan's horrid experience were befooling me. For the snow flakes
and the mist began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as
though a shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him.
And then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror
as men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so
that they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when
these weird figures drew near and circled round. I looked at her,
but she sat calm, and smiled at me. When I would have stepped to
the fire to replenish it, she caught me and held me back, and
whispered, like a voice that one hears in a dream, so low it
was.
"No! No! Do not go without. Here you are safe!"
I turned to her, and looking in her eyes said, "But you? It is
for you that I fear!"
Whereat she laughed, a laugh low and unreal, and said, "Fear for
me! Why fear for me? None safer in all the world from them than I
am,"and as I wondered at the meaning of her words, a puff of wind
made the flame leap up, and I see the red scar on her forehead.
Then, alas! I knew. Did I not, I would soon have learned, for the
wheeling figures of mist and snow came closer, but keeping ever
without the Holy circle. Then they began to materialize till, if
God have not taken away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes.
There were before me in actual flesh the same three women that
Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat. I
knew the swaying round forms, the bright hard eyes, the white
teeth, the ruddy color, the voluptuous lips. They smiled ever at
poor dear Madam Mina. And as their laugh came through the silence
of the night, they twined their arms and pointed to her, and said
in those so sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the
intolerable sweetness of the water glasses, "Come, sister. Come to
us. Come!"
In fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, and my heart with
gladness leapt like flame. For oh! the terror in her sweet eyes,
the repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart that was all ofthe repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart that was all of
hope. God be thanked she was not, yet of them. I seized some of the
firewood which was by me, and holding out some of the Wafer,
advanced on them towards the fire. They drew back before me, and
laughed their low horrid laugh. I fed the fire, and feared them
not. For I knew that we were safe within the ring, which she could
not leave no more than they could enter. The horses had ceased to
moan, and lay still on the ground. The snow fell on them softly,
and they grew whiter. I knew that there was for the poor beasts no
more of terror.
And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall
through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe
and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon
life was to me again. At the first coming of the dawn the horrid
figures melted in the whirling mist and snow. The wreaths of
transparent gloom moved away towards the castle, and were lost.
Instinctively, with the dawn coming, I turned to Madam Mina,
intending to hypnotize her. But she lay in a deep and sudden sleep,
from which I could not wake her. I tried to hypnotize through her
sleep, but she made no response, none at all, and the day broke. I
fear yet to stir. I have made my fire and have seen the horses,
they are all dead. Today I have much to do here, and I keep waiting
till the sun is up high. For there may be places where I must go,
where that sunlight, though snow and mist obscure it, will be to me
a safety.
I will strengthen me with breakfast, and then I will do my
terrible work. Madam Mina still sleeps, and God be thanked! She is
calm in her sleep …
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
4 November, evening.—The accident to the launch has been a
terrible thing for us. Only for it we should have overtaken the
boat long ago, and by now my dear Mina would have been free. I fear
to think of her, off on the wolds near that horrid place. We have
got horses, and we follow on the track. I note this whilst |
got horses, and we follow on the track. I note this whilst
Godalming is getting ready. We have our arms. The Szgany must look
out if they mean to fight. Oh, if only Morris and Seward were with
us. We must only hope! If I write no more Goodby Mina! God bless
and keep you.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
5 November.—With the dawn we saw the body of Szgany before us
dashing away from the river with their leiter wagon. They
surrounded it in a cluster, and hurried along as though beset. The
snow is falling lightly and there is a strange excitement in the
air. It may be our own feelings, but the depression is strange. Far
off I hear the howling of wolves. The snow brings them down from
the mountains, and there are dangers to all of us, and from all
sides. The horses are nearly ready, and we are soon off. We ride to
death of some one. God alone knows who, or where, or what, or when,
or how it may be …
DR. VAN HELSING'S MEMORANDUM
5 November, afternoon.—I am at least sane. Thank God for that
mercy at all events, though the proving it has been dreadful. When
I left Madam Mina sleeping within the Holy circle, I took my way to
the castle. The blacksmith hammer which I took in the carriage from
Veresti was useful, though the doors were all open I broke them off
the rusty hinges, lest some ill intent or ill chance should close
them, so that being entered I might not get out. Jonathan's bitter
experience served me here. By memory of his diary I found my way to
the old chapel, for I knew that here my work lay. The air was
oppressive. It seemed as if there was some sulphurous fume, which
at times made me dizzy. Either there was a roaring in my ears or I
heard afar off the howl of wolves. Then I bethought me of my dear
Madam Mina, and I was in terrible plight. The dilemma had me
between his horns.
Her, I had not dare to take into this place, but left safe from
the Vampire in that Holy circle. And yet even there would be the
wolf! I resolve me that my work lay here, and that as to the wolveswolf! I resolve me that my work lay here, and that as to the wolves
we must submit, if it were God's will. At any rate it was only
death and freedom beyond. So did I choose for her. Had it but been
for myself the choice had been easy, the maw of the wolf were
better to rest in than the grave of the Vampire! So I make my
choice to go on with my work.
I knew that there were at least three graves to find, graves
that are inhabit. So I search, and search, and I find one of them.
She lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and voluptuous beauty
that I shudder as though I have come to do murder. Ah, I doubt not
that in the old time, when such things were, many a man who set
forth to do such a task as mine, found at the last his heart fail
him, and then his nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till
the mere beauty and the fascination of the wanton Undead have
hypnotize him. And he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the
Vampire sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman
open and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss, and
the man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the Vampire
fold. One more to swell the grim and grisly ranks of the
Undead! …
There is some fascination, surely, when I am moved by the mere
presence of such an one, even lying as she lay in a tomb fretted
with age and heavy with the dust of centuries, though there be that
horrid odor such as the lairs of the Count have had. Yes, I was
moved. I, Van Helsing, with all my purpose and with my motive for
hate. I was moved to a yearning for delay which seemed to paralyze
my faculties and to clog my very soul. It may have been that the
need of natural sleep, and the strange oppression of the air were
beginning to overcome me. Certain it was that I was lapsing into
sleep, the open eyed sleep of one who yields to a sweet
fascination, when there came through the snow stilled air a long,
low wail, so full of woe and pity that it woke me like the sound of
a clarion. For it was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that Ia clarion. For it was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that I
heard.
Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by
wrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark
one. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, lest
once more I should begin to be enthrall. But I go on searching
until, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if made to one
much beloved that other fair sister which, like Jonathan I had seen
to gather herself out of the atoms of the mist. She was so fair to
look on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous, that
the very instinct of man in me, which calls some of my sex to love
and to protect one of hers, made my head whirl with new emotion.
But God be thanked, that soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not
died out of my ears. And, before the spell could be wrought further
upon me, I had nerved myself to my wild work. By this tim e I had
searched all the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tell. And
as there had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in
the night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead
existent. There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest.
Huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word.
DRACULA
This then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom so
many more were due. Its emptiness spoke eloquent to make certain
what I knew. Before I began to restore these women to their dead
selves through my awful work, I laid in Dracula's tomb some of the
Wafer, and so banished him from it, Undead, for ever.
Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had it been but
one, it had been easy, comparative. But three! To begin twice more
after I had been through a deed of horror. For it was terrible with
the sweet Miss Lucy, what would it not be with these strange ones
who had survived through centuries, and who had been strenghtened
by the passing of the years. Who would, if they could, have fought
for their foul lives …
Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not been |
for their foul lives …
Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not been
nerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living over whom hung
such a pall of fear, I could not have gone on. I tremble and
tremble even yet, though till all was over, God be thanked, my
nerve did stand. Had I not seen the repose in the first place, and
the gladness that stole over it just ere the final dissolution
came, as realization that the soul had been won, I could not have
gone further with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid
screeching as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form,
and lips of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my
work undone. But it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them
now and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of
death for a short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly had
my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to
melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death
that should have come centuries agone had at last assert himself
and say at once and loud,"I am here!"
Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never
more can the Count enter there Undead.
When I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she woke
from her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that I had endured
too much.
"Come!" she said, "come away from this awful place! Let us go to
meet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us." She was looking
thin and pale and weak. But her eyes were pure and glowed with
fervor. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind
was full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep.
And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go eastward
to meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell me that she know
are coming to meet us.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
6 November.—It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and
I took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was coming.
We did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for w eWe did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for w e
had to take heavy rugs and wraps with us. We dared not face the
possibility of being left without warmth in the cold and the snow.
We had to take some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect
desolation, and so far as we could see through the snowfall, there
was not even the sign of habitation. When we had gone about a mile,
I was tired with the heavy walking and sat down to rest. Then we
looked back and saw where the clear line of Dracula's castle cut
the sky. For we were so deep under the hill whereon it was set that
the angle of perspective of the Carpathian mountains was far below
it. We saw it in all its grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the
summit of a sheer precipice, and with seemingly a great gap between
it and the steep of the adjacent mountain on any side. There was
something wild and uncanny about the place. We could hear the
distant howling of wolves. They were far off, but the sound, even
though coming muffled through the deadening snowfall, was full of
terror. I knew from the way Dr. Van Helsing was searching about
that he was trying to seek some strategic point, where we would be
less exposed in case of attack. The rough roadway still led
downwards. We could trace it through the drifted snow.
In a little while the Professor signalled to me, so I got up and
joined him. He had found a wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow
in a rock, with an entrance like a doorway between two boulders. He
took me by the hand and drew me in.
"See!" he said,"here you will be in shelter. And if the wolves
do come I can meet them one by one."
He brought in our furs, and made a snug nest for me, and got out
some provisions and forced them upon me. But I could not eat, to
even try to do so was repulsive to me, and much as I would have
liked to please him, I could not bring myself to the attempt. He
looked very sad, but did not reproach me. Taking his field glasses
from the case, he stood on the top of the rock, and began to search
the horizon.from the case, he stood on the top of the rock, and began to search
the horizon.
Suddenly he called out, "Look! Madam Mina, look!Look!"
I sprang up and stood beside him on the rock. He handed me his
glasses and pointed. The snow was now falling more heavily, and
swirled about fiercely, for a high wind was beginning to blow.
However, there were times when there were pauses between the snow
flurries and I could see a long way round. From the height where we
were it was possible to see a great distance. And far off, beyond
the white waste of snow, I could see the river lying like a black
ribbon in kinks and curls as it wound its way. Straight in front of
us and not far off, in fact so near that I wondered we had not
noticed before, came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the
midst of them was a cart, a long leiter wagon which swept from side
to side, like a dog's tail wagging, with each stern inequality of
the road. Outlined against the snow as they were, I could see from
the men's clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some
kind.
On the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw
it, for I felt that the end was coming. The evening was now drawing
close, and well I knew that at sunset the Thing, which was till
then imprisoned there, would take new freedom and could in any of
many forms elude pursuit. In fear I turned to the Professor. To my
consternation, however, he was not there. An instant later, I saw
him below me. Round the rock he had drawn a circle, such as we had
found shelter in last night.
When he had completed it he stood beside me again saying, "At
least you shall be safe here from him!" He took the glasses from
me, and at the next lull of the snow swept the whole space below
us. "See,"he said,"they come quickly. They are flogging the horses,
and galloping as hard as they can."
He paused and went on in a hollow voice, "They are racing for
the sunset. We may be too late. God's will be done!" Down came
another blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was |
another blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was
blotted out. It soon passed, however, and once more his glasses
were fixed on the plain.
Then came a sudden cry, "Look! Look! Look! See, two horsemen
follow fast, coming up from the south. It must be Quincey and John.
Take the glass. Look before the snow blots it all out!" I took it
and looked. The two men might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. I knew
at all events that neither of them was Jonathan. At the same time I
knew that Jonathan was not far off. Looking around I saw on the
north side of the coming party two other men, riding at breakneck
speed. One of them I knew was Jonathan, and the other I took, of
course, to be Lord Godalming. They too, were pursuing the party
with the cart. When I told the Professor he shouted in glee like a
schoolboy, and after looking intently till a snow fall made sight
impossible, he laid his Winchester rifle ready for use against the
boulder at the opening of our shelter.
"They are all converging," he said."When the time comes we shall
have gypsies on all sides." I got out my revolver ready to hand,
for whilst we were speaking the howling of wolves came louder and
closer. When the snow storm abated a moment we looked again. It was
strange to see the snow falling in such heavy flakes close to us,
and beyond, the sun shining more and more brightly as it sank down
towards the far mountain tops. Sweeping the glass all around us I
could see here and there dots moving singly and in twos and threes
and larger numbers. The wolves were gathering for their prey.
Every instant seemed an age whilst we waited. The wind came now
in fierce bursts, and the snow was driven with fury as it swept
upon us in circling eddies. At times we could not see an arm's
length before us. But at others, as the hollow sounding wind swept
by us, it seemed to clear the air space around us so that we could
see afar off. We had of late been so accustomed to watch for
sunrise and sunset, that we knew with fair accuracy when it wouldsunrise and sunset, that we knew with fair accuracy when it would
be. And we knew that before long the sun would set. It was hard to
believe that by our watches it was less than an hour that we waited
in that rocky shelter before the various bodies began to converge
close upon us. The wind came now with fiercer and more bitter
sweeps, and more steadily from the north. It seemingly had driven
the snow clouds from us, for with only occasional bursts, the snow
fell. We could distinguish clearly the individuals of each party,
the pursued and the pursuers. Strangely enough those pursued did
not seem to realize, or at least to care, that they were pursued.
They seemed, however, to hasten with redoubled speed as the sun
dropped lower and lower on the mountain tops.
Closer and closer they drew. The Professor and I crouched down
behind our rock, and held our weapons ready. I could see that he
was determined that they should not pass. One and all were quite
unaware of our presence.
All at once two voices shouted out to, "Halt!" One was my
Jonathan's, raised in a high key of passion. The other Mr. Morris'
strong resolute tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have
known the language, but there was no mistaking the tone, in
whatever tongue the words were spoken. Instinctively they reined
in, and at the instant Lord Godalming and Jonathan dashed up at one
side and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris on the other. The leader of the
gypsies, a splendid looking fellow who sat his horse like a
centaur, waved them back, and in a fierce voice gave to his
companions some word to proceed. They lashed the horses which
sprang forward. But the four men raised their Winchester rifles,
and in an unmistakable way commanded them to stop. At the same
moment Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and pointed our
weapons at them. Seeing that they were surrounded the men tightened
their reins and drew up. The leader turned to them and gave a word
at which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he carried,at which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he carried,
knife or pistol,and held himself in readiness to attack. Issue was
joined in an instant.
The leader, with a quick movement of his rein, threw his horse
out in front, and pointed first to the sun, now close down on the
hill tops, and then to the castle, said something which I did not
understand. For answer, all four men of our party threw themselves
from their horses and dashed towards the cart. I should have felt
terrible fear at seeing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ardor
of battle must have been upon me as well as the rest of them. I
felt no fear, but only a wild, surging desire to do something.
Seeing the quick movement of our parties, the leader of the gypsies
gave a command. His men instantly formed round the cart in a sort
of undisciplined endeavor, each one shouldering and pushing the
other in his eagerness to carry out the order.
In the midst of this I could see that Jonathan on one side of
the ring of men, and Quincey on the other, were forcing a way to
the cart. It was evident that they were bent on finishing their
task before the sun should set. Nothing seemed to stop or even to
hinder them.Neither the levelled weapons nor the flashing knives of
the gypsies in front, nor the howling of the wolves behind,
appeared to even attract their attention. Jonathan's impetuosity,
and the manifest singleness of his purpose, seemed to overawe those
in front of him. Instinctively they cowered aside and let him pass.
In an instant he had jumped upon the cart, and with a strength
which seemed incredible, raised the great box, and flung it over
the wheel to the ground. In the meantime, Mr. Morris had had to use
force to pass through his side of the ring of Szgany. All the time
I had been breathlessly watching Jonathan I had, with the tail of
my eye, seen him pressing desperately forward, and had seen the
knives of the gypsies flash as he won a way through them, and they
cut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and at first |
cut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and at first
I thought that he too had come through in safety. But as he sprang
beside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could see
that with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and that the
blood was spurting through his fingers. He did not delay
notwithstanding this, for as Jonathan, with desperate energy,
attacked one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with
his great Kukri knife, he attacked the other frantically with his
bowie. Under the efforts of both men the lid began to yield. The
nails drew with a screeching sound, and the top of the box was
thrown back.
By this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the
Winchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had
given in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on
the mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the
snow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of
which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was
deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with
the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.
As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate
in them turned to triumph.
But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan's
great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat.
Whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris's bowie knife plunged into the
heart.
It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in
the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and
passed from our sight.
I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of
final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I
never could have imagined might have rested there.
The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and
every stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the
light of the setting sun.
The gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of thelight of the setting sun.
The gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of the
extraordinary disappearance of the dead man, turned, without a
word, and rode away as if for their lives. Those who were unmounted
jumped upon the leiter wagon and shouted to the horsemen not to
desert them. The wolves, which had withdrawn to a safe distance,
followed in their wake, leaving us alone.
Mr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground, leaned on his elbow,
holding his hand pressed to his side. The blood still gushed
through his fingers. I flew to him, for the Holy circle did not now
keep me back, so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and
the wounded man laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he
took, with a feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was
unstained.
He must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he
smiled at me and said, "I am only too happy to have been of
service! Oh, God!" he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting
posture and pointing to me. "It was worth for this to die! Look!
Look!"
The sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red
gleams fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With
one impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest
"Amen" broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his
finger.
The dying man spoke, "Now God be thanked that all has not been
in vain! See! The snow is not more stainless than her forehead! The
curse has passed away!"
And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died,
a gallant gentleman.
NOTE
Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the
happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the
pain we endured. It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our
boy's birthday is the same day as that on which Quincey Morris
died. His mother holds, I know, the secret belief that some of our
brave friend's spirit has passed into him. His bundle of names
links all our little band of men together. But we call him
Quincey.links all our little band of men together. But we call him
Quincey.
In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania,
and went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of
vivid and terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe
that the things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with
our own ears were living truths. Every trace of all that had been
was blotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a
waste of desolation.
When we got home we were talking of the old time, which we could
all look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both
happily married. I took the papers from the safe where they had
been ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the
fact, that in all the mass of material of which the record is
composed, there is hardly one authentic document. Nothing but a
mass of typewriting, except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward
and myself, and Van Helsing's memorandum. We could hardly ask any
one, even did we wish to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a
story. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his
knee.
"We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will
some day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already
he knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand
how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her
sake.
JONATHAN HARKER |
Beyond a bare, weather-worn wall, about a hundred paces from the
spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as they drank
their wine, was the village of the Catalans. Long ago this
mysterious colony quitted Spain, and settled on the tongue of land
on which it is to this day. Whence it came no one knew, and it
spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, who understood
Provencal, begged the commune of Marseilles to give them this bare
and barren promontory, where, like the sailors of old, they had run
their boats ashore. The request was granted; and three months
afterwards, around the twelve or fifteen small vessels which had
brought these gypsies of the sea, a small village sprang up. This
village, constructed in a singular and picturesque manner, half
Moorish, half Spanish, still remains, and is inhabited by
descendants of the first comers, who speak the language of their
fathers. For three or four centuries they have remained upon this
small promontory, on which they had settled like a flight of
seabirds, without mixing with the Marseillaise population,
intermarrying, and preserving their original customs and the
costume of their mother-country as they have preserved its
language.
Our readers will follow us along the only street of this little
village, and enter with us one of the houses, which is sunburned to
the beautiful dead-leaf color peculiar to the buildings of the
country, and within coated with whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A
young and beautiful girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as
velvety as the gazelle's, was leaning with her back against the
wainscot, rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch
of heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and
strewing on the floor; her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, and
modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a kind of
restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with her arched and
supple foot, so as to display the pure and full shape of her
well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked,well-turned leg, in its red cotton, gray and blue clocked,
stocking. At three paces from her, seated in a chair which he
balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow on an old worm-eaten table,
was a tall young man of twenty, or two-and-twenty, who was looking
at her with an air in which vexation and uneasiness were mingled.
He questioned her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of
the young girl controlled his look.
"You see, Mercedes," said the young man, "here is Easter come
round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?"
"I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you
must be very stupid to ask me again."
"Well, repeat it, — repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last
believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love,
which had your mother's sanction. Make me understand once for all
that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are
nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your
husband, Mercedes, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay
of my existence!"
"At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope,
Fernand," replied Mercedes; "you cannot reproach me with the
slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, `I love you as a
brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for
my heart is another's.' Is not this true, Fernand?"
"Yes, that is very true, Mercedes," replied the young man, "Yes,
you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is
among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?"
"You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom,
and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are
included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on
sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms.
Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn,
without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few
ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to myragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my
mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you
know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity.
Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to
share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it,
Fernand, because you are the son of my father's brother, because we
were brought up together, and still more because it would give you
so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very deeply that this fish
which I go and sell, and with the produce of which I buy the flax I
spin, — I feel very keenly, Fernand, that this is charity."
"And if it were, Mercedes, poor and lone as you are, you suit me
as well as the daughter of the first shipowner or the richest
banker of Marseilles! What do such as we desire but a good wife and
careful housekeeper, and where can I look for these better than in
you?"
"Fernand," answered Mercedes, shaking her head, "a woman becomes
a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an honest woman,
when she loves another man better than her husband? Rest content
with my friendship, for I say once more that is all I can promise,
and I will promise no more than I can bestow."
"I understand," replied Fernand, "you can endure your own
wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. Well,
Mercedes, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune; you would bring me
good luck, and I should become rich. I could extend my occupation
as a fisherman, might get a place as clerk in a warehouse, and
become in time a dealer myself."
"You could do no such thing, Fernand; you are a soldier, and if
you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war; so remain
a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as I cannot give you
more."
"Well, I will do better, Mercedes. I will be a sailor; instead
of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I will wear a
varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue jacket, with an anchor
on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?" |
on the buttons. Would not that dress please you?"
"What do you mean?" asked Mercedes, with an angry glance, —
"what do you mean? I do not understand you?"
"I mean, Mercedes, that you are thus harsh and cruel with me,
because you are expecting some one who is thus attired; but perhaps
he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is not, the sea is so to
him."
"Fernand," cried Mercedes, "I believed you were good-hearted,
and I was mistaken! Fernand, you are wicked to call to your aid
jealousy and the anger of God! Yes, I will not deny it, I do await,
and I do love him of whom you speak; and, if he does not return,
instead of accusing him of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I
will tell you that he died loving me and me only." The young girl
made a gesture of rage. "I understand you, Fernand; you would be
revenged on him because I do not love you; you would cross your
Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that answer? To lose
you my friendship if he were conquered, and see that friendship
changed into hate if you were victor. Believe me, to seek a quarrel
with a man is a bad method of pleasing the woman who loves that
man. No, Fernand, you will not thus give way to evil thoughts.
Unable to have me for your wife, you will content yourself with
having me for your friend and sister; and besides," she added, her
eyes troubled and moistened with tears, "wait, wait, Fernand; you
said just now that the sea was treacherous, and he has been gone
four months, and during these four months there have been some
terrible storms."
Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears
which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes, although for each of
these tears he would have shed his heart's blood; but these tears
flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up and down the hut,
and then, suddenly stopping before Mercedes, with his eyes glowing
and his hands clinched, — "Say, Mercedes," he said, "once for all,
is this your final determination?"
"I love Edmond Dantes," the young girl calmly replied, "and noneis this your final determination?"
"I love Edmond Dantes," the young girl calmly replied, "and none
but Edmond shall ever be my husband."
"And you will always love him?"
"As long as I live."
Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh
that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in the
face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said, — "But if he
is dead" —
"If he is dead, I shall die too."
"If he has forgotten you" —
"Mercedes!" called a joyous voice from without, —
"Mercedes!"
"Ah," exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and
fairly leaping in excess of love, "you see he has not forgotten me,
for here he is!" And rushing towards the door, she opened it,
saying, "Here, Edmond, here I am!"
Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at the
sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. Edmond and
Mercedes were clasped in each other's arms. The burning Marseilles
sun, which shot into the room through the open door, covered them
with a flood of light. At first they saw nothing around them. Their
intense happiness isolated them from all the rest of the world, and
they only spoke in broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so
extreme that they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly
Edmond saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of
Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for which
he could scarcely account to himself, the young Catalan placed his
hand on the knife at his belt.
"Ah, your pardon," said Dantes, frowning in his turn; "I did not
perceive that there were three of us." Then, turning to Mercedes,
he inquired, "Who is this gentleman?"
"One who will be your best friend, Dantes, for he is my friend,
my cousin, my brother; it is Fernand — the man whom, after you,
Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do you not remember him?"
"Yes!" said Dantes, and without relinquishing Mercedes hand
clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the Catalan
with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to thiswith a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of responding to this
amiable gesture, remained mute and trembling. Edmond then cast his
eyes scrutinizingly at the agitated and embarrassed Mercedes, and
then again on the gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him
all, and his anger waxed hot.
"I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I was
to meet an enemy here."
"An enemy!" cried Mercedes, with an angry look at her cousin.
"An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond! If I believed that, I
would place my arm under yours and go with you to Marseilles,
leaving the house to return to it no more."
Fernand's eye darted lightning. "And should any misfortune occur
to you, dear Edmond," she continued with the same calmness which
proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost
depths of his sinister thought, "if misfortune should occur to you,
I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast
myself headlong from it."
Fernand became deadly pale. "But you are deceived, Edmond," she
continued. "You have no enemy here — there is no one but Fernand,
my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend."
And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look on
the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly towards
Edmond, and offered him his hand. His hatred, like a powerless
though furious wave, was broken against the strong ascendancy which
Mercedes exercised over him. Scarcely, however, had he touched
Edmond's hand than he felt he had done all he could do, and rushed
hastily out of the house.
"Oh," he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair —
"Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched — wretched that I
am!"
"Hallo, Catalan! Hallo, Fernand! where are you running to?"
exclaimed a voice.
The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and perceived
Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under an arbor.
"Well", said Caderousse, "why don't you come? Are you really in
such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with
your friends?" |
such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of day with
your friends?"
"Particularly when they have still a full bottle before them,"
added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a stupefied air,
but did not say a word.
"He seems besotted," said Danglars, pushing Caderousse with his
knee. "Are we mistaken, and is Dantes triumphant in spite of all we
have believed?"
"Why, we must inquire into that," was Caderousse's reply; and
turning towards the young man, said, "Well, Catalan, can't you make
up your mind?"
Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow, and
slowly entered the arbor, whose shade seemed to restore somewhat of
calmness to his senses, and whose coolness somewhat of refreshment
to his exhausted body.
"Good-day," said he. "You called me, didn't you?" And he fell,
rather than sat down, on one of the seats which surrounded the
table.
"I called you because you were running like a madman, and I was
afraid you would throw yourself into the sea," said Caderousse,
laughing. "Why, when a man has friends, they are not only to offer
him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to prevent his swallowing three
or four pints of water unnecessarily!"
Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his
head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.
"Well, Fernand, I must say," said Caderousse, beginning the
conversation, with that brutality of the common people in which
curiosity destroys all diplomacy, "you look uncommonly like a
rejected lover;" and he burst into a hoarse laugh.
"Bah!" said Danglars, "a lad of his make was not born to be
unhappy in love. You are laughing at him, Caderousse."
"No," he replied, "only hark how he sighs! Come, come, Fernand,"
said Caderousse, "hold up your head, and answer us. It's not polite
not to reply to friends who ask news of your health."
"My health is well enough," said Fernand, clinching his hands
without raising his head.
"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his friend,without raising his head.
"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his friend,
"this is how it is; Fernand, whom you see here, is a good and brave
Catalan, one of the best fishermen in Marseilles, and he is in love
with a very fine girl, named Mercedes; but it appears,
unfortunately, that the fine girl is in love with the mate of the
Pharaon; and as the Pharaon arrived to-day — why, you
understand!"
"No; I do not understand," said Danglars.
"Poor Fernand has been dismissed," continued Caderousse.
"Well, and what then?" said Fernand, lifting up his head, and
looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one on whom to
vent his anger; "Mercedes is not accountable to any person, is she?
Is she not free to love whomsoever she will?"
"Oh, if you take it in that sense," said Caderousse, "it is
another thing. But I thought you were a Catalan, and they told me
the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be supplanted by a
rival. It was even told me that Fernand, especially, was terrible
in his vengeance."
Fernand smiled piteously. "A lover is never terrible," he
said.
"Poor fellow!" remarked Danglars, affecting to pity the young
man from the bottom of his heart. "Why, you see, he did not expect
to see Dantes return so suddenly — he thought he was dead, perhaps;
or perchance faithless! These things always come on us more
severely when they come suddenly."
"Ah, ma foi, under any circumstances," said Caderousse, who
drank as he spoke, and on whom the fumes of the wine began to take
effect, — "under any circumstances Fernand is not the only person
put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes; is he, Danglars?"
"No, you are right — and I should say that would bring him
ill-luck."
"Well, never mind," answered Caderousse, pouring out a glass of
wine for Fernand, and filling his own for the eighth or ninth time,
while Danglars had merely sipped his. "Never mind — in the meantime
he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to
do that."he marries Mercedes — the lovely Mercedes — at least he returns to
do that."
During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the young
man, on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like molten lead.
"And when is the wedding to be?" he asked.
"Oh, it is not yet fixed!" murmured Fernand.
"No, but it will be," said Caderousse, "as surely as Dantes will
be captain of the Pharaon — eh, Danglars?"
Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack, and turned to
Caderousse, whose countenance he scrutinized, to try and detect
whether the blow was premeditated; but he read nothing but envy in
a countenance already rendered brutal and stupid by
drunkenness.
"Well," said he, filling the glasses, "let us drink to Captain
Edmond Dantes, husband of the beautiful Catalane!"
Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand, and
swallowed the contents at a gulp. Fernand dashed his on the
ground.
"Eh, eh, eh!" stammered Caderousse. "What do I see down there by
the wall, in the direction of the Catalans? Look, Fernand, your
eyes are better than mine. I believe I see double. You know wine is
a deceiver; but I should say it was two lovers walking side by
side, and hand in hand. Heaven forgive me, they do not know that we
can see them, and they are actually embracing!"
Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured.
"Do you know them, Fernand?" he said.
"Yes," was the reply, in a low voice. "It is Edmond and
Mercedes!"
"Ah, see there, now!" said Caderousse; "and I did not recognize
them! Hallo, Dantes! hello, lovely damsel! Come this way, and let
us know when the wedding is to be, for Fernand here is so obstinate
he will not tell us."
"Hold your tongue, will you?" said Danglars, pretending to
restrain Caderousse, who, with the tenacity of drunkards, leaned
out of the arbor. "Try to stand upright, and let the lovers make
love without interruption. See, look at Fernand, and follow his
example; he is well-behaved!"
Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by Danglars, |
example; he is well-behaved!"
Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by Danglars,
as the bull is by the bandilleros, was about to rush out; for he
had risen from his seat, and seemed to be collecting himself to
dash headlong upon his rival, when Mercedes, smiling and graceful,
lifted up her lovely head, and looked at them with her clear and
bright eyes. At this Fernand recollected her threat of dying if
Edmond died, and dropped again heavily on his seat. Danglars looked
at the two men, one after the other, the one brutalized by liquor,
the other overwhelmed with love.
"I shall get nothing from these fools," he muttered; "and I am
very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a coward.
Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on wine when he ought
to be nursing his wrath, and here is a fool who sees the woman he
loves stolen from under his nose and takes on like a big baby. Yet
this Catalan has eyes that glisten like those of the vengeful
Spaniards, Sicilians, and Calabrians, and the other has fists big
enough to crush an ox at one blow. Unquestionably, Edmond's star is
in the ascendant, and he will marry the splendid girl — he will be
captain, too, and laugh at us all, unless" — a sinister smile
passed over Danglars' lips — "unless I take a hand in the affair,"
he added.
"Hallo!" continued Caderousse, half-rising, and with his fist on
the table, "hallo, Edmond! do you not see your friends, or are you
too proud to speak to them?"
"No, my dear fellow!" replied Dantes, "I am not proud, but I am
happy, and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride."
"Ah, very well, that's an explanation!" said Caderousse. "How do
you do, Madame Dantes?"
Mercedes courtesied gravely, and said — "That is not my name,
and in my country it bodes ill fortune, they say, to call a young
girl by the name of her betrothed before he becomes her husband. So
call me Mercedes, if you please."
"We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse," said Dantes,
"he is so easily mistaken.""We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse," said Dantes,
"he is so easily mistaken."
"So, then, the wedding is to take place immediately, M. Dantes,"
said Danglars, bowing to the young couple.
"As soon as possible, M. Danglars; to-day all preliminaries will
be arranged at my father's, and to-morrow, or next day at latest,
the wedding festival here at La Reserve. My friends will be there,
I hope; that is to say, you are invited, M. Danglars, and you,
Caderousse."
"And Fernand," said Caderousse with a chuckle; "Fernand, too, is
invited!"
"My wife's brother is my brother," said Edmond; "and we,
Mercedes and I, should be very sorry if he were absent at such a
time."
Fernand opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died on his
lips, and he could not utter a word.
"To-day the preliminaries, to-morrow or next day the ceremony!
You are in a hurry, captain!"
"Danglars," said Edmond, smiling, "I will say to you as Mercedes
said just now to Caderousse, `Do not give me a title which does not
belong to me'; that may bring me bad luck."
"Your pardon," replied Danglars, "I merely said you seemed in a
hurry, and we have lots of time; the Pharaon cannot be under weigh
again in less than three months."
"We are always in a hurry to be happy, M. Danglars; for when we
have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in
good fortune. But it is not selfishness alone that makes me thus in
haste; I must go to Paris."
"Ah, really? — to Paris! and will it be the first time you have
ever been there, Dantes?"
"Yes."
"Have you business there?"
"Not of my own; the last commission of poor Captain Leclere; you
know to what I allude, Danglars — it is sacred. Besides, I shall
only take the time to go and return."
"Yes, yes, I understand," said Danglars, and then in a low tone,
he added, "To Paris, no doubt to deliver the letter which the grand
marshal gave him. Ah, this letter gives me an idea — a capital
idea! Ah; Dantes, my friend, you are not yet registered number oneidea! Ah; Dantes, my friend, you are not yet registered number one
on board the good ship Pharaon;" then turning towards Edmond, who
was walking away, "A pleasant journey," he cried.
"Thank you," said Edmond with a friendly nod, and the two lovers
continued on their way, as calm and joyous as if they were the very
elect of heaven.In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the Rue du
Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain, a second marriage feast
was being celebrated, almost at the same hour with the nuptial
repast given by Dantes. In this case, however, although the
occasion of the entertainment was similar, the company was
strikingly dissimilar. Instead of a rude mixture of sailors,
soldiers, and those belonging to the humblest grade of life, the
present assembly was composed of the very flower of Marseilles
society, — magistrates who had resigned their office during the
usurper's reign; officers who had deserted from the imperial army
and joined forces with Conde; and younger members of families,
brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five years of exile
would convert into a martyr, and fifteen of restoration elevate to
the rank of a god.
The guests were still at table, and the heated and energetic
conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and vindictive
passions that then agitated each dweller of the South, where
unhappily, for five centuries religious strife had long given
increased bitterness to the violence of party feeling.
The emperor, now king of the petty Island of Elba, after having
held sovereign sway over one-half of the world, counting as his
subjects a small population of five or six thousand souls, — after
having been accustomed to hear the "Vive Napoleons" of a hundred
and twenty millions of human beings, uttered in ten different
languages, — was looked upon here as a ruined man, separated
forever from any fresh connection with France or claim to her
throne.
The magistrates freely discussed their political views; the
military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow and
Leipsic, while the women commented on the divorce of Josephine. It
was not over the downfall of the man, but over the defeat of the
Napoleonic idea, that they rejoiced, and in this they foresaw for
themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified
political existence. |
themselves the bright and cheering prospect of a revivified
political existence.
An old man, decorated with the cross of Saint Louis, now rose
and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. It was the Marquis de
Saint-Meran. This toast, recalling at once the patient exile of
Hartwell and the peace-loving King of France, excited universal
enthusiasm; glasses were elevated in the air a l'Anglais, and the
ladies, snatching their bouquets from their fair bosoms, strewed
the table with their floral treasures. In a word, an almost
poetical fervor prevailed.
"Ah," said the Marquise de Saint-Meran, a woman with a stern,
forbidding eye, though still noble and distinguished in appearance,
despite her fifty years — "ah, these revolutionists, who have
driven us from those very possessions they afterwards purchased for
a mere trifle during the Reign of Terror, would be compelled to
own, were they here, that all true devotion was on our side, since
we were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch, while
they, on the contrary, made their fortune by worshipping the rising
sun; yes, yes, they could not help admitting that the king, for
whom we sacrificed rank, wealth, and station was truly our `Louis
the well-beloved,' while their wretched usurper his been, and ever
will be, to them their evil genius, their `Napoleon the accursed.'
Am I not right, Villefort?"
"I beg your pardon, madame. I really must pray you to excuse me,
but — in truth — I was not attending to the conversation."
"Marquise, marquise!" interposed the old nobleman who had
proposed the toast, "let the young people alone; let me tell you,
on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects of
conversation than dry politics."
"Never mind, dearest mother," said a young and lovely girl, with
a profusion of light brown hair, and eyes that seemed to float in
liquid crystal, "'tis all my fault for seizing upon M. de
Villefort, so as to prevent his listening to what you said. But
there — now take him — he is your own for as long as you like. M.there — now take him — he is your own for as long as you like. M.
Villefort, I beg to remind you my mother speaks to you."
"If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but
imperfectly caught, I shall be delighted to answer," said M. de
Villefort.
"Never mind, Renee," replied the marquise, with a look of
tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry features;
but, however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's
nature, there is always one bright smiling spot in the desert of
her heart, and that is the shrine of maternal love. "I forgive you.
What I was saying, Villefort, was, that the Bonapartists had not
our sincerity, enthusiasm, or devotion."
"They had, however, what supplied the place of those fine
qualities," replied the young man, "and that was fanaticism.
Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West, and is worshipped by his
commonplace but ambitions followers, not only as a leader and
lawgiver, but also as the personification of equality."
"He!" cried the marquise: "Napoleon the type of equality! For
mercy's sake, then, what would you call Robespierre? Come, come, do
not strip the latter of his just rights to bestow them on the
Corsican, who, to my mind, has usurped quite enough."
"Nay, madame; I would place each of these heroes on his right
pedestal — that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the Place Louis
Quinze; that of Napoleon on the column of the Place Vendome. The
only difference consists in the opposite character of the equality
advocated by these two men; one is the equality that elevates, the
other is the equality that degrades; one brings a king within reach
of the guillotine, the other elevates the people to a level with
the throne. Observe," said Villefort, smiling, "I do not mean to
deny that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels, and that
the 9th Thermidor and the 4th of April, in the year 1814, were
lucky days for France, worthy of being gratefully remembered by
every friend to monarchy and civil order; and that explains how itevery friend to monarchy and civil order; and that explains how it
comes to pass that, fallen, as I trust he is forever, Napoleon has
still retained a train of parasitical satellites. Still, marquise,
it has been so with other usurpers — Cromwell, for instance, who
was not half so bad as Napoleon, had his partisans and
advocates."
"Do you know, Villefort, that you are talking in a most
dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it, it is impossible
to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a small spice of
the old leaven." A deep crimson suffused the countenance of
Villefort.
"'Tis true, madame," answered he, "that my father was a
Girondin, but he was not among the number of those who voted for
the king's death; he was an equal sufferer with yourself during the
Reign of Terror, and had well-nigh lost his head on the same
scaffold on which your father perished."
"True," replied the marquise, without wincing in the slightest
degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up; "but bear in mind,
if you please, that our respective parents underwent persecution
and proscription from diametrically opposite principles; in proof
of which I may remark, that while my family remained among the
stanchest adherents of the exiled princes, your father lost no time
in joining the new government; and that while the Citizen Noirtier
was a Girondin, the Count Noirtier became a senator."
"Dear mother," interposed Renee, "you know very well it was
agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should forever be
laid aside."
"Suffer me, also, madame," replied Villefort, "to add my earnest
request to Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran's, that you will kindly
allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal the past. What
avails recrimination over matters wholly past recall? For my own
part, I have laid aside even the name of my father, and altogether
disown his political principles. He was — nay, probably may still
be — a Bonapartist, and is called Noirtier; I, on the contrary, am |