DRACULA by Bram Stoker

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 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 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 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 time-yellowed
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 odour 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 odour 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 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, 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 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 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.
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?"
"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
centre, 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 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 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 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 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 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 afternoon, 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.
CHAPTER 20
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
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 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, 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 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 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 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.
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 honourable 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 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! 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 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.
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?"
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."
"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 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. 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 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 . . .
CHAPTER 21
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
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. 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 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 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."
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, "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 colour 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 splendour."
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 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 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 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 nightdress 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 vapour. 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.
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 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 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 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 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 Whitby. 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 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, 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.
CHAPTER 22
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
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 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 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.
"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 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 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 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 neighbourhood 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 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 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 white-hot 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 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, 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 Sacred 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, 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. 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 centred, looming up grim and silent in its deserted
condition amongst its more lively and spruce-looking neighbours. 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 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 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.
CHAPTER 23
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
3 October.--The time seemed terribly 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 grief-written 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.
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 honour 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 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.
"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. 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 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
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?"
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 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.
CHAPTER 24
DR. SEWARD'S PHONOGRAPH DIARY
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 earth-work 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 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. 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 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, 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 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
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 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 honour 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 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 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 dishonour 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?"
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 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
dishonour 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
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 honour.
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 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 occasion 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 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 honour. 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 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 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.
CHAPTER 25
DR SEWARD'S DIARY
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, preceded
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, 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 hotch-pot." 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 questioningly, 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."
"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 fast-falling 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 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 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 colour 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."
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 and rushing
water, darkness and favouring 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.
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 colour, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 is predestinate 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 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 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.
CHAPTER 26
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
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
endeavour, 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, 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 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, 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 honour 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 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
favourable 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 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' glad 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." 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 porterage. 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 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.
(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 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 favouring 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 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. 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. 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 every
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.
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, 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 goodbye 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 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 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 overhauled 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 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 November.--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 November.--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 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 colour 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 honoured him more than I can say, and that my
latest and truest thought will be always for him.
CHAPTER 27
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
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 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 HELSING
4 November.--This to my old and true friend John Seward, M.D.,
of Purfleet, 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.
"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 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, 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
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 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 colour, 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 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 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 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 odour 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 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 time 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 strengthened 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 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 ago 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 fervour. 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 we 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.
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 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 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, 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
endeavour, 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 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 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.
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