DRACULA

by Bram Stoker

Styled by LimpidSoft

Contents

CHAPTER 1 4

CHAPTER 2 30

CHAPTER 3 54

CHAPTER 4 78

CHAPTER 5 104

CHAPTER 6 124

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 7 155

CHAPTER 8 187

CHAPTER 9 221

CHAPTER 10 253

CHAPTER 11 287

CHAPTER 12 312

CHAPTER 13 345

CHAPTER 14 374

CHAPTER 15 403

CHAPTER 16 429

CHAPTER 17 449

CHAPTER 18 474

CHAPTER 19 505

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 20 529

CHAPTER 21 557

CHAPTER 22 584

CHAPTER 23 608

CHAPTER 24 634

CHAPTER 25 667

CHAPTER 26 702

CHAPTER 27 741

NOTE 781

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The present document was derived fromtext provided by Project Gutenberg (docu-ment 2594) which was made available free ofcharge. This document is also free of charge.

CHAPTER 1

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

(Kept in shorthand)

3 May. Bistritz.–Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May,arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have ar-rived at 6:46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesthseems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I gotof it from the train and the little I could walk through thestreets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we hadarrived late and would start as near the correct time aspossible.

CHAPTER 1

The impression I had was that we were leaving theWest and entering the East; the most western of splendidbridges over the Danube, which is here of noble widthand depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall toKlausenburgh. Here I stopped for the night at the HotelRoyale. I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken doneup some way with red pepper, which was very good butthirsty. (Mem. get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter,and he said it was called “paprika hendl,” and that, as itwas a national dish, I should be able to get it anywherealong the Carpathians.

I found my smattering of German very useful here, in-deed, I don’t know how I should be able to get on withoutit.

Having had some time at my disposal when in Lon-don, I had visited the British Museum, and made searchamong the books and maps in the library regarding Tran-sylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge ofthe country could hardly fail to have some importance indealing with a nobleman of that country.

I find that the district he named is in the extremeeast of the country, just on the borders of three states,

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Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst ofthe Carpathian mountains; one of the wildest and leastknown portions of Europe.

I was not able to light on any map or work giving theexact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no mapsof this country as yet to compare with our own OrdnanceSurvey Maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post townnamed by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place.I shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refreshmy memory when I talk over my travels with Mina.

In the population of Transylvania there are four dis-tinct nationalities: Saxons in the South, and mixed withthem the Wallachs, who are the descendants of the Da-cians; Magyars in the West, and Szekelys in the East andNorth. I am going among the latter, who claim to be de-scended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, forwhen the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventhcentury they found the Huns settled in it.

I read that every known superstition in the world isgathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if itwere the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; ifso my stay may be very interesting. (Mem., I must ask theCount all about them.)

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I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortableenough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams. There wasa dog howling all night under my window, which mayhave had something to do with it; or it may have beenthe paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in mycarafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept andwas wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, soI guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridgeof maize flour which they said was “mamaliga“, and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, whichthey call “impletata“. (Mem., get recipe for this also.)

I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little be-fore eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for afterrushing to the station at 7:30 I had to sit in the carriage formore than an hour before we began to move.

It seems to me that the further east you go the more un-punctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China?

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a countrywhich was full of beauty of every kind. Sometimes wesaw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills suchas we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by rivers andstreams which seemed from the wide stony margin on

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each side of them to be subject to great floods. It takesa lot of water, and running strong, to sweep the outsideedge of a river clear.

At every station there were groups of people, some-times crowds, and in all sorts of attire. Some of themwere just like the peasants at home or those I saw com-ing through France and Germany, with short jackets, andround hats, and home-made trousers; but others werevery picturesque.

The women looked pretty, except when you got nearthem, but they were very clumsy about the waist. Theyhad all full white sleeves of some kind or other, and mostof them had big belts with a lot of strips of somethingfluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but ofcourse there were petticoats under them.

The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, whowere more barbarian than the rest, with their big cow-boy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linenshirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly a footwide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore highboots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had longblack hair and heavy black moustaches. They are verypicturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage

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they would be set down at once as some old Orientalband of brigands. They are, however, I am told, veryharmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got toBistritz, which is a very interesting old place. Being prac-tically on the frontier–for the Borgo Pass leads from itinto Bukovina–it has had a very stormy existence, and itcertainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series ofgreat fires took place, which made terrible havoc on fiveseparate occasions. At the very beginning of the seven-teenth century it underwent a siege of three weeks andlost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being as-sisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the GoldenKrone Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to bethoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I wanted to seeall I could of the ways of the country.

I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door Ifaced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peas-ant dress–white undergarment with a long double apron,front, and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tightfor modesty. When I came close she bowed and said,“The Herr Englishman?”

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“Yes,” I said, “Jonathan Harker.”

She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly manin white shirtsleeves, who had followed her to the door.

He went, but immediately returned with a letter:

“My friend.–Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anx-iously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomor-row the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it iskept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will awaityou and will bring you to me. I trust that your journeyfrom London has been a happy one, and that you will en-joy your stay in my beautiful land.–Your friend, Dracula.”

4 May–I found that my landlord had got a letter fromthe Count, directing him to secure the best place on thecoach for me; but on making inquiries as to details heseemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he couldnot understand my German.

This could not be true, because up to then he had un-derstood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questionsexactly as if he did.

He and his wife, the old lady who had received me,looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mum-bled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and that

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was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew CountDracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, bothhe and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that theyknew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. Itwas so near the time of starting that I had no time to askanyone else, for it was all very mysterious and not by anymeans comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to myroom and said in a hysterical way: “Must you go? Oh!Young Herr, must you go?” She was in such an excitedstate that she seemed to have lost her grip of what Ger-man she knew, and mixed it all up with some other lan-guage which I did not know at all. I was just able to fol-low her by asking many questions. When I told her thatI must go at once, and that I was engaged on importantbusiness, she asked again:

“Do you know what day it is?” I answered that it wasthe fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

“Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you knowwhat day it is?”

On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:“It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know

that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil

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things in the world will have full sway? Do you knowwhere you are going, and what you are going to?” Shewas in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her,but without effect. Finally, she went down on her kneesand implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or twobefore starting.

It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable.However, there was business to be done, and I could al-low nothing to interfere with it.

I tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could,that I thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and thatI must go.

She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifixfrom her neck offered it to me.

I did not know what to do, for, as an English Church-man, I have been taught to regard such things as in somemeasure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious torefuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state ofmind.

She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she putthe rosary round my neck and said, “For your mother’ssake,” and went out of the room.

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I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am wait-ing for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifixis still round my neck.

Whether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostlytraditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know,but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let itbring my goodbye. Here comes the coach!

5 May. The Castle.–The gray of the morning haspassed, and the sun is high over the distant horizon,which seems jagged, whether with trees or hills I knownot, for it is so far off that big things and little are mixed.

I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake,naturally I write till sleep comes.

There are many odd things to put down, and, lest whoreads them may fancy that I dined too well before I leftBistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly.

I dined on what they called “robber steak“–bits of ba-con, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, andstrung on sticks, and roasted over the fire, in simple styleof the London cat’s meat!

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The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces aqueer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not dis-agreeable.

I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach, the driver had not taken hisseat, and I saw him talking to the landlady.

They were evidently talking of me, for every now andthen they looked at me, and some of the people who weresitting on the bench outside the door–came and listened,and then looked at me, most of them pityingly. I couldhear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, for therewere many nationalities in the crowd, so I quietly got mypolyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out.

I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongstthem were “Ordog“–Satan, “Pokol“–hell, “stregoica“–witch, “vrolok” and “vlkoslak“–both mean the samething, one being Slovak and the other Servian for some-thing that is either werewolf or vampire. (Mem., I mustask the Count about these superstitions.)

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, whichhad by this time swelled to a considerable size, all madethe sign of the cross and pointed two fingers towards me.

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With some difficulty, I got a fellow passenger to tell mewhat they meant. He would not answer at first, but onlearning that I was English, he explained that it was acharm or guard against the evil eye.

This was not very pleasant for me, just starting for anunknown place to meet an unknown man. But everyoneseemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sym-pathetic that I could not but be touched.

I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of theinn yard and its crowd of picturesque figures, all cross-ing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway,with its background of rich foliage of oleander and or-ange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the yard.

Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers coveredthe whole front of the boxseat,–”gotza” they call them–cracked his big whip over his four small horses, whichran abreast, and we set off on our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears inthe beauty of the scene as we drove along, although hadI known the language, or rather languages, which myfellow-passengers were speaking, I might not have beenable to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a greensloping land full of forests and woods, with here and

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there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or withfarmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There waseverywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom–apple,plum, pear, cherry. And as we drove by I could seethe green grass under the trees spangled with the fallenpetals. In and out amongst these green hills of what theycall here the “Mittel Land” ran the road, losing itself asit swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by thestraggling ends of pine woods, which here and there randown the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road wasrugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverishhaste. I could not understand then what the haste meant,but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time inreaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in sum-mertime excellent, but that it had not yet been put in or-der after the winter snows. In this respect it is differentfrom the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it isan old tradition that they are not to be kept in too goodorder. Of old the Hospadars would not repair them, lestthe Turk should think that they were preparing to bring inforeign troops, and so hasten the war which was alwaysreally at loading point.

Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Landrose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of

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the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us theytowered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon themand bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautifulrange, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks,green and brown where grass and rock mingled, andan endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags,till these were themselves lost in the distance, wherethe snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemedmighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sunbegan to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam offalling water. One of my companions touched my arm aswe swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty,snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as wewound on our serpentine way, to be right before us.

“Look! Isten szek!”–”God’s seat!”–and he crossed him-self reverently.

As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sanklower and lower behind us, the shadows of the eveningbegan to creep round us. This was emphasized by the factthat the snowy mountain-top still held the sunset, andseemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here andthere we passed Cszeks and slovaks, all in picturesque at-tire, but I noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. Bythe roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my

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companions all crossed themselves. Here and there wasa peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, whodid not even turn round as we approached, but seemedin the self-surrender of devotion to have neither eyes norears for the outer world. There were many things newto me. For instance, hay-ricks in the trees, and here andthere very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their whitestems shining like silver through the delicate green of theleaves.

Now and again we passed a leiter-wagon–the ordi-nary peasants’s cart–with its long, snakelike vertebra,calculated to suit the inequalities of the road. On thiswere sure to be seated quite a group of homecomingpeasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovakswith their coloured sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long staves, with axe at end. As the eveningfell it began to get very cold, and the growing twilightseemed to merge into one dark mistiness the gloom of thetrees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys whichran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascendedthrough the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and thereagainst the background of late-lying snow. Sometimes, asthe road was cut through the pine woods that seemed inthe darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of

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greyness which here and there bestrewed the trees, pro-duced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which car-ried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlierin the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strangerelief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the Carpathi-ans seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Some-times the hills were so steep that, despite our driver’shaste, the horses could only go slowly. I wished to getdown and walk up them, as we do at home, but the driverwould not hear of it. “No, no,” he said. “You must notwalk here. The dogs are too fierce.” And then he added,with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry–for helooked round to catch the approving smile of the rest–”And you may have enough of such matters before yougo to sleep.” The only stop he would make was a mo-ment’s pause to light his lamps.

When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitementamongst the passengers, and they kept speaking to him,one after the other, as though urging him to further speed.He lashed the horses unmercifully with his long whip,and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on tofurther exertions. Then through the darkness I could seea sort of patch of grey light ahead of us, as though therewere a cleft in the hills. The excitement of the passengers

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grew greater. The crazy coach rocked on its great leathersprings, and swayed like a boat tossed on a stormy sea.I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we ap-peared to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to comenearer to us on each side and to frown down upon us.We were entering on the Borgo Pass. One by one severalof the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressedupon me with an earnestness which would take no de-nial. These were certainly of an odd and varied kind, buteach was given in simple good faith, with a kindly word,and a blessing, and that same strange mixture of fear-meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotelat Bistritz–the sign of the cross and the guard against theevil eye. Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned for-ward, and on each side the passengers, craning over theedge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. Itwas evident that something very exciting was either hap-pening or expected, but though I asked each passenger,no one would give me the slightest explanation. Thisstate of excitement kept on for some little time. And atlast we saw before us the Pass opening out on the easternside. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and inthe air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemedas though the mountain range had separated two atmo-

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spheres, and that now we had got into the thunderousone. I was now myself looking out for the conveyancewhich was to take me to the Count. Each moment I ex-pected to see the glare of lamps through the blackness,but all was dark. The only light was the flickering rays ofour own lamps, in which the steam from our hard-drivenhorses rose in a white cloud. We could see now the sandyroad lying white before us, but there was on it no sign ofa vehicle. The passengers drew back with a sigh of glad-ness, which seemed to mock my own disappointment. Iwas already thinking what I had best do, when the driver,looking at his watch, said to the others something whichI could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in solow a tone, I thought it was “An hour less than the time.”Then turning to me, he spoke in German worse than myown.

“There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expectedafter all. He will now come on to Bukovina, and returntomorrow or the next day, better the next day.” Whilsthe was speaking the horses began to neigh and snort andplunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants anda universal crossing of themselves, a caleche, with fourhorses, drove up behind us, overtook us, and drew up be-

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side the coach. I could see from the flash of our lamps asthe rays fell on them, that the horses were coal-black andsplendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with along brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed tohide his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pairof very bright eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight,as he turned to us.

He said to the driver, “You are early tonight, myfriend.”

The man stammered in reply, “The English Herr was ina hurry.”

To which the stranger replied, “That is why, I suppose,you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot de-ceive me, my friend. I know too much, and my horses areswift.”

As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-lookingteeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whis-pered to another the line from Burger’s “Lenore“.

“Denn die Todten reiten Schnell.” (“For the dead travelfast.“)

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for helooked up with a gleaming smile. The passenger turned

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his face away, at the same time putting out his two fin-gers and crossing himself. “Give me the Herr’s luggage,”said the driver, and with exceeding alacrity my bags werehanded out and put in the caleche. Then I descendedfrom the side of the coach, as the caleche was close along-side, the driver helping me with a hand which caught myarm in a grip of steel. His strength must have been prodi-gious.

Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned,and we swept into the darkness of the pass. As I lookedback I saw the steam from the horses of the coach by thelight of the lamps, and projected against it the figures ofmy late companions crossing themselves. Then the drivercracked his whip and called to his horses, and off theyswept on their way to Bukovina. As they sank into thedarkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely feeling comeover me. But a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, anda rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellentGerman–”The night is chill, mein Herr, and my masterthe Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flaskof slivovitz (the plum brandy of the country) underneaththe seat, if you should require it.”

I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know itwas there all the same. I felt a little strangely, and not

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a little frightened. I think had there been any alterna-tive I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting thatunknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard pacestraight along, then we made a complete turn and wentalong another straight road. It seemed to me that we weresimply going over and over the same ground again, andso I took note of some salient point, and found that thiswas so. I would have liked to have asked the driver whatthis all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I thoughtthat, placed as I was, any protest would have had no ef-fect in case there had been an intention to delay.

By-and-by, however, as I was curious to know howtime was passing, I struck a match, and by its flamelooked at my watch. It was within a few minutes of mid-night. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the gen-eral superstition about midnight was increased by my re-cent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhousefar down the road, a long, agonized wailing, as if fromfear. The sound was taken up by another dog, and thenanother and another, till, borne on the wind which nowsighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began,which seemed to come from all over the country, as faras the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of

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the night.

At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear,but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they qui-eted down, but shivered and sweated as though after arunaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance,from the mountains on each side of us began a louder anda sharper howling, that of wolves, which affected both thehorses and myself in the same way. For I was minded tojump from the caleche and run, whilst they reared againand plunged madly, so that the driver had to use all hisgreat strength to keep them from bolting. In a few min-utes, however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound,and the horses so far became quiet that the driver wasable to descend and to stand before them.

He petted and soothed them, and whispered some-thing in their ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers do-ing, and with extraordinary effect, for under his caressesthey became quite manageable again, though they stilltrembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking hisreins, started off at a great pace. This time, after goingto the far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down anarrow roadway which ran sharply to the right.

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places

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arched right over the roadway till we passed as througha tunnel. And again great frowning rocks guarded usboldly on either side. Though we were in shelter, wecould hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistledthrough the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashedtogether as we swept along. It grew colder and colderstill, and fine, powdery snow began to fall, so that soonwe and all around us were covered with a white blan-ket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs,though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The bay-ing of the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as thoughthey were closing round on us from every side. I grewdreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my fear. Thedriver, however, was not in the least disturbed. He keptturning his head to left and right, but I could not see any-thing through the darkness.

Suddenly, away on our left I saw a faint flickering blueflame. The driver saw it at the same moment. He at oncechecked the horses, and, jumping to the ground, disap-peared into the darkness. I did not know what to do,the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer. Butwhile I wondered, the driver suddenly appeared again,and without a word took his seat, and we resumed ourjourney. I think I must have fallen asleep and kept dream-

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ing of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated endlessly,and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in thedarkness around us I could watch the driver’s motions.He went rapidly to where the blue flame arose, it musthave been very faint, for it did not seem to illumine theplace around it at all, and gathering a few stones, formedthem into some device.

Once there appeared a strange optical effect. When hestood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it,for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same. This star-tled me, but as the effect was only momentary, I took itthat my eyes deceived me straining through the dark-ness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and wesped onwards through the gloom, with the howling ofthe wolves around us, as though they were following ina moving circle.

At last there came a time when the driver went fur-ther afield than he had yet gone, and during his ab-sence, the horses began to tremble worse than ever andto snort and scream with fright. I could not see any causefor it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased alto-gether. But just then the moon, sailing through the blackclouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling,

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pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ringof wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, withlong, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hun-dred times more terrible in the grim silence which heldthem than even when they howled. For myself, I felt asort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man feels him-self face to face with such horrors that he can understandtheir true import.

All at once the wolves began to howl as though themoonlight had had some peculiar effect on them. Thehorses jumped about and reared, and looked helplesslyround with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see. Butthe living ring of terror encompassed them on every side,and they had perforce to remain within it. I called tothe coachman to come, for it seemed to me that our onlychance was to try to break out through the ring and to aidhis approach, I shouted and beat the side of the caleche,hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from the side, soas to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he camethere, I know not, but I heard his voice raised in a toneof imperious command, and looking towards the sound,saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his long arms,as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, thewolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy

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cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that we wereagain in darkness.

When I could see again the driver was climbing intothe caleche, and the wolves disappeared. This was all sostrange and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me,and I was afraid to speak or move. The time seemed inter-minable as we swept on our way, now in almost completedarkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon.

We kept on ascending, with occasional periods of quickdescent, but in the main always ascending. Suddenly, Ibecame conscious of the fact that the driver was in theact of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ru-ined castle, from whose tall black windows came no rayof light, and whose broken battlements showed a jaggedline against the sky.

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNALCONTINUED

5 May.–I must have been asleep, for certainly if I hadbeen fully awake I must have noticed the approach ofsuch a remarkable place. In the gloom the courtyardlooked of considerable size, and as several dark ways ledfrom it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed big-ger than it really is. I have not yet been able to see it bydaylight.

When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped downand held out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could

CHAPTER 2

not but notice his prodigious strength. His hand actuallyseemed like a steel vice that could have crushed mine if hehad chosen. Then he took my traps, and placed them onthe ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, oldand studded with large iron nails, and set in a projectingdoorway of massive stone. I could see even in the dimlight that the stone was massively carved, but that thecarving had been much worn by time and weather. AsI stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shookthe reins. The horses started forward, and trap and alldisappeared down one of the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know whatto do. Of bell or knocker there was no sign. Throughthese frowning walls and dark window openings it wasnot likely that my voice could penetrate. The time Iwaited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowd-ing upon me. What sort of place had I come to, andamong what kind of people? What sort of grim adven-ture was it on which I had embarked? Was this a cus-tomary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent outto explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner?Solicitor’s clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor, forjust before leaving London I got word that my examina-tion was successful, and I am now a full-blown solicitor!

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I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I wereawake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, andI expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myselfat home, with the dawn struggling in through the win-dows, as I had now and again felt in the morning aftera day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinchingtest, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeedawake and among the Carpathians. All I could do nowwas to be patient, and to wait the coming of morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavystep approaching behind the great door, and saw throughthe chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there wasthe sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massivebolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grat-ing noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for along white moustache, and clad in black from head tofoot, without a single speck of colour about him any-where. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, inwhich the flame burned without a chimney or globe ofany kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickeredin the draught of the open door. The old man motionedme in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, sayingin excellent English, but with a strange intonation.

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“Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your ownfree will!” He made no motion of stepping to meet me,but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcomehad fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that Ihad stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsivelyforward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with astrength which made me wince, an effect which was notlessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more likethe hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said,

“Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely,and leave something of the happiness you bring!” Thestrength of the handshake was so much akin to that whichI had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, thatfor a moment I doubted if it were not the same person towhom I was speaking. So to make sure, I said interroga-tively, “Count Dracula?”

He bowed in a courtly way as he replied, “I am Drac-ula, and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house.Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need toeat and rest.” As he was speaking, he put the lamp ona bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my lug-gage. He had carried it in before I could forestall him.I protested, but he insisted.

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“Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my peopleare not available. Let me see to your comfort myself.” Heinsisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and thenup a great winding stair, and along another great passage,on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily. At the endof this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to seewithin a well-lit room in which a table was spread forsupper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs,freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed thedoor, and crossing the room, opened another door, whichled into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp,and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passingthrough this, he opened another door, and motioned meto enter. It was a welcome sight. For here was a greatbedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire,also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh, whichsent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count him-self left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, beforehe closed the door.

“You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourselfby making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish.When you are ready, come into the other room, whereyou will find your supper prepared.”

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The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous wel-come seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears.Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that Iwas half famished with hunger. So making a hasty toilet,I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stoodon one side of the great fireplace, leaning against thestonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the ta-ble, and said,

“I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. Youwill I trust, excuse me that I do not join you, but I havedined already, and I do not sup.”

I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkinshad entrusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely.Then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read.One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which mal-ady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any trav-elling on my part for some time to come. But I am happyto say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom Ihave every possible confidence. He is a young man, fullof energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithfuldisposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into

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manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend onyou when you will during his stay, and shall take yourinstructions in all matters.”

The count himself came forward and took off the coverof a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken.This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of oldtokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. Dur-ing the time I was eating it the Count asked me manyquestions as to my journey, and I told him by degrees allI had experienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’sdesire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun tosmoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same timeexcusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now anopportunity of observing him, and found him of a verymarked physiognomy.

His face was a strong, a very strong, aquiline, withhigh bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nos-trils, with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scant-ily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eye-brows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose,and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profu-sion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy

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moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with pe-culiarly sharp white teeth. These protruded over the lips,whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitalityin a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale,and at the tops extremely pointed. The chin was broadand strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The generaleffect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as theylay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemedrather white and fine. But seeing them now close to me, Icould not but notice that they were rather coarse, broad,with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in thecentre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cutto a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and hishands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It mayhave been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feelingof nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I couldnot conceal.

The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back. And witha grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yetdone his protruberant teeth, sat himself down again onhis own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for awhile, and as I looked towards the window I saw the firstdim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange

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stillness over everything. But as I listened, I heard asif from down below in the valley the howling of manywolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said.

“Listen to them, the children of the night. What musicthey make!” Seeing, I suppose, some expression in myface strange to him, he added, “Ah, sir, you dwellers inthe city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter.” Thenhe rose and said.

“But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, andtomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have tobe away till the afternoon, so sleep well and dream well!”With a courteous bow, he opened for me himself the doorto the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom.

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I thinkstrange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul.God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!

7 May.–It is again early morning, but I have rested andenjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in theday, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressedmyself I went into the room where we had supped, andfound a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot bythe pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card onthe table, on which was written–”I have to be absent for

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a while. Do not wait for me. D.” I set to and enjoyeda hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, sothat I might let the servants know I had finished, but Icould not find one. There are certainly odd deficienciesin the house, considering the extraordinary evidences ofwealth which are round me. The table service is of gold,and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immensevalue. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofasand the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and mostbeautiful fabrics, and must have been of fabulous valuewhen they were made, for they are centuries old, thoughin excellent order. I saw something like them in HamptonCourt, but they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten.But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is noteven a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the littleshaving glass from my bag before I could either shave orbrush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere,or heard a sound near the castle except the howling ofwolves. Some time after I had finished my meal, I donot know whether to call it breakfast or dinner, for it wasbetween five and six o’clock when I had it, I looked aboutfor something to read, for I did not like to go about thecastle until I had asked the Count’s permission. Therewas absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or

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even writing materials, so I opened another door in theroom and found a sort of library. The door opposite mineI tried, but found locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast num-ber of English books, whole shelves full of them, andbound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A tablein the centre was littered with English magazines andnewspapers, though none of them were of very recentdate. The books were of the most varied kind, history,geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology,law, all relating to England and English life and customsand manners. There were even such books of referenceas the London Directory, the “Red” and “Blue” books,Whitaker’s Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and itsomehow gladdened my heart to see it, the Law List.

Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened,and the Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way,and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest. Then hewent on.

“I am glad you found your way in here, for I am surethere is much that will interest you. These companions,”and he laid his hand on some of the books, “have beengood friends to me, and for some years past, ever since

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I had the idea of going to London, have given me many,many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come toknow your great England, and to know her is to love her.I long to go through the crowded streets of your mightyLondon, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of hu-manity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all thatmakes it what it is. But alas! As yet I only know yourtongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that Iknow it to speak.”

“But, Count,” I said, “You know and speak Englishthoroughly!” He bowed gravely.

“I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering esti-mate, but yet I fear that I am but a little way on the road Iwould travel. True, I know the grammar and the words,but yet I know not how to speak them.”

“Indeed,” I said, “You speak excellently.”“Not so,” he answered. “Well, I know that, did I move

and speak in your London, none there are who would notknow me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. HereI am noble. I am a Boyar. The common people know me,and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he isno one. Men know him not, and to know not is to carenot for. I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man

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stops if he sees me, or pauses in his speaking if he hearsmy words, ‘Ha, ha! A stranger!’ I have been so long mas-ter that I would be master still, or at least that none othershould be master of me. You come to me not alone asagent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell meall about my new estate in London. You shall, I trust,rest here with me a while, so that by our talking I maylearn the English intonation. And I would that you tellme when I make error, even of the smallest, in my speak-ing. I am sorry that I had to be away so long today, butyou will, I know forgive one who has so many importantaffairs in hand.”

Of course I said all I could about being willing, andasked if I might come into that room when I chose. Heanswered, “Yes, certainly,” and added.

“You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, exceptwhere the doors are locked, where of course you will notwish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are,and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowl-edge, you would perhaps better understand.” I said I wassure of this, and then he went on.

“We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not Eng-land. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to

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you many strange things. Nay, from what you have toldme of your experiences already, you know something ofwhat strange things there may be.”

This led to much conversation, and as it was evidentthat he wanted to talk, if only for talking’s sake, I askedhim many questions regarding things that had alreadyhappened to me or come within my notice. Sometimeshe sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation bypretending not to understand, but generally he answeredall I asked most frankly. Then as time went on, and I hadgot somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strangethings of the preceding night, as for instance, why thecoachman went to the places where he had seen the blueflames. He then explained to me that it was commonlybelieved that on a certain night of the year, last night, infact, when all evil spirits are supposed to have uncheckedsway, a blue flame is seen over any place where treasurehas been concealed.

“That treasure has been hidden,” he went on, “in theregion through which you came last night, there can bebut little doubt. For it was the ground fought over for cen-turies by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why,there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has notbeen enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders.

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In the old days there were stirring times, when the Aus-trian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patri-ots went out to meet them, men and women, the aged andthe children too, and waited their coming on the rocksabove the passes, that they might sweep destruction onthem with their artificial avalanches. When the invaderwas triumphant he found but little, for whatever therewas had been sheltered in the friendly soil.”

“But how,” said I, “can it have remained so long undis-covered, when there is a sure index to it if men will buttake the trouble to look?” The Count smiled, and as hislips ran back over his gums, the long, sharp, canine teethshowed out strangely. He answered:

“Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool!Those flames only appear on one night, and on that nightno man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without hisdoors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not knowwhat to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of whomarked the place of the flame would not know where tolook in daylight even for his own work. Even you wouldnot, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?”

“There you are right,” I said. “I know no more than thedead where even to look for them.” Then we drifted into

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other matters.“Come,” he said at last, “tell me of London and of the

house which you have procured for me.” With an apol-ogy for my remissness, I went into my own room to getthe papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in or-der I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room,and as I passed through, noticed that the table had beencleared and the lamp lit, for it was by this time deep intothe dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or library,and I found the Count lying on the sofa, reading, of allthings in the world, an English Bradshaw’s Guide. WhenI came in he cleared the books and papers from the table,and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures ofall sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked mea myriad questions about the place and its surroundings.He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on thesubject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at the endknew very much more than I did. When I remarked this,he answered.

“Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should?When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend HarkerJonathan, nay, pardon me. I fall into my country’s habit ofputting your patronymic first, my friend Jonathan Harkerwill not be by my side to correct and aid me. He will be

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in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of thelaw with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So!”

We went thoroughly into the business of the purchaseof the estate at Purfleet. When I had told him the factsand got his signature to the necessary papers, and hadwritten a letter with them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins,he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable aplace. I read to him the notes which I had made at thetime, and which I inscribe here.

“At Purfleet, on a byroad, I came across just such aplace as seemed to be required, and where was displayeda dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It wassurrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built ofheavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large num-ber of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak andiron, all eaten with rust.

“The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption ofthe old Quatre Face, as the house is four sided, agree-ing with the cardinal points of the compass. It containsin all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solidstone wall above mentioned. There are many trees onit, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep,dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some

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springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of all periodsback, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is ofstone immensely thick, with only a few windows high upand heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep,and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enterit, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from thehouse, but I have taken with my Kodak views of it fromvarious points. The house had been added to, but in avery straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount ofground it covers, which must be very great. There are butfew houses close at hand, one being a very large houseonly recently added to and formed into a private lunaticasylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds.”

When I had finished, he said, “I am glad that it is oldand big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in anew house would kill me. A house cannot be made hab-itable in a day, and after all, how few days go to makeup a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of oldtimes. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think thatour bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek notgaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of muchsunshine and sparkling waters which please the youngand gay. I am no longer young, and my heart, through

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weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned tomirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken. Theshadows are many, and the wind breathes cold throughthe broken battlements and casements. I love the shadeand the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughtswhen I may.” Somehow his words and his look did notseem to accord, or else it was that his cast of face madehis smile look malignant and saturnine.

Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pullmy papers together. He was some little time away, and Ibegan to look at some of the books around me. One wasan atlas, which I found opened naturally to England, as ifthat map had been much used. On looking at it I foundin certain places little rings marked, and on examiningthese I noticed that one was near London on the east side,manifestly where his new estate was situated. The othertwo were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

It was the better part of an hour when the Count re-turned. “Aha!” he said. “Still at your books? Good! Butyou must not work always. Come! I am informed thatyour supper is ready.” He took my arm, and we went intothe next room, where I found an excellent supper readyon the table. The Count again excused himself, as he haddined out on his being away from home. But he sat as on

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the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate. After supperI smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayedwith me, chatting and asking questions on every conceiv-able subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting verylate indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt underobligation to meet my host’s wishes in every way. I wasnot sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me,but I could not help experiencing that chill which comesover one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in itsway, the turn of the tide. They say that people who arenear death die generally at the change to dawn or at theturn of the tide. Anyone who has when tired, and tiedas it were to his post, experienced this change in the at-mosphere can well believe it. All at once we heard thecrow of the cock coming up with preternatural shrillnessthrough the clear morning air.

Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said, “Why thereis the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stayup so long. You must make your conversation regardingmy dear new country of England less interesting, so thatI may not forget how time flies by us,” and with a courtlybow, he quickly left me.

I went into my room and drew the curtains, but therewas little to notice. My window opened into the court-

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yard, all I could see was the warm grey of quickeningsky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have written ofthis day.

8 May.–I began to fear as I wrote in this book that Iwas getting too diffuse. But now I am glad that I wentinto detail from the first, for there is something so strangeabout this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy.I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. Itmay be that this strange night existence is telling on me,but would that that were all! If there were any one totalk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only theCount to speak with, and he–I fear I am myself the onlyliving soul within the place. Let me be prosaic so far asfacts can be. It will help me to bear up, and imaginationmust not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me sayat once how I stand, or seem to.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feel-ing that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hungmy shaving glass by the window, and was just beginningto shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, andheard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good morning.” Istarted, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since thereflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me.In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at

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the moment. Having answered the Count’s salutation, Iturned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken.This time there could be no error, for the man was closeto me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But therewas no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole roombehind me was displayed, but there was no sign of a manin it, except myself.

This was startling, and coming on the top of so manystrange things, was beginning to increase that vague feel-ing of uneasiness which I always have when the Count isnear. But at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little,and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down therazor, turning as I did so half round to look for some stick-ing plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazedwith a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made agrab at my throat. I drew away and his hand touched thestring of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instantchange in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I couldhardly believe that it was ever there.

“Take care,” he said, “take care how you cut yourself. Itis more dangerous that you think in this country.” Thenseizing the shaving glass, he went on, “And this is thewretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foulbauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!” And opening the

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window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flungout the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieceson the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he with-drew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not seehow I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottomof the shaving pot, which is fortunately of metal.

When I went into the dining room, breakfast was pre-pared, but I could not find the Count anywhere. So Ibreakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seenthe Count eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man!After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle. I wentout on the stairs, and found a room looking towards theSouth.

The view was magnificent, and from where I stoodthere was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is onthe very edge of a terrific precipice. A stone falling fromthe window would fall a thousand feet without touchinganything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green treetops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm.Here and there are silver threads where the rivers windin deep gorges through the forests.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I hadseen the view I explored further. Doors, doors, doors ev-

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erywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place savefrom the windows in the castle walls is there an availableexit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNALCONTINUED

When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feel-ing came over me. I rushed up and down the stairs, try-ing every door and peering out of every window I couldfind, but after a little the conviction of my helplessnessoverpowered all other feelings. When I look back aftera few hours I think I must have been mad for the time,for I behaved much as a rat does in a trap. When, how-ever, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless Isat down quietly, as quietly as I have ever done anything

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in my life, and began to think over what was best to bedone. I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no def-inite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain. That it isno use making my ideas known to the Count. He knowswell that I am imprisoned, and as he has done it himself,and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would onlydeceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as Ican see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge andmy fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, ei-ther being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or elseI am in desperate straits, and if the latter be so, I need,and shall need, all my brains to get through.

I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard thegreat door below shut, and knew that the Count had re-turned. He did not come at once into the library, so Iwent cautiously to my own room and found him mak-ing the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what Ihad all along thought, that there are no servants in thehouse. When later I saw him through the chink of thehinges of the door laying the table in the dining room, Iwas assured of it. For if he does himself all these menialoffices, surely it is proof that there is no one else in thecastle, it must have been the Count himself who was thedriver of the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible

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thought, for if so, what does it mean that he could controlthe wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand forsilence? How was it that all the people at Bistritz and onthe coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant thegiving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of themountain ash?

Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifixround my neck! For it is a comfort and a strength to mewhenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I havebeen taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrousshould in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is itthat there is something in the essence of the thing itself,or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying mem-ories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be,I must examine this matter and try to make up my mindabout it. In the meantime I must find out all I can aboutCount Dracula, as it may help me to understand. Tonighthe may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way.I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspi-cion.

Midnight.–I have had a long talk with the Count. Iasked him a few questions on Transylvania history, andhe warmed up to the subject wonderfully. In his speakingof things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke

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as if he had been present at them all. This he afterwardsexplained by saying that to a Boyar the pride of his houseand name is his own pride, that their glory is his glory,that their fate is his fate. Whenever he spoke of his househe always said “we“, and spoke almost in the plural, likea king speaking. I wish I could put down all he said ex-actly as he said it, for to me it was most fascinating. Itseemed to have in it a whole history of the country. Hegrew excited as he spoke, and walked about the roompulling his great white moustache and grasping anythingon which he laid his hands as though he would crush itby main strength. One thing he said which I shall putdown as nearly as I can, for it tells in its way the story ofhis race.

“We Szekelys have a right to be proud, for in our veinsflows the blood of many brave races who fought as thelion fights, for lordship. Here, in the whirlpool of Eu-ropean races, the Ugric tribe bore down from Icelandthe fighting spirit which Thor and Wodin gave them,which their Berserkers displayed to such fell intent onthe seaboards of Europe, aye, and of Asia and Africa too,till the peoples thought that the werewolves themselveshad come. Here, too, when they came, they found theHuns, whose warlike fury had swept the earth like a liv-

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ing flame, till the dying peoples held that in their veinsran the blood of those old witches, who, expelled fromScythia had mated with the devils in the desert. Fools,fools! What devil or what witch was ever so great asAttila, whose blood is in these veins?” He held up hisarms. “Is it a wonder that we were a conquering race,that we were proud, that when the Magyar, the Lombard,the Avar, the Bulgar, or the Turk poured his thousands onour frontiers, we drove them back? Is it strange that whenArpad and his legions swept through the Hungarian fa-therland he found us here when he reached the frontier,that the Honfoglalas was completed there? And whenthe Hungarian flood swept eastward, the Szekelys wereclaimed as kindred by the victorious Magyars, and to usfor centuries was trusted the guarding of the frontier ofTurkeyland. Aye, and more than that, endless duty of thefrontier guard, for as the Turks say, ‘water sleeps, and theenemy is sleepless.’ Who more gladly than we through-out the Four Nations received the ‘bloody sword,’ or atits warlike call flocked quicker to the standard of theKing? When was redeemed that great shame of my na-tion, the shame of Cassova, when the flags of the Wallachand the Magyar went down beneath the Crescent? Whowas it but one of my own race who as Voivode crossed

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the Danube and beat the Turk on his own ground? Thiswas a Dracula indeed! Woe was it that his own unworthybrother, when he had fallen, sold his people to the Turkand brought the shame of slavery on them! Was it notthis Dracula, indeed, who inspired that other of his racewho in a later age again and again brought his forces overthe great river into Turkeyland, who, when he was beatenback, came again, and again, though he had to comealone from the bloody field where his troops were beingslaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimatelytriumph! They said that he thought only of himself. Bah!What good are peasants without a leader? Where endsthe war without a brain and heart to conduct it? Again,when, after the battle of Mohacs, we threw off the Hun-garian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst theirleaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were notfree. Ah, young sir, the Szekelys, and the Dracula as theirheart’s blood, their brains, and their swords, can boast arecord that mushroom growths like the Hapsburgs andthe Romanoffs can never reach. The warlike days areover. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dis-honourable peace, and the glories of the great races are asa tale that is told.”

It was by this time close on morning, and we went to

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bed. (Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginningof the “Arabian Nights,” for everything has to break offat cockcrow, or like the ghost of Hamlet’s father.)

12 May.–Let me begin with facts, bare, meager facts,verified by books and figures, and of which there canbe no doubt. I must not confuse them with experienceswhich will have to rest on my own observation, or mymemory of them. Last evening when the Count camefrom his room he began by asking me questions on le-gal matters and on the doing of certain kinds of business.I had spent the day wearily over books, and, simply tokeep my mind occupied, went over some of the matters Ihad been examined in at Lincoln’s Inn. There was a cer-tain method in the Count’s inquiries, so I shall try to putthem down in sequence. The knowledge may somehowor some time be useful to me.

First, he asked if a man in England might have twosolicitors or more. I told him he might have a dozen ifhe wished, but that it would not be wise to have morethan one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as only onecould act at a time, and that to change would be certainto militate against his interest. He seemed thoroughly tounderstand, and went on to ask if there would be anypractical difficulty in having one man to attend, say, to

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banking, and another to look after shipping, in case lo-cal help were needed in a place far from the home of thebanking solicitor. I asked to explain more fully, so that Imight not by any chance mislead him, so he said,

“I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. PeterHawkins, from under the shadow of your beautiful cathe-dral at Exeter, which is far from London, buys for methrough your good self my place at London. Good! Nowhere let me say frankly, lest you should think it strangethat I have sought the services of one so far off from Lon-don instead of some one resident there, that my motivewas that no local interest might be served save my wishonly, and as one of London residence might, perhaps,have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I wentthus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should beonly to my interest. Now, suppose I, who have much ofaffairs, wish to ship goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham,or Harwich, or Dover, might it not be that it could withmore ease be done by consigning to one in these ports?”

I answered that certainly it would be most easy, butthat we solicitors had a system of agency one for theother, so that local work could be done locally on instruc-tion from any solicitor, so that the client, simply placinghimself in the hands of one man, could have his wishes

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carried out by him without further trouble.“But,” said he, “I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is

it not so?”“Of course,” I replied, and “Such is often done by men

of business, who do not like the whole of their affairs tobe known by any one person.”

“Good!” he said, and then went on to ask about themeans of making consignments and the forms to be gonethrough, and of all sorts of difficulties which might arise,but by forethought could be guarded against. I explainedall these things to him to the best of my ability, and he cer-tainly left me under the impression that he would havemade a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that hedid not think of or foresee. For a man who was never inthe country, and who did not evidently do much in theway of business, his knowledge and acumen were won-derful. When he had satisfied himself on these pointsof which he had spoken, and I had verified all as wellas I could by the books available, he suddenly stood upand said, “Have you written since your first letter to ourfriend Mr. Peter Hawkins, or to any other?”

It was with some bitterness in my heart that I answeredthat I had not, that as yet I had not seen any opportunity

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of sending letters to anybody.“Then write now, my young friend,” he said, laying a

heavy hand on my shoulder, “write to our friend and toany other, and say, if it will please you, that you shall staywith me until a month from now.”

“Do you wish me to stay so long?” I asked, for myheart grew cold at the thought.

“I desire it much, nay I will take no refusal. When yourmaster, employer, what you will, engaged that someoneshould come on his behalf, it was understood that myneeds only were to be consulted. I have not stinted. Isit not so?”

What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr.Hawkins’ interest, not mine, and I had to think of him,not myself, and besides, while Count Dracula was speak-ing, there was that in his eyes and in his bearing whichmade me remember that I was a prisoner, and that if Iwished it I could have no choice. The Count saw his vic-tory in my bow, and his mastery in the trouble of my face,for he began at once to use them, but in his own smooth,resistless way.

“I pray you, my good young friend, that you will notdiscourse of things other than business in your letters. It

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will doubtless please your friends to know that you arewell, and that you look forward to getting home to them.Is it not so?” As he spoke he handed me three sheetsof note paper and three envelopes. They were all of thethinnest foreign post, and looking at them, then at him,and noticing his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine teethlying over the red underlip, I understood as well as if hehad spoken that I should be more careful what I wrote,for he would be able to read it. So I determined to writeonly formal notes now, but to write fully to Mr. Hawkinsin secret, and also to Mina, for to her I could write short-hand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it.When I had written my two letters I sat quiet, readinga book whilst the Count wrote several notes, referring ashe wrote them to some books on his table. Then he tookup my two and placed them with his own, and put by hiswriting materials, after which, the instant the door hadclosed behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters,which were face down on the table. I felt no compunctionin doing so for under the circumstances I felt that I shouldprotect myself in every way I could.

One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billing-ton, No. 7, The Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leut-ner, Varna. The third was to Coutts’ Co., London, and

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the fourth to Herren Klopstock’ Billreuth, bankers, BudaPesth. The second and fourth were unsealed. I was justabout to look at them when I saw the door handle move.I sank back in my seat, having just had time to resume mybook before the Count, holding still another letter in hishand, entered the room. He took up the letters on the ta-ble and stamped them carefully, and then turning to me,said,

“I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work todo in private this evening. You will, I hope, find all thingsas you wish.” At the door he turned, and after a mo-ment’s pause said, “Let me advise you, my dear youngfriend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, thatshould you leave these rooms you will not by any chancego to sleep in any other part of the castle. It is old, andhas many memories, and there are bad dreams for thosewho sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now orever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to yourown chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then besafe. But if you be not careful in this respect, then,” Hefinished his speech in a gruesome way, for he motionedwith his hands as if he were washing them. I quite un-derstood. My only doubt was as to whether any dreamcould be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of

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gloom and mystery which seemed closing around me.Later.–I endorse the last words written, but this time

there is no doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep inany place where he is not. I have placed the crucifix overthe head of my bed, I imagine that my rest is thus freerfrom dreams, and there it shall remain.

When he left me I went to my room. After a little while,not hearing any sound, I came out and went up the stonestair to where I could look out towards the South. Therewas some sense of freedom in the vast expanse, inacces-sible though it was to me, as compared with the narrowdarkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt thatI was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breathof fresh air, though it were of the night. I am beginningto feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroy-ing my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full ofall sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows that thereis ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place! Ilooked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yel-low moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the softlight the distant hills became melted, and the shadows inthe valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The merebeauty seemed to cheer me. There was peace and com-fort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the window

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my eye was caught by something moving a storey belowme, and somewhat to my left, where I imagined, fromthe order of the rooms, that the windows of the Count’sown room would look out. The window at which I stoodwas tall and deep, stone-mullioned, and though weath-erworn, was still complete. But it was evidently many aday since the case had been there. I drew back behind thestonework, and looked carefully out.

What I saw was the Count’s head coming out from thewindow. I did not see the face, but I knew the man bythe neck and the movement of his back and arms. In anycase I could not mistake the hands which I had had somemany opportunities of studying. I was at first interestedand somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small amatter will interest and amuse a man when he is a pris-oner. But my very feelings changed to repulsion and ter-ror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge from thewindow and begin to crawl down the castle wall over thedreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading outaround him like great wings. At first I could not believemy eyes. I thought it was some trick of the moonlight,some weird effect of shadow, but I kept looking, and itcould be no delusion. I saw the fingers and toes graspthe corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the

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stress of years, and by thus using every projection and in-equality move downwards with considerable speed, justas a lizard moves along a wall.

What manner of man is this, or what manner of crea-ture, is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of thishorrible place overpowering me. I am in fear, in awfulfear, and there is no escape for me. I am encompassedabout with terrors that I dare not think of.

15 May.–Once more I have seen the count go out in hislizard fashion. He moved downwards in a sidelong way,some hundred feet down, and a good deal to the left. Hevanished into some hole or window. When his head haddisappeared, I leaned out to try and see more, but with-out avail. The distance was too great to allow a properangle of sight. I knew he had left the castle now, andthought to use the opportunity to explore more than I haddared to do as yet. I went back to the room, and taking alamp, tried all the doors. They were all locked, as I hadexpected, and the locks were comparatively new. But Iwent down the stone stairs to the hall where I had en-tered originally. I found I could pull back the bolts easilyenough and unhook the great chains. But the door waslocked, and the key was gone! That key must be in theCount’s room. I must watch should his door be unlocked,

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so that I may get it and escape. I went on to make athorough examination of the various stairs and passages,and to try the doors that opened from them. One or twosmall rooms near the hall were open, but there was noth-ing to see in them except old furniture, dusty with ageand moth-eaten. At last, however, I found one door atthe top of the stairway which, though it seemed locked,gave a little under pressure. I tried it harder, and foundthat it was not really locked, but that the resistance camefrom the fact that the hinges had fallen somewhat, andthe heavy door rested on the floor. Here was an oppor-tunity which I might not have again, so I exerted myself,and with many efforts forced it back so that I could enter.I was now in a wing of the castle further to the right thanthe rooms I knew and a storey lower down. From thewindows I could see that the suite of rooms lay along tothe south of the castle, the windows of the end room look-ing out both west and south. On the latter side, as well asto the former, there was a great precipice. The castle wasbuilt on the corner of a great rock, so that on three sides itwas quite impregnable, and great windows were placedhere where sling, or bow, or culverin could not reach, andconsequently light and comfort, impossible to a positionwhich had to be guarded, were secured. To the west was a

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great valley, and then, rising far away, great jagged moun-tain fastnesses, rising peak on peak, the sheer rock stud-ded with mountain ash and thorn, whose roots clung incracks and crevices and crannies of the stone. This wasevidently the portion of the castle occupied by the ladiesin bygone days, for the furniture had more an air of com-fort than any I had seen.

The windows were curtainless, and the yellow moon-light, flooding in through the diamond panes, enabledone to see even colours, whilst it softened the wealth ofdust which lay over all and disguised in some measurethe ravages of time and moth. My lamp seemed to beof little effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was gladto have it with me, for there was a dread loneliness inthe place which chilled my heart and made my nervestremble. Still, it was better than living alone in the roomswhich I had come to hate from the presence of the Count,and after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a softquietude come over me. Here I am, sitting at a little oaktable where in old times possibly some fair lady sat topen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-speltlove letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all thathas happened since I closed it last. It is the nineteenthcentury up-to-date with a vengeance. And yet, unless my

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senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, pow-ers of their own which mere “modernity” cannot kill.

Later: The morning of 16 May.–God preserve my san-ity, for to this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance ofsafety are things of the past. Whilst I live on here thereis but one thing to hope for, that I may not go mad, if,indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely itis maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurkin this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me,that to him alone I can look for safety, even though thisbe only whilst I can serve his purpose. Great God! Mer-ciful God, let me be calm, for out of that way lies mad-ness indeed. I begin to get new lights on certain thingswhich have puzzled me. Up to now I never quite knewwhat Shakespeare meant when he made Hamlet say, “Mytablets! Quick, my tablets! ‘tis meet that I put it down,”etc., For now, feeling as though my own brain were un-hinged or as if the shock had come which must end inits undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit ofentering accurately must help to soothe me.

The Count’s mysterious warning frightened me at thetime. It frightens me more not when I think of it, for inthe future he has a fearful hold upon me. I shall fear todoubt what he may say!

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When I had written in my diary and had fortunatelyreplaced the book and pen in my pocket I felt sleepy. TheCount’s warning came into my mind, but I took pleasurein disobeying it. The sense of sleep was upon me, andwith it the obstinacy which sleep brings as outrider. Thesoft moonlight soothed, and the wide expanse withoutgave a sense of freedom which refreshed me. I deter-mined not to return tonight to the gloom-haunted rooms,but to sleep here, where, of old, ladies had sat and sungand lived sweet lives whilst their gentle breasts were sadfor their menfolk away in the midst of remorseless wars. Idrew a great couch out of its place near the corner, so thatas I lay, I could look at the lovely view to east and south,and unthinking of and uncaring for the dust, composedmyself for sleep. I suppose I must have fallen asleep. Ihope so, but I fear, for all that followed was startlinglyreal, so real that now sitting here in the broad, full sun-light of the morning, I cannot in the least believe that itwas all sleep.

I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged inany way since I came into it. I could see along the floor, inthe brilliant moonlight, my own footsteps marked whereI had disturbed the long accumulation of dust. In themoonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies

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by their dress and manner. I thought at the time thatI must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw noshadow on the floor. They came close to me, and lookedat me for some time, and then whispered together. Twowere dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count,and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almostred when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. Theother was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses ofgolden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed some-how to know her face, and to know it in connection withsome dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the mo-ment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeththat shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuouslips. There was something about them that made me un-easy, some longing and at the same time some deadlyfear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire thatthey would kiss me with those red lips. It is not goodto note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina’seyes and cause her pain, but it is the truth. They whis-pered together, and then they all three laughed, such asilvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the soundnever could have come through the softness of humanlips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of wa-terglasses when played on by a cunning hand. The fair

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girl shook her head coquettishly, and the other two urgedher on.

One said, “Go on! You are first, and we shall follow.Yours is the right to begin.”

The other added, “He is young and strong. There arekisses for us all.”

I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in anagony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advancedand bent over me till I could feel the movement of herbreath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet,and sent the same tingling through the nerves as hervoice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter of-fensiveness, as one smells in blood.

I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out andsaw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on herknees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was adeliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling andrepulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually lickedher lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlightthe moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the redtongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower andlower went her head as the lips went below the range ofmy mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat.

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Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound ofher tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feelthe hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throatbegan to tingle as one’s flesh does when the hand thatis to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel thesoft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitiveskin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth,just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in lan-guorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart.

But at that instant, another sensation swept through meas quick as lightning. I was conscious of the presence ofthe Count, and of his being as if lapped in a storm of fury.As my eyes opened involuntarily I saw his strong handgrasp the slender neck of the fair woman and with gi-ant’s power draw it back, the blue eyes transformed withfury, the white teeth champing with rage, and the faircheeks blazing red with passion. But the Count! Neverdid I imagine such wrath and fury, even to the demonsof the pit. His eyes were positively blazing. The red lightin them was lurid, as if the flames of hell fire blazed be-hind them. His face was deathly pale, and the lines of itwere hard like drawn wires. The thick eyebrows that metover the nose now seemed like a heaving bar of white-hot metal. With a fierce sweep of his arm, he hurled the

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woman from him, and then motioned to the others, asthough he were beating them back. It was the same im-perious gesture that I had seen used to the wolves. In avoice which, though low and almost in a whisper seemedto cut through the air and then ring in the room he said,

“How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare youcast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell youall! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddlewith him, or you’ll have to deal with me.”

The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned toanswer him. “You yourself never loved. You never love!”On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless,hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it al-most made me faint to hear. It seemed like the pleasureof fiends.

Then the Count turned, after looking at my face atten-tively, and said in a soft whisper, “Yes, I too can love. Youyourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, nowI promise you that when I am done with him you shallkiss him at your will. Now go! Go! I must awaken him,for there is work to be done.”

“Are we to have nothing tonight?” said one of them,with a low laugh, as she pointed to the bag which he had

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thrown upon the floor, and which moved as though therewere some living thing within it. For answer he noddedhis head. One of the women jumped forward and openedit. If my ears did not deceive me there was a gasp and alow wail, as of a half smothered child. The women closedround, whilst I was aghast with horror. But as I looked,they disappeared, and with them the dreadful bag. Therewas no door near them, and they could not have passedme without my noticing. They simply seemed to fadeinto the rays of the moonlight and pass out through thewindow, for I could see outside the dim, shadowy formsfor a moment before they entirely faded away.

Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down uncon-scious.

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNALCONTINUED

I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt,the Count must have carried me here. I tried to satisfymyself on the subject, but could not arrive at any un-questionable result. To be sure, there were certain smallevidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laidby in a manner which was not my habit. My watch wasstill unwound, and I am rigorously accustomed to wind itthe last thing before going to bed, and many such details.

CHAPTER 4

But these things are no proof, for they may have been ev-idences that my mind was not as usual, and, for somecause or another, I had certainly been much upset. I mustwatch for proof. Of one thing I am glad. If it was that theCount carried me here and undressed me, he must havebeen hurried in his task, for my pockets are intact. I amsure this diary would have been a mystery to him whichhe would not have brooked. He would have taken or de-stroyed it. As I look round this room, although it has beento me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for noth-ing can be more dreadful than those awful women, whowere, who are, waiting to suck my blood.

18 May.–I have been down to look at that room againin daylight, for I must know the truth. When I got to thedoorway at the top of the stairs I found it closed. It hadbeen so forcibly driven against the jamb that part of thewoodwork was splintered. I could see that the bolt ofthe lock had not been shot, but the door is fastened fromthe inside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on thissurmise.

19 May.–I am surely in the toils. Last night the Countasked me in the suavest tones to write three letters, onesaying that my work here was nearly done, and that Ishould start for home within a few days, another that I

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was starting on the next morning from the time of the let-ter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived atBistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in thepresent state of things it would be madness to quarrelopenly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in hispower. And to refuse would be to excite his suspicionand to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much,and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him. Myonly chance is to prolong my opportunities. Somethingmay occur which will give me a chance to escape. I sawin his eyes something of that gathering wrath which wasmanifest when he hurled that fair woman from him. Heexplained to me that posts were few and uncertain, andthat my writing now would ensure ease of mind to myfriends. And he assured me with so much impressivenessthat he would countermand the later letters, which wouldbe held over at Bistritz until due time in case chancewould admit of my prolonging my stay, that to opposehim would have been to create new suspicion. I thereforepretended to fall in with his views, and asked him whatdates I should put on the letters.

He calculated a minute, and then said, “The firstshould be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June29.”

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I know now the span of my life. God help me!

28 May.–There is a chance of escape, or at any rate ofbeing able to send word home. A band of Szgany havecome to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard.These are gipsies. I have notes of them in my book. Theyare peculiar to this part of the world, though allied tothe ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are thou-sands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are al-most outside all law. They attach themselves as a ruleto some great noble or boyar, and call themselves by hisname. They are fearless and without religion, save su-perstition, and they talk only their own varieties of theRomany tongue.

I shall write some letters home, and shall try to getthem to have them posted. I have already spoken to themthrough my window to begin acquaintanceship. Theytook their hats off and made obeisance and many signs,which however, I could not understand any more than Icould their spoken language...

I have written the letters. Mina’s is in shorthand, and Isimply ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To herI have explained my situation, but without the horrorswhich I may only surmise. It would shock and frighten

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her to death were I to expose my heart to her. Should theletters not carry, then the Count shall not yet know mysecret or the extent of my knowledge....

I have given the letters. I threw them through the barsof my window with a gold piece, and made what signsI could to have them posted. The man who took thempressed them to his heart and bowed, and then put themin his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to the study,and began to read. As the Count did not come in, I havewritten here...

The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and saidin his smoothest voice as he opened two letters, “The Sz-gany has given me these, of which, though I know notwhence they come, I shall, of course, take care. See!”–He must have looked at it.–”One is from you, and to myfriend Peter Hawkins. The other,”–here he caught sightof the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, andthe dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazedwickedly,–”The other is a vile thing, an outrage uponfriendship and hospitality! It is not signed. Well! So itcannot matter to us.” And he calmly held letter and en-velope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.

Then he went on, “The letter to Hawkins, that I shall,

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of course send on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacredto me. Your pardon, my friend, that unknowingly I didbreak the seal. Will you not cover it again?” He held outthe letter to me, and with a courteous bow handed me aclean envelope.

I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence.When he went out of the room I could hear the key turnsoftly. A minute later I went over and tried it, and thedoor was locked.

When, an hour or two after, the Count came quietlyinto the room, his coming awakened me, for I had goneto sleep on the sofa. He was very courteous and verycheery in his manner, and seeing that I had been sleeping,he said, “So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There isthe surest rest. I may not have the pleasure of talk tonight,since there are many labours to me, but you will sleep, Ipray.”

I passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange tosay, slept without dreaming. Despair has its own calms.

31 May.–This morning when I woke I thought I wouldprovide myself with some papers and envelopes from mybag and keep them in my pocket, so that I might writein case I should get an opportunity, but again a surprise,

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again a shock!

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all mynotes, my memoranda, relating to railways and travel,my letter of credit, in fact all that might be useful to mewere I once outside the castle. I sat and pondered awhile,and then some thought occurred to me, and I made searchof my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I hadplaced my clothes.

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also myovercoat and rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere.This looked like some new scheme of villainy...

17 June.–This morning, as I was sitting on the edge ofmy bed cudgelling my brains, I heard without a crack-ling of whips and pounding and scraping of horses’ feetup the rocky path beyond the courtyard. With joy I hur-ried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two greatleiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and atthe head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, greatnail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots. Theyhad also their long staves in hand. I ran to the door, in-tending to descend and try and join them through themain hall, as I thought that way might be opened forthem. Again a shock, my door was fastened on the out-

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side.Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They

looked up at me stupidly and pointed, but just thenthe “hetman” of the Szgany came out, and seeing thempointing to my window, said something, at which theylaughed.

Henceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or ago-nized entreaty, would make them even look at me. Theyresolutely turned away. The leiter-wagons containedgreat, square boxes, with handles of thick rope. Thesewere evidently empty by the ease with which the Slo-vaks handled them, and by their resonance as they wereroughly moved.

When they were all unloaded and packed in a greatheap in one corner of the yard, the Slovaks were givensome money by the Szgany, and spitting on it for luck,lazily went each to his horse’s head. Shortly afterwards,I heard the crackling of their whips die away in the dis-tance.

24 June.–Last night the Count left me early, and lockedhimself into his own room. As soon as I dared I ran upthe winding stair, and looked out of the window, whichopened South. I thought I would watch for the Count,

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for there is something going on. The Szgany are quar-tered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of somekind. I know it, for now and then, I hear a far-away muf-fled sound as of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is,it must be the end of some ruthless villainy.

I had been at the window somewhat less than half anhour, when I saw something coming out of the Count’swindow. I drew back and watched carefully, and saw thewhole man emerge. It was a new shock to me to findthat he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn whilsttravelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terriblebag which I had seen the women take away. There couldbe no doubt as to his quest, and in my garb, too! This,then, is his new scheme of evil, that he will allow others tosee me, as they think, so that he may both leave evidencethat I have been seen in the towns or villages posting myown letters, and that any wickedness which he may doshall by the local people be attributed to me.

It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilstI am shut up here, a veritable prisoner, but without thatprotection of the law which is even a criminal’s right andconsolation.

I thought I would watch for the Count’s return, and

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for a long time sat doggedly at the window. Then I be-gan to notice that there were some quaint little specksfloating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like thetiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gath-ered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched themwith a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole overme. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfort-able position, so that I could enjoy more fully the aerialgambolling.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howlingof dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which washidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in myears, and the floating moats of dust to take new shapes tothe sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myselfstruggling to awake to some call of my instincts. Nay, myvery soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sen-sibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becominghypnotised!

Quicker and quicker danced the dust. The moonbeamsseemed to quiver as they went by me into the mass ofgloom beyond. More and more they gathered till theyseemed to take dim phantom shapes. And then I started,broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ranscreaming from the place.

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The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradu-ally materialised from the moonbeams, were those threeghostly women to whom I was doomed.

I fled, and felt somewhat safer in my own room, wherethere was no moonlight, and where the lamp was burningbrightly.

When a couple of hours had passed I heard somethingstirring in the Count’s room, something like a sharp wailquickly suppressed. And then there was silence, deep,awful silence, which chilled me. With a beating heart, Itried the door, but I was locked in my prison, and coulddo nothing. I sat down and simply cried.

As I sat I heard a sound in the courtyard without, theagonised cry of a woman. I rushed to the window, andthrowing it up, peered between the bars.

There, indeed, was a woman with dishevelled hair,holding her hands over her heart as one distressed withrunning. She was leaning against the corner of the gate-way. When she saw my face at the window she threwherself forward, and shouted in a voice laden with men-ace, “Monster, give me my child!”

She threw herself on her knees, and raising up herhands, cried the same words in tones which wrung my

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heart. Then she tore her hair and beat her breast, andabandoned herself to all the violences of extravagantemotion. Finally, she threw herself forward, and thoughI could not see her, I could hear the beating of her nakedhands against the door.

Somewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, Iheard the voice of the Count calling in his harsh, metal-lic whisper. His call seemed to be answered from far andwide by the howling of wolves. Before many minutes hadpassed a pack of them poured, like a pent-up dam whenliberated, through the wide entrance into the courtyard.

There was no cry from the woman, and the howlingof the wolves was but short. Before long they streamedaway singly, licking their lips.

I could not pity her, for I knew now what had becomeof her child, and she was better dead.

What shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape fromthis dreadful thing of night, gloom, and fear?

25 June.–No man knows till he has suffered from thenight how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morn-ing can be. When the sun grew so high this morning thatit struck the top of the great gateway opposite my win-dow, the high spot which it touched seemed to me as if

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the dove from the ark had lighted there. My fear fell fromme as if it had been a vaporous garment which dissolvedin the warmth.

I must take action of some sort whilst the courage of theday is upon me. Last night one of my post-dated letterswent to post, the first of that fatal series which is to blotout the very traces of my existence from the earth.

Let me not think of it. Action!It has always been at night-time that I have been mo-

lested or threatened, or in some way in danger or in fear.I have not yet seen the Count in the daylight. Can it bethat he sleeps when others wake, that he may be awakewhilst they sleep? If I could only get into his room! Butthere is no possible way. The door is always locked, noway for me.

Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where hisbody has gone why may not another body go? I haveseen him myself crawl from his window. Why should notI imitate him, and go in by his window? The chances aredesperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shall riskit. At the worst it can only be death, and a man’s death isnot a calf’s, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be opento me. God help me in my task! Goodbye, Mina, if I fail.

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Goodbye, my faithful friend and second father. Goodbye,all, and last of all Mina!

Same day, later.–I have made the effort, and God help-ing me, have come safely back to this room. I must putdown every detail in order. I went whilst my couragewas fresh straight to the window on the south side, andat once got outside on this side. The stones are big androughly cut, and the mortar has by process of time beenwashed away between them. I took off my boots, andventured out on the desperate way. I looked down once,so as to make sure that a sudden glimpse of the awfuldepth would not overcome me, but after that kept myeyes away from it. I know pretty well the direction anddistance of the Count’s window, and made for it as wellas I could, having regard to the opportunities available.I did not feel dizzy, I suppose I was too excited, and thetime seemed ridiculously short till I found myself stand-ing on the window sill and trying to raise up the sash. Iwas filled with agitation, however, when I bent down andslid feet foremost in through the window. Then I lookedaround for the Count, but with surprise and gladness,made a discovery. The room was empty! It was barelyfurnished with odd things, which seemed to have neverbeen used.

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The furniture was something the same style as that inthe south rooms, and was covered with dust. I looked forthe key, but it was not in the lock, and I could not findit anywhere. The only thing I found was a great heap ofgold in one corner, gold of all kinds, Roman, and British,and Austrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkishmoney, covered with a film of dust, as though it had lainlong in the ground. None of it that I noticed was less thanthree hundred years old. There were also chains and or-naments, some jewelled, but all of them old and stained.

At one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it,for, since I could not find the key of the room or the key ofthe outer door, which was the main object of my search,I must make further examination, or all my efforts wouldbe in vain. It was open, and led through a stone passageto a circular stairway, which went steeply down.

I descended, minding carefully where I went for thestairs were dark, being only lit by loopholes in the heavymasonry. At the bottom there was a dark, tunnel-likepassage, through which came a deathly, sickly odour, theodour of old earth newly turned. As I went through thepassage the smell grew closer and heavier. At last I pulledopen a heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself inan old ruined chapel, which had evidently been used as a

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graveyard. The roof was broken, and in two places weresteps leading to vaults, but the ground had recently beendug over, and the earth placed in great wooden boxes,manifestly those which had been brought by the Slovaks.

There was nobody about, and I made a search over ev-ery inch of the ground, so as not to lose a chance. I wentdown even into the vaults, where the dim light struggled,although to do so was a dread to my very soul. Into twoof these I went, but saw nothing except fragments of oldcoffins and piles of dust. In the third, however, I made adiscovery.

There, in one of the great boxes, of which there werefifty in all, on a pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count!He was either dead or asleep. I could not say which, foreyes were open and stony, but without the glassiness ofdeath, and the cheeks had the warmth of life through alltheir pallor. The lips were as red as ever. But there wasno sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no beating ofthe heart.

I bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, butin vain. He could not have lain there long, for the earthysmell would have passed away in a few hours. By theside of the box was its cover, pierced with holes here and

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there. I thought he might have the keys on him, but whenI went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them deadthough they were, such a look of hate, though uncon-scious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place,and leaving the Count’s room by the window, crawledagain up the castle wall. Regaining my room, I threw my-self panting upon the bed and tried to think.

29 June.–Today is the date of my last letter, and theCount has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, foragain I saw him leave the castle by the same window, andin my clothes. As he went down the wall, lizard fashion,I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, that I mightdestroy him. But I fear that no weapon wrought along byman’s hand would have any effect on him. I dared notwait to see him return, for I feared to see those weird sis-ters. I came back to the library, and read there till I fellasleep.

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me asgrimly as a man could look as he said, “Tomorrow, myfriend, we must part. You return to your beautiful Eng-land, I to some work which may have such an end that wemay never meet. Your letter home has been despatched.Tomorrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready foryour journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have

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some labours of their own here, and also come some Slo-vaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come foryou, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the dili-gence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am in hopes that Ishall see more of you at Castle Dracula.”

I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity.Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to writeit in connection with such a monster, so I asked him point-blank, “Why may I not go tonight?”

“Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are awayon a mission.”

“But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away atonce.”

He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that Iknew there was some trick behind his smoothness. Hesaid, “And your baggage?”

“I do not care about it. I can send for it some othertime.”

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesywhich made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real, “YouEnglish have a saying which is close to my heart, for itsspirit is that which rules our boyars, ‘Welcome the com-ing, speed the parting guest.’ Come with me, my dear

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young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my houseagainst your will, though sad am I at your going, andthat you so suddenly desire it. Come!” With a statelygravity, he, with the lamp, preceded me down the stairsand along the hall. Suddenly he stopped. “Hark!”

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. Itwas almost as if the sound sprang up at the rising of hishand, just as the music of a great orchestra seems to leapunder the baton of the conductor. After a pause of a mo-ment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drewback the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains,and began to draw it open.

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked.Suspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key ofany kind.

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolveswithout grew louder and angrier. Their red jaws, withchamping teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as theyleaped, came in through the opening door. I knew thanthat to struggle at the moment against the Count was use-less. With such allies as these at his command, I could donothing.

But still the door continued slowly to open, and only

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the Count’s body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck methat this might be the moment and means of my doom.I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instiga-tion. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea greatenough for the Count, and as the last chance I cried out,“Shut the door! I shall wait till morning.” And I coveredmy face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disap-pointment.

With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threwthe door shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoedthrough the hall as they shot back into their places.

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minuteor two I went to my own room. The last I saw of CountDracula was his kissing his hand to me, with a red lightof triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hellmight be proud of.

When I was in my room and about to lie down, Ithought I heard a whispering at my door. I went to itsoftly and listened. Unless my ears deceived me, I heardthe voice of the Count.

“Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yetcome. Wait! Have patience! Tonight is mine. Tomorrownight is yours!”

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There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rageI threw open the door, and saw without the three terriblewomen licking their lips. As I appeared, they all joined ina horrible laugh, and ran away.

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees.It is then so near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord,help me, and those to whom I am dear!

30 June.–These may be the last words I ever write inthis diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when Iwoke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that ifDeath came he should find me ready.

At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knewthat the morning had come. Then came the welcomecockcrow, and I felt that I was safe. With a glad heart,I opened the door and ran down the hall. I had seen thatthe door was unlocked, and now escape was before me.With hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked thechains and threw back the massive bolts.

But the door would not move. Despair seized me. Ipulled and pulled at the door, and shook it till, massiveas it was, it rattled in its casement. I could see the boltshot. It had been locked after I left the Count.

Then a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk,

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and I determined then and there to scale the wall again,and gain the Count’s room. He might kill me, but deathnow seemed the happier choice of evils. Without a pauseI rushed up to the east window, and scrambled down thewall, as before, into the Count’s room. It was empty, butthat was as I expected. I could not see a key anywhere,but the heap of gold remained. I went through the doorin the corner and down the winding stair and along thedark passage to the old chapel. I knew now well enoughwhere to find the monster I sought.

The great box was in the same place, close against thewall, but the lid was laid on it, not fastened down, butwith the nails ready in their places to be hammered home.

I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raisedthe lid, and laid it back against the wall. And then I sawsomething which filled my very soul with horror. Therelay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half re-stored. For the white hair and moustache were changedto dark iron-grey. The cheeks were fuller, and the whiteskin seemed ruby-red underneath. The mouth was red-der than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood,which trickled from the corners of the mouth and randown over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burningeyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and

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pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if thewhole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. Helay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.

I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and everysense in me revolted at the contact, but I had to search,or I was lost. The coming night might see my own bodya banquet in a similar war to those horrid three. I felt allover the body, but no sign could I find of the key. Then Istopped and looked at the Count. There was a mockingsmile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad.This was the being I was helping to transfer to London,where, perhaps, for centuries to come he might, amongstits teeming millions, satiate his lust for blood, and createa new and ever-widening circle of semi-demons to battenon the helpless.

The very thought drove me mad. A terrible desirecame upon me to rid the world of such a monster. Therewas no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized a shovel whichthe workmen had been using to fill the cases, and lifting ithigh, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful face.But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell upon me,with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemedto paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand andglanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above

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the forehead. The shovel fell from my hand across thebox, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caughtthe edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the hor-rid thing from my sight. The last glimpse I had was ofthe bloated face, blood-stained and fixed with a grin ofmalice which would have held its own in the nethermosthell.

I thought and thought what should be my next move,but my brain seemed on fire, and I waited with a de-spairing feeling growing over me. As I waited I heard inthe distance a gipsy song sung by merry voices comingcloser, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheelsand the cracking of whips. The Szgany and the Slovaksof whom the Count had spoken were coming. With a lastlook around and at the box which contained the vile body,I ran from the place and gained the Count’s room, de-termined to rush out at the moment the door should beopened. With strained ears, I listened, and heard down-stairs the grinding of the key in the great lock and thefalling back of the heavy door. There must have beensome other means of entry, or some one had a key forone of the locked doors.

Then there came the sound of many feet tramping anddying away in some passage which sent up a clanging

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echo. I turned to run down again towards the vault,where I might find the new entrance, but at the momentthere seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the doorto the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dustfrom the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I foundthat it was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and thenet of doom was closing round me more closely.

As I write there is in the passage below a sound ofmany tramping feet and the crash of weights being setdown heavily, doubtless the boxes, with their freight ofearth. There was a sound of hammering. It is the box be-ing nailed down. Now I can hear the heavy feet trampingagain along the hall, with many other idle feet comingbehind them.

The door is shut, the chains rattle. There is a grindingof the key in the lock. I can hear the key withdrawn, thenanother door opens and shuts. I hear the creaking of lockand bolt.

Hark! In the courtyard and down the rocky way theroll of heavy wheels, the crack of whips, and the chorusof the Szgany as they pass into the distance.

I am alone in the castle with those horrible women.Faugh! Mina is a woman, and there is nought in com-

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mon. They are devils of the Pit!I shall not remain alone with them. I shall try to scale

the castle wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shalltake some of the gold with me, lest I want it later. I mayfind a way from this dreadful place.

And then away for home! Away to the quickest andnearest train! Away from the cursed spot, from thiscursed land, where the devil and his children still walkwith earthly feet!

At least God’s mercy is better than that of those mon-sters, and the precipice is steep and high. At its foot aman may sleep, as a man. Goodbye, all. Mina!

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LETTER FROM MISS MINA MURRAYTO MISS LUCY WESTENRA

9 May.My dearest Lucy,Forgive my long delay in writing, but I havebeen simply overwhelmed with work. Thelife of an assistant schoolmistress is some-times trying. I am longing to be with you, andby the sea, where we can talk together freelyand build our castles in the air. I have been

CHAPTER 5

working very hard lately, because I want tokeep up with Jonathan’s studies, and I havebeen practicing shorthand very assiduously.When we are married I shall be able to be use-ful to Jonathan, and if I can stenograph wellenough I can take down what he wants to sayin this way and write it out for him on thetypewriter, at which also I am practicing veryhard.

He and I sometimes write letters in short-hand, and he is keeping a stenographic jour-nal of his travels abroad. When I am withyou I shall keep a diary in the same way.I don’t mean one of those two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed- in-a-corner di-aries, but a sort of journal which I can writein whenever I feel inclined.

I do not suppose there will be much of in-terest to other people, but it is not intendedfor them. I may show it to Jonathan someday if there is in it anything worth sharing,but it is really an exercise book. I shall try todo what I see lady journalists do, interview-

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ing and writing descriptions and trying to re-member conversations. I am told that, with alittle practice, one can remember all that goeson or that one hears said during a day.

However, we shall see. I will tell you of mylittle plans when we meet. I have just had afew hurried lines from Jonathan from Tran-sylvania. He is well, and will be returning inabout a week. I am longing to hear all hisnews. It must be nice to see strange coun-tries. I wonder if we, I mean Jonathan andI, shall ever see them together. There is theten o’clock bell ringing. Goodbye.

Your loving

Mina

Tell me all the news when you write. You have nottold me anything for a long time. I hear rumours, andespecially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???

LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA MURRAY

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17, Chatham StreetWednesday

My dearest Mina,

I must say you tax me very unfairly with be-ing a bad correspondent. I wrote you twicesince we parted, and your last letter was onlyyour second. Besides, I have nothing to tellyou. There is really nothing to interest you.

Town is very pleasant just now, and we go agreat deal to picture-galleries and for walksand rides in the park. As to the tall, curly-haired man, I suppose it was the one whowas with me at the last Pop. Someone hasevidently been telling tales.

That was Mr. Holmwood. He often comesto see us, and he and Mamma get on verywell together, they have so many things totalk about in common.

We met some time ago a man that would justdo for you, if you were not already engagedto Jonathan. He is an excellent parti, beinghandsome, well off, and of good birth. He

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is a doctor and really clever. Just fancy! Heis only nine-and twenty, and he has an im-mense lunatic asylum all under his own care.Mr. Holmwood introduced him to me, andhe called here to see us, and often comes now.I think he is one of the most resolute men Iever saw, and yet the most calm. He seemsabsolutely imperturbable. I can fancy what awonderful power he must have over his pa-tients. He has a curious habit of looking onestraight in the face, as if trying to read one’sthoughts. He tries this on very much withme, but I flatter myself he has got a tough nutto crack. I know that from my glass.

Do you ever try to read your own face? Ido, and I can tell you it is not a bad study,and gives you more trouble than you can wellfancy if you have never tried it.

He says that I afford him a curious psycho-logical study, and I humbly think I do. I donot, as you know, take sufficient interest indress to be able to describe the new fashions.Dress is a bore. That is slang again, but never

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mind. Arthur says that every day.There, it is all out, Mina, we have told allour secrets to each other since we were chil-dren. We have slept together and eaten to-gether, and laughed and cried together, andnow, though I have spoken, I would like tospeak more. Oh, Mina, couldn’t you guess?I love him. I am blushing as I write, for al-though I think he loves me, he has not toldme so in words. But, oh, Mina, I love him. Ilove him! There, that does me good.I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fireundressing, as we used to sit, and I would tryto tell you what I feel. I do not know how Iam writing this even to you. I am afraid tostop, or I should tear up the letter, and I don’twant to stop, for I do so want to tell you all.Let me hear from you at once, and tell me allthat you think about it. Mina, pray for myhappiness.LucyP.S.–I need not tell you this is a secret. Good-night again. L.

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LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA MURRAY

24 MayMy dearest Mina,Thanks, and thanks, and thanks again foryour sweet letter. It was so nice to be ableto tell you and to have your sympathy.My dear, it never rains but it pours. How truethe old proverbs are. Here am I, who shallbe twenty in September, and yet I never hada proposal till today, not a real proposal, andtoday I had three. Just fancy! Three proposalsin one day! Isn’t it awful! I feel sorry, reallyand truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows.Oh, Mina, I am so happy that I don’t knowwhat to do with myself. And three propos-als! But, for goodness’ sake, don’t tell any ofthe girls, or they would be getting all sorts ofextravagant ideas, and imagining themselvesinjured and slighted if in their very first dayat home they did not get six at least. Somegirls are so vain! You and I, Mina dear, whoare engaged and are going to settle down

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soon soberly into old married women, candespise vanity. Well, I must tell you aboutthe three, but you must keep it a secret, dear,from every one except, of course, Jonathan.You will tell him, because I would, if I werein your place, certainly tell Arthur. A womanought to tell her husband everything. Don’tyou think so, dear? And I must be fair. Menlike women, certainly their wives, to be quiteas fair as they are. And women, I am afraid,are not always quite as fair as they should be.

Well, my dear, number One came just beforelunch. I told you of him, Dr. John Seward,the lunatic asylum man, with the strong jawand the good forehead. He was very cool out-wardly, but was nervous all the same. Hehad evidently been schooling himself as to allsorts of little things, and remembered them,but he almost managed to sit down on his silkhat, which men don’t generally do when theyare cool, and then when he wanted to appearat ease he kept playing with a lancet in a waythat made me nearly scream. He spoke tome, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told

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me how dear I was to him, though he hadknown me so little, and what his life wouldbe with me to help and cheer him. He wasgoing to tell me how unhappy he would beif I did not care for him, but when he saw mecry he said he was a brute and would not addto my present trouble. Then he broke off andasked if I could love him in time, and when Ishook my head his hands trembled, and thenwith some hesitation he asked me if I caredalready for any one else. He put it very nicely,saying that he did not want to wring my con-fidence from me, but only to know, because ifa woman’s heart was free a man might havehope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty totell him that there was some one. I only toldhim that much, and then he stood up, andhe looked very strong and very grave as hetook both my hands in his and said he hopedI would be happy, and that If I ever wanted afriend I must count him one of my best.

Oh, Mina dear, I can’t help crying, and youmust excuse this letter being all blotted. Be-ing proposed to is all very nice and all that

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sort of thing, but it isn’t at all a happy thingwhen you have to see a poor fellow, whomyou know loves you honestly, going awayand looking all broken hearted, and to knowthat, no matter what he may say at the mo-ment, you are passing out of his life. My dear,I must stop here at present, I feel so miserable,though I am so happy.

Evening.

Arthur has just gone, and I feel in better spir-its than when I left off, so I can go on tellingyou about the day.

Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch.He is such a nice fellow, an American fromTexas, and he looks so young and so freshthat it seems almost impossible that he hasbeen to so many places and has such adven-tures. I sympathize with poor Desdemonawhen she had such a stream poured in herear, even by a black man. I suppose that wewomen are such cowards that we think a manwill save us from fears, and we marry him. Iknow now what I would do if I were a man

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and wanted to make a girl love me. No, Idon’t, for there was Mr. Morris telling us hisstories, and Arthur never told any, and yet...

My dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr.Quincy P. Morris found me alone. It seemsthat a man always does find a girl alone. No,he doesn’t, for Arthur tried twice to make achance, and I helping him all I could, I amnot ashamed to say it now. I must tell youbeforehand that Mr. Morris doesn’t alwaysspeak slang, that is to say, he never does so tostrangers or before them, for he is really welleducated and has exquisite manners, but hefound out that it amused me to hear him talkAmerican slang, and whenever I was present,and there was no one to be shocked, he saidsuch funny things. I am afraid, my dear, hehas to invent it all, for it fits exactly into what-ever else he has to say. But this is a way slanghas. I do not know myself if I shall ever speakslang. I do not know if Arthur likes it, as Ihave never heard him use any as yet.

Well, Mr. Morris sat down beside me and

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looked as happy and jolly as he could, but Icould see all the same that he was very ner-vous. He took my hand in his, and said everso sweetly...

“Miss Lucy, I know I ain’t good enough toregulate the fixin’s of your little shoes, but Iguess if you wait till you find a man that isyou will go join them seven young womenwith the lamps when you quit. Won’t you justhitch up alongside of me and let us go downthe long road together, driving in double har-ness?”

Well, he did look so good humoured and sojolly that it didn’t seem half so hard to refusehim as it did poor Dr. Seward. So I said, aslightly as I could, that I did not know any-thing of hitching, and that I wasn’t broken toharness at all yet. Then he said that he hadspoken in a light manner, and he hoped thatif he had made a mistake in doing so on sograve, so momentous, and occasion for him,I would forgive him. He really did look se-rious when he was saying it, and I couldn’t

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help feeling a sort of exultation that he wasnumber Two in one day. And then, my dear,before I could say a word he began pouringout a perfect torrent of love-making, layinghis very heart and soul at my feet. He lookedso earnest over it that I shall never againthink that a man must be playful always, andnever earnest, because he is merry at times. Isuppose he saw something in my face whichchecked him, for he suddenly stopped, andsaid with a sort of manly fervour that I couldhave loved him for if I had been free...

“Lucy, you are an honest hearted girl, I know.I should not be here speaking to you as I amnow if I did not believe you clean grit, rightthrough to the very depths of your soul. Tellme, like one good fellow to another, is thereany one else that you care for? And if there isI’ll never trouble you a hair’s breadth again,but will be, if you will let me, a very faithfulfriend.”

My dear Mina, why are men so noble whenwe women are so little worthy of them? Here

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was I almost making fun of this great hearted,true gentleman. I burst into tears, I am afraid,my dear, you will think this a very sloppy let-ter in more ways than one, and I really feltvery badly.

Why can’t they let a girl marry three men, oras many as want her, and save all this trou-ble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it.I am glad to say that, though I was crying, Iwas able to look into Mr. Morris’ brave eyes,and I told him out straight...

“Yes, there is some one I love, though he hasnot told me yet that he even loves me.” I wasright to speak to him so frankly, for quite alight came into his face, and he put out bothhis hands and took mine, I think I put theminto his, and said in a hearty way...

“That’s my brave girl. It’s better worth beinglate for a chance of winning you than beingin time for any other girl in the world. Don’tcry, my dear. If it’s for me, I’m a hard nut tocrack, and I take it standing up. If that otherfellow doesn’t know his happiness, well, he’d

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better look for it soon, or he’ll have to dealwith me. Little girl, your honesty and pluckhave made me a friend, and that’s rarer than alover, it’s more selfish anyhow. My dear, I’mgoing to have a pretty lonely walk betweenthis and Kingdom Come. Won’t you give meone kiss? It’ll be something to keep off thedarkness now and then. You can, you know,if you like, for that other good fellow, or youcould not love him, hasn’t spoken yet.”

That quite won me, Mina, for it was braveand sweet of him, and noble too, to a rival,wasn’t it? And he so sad, so I leant over andkissed him.

He stood up with my two hands in his, andas he looked down into my face, I am afraid Iwas blushing very much, he said, “Little girl,I hold your hand, and you’ve kissed me, andif these things don’t make us friends nothingever will. Thank you for your sweet honestyto me, and goodbye.”

He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat,went straight out of the room without look-

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ing back, without a tear or a quiver or apause, and I am crying like a baby.

Oh, why must a man like that be made un-happy when there are lots of girls about whowould worship the very ground he trod on? Iknow I would if I were free, only I don’t wantto be free. My dear, this quite upset me, andI feel I cannot write of happiness just at once,after telling you of it, and I don’t wish to tellof the number Three until it can be all happy.Ever your loving„,

Lucy

P.S.–Oh, about number Three, I needn’t tellyou of number Three, need I? Besides, it wasall so confused. It seemed only a momentfrom his coming into the room till both hisarms were round me, and he was kissing me.I am very, very happy, and I don’t know whatI have done to deserve it. I must only try inthe future to show that I am not ungrateful toGod for all His goodness to me in sending tome such a lover, such a husband, and such afriend.

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Goodbye.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY (Kept in phonograph)

25 May.–Ebb tide in appetite today. Cannoteat, cannot rest, so diary instead. Since myrebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feel-ing. Nothing in the world seems of sufficientimportance to be worth the doing. As I knewthat the only cure for this sort of thing waswork, I went amongst the patients. I pickedout one who has afforded me a study of muchinterest. He is so quaint that I am determinedto understand him as well as I can. Today Iseemed to get nearer than ever before to theheart of his mystery.I questioned him more fully than I had everdone, with a view to making myself masterof the facts of his hallucination. In my man-ner of doing it there was, I now see, some-thing of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep himto the point of his madness, a thing which Iavoid with the patients as I would the mouthof hell.

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(Mem., Under what circumstances would Inot avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romae ve-nalia sunt. Hell has its price! If there be any-thing behind this instinct it will be valuable totrace it afterwards accurately, so I had bettercommence to do so, therefore...R. M, Renfield, age 59. Sanguine tempera-ment, great physical strength, morbidly ex-citable, periods of gloom, ending in somefixed idea which I cannot make out. Ipresume that the sanguine temperament it-self and the disturbing influence end ina mentally-accomplished finish, a possiblydangerous man, probably dangerous if un-selfish. In selfish men caution is as securean armour for their foes as for themselves.What I think of on this point is, when selfis the fixed point the centripetal force is bal-anced with the centrifugal. When duty, acause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter forceis paramount, and only accident or a series ofaccidents can balance it.

LETTER, QUINCEY P. MORRIS TO HON. ARTHUR

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HOLMOOD

25 May.

My dear Art,

We’ve told yarns by the campfire in theprairies, and dressed one another’s woundsafter trying a landing at the Marquesas, anddrunk healths on the shore of Titicaca. Thereare more yarns to be told, and other woundsto be healed, and another health to be drunk.Won’t you let this be at my campfire tomor-row night? I have no hesitation in asking you,as I know a certain lady is engaged to a cer-tain dinner party, and that you are free. Therewill only be one other, our old pal at the Ko-rea, Jack Seward. He’s coming, too, and weboth want to mingle our weeps over the winecup, and to drink a health with all our heartsto the happiest man in all the wide world,who has won the noblest heart that God hasmade and best worth winning. We promiseyou a hearty welcome, and a loving greeting,and a health as true as your own right hand.

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We shall both swear to leave you at home ifyou drink too deep to a certain pair of eyes.Come!Yours, as ever and always,Quincey P. Morris

TELEGRAM FROM ARTHUR HOLMWOOD TOQUINCEY P. MORRIS

26 MayCount me in every time. I bear messageswhich will make both your ears tingle.Art

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MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL

24 July. Whitby.–Lucy met me at the sta-tion, looking sweeter and lovelier than ever,and we drove up to the house at the Cres-cent in which they have rooms. This is alovely place. The little river, the Esk, runsthrough a deep valley, which broadens out asit comes near the harbour. A great viaductruns across, with high piers, through whichthe view seems somehow further away thanit really is. The valley is beautifully green,

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and it is so steep that when you are on thehigh land on either side you look right acrossit, unless you are near enough to see down.The houses of the old town–the side awayfrom us, are all red-roofed, and seem piled upone over the other anyhow, like the pictureswe see of Nuremberg. Right over the town isthe ruin of Whitby Abbey, which was sackedby the Danes, and which is the scene of partof “Marmion,” where the girl was built upin the wall. It is a most noble ruin, of im-mense size, and full of beautiful and roman-tic bits. There is a legend that a white lady isseen in one of the windows. Between it andthe town there is another church, the parishone, round which is a big graveyard, all fullof tombstones. This is to my mind the nicestspot in Whitby, for it lies right over the town,and has a full view of the harbour and all upthe bay to where the headland called Kettle-ness stretches out into the sea. It descends sosteeply over the harbour that part of the bankhas fallen away, and some of the graves havebeen destroyed.

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In one place part of the stonework of thegraves stretches out over the sandy pathwayfar below. There are walks, with seats besidethem, through the churchyard, and people goand sit there all day long looking at the beau-tiful view and enjoying the breeze.

I shall come and sit here often myself andwork. Indeed, I am writing now, with mybook on my knee, and listening to the talkof three old men who are sitting beside me.They seem to do nothing all day but sit hereand talk.

The harbour lies below me, with, on the farside, one long granite wall stretching out intothe sea, with a curve outwards at the end ofit, in the middle of which is a lighthouse. Aheavy seawall runs along outside of it. Onthe near side, the seawall makes an elbowcrooked inversely, and its end too has a light-house. Between the two piers there is a nar-row opening into the harbour, which thensuddenly widens.

It is nice at high water, but when the tide

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is out it shoals away to nothing, and thereis merely the stream of the Esk, running be-tween banks of sand, with rocks here andthere. Outside the harbour on this side thererises for about half a mile a great reef, thesharp of which runs straight out from be-hind the south lighthouse. At the end of itis a buoy with a bell, which swings in badweather, and sends in a mournful sound onthe wind.

They have a legend here that when a ship islost bells are heard out at sea. I must ask theold man about this. He is coming this way...

He is a funny old man. He must be awfullyold, for his face is gnarled and twisted like thebark of a tree. He tells me that he is nearlya hundred, and that he was a sailor in theGreenland fishing fleet when Waterloo wasfought. He is, I am afraid, a very scepticalperson, for when I asked him about the bellsat sea and the White Lady at the abbey hesaid very brusquely,

“I wouldn’t fash masel’ about them, miss.

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Them things be all wore out. Mind, I don’tsay that they never was, but I do say that theywasn’t in my time. They be all very well forcomers and trippers, an’ the like, but not fora nice young lady like you. Them feet-folksfrom York and Leeds that be always eatin’cured herrin’s and drinkin’ tea an’ lookin’ outto buy cheap jet would creed aught. I won-der masel’ who’d be bothered tellin’ lies tothem, even the newspapers, which is full offool-talk.”

I thought he would be a good person to learninteresting things from, so I asked him if hewould mind telling me something about thewhale fishing in the old days. He was just set-tling himself to begin when the clock strucksix, whereupon he laboured to get up, andsaid,

“I must gang ageeanwards home now, miss.My grand-daughter doesn’t like to be keptwaitin’ when the tea is ready, for it takes metime to crammle aboon the grees, for there bea many of ‘em, and miss, I lack belly-timber

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sairly by the clock.”He hobbled away, and I could see him hurry-ing, as well as he could, down the steps. Thesteps are a great feature on the place. Theylead from the town to the church, there arehundreds of them, I do not know how many,and they wind up in a delicate curve. Theslope is so gentle that a horse could easilywalk up and down them.I think they must originally have had some-thing to do with the abbey. I shall go hometoo. Lucy went out, visiting with her mother,and as they were only duty calls, I did not go.1 August.–I came up here an hour ago withLucy, and we had a most interesting talk withmy old friend and the two others who alwayscome and join him. He is evidently the SirOracle of them, and I should think must havebeen in his time a most dictatorial person.He will not admit anything, and down faceseverybody. If he can’t out-argue them hebullies them, and then takes their silence foragreement with his views.

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Lucy was looking sweetly pretty in her whitelawn frock. She has got a beautiful coloursince she has been here.

I noticed that the old men did not lose anytime in coming and sitting near her when wesat down. She is so sweet with old people,I think they all fell in love with her on thespot. Even my old man succumbed and didnot contradict her, but gave me double shareinstead. I got him on the subject of the leg-ends, and he went off at once into a sort ofsermon. I must try to remember it and put itdown.

“It be all fool-talk, lock, stock, and barrel,that’s what it be and nowt else. These bansan’ wafts an’ boh-ghosts an’ bar-guests an’bogles an’ all anent them is only fit to setbairns an’ dizzy women a’belderin’. They benowt but air-blebs. They, an’ all grims an’signs an’ warnin’s, be all invented by parsonsan’ illsome berk-bodies an’ railway touters toskeer an’ scunner hafflin’s, an’ to get folks todo somethin’ that they don’t other incline to.

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It makes me ireful to think o’ them. Why, it’sthem that, not content with printin’ lies onpaper an’ preachin’ them out of pulpits, doeswant to be cuttin’ them on the tombstones.Look here all around you in what airt ye will.All them steans, holdin’ up their heads aswell as they can out of their pride, is acant,simply tumblin’ down with the weight o’ thelies wrote on them, ‘Here lies the body’ or ‘Sa-cred to the memory’ wrote on all of them, an’yet in nigh half of them there bean’t no bodiesat all, an’ the memories of them bean’t careda pinch of snuff about, much less sacred. Liesall of them, nothin’ but lies of one kind or an-other! My gog, but it’ll be a quare scowder-ment at the Day of Judgment when they cometumblin’ up in their death-sarks, all joupedtogether an’ trying’ to drag their tombsteanswith them to prove how good they was, someof them trimmlin’ an’ dithering, with theirhands that dozzened an’ slippery from lyin’in the sea that they can’t even keep their gurpo’ them.”

I could see from the old fellow’s self-satisfied

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air and the way in which he looked roundfor the approval of his cronies that he was“showing off,” so I put in a word to keep himgoing.“Oh, Mr. Swales, you can’t be serious. Surelythese tombstones are not all wrong?”“Yabblins! There may be a poorish few notwrong, savin’ where they make out the peo-ple too good, for there be folk that do thinka balm-bowl be like the sea, if only it be theirown. The whole thing be only lies. Now lookyou here. You come here a stranger, an’ yousee this kirkgarth.”I nodded, for I thought it better to assent,though I did not quite understand his di-alect. I knew it had something to do with thechurch.He went on, “And you consate that all thesesteans be aboon folk that be haped here, snodan’ snog?” I assented again. “Then that bejust where the lie comes in. Why, there bescores of these laybeds that be toom as oldDun’s ‘baccabox on Friday night.”

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He nudged one of his companions, and theyall laughed. “And, my gog! How could theybe otherwise? Look at that one, the aftestabaft the bier-bank, read it!”

I went over and read, “Edward Spencelagh,master mariner, murdered by pirates off thecoast of Andres, April, 1854, age 30.” When Icame back Mr. Swales went on,

“Who brought him home, I wonder, to haphim here? Murdered off the coast of An-dres! An’ you consated his body lay under!Why, I could name ye a dozen whose boneslie in the Greenland seas above,” he pointednorthwards, “or where the currants may havedrifted them. There be the steans around ye.Ye can, with your young eyes, read the smallprint of the lies from here. This BraithwaiteLowery, I knew his father, lost in the Livelyoff Greenland in ‘20, or Andrew Woodhouse,drowned in the same seas in 1777, or JohnPaxton, drowned off Cape Farewell a yearlater, or old John Rawlings, whose grandfa-ther sailed with me, drowned in the Gulf of

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Finland in ‘50. Do ye think that all these menwill have to make a rush to Whitby when thetrumpet sounds? I have me antherums abootit! I tell ye that when they got here they’dbe jommlin’ and jostlin’ one another that waythat it ‘ud be like a fight up on the ice in theold days, when we’d be at one another fromdaylight to dark, an’ tryin’ to tie up our cutsby the aurora borealis.” This was evidentlylocal pleasantry, for the old man cackled overit, and his cronies joined in with gusto.“But,” I said, “surely you are not quite cor-rect, for you start on the assumption that allthe poor people, or their spirits, will have totake their tombstones with them on the Dayof Judgment. Do you think that will be reallynecessary?”“Well, what else be they tombstones for? An-swer me that, miss!”“To please their relatives, I suppose.”“To please their relatives, you suppose!” Thishe said with intense scorn. “How will it plea-sure their relatives to know that lies is wrote

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over them, and that everybody in the placeknows that they be lies?”

He pointed to a stone at our feet which hadbeen laid down as a slab, on which the seatwas rested, close to the edge of the cliff.“Read the lies on that thruff-stone,” he said.

The letters were upside down to me fromwhere I sat, but Lucy was more opposite tothem, so she leant over and read, “Sacredto the memory of George Canon, who died,in the hope of a glorious resurrection, onJuly 29, 1873, falling from the rocks at Kettle-ness. This tomb was erected by his sorrow-ing mother to her dearly beloved son. ‘Hewas the only son of his mother, and she wasa widow.’ Really, Mr. Swales, I don’t see any-thing very funny in that!” She spoke her com-ment very gravely and somewhat severely.

“Ye don’t see aught funny! Ha-ha! But that’sbecause ye don’t gawm the sorrowin’ motherwas a hell-cat that hated him because he wasacrewk’d, a regular lamiter he was, an’ hehated her so that he committed suicide in or-

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der that she mightn’t get an insurance sheput on his life. He blew nigh the top of hishead off with an old musket that they had forscarin’ crows with. ‘Twarn’t for crows then,for it brought the clegs and the dowps to him.That’s the way he fell off the rocks. And, asto hopes of a glorious resurrection, I’ve oftenheard him say masel’ that he hoped he’d goto hell, for his mother was so pious that she’dbe sure to go to heaven, an’ he didn’t wantto addle where she was. Now isn’t that steanat any rate,” he hammered it with his stick ashe spoke, “a pack of lies? And won’t it makeGabriel keckle when Geordie comes pantin’ut the grees with the tompstean balanced onhis hump, and asks to be took as evidence!”

I did not know what to say, but Lucy turnedthe conversation as she said, rising up, “Oh,why did you tell us of this? It is my favouriteseat, and I cannot leave it, and now I find Imust go on sitting over the grave of a sui-cide.”

“That won’t harm ye, my pretty, an’ it may

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make poor Geordie gladsome to have so trima lass sittin’ on his lap. That won’t hurt ye.Why, I’ve sat here off an’ on for nigh twentyyears past, an’ it hasn’t done me no harm.Don’t ye fash about them as lies under ye, orthat doesn’ lie there either! It’ll be time forye to be getting scart when ye see the tomb-steans all run away with, and the place asbare as a stubble-field. There’s the clock, andI must gang. My service to ye, ladies!” Andoff he hobbled.

Lucy and I sat awhile, and it was all so beau-tiful before us that we took hands as we sat,and she told me all over again about Arthurand their coming marriage. That made mejust a little heart-sick, for I haven’t heard fromJonathan for a whole month.

The same day. I came up here alone, for Iam very sad. There was no letter for me.I hope there cannot be anything the matterwith Jonathan. The clock has just struck nine.I see the lights scattered all over the town,sometimes in rows where the streets are, and

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sometimes singly. They run right up the Eskand die away in the curve of the valley. To myleft the view is cut off by a black line of roofof the old house next to the abbey. The sheepand lambs are bleating in the fields away be-hind me, and there is a clatter of donkeys’hoofs up the paved road below. The bandon the pier is playing a harsh waltz in goodtime, and further along the quay there is aSalvation Army meeting in a back street. Nei-ther of the bands hears the other, but up hereI hear and see them both. I wonder whereJonathan is and if he is thinking of me! I wishhe were here.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

5 June.–The case of Renfield grows more in-teresting the more I get to understand theman. He has certain qualities very largely de-veloped, selfishness, secrecy, and purpose.

I wish I could get at what is the object of thelatter. He seems to have some settled scheme

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of his own, but what it is I do not know.His redeeming quality is a love of animals,though, indeed, he has such curious turns init that I sometimes imagine he is only abnor-mally cruel. His pets are of odd sorts.

Just now his hobby is catching flies. He has atpresent such a quantity that I have had my-self to expostulate. To my astonishment, hedid not break out into a fury, as I expected,but took the matter in simple seriousness. Hethought for a moment, and then said, “MayI have three days? I shall clear them away.”Of course, I said that would do. I must watchhim.

18 June.–He has turned his mind now to spi-ders, and has got several very big fellows ina box. He keeps feeding them his flies, andthe number of the latter is becoming sensi-bly diminished, although he has used half hisfood in attracting more flies from outside tohis room.

1 July.–His spiders are now becoming as greata nuisance as his flies, and today I told him

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that he must get rid of them.He looked very sad at this, so I said that hemust some of them, at all events. He cheer-fully acquiesced in this, and I gave him thesame time as before for reduction.He disgusted me much while with him, forwhen a horrid blowfly, bloated with somecarrion food, buzzed into the room, he caughtit, held it exultantly for a few moments be-tween his finger and thumb, and before Iknew what he was going to do, put it in hismouth and ate it.I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly thatit was very good and very wholesome, that itwas life, strong life, and gave life to him. Thisgave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. Imust watch how he gets rid of his spiders.He has evidently some deep problem in hismind, for he keeps a little notebook in whichhe is always jotting down something. Wholepages of it are filled with masses of fig-ures, generally single numbers added up inbatches, and then the totals added in batches

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again, as though he were focussing some ac-count, as the auditors put it.8 July.–There is a method in his madness, andthe rudimentary idea in my mind is growing.It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, un-conscious cerebration, you will have to givethe wall to your conscious brother.I kept away from my friend for a few days, sothat I might notice if there were any change.Things remain as they were except that he hasparted with some of his pets and got a newone.He has managed to get a sparrow, and hasalready partially tamed it. His means of tam-ing is simple, for already the spiders have di-minished. Those that do remain, however,are well fed, for he still brings in the flies bytempting them with his food.19 July–We are progressing. My friend hasnow a whole colony of sparrows, and his fliesand spiders are almost obliterated. When Icame in he ran to me and said he wantedto ask me a great favour, a very, very great

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favour. And as he spoke, he fawned on melike a dog.I asked him what it was, and he said, with asort of rapture in his voice and bearing, “Akitten, a nice, little, sleek playful kitten, that Ican play with, and teach, and feed, and feed,and feed!”I was not unprepared for this request, for Ihad noticed how his pets went on increasingin size and vivacity, but I did not care thathis pretty family of tame sparrows should bewiped out in the same manner as the flies andspiders. So I said I would see about it, andasked him if he would not rather have a catthan a kitten.His eagerness betrayed him as he answered,“Oh, yes, I would like a cat! I only asked fora kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. Noone would refuse me a kitten, would they?”I shook my head, and said that at presentI feared it would not be possible, but that Iwould see about it. His face fell, and I couldsee a warning of danger in it, for there was

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a sudden fierce, sidelong look which meantkilling. The man is an undeveloped homici-dal maniac. I shall test him with his presentcraving and see how it will work out, then Ishall know more.10 pm.–I have visited him again and foundhim sitting in a corner brooding. When Icame in he threw himself on his knees beforeme and implored me to let him have a cat,that his salvation depended upon it.I was firm, however, and told him that hecould not have it, whereupon he went with-out a word, and sat down, gnawing his fin-gers, in the corner where I had found him. Ishall see him in the morning early.20 July.–Visited Renfield very early, before at-tendant went his rounds. Found him up andhumming a tune. He was spreading out hissugar, which he had saved, in the window,and was manifestly beginning his fly catch-ing again, and beginning it cheerfully andwith a good grace.I looked around for his birds, and not see-

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ing them, asked him where they were. Hereplied, without turning round, that they hadall flown away. There were a few feathersabout the room and on his pillow a drop ofblood. I said nothing, but went and told thekeeper to report to me if there were anythingodd about him during the day.

11 am.–The attendant has just been to see meto say that Renfield has been very sick andhas disgorged a whole lot of feathers. “Mybelief is, doctor,” he said, “that he has eatenhis birds, and that he just took and ate themraw!”

11 pm.–I gave Renfield a strong opiatetonight, enough to make even him sleep,and took away his pocketbook to look atit. The thought that has been buzzing aboutmy brain lately is complete, and the theoryproved.

My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. Ishall have to invent a new classification forhim, and call him a zoophagous (life-eating)maniac. What he desires is to absorb as many

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lives as he can, and he has laid himself outto achieve it in a cumulative way. He gavemany flies to one spider and many spidersto one bird, and then wanted a cat to eat themany birds. What would have been his latersteps?

It would almost be worth while to completethe experiment. It might be done if there wereonly a sufficient cause. Men sneered at vivi-section, and yet look at its results today! Whynot advance science in its most difficult andvital aspect, the knowledge of the brain?

Had I even the secret of one such mind,did I hold the key to the fancy of even onelunatic, I might advance my own branchof science to a pitch compared with whichBurdon-Sanderson’s physiology or Ferrier’sbrain knowledge would be as nothing. If onlythere were a sufficient cause! I must not thinktoo much of this, or I may be tempted. Agood cause might turn the scale with me, formay not I too be of an exceptional brain, con-genitally?

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How well the man reasoned. Lunatics alwaysdo within their own scope. I wonder at howmany lives he values a man, or if at only one.He has closed the account most accurately,and today begun a new record. How manyof us begin a new record with each day of ourlives?

To me it seems only yesterday that my wholelife ended with my new hope, and that truly Ibegan a new record. So it shall be until theGreat Recorder sums me up and closes myledger account with a balance to profit or loss.

Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you,nor can I be angry with my friend whose hap-piness is yours, but I must only wait on hope-less and work. Work! Work!

If I could have as strong a cause as my poormad friend there, a good, unselfish cause tomake me work, that would be indeed happi-ness.

MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL

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26 July.–I am anxious, and it soothes me toexpress myself here. It is like whispering toone’s self and listening at the same time. Andthere is also something about the shorthandsymbols that makes it different from writ-ing. I am unhappy about Lucy and aboutJonathan. I had not heard from Jonathan forsome time, and was very concerned, but yes-terday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always sokind, sent me a letter from him. I had writ-ten asking him if he had heard, and he saidthe enclosed had just been received. It is onlya line dated from Castle Dracula, and saysthat he is just starting for home. That is notlike Jonathan. I do not understand it, and itmakes me uneasy.

Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, haslately taken to her old habit of walking in hersleep. Her mother has spoken to me aboutit, and we have decided that I am to lock thedoor of our room every night.

Mrs. Westenra has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go out on roofs of houses and

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along the edges of cliffs and then get sud-denly wakened and fall over with a despair-ing cry that echoes all over the place.Poor dear, she is naturally anxious aboutLucy, and she tells me that her husband,Lucy’s father, had the same habit, that hewould get up in the night and dress himselfand go out, if he were not stopped.Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and sheis already planning out her dresses and howher house is to be arranged. I sympathisewith her, for I do the same, only Jonathan andI will start in life in a very simple way, andshall have to try to make both ends meet.Mr. Holmwood, he is the Hon. Arthur Holm-wood, only son of Lord Godalming, is com-ing up here very shortly, as soon as he canleave town, for his father is not very well, andI think dear Lucy is counting the moments tillhe comes.She wants to take him up in the seat on thechurchyard cliff and show him the beauty ofWhitby. I daresay it is the waiting which dis-

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turbs her. She will be all right when he ar-rives.

27 July.–No news from Jonathan. I am gettingquite uneasy about him, though why I shouldI do not know, but I do wish that he wouldwrite, if it were only a single line.

Lucy walks more than ever, and each night Iam awakened by her moving about the room.Fortunately, the weather is so hot that shecannot get cold. But still, the anxiety andthe perpetually being awakened is beginningto tell on me, and I am getting nervous andwakeful myself. Thank God, Lucy’s healthkeeps up. Mr. Holmwood has been suddenlycalled to Ring to see his father, who has beentaken seriously ill. Lucy frets at the postpone-ment of seeing him, but it does not touch herlooks. She is a trifle stouter, and her cheeksare a lovely rose-pink. She has lost the ane-mic look which she had. I pray it will all last.

3 August.–Another week gone by, andno news from Jonathan, not even to Mr.Hawkins, from whom I have heard. Oh, I do

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hope he is not ill. He surely would have writ-ten. I look at that last letter of his, but some-how it does not satisfy me. It does not readlike him, and yet it is his writing. There is nomistake of that.Lucy has not walked much in her sleep thelast week, but there is an odd concentrationabout her which I do not understand, evenin her sleep she seems to be watching me.She tries the door, and finding it locked, goesabout the room searching for the key.6 August.–Another three days, and no news.This suspense is getting dreadful. If I onlyknew where to write to or where to go to, Ishould feel easier. But no one has heard aword of Jonathan since that last letter. I mustonly pray to God for patience.Lucy is more excitable than ever, but is other-wise well. Last night was very threatening,and the fishermen say that we are in for astorm. I must try to watch it and learn theweather signs.Today is a gray day, and the sun as I write

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is hidden in thick clouds, high over Kettle-ness. Everything is gray except the greengrass, which seems like emerald amongst it,gray earthy rock, gray clouds, tinged withthe sunburst at the far edge, hang over thegray sea, into which the sandpoints stretchlike gray figures. The sea is tumbling in overthe shallows and the sandy flats with a roar,muffled in the sea-mists drifting inland. Thehorizon is lost in a gray mist. All vastness,the clouds are piled up like giant rocks, andthere is a ‘brool’ over the sea that soundslike some passage of doom. Dark figuresare on the beach here and there, sometimeshalf shrouded in the mist, and seem ‘menlike trees walking’. The fishing boats are rac-ing for home, and rise and dip in the groundswell as they sweep into the harbour, bendingto the scuppers. Here comes old Mr. Swales.He is making straight for me, and I can see,by the way he lifts his hat, that he wants totalk.

I have been quite touched by the change inthe poor old man. When he sat down beside

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me, he said in a very gentle way, “I want tosay something to you, miss.”

I could see he was not at ease, so I took hispoor old wrinkled hand in mine and askedhim to speak fully.

So he said, leaving his hand in mine, “I’mafraid, my deary, that I must have shockedyou by all the wicked things I’ve been sayin’about the dead, and such like, for weeks past,but I didn’t mean them, and I want ye to re-member that when I’m gone. We aud folksthat be daffled, and with one foot abaft thekrok-hooal, don’t altogether like to think ofit, and we don’t want to feel scart of it, andthat’s why I’ve took to makin’ light of it, sothat I’d cheer up my own heart a bit. But,Lord love ye, miss, I ain’t afraid of dyin’, not abit, only I don’t want to die if I can help it. Mytime must be nigh at hand now, for I be aud,and a hundred years is too much for any manto expect. And I’m so nigh it that the AudMan is already whettin’ his scythe. Ye see, Ican’t get out o’ the habit of caffin’ about it all

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at once. The chafts will wag as they be usedto. Some day soon the Angel of Death willsound his trumpet for me. But don’t ye dooalan’ greet, my deary!”–for he saw that I wascrying–”if he should come this very night I’dnot refuse to answer his call. For life be, af-ter all, only a waitin’ for somethin’ else thanwhat we’re doin’, and death be all that we canrightly depend on. But I’m content, for it’scomin’ to me, my deary, and comin’ quick. Itmay be comin’ while we be lookin’ and won-derin’. Maybe it’s in that wind out over thesea that’s bringin’ with it loss and wreck, andsore distress, and sad hearts. Look! Look!”he cried suddenly. “There’s something in thatwind and in the hoast beyont that sounds,and looks, and tastes, and smells like death.It’s in the air. I feel it comin’. Lord, make meanswer cheerful, when my call comes!” Heheld up his arms devoutly, and raised his hat.His mouth moved as though he were pray-ing. After a few minutes’ silence, he got up,shook hands with me, and blessed me, andsaid goodbye, and hobbled off. It all touched

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me, and upset me very much.I was glad when the coastguard came along,with his spyglass under his arm. He stoppedto talk with me, as he always does, but all thetime kept looking at a strange ship.“I can’t make her out,” he said. “She’s a Rus-sian, by the look of her. But she’s knockingabout in the queerest way. She doesn’t knowher mind a bit. She seems to see the stormcoming, but can’t decide whether to run upnorth in the open, or to put in here. Lookthere again! She is steered mighty strangely,for she doesn’t mind the hand on the wheel,changes about with every puff of wind. We’llhear more of her before this time tomorrow.”

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CUTTING FROM “THE DAILYGRAPH“, 8 AUGUST

(PASTED IN MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL)

From a correspondent.Whitby.One of the greatest and suddenest stormson record has just been experienced here,with results both strange and unique. Theweather had been somewhat sultry, but not toany degree uncommon in the month of Au-gust. Saturday evening was as fine as was

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ever known, and the great body of holiday-makers laid out yesterday for visits to Mul-grave Woods, Robin Hood’s Bay, Rig Mill,Runswick, Staithes, and the various trips inthe neighborhood of Whitby. The steam-ers Emma and Scarborough made trips upand down the coast, and there was an un-usual amount of ‘tripping’ both to and fromWhitby. The day was unusually fine till theafternoon, when some of the gossips who fre-quent the East Cliff churchyard, and fromthe commanding eminence watch the widesweep of sea visible to the north and east,called attention to a sudden show of ‘marestails’ high in the sky to the northwest. Thewind was then blowing from the south-westin the mild degree which in barometrical lan-guage is ranked ‘No. 2, light breeze.’

The coastguard on duty at once made report,and one old fisherman, who for more thanhalf a century has kept watch on weathersigns from the East Cliff, foretold in an em-phatic manner the coming of a sudden storm.The approach of sunset was so very beau-

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tiful, so grand in its masses of splendidlycoloured clouds, that there was quite an as-semblage on the walk along the cliff in theold churchyard to enjoy the beauty. Beforethe sun dipped below the black mass of Ket-tleness, standing boldly athwart the westernsky, its downward way was marked by myr-iad clouds of every sunset colour, flame, pur-ple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints ofgold, with here and there masses not large,but of seemingly absolute blackness, in allsorts of shapes, as well outlined as colos-sal silhouettes. The experience was not loston the painters, and doubtless some of thesketches of the ‘Prelude to the Great Storm’will grace the R. A and R. I. walls in May next.

More than one captain made up his mindthen and there that his ‘cobble’ or his ‘mule’,as they term the different classes of boats,would remain in the harbour till the stormhad passed. The wind fell away entirely dur-ing the evening, and at midnight there was adead calm, a sultry heat, and that prevailingintensity which, on the approach of thunder,

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affects persons of a sensitive nature.

There were but few lights in sight at sea,for even the coasting steamers, which usu-ally hug the shore so closely, kept well toseaward, and but few fishing boats were insight. The only sail noticeable was a foreignschooner with all sails set, which was seem-ingly going westwards. The foolhardiness orignorance of her officers was a prolific themefor comment whilst she remained in sight,and efforts were made to signal her to reducesail in the face of her danger. Before the nightshut down she was seen with sails idly flap-ping as she gently rolled on the undulatingswell of the sea.

“As idle as a painted ship upon a paintedocean.”

Shortly before ten o’clock the stillness of theair grew quite oppressive, and the silencewas so marked that the bleating of a sheep in-land or the barking of a dog in the town wasdistinctly heard, and the band on the pier,with its lively French air, was like a dischord

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in the great harmony of nature’s silence. A lit-tle after midnight came a strange sound fromover the sea, and high overhead the air beganto carry a strange, faint, hollow booming.

Then without warning the tempest broke.With a rapidity which, at the time, seemedincredible, and even afterwards is impossibleto realize, the whole aspect of nature at oncebecame convulsed. The waves rose in grow-ing fury, each over-topping its fellow, till ina very few minutes the lately glassy sea waslike a roaring and devouring monster. White-crested waves beat madly on the level sandsand rushed up the shelving cliffs. Othersbroke over the piers, and with their spumeswept the lanthorns of the lighthouses whichrise from the end of either pier of WhitbyHarbour.

The wind roared like thunder, and blew withsuch force that it was with difficulty thateven strong men kept their feet, or clungwith grim clasp to the iron stanchions. Itwas found necessary to clear the entire pier

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from the mass of onlookers, or else the fatal-ities of the night would have increased man-ifold. To add to the difficulties and dangersof the time, masses of sea-fog came driftinginland. White, wet clouds, which swept byin ghostly fashion, so dank and damp andcold that it needed but little effort of imagi-nation to think that the spirits of those lost atsea were touching their living brethren withthe clammy hands of death, and many a oneshuddered as the wreaths of sea-mist sweptby.

At times the mist cleared, and the sea forsome distance could be seen in the glare ofthe lightning, which came thick and fast,followed by such peals of thunder that thewhole sky overhead seemed trembling underthe shock of the footsteps of the storm.

Some of the scenes thus revealed were of im-measurable grandeur and of absorbing inter-est. The sea, running mountains high, threwskywards with each wave mighty masses ofwhite foam, which the tempest seemed to

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snatch at and whirl away into space. Hereand there a fishing boat, with a rag of sail,running madly for shelter before the blast,now and again the white wings of a storm-tossed seabird. On the summit of the EastCliff the new searchlight was ready for exper-iment, but had not yet been tried. The offi-cers in charge of it got it into working order,and in the pauses of onrushing mist sweptwith it the surface of the sea. Once or twiceits service was most effective, as when a fish-ing boat, with gunwale under water, rushedinto the harbour, able, by the guidance of thesheltering light, to avoid the danger of dash-ing against the piers. As each boat achievedthe safety of the port there was a shout ofjoy from the mass of people on the shore, ashout which for a moment seemed to cleavethe gale and was then swept away in its rush.

Before long the searchlight discovered somedistance away a schooner with all sails set,apparently the same vessel which had beennoticed earlier in the evening. The wind hadby this time backed to the east, and there was

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a shudder amongst the watchers on the cliffas they realized the terrible danger in whichshe now was.

Between her and the port lay the great flatreef on which so many good ships have fromtime to time suffered, and, with the windblowing from its present quarter, it would bequite impossible that she should fetch the en-trance of the harbour.

It was now nearly the hour of high tide, butthe waves were so great that in their troughsthe shallows of the shore were almost visible,and the schooner, with all sails set, was rush-ing with such speed that, in the words of oneold salt, “she must fetch up somewhere, if itwas only in hell“. Then came another rushof sea-fog, greater than any hitherto, a massof dank mist, which seemed to close on allthings like a gray pall, and left available tomen only the organ of hearing, for the roarof the tempest, and the crash of the thunder,and the booming of the mighty billows camethrough the damp oblivion even louder than

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before. The rays of the searchlight were keptfixed on the harbour mouth across the EastPier, where the shock was expected, and menwaited breathless.

The wind suddenly shifted to the northeast,and the remnant of the sea fog melted inthe blast. And then, mirabile dictu, be-tween the piers, leaping from wave to waveas it rushed at headlong speed, swept thestrange schooner before the blast, with allsail set, and gained the safety of the harbour.The searchlight followed her, and a shudderran through all who saw her, for lashed tothe helm was a corpse, with drooping head,which swung horribly to and fro at each mo-tion of the ship. No other form could be seenon the deck at all.

A great awe came on all as they realisedthat the ship, as if by a miracle, had foundthe harbour, unsteered save by the hand ofa dead man! However, all took place morequickly than it takes to write these words.The schooner paused not, but rushing across

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the harbour, pitched herself on that accumu-lation of sand and gravel washed by manytides and many storms into the southeast cor-ner of the pier jutting under the East Cliff,known locally as Tate Hill Pier.

There was of course a considerable concus-sion as the vessel drove up on the sand heap.Every spar, rope, and stay was strained,and some of the ‘top-hammer’ came crash-ing down. But, strangest of all, the very in-stant the shore was touched, an immense dogsprang up on deck from below, as if shotup by the concussion, and running forward,jumped from the bow on the sand.

Making straight for the steep cliff, where thechurchyard hangs over the laneway to theEast Pier so steeply that some of the flattombstones, thruffsteans or through-stones,as they call them in Whitby vernacular, actu-ally project over where the sustaining cliff hasfallen away, it disappeared in the darkness,which seemed intensified just beyond the fo-cus of the searchlight.

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It so happened that there was no one at themoment on Tate Hill Pier, as all those whosehouses are in close proximity were either inbed or were out on the heights above. Thusthe coastguard on duty on the eastern side ofthe harbour, who at once ran down to the lit-tle pier, was the first to climb aboard. Themen working the searchlight, after scouringthe entrance of the harbour without seeinganything, then turned the light on the derelictand kept it there. The coastguard ran aft, andwhen he came beside the wheel, bent over toexamine it, and recoiled at once as though un-der some sudden emotion. This seemed topique general curiosity, and quite a numberof people began to run.

It is a good way round from the West Cliff bythe Draw-bridge to Tate Hill Pier, but yourcorrespondent is a fairly good runner, andcame well ahead of the crowd. When I ar-rived, however, I found already assembledon the pier a crowd, whom the coastguardand police refused to allow to come on board.By the courtesy of the chief boatman, I was,

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as your correspondent, permitted to climb ondeck, and was one of a small group who sawthe dead seaman whilst actually lashed to thewheel.

It was no wonder that the coastguard wassurprised, or even awed, for not often cansuch a sight have been seen. The man wassimply fastened by his hands, tied one overthe other, to a spoke of the wheel. Betweenthe inner hand and the wood was a cruci-fix, the set of beads on which it was fastenedbeing around both wrists and wheel, and allkept fast by the binding cords. The poor fel-low may have been seated at one time, butthe flapping and buffeting of the sails hadworked through the rudder of the wheel andhad dragged him to and fro, so that the cordswith which he was tied had cut the flesh tothe bone.

Accurate note was made of the state of things,and a doctor, Surgeon J. M. Caffyn, of 33, EastElliot Place, who came immediately after me,declared, after making examination, that the

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man must have been dead for quite two days.

In his pocket was a bottle, carefully corked,empty save for a little roll of paper, whichproved to be the addendum to the log.

The coastguard said the man must have tiedup his own hands, fastening the knots withhis teeth. The fact that a coastguard was thefirst on board may save some complicationslater on, in the Admiralty Court, for coast-guards cannot claim the salvage which is theright of the first civilian entering on a derelict.Already, however, the legal tongues are wag-ging, and one young law student is loudlyasserting that the rights of the owner are al-ready completely sacrificed, his property be-ing held in contravention of the statues ofmortmain, since the tiller, as emblemship, ifnot proof, of delegated possession, is held ina dead hand.

It is needless to say that the dead steers-man has been reverently removed from theplace where he held his honourable watchand ward till death, a steadfastness as noble

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as that of the young Casabianca, and placedin the mortuary to await inquest.Already the sudden storm is passing, and itsfierceness is abating. Crowds are scatteringbackward, and the sky is beginning to reddenover the Yorkshire wolds.I shall send, in time for your next issue, fur-ther details of the derelict ship which foundher way so miraculously into harbour in thestorm.9 August.–The sequel to the strange arrivalof the derelict in the storm last night is al-most more startling than the thing itself. Itturns out that the schooner is Russian fromVarna, and is called the Demeter. She is al-most entirely in ballast of silver sand, withonly a small amount of cargo, a number ofgreat wooden boxes filled with mould.This cargo was consigned to a Whitby so-licitor, Mr. S.F. Billington, of 7, The Cres-cent, who this morning went aboard and tookformal possession of the goods consigned tohim.

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The Russian consul, too, acting for thecharter-party, took formal possession of theship, and paid all harbour dues, etc.

Nothing is talked about here today exceptthe strange coincidence. The officials of theBoard of Trade have been most exacting inseeing that every compliance has been madewith existing regulations. As the matter is tobe a ‘nine days wonder’, they are evidentlydetermined that there shall be no cause ofother complaint.

A good deal of interest was abroad concern-ing the dog which landed when the shipstruck, and more than a few of the mem-bers of the S.P.C.A., which is very strong inWhitby, have tried to befriend the animal. Tothe general disappointment, however, it wasnot to be found. It seems to have disappearedentirely from the town. It may be that it wasfrightened and made its way on to the moors,where it is still hiding in terror.

There are some who look with dread on sucha possibility, lest later on it should in itself

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become a danger, for it is evidently a fiercebrute. Early this morning a large dog, a half-bred mastiff belonging to a coal merchantclose to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead in theroadway opposite its master’s yard. It hadbeen fighting, and manifestly had had a sav-age opponent, for its throat was torn away,and its belly was slit open as if with a savageclaw.

Later.–By the kindness of the Board of Tradeinspector, I have been permitted to look overthe log book of the Demeter, which was inorder up to within three days, but containednothing of special interest except as to factsof missing men. The greatest interest, how-ever, is with regard to the paper found in thebottle, which was today produced at the in-quest. And a more strange narrative than thetwo between them unfold it has not been mylot to come across.

As there is no motive for concealment, I ampermitted to use them, and accordingly sendyou a transcript, simply omitting technical

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details of seamanship and supercargo. It al-most seems as though the captain had beenseized with some kind of mania before he hadgot well into blue water, and that this had de-veloped persistently throughout the voyage.Of course my statement must be taken cumgrano, since I am writing from the dictationof a clerk of the Russian consul, who kindlytranslated for me, time being short.

LOG OF THE “DEMETER” Varna to Whitby

Written 18 July, things so strange happening,that I shall keep accurate note henceforth tillwe land.

On 6 July we finished taking in cargo, silversand and boxes of earth. At noon set sail. Eastwind, fresh. Crew, five hands... two mates,cook, and myself, (captain).

On 11 July at dawn entered Bosphorus.Boarded by Turkish Customs officers. Back-sheesh. All correct. Under way at 4 p.m.

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On 12 July through Dardanelles. MoreCustoms officers and flagboat of guardingsquadron. Backsheesh again. Work of offi-cers thorough, but quick. Want us off soon.At dark passed into Archipelago.

On 13 July passed Cape Matapan. Crew dis-satisfied about something. Seemed scared,but would not speak out.

On 14 July was somewhat anxious aboutcrew. Men all steady fellows, who sailed withme before. Mate could not make out whatwas wrong. They only told him there wasSOMETHING, and crossed themselves. Matelost temper with one of them that day andstruck him. Expected fierce quarrel, but allwas quiet.

On 16 July mate reported in the morningthat one of the crew, Petrofsky, was miss-ing. Could not account for it. Took lar-board watch eight bells last night, was re-lieved by Amramoff, but did not go to bunk.Men more downcast than ever. All said theyexpected something of the kind, but would

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not say more than there was SOMETHINGaboard. Mate getting very impatient withthem. Feared some trouble ahead.

On 17 July, yesterday, one of the men, Ol-garen, came to my cabin, and in an awestruckway confided to me that he thought there wasa strange man aboard the ship. He said thatin his watch he had been sheltering behindthe deckhouse, as there was a rain storm,when he saw a tall, thin man, who was notlike any of the crew, come up the compan-ionway, and go along the deck forward anddisappear. He followed cautiously, but whenhe got to bows found no one, and the hatch-ways were all closed. He was in a panic ofsuperstitious fear, and I am afraid the panicmay spread. To allay it, I shall today searchthe entire ship carefully from stem to stern.

Later in the day I got together the whole crew,and told them, as they evidently thoughtthere was some one in the ship, we wouldsearch from stem to stern. First mate angry,said it was folly, and to yield to such fool-

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ish ideas would demoralise the men, said hewould engage to keep them out of troublewith the handspike. I let him take the helm,while the rest began a thorough search, allkeeping abreast, with lanterns. We left nocorner unsearched. As there were only thebig wooden boxes, there were no odd cor-ners where a man could hide. Men much re-lieved when search over, and went back towork cheerfully. First mate scowled, but saidnothing.

22 July.–Rough weather last three days, andall hands busy with sails, no time to be fright-ened. Men seem to have forgotten theirdread. Mate cheerful again, and all on goodterms. Praised men for work in bad weather.Passed Gibraltar and out through Straits. Allwell.

24 July.–There seems some doom over thisship. Already a hand short, and entering theBay of Biscay with wild weather ahead, andyet last night another man lost, disappeared.Like the first, he came off his watch and was

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not seen again. Men all in a panic of fear, senta round robin, asking to have double watch,as they fear to be alone. Mate angry. Fearthere will be some trouble, as either he or themen will do some violence.

28 July.–Four days in hell, knocking aboutin a sort of maelstrom, and the wind a tem-pest. No sleep for any one. Men all worn out.Hardly know how to set a watch, since no onefit to go on. Second mate volunteered to steerand watch, and let men snatch a few hourssleep. Wind abating, seas still terrific, but feelthem less, as ship is steadier.

29 July.–Another tragedy. Had single watchtonight, as crew too tired to double. Whenmorning watch came on deck could find noone except steersman. Raised outcry, and allcame on deck. Thorough search, but no onefound. Are now without second mate, andcrew in a panic. Mate and I agreed to goarmed henceforth and wait for any sign ofcause.

30 July.–Last night. Rejoiced we are nearing

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England. Weather fine, all sails set. Retiredworn out, slept soundly, awakened by matetelling me that both man of watch and steers-man missing. Only self and mate and twohands left to work ship.

1 August.–Two days of fog, and not a sailsighted. Had hoped when in the EnglishChannel to be able to signal for help or get insomewhere. Not having power to work sails,have to run before wind. Dare not lower, ascould not raise them again. We seem to bedrifting to some terrible doom. Mate nowmore demoralised than either of men. Hisstronger nature seems to have worked in-wardly against himself. Men are beyond fear,working stolidly and patiently, with mindsmade up to worst. They are Russian, he Rou-manian.

2 August, midnight.–Woke up from few min-utes sleep by hearing a cry, seemingly outsidemy port. Could see nothing in fog. Rushedon deck, and ran against mate. Tells me heheard cry and ran, but no sign of man on

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watch. One more gone. Lord, help us! Matesays we must be past Straits of Dover, as in amoment of fog lifting he saw North Foreland,just as he heard the man cry out. If so weare now off in the North Sea, and only Godcan guide us in the fog, which seems to movewith us, and God seems to have deserted us.

3 August.–At midnight I went to relieve theman at the wheel and when I got to it foundno one there. The wind was steady, and aswe ran before it there was no yawing. I darednot leave it, so shouted for the mate. Aftera few seconds, he rushed up on deck in hisflannels. He looked wild-eyed and haggard,and I greatly fear his reason has given way.He came close to me and whispered hoarsely,with his mouth to my ear, as though fear-ing the very air might hear. “It is here. Iknow it now. On the watch last night I sawIt, like a man, tall and thin, and ghastly pale.It was in the bows, and looking out. I creptbehind It, and gave it my knife, but the knifewent through It, empty as the air.” And ashe spoke he took the knife and drove it sav-

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agely into space. Then he went on, “But Itis here, and I’ll find It. It is in the hold, per-haps in one of those boxes. I’ll unscrew themone by one and see. You work the helm.”And with a warning look and his finger onhis lip, he went below. There was spring-ing up a choppy wind, and I could not leavethe helm. I saw him come out on deck againwith a tool chest and lantern, and go downthe forward hatchway. He is mad, stark, rav-ing mad, and it’s no use my trying to stophim. He can’t hurt those big boxes, they areinvoiced as clay, and to pull them about is asharmless a thing as he can do. So here I stayand mind the helm, and write these notes. Ican only trust in God and wait till the fogclears. Then, if I can’t steer to any harbourwith the wind that is, I shall cut down sails,and lie by, and signal for help...

It is nearly all over now. Just as I was be-ginning to hope that the mate would comeout calmer, for I heard him knocking awayat something in the hold, and work is goodfor him, there came up the hatchway a sud-

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den, startled scream, which made my bloodrun cold, and up on the deck he came as ifshot from a gun, a raging madman, with hiseyes rolling and his face convulsed with fear.“Save me! Save me!” he cried, and thenlooked round on the blanket of fog. His hor-ror turned to despair, and in a steady voicehe said, “You had better come too, captain,before it is too late. He is there! I know the se-cret now. The sea will save me from Him, andit is all that is left!” Before I could say a word,or move forward to seize him, he sprang onthe bulwark and deliberately threw himselfinto the sea. I suppose I know the secret too,now. It was this madman who had got rid ofthe men one by one, and now he has followedthem himself. God help me! How am I to ac-count for all these horrors when I get to port?When I get to port! Will that ever be?

4 August.–Still fog, which the sunrise cannotpierce, I know there is sunrise because I ama sailor, why else I know not. I dared not gobelow, I dared not leave the helm, so here allnight I stayed, and in the dimness of the night

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I saw it, Him! God, forgive me, but the matewas right to jump overboard. It was better todie like a man. To die like a sailor in blue wa-ter, no man can object. But I am captain, andI must not leave my ship. But I shall bafflethis fiend or monster, for I shall tie my handsto the wheel when my strength begins to fail,and along with them I shall tie that which He,It, dare not touch. And then, come good windor foul, I shall save my soul, and my honouras a captain. I am growing weaker, and thenight is coming on. If He can look me in theface again, I may not have time to act. . .If we are wrecked, mayhap this bottle maybe found, and those who find it may under-stand. If not... well, then all men shall knowthat I have been true to my trust. God andthe Blessed Virgin and the Saints help a poorignorant soul trying to do his duty...

Of course the verdict was an open one. Thereis no evidence to adduce, and whether ornot the man himself committed the murdersthere is now none to say. The folk here holdalmost universally that the captain is simply

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a hero, and he is to be given a public funeral.Already it is arranged that his body is to betaken with a train of boats up the Esk for apiece and then brought back to Tate Hill Pierand up the abbey steps, for he is to be buriedin the churchyard on the cliff. The ownersof more than a hundred boats have alreadygiven in their names as wishing to follow himto the grave.No trace has ever been found of the great dog,at which there is much mourning, for, withpublic opinion in its present state, he would,I believe, be adopted by the town. Tomorrowwill see the funeral, and so will end this onemore ‘mystery of the sea’.

MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL

8 August.–Lucy was very restless all night,and I too, could not sleep. The storm wasfearful, and as it boomed loudly among thechimney pots, it made me shudder. When asharp puff came it seemed to be like a dis-tant gun. Strangely enough, Lucy did not

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wake, but she got up twice and dressed her-self. Fortunately, each time I awoke in timeand managed to undress her without wak-ing her, and got her back to bed. It is a verystrange thing, this sleep-walking, for as soonas her will is thwarted in any physical way,her intention, if there be any, disappears, andshe yields herself almost exactly to the rou-tine of her life.

Early in the morning we both got up andwent down to the harbour to see if anythinghad happened in the night. There were veryfew people about, and though the sun wasbright, and the air clear and fresh, the big,grim-looking waves, that seemed dark them-selves because the foam that topped themwas like snow, forced themselves in throughthe mouth of the harbour, like a bullying mangoing through a crowd. Somehow I felt gladthat Jonathan was not on the sea last night,but on land. But, oh, is he on land or sea?Where is he, and how? I am getting fearfullyanxious about him. If I only knew what to do,and could do anything!

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10 August.–The funeral of the poor sea cap-tain today was most touching. Every boat inthe harbour seemed to be there, and the coffinwas carried by captains all the way from TateHill Pier up to the churchyard. Lucy camewith me, and we went early to our old seat,whilst the cortege of boats went up the riverto the Viaduct and came down again. We hada lovely view, and saw the procession nearlyall the way. The poor fellow was laid to restnear our seat so that we stood on it, when thetime came and saw everything.

Poor Lucy seemed much upset. She was rest-less and uneasy all the time, and I cannot butthink that her dreaming at night is telling onher. She is quite odd in one thing. She willnot admit to me that there is any cause forrestlessness, or if there be, she does not un-derstand it herself.

There is an additional cause in that poor Mr.Swales was found dead this morning on ourseat, his neck being broken. He had evi-dently, as the doctor said, fallen back in the

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seat in some sort of fright, for there was a lookof fear and horror on his face that the mensaid made them shudder. Poor dear old man!

Lucy is so sweet and sensitive that she feelsinfluences more acutely than other people do.Just now she was quite upset by a little thingwhich I did not much heed, though I am my-self very fond of animals.

One of the men who came up here often tolook for the boats was followed by his dog.The dog is always with him. They are bothquiet persons, and I never saw the man angry,nor heard the dog bark. During the servicethe dog would not come to its master, whowas on the seat with us, but kept a few yardsoff, barking and howling. Its master spoke toit gently, and then harshly, and then angrily.But it would neither come nor cease to makea noise. It was in a fury, with its eyes sav-age, and all its hair bristling out like a cat’stail when puss is on the war path.

Finally the man too got angry, and jumpeddown and kicked the dog, and then took it

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by the scruff of the neck and half dragged andhalf threw it on the tombstone on which theseat is fixed. The moment it touched the stonethe poor thing began to tremble. It did not tryto get away, but crouched down, quiveringand cowering, and was in such a pitiable stateof terror that I tried, though without effect, tocomfort it.

Lucy was full of pity, too, but she did notattempt to touch the dog, but looked at itin an agonised sort of way. I greatly fearthat she is of too super sensitive a nature togo through the world without trouble. Shewill be dreaming of this tonight, I am sure.The whole agglomeration of things, the shipsteered into port by a dead man, his attitude,tied to the wheel with a crucifix and beads,the touching funeral, the dog, now furiousand now in terror, will all afford material forher dreams.

I think it will be best for her to go to bed tiredout physically, so I shall take her for a longwalk by the cliffs to Robin Hood’s Bay and

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back. She ought not to have much inclinationfor sleep-walking then.

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MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL

Same day, 11 o’clock P.M.–Oh, but I am tired!If it were not that I had made my diary a dutyI should not open it tonight. We had a lovelywalk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits,owing, I think, to some dear cows who camenosing towards us in a field close to the light-house, and frightened the wits out of us. I be-lieve we forgot everything, except of course,personal fear, and it seemed to wipe the slateclean and give us a fresh start. We had a capi-tal ‘severe tea’ at Robin Hood’s Bay in a sweet

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little old-fashioned inn, with a bow windowright over the seaweed-covered rocks of thestrand. I believe we should have shocked the‘New Woman’ with our appetites. Men aremore tolerant, bless them! Then we walkedhome with some, or rather many, stoppagesto rest, and with our hearts full of a constantdread of wild bulls.

Lucy was really tired, and we intended tocreep off to bed as soon as we could. Theyoung curate came in, however, and Mrs.Westenra asked him to stay for supper. Lucyand I had both a fight for it with the dustymiller. I know it was a hard fight on my part,and I am quite heroic. I think that some daythe bishops must get together and see aboutbreeding up a new class of curates, who don’ttake supper, no matter how hard they may bepressed to, and who will know when girls aretired.

Lucy is asleep and breathing softly. She hasmore colour in her cheeks than usual, andlooks, oh so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell

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in love with her seeing her only in the draw-ing room, I wonder what he would say if hesaw her now. Some of the ‘New Women’writers will some day start an idea that menand women should be allowed to see eachother asleep before proposing or accepting.But I suppose the ‘New Woman’ won’t con-descend in future to accept. She will do theproposing herself. And a nice job she willmake of it too! There’s some consolation inthat. I am so happy tonight, because dearLucy seems better. I really believe she hasturned the corner, and that we are over hertroubles with dreaming. I should be quitehappy if I only knew if Jonathan... God blessand keep him.

11 August.–Diary again. No sleep now, soI may as well write. I am too agitated tosleep. We have had such an adventure, suchan agonizing experience. I fell asleep as soonas I had closed my diary.... Suddenly I be-came broad awake, and sat up, with a horri-ble sense of fear upon me, and of some feel-ing of emptiness around me. The room was

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dark, so I could not see Lucy’s bed. I stoleacross and felt for her. The bed was empty. Ilit a match and found that she was not in theroom. The door was shut, but not locked, as Ihad left it. I feared to wake her mother, whohas been more than usually ill lately, so threwon some clothes and got ready to look for her.As I was leaving the room it struck me thatthe clothes she wore might give me some clueto her dreaming intention. Dressing-gownwould mean house, dress outside. Dressing-gown and dress were both in their places.“Thank God,” I said to myself, “she cannotbe far, as she is only in her nightdress.”

I ran downstairs and looked in the sittingroom. Not there! Then I looked in allthe other rooms of the house, with an ever-growing fear chilling my heart. Finally, Icame to the hall door and found it open. Itwas not wide open, but the catch of the lockhad not caught. The people of the houseare careful to lock the door every night, so Ifeared that Lucy must have gone out as shewas. There was no time to think of what

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might happen. A vague over-mastering fearobscured all details.

I took a big, heavy shawl and ran out. Theclock was striking one as I was in the Cres-cent, and there was not a soul in sight. I ranalong the North Terrace, but could see no signof the white figure which I expected. At theedge of the West Cliff above the pier I lookedacross the harbour to the East Cliff, in thehope or fear, I don’t know which, of seeingLucy in our favourite seat.

There was a bright full moon, with heavyblack, driving clouds, which threw the wholescene into a fleeting diorama of light andshade as they sailed across. For a momentor two I could see nothing, as the shadowof a cloud obscured St. Mary’s Church andall around it. Then as the cloud passed Icould see the ruins of the abbey coming intoview, and as the edge of a narrow band oflight as sharp as a sword-cut moved along,the church and churchyard became graduallyvisible. Whatever my expectation was, it was

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not disappointed, for there, on our favouriteseat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white. The coming ofthe cloud was too quick for me to see much,for shadow shut down on light almost imme-diately, but it seemed to me as though some-thing dark stood behind the seat where thewhite figure shone, and bent over it. What itwas, whether man or beast, I could not tell.

I did not wait to catch another glance, butflew down the steep steps to the pier andalong by the fish-market to the bridge, whichwas the only way to reach the East Cliff. Thetown seemed as dead, for not a soul did I see.I rejoiced that it was so, for I wanted no wit-ness of poor Lucy’s condition. The time anddistance seemed endless, and my knees trem-bled and my breath came laboured as I toiledup the endless steps to the abbey. I must havegone fast, and yet it seemed to me as if myfeet were weighted with lead, and as thoughevery joint in my body were rusty.

When I got almost to the top I could see

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the seat and the white figure, for I was nowclose enough to distinguish it even throughthe spells of shadow. There was undoubtedlysomething, long and black, bending over thehalf-reclining white figure. I called in fright,“Lucy! Lucy!” and something raised a head,and from where I was I could see a white faceand red, gleaming eyes.

Lucy did not answer, and I ran on to the en-trance of the churchyard. As I entered, thechurch was between me and the seat, andfor a minute or so I lost sight of her. WhenI came in view again the cloud had passed,and the moonlight struck so brilliantly that Icould see Lucy half reclining with her headlying over the back of the seat. She was quitealone, and there was not a sign of any livingthing about.

When I bent over her I could see that she wasstill asleep. Her lips were parted, and shewas breathing, not softly as usual with her,but in long, heavy gasps, as though strivingto get her lungs full at every breath. As I

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came close, she put up her hand in her sleepand pulled the collar of her nightdress closearound her, as though she felt the cold. Iflung the warm shawl over her, and drew theedges tight around her neck, for I dreadedlest she should get some deadly chill from thenight air, unclad as she was. I feared to wakeher all at once, so, in order to have my handsfree to help her, I fastened the shawl at herthroat with a big safety pin. But I must havebeen clumsy in my anxiety and pinched orpricked her with it, for by-and-by, when herbreathing became quieter, she put her handto her throat again and moaned. When I hadher carefully wrapped up I put my shoes onher feet, and then began very gently to wakeher.

At first she did not respond, but graduallyshe became more and more uneasy in hersleep, moaning and sighing occasionally. Atlast, as time was passing fast, and for manyother reasons, I wished to get her home atonce, I shook her forcibly, till finally sheopened her eyes and awoke. She did not

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seem surprised to see me, as, of course, shedid not realize all at once where she was.

Lucy always wakes prettily, and even atsuch a time, when her body must have beenchilled with cold, and her mind somewhatappalled at waking unclad in a churchyard atnight, she did not lose her grace. She trem-bled a little, and clung to me. When I toldher to come at once with me home, she rosewithout a word, with the obedience of a child.As we passed along, the gravel hurt my feet,and Lucy noticed me wince. She stopped andwanted to insist upon my taking my shoes,but I would not. However, when we got tothe pathway outside the churchyard, wherethere was a puddle of water, remaining fromthe storm, I daubed my feet with mud, usingeach foot in turn on the other, so that as wewent home, no one, in case we should meetany one, should notice my bare feet.

Fortune favoured us, and we got home with-out meeting a soul. Once we saw a man,who seemed not quite sober, passing along a

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street in front of us. But we hid in a door tillhe had disappeared up an opening such asthere are here, steep little closes, or ‘wynds’,as they call them in Scotland. My heart beatso loud all the time sometimes I thought Ishould faint. I was filled with anxiety aboutLucy, not only for her health, lest she shouldsuffer from the exposure, but for her reputa-tion in case the story should get wind. Whenwe got in, and had washed our feet, andhad said a prayer of thankfulness together, Itucked her into bed. Before falling asleep sheasked, even implored, me not to say a wordto any one, even her mother, about her sleep-walking adventure.

I hesitated at first, to promise, but on thinkingof the state of her mother’s health, and howthe knowledge of such a thing would fret her,and think too, of how such a story might be-come distorted, nay, infallibly would, in caseit should leak out, I thought it wiser to do so.I hope I did right. I have locked the door,and the key is tied to my wrist, so perhapsI shall not be again disturbed. Lucy is sleep-

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ing soundly. The reflex of the dawn is highand far over the sea...

Same day, noon.–All goes well. Lucy slepttill I woke her and seemed not to have evenchanged her side. The adventure of the nightdoes not seem to have harmed her, on thecontrary, it has benefited her, for she looksbetter this morning than she has done forweeks. I was sorry to notice that my clum-siness with the safety-pin hurt her. Indeed, itmight have been serious, for the skin of herthroat was pierced. I must have pinched up apiece of loose skin and have transfixed it, forthere are two little red points like pin-pricks,and on the band of her nightdress was a dropof blood. When I apologised and was con-cerned about it, she laughed and petted me,and said she did not even feel it. Fortunatelyit cannot leave a scar, as it is so tiny.

Same day, night.–We passed a happy day.The air was clear, and the sun bright, andthere was a cool breeze. We took our lunchto Mulgrave Woods, Mrs. Westenra driving

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by the road and Lucy and I walking by thecliff-path and joining her at the gate. I felta little sad myself, for I could not but feelhow absolutely happy it would have beenhad Jonathan been with me. But there! I mustonly be patient. In the evening we strolledin the Casino Terrace, and heard some goodmusic by Spohr and Mackenzie, and wentto bed early. Lucy seems more restful thanshe has been for some time, and fell asleepat once. I shall lock the door and secure thekey the same as before, though I do not ex-pect any trouble tonight.

12 August.–My expectations were wrong, fortwice during the night I was wakened byLucy trying to get out. She seemed, even inher sleep, to be a little impatient at findingthe door shut, and went back to bed under asort of protest. I woke with the dawn, andheard the birds chirping outside of the win-dow. Lucy woke, too, and I was glad to see,was even better than on the previous morn-ing. All her old gaiety of manner seemed tohave come back, and she came and snuggled

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in beside me and told me all about Arthur. Itold her how anxious I was about Jonathan,and then she tried to comfort me. Well, shesucceeded somewhat, for, though sympathycan’t alter facts, it can make them more bear-able.

13 August.–Another quiet day, and to bedwith the key on my wrist as before. AgainI awoke in the night, and found Lucy sittingup in bed, still asleep, pointing to the win-dow. I got up quietly, and pulling aside theblind, looked out. It was brilliant moonlight,and the soft effect of the light over the seaand sky, merged together in one great silentmystery, was beautiful beyond words. Be-tween me and the moonlight flitted a greatbat, coming and going in great whirling cir-cles. Once or twice it came quite close, butwas, I suppose, frightened at seeing me, andflitted away across the harbour towards theabbey. When I came back from the windowLucy had lain down again, and was sleepingpeacefully. She did not stir again all night.

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14 August.–On the East Cliff, reading andwriting all day. Lucy seems to have becomeas much in love with the spot as I am, andit is hard to get her away from it when it istime to come home for lunch or tea or dinner.This afternoon she made a funny remark. Wewere coming home for dinner, and had cometo the top of the steps up from the West Pierand stopped to look at the view, as we gener-ally do. The setting sun, low down in the sky,was just dropping behind Kettleness. The redlight was thrown over on the East Cliff andthe old abbey, and seemed to bathe every-thing in a beautiful rosy glow. We were silentfor a while, and suddenly Lucy murmured asif to herself...

“His red eyes again! They are just the same.”It was such an odd expression, coming apro-pos of nothing, that it quite startled me. Islewed round a little, so as to see Lucy wellwithout seeming to stare at her, and sawthat she was in a half dreamy state, with anodd look on her face that I could not quitemake out, so I said nothing, but followed

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her eyes. She appeared to be looking overat our own seat, whereon was a dark fig-ure seated alone. I was quite a little startledmyself, for it seemed for an instant as if thestranger had great eyes like burning flames,but a second look dispelled the illusion. Thered sunlight was shining on the windows ofSt. Mary’s Church behind our seat, and as thesun dipped there was just sufficient change inthe refraction and reflection to make it appearas if the light moved. I called Lucy’s attentionto the peculiar effect, and she became herselfwith a start, but she looked sad all the same.It may have been that she was thinking of thatterrible night up there. We never refer to it, soI said nothing, and we went home to dinner.Lucy had a headache and went early to bed. Isaw her asleep, and went out for a little strollmyself.

I walked along the cliffs to the westward, andwas full of sweet sadness, for I was think-ing of Jonathan. When coming home, it wasthen bright moonlight, so bright that, thoughthe front of our part of the Crescent was

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in shadow, everything could be well seen, Ithrew a glance up at our window, and sawLucy’s head leaning out. I opened my hand-kerchief and waved it. She did not notice ormake any movement whatever. Just then, themoonlight crept round an angle of the build-ing, and the light fell on the window. Theredistinctly was Lucy with her head lying upagainst the side of the window sill and hereyes shut. She was fast asleep, and by her,seated on the window sill, was somethingthat looked like a good-sized bird. I wasafraid she might get a chill, so I ran upstairs,but as I came into the room she was mov-ing back to her bed, fast asleep, and breath-ing heavily. She was holding her hand to herthroat, as though to protect if from the cold.

I did not wake her, but tucked her up warmly.I have taken care that the door is locked andthe window securely fastened.

She looks so sweet as she sleeps, but she ispaler than is her wont, and there is a drawn,haggard look under her eyes which I do not

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like. I fear she is fretting about something. Iwish I could find out what it is.

15 August.–Rose later than usual. Lucy waslanguid and tired, and slept on after we hadbeen called. We had a happy surprise atbreakfast. Arthur’s father is better, and wantsthe marriage to come off soon. Lucy is full ofquiet joy, and her mother is glad and sorryat once. Later on in the day she told methe cause. She is grieved to lose Lucy as hervery own, but she is rejoiced that she is soonto have some one to protect her. Poor dear,sweet lady! She confided to me that she hasgot her death warrant. She has not told Lucy,and made me promise secrecy. Her doctortold her that within a few months, at most,she must die, for her heart is weakening. Atany time, even now, a sudden shock wouldbe almost sure to kill her. Ah, we were wise tokeep from her the affair of the dreadful nightof Lucy’s sleep-walking.

17 August.–No diary for two whole days. Ihave not had the heart to write. Some sort

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of shadowy pall seems to be coming overour happiness. No news from Jonathan, andLucy seems to be growing weaker, whilst hermother’s hours are numbering to a close. Ido not understand Lucy’s fading away as sheis doing. She eats well and sleeps well, andenjoys the fresh air, but all the time the rosesin her cheeks are fading, and she gets weakerand more languid day by day. At night I hearher gasping as if for air.

I keep the key of our door always fastenedto my wrist at night, but she gets up andwalks about the room, and sits at the openwindow. Last night I found her leaning outwhen I woke up, and when I tried to wakeher I could not.

She was in a faint. When I managed to re-store her, she was weak as water, and criedsilently between long, painful struggles forbreath. When I asked her how she came to beat the window she shook her head and turnedaway.

I trust her feeling ill may not be from that un-

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lucky prick of the safety-pin. I looked at herthroat just now as she lay asleep, and the tinywounds seem not to have healed. They arestill open, and, if anything, larger than before,and the edges of them are faintly white. Theyare like little white dots with red centres. Un-less they heal within a day or two, I shall in-sist on the doctor seeing about them.

LETTER, SAMUEL F. BILLINGTON & SON,SOLICITORS WHITBY,

TO MESSRS. CARTER, PATERSON’ CO., LONDON.

17 August“Dear Sirs,–Herewith please receive invoiceof goods sent by Great Northern Railway.Same are to be delivered at Carfax, near Pur-fleet, immediately on receipt at goods stationKing’s Cross. The house is at present empty,but enclosed please find keys, all of which arelabelled.“You will please deposit the boxes, fifty innumber, which form the consignment, in the

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partially ruined building forming part of thehouse and marked ‘A’ on rough diagramsenclosed. Your agent will easily recognizethe locality, as it is the ancient chapel ofthe mansion. The goods leave by the trainat 9:30 tonight, and will be due at King’sCross at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. As ourclient wishes the delivery made as soon aspossible, we shall be obliged by your hav-ing teams ready at King’s Cross at the timenamed and forthwith conveying the goods todestination. In order to obviate any delayspossible through any routine requirementsas to payment in your departments, we en-close cheque herewith for ten pounds, receiptof which please acknowledge. Should thecharge be less than this amount, you can re-turn balance, if greater, we shall at once sendcheque for difference on hearing from you.You are to leave the keys on coming away inthe main hall of the house, where the propri-etor may get them on his entering the houseby means of his duplicate key.

“Pray do not take us as exceeding the bounds

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of business courtesy in pressing you in allways to use the utmost expedition.“We are, dear Sirs, Faithfully yours, SAMUELF. BILLINGTON’ SON”

LETTER, MESSRS. CARTER, PATERSON’ CO.,LONDON, TO MESSRS. BILLINGTON’ SON, WHITBY.

21 August.“Dear Sirs,–We beg to acknowledge 10pounds received and to return cheque of1 pound, 17s, 9d, amount of overplus, asshown in receipted account herewith. Goodsare delivered in exact accordance with in-structions, and keys left in parcel in main hall,as directed.“We are, dear Sirs, Yours respectfully, ProCARTER, PATERSON’ CO.”

MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL.

18 August.–I am happy today, and write sit-ting on the seat in the churchyard. Lucy is

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ever so much better. Last night she slept wellall night, and did not disturb me once.The roses seem coming back already to hercheeks, though she is still sadly pale andwan-looking. If she were in any way ane-mic I could understand it, but she is not. Sheis in gay spirits and full of life and cheer-fulness. All the morbid reticence seems tohave passed from her, and she has just re-minded me, as if I needed any reminding, ofthat night, and that it was here, on this veryseat, I found her asleep.As she told me she tapped playfully with theheel of her boot on the stone slab and said,“My poor little feet didn’t make much noisethen! I daresay poor old Mr. Swales wouldhave told me that it was because I didn’t wantto wake up Geordie.”As she was in such a communicative humour,I asked her if she had dreamed at all thatnight.Before she answered, that sweet, puckeredlook came into her forehead, which Arthur, I

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call him Arthur from her habit, says he loves,and indeed, I don’t wonder that he does.Then she went on in a half-dreaming kind ofway, as if trying to recall it to herself.

“I didn’t quite dream, but it all seemed tobe real. I only wanted to be here in thisspot. I don’t know why, for I was afraidof something, I don’t know what. I remem-ber, though I suppose I was asleep, passingthrough the streets and over the bridge. Afish leaped as I went by, and I leaned over tolook at it, and I heard a lot of dogs howling.The whole town seemed as if it must be fullof dogs all howling at once, as I went up thesteps. Then I had a vague memory of some-thing long and dark with red eyes, just as wesaw in the sunset, and something very sweetand very bitter all around me at once. Andthen I seemed sinking into deep green water,and there was a singing in my ears, as I haveheard there is to drowning men, and then ev-erything seemed passing away from me. Mysoul seemed to go out from my body and floatabout the air. I seem to remember that once

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the West Lighthouse was right under me, andthen there was a sort of agonizing feeling, asif I were in an earthquake, and I came backand found you shaking my body. I saw youdo it before I felt you.”

Then she began to laugh. It seemed a littleuncanny to me, and I listened to her breath-lessly. I did not quite like it, and thought itbetter not to keep her mind on the subject, sowe drifted on to another subject, and Lucywas like her old self again. When we gothome the fresh breeze had braced her up, andher pale cheeks were really more rosy. Hermother rejoiced when she saw her, and we allspent a very happy evening together.

19 August.–Joy, joy, joy! Although not all joy.At last, news of Jonathan. The dear fellow hasbeen ill, that is why he did not write. I am notafraid to think it or to say it, now that I know.Mr. Hawkins sent me on the letter, and wrotehimself, oh so kindly. I am to leave in themorning and go over to Jonathan, and to helpto nurse him if necessary, and to bring him

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home. Mr. Hawkins says it would not be abad thing if we were to be married out there.I have cried over the good Sister’s letter tillI can feel it wet against my bosom, where itlies. It is of Jonathan, and must be near myheart, for he is in my heart. My journey isall mapped out, and my luggage ready. I amonly taking one change of dress. Lucy willbring my trunk to London and keep it till Isend for it, for it may be that... I must writeno more. I must keep it to say to Jonathan,my husband. The letter that he has seen andtouched must comfort me till we meet.

LETTER, SISTER AGATHA, HOSPITAL OF ST. JOSEPHAND STE. MARY BUDA-PESTH, TO MISS

WILLHELMINA MURRAY

12 August,“Dear Madam.“I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker,who is himself not strong enough to write,though progressing well, thanks to God and

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St. Joseph and Ste. Mary. He has been un-der our care for nearly six weeks, sufferingfrom a violent brain fever. He wishes me toconvey his love, and to say that by this post Iwrite for him to Mr. Peter Hawkins, Exeter, tosay, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorryfor his delay, and that all of his work is com-pleted. He will require some few weeks’ restin our sanatorium in the hills, but will thenreturn. He wishes me to say that he has notsufficient money with him, and that he wouldlike to pay for his staying here, so that otherswho need shall not be wanting for help.

“Believe me,

“Yours, with sympathy and all blessings. Sis-ter Agatha

“P.S.–My patient being asleep, I open this tolet you know something more. He has toldme all about you, and that you are shortly tobe his wife. All blessings to you both! Hehas had some fearful shock, so says our doc-tor, and in his delirium his ravings have beendreadful, of wolves and poison and blood, of

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ghosts and demons, and I fear to say of what.Be careful of him always that there may benothing to excite him of this kind for a longtime to come. The traces of such an illness ashis do not lightly die away. We should havewritten long ago, but we knew nothing of hisfriends, and there was nothing on him, noth-ing that anyone could understand. He camein the train from Klausenburg, and the guardwas told by the station master there that herushed into the station shouting for a ticketfor home. Seeing from his violent demeanourthat he was English, they gave him a ticket forthe furthest station on the way thither that thetrain reached.“Be assured that he is well cared for. He haswon all hearts by his sweetness and gentle-ness. He is truly getting on well, and I haveno doubt will in a few weeks be all himself.But be careful of him for safety’s sake. Thereare, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary,many, many, happy years for you both.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

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19 August.–Strange and sudden change inRenfield last night. About eight o’clock hebegan to get excited and sniff about as a dogdoes when setting. The attendant was struckby his manner, and knowing my interest inhim, encouraged him to talk. He is usually re-spectful to the attendant and at times servile,but tonight, the man tells me, he was quitehaughty. Would not condescend to talk withhim at all.

All he would say was, “I don’t want to talk toyou. You don’t count now. The master is athand.”

The attendant thinks it is some sudden formof religious mania which has seized him. Ifso, we must look out for squalls, for a strongman with homicidal and religious mania atonce might be dangerous. The combinationis a dreadful one.

At nine o’clock I visited him myself. His at-titude to me was the same as that to the at-tendant. In his sublime self-feeling the dif-ference between myself and the attendant

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seemed to him as nothing. It looks like reli-gious mania, and he will soon think that hehimself is God.

These infinitesimal distinctions between manand man are too paltry for an OmnipotentBeing. How these madmen give themselvesaway! The real God taketh heed lest a spar-row fall. But the God created from humanvanity sees no difference between an eagleand a sparrow. Oh, if men only knew!

For half an hour or more Renfield kept get-ting excited in greater and greater degree. Idid not pretend to be watching him, but Ikept strict observation all the same. All atonce that shifty look came into his eyes whichwe always see when a madman has seizedan idea, and with it the shifty movement ofthe head and back which asylum attendantscome to know so well. He became quite quiet,and went and sat on the edge of his bed re-signedly, and looked into space with lack-luster eyes.

I thought I would find out if his apathy were

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real or only assumed, and tried to lead himto talk of his pets, a theme which had neverfailed to excite his attention.

At first he made no reply, but at length saidtestily, “Bother them all! I don’t care a pinabout them.”

“What?” I said. “You don’t mean to tell meyou don’t care about spiders?” (Spiders atpresent are his hobby and the notebook is fill-ing up with columns of small figures.)

To this he answered enigmatically, “The Bridemaidens rejoice the eyes that wait the com-ing of the bride. But when the bride drawethnigh, then the maidens shine not to the eyesthat are filled.”

He would not explain himself, but remainedobstinately seated on his bed all the time I re-mained with him.

I am weary tonight and low in spirits. Icannot but think of Lucy, and how differentthings might have been. If I don’t sleep atonce, chloral, the modern Morpheus! I must

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be careful not to let it grow into a habit. No,I shall take none tonight! I have thought ofLucy, and I shall not dishonour her by mixingthe two. If need be, tonight shall be sleepless.

Later.–Glad I made the resolution, gladderthat I kept to it. I had lain tossing about,and had heard the clock strike only twice,when the night watchman came to me, sentup from the ward, to say that Renfield had es-caped. I threw on my clothes and ran downat once. My patient is too dangerous a personto be roaming about. Those ideas of his mightwork out dangerously with strangers.

The attendant was waiting for me. He said hehad seen him not ten minutes before, seem-ingly asleep in his bed, when he had lookedthrough the observation trap in the door. Hisattention was called by the sound of the win-dow being wrenched out. He ran back andsaw his feet disappear through the window,and had at once sent up for me. He was onlyin his night gear, and cannot be far off.

The attendant thought it would be more use-

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ful to watch where he should go than to fol-low him, as he might lose sight of him whilstgetting out of the building by the door. Heis a bulky man, and couldn’t get through thewindow.

I am thin, so, with his aid, I got out, butfeet foremost, and as we were only a few feetabove ground landed unhurt.

The attendant told me the patient had goneto the left, and had taken a straight line, soI ran as quickly as I could. As I got throughthe belt of trees I saw a white figure scale thehigh wall which separates our grounds fromthose of the deserted house.

I ran back at once, told the watchman to getthree or four men immediately and follow meinto the grounds of Carfax, in case our friendmight be dangerous. I got a ladder myself,and crossing the wall, dropped down on theother side. I could see Renfield’s figure justdisappearing behind the angle of the house,so I ran after him. On the far side of thehouse I found him pressed close against the

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old iron-bound oak door of the chapel.He was talking, apparently to some one, butI was afraid to go near enough to hear whathe was saying, lest I might frighten him, andhe should run off.Chasing an errant swarm of bees is nothingto following a naked lunatic, when the fit ofescaping is upon him! After a few minutes,however, I could see that he did not take noteof anything around him, and so ventured todraw nearer to him, the more so as my menhad now crossed the wall and were closinghim in. I heard him say...“I am here to do your bidding, Master. I amyour slave, and you will reward me, for Ishall be faithful. I have worshipped you longand afar off. Now that you are near, I awaityour commands, and you will not pass me by,will you, dear Master, in your distribution ofgood things?”He is a selfish old beggar anyhow. He thinksof the loaves and fishes even when he be-lieves he is in a real Presence. His ma-

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nias make a startling combination. When weclosed in on him he fought like a tiger. Heis immensely strong, for he was more like awild beast than a man.I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm ofrage before, and I hope I shall not again. It isa mercy that we have found out his strengthand his danger in good time. With strengthand determination like his, he might havedone wild work before he was caged.He is safe now, at any rate. Jack Shep-pard himself couldn’t get free from the straitwaistcoat that keeps him restrained, and he’schained to the wall in the padded room.His cries are at times awful, but the silencesthat follow are more deadly still, for he meansmurder in every turn and movement.Just now he spoke coherent words for the firsttime. “I shall be patient, Master. It is coming,coming, coming!”So I took the hint, and came too. I was too ex-cited to sleep, but this diary has quieted me,and I feel I shall get some sleep tonight.

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LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA

Buda-Pesth, 24 August.

“My dearest Lucy,

“I know you will be anxious to hear all thathas happened since we parted at the railwaystation at Whitby.

“Well, my dear, I got to Hull all right, andcaught the boat to Hamburg, and then thetrain on here. I feel that I can hardly recallanything of the journey, except that I knew I

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was coming to Jonathan, and that as I shouldhave to do some nursing, I had better get allthe sleep I could. I found my dear one, oh,so thin and pale and weak-looking. All theresolution has gone out of his dear eyes, andthat quiet dignity which I told you was in hisface has vanished. He is only a wreck of him-self, and he does not remember anything thathas happened to him for a long time past. Atleast, he wants me to believe so, and I shallnever ask.

“He has had some terrible shock, and I fearit might tax his poor brain if he were to try torecall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good creatureand a born nurse, tells me that he wanted herto tell me what they were, but she would onlycross herself, and say she would never tell.That the ravings of the sick were the secretsof God, and that if a nurse through her voca-tion should hear them, she should respect hertrust.

“She is a sweet, good soul, and the next day,when she saw I was troubled, she opened up

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the subject my poor dear raved about, added,‘I can tell you this much, my dear. That it wasnot about anything which he has done wronghimself, and you, as his wife to be, have nocause to be concerned. He has not forgottenyou or what he owes to you. His fear was ofgreat and terrible things, which no mortal cantreat of.’

“I do believe the dear soul thought I might bejealous lest my poor dear should have fallenin love with any other girl. The idea of my be-ing jealous about Jonathan! And yet, my dear,let me whisper, I felt a thrill of joy throughme when I knew that no other woman was acause for trouble. I am now sitting by his bed-side, where I can see his face while he sleeps.He is waking!

“When he woke he asked me for his coat, ashe wanted to get something from the pocket.I asked Sister Agatha, and she brought all histhings. I saw amongst them was his note-book, and was going to ask him to let me lookat it, for I knew that I might find some clue

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to his trouble, but I suppose he must haveseen my wish in my eyes, for he sent me overto the window, saying he wanted to be quitealone for a moment.

“Then he called me back, and he said to mevery solemnly, ‘Wilhelmina’, I knew then thathe was in deadly earnest, for he has nevercalled me by that name since he asked meto marry him, ‘You know, dear, my ideas ofthe trust between husband and wife. Thereshould be no secret, no concealment. I havehad a great shock, and when I try to think ofwhat it is I feel my head spin round, and I donot know if it was real of the dreaming of amadman. You know I had brain fever, andthat is to be mad. The secret is here, and I donot want to know it. I want to take up mylife here, with our marriage.’ For, my dear,we had decided to be married as soon as theformalities are complete. ‘Are you willing,Wilhelmina, to share my ignorance? Here isthe book. Take it and keep it, read it if youwill, but never let me know unless, indeed,some solemn duty should come upon me to

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go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake,sane or mad, recorded here.’ He fell back ex-hausted, and I put the book under his pillow,and kissed him. I have asked Sister Agathato beg the Superior to let our wedding be thisafternoon, and am waiting her reply...”

“She has come and told me that the Chaplainof the English mission church has been sentfor. We are to be married in an hour, or assoon after as Jonathan awakes.”

“Lucy, the time has come and gone. I feelvery solemn, but very, very happy. Jonathanwoke a little after the hour, and all was ready,and he sat up in bed, propped up with pil-lows. He answered his ‘I will’ firmly andstrong. I could hardly speak. My heart wasso full that even those words seemed to chokeme.

“The dear sisters were so kind. Please, God, Ishall never, never forget them, nor the graveand sweet responsibilities I have taken uponme. I must tell you of my wedding present.When the chaplain and the sisters had left

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me alone with my husband–oh, Lucy, it isthe first time I have written the words ‘myhusband’–left me alone with my husband, Itook the book from under his pillow, andwrapped it up in white paper, and tied itwith a little bit of pale blue ribbon which wasround my neck, and sealed it over the knotwith sealing wax, and for my seal I used mywedding ring. Then I kissed it and showedit to my husband, and told him that I wouldkeep it so, and then it would be an outwardand visible sign for us all our lives that wetrusted each other, that I would never openit unless it were for his own dear sake or forthe sake of some stern duty. Then he took myhand in his, and oh, Lucy, it was the first timehe took his wife’s hand, and said that it wasthe dearest thing in all the wide world, andthat he would go through all the past againto win it, if need be. The poor dear meantto have said a part of the past, but he cannotthink of time yet, and I shall not wonder if atfirst he mixes up not only the month, but theyear.

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“Well, my dear, what could I say? I couldonly tell him that I was the happiest womanin all the wide world, and that I had noth-ing to give him except myself, my life, andmy trust, and that with these went my loveand duty for all the days of my life. And,my dear, when he kissed me, and drew meto him with his poor weak hands, it was likea solemn pledge between us.

“Lucy dear, do you know why I tell you allthis? It is not only because it is all sweet tome, but because you have been, and are, verydear to me. It was my privilege to be yourfriend and guide when you came from theschoolroom to prepare for the world of life.I want you to see now, and with the eyes of avery happy wife, whither duty has led me, sothat in your own married life you too may beall happy, as I am. My dear, please AlmightyGod, your life may be all it promises, a longday of sunshine, with no harsh wind, no for-getting duty, no distrust. I must not wish youno pain, for that can never be, but I do hopeyou will be always as happy as I am now.

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Goodbye, my dear. I shall post this at once,and perhaps, write you very soon again. Imust stop, for Jonathan is waking. I must at-tend my husband!“Your ever-loving Mina Harker.”

LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA HARKER.

Whitby, 30 August.“My dearest Mina,“Oceans of love and millions of kisses, andmay you soon be in your own home withyour husband. I wish you were coming homesoon enough to stay with us here. The strongair would soon restore Jonathan. It has quiterestored me. I have an appetite like a cor-morant, am full of life, and sleep well. Youwill be glad to know that I have quite givenup walking in my sleep. I think I have notstirred out of my bed for a week, that is whenI once got into it at night. Arthur says I amgetting fat. By the way, I forgot to tell youthat Arthur is here. We have such walks

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and drives, and rides, and rowing, and ten-nis, and fishing together, and I love him morethan ever. He tells me that he loves me more,but I doubt that, for at first he told me that hecouldn’t love me more than he did then. Butthis is nonsense. There he is, calling to me. Sono more just at present from your loving,“Lucy.“P.S.–Mother sends her love. She seems bet-ter, poor dear.“P.P.S.–We are to be married on 28 Septem-ber.”

DR. SEWARDS DIARY

20 August.–The case of Renfield grows evenmore interesting. He has now so far quietedthat there are spells of cessation from his pas-sion. For the first week after his attack he wasperpetually violent. Then one night, just asthe moon rose, he grew quiet, and kept mur-muring to himself. “Now I can wait. Now Ican wait.”

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The attendant came to tell me, so I ran downat once to have a look at him. He was stillin the strait waistcoat and in the paddedroom, but the suffused look had gone fromhis face, and his eyes had something of theirold pleading. I might almost say, cringing,softness. I was satisfied with his present con-dition, and directed him to be relieved. Theattendants hesitated, but finally carried outmy wishes without protest.

It was a strange thing that the patient had hu-mour enough to see their distrust, for, comingclose to me, he said in a whisper, all the whilelooking furtively at them, “They think I couldhurt you! Fancy me hurting you! The fools!”

It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings tofind myself disassociated even in the mind ofthis poor madman from the others, but all thesame I do not follow his thought. Am I totake it that I have anything in common withhim, so that we are, as it were, to stand to-gether. Or has he to gain from me some goodso stupendous that my well being is needful

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to Him? I must find out later on. Tonight hewill not speak. Even the offer of a kitten oreven a full-grown cat will not tempt him.

He will only say, “I don’t take any stock incats. I have more to think of now, and I canwait. I can wait.”

After a while I left him. The attendant tellsme that he was quiet until just before dawn,and that then he began to get uneasy, andat length violent, until at last he fell into aparoxysm which exhausted him so that heswooned into a sort of coma.

. . . Three nights has the same thing hap-pened, violent all day then quiet from moon-rise to sunrise. I wish I could get some clue tothe cause. It would almost seem as if therewas some influence which came and went.Happy thought! We shall tonight play sanewits against mad ones. He escaped beforewithout our help. Tonight he shall escapewith it. We shall give him a chance, and havethe men ready to follow in case they are re-quired.

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23 August.–”The expected always happens.”How well Disraeli knew life. Our bird whenhe found the cage open would not fly, so allour subtle arrangements were for nought. Atany rate, we have proved one thing, that thespells of quietness last a reasonable time. Weshall in future be able to ease his bonds fora few hours each day. I have given ordersto the night attendant merely to shut him inthe padded room, when once he is quiet, untilthe hour before sunrise. The poor soul’s bodywill enjoy the relief even if his mind cannotappreciate it. Hark! The unexpected again!I am called. The patient has once more es-caped.

Later.–Another night adventure. Renfieldartfully waited until the attendant was enter-ing the room to inspect. Then he dashed outpast him and flew down the passage. I sentword for the attendants to follow. Again hewent into the grounds of the deserted house,and we found him in the same place, pressedagainst the old chapel door. When he sawme he became furious, and had not the at-

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tendants seized him in time, he would havetried to kill me. As we were holding him astrange thing happened. He suddenly redou-bled his efforts, and then as suddenly grewcalm. I looked round instinctively, but couldsee nothing. Then I caught the patient’s eyeand followed it, but could trace nothing as itlooked into the moonlight sky, except a bigbat, which was flapping its silent and ghostlyway to the west. Bats usually wheel about,but this one seemed to go straight on, as ifit knew where it was bound for or had someintention of its own.

The patient grew calmer every instant, andpresently said, “You needn’t tie me. I shall goquietly!” Without trouble, we came back tothe house. I feel there is something ominousin his calm, and shall not forget this night.

LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY

Hillingham, 24 August.–I must imitate Mina,and keep writing things down. Then we can

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have long talks when we do meet. I won-der when it will be. I wish she were withme again, for I feel so unhappy. Last night Iseemed to be dreaming again just as I was atWhitby. Perhaps it is the change of air, or get-ting home again. It is all dark and horrid tome, for I can remember nothing. But I am fullof vague fear, and I feel so weak and wornout. When Arthur came to lunch he lookedquite grieved when he saw me, and I hadn’tthe spirit to try to be cheerful. I wonder if Icould sleep in mother’s room tonight. I shallmake an excuse to try.

25 August.–Another bad night. Mother didnot seem to take to my proposal. She seemsnot too well herself, and doubtless she fearsto worry me. I tried to keep awake, and suc-ceeded for a while, but when the clock strucktwelve it waked me from a doze, so I musthave been falling asleep. There was a sort ofscratching or flapping at the window, but Idid not mind it, and as I remember no more,I suppose I must have fallen asleep. Morebad dreams. I wish I could remember them.

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This morning I am horribly weak. My faceis ghastly pale, and my throat pains me. Itmust be something wrong with my lungs, forI don’t seem to be getting air enough. I shalltry to cheer up when Arthur comes, or else Iknow he will be miserable to see me so.

LETTER, ARTHUR TO DR. SEWARD

“Albemarle Hotel, 31 August“My dear Jack,“I want you to do me a favour. Lucy is ill, thatis she has no special disease, but she looksawful, and is getting worse every day. I haveasked her if there is any cause, I not dare toask her mother, for to disturb the poor lady’smind about her daughter in her present stateof health would be fatal. Mrs. Westenra hasconfided to me that her doom is spoken, dis-ease of the heart, though poor Lucy does notknow it yet. I am sure that there is some-thing preying on my dear girl’s mind. I amalmost distracted when I think of her. To look

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at her gives me a pang. I told her I shouldask you to see her, and though she demurredat first, I know why, old fellow, she finallyconsented. It will be a painful task for you,I know, old friend, but it is for her sake, andI must not hesitate to ask, or you to act. Youare to come to lunch at Hillingham tomorrow,two o’clock, so as not to arouse any suspicionin Mrs. Westenra, and after lunch Lucy willtake an opportunity of being alone with you.I am filled with anxiety, and want to consultwith you alone as soon as I can after you haveseen her. Do not fail!“Arthur.”

TELEGRAM, ARTHUR HOLMWOOD TO SEWARD

1 September“Am summoned to see my father, who isworse. Am writing. Write me fully bytonight’s post to Ring. Wire me if necessary.”

LETTER FROM DR. SEWARD TO ARTHURHOLMWOOD

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2 September

“My dear old fellow,

“With regard to Miss Westenra’s health I has-ten to let you know at once that in my opin-ion there is not any functional disturbance orany malady that I know of. At the same time,I am not by any means satisfied with her ap-pearance. She is woefully different from whatshe was when I saw her last. Of course youmust bear in mind that I did not have fullopportunity of examination such as I shouldwish. Our very friendship makes a little diffi-culty which not even medical science or cus-tom can bridge over. I had better tell you ex-actly what happened, leaving you to draw, ina measure, your own conclusions. I shall thensay what I have done and propose doing.

“I found Miss Westenra in seemingly gayspirits. Her mother was present, and in a fewseconds I made up my mind that she was try-ing all she knew to mislead her mother andprevent her from being anxious. I have nodoubt she guesses, if she does not know, what

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need of caution there is.

“We lunched alone, and as we all exerted our-selves to be cheerful, we got, as some kind ofreward for our labours, some real cheerful-ness amongst us. Then Mrs. Westenra wentto lie down, and Lucy was left with me. Wewent into her boudoir, and till we got thereher gaiety remained, for the servants werecoming and going.

“As soon as the door was closed, however,the mask fell from her face, and she sankdown into a chair with a great sigh, and hidher eyes with her hand. When I saw that herhigh spirits had failed, I at once took advan-tage of her reaction to make a diagnosis.

“She said to me very sweetly, ‘I cannot tellyou how I loathe talking about myself.’ I re-minded her that a doctor’s confidence wassacred, but that you were grievously anxiousabout her. She caught on to my meaning atonce, and settled that matter in a word. ‘TellArthur everything you choose. I do not carefor myself, but for him!’ So I am quite free.

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“I could easily see that she was somewhatbloodless, but I could not see the usual ane-mic signs, and by the chance, I was able to testthe actual quality of her blood, for in open-ing a window which was stiff a cord gaveway, and she cut her hand slightly with bro-ken glass. It was a slight matter in itself, butit gave me an evident chance, and I secureda few drops of the blood and have analysedthem.

“The qualitative analysis give a quite normalcondition, and shows, I should infer, in itselfa vigorous state of health. In other physi-cal matters I was quite satisfied that there isno need for anxiety, but as there must be acause somewhere, I have come to the conclu-sion that it must be something mental.

“She complains of difficulty breathing sat-isfactorily at times, and of heavy, lethargicsleep, with dreams that frighten her, but re-garding which she can remember nothing.She says that as a child, she used to walk inher sleep, and that when in Whitby the habit

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came back, and that once she walked out inthe night and went to East Cliff, where MissMurray found her. But she assures me that oflate the habit has not returned.

“I am in doubt, and so have done the bestthing I know of. I have written to my oldfriend and master, Professor Van Helsing, ofAmsterdam, who knows as much about ob-scure diseases as any one in the world. I haveasked him to come over, and as you told methat all things were to be at your charge, Ihave mentioned to him who you are and yourrelations to Miss Westenra. This, my dear fel-low, is in obedience to your wishes, for I amonly too proud and happy to do anything Ican for her.

“Van Helsing would, I know, do anything forme for a personal reason, so no matter onwhat ground he comes, we must accept hiswishes. He is a seemingly arbitrary man, thisis because he knows what he is talking aboutbetter than any one else. He is a philosopherand a metaphysician, and one of the most ad-

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vanced scientists of his day, and he has, I be-lieve, an absolutely open mind. This, with aniron nerve, a temper of the ice-brook, and in-domitable resolution, self-command, and tol-eration exalted from virtues to blessings, andthe kindliest and truest heart that beats, theseform his equipment for the noble work thathe is doing for mankind, work both in the-ory and practice, for his views are as wide ashis all-embracing sympathy. I tell you thesefacts that you may know why I have suchconfidence in him. I have asked him to comeat once. I shall see Miss Westenra tomorrowagain. She is to meet me at the Stores, so that Imay not alarm her mother by too early a rep-etition of my call.

“Yours always.”John Seward

LETTER, ABRAHAM VAN HELSING, MD, DPh, D. Lit,ETC, ETC, TO DR. SEWARD

2 September.

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“My good Friend,

“When I received your letter I am alreadycoming to you. By good fortune I can leavejust at once, without wrong to any of thosewho have trusted me. Were fortune other,then it were bad for those who have trusted,for I come to my friend when he call me toaid those he holds dear. Tell your friend thatwhen that time you suck from my wound soswiftly the poison of the gangrene from thatknife that our other friend, too nervous, letslip, you did more for him when he wants myaids and you call for them than all his greatfortune could do. But it is pleasure addedto do for him, your friend, it is to you thatI come. Have near at hand, and please it soarrange that we may see the young lady nottoo late on tomorrow, for it is likely that I mayhave to return here that night. But if needbe I shall come again in three days, and staylonger if it must. Till then goodbye, my friendJohn.

“Van Helsing.”

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LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHURHOLMWOOD

3 September“My dear Art,“Van Helsing has come and gone. He cameon with me to Hillingham, and found that, byLucy’s discretion, her mother was lunchingout, so that we were alone with her.“Van Helsing made a very careful examina-tion of the patient. He is to report to me,and I shall advise you, for of course I was notpresent all the time. He is, I fear, much con-cerned, but says he must think. When I toldhim of our friendship and how you trust tome in the matter, he said, ‘You must tell himall you think. Tell him what I think, if youcan guess it, if you will. Nay, I am not jest-ing. This is no jest, but life and death, per-haps more.’ I asked what he meant by that,for he was very serious. This was when wehad come back to town, and he was havinga cup of tea before starting on his return to

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Amsterdam. He would not give me any fur-ther clue. You must not be angry with me,Art, because his very reticence means that allhis brains are working for her good. He willspeak plainly enough when the time comes,be sure. So I told him I would simply writean account of our visit, just as if I were doinga descriptive special article for THE DAILYTELEGRAPH. He seemed not to notice, butremarked that the smuts of London were notquite so bad as they used to be when he was astudent here. I am to get his report tomorrowif he can possibly make it. In any case I am tohave a letter.

“Well, as to the visit, Lucy was more cheer-ful than on the day I first saw her, and cer-tainly looked better. She had lost somethingof the ghastly look that so upset you, and herbreathing was normal. She was very sweet tothe Professor (as she always is), and tried tomake him feel at ease, though I could see thepoor girl was making a hard struggle for it.

“I believe Van Helsing saw it, too, for I saw

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the quick look under his bushy brows thatI knew of old. Then he began to chat ofall things except ourselves and diseases andwith such an infinite geniality that I could seepoor Lucy’s pretense of animation merge intoreality. Then, without any seeming change,he brought the conversation gently round tohis visit, and suavely said,

“‘My dear young miss, I have the so greatpleasure because you are so much beloved.That is much, my dear, even were there thatwhich I do not see. They told me you weredown in the spirit, and that you were of aghastly pale. To them I say “Pouf¡“ And hesnapped his fingers at me and went on. ‘Butyou and I shall show them how wrong theyare. How can he,’ and he pointed at me withthe same look and gesture as that with whichhe pointed me out in his class, on, or ratherafter, a particular occasion which he neverfails to remind me of, ‘know anything of ayoung ladies? He has his madmen to playwith, and to bring them back to happiness,and to those that love them. It is much to do,

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and, oh, but there are rewards in that we canbestow such happiness. But the young ladies!He has no wife nor daughter, and the youngdo not tell themselves to the young, but to theold, like me, who have known so many sor-rows and the causes of them. So, my dear, wewill send him away to smoke the cigarette inthe garden, whiles you and I have little talkall to ourselves.’ I took the hint, and strolledabout, and presently the professor came tothe window and called me in. He lookedgrave, but said, ‘I have made careful exami-nation, but there is no functional cause. Withyou I agree that there has been much bloodlost, it has been but is not. But the conditionsof her are in no way anemic. I have asked herto send me her maid, that I may ask just oneor two questions, that so I may not chanceto miss nothing. I know well what she willsay. And yet there is cause. There is alwayscause for everything. I must go back homeand think. You must send me the telegramevery day, and if there be cause I shall comeagain. The disease, for not to be well is a dis-

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ease, interest me, and the sweet, young dear,she interest me too. She charm me, and forher, if not for you or disease, I come.’“As I tell you, he would not say a word more,even when we were alone. And so now, Art,you know all I know. I shall keep stern watch.I trust your poor father is rallying. It must bea terrible thing to you, my dear old fellow,to be placed in such a position between twopeople who are both so dear to you. I knowyour idea of duty to your father, and you areright to stick to it. But if need be, I shall sendyou word to come at once to Lucy, so do notbe over-anxious unless you hear from me.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

4 September.–Zoophagous patient still keepsup our interest in him. He had only one out-burst and that was yesterday at an unusualtime. Just before the stroke of noon he be-gan to grow restless. The attendant knew thesymptoms, and at once summoned aid. For-tunately the men came at a run, and were

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just in time, for at the stroke of noon he be-came so violent that it took all their strengthto hold him. In about five minutes, how-ever, he began to get more quiet, and finallysank into a sort of melancholy, in which statehe has remained up to now. The attendanttells me that his screams whilst in the parox-ysm were really appalling. I found my handsfull when I got in, attending to some of theother patients who were frightened by him.Indeed, I can quite understand the effect, forthe sounds disturbed even me, though I wassome distance away. It is now after the dinnerhour of the asylum, and as yet my patient sitsin a corner brooding, with a dull, sullen, woe-begone look in his face, which seems ratherto indicate than to show something directly. Icannot quite understand it.

Later.–Another change in my patient. At fiveo’clock I looked in on him, and found himseemingly as happy and contented as he usedto be. He was catching flies and eating them,and was keeping note of his capture by mak-ing nailmarks on the edge of the door be-

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tween the ridges of padding. When he sawme, he came over and apologized for his badconduct, and asked me in a very humble,cringing way to be led back to his own room,and to have his notebook again. I thought itwell to humour him, so he is back in his roomwith the window open. He has the sugar ofhis tea spread out on the window sill, and isreaping quite a harvest of flies. He is not noweating them, but putting them into a box, asof old, and is already examining the cornersof his room to find a spider. I tried to get himto talk about the past few days, for any clueto his thoughts would be of immense help tome, but he would not rise. For a moment ortwo he looked very sad, and said in a sort offar away voice, as though saying it rather tohimself than to me.

“All over! All over! He has deserted me. Nohope for me now unless I do it myself!” Thensuddenly turning to me in a resolute way, hesaid, “Doctor, won’t you be very good to meand let me have a little more sugar? I think itwould be very good for me.”

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“And the flies?” I said.

“Yes! The flies like it, too, and I like the flies,therefore I like it.” And there are people whoknow so little as to think that madmen do notargue. I procured him a double supply, andleft him as happy a man as, I suppose, any inthe world. I wish I could fathom his mind.

Midnight.–Another change in him. I hadbeen to see Miss Westenra, whom I foundmuch better, and had just returned, and wasstanding at our own gate looking at the sun-set, when once more I heard him yelling.As his room is on this side of the house, Icould hear it better than in the morning. Itwas a shock to me to turn from the wonder-ful smoky beauty of a sunset over London,with its lurid lights and inky shadows and allthe marvellous tints that come on foul cloudseven as on foul water, and to realize all thegrim sternness of my own cold stone build-ing, with its wealth of breathing misery, andmy own desolate heart to endure it all. Ireached him just as the sun was going down,

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and from his window saw the red disc sink.As it sank he became less and less frenzied,and just as it dipped he slid from the handsthat held him, an inert mass, on the floor. Itis wonderful, however, what intellectual re-cuperative power lunatics have, for within afew minutes he stood up quite calmly andlooked around him. I signalled to the atten-dants not to hold him, for I was anxious to seewhat he would do. He went straight over tothe window and brushed out the crumbs ofsugar. Then he took his fly box, and emptiedit outside, and threw away the box. Then heshut the window, and crossing over, sat downon his bed. All this surprised me, so I askedhim, “Are you going to keep flies any more?”

“No,” said he. “I am sick of all that rub-bish!” He certainly is a wonderfully interest-ing study. I wish I could get some glimpse ofhis mind or of the cause of his sudden pas-sion. Stop. There may be a clue after all, ifwe can find why today his paroxysms cameon at high noon and at sunset. Can it be thatthere is a malign influence of the sun at peri-

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ods which affects certain natures, as at timesthe moon does others? We shall see.

TELEGRAM. SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING,AMSTERDAM

“4 September.–Patient still better today.”

TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING,AMSTERDAM

“5 September.–Patient greatly improved.Good appetite, sleeps naturally, good spirits,colour coming back.”

TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING,AMSTERDAM

“6 September.–Terrible change for the worse.Come at once. Do not lose an hour. I holdover telegram to Holmwood till have seenyou.”

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LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHURHOLMWOOD

6 September“My dear Art,“My news today is not so good. Lucy thismorning had gone back a bit. There is, how-ever, one good thing which has arisen fromit. Mrs. Westenra was naturally anxious con-cerning Lucy, and has consulted me profes-sionally about her. I took advantage of theopportunity, and told her that my old master,

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Van Helsing, the great specialist, was comingto stay with me, and that I would put her inhis charge conjointly with myself. So now wecan come and go without alarming her un-duly, for a shock to her would mean suddendeath, and this, in Lucy’s weak condition,might be disastrous to her. We are hedgedin with difficulties, all of us, my poor fellow,but, please God, we shall come through themall right. If any need I shall write, so that, ifyou do not hear from me, take it for grantedthat I am simply waiting for news, In haste,“Yours ever,”John Seward

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

7 September.–The first thing Van Helsingsaid to me when we met at Liverpool Streetwas, “Have you said anything to our youngfriend, to lover of her?”“No,” I said. “I waited till I had seen you,as I said in my telegram. I wrote him a let-ter simply telling him that you were coming,

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as Miss Westenra was not so well, and that Ishould let him know if need be.”

“Right, my friend,” he said. “Quite right!Better he not know as yet. Perhaps he willnever know. I pray so, but if it be needed,then he shall know all. And, my good friendJohn, let me caution you. You deal withthe madmen. All men are mad in someway or the other, and inasmuch as you dealdiscreetly with your madmen, so deal withGod’s madmen too, the rest of the world.You tell not your madmen what you do norwhy you do it. You tell them not what youthink. So you shall keep knowledge in itsplace, where it may rest, where it may gatherits kind around it and breed. You and Ishall keep as yet what we know here, andhere.” He touched me on the heart and onthe forehead, and then touched himself thesame way. “I have for myself thoughts at thepresent. Later I shall unfold to you.”

“Why not now?” I asked. “It may do somegood. We may arrive at some decision.”

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He looked at me and said, “My friend John,when the corn is grown, even before it hasripened, while the milk of its mother earth isin him, and the sunshine has not yet begun topaint him with his gold, the husbandman hepull the ear and rub him between his roughhands, and blow away the green chaff, andsay to you, ‘Look! He’s good corn, he willmake a good crop when the time comes.”’

I did not see the application and told himso. For reply he reached over and took myear in his hand and pulled it playfully, ashe used long ago to do at lectures, and said,“The good husbandman tell you so then be-cause he knows, but not till then. But youdo not find the good husbandman dig uphis planted corn to see if he grow. That isfor the children who play at husbandry, andnot for those who take it as of the work oftheir life. See you now, friend John? I havesown my corn, and Nature has her work todo in making it sprout, if he sprout at all,there’s some promise, and I wait till the earbegins to swell.” He broke off, for he evi-

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dently saw that I understood. Then he wenton gravely, “You were always a careful stu-dent, and your case book was ever more fullthan the rest. And I trust that good habit havenot fail. Remember, my friend, that knowl-edge is stronger than memory, and we shouldnot trust the weaker. Even if you have notkept the good practice, let me tell you thatthis case of our dear miss is one that may be,mind, I say may be, of such interest to us andothers that all the rest may not make him kickthe beam, as your people say. Take then goodnote of it. Nothing is too small. I counselyou, put down in record even your doubtsand surmises. Hereafter it may be of interestto you to see how true you guess. We learnfrom failure, not from success!”

When I described Lucy’s symptoms, thesame as before, but infinitely more marked,he looked very grave, but said nothing. Hetook with him a bag in which were manyinstruments and drugs, “the ghastly para-phernalia of our beneficial trade,” as he oncecalled, in one of his lectures, the equipment

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of a professor of the healing craft.

When we were shown in, Mrs. Westenra metus. She was alarmed, but not nearly so muchas I expected to find her. Nature in one ofher beneficient moods has ordained that evendeath has some antidote to its own terrors.Here, in a case where any shock may provefatal, matters are so ordered that, from somecause or other, the things not personal, eventhe terrible change in her daughter to whomshe is so attached, do not seem to reach her. Itis something like the way dame Nature gath-ers round a foreign body an envelope of someinsensitive tissue which can protect from evilthat which it would otherwise harm by con-tact. If this be an ordered selfishness, then weshould pause before we condemn any one forthe vice of egoism, for there may be deeperroot for its causes than we have knowledgeof.

I used my knowledge of this phase of spiri-tual pathology, and set down a rule that sheshould not be present with Lucy, or think

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of her illness more than was absolutely re-quired. She assented readily, so readily that Isaw again the hand of Nature fighting for life.Van Helsing and I were shown up to Lucy’sroom. If I was shocked when I saw her yes-terday, I was horrified when I saw her today.

She was ghastly, chalkily pale. The redseemed to have gone even from her lips andgums, and the bones of her face stood outprominently. Her breathing was painful tosee or hear. Van Helsing’s face grew set asmarble, and his eyebrows converged till theyalmost touched over his nose. Lucy lay mo-tionless, and did not seem to have strengthto speak, so for a while we were all silent.Then Van Helsing beckoned to me, and wewent gently out of the room. The instant wehad closed the door he stepped quickly alongthe passage to the next door, which was open.Then he pulled me quickly in with him andclosed the door. “My god!” he said. “This isdreadful. There is not time to be lost. She willdie for sheer want of blood to keep the heart’saction as it should be. There must be a trans-

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fusion of blood at once. Is it you or me?”

“I am younger and stronger, Professor. Itmust be me.”

“Then get ready at once. I will bring up mybag. I am prepared.”

I went downstairs with him, and as we weregoing there was a knock at the hall door.When we reached the hall, the maid had justopened the door, and Arthur was steppingquickly in. He rushed up to me, saying in aneager whisper,

“Jack, I was so anxious. I read betweenthe lines of your letter, and have been in anagony. The dad was better, so I ran down hereto see for myself. Is not that gentleman Dr.Van Helsing? I am so thankful to you, sir, forcoming.”

When first the Professor’s eye had lit uponhim, he had been angry at his interruption atsuch a time, but now, as he took in his stal-wart proportions and recognized the strongyoung manhood which seemed to emanate

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from him, his eyes gleamed. Without a pausehe said to him as he held out his hand,

“Sir, you have come in time. You are the loverof our dear miss. She is bad, very, very bad.Nay, my child, do not go like that.” For hesuddenly grew pale and sat down in a chairalmost fainting. “You are to help her. You cando more than any that live, and your courageis your best help.”

“What can I do?” asked Arthur hoarsely.“Tell me, and I shall do it. My life is hers,and I would give the last drop of blood in mybody for her.”

The Professor has a strongly humorous side,and I could from old knowledge detect a traceof its origin in his answer.

“My young sir, I do not ask so much as that,not the last!”

“What shall I do?” There was fire in his eyes,and his open nostrils quivered with intent.Van Helsing slapped him on the shoulder.

“Come!” he said. “You are a man, and it is a

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man we want. You are better than me, betterthan my friend John.” Arthur looked bewil-dered, and the Professor went on by explain-ing in a kindly way.

“Young miss is bad, very bad. She wantsblood, and blood she must have or die. Myfriend John and I have consulted, and we areabout to perform what we call transfusion ofblood, to transfer from full veins of one to theempty veins which pine for him. John wasto give his blood, as he is the more youngand strong than me.“–Here Arthur took myhand and wrung it hard in silence.–”But nowyou are here, you are more good than us,old or young, who toil much in the world ofthought. Our nerves are not so calm and ourblood so bright than yours!”

Arthur turned to him and said, “If you onlyknew how gladly I would die for her youwould understand...” He stopped with a sortof choke in his voice.

“Good boy!” said Van Helsing. “In the not-so-far-off you will be happy that you have

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done all for her you love. Come now andbe silent. You shall kiss her once before it isdone, but then you must go, and you mustleave at my sign. Say no word to Madame.You know how it is with her. There must beno shock, any knowledge of this would beone. Come!”

We all went up to Lucy’s room. Arthur bydirection remained outside. Lucy turned herhead and looked at us, but said nothing. Shewas not asleep, but she was simply too weakto make the effort. Her eyes spoke to us, thatwas all.

Van Helsing took some things from his bagand laid them on a little table out of sight.Then he mixed a narcotic, and coming over tothe bed, said cheerily, “Now, little miss, hereis your medicine. Drink it off, like a goodchild. See, I lift you so that to swallow is easy.Yes.” She had made the effort with success.

It astonished me how long the drug took toact. This, in fact, marked the extent of herweakness. The time seemed endless until

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sleep began to flicker in her eyelids. At last,however, the narcotic began to manifest itspotency, and she fell into a deep sleep. Whenthe Professor was satisfied, he called Arthurinto the room, and bade him strip off his coat.Then he added, “You may take that one lit-tle kiss whiles I bring over the table. FriendJohn, help to me!” So neither of us lookedwhilst he bent over her.

Van Helsing, turning to me, said, “He is soyoung and strong, and of blood so pure thatwe need not defibrinate it.”

Then with swiftness, but with absolutemethod, Van Helsing performed the opera-tion. As the transfusion went on, somethinglike life seemed to come back to poor Lucy’scheeks, and through Arthur’s growing pal-lor the joy of his face seemed absolutely toshine. After a bit I began to grow anxious,for the loss of blood was telling on Arthur,strong man as he was. It gave me an ideaof what a terrible strain Lucy’s system musthave undergone that what weakened Arthur

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only partially restored her.

But the Professor’s face was set, and he stoodwatch in hand, and with his eyes fixed nowon the patient and now on Arthur. I couldhear my own heart beat. Presently, he saidin a soft voice, “Do not stir an instant. It isenough. You attend him. I will look to her.”

When all was over, I could see how muchArthur was weakened. I dressed the woundand took his arm to bring him away, whenVan Helsing spoke without turning round,the man seems to have eyes in the back ofhis head, “The brave lover, I think, deserveanother kiss, which he shall have presently.”And as he had now finished his operation, headjusted the pillow to the patient’s head. Ashe did so the narrow black velvet band whichshe seems always to wear round her throat,buckled with an old diamond buckle whichher lover had given her, was dragged a littleup, and showed a red mark on her throat.

Arthur did not notice it, but I could hear thedeep hiss of indrawn breath which is one

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of Van Helsing’s ways of betraying emotion.He said nothing at the moment, but turnedto me, saying, “Now take down our braveyoung lover, give him of the port wine, andlet him lie down a while. He must then gohome and rest, sleep much and eat much, thathe may be recruited of what he has so givento his love. He must not stay here. Hold amoment! I may take it, sir, that you are anx-ious of result. Then bring it with you, thatin all ways the operation is successful. Youhave saved her life this time, and you cango home and rest easy in mind that all thatcan be is. I shall tell her all when she is well.She shall love you none the less for what youhave done. Goodbye.”

When Arthur had gone I went back to theroom. Lucy was sleeping gently, but herbreathing was stronger. I could see the coun-terpane move as her breast heaved. By thebedside sat Van Helsing, looking at her in-tently. The velvet band again covered thered mark. I asked the Professor in a whis-per, “What do you make of that mark on her

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throat?”

“What do you make of it?”

“I have not examined it yet,” I answered, andthen and there proceeded to loose the band.Just over the external jugular vein there weretwo punctures, not large, but not wholesomelooking. There was no sign of disease, butthe edges were white and worn looking, asif by some trituration. It at once occurredto me that that this wound, or whatever itwas, might be the means of that manifest lossof blood. But I abandoned the idea as soonas it formed, for such a thing could not be.The whole bed would have been drenched toa scarlet with the blood which the girl musthave lost to leave such a pallor as she had be-fore the transfusion.

“Well?” said Van Helsing.

“Well,” said I. “I can make nothing of it.”

The Professor stood up. “I must go backto Amsterdam tonight,” he said “There arebooks and things there which I want. You

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must remain here all night, and you must notlet your sight pass from her.”

“Shall I have a nurse?” I asked.

“We are the best nurses, you and I. You keepwatch all night. See that she is well fed, andthat nothing disturbs her. You must not sleepall the night. Later on we can sleep, you andI. I shall be back as soon as possible. And thenwe may begin.”

“May begin?” I said. “What on earth do youmean?”

“We shall see!” he answered, as he hur-ried out. He came back a moment later andput his head inside the door and said with awarning finger held up, “Remember, she isyour charge. If you leave her, and harm be-fall, you shall not sleep easy hereafter!”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY–CONTINUED

8 September.–I sat up all night with Lucy. Theopiate worked itself off towards dusk, and

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she waked naturally. She looked a differentbeing from what she had been before the op-eration. Her spirits even were good, and shewas full of a happy vivacity, but I could seeevidences of the absolute prostration whichshe had undergone. When I told Mrs. West-enra that Dr. Van Helsing had directed thatI should sit up with her, she almost pooh-poohed the idea, pointing out her daughter’srenewed strength and excellent spirits. I wasfirm, however, and made preparations for mylong vigil. When her maid had prepared herfor the night I came in, having in the mean-time had supper, and took a seat by the bed-side.

She did not in any way make objection, butlooked at me gratefully whenever I caughther eye. After a long spell she seemed sink-ing off to sleep, but with an effort seemed topull herself together and shook it off. It wasapparent that she did not want to sleep, so Itackled the subject at once.

“You do not want to sleep?”

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“No. I am afraid.”“Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boonwe all crave for.”“Ah, not if you were like me, if sleep was toyou a presage of horror!”“A presage of horror! What on earth do youmean?”“I don’t know. Oh, I don’t know. Andthat is what is so terrible. All this weaknesscomes to me in sleep, until I dread the verythought.”“But, my dear girl, you may sleep tonight. Iam here watching you, and I can promise thatnothing will happen.”“Ah, I can trust you!” she said.I seized the opportunity, and said, “I promisethat if I see any evidence of bad dreams I willwake you at once.”“You will? Oh, will you really? How goodyou are to me. Then I will sleep!” And almostat the word she gave a deep sigh of relief, andsank back, asleep.

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All night long I watched by her. She neverstirred, but slept on and on in a deep, tran-quil, life-giving, health-giving sleep. Her lipswere slightly parted, and her breast rose andfell with the regularity of a pendulum. Therewas a smile on her face, and it was evidentthat no bad dreams had come to disturb herpeace of mind.

In the early morning her maid came, and I lefther in her care and took myself back home,for I was anxious about many things. I senta short wire to Van Helsing and to Arthur,telling them of the excellent result of the op-eration. My own work, with its manifold ar-rears, took me all day to clear off. It wasdark when I was able to inquire about myzoophagous patient. The report was good.He had been quite quiet for the past day andnight. A telegram came from Van Helsing atAmsterdam whilst I was at dinner, suggest-ing that I should be at Hillingham tonight, asit might be well to be at hand, and stating thathe was leaving by the night mail and wouldjoin me early in the morning.

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9 September.–I was pretty tired and worn outwhen I got to Hillingham. For two nights Ihad hardly had a wink of sleep, and my brainwas beginning to feel that numbness whichmarks cerebral exhaustion. Lucy was up andin cheerful spirits. When she shook handswith me she looked sharply in my face andsaid,

“No sitting up tonight for you. You are wornout. I am quite well again. Indeed, I am, andif there is to be any sitting up, it is I who willsit up with you.”

I would not argue the point, but went andhad my supper. Lucy came with me, and, en-livened by her charming presence, I made anexcellent meal, and had a couple of glasses ofthe more than excellent port. Then Lucy tookme upstairs, and showed me a room next herown, where a cozy fire was burning.

“Now,” she said. “You must stay here. I shallleave this door open and my door too. Youcan lie on the sofa for I know that nothingwould induce any of you doctors to go to bed

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whilst there is a patient above the horizon. IfI want anything I shall call out, and you cancome to me at once.”

I could not but acquiesce, for I was dog tired,and could not have sat up had I tried. So,on her renewing her promise to call me if sheshould want anything, I lay on the sofa, andforgot all about everything.

LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY

9 September.–I feel so happy tonight. I havebeen so miserably weak, that to be able tothink and move about is like feeling sunshineafter a long spell of east wind out of a steelsky. Somehow Arthur feels very, very closeto me. I seem to feel his presence warmabout me. I suppose it is that sickness andweakness are selfish things and turn our in-ner eyes and sympathy on ourselves, whilsthealth and strength give love rein, and inthought and feeling he can wander where hewills. I know where my thoughts are. If only

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Arthur knew! My dear, my dear, your earsmust tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking.Oh, the blissful rest of last night! How I slept,with that dear, good Dr. Seward watchingme. And tonight I shall not fear to sleep, sincehe is close at hand and within call. Thank ev-erybody for being so good to me. Thank God!Goodnight Arthur.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

10 September.–I was conscious of the Profes-sor’s hand on my head, and started awake allin a second. That is one of the things that welearn in an asylum, at any rate.“And how is our patient?”“Well, when I left her, or rather when she leftme,” I answered.“Come, let us see,” he said. And together wewent into the room.The blind was down, and I went over to raiseit gently, whilst Van Helsing stepped, withhis soft, cat-like tread, over to the bed.

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As I raised the blind, and the morning sun-light flooded the room, I heard the Profes-sor’s low hiss of inspiration, and knowing itsrarity, a deadly fear shot through my heart.As I passed over he moved back, and hisexclamation of horror, “Gott in Himmel!”needed no enforcement from his agonizedface. He raised his hand and pointed to thebed, and his iron face was drawn and ashenwhite. I felt my knees begin to tremble.There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, laypoor Lucy, more horribly white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were white,and the gums seemed to have shrunken backfrom the teeth, as we sometimes see in acorpse after a prolonged illness.Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger,but the instinct of his life and all the longyears of habit stood to him, and he put itdown again softly.“Quick!” he said. “Bring the brandy.”I flew to the dining room, and returned withthe decanter. He wetted the poor white lips

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with it, and together we rubbed palm andwrist and heart. He felt her heart, and aftera few moments of agonizing suspense said,

“It is not too late. It beats, though but fee-bly. All our work is undone. We must beginagain. There is no young Arthur here now. Ihave to call on you yourself this time, friendJohn.” As he spoke, he was dipping into hisbag, and producing the instruments of trans-fusion. I had taken off my coat and rolled upmy shirt sleeve. There was no possibility ofan opiate just at present, and no need of one;and so, without a moment’s delay, we beganthe operation.

After a time, it did not seem a short time ei-ther, for the draining away of one’s blood, nomatter how willingly it be given, is a terriblefeeling, Van Helsing held up a warning fin-ger. “Do not stir,” he said. “But I fear thatwith growing strength she may wake, andthat would make danger, oh, so much dan-ger. But I shall precaution take. I shall givehypodermic injection of morphia.” He pro-

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ceeded then, swiftly and deftly, to carry outhis intent.The effect on Lucy was not bad, for thefaint seemed to merge subtly into the narcoticsleep. It was with a feeling of personal pridethat I could see a faint tinge of colour stealback into the pallid cheeks and lips. No manknows, till he experiences it, what it is to feelhis own lifeblood drawn away into the veinsof the woman he loves.The Professor watched me critically. “Thatwill do,” he said. “Already?” I remonstrated.“You took a great deal more from Art.” Towhich he smiled a sad sort of smile as hereplied,“He is her lover, her fiance. You have work,much work to do for her and for others, andthe present will suffice.”When we stopped the operation, he attendedto Lucy, whilst I applied digital pressure tomy own incision. I laid down, while I waitedhis leisure to attend to me, for I felt faint and alittle sick. By and by he bound up my wound,

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and sent me downstairs to get a glass of winefor myself. As I was leaving the room, hecame after me, and half whispered.

“Mind, nothing must be said of this. If ouryoung lover should turn up unexpected, asbefore, no word to him. It would at oncefrighten him and enjealous him, too. Theremust be none. So!”

When I came back he looked at me carefully,and then said, “You are not much the worse.Go into the room, and lie on your sofa, andrest awhile, then have much breakfast andcome here to me.”

I followed out his orders, for I knew howright and wise they were. I had done mypart, and now my next duty was to keepup my strength. I felt very weak, and inthe weakness lost something of the amaze-ment at what had occurred. I fell asleep onthe sofa, however, wondering over and overagain how Lucy had made such a retrogrademovement, and how she could have beendrained of so much blood with no sign any

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where to show for it. I think I must have con-tinued my wonder in my dreams, for, sleep-ing and waking my thoughts always cameback to the little punctures in her throat andthe ragged, exhausted appearance of theiredges, tiny though they were.

Lucy slept well into the day, and when shewoke she was fairly well and strong, thoughnot nearly so much so as the day before.When Van Helsing had seen her, he went outfor a walk, leaving me in charge, with strictinjunctions that I was not to leave her for amoment. I could hear his voice in the hall,asking the way to the nearest telegraph office.

Lucy chatted with me freely, and seemedquite unconscious that anything had hap-pened. I tried to keep her amused and inter-ested. When her mother came up to see her,she did not seem to notice any change what-ever, but said to me gratefully,

“We owe you so much, Dr. Seward, for allyou have done, but you really must now takecare not to overwork yourself. You are look-

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ing pale yourself. You want a wife to nurseand look after you a bit, that you do!” As shespoke, Lucy turned crimson, though it wasonly momentarily, for her poor wasted veinscould not stand for long an unwonted drainto the head. The reaction came in excessivepallor as she turned imploring eyes on me.I smiled and nodded, and laid my finger onmy lips. With a sigh, she sank back amid herpillows.

Van Helsing returned in a couple of hours,and presently said to me: “Now you gohome, and eat much and drink enough.Make yourself strong. I stay here tonight, andI shall sit up with little miss myself. You and Imust watch the case, and we must have noneother to know. I have grave reasons. No, donot ask me. Think what you will. Do notfear to think even the most not-improbable.Goodnight.”

In the hall two of the maids came to me,and asked if they or either of them mightnot sit up with Miss Lucy. They implored

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me to let them, and when I said it was Dr.Van Helsing’s wish that either he or I shouldsit up, they asked me quite piteously to in-tercede with the ‘foreign gentleman’. I wasmuch touched by their kindness. Perhaps itis because I am weak at present, and per-haps because it was on Lucy’s account, thattheir devotion was manifested. For over andover again have I seen similar instances ofwoman’s kindness. I got back here in timefor a late dinner, went my rounds, all well,and set this down whilst waiting for sleep. Itis coming.

11 September.–This afternoon I went over toHillingham. Found Van Helsing in excellentspirits, and Lucy much better. Shortly afterI had arrived, a big parcel from abroad camefor the Professor. He opened it with much im-pressment, assumed, of course, and showed agreat bundle of white flowers.

“These are for you, Miss Lucy,” he said.

“For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!”

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“Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with.These are medicines.” Here Lucy made a wryface. “Nay, but they are not to take in a de-coction or in nauseous form, so you need notsnub that so charming nose, or I shall pointout to my friend Arthur what woes he mayhave to endure in seeing so much beauty thathe so loves so much distort. Aha, my prettymiss, that bring the so nice nose all straightagain. This is medicinal, but you do not knowhow. I put him in your window, I make prettywreath, and hang him round your neck, soyou sleep well. Oh, yes! They, like the lotusflower, make your trouble forgotten. It smellso like the waters of Lethe, and of that foun-tain of youth that the Conquistadores soughtfor in the Floridas, and find him all too late.”

Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had beenexamining the flowers and smelling them.Now she threw them down saying, with halflaughter, and half disgust,

“Oh, Professor, I believe you are only puttingup a joke on me. Why, these flowers are only

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common garlic.”

To my surprise, Van Helsing rose up and saidwith all his sternness, his iron jaw set and hisbushy eyebrows meeting,

“No trifling with me! I never jest! There isgrim purpose in what I do, and I warn youthat you do not thwart me. Take care, forthe sake of others if not for your own.” Thenseeing poor Lucy scared, as she might wellbe, he went on more gently, “Oh, little miss,my dear, do not fear me. I only do for yourgood, but there is much virtue to you in thoseso common flowers. See, I place them my-self in your room. I make myself the wreaththat you are to wear. But hush! No telling toothers that make so inquisitive questions. Wemust obey, and silence is a part of obedience,and obedience is to bring you strong and wellinto loving arms that wait for you. Now sitstill a while. Come with me, friend John, andyou shall help me deck the room with my gar-lic, which is all the way from Haarlem, wheremy friend Vanderpool raise herb in his glass

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houses all the year. I had to telegraph yester-day, or they would not have been here.”

We went into the room, taking the flowerswith us. The Professor’s actions were cer-tainly odd and not to be found in any phar-macopeia that I ever heard of. First he fas-tened up the windows and latched them se-curely. Next, taking a handful of the flowers,he rubbed them all over the sashes, as thoughto ensure that every whiff of air that mightget in would be laden with the garlic smell.Then with the wisp he rubbed all over thejamb of the door, above, below, and at eachside, and round the fireplace in the same way.It all seemed grotesque to me, and presentlyI said, “Well, Professor, I know you alwayshave a reason for what you do, but this cer-tainly puzzles me. It is well we have no scep-tic here, or he would say that you were work-ing some spell to keep out an evil spirit.”

“Perhaps I am!” he answered quietly as hebegan to make the wreath which Lucy was towear round her neck.

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We then waited whilst Lucy made her toiletfor the night, and when she was in bed hecame and himself fixed the wreath of garlicround her neck. The last words he said to herwere,“Take care you do not disturb it, and even ifthe room feel close, do not tonight open thewindow or the door.”“I promise,” said Lucy. “And thank you botha thousand times for all your kindness to me!Oh, what have I done to be blessed with suchfriends?”As we left the house in my fly, which waswaiting, Van Helsing said, “Tonight I cansleep in peace, and sleep I want, two nightsof travel, much reading in the day between,and much anxiety on the day to follow, anda night to sit up, without to wink. Tomorrowin the morning early you call for me, and wecome together to see our pretty miss, so muchmore strong for my ‘spell’ which I have work.Ho, ho!”He seemed so confident that I, remembering

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my own confidence two nights before andwith the baneful result, felt awe and vagueterror. It must have been my weakness thatmade me hesitate to tell it to my friend, but Ifelt it all the more, like unshed tears.

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LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY

12 September.–How good they all are to me.I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I won-der why he was so anxious about these flow-ers. He positively frightened me, he was sofierce. And yet he must have been right, forI feel comfort from them already. Somehow,I do not dread being alone tonight, and I cango to sleep without fear. I shall not mind anyflapping outside the window. Oh, the terri-ble struggle that I have had against sleep so

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often of late, the pain of sleeplessness, or thepain of the fear of sleep, and with such un-known horrors as it has for me! How blessedare some people, whose lives have no fears,no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing thatcomes nightly, and brings nothing but sweetdreams. Well, here I am tonight, hopingfor sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play,with ‘virgin crants and maiden strewments.’I never liked garlic before, but tonight it isdelightful! There is peace in its smell. I feelsleep coming already. Goodnight, everybody.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

13 September.–Called at the Berkeley andfound Van Helsing, as usual, up to time. Thecarriage ordered from the hotel was waiting.The Professor took his bag, which he alwaysbrings with him now.

Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and Iarrived at Hillingham at eight o’clock. It wasa lovely morning. The bright sunshine and

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all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemedlike the completion of nature’s annual work.The leaves were turning to all kinds of beau-tiful colours, but had not yet begun to dropfrom the trees. When we entered we met Mrs.Westenra coming out of the morning room.She is always an early riser. She greeted uswarmly and said,“You will be glad to know that Lucy is bet-ter. The dear child is still asleep. I lookedinto her room and saw her, but did not goin, lest I should disturb her.” The Professorsmiled, and looked quite jubilant. He rubbedhis hands together, and said, “Aha! I thoughtI had diagnosed the case. My treatment isworking.”To which she replied, “You must not take allthe credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy’s state thismorning is due in part to me.”“How do you mean, ma’am?” asked the Pro-fessor.“Well, I was anxious about the dear childin the night, and went into her room. She

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was sleeping soundly, so soundly that evenmy coming did not wake her. But the roomwas awfully stuffy. There were a lot of thosehorrible, strong-smelling flowers about ev-erywhere, and she had actually a bunch ofthem round her neck. I feared that the heavyodour would be too much for the dear childin her weak state, so I took them all away andopened a bit of the window to let in a littlefresh air. You will be pleased with her, I amsure.”

She moved off into her boudoir, where sheusually breakfasted early. As she had spo-ken, I watched the Professor’s face, and sawit turn ashen gray. He had been able to re-tain his self-command whilst the poor ladywas present, for he knew her state and howmischievous a shock would be. He actuallysmiled on her as he held open the door forher to pass into her room. But the instant shehad disappeared he pulled me, suddenly andforcibly, into the dining room and closed thedoor.

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Then, for the first time in my life, I saw VanHelsing break down. He raised his handsover his head in a sort of mute despair, andthen beat his palms together in a helplessway. Finally he sat down on a chair, andputting his hands before his face, began tosob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to comefrom the very racking of his heart.

Then he raised his arms again, as though ap-pealing to the whole universe. “God! God!God!” he said. “What have we done, whathas this poor thing done, that we are so sorebeset? Is there fate amongst us still, senddown from the pagan world of old, that suchthings must be, and in such way? This poormother, all unknowing, and all for the best asshe think, does such thing as lose her daugh-ter body and soul, and we must not tell her,we must not even warn her, or she die, thenboth die. Oh, how we are beset! How are allthe powers of the devils against us!”

Suddenly he jumped to his feet. “Come,” hesaid, “come, we must see and act. Devils or

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no devils, or all the devils at once, it mattersnot. We must fight him all the same.” Hewent to the hall door for his bag, and togetherwe went up to Lucy’s room.

Once again I drew up the blind, whilst VanHelsing went towards the bed. This time hedid not start as he looked on the poor facewith the same awful, waxen pallor as before.He wore a look of stern sadness and infinitepity.

“As I expected,” he murmured, with thathissing inspiration of his which meant somuch. Without a word he went and lockedthe door, and then began to set out on the lit-tle table the instruments for yet another oper-ation of transfusion of blood. I had long agorecognized the necessity, and begun to takeoff my coat, but he stopped me with a warn-ing hand. “No!” he said. “Today you mustoperate. I shall provide. You are weakenedalready.” As he spoke he took off his coat androlled up his shirtsleeve.

Again the operation. Again the narcotic.

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Again some return of colour to the ashycheeks, and the regular breathing of healthysleep. This time I watched whilst Van Hels-ing recruited himself and rested.

Presently he took an opportunity of tellingMrs. Westenra that she must not removeanything from Lucy’s room without consult-ing him. That the flowers were of medicinalvalue, and that the breathing of their odourwas a part of the system of cure. Then he tookover the care of the case himself, saying thathe would watch this night and the next, andwould send me word when to come.

After another hour Lucy waked from hersleep, fresh and bright and seemingly notmuch the worse for her terrible ordeal.

What does it all mean? I am beginning towonder if my long habit of life amongst theinsane is beginning to tell upon my ownbrain.

LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY

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17 September.–Four days and nights of peace. I am get-ting so strong again that I hardly know myself. It is asif I had passed through some long nightmare, and hadjust awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel thefresh air of the morning around me. I have a dim halfremembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fear-ing, darkness in which there was not even the pain ofhope to make present distress more poignant. And thenlong spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as adiver coming up through a great press of water. Since,however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this baddreaming seems to have passed away. The noises thatused to frighten me out of my wits, the flapping againstthe windows, the distant voices which seemed so close tome, the harsh sounds that came from I know not whereand commanded me to do I know not what, have allceased. I go to bed now without any fear of sleep. I do noteven try to keep awake. I have grown quite fond of thegarlic, and a boxful arrives for me every day from Haar-lem. Tonight Dr. Van Helsing is going away, as he has tobe for a day in Amsterdam. But I need not be watched. Iam well enough to be left alone.

Thank God for Mother’s sake, and dear Arthur’s, andfor all our friends who have been so kind! I shall not even

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feel the change, for last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in hischair a lot of the time. I found him asleep twice when Iawoke. But I did not fear to go to sleep again, althoughthe boughs or bats or something flapped almost angrilyagainst the window panes.

THE PALL MALL GAZETTE 18 September.THE ESCAPED WOLF PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF

OUR INTERVIEWERINTERVIEW WITH THE KEEPER IN THE ZOOLOGI-

CAL GARDENSAfter many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and

perpetually using the words ‘PALL MALL GAZETTE’ as asort of talisman, I managed to find the keeper of the sec-tion of the Zoological Gardens in which the wolf depart-ment is included. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the cot-tages in the enclosure behind the elephant house, and wasjust sitting down to his tea when I found him. Thomasand his wife are hospitable folk, elderly, and without chil-dren, and if the specimen I enjoyed of their hospitality beof the average kind, their lives must be pretty comfort-able. The keeper would not enter on what he called busi-ness until the supper was over, and we were all satisfied.Then when the table was cleared, and he had lit his pipe,

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he said,“Now, Sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want.

You’ll excoose me refoosin’ to talk of perfeshunal subjuctsafore meals. I gives the wolves and the jackals and thehyenas in all our section their tea afore I begins to arskthem questions.”

“How do you mean, ask them questions?” I queried,wishful to get him into a talkative humor.

“‘Ittin’ of them over the ‘ead with a pole is one way.Scratchin’ of their ears in another, when gents as is flushwants a bit of a show-orf to their gals. I don’t so muchmind the fust, the ‘ittin of the pole part afore I chucksin their dinner, but I waits till they’ve ‘ad their sherryand kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the earscratchin’. Mind you,” he added philosophically, “there’sa deal of the same nature in us as in them theer animiles.Here’s you a-comin’ and arskin’ of me questions aboutmy business, and I that grump-like that only for yourbloomin’ ‘arf-quid I’d ‘a’ seen you blowed fust ‘fore I’danswer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic like ifI’d like you to arsk the Superintendent if you might arskme questions. Without offence did I tell yer to go to ‘ell?”

“You did.”

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“An’ when you said you’d report me for usin’ obscenelanguage that was ‘ittin’ me over the ‘ead. But the ‘arf-quid made that all right. I weren’t a-goin’ to fight, so Iwaited for the food, and did with my ‘owl as the wolvesand lions and tigers does. But, lor’ love yer ‘art, now thatthe old ‘ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me,an’ rinsed me out with her bloomin’ old teapot, and I’velit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you’re worth, andwon’t even get a growl out of me. Drive along with yourquestions. I know what yer a-comin’ at, that ‘ere escapedwolf.”

“Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Justtell me how it happened, and when I know the facts I’llget you to say what you consider was the cause of it, andhow you think the whole affair will end.”

“All right, guv’nor. This ‘ere is about the ‘ole story.That ‘ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of threegray ones that came from Norway to Jamrach’s, whichwe bought off him four years ago. He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave no trouble to talk of. I’mmore surprised at ‘im for wantin’ to get out nor any otheranimile in the place. But, there, you can’t trust wolves nomore nor women.”

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“Don’t you mind him, Sir!” broke in Mrs. Tom, with acheery laugh. “‘E’s got mindin’ the animiles so long thatblest if he ain’t like a old wolf ‘isself! But there ain’t no‘arm in ‘im.”

“Well, Sir, it was about two hours after feedin’ yester-day when I first hear my disturbance. I was makin’ upa litter in the monkey house for a young puma which isill. But when I heard the yelpin’ and ‘owlin’ I kem awaystraight. There was Bersicker a-tearin’ like a mad thing atthe bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn’t muchpeople about that day, and close at hand was only oneman, a tall, thin chap, with a ‘ook nose and a pointedbeard, with a few white hairs runnin’ through it. He hada ‘ard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a sort of misliketo him, for it seemed as if it was ‘im as they was hirritatedat. He ‘ad white kid gloves on ‘is ‘ands, and he pointedout the animiles to me and says, ‘Keeper, these wolvesseem upset at something.’

“‘Maybe it’s you,’ says I, for I did not like the airs ashe give ‘isself. He didn’t get angry, as I ‘oped he would,but he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth fullof white, sharp teeth. ‘Oh no, they wouldn’t like me,’ ‘esays.

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“‘Ow yes, they would,’ says I, a-imitatin’ of him. ‘Theyalways like a bone or two to clean their teeth on about teatime, which you ‘as a bagful.’

“Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animiles seeus a-talkin’ they lay down, and when I went over toBersicker he let me stroke his ears same as ever. Thatthere man kem over, and blessed but if he didn’t put inhis hand and stroke the old wolf’s ears too!

“‘Tyke care,’ says I. ‘Bersicker is quick.’“‘Never mind,’ he says. I’m used to ‘em!’“‘Are you in the business yourself?’ I says, tyking off

my ‘at, for a man what trades in wolves, anceterer, is agood friend to keepers.

“‘Nom,’ says he, ‘not exactly in the business, but I ‘avemade pets of several.’ And with that he lifts his ‘at asperlite as a lord, and walks away. Old Bersicker kep’ a-lookin’ arter ‘im till ‘e was out of sight, and then wentand lay down in a corner and wouldn’t come hout the‘ole hevening. Well, larst night, so soon as the moon washup, the wolves here all began a-’owling. There warn’tnothing for them to ‘owl at. There warn’t no one near,except some one that was evidently a-callin’ a dog some-wheres out back of the gardings in the Park road. Once

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or twice I went out to see that all was right, and it was,and then the ‘owling stopped. Just before twelve o’clockI just took a look round afore turnin’ in, an’, bust me, butwhen I kem opposite to old Bersicker’s cage I see the railsbroken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that’sall I know for certing.”

“Did any one else see anything?”“One of our gard’ners was a-comin’ ‘ome about that

time from a ‘armony, when he sees a big gray dog comin’out through the garding ‘edges. At least, so he says, butI don’t give much for it myself, for if he did ‘e never saida word about it to his missis when ‘e got ‘ome, and itwas only after the escape of the wolf was made known,and we had been up all night a-huntin’ of the Park forBersicker, that he remembered seein’ anything. My ownbelief was that the ‘armony ‘ad got into his ‘ead.”

“Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for theescape of the wolf?”

“Well, Sir,” he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty,“I think I can, but I don’t know as ‘ow you’d be satisfiedwith the theory.”

“Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the an-imals from experience, can’t hazard a good guess at any

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rate, who is even to try?”“Well then, Sir, I accounts for it this way. It seems to

me that ‘ere wolf escaped–simply because he wanted toget out.”

From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wifelaughed at the joke I could see that it had done service be-fore, and that the whole explanation was simply an elab-orate sell. I couldn’t cope in badinage with the worthyThomas, but I thought I knew a surer way to his heart,so I said, “Now, Mr. Bilder, we’ll consider that first half-sovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waitingto be claimed when you’ve told me what you think willhappen.”

“Right y’are, Sir,” he said briskly. “Ye’ll excoose me, Iknow, for a-chaffin’ of ye, but the old woman here winkedat me, which was as much as telling me to go on.”

“Well, I never!” said the old lady.“My opinion is this: that ‘ere wolf is a’idin’ of, some-

wheres. The gard’ner wot didn’t remember said he wasa-gallopin’ northward faster than a horse could go, butI don’t believe him, for, yer see, Sir, wolves don’t gal-lop no more nor dogs does, they not bein’ built that way.Wolves is fine things in a storybook, and I dessay when

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they gets in packs and does be chivyin’ somethin’ that’smore afeared than they is they can make a devil of a noiseand chop it up, whatever it is. But, Lor’ bless you, in reallife a wolf is only a low creature, not half so clever or boldas a good dog, and not half a quarter so much fight in ‘im.This one ain’t been used to fightin’ or even to providin’for hisself, and more like he’s somewhere round the Parka’hidin’ an’ a’shiverin’ of, and if he thinks at all, won-derin’ where he is to get his breakfast from. Or maybehe’s got down some area and is in a coal cellar. My eye,won’t some cook get a rum start when she sees his greeneyes a-shinin’ at her out of the dark! If he can’t get foodhe’s bound to look for it, and mayhap he may chance tolight on a butcher’s shop in time. If he doesn’t, and somenursemaid goes out walkin’ or orf with a soldier, leavin’of the hinfant in the perambulator–well, then I shouldn’tbe surprised if the census is one babby the less. That’sall.”

I was handing him the half-sovereign, when somethingcame bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder’sface doubled its natural length with surprise.

“God bless me!” he said. “If there ain’t old Bersickercome back by ‘isself!”

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He went to the door and opened it, a most unnecessaryproceeding it seemed to me. I have always thought that awild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle ofpronounced durability is between us. A personal experi-ence has intensified rather than diminished that idea.

After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for nei-ther Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolfthan I should of a dog. The animal itself was a peace-ful and well-behaved as that father of all picture-wolves,Red Riding Hood’s quondam friend, whilst moving herconfidence in masquerade.

The whole scene was a unutterable mixture of comedyand pathos. The wicked wolf that for a half a day had par-alyzed London and set all the children in town shiveringin their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, andwas received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigalson. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tendersolicitude, and when he had finished with his penitentsaid,

“There, I knew the poor old chap would get into somekind of trouble. Didn’t I say it all along? Here’s his headall cut and full of broken glass. ‘E’s been a-gettin’ oversome bloomin’ wall or other. It’s a shyme that people are

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allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This ‘ere’swhat comes of it. Come along, Bersicker.”

He took the wolf and locked him up in a cage, with apiece of meat that satisfied, in quantity at any rate, theelementary conditions of the fatted calf, and went off toreport.

I came off too, to report the only exclusive informationthat is given today regarding the strange escapade at theZoo.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

17 September.–I was engaged after dinner in my studyposting up my books, which, through press of other workand the many visits to Lucy, had fallen sadly into arrear.Suddenly the door was burst open, and in rushed my pa-tient, with his face distorted with passion. I was thunder-struck, for such a thing as a patient getting of his own ac-cord into the Superintendent’s study is almost unknown.

Without an instant’s notice he made straight at me. Hehad a dinner knife in his hand, and as I saw he was dan-gerous, I tried to keep the table between us. He was tooquick and too strong for me, however, for before I could

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get my balance he had struck at me and cut my left wristrather severely.

Before he could strike again, however, I got in my righthand and he was sprawling on his back on the floor. Mywrist bled freely, and quite a little pool trickled on to thecarpet. I saw that my friend was not intent on furthereffort, and occupied myself binding up my wrist, keep-ing a wary eye on the prostrate figure all the time. Whenthe attendants rushed in, and we turned our attention tohim, his employment positively sickened me. He was ly-ing on his belly on the floor licking up, like a dog, theblood which had fallen from my wounded wrist. Hewas easily secured, and to my surprise, went with the at-tendants quite placidly, simply repeating over and overagain, “The blood is the life! The blood is the life!”

I cannot afford to lose blood just at present. I have losttoo much of late for my physical good, and then the pro-longed strain of Lucy’s illness and its horrible phases istelling on me. I am over excited and weary, and I needrest, rest, rest. Happily Van Helsing has not summonedme, so I need not forego my sleep. Tonight I could notwell do without it.

TELEGRAM, VAN HELSING, ANTWERP, TO SEWARD,

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CARFAX

(Sent to Carfax, Sussex, as no county given, deliveredlate by twenty-two hours.)

17 September.–Do not fail to be at Hilllingham tonight.If not watching all the time, frequently visit and see thatflowers are as placed, very important, do not fail. Shallbe with you as soon as possible after arrival.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

18 September.–Just off train to London. The arrival ofVan Helsing’s telegram filled me with dismay. A wholenight lost, and I know by bitter experience what may hap-pen in a night. Of course it is possible that all may be well,but what may have happened? Surely there is some hor-rible doom hanging over us that every possible accidentshould thwart us in all we try to do. I shall take this cylin-der with me, and then I can complete my entry on Lucy’sphonograph.

MEMORANDUM LEFT BY LUCY WESTENRA

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17 September, Night.–I write this and leave it to beseen, so that no one may by any chance get into troublethrough me. This is an exact record of what took placetonight. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barelystrength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers wereplaced as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep.

I was waked by the flapping at the window, whichhad begun after that sleep-walking on the cliff at Whitbywhen Mina saved me, and which now I know so well.I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr. Seward was inthe next room, as Dr. Van Helsing said he would be, sothat I might have called him. I tried to sleep, but I couldnot. Then there came to me the old fear of sleep, and Idetermined to keep awake. Perversely sleep would tryto come then when I did not want it. So, as I feared tobe alone, I opened my door and called out, “Is there any-body there?” There was no answer. I was afraid to wakemother, and so closed my door again. Then outside in theshrubbery I heard a sort of howl like a dog’s, but morefierce and deeper. I went to the window and looked out,but could see nothing, except a big bat, which had evi-dently been buffeting its wings against the window. So Iwent back to bed again, but determined not to go to sleep.

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Presently the door opened, and mother looked in. Seeingby my moving that I was not asleep, she came in and satby me. She said to me even more sweetly and softly thanher wont,

“I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to seethat you were all right.”

I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and askedher to come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed,and lay down beside me. She did not take off her dressinggown, for she said she would only stay a while and thengo back to her own bed. As she lay there in my arms, andI in hers the flapping and buffeting came to the windowagain. She was startled and a little frightened, and criedout, “What is that?”

I tried to pacify her, and at last succeeded, and she layquiet. But I could hear her poor dear heart still beatingterribly. After a while there was the howl again out inthe shrubbery, and shortly after there was a crash at thewindow, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor.The window blind blew back with the wind that rushedin, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was thehead of a great, gaunt gray wolf.

Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sit-

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ting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that wouldhelp her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreathof flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearinground my neck, and tore it away from me. For a secondor two she sat up, pointing at the wolf, and there was astrange and horrible gurgling in her throat. Then she fellover, as if struck with lightning, and her head hit my fore-head and made me dizzy for a moment or two.

The room and all round seemed to spin round. I keptmy eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his headback, and a whole myriad of little specks seems to comeblowing in through the broken window, and wheelingand circling round like the pillar of dust that travellersdescribe when there is a simoon in the desert. I tried tostir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear Mother’spoor body, which seemed to grow cold already, for herdear heart had ceased to beat, weighed me down, and Iremembered no more for a while.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till Irecovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a pass-ing bell was tolling. The dogs all round the neighbour-hood were howling, and in our shrubbery, seemingly justoutside, a nightingale was singing. I was dazed andstupid with pain and terror and weakness, but the sound

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of the nightingale seemed like the voice of my deadmother come back to comfort me. The sounds seemed tohave awakened the maids, too, for I could hear their barefeet pattering outside my door. I called to them, and theycame in, and when they saw what had happened, andwhat it was that lay over me on the bed, they screamedout. The wind rushed in through the broken window, andthe door slammed to. They lifted off the body of my dearmother, and laid her, covered up with a sheet, on the bedafter I had got up. They were all so frightened and ner-vous that I directed them to go to the dining room andeach have a glass of wine. The door flew open for aninstant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and thenwent in a body to the dining room, and I laid what flow-ers I had on my dear mother’s breast. When they werethere I remembered what Dr. Van Helsing had told me,but I didn’t like to remove them, and besides, I wouldhave some of the servants to sit up with me now. I wassurprised that the maids did not come back. I called them,but got no answer, so I went to the dining room to lookfor them.

My heart sank when I saw what had happened. Theyall four lay helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. Thedecanter of sherry was on the table half full, but there

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was a queer, acrid smell about. I was suspicious, and ex-amined the decanter. It smelt of laudanum, and lookingon the sideboard, I found that the bottle which Mother’sdoctor uses for her–oh! did use–was empty. What am I todo? What am I to do? I am back in the room with Mother.I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleepingservants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with thedead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of thewolf through the broken window.

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in thedraught from the window, and the lights burn blue anddim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm thisnight! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where theyshall find it when they come to lay me out. My dearmother gone! It is time that I go too. Goodbye, dearArthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you,dear, and God help me!

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

18 September.–I drove at once to Hillingham and ar-rived early. Keeping my cab at the gate, I went up the av-enue alone. I knocked gently and rang as quietly as possi-ble, for I feared to disturb Lucy or her mother, and hopedto only bring a servant to the door. After a while, findingno response, I knocked and rang again, still no answer.I cursed the laziness of the servants that they should lieabed at such an hour, for it was now ten o’clock, and sorang and knocked again, but more impatiently, but stillwithout response. Hitherto I had blamed only the ser-vants, but now a terrible fear began to assail me. Was this

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desolation but another link in the chain of doom whichseemed drawing tight round us? Was it indeed a houseof death to which I had come, too late? I know that min-utes, even seconds of delay, might mean hours of dangerto Lucy, if she had had again one of those frightful re-lapses, and I went round the house to try if I could findby chance an entry anywhere.

I could find no means of ingress. Every window anddoor was fastened and locked, and I returned baffled tothe porch. As I did so, I heard the rapid pit-pat of a swiftlydriven horse’s feet. They stopped at the gate, and a fewseconds later I met Van Helsing running up the avenue.When he saw me, he gasped out, “Then it was you, andjust arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you notget my telegram?”

I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that Ihad only got his telegram early in the morning, and hadnot a minute in coming here, and that I could not makeany one in the house hear me. He paused and raised hishat as he said solemnly, “Then I fear we are too late. God’swill be done!”

With his usual recuperative energy, he went on,“Come. If there be no way open to get in, we must make

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one. Time is all in all to us now.”

We went round to the back of the house, where therewas a kitchen window. The Professor took a small surgi-cal saw from his case, and handing it to me, pointed to theiron bars which guarded the window. I attacked them atonce and had very soon cut through three of them. Thenwith a long, thin knife we pushed back the fastening ofthe sashes and opened the window. I helped the Profes-sor in, and followed him. There was no one in the kitchenor in the servants’ rooms, which were close at hand. Wetried all the rooms as we went along, and in the din-ing room, dimly lit by rays of light through the shutters,found four servant women lying on the floor. There wasno need to think them dead, for their stertorous breath-ing and the acrid smell of laudanum in the room left nodoubt as to their condition.

Van Helsing and I looked at each other, and as wemoved away he said, “We can attend to them later.” Thenwe ascended to Lucy’s room. For an instant or two wepaused at the door to listen, but there was no sound thatwe could hear. With white faces and trembling hands, weopened the door gently, and entered the room.

How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay

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two women, Lucy and her mother. The latter lay farthestin, and she was covered with a white sheet, the edge ofwhich had been blown back by the drought through thebroken window, showing the drawn, white, face, with alook of terror fixed upon it. By her side lay Lucy, withface white and still more drawn. The flowers which hadbeen round her neck we found upon her mother’s bosom,and her throat was bare, showing the two little woundswhich we had noticed before, but looking horribly whiteand mangled. Without a word the Professor bent over thebed, his head almost touching poor Lucy’s breast. Thenhe gave a quick turn of his head, as of one who listens,and leaping to his feet, he cried out to me, “It is not yettoo late! Quick! Quick! Bring the brandy!”

I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care tosmell and taste it, lest it, too, were drugged like the de-canter of sherry which I found on the table. The maidswere still breathing, but more restlessly, and I fancied thatthe narcotic was wearing off. I did not stay to make sure,but returned to Van Helsing. He rubbed the brandy, as onanother occasion, on her lips and gums and on her wristsand the palms of her hands. He said to me, “I can do this,all that can be at the present. You go wake those maids.Flick them in the face with a wet towel, and flick them

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hard. Make them get heat and fire and a warm bath. Thispoor soul is nearly as cold as that beside her. She willneed be heated before we can do anything more.”

I went at once, and found little difficulty in wakingthree of the women. The fourth was only a young girl,and the drug had evidently affected her more strongly soI lifted her on the sofa and let her sleep.

The others were dazed at first, but as remembrancecame back to them they cried and sobbed in a hystericalmanner. I was stern with them, however, and would notlet them talk. I told them that one life was bad enough tolose, and if they delayed they would sacrifice Miss Lucy.So, sobbing and crying they went about their way, halfclad as they were, and prepared fire and water. Fortu-nately, the kitchen and boiler fires were still alive, andthere was no lack of hot water. We got a bath and car-ried Lucy out as she was and placed her in it. Whilst wewere busy chafing her limbs there was a knock at the halldoor. One of the maids ran off, hurried on some moreclothes, and opened it. Then she returned and whisperedto us that there was a gentleman who had come with amessage from Mr. Holmwood. I bade her simply tell himthat he must wait, for we could see no one now. She wentaway with the message, and, engrossed with our work, I

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clean forgot all about him.I never saw in all my experience the Professor work in

such deadly earnest. I knew, as he knew, that it was astand-up fight with death, and in a pause told him so. Heanswered me in a way that I did not understand, but withthe sternest look that his face could wear.

“If that were all, I would stop here where we are now,and let her fade away into peace, for I see no light in lifeover her horizon.” He went on with his work with, ifpossible, renewed and more frenzied vigour.

Presently we both began to be conscious that the heatwas beginning to be of some effect. Lucy’s heart beata trifle more audibly to the stethoscope, and her lungshad a perceptible movement. Van Helsing’s face almostbeamed, and as we lifted her from the bath and rolled herin a hot sheet to dry her he said to me, “The first gain isours! Check to the King!”

We took Lucy into another room, which had by nowbeen prepared, and laid her in bed and forced a few dropsof brandy down her throat. I noticed that Van Helsingtied a soft silk handkerchief round her throat. She wasstill unconscious, and was quite as bad as, if not worsethan, we had ever seen her.

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Van Helsing called in one of the women, and told herto stay with her and not to take her eyes off her till wereturned, and then beckoned me out of the room.

“We must consult as to what is to be done,” he saidas we descended the stairs. In the hall he opened thedining room door, and we passed in, he closing the doorcarefully behind him. The shutters had been opened, butthe blinds were already down, with that obedience to theetiquette of death which the British woman of the lowerclasses always rigidly observes. The room was, therefore,dimly dark. It was, however, light enough for our pur-poses. Van Helsing’s sternness was somewhat relievedby a look of perplexity. He was evidently torturing hismind about something, so I waited for an instant, and hespoke.

“What are we to do now? Where are we to turn forhelp? We must have another transfusion of blood, andthat soon, or that poor girl’s life won’t be worth an hour’spurchase. You are exhausted already. I am exhaustedtoo. I fear to trust those women, even if they would havecourage to submit. What are we to do for some one whowill open his veins for her?”

“What’s the matter with me, anyhow?”

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The voice came from the sofa across the room, and itstones brought relief and joy to my heart, for they werethose of Quincey Morris.

Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but hisface softened and a glad look came into his eyes as I criedout, “Quincey Morris!” and rushed towards him withoutstretched hands.

“What brought you here?” I cried as our hands met.“I guess Art is the cause.”He handed me a telegram.–’Have not heard from Se-

ward for three days, and am terribly anxious. Cannotleave. Father still in same condition. Send me word howLucy is. Do not delay.–Holmwood.’

“I think I came just in the nick of time. You know youhave only to tell me what to do.”

Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, look-ing him straight in the eyes as he said, “A brave man’sblood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is introuble. You’re a man and no mistake. Well, the devilmay work against us for all he’s worth, but God sends usmen when we want them.”

Once again we went through that ghastly operation. Ihave not the heart to go through with the details. Lucy

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had got a terrible shock and it told on her more thanbefore, for though plenty of blood went into her veins,her body did not respond to the treatment as well ason the other occasions. Her struggle back into life wassomething frightful to see and hear. However, the ac-tion of both heart and lungs improved, and Van Hels-ing made a sub-cutaneous injection of morphia, as before,and with good effect. Her faint became a profound slum-ber. The Professor watched whilst I went downstairs withQuincey Morris, and sent one of the maids to pay off oneof the cabmen who were waiting.

I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine,and told the cook to get ready a good breakfast. Then athought struck me, and I went back to the room whereLucy now was. When I came softly in, I found Van Hels-ing with a sheet or two of note paper in his hand. He hadevidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat withhis hand to his brow. There was a look of grim satisfac-tion in his face, as of one who has had a doubt solved.He handed me the paper saying only, “It dropped fromLucy’s breast when we carried her to the bath.”

When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, andafter a pause asked him, “In God’s name, what does it allmean? Was she, or is she, mad, or what sort of horrible

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danger is it?” I was so bewildered that I did not knowwhat to say more. Van Helsing put out his hand and tookthe paper, saying,

“Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present.You shall know and understand it all in good time, but itwill be later. And now what is it that you came to me tosay?” This brought me back to fact, and I was all myselfagain.

“I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we donot act properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, andthat paper would have to be produced. I am in hopes thatwe need have no inquest, for if we had it would surelykill poor Lucy, if nothing else did. I know, and you know,and the other doctor who attended her knows, that Mrs.Westenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify thatshe died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at once, and Ishall take it myself to the registrar and go on to the un-dertaker.”

“Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly MissLucy, if she be sad in the foes that beset her, is at leasthappy in the friends that love her. One, two, three, allopen their veins for her, besides one old man. Ah, yes, Iknow, friend John. I am not blind! I love you all the more

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for it! Now go.”

In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram forArthur telling him that Mrs. Westenra was dead, thatLucy also had been ill, but was now going on better, andthat Van Helsing and I were with her. I told him whereI was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was goingsaid,

“When you come back, Jack, may I have two wordswith you all to ourselves?” I nodded in reply and wentout. I found no difficulty about the registration, andarranged with the local undertaker to come up in theevening to measure for the coffin and to make arrange-ments.

When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I toldhim I would see him as soon as I knew about Lucy, andwent up to her room. She was still sleeping, and the Pro-fessor seemingly had not moved from his seat at her side.From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered that heexpected her to wake before long and was afraid of fore-stalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took himinto the breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawndown, and which was a little more cheerful, or rather lesscheerless, than the other rooms.

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When we were alone, he said to me, “Jack Seward, Idon’t want to shove myself in anywhere where I’ve noright to be, but this is no ordinary case. You know I lovedthat girl and wanted to marry her, but although that’s allpast and gone, I can’t help feeling anxious about her allthe same. What is it that’s wrong with her? The Dutch-man, and a fine old fellow he is, I can see that, said thattime you two came into the room, that you must haveanother transfusion of blood, and that both you and hewere exhausted. Now I know well that you medical menspeak in camera, and that a man must not expect to knowwhat they consult about in private. But this is no com-mon matter, and whatever it is, I have done my part. Isnot that so?”

“That’s so,” I said, and he went on.“I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done al-

ready what I did today. Is not that so?”“That’s so.”“And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four

days ago down at his own place he looked queer. I havenot seen anything pulled down so quick since I was onthe Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of go to grassall in a night. One of those big bats that they call vam-

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pires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorgeand the vein left open, there wasn’t enough blood in herto let her stand up, and I had to put a bullet through heras she lay. Jack, if you may tell me without betraying con-fidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so?”

As he spoke the poor fellow looked terribly anxious.He was in a torture of suspense regarding the womanhe loved, and his utter ignorance of the terrible mysterywhich seemed to surround her intensified his pain. Hisvery heart was bleeding, and it took all the manhood ofhim, and there was a royal lot of it, too, to keep him frombreaking down. I paused before answering, for I felt thatI must not betray anything which the Professor wishedkept secret, but already he knew so much, and guessedso much, that there could be no reason for not answering,so I answered in the same phrase.

“That’s so.”

“And how long has this been going on?”

“About ten days.”

“Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poorpretty creature that we all love has had put into her veinswithin that time the blood of four strong men. Man alive,

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her whole body wouldn’t hold it.” Then coming close tome, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper. “What took it out?”

I shook my head. “That,” I said, “is the crux. Van Hels-ing is simply frantic about it, and I am at my wits’ end.I can’t even hazard a guess. There has been a series oflittle circumstances which have thrown out all our calcu-lations as to Lucy being properly watched. But these shallnot occur again. Here we stay until all be well, or ill.”

Quincey held out his hand. “Count me in,” he said.“You and the Dutchman will tell me what to do, and I’lldo it.”

When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy’s firstmovement was to feel in her breast, and to my surprise,produced the paper which Van Helsing had given me toread. The careful Professor had replaced it where it hadcome from, lest on waking she should be alarmed. Hereyes then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and glad-dened. Then she looked round the room, and seeingwhere she was, shuddered. She gave a loud cry, and puther poor thin hands before her pale face.

We both understood what was meant, that she had re-alized to the full her mother’s death. So we tried whatwe could to comfort her. Doubtless sympathy eased her

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somewhat, but she was very low in thought and spirit,and wept silently and weakly for a long time. We toldher that either or both of us would now remain with herall the time, and that seemed to comfort her. Towardsdusk she fell into a doze. Here a very odd thing occurred.Whilst still asleep she took the paper from her breast andtore it in two. Van Helsing stepped over and took thepieces from her. All the same, however, she went on withthe action of tearing, as though the material were still inher hands. Finally she lifted her hands and opened themas though scattering the fragments. Van Helsing seemedsurprised, and his brows gathered as if in thought, but hesaid nothing.

19 September.–All last night she slept fitfully, being al-ways afraid to sleep, and something weaker when shewoke from it. The Professor and I took in turns to watch,and we never left her for a moment unattended. QuinceyMorris said nothing about his intention, but I knew thatall night long he patrolled round and round the house.

When the day came, its searching light showed the rav-ages in poor Lucy’s strength. She was hardly able to turnher head, and the little nourishment which she could takeseemed to do her no good. At times she slept, and bothVan Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between

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sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger,although more haggard, and her breathing was softer.Her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back fromthe teeth, which looked positively longer and sharperthan usual. When she woke the softness of her eyes ev-idently changed the expression, for she looked her ownself, although a dying one. In the afternoon she asked forArthur, and we telegraphed for him. Quincey went off tomeet him at the station.

When he arrived it was nearly six o’clock, and the sunwas setting full and warm, and the red light streamed inthrough the window and gave more colour to the palecheeks. When he saw her, Arthur was simply chokingwith emotion, and none of us could speak. In the hoursthat had passed, the fits of sleep, or the comatose con-dition that passed for it, had grown more frequent, sothat the pauses when conversation was possible wereshortened. Arthur’s presence, however, seemed to actas a stimulant. She rallied a little, and spoke to himmore brightly than she had done since we arrived. Hetoo pulled himself together, and spoke as cheerily as hecould, so that the best was made of everything.

It is now nearly one o’clock, and he and Van Helsingare sitting with her. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an

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hour, and I am entering this on Lucy’s phonograph. Untilsix o’clock they are to try to rest. I fear that tomorrow willend our watching, for the shock has been too great. Thepoor child cannot rally. God help us all.

LETTER MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA

(Unopened by her)

17 September

My dearest Lucy,

“It seems an age since I heard from you, or indeedsince I wrote. You will pardon me, I know, for all myfaults when you have read all my budget of news. Well,I got my husband back all right. When we arrived at Ex-eter there was a carriage waiting for us, and in it, thoughhe had an attack of gout, Mr. Hawkins. He took us tohis house, where there were rooms for us all nice andcomfortable, and we dined together. After dinner Mr.Hawkins said,

“‘My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity,and may every blessing attend you both. I know you bothfrom children, and have, with love and pride, seen you

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grow up. Now I want you to make your home here withme. I have left to me neither chick nor child. All are gone,and in my will I have left you everything.’ I cried, Lucydear, as Jonathan and the old man clasped hands. Ourevening was a very, very happy one.

“So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house,and from both my bedroom and the drawing room I cansee the great elms of the cathedral close, with their greatblack stems standing out against the old yellow stone ofthe cathedral, and I can hear the rooks overhead cawingand cawing and chattering and chattering and gossipingall day, after the manner of rooks–and humans. I am busy,I need not tell you, arranging things and housekeeping.Jonathan and Mr. Hawkins are busy all day, for now thatJonathan is a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to tell him allabout the clients.

“How is your dear mother getting on? I wish I couldrun up to town for a day or two to see you, dear, but I darenot go yet, with so much on my shoulders, and Jonathanwants looking after still. He is beginning to put someflesh on his bones again, but he was terribly weakenedby the long illness. Even now he sometimes starts out ofhis sleep in a sudden way and awakes all trembling until Ican coax him back to his usual placidity. However, thank

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God, these occasions grow less frequent as the days go on,and they will in time pass away altogether, I trust. Andnow I have told you my news, let me ask yours. Whenare you to be married, and where, and who is to performthe ceremony, and what are you to wear, and is it to bea public or private wedding? Tell me all about it, dear,tell me all about everything, for there is nothing whichinterests you which will not be dear to me. Jonathan asksme to send his ‘respectful duty’, but I do not think thatis good enough from the junior partner of the importantfirm Hawkins’ Harker. And so, as you love me, and heloves me, and I love you with all the moods and tenses ofthe verb, I send you simply his ‘love’ instead. Goodbye,my dearest Lucy, and blessings on you.

“Yours,

“Mina Harker”

REPORT FROM PATRICK HENNESSEY, MD, MRCSLK,QCPI, ETC, ETC, TO JOHN SEWARD, MD

20 September

My dear Sir:

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“In accordance with your wishes, I enclose report of theconditions of everything left in my charge. With regard topatient, Renfield, there is more to say. He has had anotheroutbreak, which might have had a dreadful ending, butwhich, as it fortunately happened, was unattended withany unhappy results. This afternoon a carrier’s cart withtwo men made a call at the empty house whose groundsabut on ours, the house to which, you will remember, thepatient twice ran away. The men stopped at our gate toask the porter their way, as they were strangers.

“I was myself looking out of the study window, havinga smoke after dinner, and saw one of them come up tothe house. As he passed the window of Renfield’s room,the patient began to rate him from within, and called himall the foul names he could lay his tongue to. The man,who seemed a decent fellow enough, contented himselfby telling him to ‘shut up for a foul-mouthed beggar’,whereon our man accused him of robbing him and want-ing to murder him and said that he would hinder him ifhe were to swing for it. I opened the window and signedto the man not to notice, so he contented himself afterlooking the place over and making up his mind as to whatkind of place he had got to by saying, ‘Lor’ bless yer, sir,I wouldn’t mind what was said to me in a bloomin’ mad-

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house. I pity ye and the guv’nor for havin’ to live in thehouse with a wild beast like that.’

“Then he asked his way civilly enough, and I told himwhere the gate of the empty house was. He went awayfollowed by threats and curses and revilings from ourman. I went down to see if I could make out any cause forhis anger, since he is usually such a well-behaved man,and except his violent fits nothing of the kind had everoccurred. I found him, to my astonishment, quite com-posed and most genial in his manner. I tried to get him totalk of the incident, but he blandly asked me questions asto what I meant, and led me to believe that he was com-pletely oblivious of the affair. It was, I am sorry to say,however, only another instance of his cunning, for withinhalf an hour I heard of him again. This time he had bro-ken out through the window of his room, and was run-ning down the avenue. I called to the attendants to followme, and ran after him, for I feared he was intent on somemischief. My fear was justified when I saw the same cartwhich had passed before coming down the road, havingon it some great wooden boxes. The men were wipingtheir foreheads, and were flushed in the face, as if withviolent exercise. Before I could get up to him, the patientrushed at them, and pulling one of them off the cart, be-

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gan to knock his head against the ground. If I had notseized him just at the moment, I believe he would havekilled the man there and then. The other fellow jumpeddown and struck him over the head with the butt end ofhis heavy whip. It was a horrible blow, but he did notseem to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled withthe three of us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens.You know I am no lightweight, and the others were bothburly men. At first he was silent in his fighting, but as webegan to master him, and the attendants were putting astrait waistcoat on him, he began to shout, ‘I’ll frustratethem! They shan’t rob me! They shan’t murder me byinches! I’ll fight for my Lord and Master!’ and all sorts ofsimilar incoherent ravings. It was with very considerabledifficulty that they got him back to the house and put himin the padded room. One of the attendants, Hardy, had afinger broken. However, I set it all right, and he is goingon well.

“The two carriers were at first loud in their threats ofactions for damages, and promised to rain all the penal-ties of the law on us. Their threats were, however, min-gled with some sort of indirect apology for the defeat ofthe two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if ithad not been for the way their strength had been spent

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in carrying and raising the heavy boxes to the cart theywould have made short work of him. They gave as an-other reason for their defeat the extraordinary state ofdrouth to which they had been reduced by the dusty na-ture of their occupation and the reprehensible distancefrom the scene of their labors of any place of public enter-tainment. I quite understood their drift, and after a stiffglass of strong grog, or rather more of the same, and witheach a sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack,and swore that they would encounter a worse madmanany day for the pleasure of meeting so ‘bloomin’ gooda bloke’ as your correspondent. I took their names andaddresses, in case they might be needed. They are as fol-lows: Jack Smollet, of Dudding’s Rents, King George’sRoad, Great Walworth, and Thomas Snelling, Peter Far-ley’s Row, Guide Court, Bethnal Green. They are both inthe employment of Harris’ Sons, Moving and ShipmentCompany, Orange Master’s Yard, Soho.

“I shall report to you any matter of interest occurringhere, and shall wire you at once if there is anything ofimportance.

“Believe me, dear Sir,

“Yours faithfully,

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“Patrick Hennessey.”

LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA(Unopened by her)

18 September“My dearest Lucy,“Such a sad blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins has

died very suddenly. Some may not think it so sad forus, but we had both come to so love him that it reallyseems as though we had lost a father. I never knew ei-ther father or mother, so that the dear old man’s deathis a real blow to me. Jonathan is greatly distressed. It isnot only that he feels sorrow, deep sorrow, for the dear,good man who has befriended him all his life, and nowat the end has treated him like his own son and left hima fortune which to people of our modest bringing up iswealth beyond the dream of avarice, but Jonathan feels iton another account. He says the amount of responsibilitywhich it puts upon him makes him nervous. He beginsto doubt himself. I try to cheer him up, and my belief inhim helps him to have a belief in himself. But it is herethat the grave shock that he experienced tells upon him

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the most. Oh, it is too hard that a sweet, simple, noble,strong nature such as his, a nature which enabled him byour dear, good friend’s aid to rise from clerk to master ina few years, should be so injured that the very essence ofits strength is gone. Forgive me, dear, if I worry you withmy troubles in the midst of your own happiness, but Lucydear, I must tell someone, for the strain of keeping up abrave and cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, andI have no one here that I can confide in. I dread comingup to London, as we must do that day after tomorrow, forpoor Mr. Hawkins left in his will that he was to be buriedin the grave with his father. As there are no relations atall, Jonathan will have to be chief mourner. I shall try torun over to see you, dearest, if only for a few minutes.Forgive me for troubling you. With all blessings,

“Your loving“Mina Harker”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

20 September.–Only resolution and habit can let memake an entry tonight. I am too miserable, too low spir-ited, too sick of the world and all in it, including life itself,

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that I would not care if I heard this moment the flappingof the wings of the angel of death. And he has been flap-ping those grim wings to some purpose of late, Lucy’smother and Arthur’s father, and now... Let me get onwith my work.

I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. Wewanted Arthur to go to rest also, but he refused at first.It was only when I told him that we should want him tohelp us during the day, and that we must not all breakdown for want of rest, lest Lucy should suffer, that heagreed to go.

Van Helsing was very kind to him. “Come, my child,”he said. “Come with me. You are sick and weak, andhave had much sorrow and much mental pain, as well asthat tax on your strength that we know of. You must notbe alone, for to be alone is to be full of fears and alarms.Come to the drawing room, where there is a big fire, andthere are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on theother, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other,even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep.”

Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing lookon Lucy’s face, which lay in her pillow, almost whiterthan the lawn. She lay quite still, and I looked around the

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room to see that all was as it should be. I could see thatthe Professor had carried out in this room, as in the other,his purpose of using the garlic. The whole of the windowsashes reeked with it, and round Lucy’s neck, over thesilk handkerchief which Van Helsing made her keep on,was a rough chaplet of the same odorous flowers.

Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, and herface was at its worst, for the open mouth showed thepale gums. Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemedlonger and sharper than they had been in the morning.In particular, by some trick of the light, the canine teethlooked longer and sharper than the rest.

I sat down beside her, and presently she moved un-easily. At the same moment there came a sort of dull flap-ping or buffeting at the window. I went over to it softly,and peeped out by the corner of the blind. There was afull moonlight, and I could see that the noise was madeby a great bat, which wheeled around, doubtless attractedby the light, although so dim, and every now and againstruck the window with its wings. When I came back tomy seat, I found that Lucy had moved slightly, and hadtorn away the garlic flowers from her throat. I replacedthem as well as I could, and sat watching her.

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Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Hels-ing had prescribed. She took but a little, and that lan-guidly. There did not seem to be with her now the uncon-scious struggle for life and strength that had hitherto somarked her illness. It struck me as curious that the mo-ment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowersclose to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she gotinto that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, sheput the flowers from her, but that when she waked sheclutched them close. There was no possibility of mak-ing any mistake about this, for in the long hours that fol-lowed, she had many spells of sleeping and waking andrepeated both actions many times.

At six o’clock Van Helsing came to relieve me. Arthurhad then fallen into a doze, and he mercifully let himsleep on. When he saw Lucy’s face I could hear the hiss-ing indraw of breath, and he said to me in a sharp whis-per. “Draw up the blind. I want light!” Then he bentdown, and, with his face almost touching Lucy’s, exam-ined her carefully. He removed the flowers and lifted thesilk handkerchief from her throat. As he did so he startedback and I could hear his ejaculation, “Mein Gott!” asit was smothered in his throat. I bent over and looked,too, and as I noticed some queer chill came over me. The

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wounds on the throat had absolutely disappeared.

For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her,with his face at its sternest. Then he turned to me and saidcalmly, “She is dying. It will not be long now. It will bemuch difference, mark me, whether she dies conscious orin her sleep. Wake that poor boy, and let him come andsee the last. He trusts us, and we have promised him.”

I went to the dining room and waked him. He wasdazed for a moment, but when he saw the sunlightstreaming in through the edges of the shutters he thoughthe was late, and expressed his fear. I assured him thatLucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as I couldthat both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was near.He covered his face with his hands, and slid down on hisknees by the sofa, where he remained, perhaps a minute,with his head buried, praying, whilst his shoulders shookwith grief. I took him by the hand and raised him up.“Come,” I said, “my dear old fellow, summon all yourfortitude. It will be best and easiest for her.”

When we came into Lucy’s room I could see that VanHelsing had, with his usual forethought, been puttingmatters straight and making everything look as pleasingas possible. He had even brushed Lucy’s hair, so that it

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lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When wecame into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him,whispered softly, “Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad youhave come!”

He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing mo-tioned him back. “No,” he whispered, “not yet! Hold herhand, it will comfort her more.”

So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and shelooked her best, with all the soft lines matching the an-gelic beauty of her eyes. Then gradually her eyes closed,and she sank to sleep. For a little bit her breast heavedsoftly, and her breath came and went like a tired child’s.

And then insensibly there came the strange changewhich I had noticed in the night. Her breathing grewstertorous, the mouth opened, and the pale gums, drawnback, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever.In a sort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way sheopened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once,and said in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had neverheard from her lips, “Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so gladyou have come! Kiss me!”

Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her, but at that instantVan Helsing, who, like me, had been startled by her voice,

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swooped upon him, and catching him by the neck withboth hands, dragged him back with a fury of strengthwhich I never thought he could have possessed, and ac-tually hurled him almost across the room.

“Not on your life!” he said, “not for your living souland hers!” And he stood between them like a lion at bay.

Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a mo-ment know what to do or say, and before any impulseof violence could seize him he realized the place and theoccasion, and stood silent, waiting.

I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, andwe saw a spasm as of rage flit like a shadow over her face.The sharp teeth clamped together. Then her eyes closed,and she breathed heavily.

Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their soft-ness, and putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took VanHelsing’s great brown one, drawing it close to her, shekissed it. “My true friend,” she said, in a faint voice,but with untellable pathos, “My true friend, and his! Oh,guard him, and give me peace!”

“I swear it!” he said solemnly, kneeling beside her andholding up his hand, as one who registers an oath. Thenhe turned to Arthur, and said to him, “Come, my child,

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take her hand in yours, and kiss her on the forehead, andonly once.”

Their eyes met instead of their lips, and so they parted.Lucy’s eyes closed, and Van Helsing, who had beenwatching closely, took Arthur’s arm, and drew him away.

And then Lucy’s breathing became stertorous again,and all at once it ceased.

“It is all over,” said Van Helsing. “She is dead!”

I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to thedrawing room, where he sat down, and covered his facewith his hands, sobbing in a way that nearly broke medown to see.

I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing look-ing at poor Lucy, and his face was sterner than ever. Somechange had come over her body. Death had given backpart of her beauty, for her brow and cheeks had recoveredsome of their flowing lines. Even the lips had lost theirdeadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed forthe working of the heart, had gone to make the harshnessof death as little rude as might be.

“We thought her dying whilst she slept, and sleepingwhen she died.”

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I stood beside Van Helsing, and said, “Ah well, poorgirl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!”

He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity, “Notso, alas! Not so. It is only the beginning!”

When I asked him what he meant, he only shook hishead and answered, “We can do nothing as yet. Wait andsee.”

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY–cont.

The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day,so that Lucy and her mother might be buried together.I attended to all the ghastly formalities, and the urbaneundertaker proved that his staff was afflicted, or blessed,with something of his own obsequious suavity. Even thewoman who performed the last offices for the dead re-marked to me, in a confidential, brother-professional way,when she had come out from the death chamber,

“She makes a very beautiful corpse, sir. It’s quite aprivilege to attend on her. It’s not too much to say thatshe will do credit to our establishment!”

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I noticed that Van Helsing never kept far away. Thiswas possible from the disordered state of things in thehousehold. There were no relatives at hand, and asArthur had to be back the next day to attend at his fa-ther’s funeral, we were unable to notify any one whoshould have been bidden. Under the circumstances, VanHelsing and I took it upon ourselves to examine papers,etc. He insisted upon looking over Lucy’s papers himself.I asked him why, for I feared that he, being a foreigner,might not be quite aware of English legal requirements,and so might in ignorance make some unnecessary trou-ble.

He answered me, “I know, I know. You forget that I ama lawyer as well as a doctor. But this is not altogether forthe law. You knew that, when you avoided the coroner. Ihave more than him to avoid. There may be papers more,such as this.”

As he spoke he took from his pocket book the memo-randum which had been in Lucy’s breast, and which shehad torn in her sleep.

“When you find anything of the solicitor who is for thelate Mrs. Westenra, seal all her papers, and write himtonight. For me, I watch here in the room and in Miss

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Lucy’s old room all night, and I myself search for whatmay be. It is not well that her very thoughts go into thehands of strangers.”

I went on with my part of the work, and in another halfhour had found the name and address of Mrs. Westenra’ssolicitor and had written to him. All the poor lady’s pa-pers were in order. Explicit directions regarding the placeof burial were given. I had hardly sealed the letter, when,to my surprise, Van Helsing walked into the room, say-ing,

“Can I help you friend John? I am free, and if I may,my service is to you.”

“Have you got what you looked for?” I asked.To which he replied, “I did not look for any specific

thing. I only hoped to find, and find I have, all that therewas, only some letters and a few memoranda, and a di-ary new begun. But I have them here, and we shall forthe present say nothing of them. I shall see that poorlad tomorrow evening, and, with his sanction, I shall usesome.”

When we had finished the work in hand, he said to me,“And now, friend John, I think we may to bed. We wantsleep, both you and I, and rest to recuperate. Tomorrow

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we shall have much to do, but for the tonight there is noneed of us. Alas!”

Before turning in we went to look at poor Lucy. The un-dertaker had certainly done his work well, for the roomwas turned into a small chapelle ardente. There wasa wilderness of beautiful white flowers, and death wasmade as little repulsive as might be. The end of the wind-ing sheet was laid over the face. When the Professor bentover and turned it gently back, we both started at thebeauty before us. The tall wax candles showing a suffi-cient light to note it well. All Lucy’s loveliness had comeback to her in death, and the hours that had passed, in-stead of leaving traces of ‘decay’s effacing fingers’, hadbut restored the beauty of life, till positively I could notbelieve my eyes that I was looking at a corpse.

The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not lovedher as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes.He said to me, “Remain till I return,” and left the room.He came back with a handful of wild garlic from the boxwaiting in the hall, but which had not been opened, andplaced the flowers amongst the others on and around thebed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a littlegold crucifix, and placed it over the mouth. He restoredthe sheet to its place, and we came away.

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I was undressing in my own room, when, with a pre-monitory tap at the door, he entered, and at once beganto speak.

“Tomorrow I want you to bring me, before night, a setof post-mortem knives.”

“Must we make an autopsy?” I asked.“Yes and no. I want to operate, but not what you think.

Let me tell you now, but not a word to another. I wantto cut off her head and take out her heart. Ah! You asurgeon, and so shocked! You, whom I have seen with notremble of hand or heart, do operations of life and deaththat make the rest shudder. Oh, but I must not forget,my dear friend John, that you loved her, and I have notforgotten it for is I that shall operate, and you must nothelp. I would like to do it tonight, but for Arthur I mustnot. He will be free after his father’s funeral tomorrow,and he will want to see her, to see it. Then, when sheis coffined ready for the next day, you and I shall comewhen all sleep. We shall unscrew the coffin lid, and shalldo our operation, and then replace all, so that none know,save we alone.”

“But why do it at all? The girl is dead. Why mutilateher poor body without need? And if there is no necessity

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for a post-mortem and nothing to gain by it, no good toher, to us, to science, to human knowledge, why do it?Without such it is monstrous.”

For answer he put his hand on my shoulder, and said,with infinite tenderness, “Friend John, I pity your poorbleeding heart, and I love you the more because it does sobleed. If I could, I would take on myself the burden thatyou do bear. But there are things that you know not, butthat you shall know, and bless me for knowing, thoughthey are not pleasant things. John, my child, you havebeen my friend now many years, and yet did you everknow me to do any without good cause? I may err, I ambut man, but I believe in all I do. Was it not for thesecauses that you send for me when the great trouble came?Yes! Were you not amazed, nay horrified, when I wouldnot let Arthur kiss his love, though she was dying, andsnatched him away by all my strength? Yes! And yetyou saw how she thanked me, with her so beautiful dyingeyes, her voice, too, so weak, and she kiss my rough oldhand and bless me? Yes! And did you not hear me swearpromise to her, that so she closed her eyes grateful? Yes!

“Well, I have good reason now for all I want to do. Youhave for many years trust me. You have believe me weekspast, when there be things so strange that you might have

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well doubt. Believe me yet a little, friend John. If youtrust me not, then I must tell what I think, and that is notperhaps well. And if I work, as work I shall, no mattertrust or no trust, without my friend trust in me, I workwith heavy heart and feel oh so lonely when I want allhelp and courage that may be!” He paused a moment andwent on solemnly, “Friend John, there are strange and ter-rible days before us. Let us not be two, but one, that sowe work to a good end. Will you not have faith in me?”

I took his hand, and promised him. I held my dooropen as he went away, and watched him go to his roomand close the door. As I stood without moving, I saw oneof the maids pass silently along the passage, she had herback to me, so did not see me, and go into the room whereLucy lay. The sight touched me. Devotion is so rare, andwe are so grateful to those who show it unasked to thosewe love. Here was a poor girl putting aside the terrorswhich she naturally had of death to go watch alone bythe bier of the mistress whom she loved, so that the poorclay might not be lonely till laid to eternal rest.

I must have slept long and soundly, for it was broaddaylight when Van Helsing waked me by coming into myroom. He came over to my bedside and said, “You neednot trouble about the knives. We shall not do it.”

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“Why not?” I asked. For his solemnity of the nightbefore had greatly impressed me.

“Because,” he said sternly, “it is too late, or too early.See!” Here he held up the little golden crucifix.

“This was stolen in the night.”“How stolen,” I asked in wonder, “since you have it

now?”“Because I get it back from the worthless wretch who

stole it, from the woman who robbed the dead and theliving. Her punishment will surely come, but not throughme. She knew not altogether what she did, and thus un-knowing, she only stole. Now we must wait.” He wentaway on the word, leaving me with a new mystery tothink of, a new puzzle to grapple with.

The forenoon was a dreary time, but at noon the solici-tor came, Mr. Marquand, of Wholeman, Sons, Marquand’Lidderdale. He was very genial and very appreciative ofwhat we had done, and took off our hands all cares asto details. During lunch he told us that Mrs. Westenrahad for some time expected sudden death from her heart,and had put her affairs in absolute order. He informed usthat, with the exception of a certain entailed property ofLucy’s father which now, in default of direct issue, went

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back to a distant branch of the family, the whole estate,real and personal, was left absolutely to Arthur Holm-wood. When he had told us so much he went on,

“Frankly we did our best to prevent such a testamen-tary disposition, and pointed out certain contingenciesthat might leave her daughter either penniless or not sofree as she should be to act regarding a matrimonial al-liance. Indeed, we pressed the matter so far that we al-most came into collision, for she asked us if we were orwere not prepared to carry out her wishes. Of course,we had then no alternative but to accept. We were rightin principle, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred weshould have proved, by the logic of events, the accuracyof our judgment.

“Frankly, however, I must admit that in this case anyother form of disposition would have rendered impossi-ble the carrying out of her wishes. For by her predeceas-ing her daughter the latter would have come into posses-sion of the property, and, even had she only survived hermother by five minutes, her property would, in case therewere no will, and a will was a practical impossibility insuch a case, have been treated at her decease as under in-testacy. In which case Lord Godalming, though so dear afriend, would have had no claim in the world. And the

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inheritors, being remote, would not be likely to abandontheir just rights, for sentimental reasons regarding an en-tire stranger. I assure you, my dear sirs, I am rejoiced atthe result, perfectly rejoiced.”

He was a good fellow, but his rejoicing at the one littlepart, in which he was officially interested, of so great atragedy, was an object-lesson in the limitations of sympa-thetic understanding.

He did not remain long, but said he would look in laterin the day and see Lord Godalming. His coming, how-ever, had been a certain comfort to us, since it assured usthat we should not have to dread hostile criticism as toany of our acts. Arthur was expected at five o’clock, soa little before that time we visited the death chamber. Itwas so in very truth, for now both mother and daughterlay in it. The undertaker, true to his craft, had made thebest display he could of his goods, and there was a mor-tuary air about the place that lowered our spirits at once.

Van Helsing ordered the former arrangement to be ad-hered to, explaining that, as Lord Godalming was comingvery soon, it would be less harrowing to his feelings to seeall that was left of his fiancee quite alone.

The undertaker seemed shocked at his own stupidity

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and exerted himself to restore things to the condition inwhich we left them the night before, so that when Arthurcame such shocks to his feelings as we could avoid weresaved.

Poor fellow! He looked desperately sad and broken.Even his stalwart manhood seemed to have shrunk some-what under the strain of his much-tried emotions. Hehad, I knew, been very genuinely and devotedly attachedto his father, and to lose him, and at such a time, was abitter blow to him. With me he was warm as ever, andto Van Helsing he was sweetly courteous. But I could nothelp seeing that there was some constraint with him. Theprofessor noticed it too, and motioned me to bring himupstairs. I did so, and left him at the door of the room, asI felt he would like to be quite alone with her, but he tookmy arm and led me in, saying huskily,

“You loved her too, old fellow. She told me all aboutit, and there was no friend had a closer place in her heartthan you. I don’t know how to thank you for all you havedone for her. I can’t think yet...”

Here he suddenly broke down, and threw his armsround my shoulders and laid his head on my breast, cry-ing, “Oh, Jack! Jack! What shall I do? The whole of life

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seems gone from me all at once, and there is nothing inthe wide world for me to live for.”

I comforted him as well as I could. In such cases mendo not need much expression. A grip of the hand, thetightening of an arm over the shoulder, a sob in unison,are expressions of sympathy dear to a man’s heart. I stoodstill and silent till his sobs died away, and then I saidsoftly to him, “Come and look at her.”

Together we moved over to the bed, and I lifted thelawn from her face. God! How beautiful she was. Everyhour seemed to be enhancing her loveliness. It frightenedand amazed me somewhat. And as for Arthur, he fell totrembling, and finally was shaken with doubt as with anague. At last, after a long pause, he said to me in a faintwhisper, “Jack, is she really dead?”

I assured him sadly that it was so, and went on to sug-gest, for I felt that such a horrible doubt should not havelife for a moment longer than I could help, that it of-ten happened that after death faces become softened andeven resolved into their youthful beauty, that this was es-pecially so when death had been preceded by any acuteor prolonged suffering. I seemed to quite do away withany doubt, and after kneeling beside the couch for a while

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and looking at her lovingly and long, he turned aside. Itold him that that must be goodbye, as the coffin had tobe prepared, so he went back and took her dead hand inhis and kissed it, and bent over and kissed her forehead.He came away, fondly looking back over his shoulder ather as he came.

I left him in the drawing room, and told Van Helsingthat he had said goodbye, so the latter went to the kitchento tell the undertaker’s men to proceed with the prepara-tions and to screw up the coffin. When he came out ofthe room again I told him of Arthur’s question, and hereplied, “I am not surprised. Just now I doubted for amoment myself!”

We all dined together, and I could see that poor Art wastrying to make the best of things. Van Helsing had beensilent all dinner time, but when we had lit our cigars hesaid, “Lord...” but Arthur interrupted him.

“No, no, not that, for God’s sake! Not yet at any rate.Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to speak offensively. It isonly because my loss is so recent.”

The Professor answered very sweetly, “I only used thatname because I was in doubt. I must not call you ‘Mr.’and I have grown to love you, yes, my dear boy, to love

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you, as Arthur.”

Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man’swarmly. “Call me what you will,” he said. “I hope Imay always have the title of a friend. And let me saythat I am at a loss for words to thank you for your good-ness to my poor dear.” He paused a moment, and wenton, “I know that she understood your goodness even bet-ter than I do. And if I was rude or in any way wantingat that time you acted so, you remember“–the Professornodded–”you must forgive me.”

He answered with a grave kindness, “I know it washard for you to quite trust me then, for to trust such vio-lence needs to understand, and I take it that you do not,that you cannot, trust me now, for you do not yet under-stand. And there may be more times when I shall wantyou to trust when you cannot, and may not, and mustnot yet understand. But the time will come when yourtrust shall be whole and complete in me, and when youshall understand as though the sunlight himself shonethrough. Then you shall bless me from first to last foryour own sake, and for the sake of others, and for herdear sake to whom I swore to protect.”

“And indeed, indeed, sir,” said Arthur warmly. “I shall

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in all ways trust you. I know and believe you have a verynoble heart, and you are Jack’s friend, and you were hers.You shall do what you like.”

The Professor cleared his throat a couple of times, asthough about to speak, and finally said, “May I ask yousomething now?”

“Certainly.”

“You know that Mrs. Westenra left you all her prop-erty?”

“No, poor dear. I never thought of it.”

“And as it is all yours, you have a right to deal with itas you will. I want you to give me permission to read allMiss Lucy’s papers and letters. Believe me, it is no idlecuriosity. I have a motive of which, be sure, she wouldhave approved. I have them all here. I took them be-fore we knew that all was yours, so that no strange handmight touch them, no strange eye look through wordsinto her soul. I shall keep them, if I may. Even you maynot see them yet, but I shall keep them safe. No wordshall be lost, and in the good time I shall give them backto you. It is a hard thing that I ask, but you will do it, willyou not, for Lucy’s sake?”

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Arthur spoke out heartily, like his old self, “Dr. VanHelsing, you may do what you will. I feel that in sayingthis I am doing what my dear one would have approved.I shall not trouble you with questions till the time comes.”

The old Professor stood up as he said solemnly, “Andyou are right. There will be pain for us all, but it will notbe all pain, nor will this pain be the last. We and you too,you most of all, dear boy, will have to pass through thebitter water before we reach the sweet. But we must bebrave of heart and unselfish, and do our duty, and all willbe well!”

I slept on a sofa in Arthur’s room that night. Van Hels-ing did not go to bed at all. He went to and fro, as if pa-troling the house, and was never out of sight of the roomwhere Lucy lay in her coffin, strewn with the wild garlicflowers, which sent through the odour of lily and rose, aheavy, overpowering smell into the night.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

22 September.–In the train to Exeter. Jonathan sleeping.It seems only yesterday that the last entry was made, andyet how much between then, in Whitby and all the world

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before me, Jonathan away and no news of him, and now,married to Jonathan, Jonathan a solicitor, a partner, rich,master of his business, Mr. Hawkins dead and buried,and Jonathan with another attack that may harm him.Some day he may ask me about it. Down it all goes. Iam rusty in my shorthand, see what unexpected prosper-ity does for us, so it may be as well to freshen it up againwith an exercise anyhow.

The service was very simple and very solemn. Therewere only ourselves and the servants there, one or twoold friends of his from Exeter, his London agent, and agentleman representing Sir John Paxton, the President ofthe Incorporated Law Society. Jonathan and I stood handin hand, and we felt that our best and dearest friend wasgone from us.

We came back to town quietly, taking a bus to HydePark Corner. Jonathan thought it would interest me togo into the Row for a while, so we sat down. But therewere very few people there, and it was sad-looking anddesolate to see so many empty chairs. It made us thinkof the empty chair at home. So we got up and walkeddown Piccadilly. Jonathan was holding me by the arm,the way he used to in the old days before I went to school.I felt it very improper, for you can’t go on for some years

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teaching etiquette and decorum to other girls withoutthe pedantry of it biting into yourself a bit. But it wasJonathan, and he was my husband, and we didn’t knowanybody who saw us, and we didn’t care if they did, soon we walked. I was looking at a very beautiful girl, in abig cart-wheel hat, sitting in a victoria outside Guiliano’s,when I felt Jonathan clutch my arm so tight that he hurtme, and he said under his breath, “My God!”

I am always anxious about Jonathan, for I fear thatsome nervous fit may upset him again. So I turned tohim quickly, and asked him what it was that disturbedhim.

He was very pale, and his eyes seemed bulging out as,half in terror and half in amazement, he gazed at a tall,thin man, with a beaky nose and black moustache andpointed beard, who was also observing the pretty girl. Hewas looking at her so hard that he did not see either of us,and so I had a good view of him. His face was not a goodface. It was hard, and cruel, and sensual, and big whiteteeth, that looked all the whiter because his lips were sored, were pointed like an animal’s. Jonathan kept staringat him, till I was afraid he would notice. I feared he mighttake it ill, he looked so fierce and nasty. I asked Jonathanwhy he was disturbed, and he answered, evidently think-

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ing that I knew as much about it as he did, “Do you seewho it is?”

“No, dear,” I said. “I don’t know him, who is it?” Hisanswer seemed to shock and thrill me, for it was said asif he did not know that it was me, Mina, to whom he wasspeaking. “It is the man himself!”

The poor dear was evidently terrified at something,very greatly terrified. I do believe that if he had not hadme to lean on and to support him he would have sunkdown. He kept staring. A man came out of the shop witha small parcel, and gave it to the lady, who then droveoff. The dark man kept his eyes fixed on her, and whenthe carriage moved up Piccadilly he followed in the samedirection, and hailed a hansom. Jonathan kept lookingafter him, and said, as if to himself,

“I believe it is the Count, but he has grown young. MyGod, if this be so! Oh, my God! My God! If only I knew!If only I knew!” He was distressing himself so much thatI feared to keep his mind on the subject by asking himany questions, so I remained silent. I drew away qui-etly, and he, holding my arm, came easily. We walkeda little further, and then went in and sat for a while inthe Green Park. It was a hot day for autumn, and there

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was a comfortable seat in a shady place. After a few min-utes’ staring at nothing, Jonathan’s eyes closed, and hewent quickly into a sleep, with his head on my shoulder.I thought it was the best thing for him, so did not disturbhim. In about twenty minutes he woke up, and said tome quite cheerfully,

“Why, Mina, have I been asleep! Oh, do forgive me forbeing so rude. Come, and we’ll have a cup of tea some-where.”

He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger,as in his illness he had forgotten all that this episode hadreminded him of. I don’t like this lapsing into forgetful-ness. It may make or continue some injury to the brain.I must not ask him, for fear I shall do more harm thangood, but I must somehow learn the facts of his journeyabroad. The time is come, I fear, when I must open theparcel, and know what is written. Oh, Jonathan, you will,I know, forgive me if I do wrong, but it is for your owndear sake.

Later.–A sad homecoming in every way, the houseempty of the dear soul who was so good to us. Jonathanstill pale and dizzy under a slight relapse of his malady,and now a telegram from Van Helsing, whoever he may

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be. “You will be grieved to hear that Mrs. Westenra diedfive days ago, and that Lucy died the day before yester-day. They were both buried today.”

Oh, what a wealth of sorrow in a few words! Poor Mrs.Westenra! Poor Lucy! Gone, gone, never to return to us!And poor, poor Arthur, to have lost such a sweetness outof his life! God help us all to bear our troubles.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY-CONT.

22 September.–It is all over. Arthur has gone back toRing, and has taken Quincey Morris with him. What afine fellow is Quincey! I believe in my heart of hearts thathe suffered as much about Lucy’s death as any of us, buthe bore himself through it like a moral Viking. If Amer-ica can go on breeding men like that, she will be a powerin the world indeed. Van Helsing is lying down, hav-ing a rest preparatory to his journey. He goes to Amster-dam tonight, but says he returns tomorrow night, that heonly wants to make some arrangements which can onlybe made personally. He is to stop with me then, if hecan. He says he has work to do in London which maytake him some time. Poor old fellow! I fear that the

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strain of the past week has broken down even his ironstrength. All the time of the burial he was, I could see,putting some terrible restraint on himself. When it wasall over, we were standing beside Arthur, who, poor fel-low, was speaking of his part in the operation where hisblood had been transfused to his Lucy’s veins. I couldsee Van Helsing’s face grow white and purple by turns.Arthur was saying that he felt since then as if they twohad been really married, and that she was his wife in thesight of God. None of us said a word of the other oper-ations, and none of us ever shall. Arthur and Quinceywent away together to the station, and Van Helsing andI came on here. The moment we were alone in the car-riage he gave way to a regular fit of hysterics. He hasdenied to me since that it was hysterics, and insisted thatit was only his sense of humor asserting itself under veryterrible conditions. He laughed till he cried, and I hadto draw down the blinds lest any one should see us andmisjudge. And then he cried, till he laughed again, andlaughed and cried together, just as a woman does. I triedto be stern with him, as one is to a woman under the cir-cumstances, but it had no effect. Men and women are sodifferent in manifestations of nervous strength or weak-ness! Then when his face grew grave and stern again I

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asked him why his mirth, and why at such a time. Hisreply was in a way characteristic of him, for it was logicaland forceful and mysterious. He said,

“Ah, you don’t comprehend, friend John. Do not thinkthat I am not sad, though I laugh. See, I have cried evenwhen the laugh did choke me. But no more think that Iam all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just thesame. Keep it always with you that laughter who knockat your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not true laugh-ter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like.He ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say,‘I am here.’ Behold, in example I grieve my heart out forthat so sweet young girl. I give my blood for her, though Iam old and worn. I give my time, my skill, my sleep. I letmy other sufferers want that she may have all. And yet Ican laugh at her very grave, laugh when the clay from thespade of the sexton drop upon her coffin and say ‘Thud,thud!’ to my heart, till it send back the blood from mycheek. My heart bleed for that poor boy, that dear boy, soof the age of mine own boy had I been so blessed that helive, and with his hair and eyes the same.

“There, you know now why I love him so. And yetwhen he say things that touch my husband-heart to thequick, and make my father-heart yearn to him as to no

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other man, not even you, friend John, for we are morelevel in experiences than father and son, yet even at sucha moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and bel-low in my ear, ‘Here I am! Here I am!’ till the blood comedance back and bring some of the sunshine that he carrywith him to my cheek. Oh, friend John, it is a strangeworld, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes,and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he makethem all dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, anddry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as theyfall, all dance together to the music that he make with thatsmileless mouth of him. And believe me, friend John, thathe is good to come, and kind. Ah, we men and womenare like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us dif-ferent ways. Then tears come, and like the rain on theropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain becometoo great, and we break. But King Laugh he come like thesunshine, and he ease off the strain again, and we bear togo on with our labor, what it may be.”

I did not like to wound him by pretending not to seehis idea, but as I did not yet understand the cause of hislaughter, I asked him. As he answered me his face grewstern, and he said in quite a different tone,

“Oh, it was the grim irony of it all, this so lovely lady

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garlanded with flowers, that looked so fair as life, tillone by one we wondered if she were truly dead, she laidin that so fine marble house in that lonely churchyard,where rest so many of her kin, laid there with the motherwho loved her, and whom she loved, and that sacred bellgoing ‘Toll! Toll! Toll!’ so sad and slow, and those holymen, with the white garments of the angel, pretendingto read books, and yet all the time their eyes never onthe page, and all of us with the bowed head. And all forwhat? She is dead, so! Is it not?”

“Well, for the life of me, Professor,” I said, “I can’t seeanything to laugh at in all that. Why, your expressionmakes it a harder puzzle than before. But even if theburial service was comic, what about poor Art and histrouble? Why his heart was simply breaking.”

“Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood toher veins had made her truly his bride?”

“Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him.”

“Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If sothat, then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this sosweet maid is a polyandrist, and me, with my poor wifedead to me, but alive by Church’s law, though no wits,

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all gone, even I, who am faithful husband to this now-no-wife, am bigamist.”

“I don’t see where the joke comes in there either!” Isaid, and I did not feel particularly pleased with him forsaying such things. He laid his hand on my arm, and said,

“Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not myfeeling to others when it would wound, but only to you,my old friend, whom I can trust. If you could have lookedinto my heart then when I want to laugh, if you couldhave done so when the laugh arrived, if you could do sonow, when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and allthat is to him, for he go far, far away from me, and for along, long time, maybe you would perhaps pity me themost of all.”

I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and askedwhy.

“Because I know!”And now we are all scattered, and for many a long day

loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.Lucy lies in the tomb of her kin, a lordly death house ina lonely churchyard, away from teeming London, wherethe air is fresh, and the sun rises over Hampstead Hill,and where wild flowers grow of their own accord.

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So I can finish this diary, and God only knows if I shallever begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, itwill be to deal with different people and different themes,for here at the end, where the romance of my life is told,ere I go back to take up the thread of my life-work, I saysadly and without hope, “FINIS“.

THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER AHAMPSTEAD MYSTERY

The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present ex-ercised with a series of events which seem to run on linesparallel to those of what was known to the writers ofheadlines as “The Kensington Horror,” or “The StabbingWoman,” or “The Woman in Black.” During the pasttwo or three days several cases have occurred of youngchildren straying from home or neglecting to return fromtheir playing on the Heath. In all these cases the chil-dren were too young to give any properly intelligible ac-count of themselves, but the consensus of their excuses isthat they had been with a “bloofer lady.” It has alwaysbeen late in the evening when they have been missed,and on two occasions the children have not been found

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until early in the following morning. It is generally sup-posed in the neighborhood that, as the first child missedgave as his reason for being away that a “bloofer lady”had asked him to come for a walk, the others had pickedup the phrase and used it as occasion served. This is themore natural as the favourite game of the little ones atpresent is luring each other away by wiles. A correspon-dent writes us that to see some of the tiny tots pretendingto be the “bloofer lady” is supremely funny. Some of ourcaricaturists might, he says, take a lesson in the irony ofgrotesque by comparing the reality and the picture. It isonly in accordance with general principles of human na-ture that the “bloofer lady” should be the popular role atthese al fresco performances. Our correspondent naivelysays that even Ellen Terry could not be so winningly at-tractive as some of these grubby-faced little children pre-tend, and even imagine themselves, to be.

There is, however, possibly a serious side to the ques-tion, for some of the children, indeed all who have beenmissed at night, have been slightly torn or wounded inthe throat. The wounds seem such as might be madeby a rat or a small dog, and although of not much im-portance individually, would tend to show that whateveranimal inflicts them has a system or method of its own.

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The police of the division have been instructed to keepa sharp lookout for straying children, especially whenvery young, in and around Hampstead Heath, and forany stray dog which may be about.

THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBEREXTRA SPECIAL

THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR

ANOTHER CHILD INJURED

THE “BLOOFER LADY”

We have just received intelligence that another child,missed last night, was only discovered late in the morn-ing under a furze bush at the Shooter’s Hill side of Hamp-stead Heath, which is perhaps, less frequented than theother parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat ashas been noticed in other cases. It was terribly weak, andlooked quite emaciated. It too, when partially restored,had the common story to tell of being lured away by the“bloofer lady“.

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MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

23 September.–Jonathan is better after a bad night. I amso glad that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps hismind off the terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that heis not now weighed down with the responsibility of hisnew position. I knew he would be true to himself, andnow how proud I am to see my Jonathan rising to theheight of his advancement and keeping pace in all wayswith the duties that come upon him. He will be awayall day till late, for he said he could not lunch at home.My household work is done, so I shall take his foreignjournal, and lock myself up in my room and read it.

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24 September.–I hadn’t the heart to write last night, thatterrible record of Jonathan’s upset me so. Poor dear! Howhe must have suffered, whether it be true or only imagi-nation. I wonder if there is any truth in it at all. Did he gethis brain fever, and then write all those terrible things, orhad he some cause for it all? I suppose I shall never know,for I dare not open the subject to him. And yet that manwe saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain of him, poorfellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and senthis mind back on some train of thought.

He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wed-ding day he said “Unless some solemn duty come uponme to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, mador sane...” There seems to be through it all some threadof continuity. That fearful Count was coming to London.If it should be, and he came to London, with its teemingmillions... There may be a solemn duty, and if it comewe must not shrink from it. I shall be prepared. I shallget my typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing.Then we shall be ready for other eyes if required. And ifit be wanted, then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathanmay not be upset, for I can speak for him and never lethim be troubled or worried with it at all. If ever Jonathanquite gets over the nervousness he may want to tell me

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of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out things,and see how I may comfort him.

LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER

24 September(Confidence)“Dear Madam,“I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so

far friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss LucyWestenra’s death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming,I am empowered to read her letters and papers, for Iam deeply concerned about certain matters vitally impor-tant. In them I find some letters from you, which showhow great friends you were and how you love her. Oh,Madam Mina, by that love, I implore you, help me. It isfor others’ good that I ask, to redress great wrong, andto lift much and terrible troubles, that may be more greatthan you can know. May it be that I see you? You cantrust me. I am friend of Dr. John Seward and of Lord Go-dalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I must keep itprivate for the present from all. I should come to Exeterto see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come,

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and where and when. I implore your pardon, Madam. Ihave read your letters to poor Lucy, and know how goodyou are and how your husband suffer. So I pray you, if itmay be, enlighten him not, least it may harm. Again yourpardon, and forgive me.

“VAN HELSING”

TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING

25 September.–Come today by quarter past ten train ifyou can catch it. Can see you any time you call.

“WILHELMINA HARKER”

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

25 September.–I cannot help feeling terribly excited asthe time draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing,for somehow I expect that it will throw some light uponJonathan’s sad experience, and as he attended poor dearLucy in her last illness, he can tell me all about her. Thatis the reason of his coming. It is concerning Lucy andher sleep-walking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall

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never know the real truth now! How silly I am. Thatawful journal gets hold of my imagination and tinges ev-erything with something of its own colour. Of course it isabout Lucy. That habit came back to the poor dear, andthat awful night on the cliff must have made her ill. Ihad almost forgotten in my own affairs how ill she wasafterwards. She must have told him of her sleep-walkingadventure on the cliff, and that I knew all about it, andnow he wants me to tell him what I know, so that he mayunderstand. I hope I did right in not saying anything ofit to Mrs. Westenra. I should never forgive myself if anyact of mine, were it even a negative one, brought harmon poor dear Lucy. I hope too, Dr. Van Helsing will notblame me. I have had so much trouble and anxiety of latethat I feel I cannot bear more just at present.

I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the airas other rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal yes-terday that upset me, and then Jonathan went away thismorning to stay away from me a whole day and night,the first time we have been parted since our marriage. Ido hope the dear fellow will take care of himself, and thatnothing will occur to upset him. It is two o’clock, andthe doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing ofJonathan’s journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have

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typewritten out my own journal, so that, in case he asksabout Lucy, I can hand it to him. It will save much ques-tioning.

Later.–He has come and gone. Oh, what a strangemeeting, and how it all makes my head whirl round. Ifeel like one in a dream. Can it be all possible, or evena part of it? If I had not read Jonathan’s journal first, Ishould never have accepted even a possibility. Poor, poor,dear Jonathan! How he must have suffered. Please thegood God, all this may not upset him again. I shall try tosave him from it. But it may be even a consolation anda help to him, terrible though it be and awful in its con-sequences, to know for certain that his eyes and ears andbrain did not deceive him, and that it is all true. It maybe that it is the doubt which haunts him, that when thedoubt is removed, no matter which, waking or dreaming,may prove the truth, he will be more satisfied and betterable to bear the shock. Dr. Van Helsing must be a goodman as well as a clever one if he is Arthur’s friend andDr. Seward’s, and if they brought him all the way fromHolland to look after Lucy. I feel from having seen himthat he is good and kind and of a noble nature. Whenhe comes tomorrow I shall ask him about Jonathan. Andthen, please God, all this sorrow and anxiety may lead to

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a good end. I used to think I would like to practice in-terviewing. Jonathan’s friend on “The Exeter News” toldhim that memory is everything in such work, that youmust be able to put down exactly almost every word spo-ken, even if you had to refine some of it afterwards. Herewas a rare interview. I shall try to record it verbatim.

It was half-past two o’clock when the knock came. Itook my courage a deux mains and waited. In a few min-utes Mary opened the door, and announced “Dr. VanHelsing“.

I rose and bowed, and he came towards me, a manof medium weight, strongly built, with his shoulders setback over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balancedon the trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise ofthe head strikes me at once as indicative of thought andpower. The head is noble, well-sized, broad, and largebehind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard,square chin, a large resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sizednose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils,that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows come downand the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad and fine,rising at first almost straight and then sloping back abovetwo bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that thereddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls nat-

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urally back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes are setwidely apart, and are quick and tender or stern with theman’s moods. He said to me,

“Mrs. Harker, is it not?” I bowed assent.

“That was Miss Mina Murray?” Again I assented.

“It is Mina Murray that I came to see that was friend ofthat poor dear child Lucy Westenra. Madam Mina, it ison account of the dead that I come.”

“Sir,” I said, “you could have no better claim on methan that you were a friend and helper of Lucy Westenra.”And I held out my hand. He took it and said tenderly,

“Oh, Madam Mina, I know that the friend of that poorlittle girl must be good, but I had yet to learn...” He fin-ished his speech with a courtly bow. I asked him what itwas that he wanted to see me about, so he at once began.

“I have read your letters to Miss Lucy. Forgive me, but Ihad to begin to inquire somewhere, and there was none toask. I know that you were with her at Whitby. She some-times kept a diary, you need not look surprised, MadamMina. It was begun after you had left, and was an im-itation of you, and in that diary she traces by inferencecertain things to a sleep-walking in which she puts down

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that you saved her. In great perplexity then I come to you,and ask you out of your so much kindness to tell me allof it that you can remember.”

“I can tell you, I think, Dr. Van Helsing, all about it.”

“Ah, then you have good memory for facts, for details?It is not always so with young ladies.”

“No, doctor, but I wrote it all down at the time. I canshow it to you if you like.”

“Oh, Madam Mina, I well be grateful. You will do memuch favour.”

I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him abit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that re-mains still in our mouths, so I handed him the shorthanddiary. He took it with a grateful bow, and said, “May Iread it?”

“If you wish,” I answered as demurely as I could. Heopened it, and for an instant his face fell. Then he stoodup and bowed.

“Oh, you so clever woman!” he said. “I knew longthat Mr. Jonathan was a man of much thankfulness, butsee, his wife have all the good things. And will you not

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so much honour me and so help me as to read it for me?Alas! I know not the shorthand.”

By this time my little joke was over, and I was almostashamed. So I took the typewritten copy from my workbasket and handed it to him.

“Forgive me,” I said. “I could not help it, but I had beenthinking that it was of dear Lucy that you wished to ask,and so that you might not have time to wait, not on myaccount, but because I know your time must be precious,I have written it out on the typewriter for you.”

He took it and his eyes glistened. “You are so good,”he said. “And may I read it now? I may want to ask yousome things when I have read.”

“By all means,” I said, “read it over whilst I orderlunch, and then you can ask me questions whilst we eat.”

He bowed and settled himself in a chair with his backto the light, and became so absorbed in the papers, whilstI went to see after lunch chiefly in order that he might notbe disturbed. When I came back, I found him walkinghurriedly up and down the room, his face all ablaze withexcitement. He rushed up to me and took me by bothhands.

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“Oh, Madam Mina,” he said, “how can I say what Iowe to you? This paper is as sunshine. It opens the gateto me. I am dazed, I am dazzled, with so much light, andyet clouds roll in behind the light every time. But thatyou do not, cannot comprehend. Oh, but I am grateful toyou, you so clever woman. Madame,” he said this verysolemnly, “if ever Abraham Van Helsing can do anythingfor you or yours, I trust you will let me know. It will bepleasure and delight if I may serve you as a friend, as afriend, but all I have ever learned, all I can ever do, shallbe for you and those you love. There are darknesses inlife, and there are lights. You are one of the lights. Youwill have a happy life and a good life, and your husbandwill be blessed in you.”

“But, doctor, you praise me too much, and you do notknow me.”

“Not know you, I, who am old, and who have studiedall my life men and women, I who have made my spe-cialty the brain and all that belongs to him and all thatfollow from him! And I have read your diary that youhave so goodly written for me, and which breathes outtruth in every line. I, who have read your so sweet letterto poor Lucy of your marriage and your trust, not knowyou! Oh, Madam Mina, good women tell all their lives,

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and by day and by hour and by minute, such things thatangels can read. And we men who wish to know have inus something of angels’ eyes. Your husband is noble na-ture, and you are noble too, for you trust, and trust can-not be where there is mean nature. And your husband,tell me of him. Is he quite well? Is all that fever gone, andis he strong and hearty?”

I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so Isaid, “He was almost recovered, but he has been greatlyupset by Mr. Hawkins death.”

He interrupted, “Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have readyour last two letters.”

I went on, “I suppose this upset him, for when we werein town on Thursday last he had a sort of shock.”

“A shock, and after brain fever so soon! That is notgood. What kind of shock was it?”

“He thought he saw some one who recalled somethingterrible, something which led to his brain fever.” Andhere the whole thing seemed to overwhelm me in a rush.The pity for Jonathan, the horror which he experienced,the whole fearful mystery of his diary, and the fear thathas been brooding over me ever since, all came in a tu-mult. I suppose I was hysterical, for I threw myself on

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my knees and held up my hands to him, and imploredhim to make my husband well again. He took my handsand raised me up, and made me sit on the sofa, and satby me. He held my hand in his, and said to me with, oh,such infinite sweetness,

“My life is a barren and lonely one, and so full of workthat I have not had much time for friendships, but since Ihave been summoned to here by my friend John Seward Ihave known so many good people and seen such nobilitythat I feel more than ever, and it has grown with my ad-vancing years, the loneliness of my life. Believe me, then,that I come here full of respect for you, and you havegiven me hope, hope, not in what I am seeking of, butthat there are good women still left to make life happy,good women, whose lives and whose truths may makegood lesson for the children that are to be. I am glad,glad, that I may here be of some use to you. For if yourhusband suffer, he suffer within the range of my studyand experience. I promise you that I will gladly do all forhim that I can, all to make his life strong and manly, andyour life a happy one. Now you must eat. You are over-wrought and perhaps over-anxious. Husband Jonathanwould not like to see you so pale, and what he like notwhere he love, is not to his good. Therefore for his sake

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you must eat and smile. You have told me about Lucy,and so now we shall not speak of it, lest it distress. I shallstay in Exeter tonight, for I want to think much over whatyou have told me, and when I have thought I will ask youquestions, if I may. And then too, you will tell me of hus-band Jonathan’s trouble so far as you can, but not yet.You must eat now, afterwards you shall tell me all.”

After lunch, when we went back to the drawing room,he said to me, “And now tell me all about him.”

When it came to speaking to this great learned man, Ibegan to fear that he would think me a weak fool, andJonathan a madman, that journal is all so strange, and Ihesitated to go on. But he was so sweet and kind, and hehad promised to help, and I trusted him, so I said,

“Dr. Van Helsing, what I have to tell you is so queerthat you must not laugh at me or at my husband. I havebeen since yesterday in a sort of fever of doubt. You mustbe kind to me, and not think me foolish that I have evenhalf believed some very strange things.”

He reassured me by his manner as well as his wordswhen he said, “Oh, my dear, if you only know howstrange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is youwho would laugh. I have learned not to think little of any

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one’s belief, no matter how strange it may be. I have triedto keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary things oflife that could close it, but the strange things, the extraor-dinary things, the things that make one doubt if they bemad or sane.”

“Thank you, thank you a thousand times! You havetaken a weight off my mind. If you will let me, I shall giveyou a paper to read. It is long, but I have typewritten itout. It will tell you my trouble and Jonathan’s. It is thecopy of his journal when abroad, and all that happened.I dare not say anything of it. You will read for yourselfand judge. And then when I see you, perhaps, you willbe very kind and tell me what you think.”

“I promise,” he said as I gave him the papers. “I shallin the morning, as soon as I can, come to see you and yourhusband, if I may.”

“Jonathan will be here at half-past eleven, and youmust come to lunch with us and see him then. Youcould catch the quick 3:34 train, which will leave youat Paddington before eight.” He was surprised at myknowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not knowthat I have made up all the trains to and from Exeter, sothat I may help Jonathan in case he is in a hurry.

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So he took the papers with him and went away, and Isit here thinking, thinking I don’t know what.

LETTER (by hand), VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER

25 September, 6 o’clock

“Dear Madam Mina,

“I have read your husband’s so wonderful diary. Youmay sleep without doubt. Strange and terrible as it is, itis true! I will pledge my life on it. It may be worse forothers, but for him and you there is no dread. He is anoble fellow, and let me tell you from experience of men,that one who would do as he did in going down that walland to that room, aye, and going a second time, is not oneto be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain andhis heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seenhim, so be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of otherthings. I am blessed that today I come to see you, for Ihave learn all at once so much that again I am dazzled,dazzled more than ever, and I must think.

“Yours the most faithful,

“Abraham Van Helsing.”

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LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING

25 September, 6:30 P.M.“My dear Dr. Van Helsing,“A thousand thanks for your kind letter, which has

taken a great weight off my mind. And yet, if it be true,what terrible things there are in the world, and what anawful thing if that man, that monster, be really in Lon-don! I fear to think. I have this moment, whilst writing,had a wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by the6:25 tonight from Launceston and will be here at 10:18,so that I shall have no fear tonight. Will you, therefore,instead of lunching with us, please come to breakfast ateight o’clock, if this be not too early for you? You canget away, if you are in a hurry, by the 10:30 train, whichwill bring you to Paddington by 2:35. Do not answer this,as I shall take it that, if I do not hear, you will come tobreakfast.

“Believe me,“Your faithful and grateful friend,“Mina Harker.”

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

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26 September.–I thought never to write in this diaryagain, but the time has come. When I got home last nightMina had supper ready, and when we had supped shetold me of Van Helsing’s visit, and of her having givenhim the two diaries copied out, and of how anxious shehas been about me. She showed me in the doctor’s letterthat all I wrote down was true. It seems to have made anew man of me. It was the doubt as to the reality of thewhole thing that knocked me over. I felt impotent, andin the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I know, I amnot afraid, even of the Count. He has succeeded after all,then, in his design in getting to London, and it was he Isaw. He has got younger, and how? Van Helsing is theman to unmask him and hunt him out, if he is anythinglike what Mina says. We sat late, and talked it over. Minais dressing, and I shall call at the hotel in a few minutesand bring him over.

He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I cameinto the room where he was, and introduced myself, hetook me by the shoulder, and turned my face round tothe light, and said, after a sharp scrutiny,

“But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you hadhad a shock.”

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It was so funny to hear my wife called ‘Madam Mina’by this kindly, strong-faced old man. I smiled, and said,“I was ill, I have had a shock, but you have cured mealready.”

“And how?”“By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and

then everything took a hue of unreality, and I did notknow what to trust, even the evidence of my own senses.Not knowing what to trust, I did not know what to do,and so had only to keep on working in what had hithertobeen the groove of my life. The groove ceased to avail me,and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don’t know what itis to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don’t, youcouldn’t with eyebrows like yours.”

He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said, “So! Youare a physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour.I am with so much pleasure coming to you to breakfast,and, oh, sir, you will pardon praise from an old man, butyou are blessed in your wife.”

I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, soI simply nodded and stood silent.

“She is one of God’s women, fashioned by His ownhand to show us men and other women that there is a

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heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be hereon earth. So true, so sweet, so noble, so little an egoist,and that, let me tell you, is much in this age, so scepti-cal and selfish. And you, sir... I have read all the lettersto poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so Iknow you since some days from the knowing of others,but I have seen your true self since last night. You willgive me your hand, will you not? And let us be friendsfor all our lives.”

We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kindthat it made me quite choky.

“And now,” he said, “may I ask you for some morehelp? I have a great task to do, and at the beginning itis to know. You can help me here. Can you tell me whatwent before your going to Transylvania? Later on I mayask more help, and of a different kind, but at first this willdo.”

“Look here, Sir,” I said, “does what you have to do con-cern the Count?”

“It does,” he said solemnly.

“Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go bythe 10:30 train, you will not have time to read them, but

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I shall get the bundle of papers. You can take them withyou and read them in the train.”

After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we wereparting he said, “Perhaps you will come to town if I sendfor you, and take Madam Mina too.”

“We shall both come when you will,” I said.I had got him the morning papers and the London pa-

pers of the previous night, and while we were talking atthe carriage window, waiting for the train to start, he wasturning them over. His eyes suddenly seemed to catchsomething in one of them, “The Westminster Gazette“,I knew it by the colour, and he grew quite white. Heread something intently, groaning to himself, “Mein Gott!Mein Gott! So soon! So soon!” I do not think he remem-bered me at the moment. Just then the whistle blew, andthe train moved off. This recalled him to himself, and heleaned out of the window and waved his hand, callingout, “Love to Madam Mina. I shall write so soon as everI can.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

26 September.–Truly there is no such thing as finality.Not a week since I said “Finis,” and yet here I am starting

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fresh again, or rather going on with the record. Until thisafternoon I had no cause to think of what is done. Ren-field had become, to all intents, as sane as he ever was. Hewas already well ahead with his fly business, and he hadjust started in the spider line also, so he had not been ofany trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur, written onSunday, and from it I gather that he is bearing up won-derfully well. Quincey Morris is with him, and that ismuch of a help, for he himself is a bubbling well of goodspirits. Quincey wrote me a line too, and from him I hearthat Arthur is beginning to recover something of his oldbuoyancy, so as to them all my mind is at rest. As for my-self, I was settling down to my work with the enthusiasmwhich I used to have for it, so that I might fairly have saidthat the wound which poor Lucy left on me was becom-ing cicatrised.

Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is tobe the end God only knows. I have an idea that Van Hels-ing thinks he knows, too, but he will only let out enoughat a time to whet curiosity. He went to Exeter yester-day, and stayed there all night. Today he came back,and almost bounded into the room at about half-pastfive o’clock, and thrust last night’s “Westminster Gazette”into my hand.

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“What do you think of that?” he asked as he stood backand folded his arms.

I looked over the paper, for I really did not know whathe meant, but he took it from me and pointed out a para-graph about children being decoyed away at Hampstead.It did not convey much to me, until I reached a pas-sage where it described small puncture wounds on theirthroats. An idea struck me, and I looked up.

“Well?” he said.

“It is like poor Lucy’s.”

“And what do you make of it?”

“Simply that there is some cause in common. Whateverit was that injured her has injured them.” I did not quiteunderstand his answer.

“That is true indirectly, but not directly.”

“How do you mean, Professor?” I asked. I was a littleinclined to take his seriousness lightly, for, after all, fourdays of rest and freedom from burning, harrowing, anxi-ety does help to restore one’s spirits, but when I saw hisface, it sobered me. Never, even in the midst of our de-spair about poor Lucy, had he looked more stern.

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“Tell me!” I said. “I can hazard no opinion. I do notknow what to think, and I have no data on which to founda conjecture.”

“Do you mean to tell me, friend John, that you have nosuspicion as to what poor Lucy died of, not after all thehints given, not only by events, but by me?”

“Of nervous prostration following a great loss or wasteof blood.”

“And how was the blood lost or wasted?” I shook myhead.

He stepped over and sat down beside me, and went on,“You are a clever man, friend John. You reason well, andyour wit is bold, but you are too prejudiced. You do notlet your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is out-side your daily life is not of account to you. Do you notthink that there are things which you cannot understand,and yet which are, that some people see things that oth-ers cannot? But there are things old and new which mustnot be contemplated by men’s eyes, because they know,or think they know, some things which other men havetold them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants toexplain all, and if it explain not, then it says there is noth-ing to explain. But yet we see around us every day the

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growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new, andwhich are yet but the old, which pretend to be young,like the fine ladies at the opera. I suppose now you donot believe in corporeal transference. No? Nor in mate-rialization. No? Nor in astral bodies. No? Nor in thereading of thought. No? Nor in hypnotism...”

“Yes,” I said. “Charcot has proved that pretty well.”He smiled as he went on, “Then you are satisfied as to

it. Yes? And of course then you understand how it act,and can follow the mind of the great Charcot, alas thathe is no more, into the very soul of the patient that he in-fluence. No? Then, friend John, am I to take it that yousimply accept fact, and are satisfied to let from premiseto conclusion be a blank? No? Then tell me, for I am astudent of the brain, how you accept hypnotism and re-ject the thought reading. Let me tell you, my friend, thatthere are things done today in electrical science whichwould have been deemed unholy by the very man whodiscovered electricity, who would themselves not so longbefore been burned as wizards. There are always myster-ies in life. Why was it that Methuselah lived nine hun-dred years, and ‘Old Parr’ one hundred and sixty-nine,and yet that poor Lucy, with four men’s blood in her poorveins, could not live even one day? For, had she live one

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more day, we could save her. Do you know all the mys-tery of life and death? Do you know the altogether ofcomparative anatomy and can say wherefore the quali-ties of brutes are in some men, and not in others? Canyou tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon,that one great spider lived for centuries in the tower ofthe old Spanish church and grew and grew, till, on de-scending, he could drink the oil of all the church lamps?Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and elsewhere,there are bats that come out at night and open the veinsof cattle and horses and suck dry their veins, how in someislands of the Western seas there are bats which hang onthe trees all day, and those who have seen describe as likegiant nuts or pods, and that when the sailors sleep on thedeck, because that it is hot, flit down on them and then,and then in the morning are found dead men, white aseven Miss Lucy was?”

“Good God, Professor!” I said, starting up. “Do youmean to tell me that Lucy was bitten by such a bat, andthat such a thing is here in London in the nineteenth cen-tury?”

He waved his hand for silence, and went on, “Can youtell me why the tortoise lives more long than generationsof men, why the elephant goes on and on till he have

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sees dynasties, and why the parrot never die only of biteof cat of dog or other complaint? Can you tell me whymen believe in all ages and places that there are men andwomen who cannot die? We all know, because sciencehas vouched for the fact, that there have been toads shutup in rocks for thousands of years, shut in one so smallhole that only hold him since the youth of the world.Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himselfto die and have been buried, and his grave sealed andcorn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut andsown and reaped and cut again, and then men come andtake away the unbroken seal and that there lie the Indianfakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst themas before?”

Here I interrupted him. I was getting bewildered. Heso crowded on my mind his list of nature’s eccentricitiesand possible impossibilities that my imagination was get-ting fired. I had a dim idea that he was teaching me somelesson, as long ago he used to do in his study at Amster-dam. But he used them to tell me the thing, so that I couldhave the object of thought in mind all the time. But nowI was without his help, yet I wanted to follow him, so Isaid,

“Professor, let me be your pet student again. Tell me

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the thesis, so that I may apply your knowledge as yougo on. At present I am going in my mind from point topoint as a madman, and not a sane one, follows an idea.I feel like a novice lumbering through a bog in a midst,jumping from one tussock to another in the mere blindeffort to move on without knowing where I am going.”

“That is a good image,” he said. “Well, I shall tell you.My thesis is this, I want you to believe.”

“To believe what?”“To believe in things that you cannot. Let me illus-

trate. I heard once of an American who so defined faith,‘that faculty which enables us to believe things which weknow to be untrue.’ For one, I follow that man. He meantthat we shall have an open mind, and not let a little bit oftruth check the rush of the big truth, like a small rock doesa railway truck. We get the small truth first. Good! Wekeep him, and we value him, but all the same we mustnot let him think himself all the truth in the universe.”

“Then you want me not to let some previous convic-tion inure the receptivity of my mind with regard to somestrange matter. Do I read your lesson aright?”

“Ah, you are my favourite pupil still. It is worth toteach you. Now that you are willing to understand, you

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have taken the first step to understand. You think thenthat those so small holes in the children’s throats weremade by the same that made the holes in Miss Lucy?”

“I suppose so.”He stood up and said solemnly, “Then you are wrong.

Oh, would it were so! But alas! No. It is worse, far, farworse.”

“In God’s name, Professor Van Helsing, what do youmean?” I cried.

He threw himself with a despairing gesture into a chair,and placed his elbows on the table, covering his face withhis hands as he spoke.

“They were made by Miss Lucy!”

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY–cont.

For a while sheer anger mastered me. It was as if hehad during her life struck Lucy on the face. I smote thetable hard and rose up as I said to him, “Dr. Van Helsing,are you mad?”

He raised his head and looked at me, and somehowthe tenderness of his face calmed me at once. “Would Iwere!” he said. “Madness were easy to bear comparedwith truth like this. Oh, my friend, why, think you, didI go so far round, why take so long to tell so simple athing? Was it because I hate you and have hated you all

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my life? Was it because I wished to give you pain? Wasit that I wanted, now so late, revenge for that time whenyou saved my life, and from a fearful death? Ah no!”

“Forgive me,” said I.He went on, “My friend, it was because I wished to be

gentle in the breaking to you, for I know you have lovedthat so sweet lady. But even yet I do not expect you tobelieve. It is so hard to accept at once any abstract truth,that we may doubt such to be possible when we have al-ways believed the ‘no’ of it. It is more hard still to acceptso sad a concrete truth, and of such a one as Miss Lucy.Tonight I go to prove it. Dare you come with me?”

This staggered me. A man does not like to prove sucha truth, Byron excepted from the category, jealousy.

“And prove the very truth he most abhorred.”He saw my hesitation, and spoke, “The logic is sim-

ple, no madman’s logic this time, jumping from tussockto tussock in a misty bog. If it not be true, then proof willbe relief. At worst it will not harm. If it be true! Ah, thereis the dread. Yet every dread should help my cause, forin it is some need of belief. Come, I tell you what I pro-pose. First, that we go off now and see that child in thehospital. Dr. Vincent, of the North Hospital, where the

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papers say the child is, is a friend of mine, and I think ofyours since you were in class at Amsterdam. He will lettwo scientists see his case, if he will not let two friends.We shall tell him nothing, but only that we wish to learn.And then...”

“And then?”He took a key from his pocket and held it up. “And

then we spend the night, you and I, in the churchyardwhere Lucy lies. This is the key that lock the tomb. I hadit from the coffin man to give to Arthur.”

My heart sank within me, for I felt that there was somefearful ordeal before us. I could do nothing, however, so Iplucked up what heart I could and said that we had betterhasten, as the afternoon was passing.

We found the child awake. It had had a sleep and takensome food, and altogether was going on well. Dr. Vin-cent took the bandage from its throat, and showed us thepunctures. There was no mistaking the similarity to thosewhich had been on Lucy’s throat. They were smaller, andthe edges looked fresher, that was all. We asked Vincentto what he attributed them, and he replied that it musthave been a bite of some animal, perhaps a rat, but forhis own part, he was inclined to think it was one of the

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bats which are so numerous on the northern heights ofLondon. “Out of so many harmless ones,” he said, “theremay be some wild specimen from the South of a moremalignant species. Some sailor may have brought onehome, and it managed to escape, or even from the Zo-ological Gardens a young one may have got loose, or onebe bred there from a vampire. These things do occur, you,know. Only ten days ago a wolf got out, and was, I be-lieve, traced up in this direction. For a week after, thechildren were playing nothing but Red Riding Hood onthe Heath and in every alley in the place until this ‘blooferlady’ scare came along, since then it has been quite a galatime with them. Even this poor little mite, when he wokeup today, asked the nurse if he might go away. When sheasked him why he wanted to go, he said he wanted toplay with the ‘bloofer lady’.”

“I hope,” said Van Helsing, “that when you are sendingthe child home you will caution its parents to keep strictwatch over it. These fancies to stray are most dangerous,and if the child were to remain out another night, it wouldprobably be fatal. But in any case I suppose you will notlet it away for some days?”

“Certainly not, not for a week at least, longer if thewound is not healed.”

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Our visit to the hospital took more time than we hadreckoned on, and the sun had dipped before we came out.When Van Helsing saw how dark it was, he said,

“There is not hurry. It is more late than I thought.Come, let us seek somewhere that we may eat, and thenwe shall go on our way.”

We dined at ‘Jack Straw’s Castle’ along with a littlecrowd of bicyclists and others who were genially noisy.About ten o’clock we started from the inn. It was thenvery dark, and the scattered lamps made the darknessgreater when we were once outside their individual ra-dius. The Professor had evidently noted the road we wereto go, for he went on unhesitatingly, but, as for me, I wasin quite a mixup as to locality. As we went further, wemet fewer and fewer people, till at last we were some-what surprised when we met even the patrol of horse po-lice going their usual suburban round. At last we reachedthe wall of the churchyard, which we climbed over. Withsome little difficulty, for it was very dark, and the wholeplace seemed so strange to us, we found the Westenratomb. The Professor took the key, opened the creaky door,and standing back, politely, but quite unconsciously, mo-tioned me to precede him. There was a delicious irony inthe offer, in the courtliness of giving preference on such

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a ghastly occasion. My companion followed me quickly,and cautiously drew the door to, after carefully ascertain-ing that the lock was a falling, and not a spring one. Inthe latter case we should have been in a bad plight. Thenhe fumbled in his bag, and taking out a matchbox anda piece of candle, proceeded to make a light. The tombin the daytime, and when wreathed with fresh flowers,had looked grim and gruesome enough, but now, somedays afterwards, when the flowers hung lank and dead,their whites turning to rust and their greens to browns,when the spider and the beetle had resumed their ac-customed dominance, when the time-discoloured stone,and dust-encrusted mortar, and rusty, dank iron, and tar-nished brass, and clouded silver-plating gave back thefeeble glimmer of a candle, the effect was more miserableand sordid than could have been imagined. It conveyedirresistibly the idea that life, animal life, was not the onlything which could pass away.

Van Helsing went about his work systematically. Hold-ing his candle so that he could read the coffin plates, andso holding it that the sperm dropped in white patcheswhich congealed as they touched the metal, he made as-surance of Lucy’s coffin. Another search in his bag, andhe took out a turnscrew.

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“What are you going to do?” I asked.“To open the coffin. You shall yet be convinced.”Straightway he began taking out the screws, and finally

lifted off the lid, showing the casing of lead beneath. Thesight was almost too much for me. It seemed to be asmuch an affront to the dead as it would have been to havestripped off her clothing in her sleep whilst living. I actu-ally took hold of his hand to stop him.

He only said, “You shall see,” and again fumbling inhis bag took out a tiny fret saw. Striking the turnscrewthrough the lead with a swift downward stab, whichmade me wince, he made a small hole, which was, how-ever, big enough to admit the point of the saw. I had ex-pected a rush of gas from the week-old corpse. We doc-tors, who have had to study our dangers, have to becomeaccustomed to such things, and I drew back towards thedoor. But the Professor never stopped for a moment. Hesawed down a couple of feet along one side of the leadcoffin, and then across, and down the other side. Tak-ing the edge of the loose flange, he bent it back towardsthe foot of the coffin, and holding up the candle into theaperture, motioned to me to look.

I drew near and looked. The coffin was empty. It was

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certainly a surprise to me, and gave me a considerableshock, but Van Helsing was unmoved. He was now moresure than ever of his ground, and so emboldened to pro-ceed in his task. “Are you satisfied now, friend John?” heasked.

I felt all the dogged argumentativeness of my natureawake within me as I answered him, “I am satisfied thatLucy’s body is not in that coffin, but that only proves onething.”

“And what is that, friend John?”“That it is not there.”“That is good logic,” he said, “so far as it goes. But how

do you, how can you, account for it not being there?”“Perhaps a body-snatcher,” I suggested. “Some of the

undertaker’s people may have stolen it.” I felt that I wasspeaking folly, and yet it was the only real cause which Icould suggest.

The Professor sighed. “Ah well!” he said, “we musthave more proof. Come with me.”

He put on the coffin lid again, gathered up all his thingsand placed them in the bag, blew out the light, and placedthe candle also in the bag. We opened the door, and went

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out. Behind us he closed the door and locked it. Hehanded me the key, saying, “Will you keep it? You hadbetter be assured.”

I laughed, it was not a very cheerful laugh, I am boundto say, as I motioned him to keep it. “A key is nothing,”I said, “there are many duplicates, and anyhow it is notdifficult to pick a lock of this kind.”

He said nothing, but put the key in his pocket. Then hetold me to watch at one side of the churchyard whilst hewould watch at the other.

I took up my place behind a yew tree, and I saw hisdark figure move until the intervening headstones andtrees hid it from my sight.

It was a lonely vigil. Just after I had taken my place Iheard a distant clock strike twelve, and in time came oneand two. I was chilled and unnerved, and angry withthe Professor for taking me on such an errand and withmyself for coming. I was too cold and too sleepy to bekeenly observant, and not sleepy enough to betray mytrust, so altogether I had a dreary, miserable time.

Suddenly, as I turned round, I thought I saw somethinglike a white streak, moving between two dark yew trees atthe side of the churchyard farthest from the tomb. At the

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same time a dark mass moved from the Professor’s sideof the ground, and hurriedly went towards it. Then I toomoved, but I had to go round headstones and railed-offtombs, and I stumbled over graves. The sky was over-cast, and somewhere far off an early cock crew. A littleways off, beyond a line of scattered juniper trees, whichmarked the pathway to the church, a white dim figure flit-ted in the direction of the tomb. The tomb itself was hid-den by trees, and I could not see where the figure had dis-appeared. I heard the rustle of actual movement where Ihad first seen the white figure, and coming over, foundthe Professor holding in his arms a tiny child. When hesaw me he held it out to me, and said, “Are you satisfiednow?”

“No,” I said, in a way that I felt was aggressive.“Do you not see the child?”“Yes, it is a child, but who brought it here? And is it

wounded?”“We shall see,” said the Professor, and with one im-

pulse we took our way out of the churchyard, he carryingthe sleeping child.

When we had got some little distance away, we wentinto a clump of trees, and struck a match, and looked at

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the child’s throat. It was without a scratch or scar of anykind.

“Was I right?” I asked triumphantly.“We were just in time,” said the Professor thankfully.We had now to decide what we were to do with the

child, and so consulted about it. If we were to take it to apolice station we should have to give some account of ourmovements during the night. At least, we should havehad to make some statement as to how we had come tofind the child. So finally we decided that we would takeit to the Heath, and when we heard a policeman com-ing, would leave it where he could not fail to find it. Wewould then seek our way home as quickly as we could.All fell out well. At the edge of Hampstead Heath weheard a policeman’s heavy tramp, and laying the childon the pathway, we waited and watched until he saw itas he flashed his lantern to and fro. We heard his excla-mation of astonishment, and then we went away silently.By good chance we got a cab near the ‘Spainiards,’ anddrove to town.

I cannot sleep, so I make this entry. But I must try toget a few hours’ sleep, as Van Helsing is to call for me atnoon. He insists that I go with him on another expedition.

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27 September.–It was two o’clock before we found asuitable opportunity for our attempt. The funeral heldat noon was all completed, and the last stragglers of themourners had taken themselves lazily away, when, look-ing carefully from behind a clump of alder trees, we sawthe sexton lock the gate after him. We knew that we weresafe till morning did we desire it, but the Professor toldme that we should not want more than an hour at most.Again I felt that horrid sense of the reality of things, inwhich any effort of imagination seemed out of place, andI realized distinctly the perils of the law which we wereincurring in our unhallowed work. Besides, I felt it wasall so useless. Outrageous as it was to open a leaden cof-fin, to see if a woman dead nearly a week were reallydead, it now seemed the height of folly to open the tombagain, when we knew, from the evidence of our own eye-sight, that the coffin was empty. I shrugged my shoul-ders, however, and rested silent, for Van Helsing had away of going on his own road, no matter who remon-strated. He took the key, opened the vault, and againcourteously motioned me to precede. The place was notso gruesome as last night, but oh, how unutterably meanlooking when the sunshine streamed in. Van Helsingwalked over to Lucy’s coffin, and I followed. He bent

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over and again forced back the leaden flange, and a shockof surprise and dismay shot through me.

There lay Lucy, seemingly just as we had seen her thenight before her funeral. She was, if possible, more radi-antly beautiful than ever, and I could not believe that shewas dead. The lips were red, nay redder than before, andon the cheeks was a delicate bloom.

“Is this a juggle?” I said to him.

“Are you convinced now?” said the Professor, in re-sponse, and as he spoke he put over his hand, and in away that made me shudder, pulled back the dead lipsand showed the white teeth. “See,” he went on, “theyare even sharper than before. With this and this,” and hetouched one of the canine teeth and that below it, “the lit-tle children can be bitten. Are you of belief now, friendJohn?”

Once more argumentative hostility woke within me. Icould not accept such an overwhelming idea as he sug-gested. So, with an attempt to argue of which I waseven at the moment ashamed, I said, “She may have beenplaced here since last night.”

“Indeed? That is so, and by whom?”

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“I do not know. Someone has done it.”

“And yet she has been dead one week. Most peoplesin that time would not look so.”

I had no answer for this, so was silent. Van Helsing didnot seem to notice my silence. At any rate, he showed nei-ther chagrin nor triumph. He was looking intently at theface of the dead woman, raising the eyelids and lookingat the eyes, and once more opening the lips and examin-ing the teeth. Then he turned to me and said,

“Here, there is one thing which is different from allrecorded. Here is some dual life that is not as the com-mon. She was bitten by the vampire when she was ina trance, sleep-walking, oh, you start. You do not knowthat, friend John, but you shall know it later, and in trancecould he best come to take more blood. In trance she dies,and in trance she is UnDead, too. So it is that she differfrom all other. Usually when the UnDead sleep at home,”as he spoke he made a comprehensive sweep of his armto designate what to a vampire was ‘home’, “their faceshow what they are, but this so sweet that was when shenot UnDead she go back to the nothings of the commondead. There is no malign there, see, and so it make hardthat I must kill her in her sleep.”

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This turned my blood cold, and it began to dawn uponme that I was accepting Van Helsing’s theories. But if shewere really dead, what was there of terror in the idea ofkilling her?

He looked up at me, and evidently saw the change inmy face, for he said almost joyously, “Ah, you believenow?”

I answered, “Do not press me too hard all at once. I amwilling to accept. How will you do this bloody work?”

“I shall cut off her head and fill her mouth with garlic,and I shall drive a stake through her body.”

It made me shudder to think of so mutilating the bodyof the woman whom I had loved. And yet the feeling wasnot so strong as I had expected. I was, in fact, beginningto shudder at the presence of this being, this UnDead, asVan Helsing called it, and to loathe it. Is it possible thatlove is all subjective, or all objective?

I waited a considerable time for Van Helsing to be-gin, but he stood as if wrapped in thought. Presently heclosed the catch of his bag with a snap, and said,

“I have been thinking, and have made up my mindas to what is best. If I did simply follow my inclining

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I would do now, at this moment, what is to be done.But there are other things to follow, and things that arethousand times more difficult in that them we do notknow. This is simple. She have yet no life taken, thoughthat is of time, and to act now would be to take dangerfrom her forever. But then we may have to want Arthur,and how shall we tell him of this? If you, who saw thewounds on Lucy’s throat, and saw the wounds so similaron the child’s at the hospital, if you, who saw the coffinempty last night and full today with a woman who havenot change only to be more rose and more beautiful in awhole week, after she die, if you know of this and knowof the white figure last night that brought the child to thechurchyard, and yet of your own senses you did not be-lieve, how then, can I expect Arthur, who know none ofthose things, to believe?

“He doubted me when I took him from her kiss whenshe was dying. I know he has forgiven me because insome mistaken idea I have done things that prevent himsay goodbye as he ought, and he may think that in somemore mistaken idea this woman was buried alive, andthat in most mistake of all we have killed her. He willthen argue back that it is we, mistaken ones, that havekilled her by our ideas, and so he will be much unhappy

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always. Yet he never can be sure, and that is the worst ofall. And he will sometimes think that she he loved wasburied alive, and that will paint his dreams with horrorsof what she must have suffered, and again, he will thinkthat we may be right, and that his so beloved was, af-ter all, an UnDead. No! I told him once, and since thenI learn much. Now, since I know it is all true, a hun-dred thousand times more do I know that he must passthrough the bitter waters to reach the sweet. He, poor fel-low, must have one hour that will make the very face ofheaven grow black to him, then we can act for good allround and send him peace. My mind is made up. Letus go. You return home for tonight to your asylum, andsee that all be well. As for me, I shall spend the nighthere in this churchyard in my own way. Tomorrow nightyou will come to me to the Berkeley Hotel at ten of theclock. I shall send for Arthur to come too, and also thatso fine young man of America that gave his blood. Laterwe shall all have work to do. I come with you so far asPiccadilly and there dine, for I must be back here beforethe sun set.”

So we locked the tomb and came away, and got overthe wall of the churchyard, which was not much of a task,and drove back to Piccadilly.

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NOTE LEFT BY VAN HELSING IN HISPORTMANTEAU, BERKELEY HOTEL DIRECTED TO

JOHN SEWARD, M. D. (Not Delivered)

27 September

“Friend John,

“I write this in case anything should happen. I go aloneto watch in that churchyard. It pleases me that the Un-Dead, Miss Lucy, shall not leave tonight, that so on themorrow night she may be more eager. Therefore I shall fixsome things she like not, garlic and a crucifix, and so sealup the door of the tomb. She is young as UnDead, andwill heed. Moreover, these are only to prevent her com-ing out. They may not prevail on her wanting to get in, forthen the UnDead is desperate, and must find the line ofleast resistance, whatsoever it may be. I shall be at handall the night from sunset till after sunrise, and if there beaught that may be learned I shall learn it. For Miss Lucyor from her, I have no fear, but that other to whom is therethat she is UnDead, he have not the power to seek hertomb and find shelter. He is cunning, as I know from Mr.Jonathan and from the way that all along he have fooledus when he played with us for Miss Lucy’s life, and we

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lost, and in many ways the UnDead are strong. He havealways the strength in his hand of twenty men, even wefour who gave our strength to Miss Lucy it also is all tohim. Besides, he can summon his wolf and I know notwhat. So if it be that he came thither on this night he shallfind me. But none other shall, until it be too late. Butit may be that he will not attempt the place. There is noreason why he should. His hunting ground is more fullof game than the churchyard where the UnDead womansleeps, and the one old man watch.

“Therefore I write this in case... Take the papers thatare with this, the diaries of Harker and the rest, and readthem, and then find this great UnDead, and cut off hishead and burn his heart or drive a stake through it, sothat the world may rest from him.

“If it be so, farewell.“VAN HELSING.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

28 September.–It is wonderful what a good night’ssleep will do for one. Yesterday I was almost willingto accept Van Helsing’s monstrous ideas, but now they

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seem to start out lurid before me as outrages on commonsense. I have no doubt that he believes it all. I wonder ifhis mind can have become in any way unhinged. Surelythere must be some rational explanation of all these mys-terious things. Is it possible that the Professor can havedone it himself? He is so abnormally clever that if he wentoff his head he would carry out his intent with regard tosome fixed idea in a wonderful way. I am loathe to thinkit, and indeed it would be almost as great a marvel asthe other to find that Van Helsing was mad, but anyhowI shall watch him carefully. I may get some light on themystery.

29 September.–Last night, at a little before ten o’clock,Arthur and Quincey came into Van Helsing’s room. Hetold us all what he wanted us to do, but especially ad-dressing himself to Arthur, as if all our wills were centredin his. He began by saying that he hoped we would allcome with him too, “for,” he said, “there is a grave dutyto be done there. You were doubtless surprised at myletter?” This query was directly addressed to Lord Go-dalming.

“I was. It rather upset me for a bit. There has beenso much trouble around my house of late that I could dowithout any more. I have been curious, too, as to what

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you mean.“Quincey and I talked it over, but the more we talked,

the more puzzled we got, till now I can say for myself thatI’m about up a tree as to any meaning about anything.”

“Me too,” said Quincey Morris laconically.“Oh,” said the Professor, “then you are nearer the be-

ginning, both of you, than friend John here, who has to goa long way back before he can even get so far as to begin.”

It was evident that he recognized my return to myold doubting frame of mind without my saying a word.Then, turning to the other two, he said with intense grav-ity,

“I want your permission to do what I think good thisnight. It is, I know, much to ask, and when you knowwhat it is I propose to do you will know, and only thenhow much. Therefore may I ask that you promise me inthe dark, so that afterwards, though you may be angrywith me for a time, I must not disguise from myself thepossibility that such may be, you shall not blame your-selves for anything.”

“That’s frank anyhow,” broke in Quincey. “I’ll answerfor the Professor. I don’t quite see his drift, but I swearhe’s honest, and that’s good enough for me.”

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“I thank you, Sir,” said Van Helsing proudly. “I havedone myself the honour of counting you one trustingfriend, and such endorsement is dear to me.” He heldout a hand, which Quincey took.

Then Arthur spoke out, “Dr. Van Helsing, I don’t quitelike to ‘buy a pig in a poke’, as they say in Scotland, andif it be anything in which my honour as a gentleman ormy faith as a Christian is concerned, I cannot make such apromise. If you can assure me that what you intend doesnot violate either of these two, then I give my consent atonce, though for the life of me, I cannot understand whatyou are driving at.”

“I accept your limitation,” said Van Helsing, “and all Iask of you is that if you feel it necessary to condemn anyact of mine, you will first consider it well and be satisfiedthat it does not violate your reservations.”

“Agreed!” said Arthur. “That is only fair. And nowthat the pourparlers are over, may I ask what it is we areto do?”

“I want you to come with me, and to come in secret, tothe churchyard at Kingstead.”

Arthur’s face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way,

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“Where poor Lucy is buried?”The Professor bowed.Arthur went on, “And when there?”“To enter the tomb!”Arthur stood up. “Professor, are you in earnest, or

is it some monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that youare in earnest.” He sat down again, but I could see thathe sat firmly and proudly, as one who is on his dignity.There was silence until he asked again, “And when in thetomb?”

“To open the coffin.”“This is too much!” he said, angrily rising again. “I am

willing to be patient in all things that are reasonable, butin this, this desecration of the grave, of one who...” Hefairly choked with indignation.

The Professor looked pityingly at him. “If I could spareyou one pang, my poor friend,” he said, “God knows Iwould. But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths,or later, and for ever, the feet you love must walk in pathsof flame!”

Arthur looked up with set white face and said, “Takecare, sir, take care!”

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“Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?” saidVan Helsing. “And then you will at least know the limitof my purpose. Shall I go on?”

“That’s fair enough,” broke in Morris.After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an

effort, “Miss Lucy is dead, is it not so? Yes! Then therecan be no wrong to her. But if she be not dead...”

Arthur jumped to his feet, “Good God!” he cried.“What do you mean? Has there been any mistake, hasshe been buried alive?” He groaned in anguish that noteven hope could soften.

“I did not say she was alive, my child. I did not thinkit. I go no further than to say that she might be UnDead.”

“UnDead! Not alive! What do you mean? Is this all anightmare, or what is it?”

“There are mysteries which men can only guess at,which age by age they may solve only in part. Believeme, we are now on the verge of one. But I have not done.May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?”

“Heavens and earth, no!” cried Arthur in a storm ofpassion. “Not for the wide world will I consent to anymutilation of her dead body. Dr. Van Helsing, you try me

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too far. What have I done to you that you should tortureme so? What did that poor, sweet girl do that you shouldwant to cast such dishonour on her grave? Are you mad,that you speak of such things, or am I mad to listen tothem? Don’t dare think more of such a desecration. Ishall not give my consent to anything you do. I have aduty to do in protecting her grave from outrage, and byGod, I shall do it!”

Van Helsing rose up from where he had all the timebeen seated, and said, gravely and sternly, “My Lord Go-dalming, I too, have a duty to do, a duty to others, a dutyto you, a duty to the dead, and by God, I shall do it! All Iask you now is that you come with me, that you look andlisten, and if when later I make the same request you donot be more eager for its fulfillment even than I am, then,I shall do my duty, whatever it may seem to me. Andthen, to follow your Lordship’s wishes I shall hold myselfat your disposal to render an account to you, when andwhere you will.” His voice broke a little, and he went onwith a voice full of pity.

“But I beseech you, do not go forth in anger with me.In a long life of acts which were often not pleasant to do,and which sometimes did wring my heart, I have neverhad so heavy a task as now. Believe me that if the time

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comes for you to change your mind towards me, one lookfrom you will wipe away all this so sad hour, for I woulddo what a man can to save you from sorrow. Just think.For why should I give myself so much labor and so muchof sorrow? I have come here from my own land to dowhat I can of good, at the first to please my friend John,and then to help a sweet young lady, whom too, I cometo love. For her, I am ashamed to say so much, but I say itin kindness, I gave what you gave, the blood of my veins.I gave it, I who was not, like you, her lover, but only herphysician and her friend. I gave her my nights and days,before death, after death, and if my death can do her goodeven now, when she is the dead UnDead, she shall haveit freely.” He said this with a very grave, sweet pride, andArthur was much affected by it.

He took the old man’s hand and said in a broken voice,“Oh, it is hard to think of it, and I cannot understand, butat least I shall go with you and wait.”

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY–cont.

It was just a quarter before twelve o’clock when we gotinto the churchyard over the low wall. The night wasdark with occasional gleams of moonlight between thedents of the heavy clouds that scudded across the sky.We all kept somehow close together, with Van Helsingslightly in front as he led the way. When we had comeclose to the tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared theproximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memorywould upset him, but he bore himself well. I took it thatthe very mystery of the proceeding was in some way a

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counteractant to his grief. The Professor unlocked thedoor, and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for vari-ous reasons, solved the difficulty by entering first himself.The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He thenlit a dark lantern and pointed to a coffin. Arthur steppedforward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, “You werewith me here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy inthat coffin?”

“It was.”The Professor turned to the rest saying, “You hear, and

yet there is no one who does not believe with me.”He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of

the coffin. Arthur looked on, very pale but silent. Whenthe lid was removed he stepped forward. He evidentlydid not know that there was a leaden coffin, or at anyrate, had not thought of it. When he saw the rent in thelead, the blood rushed to his face for an instant, but asquickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastlywhiteness. He was still silent. Van Helsing forced backthe leaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.

The coffin was empty!For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence

was broken by Quincey Morris, “Professor, I answered

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for you. Your word is all I want. I wouldn’t ask such athing ordinarily, I wouldn’t so dishonour you as to im-ply a doubt, but this is a mystery that goes beyond anyhonour or dishonour. Is this your doing?”

“I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I havenot removed or touched her. What happened was this.Two nights ago my friend Seward and I came here, withgood purpose, believe me. I opened that coffin, whichwas then sealed up, and we found it as now, empty. Wethen waited, and saw something white come through thetrees. The next day we came here in daytime and she laythere. Did she not, friend John?

“Yes.”

“That night we were just in time. One more so smallchild was missing, and we find it, thank God, unharmedamongst the graves. Yesterday I came here before sun-down, for at sundown the UnDead can move. I waitedhere all night till the sun rose, but I saw nothing. It wasmost probable that it was because I had laid over theclamps of those doors garlic, which the UnDead cannotbear, and other things which they shun. Last night therewas no exodus, so tonight before the sundown I tookaway my garlic and other things. And so it is we find

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this coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is muchthat is strange. Wait you with me outside, unseen and un-heard, and things much stranger are yet to be. So,” herehe shut the dark slide of his lantern, “now to the outside.”He opened the door, and we filed out, he coming last andlocking the door behind him.

Oh! But it seemed fresh and pure in the night air af-ter the terror of that vault. How sweet it was to see theclouds race by, and the passing gleams of the moonlightbetween the scudding clouds crossing and passing, likethe gladness and sorrow of a man’s life. How sweet itwas to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of deathand decay. How humanizing to see the red lighting ofthe sky beyond the hill, and to hear far away the muf-fled roar that marks the life of a great city. Each in hisown way was solemn and overcome. Arthur was silent,and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose andthe inner meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerablypatient, and half inclined again to throw aside doubt andto accept Van Helsing’s conclusions. Quincey Morris wasphlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things,and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with haz-ard of all he has at stake. Not being able to smoke, hecut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco and began to

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chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definiteway. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked likethin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in awhite napkin. Next he took out a double handful of somewhitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the waferup fine and worked it into the mass between his hands.This he then took, and rolling it into thin strips, began tolay them into the crevices between the door and its settingin the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this, and beingclose, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthurand Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious.

He answered, “I am closing the tomb so that the Un-Dead may not enter.”

“And is that stuff you have there going to do it?”

“It is.”

“What is that which you are using?” This time thequestion was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted hishat as he answered.

“The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have anIndulgence.”

It was an answer that appalled the most scepticalof us, and we felt individually that in the presence of

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such earnest purpose as the Professor’s, a purpose whichcould thus use the to him most sacred of things, it wasimpossible to distrust. In respectful silence we took theplaces assigned to us close round the tomb, but hiddenfrom the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others,especially Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by myformer visits to this watching horror, and yet I, who hadup to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heartsink within me. Never did tombs look so ghastly white.Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embod-iment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave orrustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteri-ously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs sendsuch a woeful presage through the night.

There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, andthen from the Professor a keen “S-s-s-s!” He pointed, andfar down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure ad-vance, a dim white figure, which held something dark atits breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a rayof moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, andshowed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman,dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not seethe face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be afair-haired child. There was a pause and a sharp little cry,

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such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before thefire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the Pro-fessor’s warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind ayew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the whitefigure moved forwards again. It was now near enoughfor us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. Myown heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp ofArthur, as we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra.Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness wasturned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity tovoluptuous wantonness.

Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture,we all advanced too. The four of us ranged in a line be-fore the door of the tomb. Van Helsing raised his lanternand drew the slide. By the concentrated light that fell onLucy’s face we could see that the lips were crimson withfresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chinand stained the purity of her lawn death-robe.

We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremu-lous light that even Van Helsing’s iron nerve had failed.Arthur was next to me, and if I had not seized his armand held him up, he would have fallen.

When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy be-

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cause it bore her shape, saw us she drew back with anangry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares,then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy’s eyes in form andcolour, but Lucy’s eyes unclean and full of hell fire, in-stead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that momentthe remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing.Had she then to be killed, I could have done it with sav-age delight. As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholylight, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuoussmile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it! Witha careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as adevil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenu-ously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls overa bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning.There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung agroan from Arthur. When she advanced to him with out-stretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hidhis face in his hands.

She still advanced, however, and with a languorous,voluptuous grace, said, “Come to me, Arthur. Leavethese others and come to me. My arms are hungry foryou. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my hus-band, come!”

There was something diabolically sweet in her tones,

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something of the tinkling of glass when struck, whichrang through the brains even of us who heard the wordsaddressed to another.

As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell, moving hishands from his face, he opened wide his arms. She wasleaping for them, when Van Helsing sprang forward andheld between them his little golden crucifix. She recoiledfrom it, and, with a suddenly distorted face, full of rage,dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.

When within a foot or two of the door, however, shestopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Thenshe turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst ofmoonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiverfrom Van Helsing’s nerves. Never did I see such baffledmalice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever be seenagain by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid,the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell fire, the browswere wrinkled as though the folds of flesh were the coilsof Medusa’s snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouthgrew to an open square, as in the passion masks of theGreeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death, if lookscould kill, we saw it at that moment.

And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity,

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she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacredclosing of her means of entry.

Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, “An-swer me, oh my friend! Am I to proceed in my work?”

“Do as you will, friend. Do as you will. There can beno horror like this ever any more.” And he groaned inspirit.

Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him,and took his arms. We could hear the click of the clos-ing lantern as Van Helsing held it down. Coming close tothe tomb, he began to remove from the chinks some of thesacred emblem which he had placed there. We all lookedon with horrified amazement as we saw, when he stoodback, the woman, with a corporeal body as real at thatmoment as our own, pass through the interstice wherescarce a knife blade could have gone. We all felt a gladsense of relief when we saw the Professor calmly restor-ing the strings of putty to the edges of the door.

When this was done, he lifted the child and said,“Come now, my friends. We can do no more till tomor-row. There is a funeral at noon, so here we shall all comebefore long after that. The friends of the dead will allbe gone by two, and when the sexton locks the gate we

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shall remain. Then there is more to do, but not like this oftonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, andby tomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave himwhere the police will find him, as on the other night, andthen to home.”

Coming close to Arthur, he said, “My friend Arthur,you have had a sore trial, but after, when you look back,you will see how it was necessary. You are now in thebitter waters, my child. By this time tomorrow you will,please God, have passed them, and have drunk of thesweet waters. So do not mourn over-much. Till then Ishall not ask you to forgive me.”

Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we triedto cheer each other on the way. We had left behind thechild in safety, and were tired. So we all slept with moreor less reality of sleep.

29 September, night.–A little before twelve o’clock wethree, Arthur, Quincey Morris, and myself, called for theProfessor. It was odd to notice that by common consentwe had all put on black clothes. Of course, Arthur woreblack, for he was in deep mourning, but the rest of uswore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by half-pastone, and strolled about, keeping out of official observa-

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tion, so that when the gravediggers had completed theirtask and the sexton, under the belief that every one hadgone, had locked the gate, we had the place all to our-selves. Van Helsing, instead of his little black bag, hadwith him a long leather one, something like a cricketingbag. It was manifestly of fair weight.

When we were alone and had heard the last of the foot-steps die out up the road, we silently, and as if by or-dered intention, followed the Professor to the tomb. Heunlocked the door, and we entered, closing it behind us.Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit, andalso two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck bymelting their own ends, on other coffins, so that theymight give light sufficient to work by. When he againlifted the lid off Lucy’s coffin we all looked, Arthur trem-bling like an aspen, and saw that the corpse lay there in allits death beauty. But there was no love in my own heart,nothing but loathing for the foul Thing which had takenLucy’s shape without her soul. I could see even Arthur’sface grow hard as he looked. Presently he said to VanHelsing, “Is this really Lucy’s body, or only a demon inher shape?”

“It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and youshall see her as she was, and is.”

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She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there,the pointed teeth, the blood stained, voluptuous mouth,which made one shudder to see, the whole carnal andunspirited appearance, seeming like a devilish mockeryof Lucy’s sweet purity. Van Helsing, with his usual me-thodicalness, began taking the various contents from hisbag and placing them ready for use. First he took out asoldering iron and some plumbing solder, and then smalloil lamp, which gave out, when lit in a corner of the tomb,gas which burned at a fierce heat with a blue flame, thenhis operating knives, which he placed to hand, and last around wooden stake, some two and a half or three inchesthick and about three feet long. One end of it was hard-ened by charring in the fire, and was sharpened to a finepoint. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such asin households is used in the coal cellar for breaking thelumps. To me, a doctor’s preparations for work of anykind are stimulating and bracing, but the effect of thesethings on both Arthur and Quincey was to cause thema sort of consternation. They both, however, kept theircourage, and remained silent and quiet.

When all was ready, Van Helsing said, “Before we doanything, let me tell you this. It is out of the lore and ex-perience of the ancients and of all those who have stud-

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ied the powers of the UnDead. When they become such,there comes with the change the curse of immortality.They cannot die, but must go on age after age addingnew victims and multiplying the evils of the world. Forall that die from the preying of the Undead become them-selves Undead, and prey on their kind. And so the circlegoes on ever widening, like as the ripples from a stonethrown in the water. Friend Arthur, if you had met thatkiss which you know of before poor Lucy die, or again,last night when you open your arms to her, you would intime, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as theycall it in Eastern Europe, and would for all time makemore of those Un-Deads that so have filled us with hor-ror. The career of this so unhappy dear lady is but justbegun. Those children whose blood she sucked are notas yet so much the worse, but if she lives on, UnDead,more and more they lose their blood and by her powerover them they come to her, and so she draw their bloodwith that so wicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then allcease. The tiny wounds of the throats disappear, and theygo back to their play unknowing ever of what has been.But of the most blessed of all, when this now UnDead bemade to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor ladywhom we love shall again be free. Instead of working

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wickedness by night and growing more debased in theassimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with theother Angels. So that, my friend, it will be a blessed handfor her that shall strike the blow that sets her free. To this Iam willing, but is there none amongst us who has a betterright? Will it be no joy to think of hereafter in the silenceof the night when sleep is not, ‘It was my hand that senther to the stars. It was the hand of him that loved herbest, the hand that of all she would herself have chosen,had it been to her to choose?’ Tell me if there be such aone amongst us?”

We all looked at Arthur. He saw too, what we all did,the infinite kindness which suggested that his should bethe hand which would restore Lucy to us as a holy, andnot an unholy, memory. He stepped forward and saidbravely, though his hand trembled, and his face was aspale as snow, “My true friend, from the bottom of mybroken heart I thank you. Tell me what I am to do, and Ishall not falter!”

Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said,“Brave lad! A moment’s courage, and it is done. Thisstake must be driven through her. It well be a fearful or-deal, be not deceived in that, but it will be only a shorttime, and you will then rejoice more than your pain was

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great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as thoughyou tread on air. But you must not falter when once youhave begun. Only think that we, your true friends, areround you, and that we pray for you all the time.”

“Go on,” said Arthur hoarsely. “Tell me what I am todo.”

“Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place to thepoint over the heart, and the hammer in your right. Thenwhen we begin our prayer for the dead, I shall read him,I have here the book, and the others shall follow, strike inGod’s name, that so all may be well with the dead thatwe love and that the UnDead pass away.”

Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when oncehis mind was set on action his hands never trembled noreven quivered. Van Helsing opened his missal and beganto read, and Quincey and I followed as well as we could.

Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I lookedI could see its dint in the white flesh. Then he struck withall his might.

The thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous, blood-curdling screech came from the opened red lips. Thebody shook and quivered and twisted in wild contor-tions. The sharp white teeth champed together till the

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lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crim-son foam. But Arthur never faltered. He looked like afigure of Thor as his untrembling arm rose and fell, driv-ing deeper and deeper the mercy-bearing stake, whilstthe blood from the pierced heart welled and spurted uparound it. His face was set, and high duty seemed toshine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so thatour voices seemed to ring through the little vault.

And then the writhing and quivering of the body be-came less, and the teeth seemed to champ, and the face toquiver. Finally it lay still. The terrible task was over.

The hammer fell from Arthur’s hand. He reeled andwould have fallen had we not caught him. The greatdrops of sweat sprang from his forehead, and his breathcame in broken gasps. It had indeed been an awful strainon him, and had he not been forced to his task by morethan human considerations he could never have gonethrough with it. For a few minutes we were so taken upwith him that we did not look towards the coffin. Whenwe did, however, a murmur of startled surprise ran fromone to the other of us. We gazed so eagerly that Arthurrose, for he had been seated on the ground, and came andlooked too, and then a glad strange light broke over hisface and dispelled altogether the gloom of horror that lay

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upon it.There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that

we had so dreaded and grown to hate that the work ofher destruction was yielded as a privilege to the one bestentitled to it, but Lucy as we had seen her in life, with herface of unequalled sweetness and purity. True that therewere there, as we had seen them in life, the traces of careand pain and waste. But these were all dear to us, for theymarked her truth to what we knew. One and all we feltthat the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wastedface and form was only an earthly token and symbol ofthe calm that was to reign for ever.

Van Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur’s shoul-der, and said to him, “And now, Arthur my friend, dearlad, am I not forgiven?”

The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took theold man’s hand in his, and raising it to his lips, pressed it,and said, “Forgiven! God bless you that you have givenmy dear one her soul again, and me peace.” He put hishands on the Professor’s shoulder, and laying his headon his breast, cried for a while silently, whilst we stoodunmoving.

When he raised his head Van Helsing said to him,

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“And now, my child, you may kiss her. Kiss her dead lipsif you will, as she would have you to, if for her to choose.For she is not a grinning devil now, not any more a foulThing for all eternity. No longer she is the devil’s Un-Dead. She is God’s true dead, whose soul is with Him!”

Arthur bent and kissed her, and then we sent him andQuincey out of the tomb. The Professor and I sawed thetop off the stake, leaving the point of it in the body. Thenwe cut off the head and filled the mouth with garlic. Wesoldered up the leaden coffin, screwed on the coffin lid,and gathering up our belongings, came away. When theProfessor locked the door he gave the key to Arthur.

Outside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the birdssang, and it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a dif-ferent pitch. There was gladness and mirth and peace ev-erywhere, for we were at rest ourselves on one account,and we were glad, though it was with a tempered joy.

Before we moved away Van Helsing said, “Now, myfriends, one step of our work is done, one the most har-rowing to ourselves. But there remains a greater task: tofind out the author of all this our sorrow and to stamphim out. I have clues which we can follow, but it is a longtask, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it, and

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pain. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to be-lieve, all of us, is it not so? And since so, do we not seeour duty? Yes! And do we not promise to go on to thebitter end?”

Each in turn, we took his hand, and the promise wasmade. Then said the Professor as we moved off, “Twonights hence you shall meet with me and dine togetherat seven of the clock with friend John. I shall entreat twoothers, two that you know not as yet, and I shall be readyto all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend John,you come with me home, for I have much to consult youabout, and you can help me. Tonight I leave for Ams-terdam, but shall return tomorrow night. And then be-gins our great quest. But first I shall have much to say,so that you may know what to do and to dread. Thenour promise shall be made to each other anew. For thereis a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on theploughshare we must not draw back.”

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY–cont.

When we arrived at the Berkely Hotel, Van Helsingfound a telegram waiting for him.

“Am coming up by train. Jonathan at Whitby. Impor-tant news. Mina Harker.”

The Professor was delighted. “Ah, that wonderfulMadam Mina,” he said, “pearl among women! She ar-rive, but I cannot stay. She must go to your house, friendJohn. You must meet her at the station. Telegraph her enroute so that she may be prepared.”

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When the wire was dispatched he had a cup of tea.Over it he told me of a diary kept by Jonathan Harkerwhen abroad, and gave me a typewritten copy of it, asalso of Mrs. Harker’s diary at Whitby. “Take these,” hesaid, “and study them well. When I have returned youwill be master of all the facts, and we can then better en-ter on our inquisition. Keep them safe, for there is in themmuch of treasure. You will need all your faith, even youwho have had such an experience as that of today. Whatis here told,” he laid his hand heavily and gravely on thepacket of papers as he spoke, “may be the beginning ofthe end to you and me and many another, or it may soundthe knell of the UnDead who walk the earth. Read all, Ipray you, with the open mind, and if you can add in anyway to the story here told do so, for it is all important.You have kept a diary of all these so strange things, is itnot so? Yes! Then we shall go through all these togetherwhen we meet.” He then made ready for his departureand shortly drove off to Liverpool Street. I took my wayto Paddington, where I arrived about fifteen minutes be-fore the train came in.

The crowd melted away, after the bustling fashioncommon to arrival platforms, and I was beginning to feeluneasy, lest I might miss my guest, when a sweet-faced,

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dainty looking girl stepped up to me, and after a quickglance said, “Dr. Seward, is it not?”

“And you are Mrs. Harker!” I answered at once,whereupon she held out her hand.

“I knew you from the description of poor dear Lucy,but...” She stopped suddenly, and a quick blush over-spread her face.

The blush that rose to my own cheeks somehow set usboth at ease, for it was a tacit answer to her own. I got herluggage, which included a typewriter, and we took theUnderground to Fenchurch Street, after I had sent a wireto my housekeeper to have a sitting room and a bedroomprepared at once for Mrs. Harker.

In due time we arrived. She knew, of course, that theplace was a lunatic asylum, but I could see that she wasunable to repress a shudder when we entered.

She told me that, if she might, she would comepresently to my study, as she had much to say. So hereI am finishing my entry in my phonograph diary whilst Iawait her. As yet I have not had the chance of looking atthe papers which Van Helsing left with me, though theylie open before me. I must get her interested in some-thing, so that I may have an opportunity of reading them.

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She does not know how precious time is, or what a taskwe have in hand. I must be careful not to frighten her.Here she is!

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

29 September.–After I had tidied myself, I went downto Dr. Seward’s study. At the door I paused a moment,for I thought I heard him talking with some one. As, how-ever, he had pressed me to be quick, I knocked at the door,and on his calling out, “Come in,” I entered.

To my intense surprise, there was no one with him. Hewas quite alone, and on the table opposite him was whatI knew at once from the description to be a phonograph.I had never seen one, and was much interested.

“I hope I did not keep you waiting,” I said, “but Istayed at the door as I heard you talking, and thoughtthere was someone with you.”

“Oh,” he replied with a smile, “I was only entering mydiary.”

“Your diary?” I asked him in surprise.“Yes,” he answered. “I keep it in this.” As he spoke he

laid his hand on the phonograph. I felt quite excited over

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it, and blurted out, “Why, this beats even shorthand! MayI hear it say something?”

“Certainly,” he replied with alacrity, and stood up toput it in train for speaking. Then he paused, and a trou-bled look overspread his face.

“The fact is,” he began awkwardly, “I only keep mydiary in it, and as it is entirely, almost entirely, about mycases it may be awkward, that is, I mean...” He stopped,and I tried to help him out of his embarrassment.

“You helped to attend dear Lucy at the end. Let mehear how she died, for all that I know of her, I shall bevery grateful. She was very, very dear to me.”

To my surprise, he answered, with a horrorstruck lookin his face, “Tell you of her death? Not for the wideworld!”

“Why not?” I asked, for some grave, terrible feelingwas coming over me.

Again he paused, and I could see that he was trying toinvent an excuse. At length, he stammered out, “You see,I do not know how to pick out any particular part of thediary.”

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Even while he was speaking an idea dawned uponhim, and he said with unconscious simplicity, in a dif-ferent voice, and with the naivete of a child, “that’s quitetrue, upon my honour. Honest Indian!”

I could not but smile, at which he grimaced. “I gavemyself away that time!” he said. “But do you know that,although I have kept the diary for months past, it neveronce struck me how I was going to find any particularpart of it in case I wanted to look it up?”

By this time my mind was made up that the diary of adoctor who attended Lucy might have something to addto the sum of our knowledge of that terrible Being, andI said boldly, “Then, Dr. Seward, you had better let mecopy it out for you on my typewriter.”

He grew to a positively deathly pallor as he said, “No!No! No! For all the world. I wouldn’t let you know thatterrible story!”

Then it was terrible. My intuition was right! For a mo-ment, I thought, and as my eyes ranged the room, un-consciously looking for something or some opportunityto aid me, they lit on a great batch of typewriting on thetable. His eyes caught the look in mine, and without histhinking, followed their direction. As they saw the parcel

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he realized my meaning.“You do not know me,” I said. “When you have read

those papers, my own diary and my husband’s also,which I have typed, you will know me better. I have notfaltered in giving every thought of my own heart in thiscause. But, of course, you do not know me, yet, and Imust not expect you to trust me so far.”

He is certainly a man of noble nature. Poor dear Lucywas right about him. He stood up and opened a largedrawer, in which were arranged in order a number of hol-low cylinders of metal covered with dark wax, and said,

“You are quite right. I did not trust you because I didnot know you. But I know you now, and let me say thatI should have known you long ago. I know that Lucytold you of me. She told me of you too. May I makethe only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders andhear them. The first half-dozen of them are personal tome, and they will not horrify you. Then you will knowme better. Dinner will by then be ready. In the meantimeI shall read over some of these documents, and shall bebetter able to understand certain things.”

He carried the phonograph himself up to my sittingroom and adjusted it for me. Now I shall learn something

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pleasant, I am sure. For it will tell me the other side of atrue love episode of which I know one side already.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

29 September.–I was so absorbed in that wonderful di-ary of Jonathan Harker and that other of his wife that I letthe time run on without thinking. Mrs. Harker was notdown when the maid came to announce dinner, so I said,“She is possibly tired. Let dinner wait an hour,” and Iwent on with my work. I had just finished Mrs. Harker’sdiary, when she came in. She looked sweetly pretty, butvery sad, and her eyes were flushed with crying. Thissomehow moved me much. Of late I have had cause fortears, God knows! But the relief of them was denied me,and now the sight of those sweet eyes, brightened by re-cent tears, went straight to my heart. So I said as gentlyas I could, “I greatly fear I have distressed you.”

“Oh, no, not distressed me,” she replied. “But I havebeen more touched than I can say by your grief. That isa wonderful machine, but it is cruelly true. It told me,in its very tones, the anguish of your heart. It was like asoul crying out to Almighty God. No one must hear them

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spoken ever again! See, I have tried to be useful. I havecopied out the words on my typewriter, and none otherneed now hear your heart beat, as I did.”

“No one need ever know, shall ever know,” I said ina low voice. She laid her hand on mine and said verygravely, “Ah, but they must!”

“Must! But why?” I asked.

“Because it is a part of the terrible story, a part of poorLucy’s death and all that led to it. Because in the strugglewhich we have before us to rid the earth of this terriblemonster we must have all the knowledge and all the helpwhich we can get. I think that the cylinders which yougave me contained more than you intended me to know.But I can see that there are in your record many lights tothis dark mystery. You will let me help, will you not? Iknow all up to a certain point, and I see already, thoughyour diary only took me to 7 September, how poor Lucywas beset, and how her terrible doom was being wroughtout. Jonathan and I have been working day and nightsince Professor Van Helsing saw us. He is gone to Whitbyto get more information, and he will be here tomorrowto help us. We need have no secrets amongst us. Work-ing together and with absolute trust, we can surely be

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stronger than if some of us were in the dark.”

She looked at me so appealingly, and at the same timemanifested such courage and resolution in her bearing,that I gave in at once to her wishes. “You shall,” I said,“do as you like in the matter. God forgive me if I dowrong! There are terrible things yet to learn of, but if youhave so far traveled on the road to poor Lucy’s death, youwill not be content, I know, to remain in the dark. Nay,the end, the very end, may give you a gleam of peace.Come, there is dinner. We must keep one another strongfor what is before us. We have a cruel and dreadful task.When you have eaten you shall learn the rest, and I shallanswer any questions you ask, if there be anything whichyou do not understand, though it was apparent to us whowere present.”

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

29 September.–After dinner I came with Dr. Sewardto his study. He brought back the phonograph from myroom, and I took a chair, and arranged the phonographso that I could touch it without getting up, and showedme how to stop it in case I should want to pause. Then

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he very thoughtfully took a chair, with his back to me, sothat I might be as free as possible, and began to read. Iput the forked metal to my ears and listened.

When the terrible story of Lucy’s death, and all that fol-lowed, was done, I lay back in my chair powerless. For-tunately I am not of a fainting disposition. When Dr. Se-ward saw me he jumped up with a horrified exclamation,and hurriedly taking a case bottle from the cupboard,gave me some brandy, which in a few minutes somewhatrestored me. My brain was all in a whirl, and only thatthere came through all the multitude of horrors, the holyray of light that my dear Lucy was at last at peace, I donot think I could have borne it without making a scene. Itis all so wild and mysterious, and strange that if I had notknown Jonathan’s experience in Transylvania I could nothave believed. As it was, I didn’t know what to believe,and so got out of my difficulty by attending to somethingelse. I took the cover off my typewriter, and said to Dr.Seward,

“Let me write this all out now. We must be ready forDr. Van Helsing when he comes. I have sent a telegramto Jonathan to come on here when he arrives in Londonfrom Whitby. In this matter dates are everything, and Ithink that if we get all of our material ready, and have

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every item put in chronological order, we shall have donemuch.

“You tell me that Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arecoming too. Let us be able to tell them when they come.”

He accordingly set the phonograph at a slow pace, andI began to typewrite from the beginning of the seven-teenth cylinder. I used manifold, and so took three copiesof the diary, just as I had done with the rest. It was latewhen I got through, but Dr. Seward went about his workof going his round of the patients. When he had finishedhe came back and sat near me, reading, so that I did notfeel too lonely whilst I worked. How good and thought-ful he is. The world seems full of good men, even if thereare monsters in it.

Before I left him I remembered what Jonathan put inhis diary of the Professor’s perturbation at reading some-thing in an evening paper at the station at Exeter, so,seeing that Dr. Seward keeps his newspapers, I bor-rowed the files of ‘The Westminster Gazette’ and ‘The PallMall Gazette’ and took them to my room. I rememberhow much the ‘Dailygraph’ and ‘The Whitby Gazette’,of which I had made cuttings, had helped us to under-stand the terrible events at Whitby when Count Dracula

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landed, so I shall look through the evening papers sincethen, and perhaps I shall get some new light. I am notsleepy, and the work will help to keep me quiet.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

30 September.–Mr. Harker arrived at nine o’clock. Hegot his wife’s wire just before starting. He is uncommonlyclever, if one can judge from his face, and full of energy.If this journal be true, and judging by one’s own won-derful experiences, it must be, he is also a man of greatnerve. That going down to the vault a second time was aremarkable piece of daring. After reading his account ofit I was prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood,but hardly the quiet, businesslike gentleman who camehere today.

LATER.–After lunch Harker and his wife went back totheir own room, and as I passed a while ago I heard theclick of the typewriter. They are hard at it. Mrs. Harkersays that they are knitting together in chronological orderevery scrap of evidence they have. Harker has got theletters between the consignee of the boxes at Whitby andthe carriers in London who took charge of them. He is

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now reading his wife’s transcript of my diary. I wonderwhat they make out of it. Here it is...

Strange that it never struck me that the very next housemight be the Count’s hiding place! Goodness knows thatwe had enough clues from the conduct of the patient Ren-field! The bundle of letters relating to the purchase of thehouse were with the transcript. Oh, if we had only hadthem earlier we might have saved poor Lucy! Stop! Thatway madness lies! Harker has gone back, and is againcollecting material. He says that by dinner time they willbe able to show a whole connected narrative. He thinksthat in the meantime I should see Renfield, as hitherto hehas been a sort of index to the coming and going of theCount. I hardly see this yet, but when I get at the dates Isuppose I shall. What a good thing that Mrs. Harker putmy cylinders into type! We never could have found thedates otherwise.

I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room withhis hands folded, smiling benignly. At the moment heseemed as sane as any one I ever saw. I sat down andtalked with him on a lot of subjects, all of which he treatednaturally. He then, of his own accord, spoke of goinghome, a subject he has never mentioned to my knowl-edge during his sojourn here. In fact, he spoke quite con-

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fidently of getting his discharge at once. I believe that,had I not had the chat with Harker and read the lettersand the dates of his outbursts, I should have been pre-pared to sign for him after a brief time of observation. Asit is, I am darkly suspicious. All those out-breaks were insome way linked with the proximity of the Count. Whatthen does this absolute content mean? Can it be that hisinstinct is satisfied as to the vampire’s ultimate triumph?Stay. He is himself zoophagous, and in his wild ravingsoutside the chapel door of the deserted house he alwaysspoke of ‘master’. This all seems confirmation of our idea.However, after a while I came away. My friend is just alittle too sane at present to make it safe to probe him toodeep with questions. He might begin to think, and then...So I came away. I mistrust these quiet moods of his, so Ihave given the attendant a hint to look closely after him,and to have a strait waistcoat ready in case of need.

JOHNATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

29 September, in train to London.–When I received Mr.Billington’s courteous message that he would give meany information in his power I thought it best to go downto Whitby and make, on the spot, such inquiries as I

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wanted. It was now my object to trace that horrid cargo ofthe Count’s to its place in London. Later, we may be ableto deal with it. Billington junior, a nice lad, met me atthe station, and brought me to his father’s house, wherethey had decided that I must spend the night. They arehospitable, with true Yorkshire hospitality, give a guesteverything and leave him to do as he likes. They all knewthat I was busy, and that my stay was short, and Mr.Billington had ready in his office all the papers concern-ing the consignment of boxes. It gave me almost a turnto see again one of the letters which I had seen on theCount’s table before I knew of his diabolical plans. Ev-erything had been carefully thought out, and done sys-tematically and with precision. He seemed to have beenprepared for every obstacle which might be placed by ac-cident in the way of his intentions being carried out. Touse an Americanism, he had ‘taken no chances’, and theabsolute accuracy with which his instructions were ful-filled was simply the logical result of his care. I saw theinvoice, and took note of it. ‘Fifty cases of common earth,to be used for experimental purposes’. Also the copy ofthe letter to Carter Paterson, and their reply. Of both theseI got copies. This was all the information Mr. Billingtoncould give me, so I went down to the port and saw the

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coastguards, the Customs Officers and the harbour mas-ter, who kindly put me in communication with the menwho had actually received the boxes. Their tally was ex-act with the list, and they had nothing to add to the sim-ple description ‘fifty cases of common earth’, except thatthe boxes were ‘main and mortal heavy’, and that shift-ing them was dry work. One of them added that it washard lines that there wasn’t any gentleman ‘such like aslike yourself, squire’, to show some sort of appreciationof their efforts in a liquid form. Another put in a riderthat the thirst then generated was such that even the timewhich had elapsed had not completely allayed it. Need-less to add, I took care before leaving to lift, forever andadequately, this source of reproach.

30 September.–The station master was good enough togive me a line to his old companion the station master atKing’s Cross, so that when I arrived there in the morningI was able to ask him about the arrival of the boxes. He,too put me at once in communication with the proper of-ficials, and I saw that their tally was correct with the orig-inal invoice. The opportunities of acquiring an abnormalthirst had been here limited. A noble use of them had,however, been made, and again I was compelled to dealwith the result in ex post facto manner.

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From thence I went to Carter Paterson’s central office,where I met with the utmost courtesy. They looked up thetransaction in their day book and letter book, and at oncetelephoned to their King’s Cross office for more details.By good fortune, the men who did the teaming were wait-ing for work, and the official at once sent them over, send-ing also by one of them the way-bill and all the papersconnected with the delivery of the boxes at Carfax. Hereagain I found the tally agreeing exactly. The carriers’ menwere able to supplement the paucity of the written wordswith a few more details. These were, I shortly found, con-nected almost solely with the dusty nature of the job, andthe consequent thirst engendered in the operators. Onmy affording an opportunity, through the medium of thecurrency of the realm, of the allaying, at a later period,this beneficial evil, one of the men remarked,

“That ‘ere ‘ouse, guv’nor, is the rummiest I ever was in.Blyme! But it ain’t been touched sence a hundred years.There was dust that thick in the place that you might haveslep’ on it without ‘urtin’ of yer bones. An’ the place wasthat neglected that yer might ‘ave smelled ole Jerusalemin it. But the old chapel, that took the cike, that did! Meand my mate, we thort we wouldn’t never git out quickenough. Lor’, I wouldn’t take less nor a quid a moment

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to stay there arter dark.”Having been in the house, I could well believe him, but

if he knew what I know, he would, I think have raised histerms.

Of one thing I am now satisfied. That all those boxeswhich arrived at Whitby from Varna in the Demeter weresafely deposited in the old chapel at Carfax. There shouldbe fifty of them there, unless any have since been re-moved, as from Dr. Seward’s diary I fear.

Later.–Mina and I have worked all day, and we haveput all the papers into order.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

30 September.–I am so glad that I hardly know howto contain myself. It is, I suppose, the reaction from thehaunting fear which I have had, that this terrible affairand the reopening of his old wound might act detrimen-tally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for Whitby with asbrave a face as could, but I was sick with apprehension.The effort has, however, done him good. He was neverso resolute, never so strong, never so full of volcanic en-ergy, as at present. It is just as that dear, good Professor

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Van Helsing said, he is true grit, and he improves understrain that would kill a weaker nature. He came back fullof life and hope and determination. We have got every-thing in order for tonight. I feel myself quite wild with ex-citement. I suppose one ought to pity anything so huntedas the Count. That is just it. This thing is not human,not even a beast. To read Dr. Seward’s account of poorLucy’s death, and what followed, is enough to dry up thesprings of pity in one’s heart.

Later.–Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arrived earlierthan we expected. Dr. Seward was out on business, andhad taken Jonathan with him, so I had to see them. Itwas to me a painful meeting, for it brought back all poordear Lucy’s hopes of only a few months ago. Of coursethey had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr.Van Helsing, too, had been quite ‘blowing my trumpet’,as Mr. Morris expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of themis aware that I know all about the proposals they madeto Lucy. They did not quite know what to say or do, asthey were ignorant of the amount of my knowledge. Sothey had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I thoughtthe matter over, and came to the conclusion that the bestthing I could do would be to post them on affairs rightup to date. I knew from Dr. Seward’s diary that they

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had been at Lucy’s death, her real death, and that I neednot fear to betray any secret before the time. So I toldthem, as well as I could, that I had read all the papers anddiaries, and that my husband and I, having typewrittenthem, had just finished putting them in order. I gave themeach a copy to read in the library. When Lord Godalminggot his and turned it over, it does make a pretty good pile,he said, “Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker?”

I nodded, and he went on.

“I don’t quite see the drift of it, but you people are all sogood and kind, and have been working so earnestly andso energetically, that all I can do is to accept your ideasblindfold and try to help you. I have had one lesson al-ready in accepting facts that should make a man humbleto the last hour of his life. Besides, I know you loved myLucy...”

Here he turned away and covered his face with hishands. I could hear the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris,with instinctive delicacy, just laid a hand for a momenton his shoulder, and then walked quietly out of the room.I suppose there is something in a woman’s nature thatmakes a man free to break down before her and expresshis feelings on the tender or emotional side without feel-

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ing it derogatory to his manhood. For when Lord Go-dalming found himself alone with me he sat down on thesofa and gave way utterly and openly. I sat down besidehim and took his hand. I hope he didn’t think it forwardof me, and that if he ever thinks of it afterwards he neverwill have such a thought. There I wrong him. I know henever will. He is too true a gentleman. I said to him, for Icould see that his heart was breaking, “I loved dear Lucy,and I know what she was to you, and what you were toher. She and I were like sisters, and now she is gone, willyou not let me be like a sister to you in your trouble? Iknow what sorrows you have had, though I cannot mea-sure the depth of them. If sympathy and pity can help inyour affliction, won’t you let me be of some little service,for Lucy’s sake?”

In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmedwith grief. It seemed to me that all that he had of late beensuffering in silence found a vent at once. He grew quitehysterical, and raising his open hands, beat his palms to-gether in a perfect agony of grief. He stood up and thensat down again, and the tears rained down his cheeks.I felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my arms un-thinkingly. With a sob he laid his head on my shoulderand cried like a wearied child, whilst he shook with emo-

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tion.

We women have something of the mother in us thatmakes us rise above smaller matters when the motherspirit is invoked. I felt this big sorrowing man’s head rest-ing on me, as though it were that of a baby that some daymay lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair as thoughhe were my own child. I never thought at the time howstrange it all was.

After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himselfwith an apology, though he made no disguise of his emo-tion. He told me that for days and nights past, wearydays and sleepless nights, he had been unable to speakwith any one, as a man must speak in his time of sorrow.There was no woman whose sympathy could be given tohim, or with whom, owing to the terrible circumstancewith which his sorrow was surrounded, he could speakfreely.

“I know now how I suffered,” he said, as he dried hiseyes, “but I do not know even yet, and none other canever know, how much your sweet sympathy has been tome today. I shall know better in time, and believe me that,though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will growwith my understanding. You will let me be like a brother,

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will you not, for all our lives, for dear Lucy’s sake?”“For dear Lucy’s sake,” I said as we clasped hands.

“Ay, and for your own sake,” he added, “for if a man’sesteem and gratitude are ever worth the winning, youhave won mine today. If ever the future should bring toyou a time when you need a man’s help, believe me, youwill not call in vain. God grant that no such time mayever come to you to break the sunshine of your life, butif it should ever come, promise me that you will let meknow.”

He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that Ifelt it would comfort him, so I said, “I promise.”

As I came along the corridor I saw Mr. Morris lookingout of a window. He turned as he heard my footsteps.“How is Art?” he said. Then noticing my red eyes, hewent on, “Ah, I see you have been comforting him. Poorold fellow! He needs it. No one but a woman can help aman when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no oneto comfort him.”

He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bledfor him. I saw the manuscript in his hand, and I knewthat when he read it he would realize how much I knew,so I said to him, “I wish I could comfort all who suffer

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from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and willyou come to me for comfort if you need it? You will knowlater why I speak.”

He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took myhand, and raising it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed butpoor comfort to so brave and unselfish a soul, and impul-sively I bent over and kissed him. The tears rose in hiseyes, and there was a momentary choking in his throat.He said quite calmly, “Little girl, you will never forgetthat true hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!”Then he went into the study to his friend.

“Little girl!” The very words he had used to Lucy, and,oh, but he proved himself a friend.

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

30 September.–I got home at five o’clock, and foundthat Godalming and Morris had not only arrived, but hadalready studied the transcript of the various diaries andletters which Harker had not yet returned from his visitto the carriers’ men, of whom Dr. Hennessey had writ-ten to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I canhonestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in it,this old house seemed like home. When we had finished,Mrs. Harker said,

“Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your

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patient, Mr. Renfield. Do let me see him. What you havesaid of him in your diary interests me so much!”

She looked so appealing and so pretty that I couldnot refuse her, and there was no possible reason why Ishould, so I took her with me. When I went into the room,I told the man that a lady would like to see him, to whichhe simply answered, “Why?”

“She is going through the house, and wants to see ev-ery one in it,” I answered.

“Oh, very well,” he said, “let her come in, by all means,but just wait a minute till I tidy up the place.”

His method of tidying was peculiar, he simply swal-lowed all the flies and spiders in the boxes before I couldstop him. It was quite evident that he feared, or was jeal-ous of, some interference. When he had got through hisdisgusting task, he said cheerfully, “Let the lady comein,” and sat down on the edge of his bed with his headdown, but with his eyelids raised so that he could see heras she entered. For a moment I thought that he mighthave some homicidal intent. I remembered how quiet hehad been just before he attacked me in my own study, andI took care to stand where I could seize him at once if heattempted to make a spring at her.

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She came into the room with an easy gracefulnesswhich would at once command the respect of any lunatic,for easiness is one of the qualities mad people most re-spect. She walked over to him, smiling pleasantly, andheld out her hand.

“Good evening, Mr. Renfield,” said she. “You see, Iknow you, for Dr. Seward has told me of you.” He madeno immediate reply, but eyed her all over intently with aset frown on his face. This look gave way to one of won-der, which merged in doubt, then to my intense astonish-ment he said, “You’re not the girl the doctor wanted tomarry, are you? You can’t be, you know, for she’s dead.”

Mrs. Harker smiled sweetly as she replied, “Oh no! Ihave a husband of my own, to whom I was married be-fore I ever saw Dr. Seward, or he me. I am Mrs. Harker.”

“Then what are you doing here?”“My husband and I are staying on a visit with Dr. Se-

ward.”“Then don’t stay.”“But why not?”I thought that this style of conversation might not be

pleasant to Mrs. Harker, any more than it was to me, so

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I joined in, “How did you know I wanted to marry any-one?”

His reply was simply contemptuous, given in a pausein which he turned his eyes from Mrs. Harker to me, in-stantly turning them back again, “What an asinine ques-tion!”

“I don’t see that at all, Mr. Renfield,” said Mrs. Harker,at once championing me.

He replied to her with as much courtesy and respectas he had shown contempt to me, “You will, of course,understand, Mrs. Harker, that when a man is so lovedand honoured as our host is, everything regarding him isof interest in our little community. Dr. Seward is lovednot only by his household and his friends, but even byhis patients, who, being some of them hardly in mentalequilibrium, are apt to distort causes and effects. Since Imyself have been an inmate of a lunatic asylum, I cannotbut notice that the sophistic tendencies of some of its in-mates lean towards the errors of non causa and ignoratioelenche.”

I positively opened my eyes at this new development.Here was my own pet lunatic, the most pronounced ofhis type that I had ever met with, talking elemental phi-

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losophy, and with the manner of a polished gentleman.I wonder if it was Mrs. Harker’s presence which hadtouched some chord in his memory. If this new phasewas spontaneous, or in any way due to her unconsciousinfluence, she must have some rare gift or power.

We continued to talk for some time, and seeing thathe was seemingly quite reasonable, she ventured, look-ing at me questioningly as she began, to lead him to hisfavourite topic. I was again astonished, for he addressedhimself to the question with the impartiality of the com-pletest sanity. He even took himself as an example whenhe mentioned certain things.

“Why, I myself am an instance of a man who had astrange belief. Indeed, it was no wonder that my friendswere alarmed, and insisted on my being put under con-trol. I used to fancy that life was a positive and per-petual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of livethings, no matter how low in the scale of creation, onemight indefinitely prolong life. At times I held the be-lief so strongly that I actually tried to take human life.The doctor here will bear me out that on one occasion Itried to kill him for the purpose of strengthening my vitalpowers by the assimilation with my own body of his lifethrough the medium of his blood, relying of course, upon

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the Scriptural phrase, ‘For the blood is the life.’ Though,indeed, the vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarizedthe truism to the very point of contempt. Isn’t that true,doctor?”

I nodded assent, for I was so amazed that I hardlyknew what to either think or say, it was hard to imag-ine that I had seen him eat up his spiders and flies notfive minutes before. Looking at my watch, I saw that Ishould go to the station to meet Van Helsing, so I toldMrs. Harker that it was time to leave.

She came at once, after saying pleasantly to Mr. Ren-field, “Goodbye, and I hope I may see you often, underauspices pleasanter to yourself.”

To which, to my astonishment, he replied, “Goodbye,my dear. I pray God I may never see your sweet faceagain. May He bless and keep you!”

When I went to the station to meet Van Helsing I leftthe boys behind me. Poor Art seemed more cheerful thanhe has been since Lucy first took ill, and Quincey is morelike his own bright self than he has been for many a longday.

Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eagernimbleness of a boy. He saw me at once, and rushed up

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to me, saying, “Ah, friend John, how goes all? Well? So! Ihave been busy, for I come here to stay if need be. All af-fairs are settled with me, and I have much to tell. MadamMina is with you? Yes. And her so fine husband? AndArthur and my friend Quincey, they are with you, too?Good!”

As I drove to the house I told him of what had passed,and of how my own diary had come to be of some usethrough Mrs. Harker’s suggestion, at which the Professorinterrupted me.

“Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina! She has man’sbrain, a brain that a man should have were he muchgifted, and a woman’s heart. The good God fashioned herfor a purpose, believe me, when He made that so goodcombination. Friend John, up to now fortune has madethat woman of help to us, after tonight she must not haveto do with this so terrible affair. It is not good that sherun a risk so great. We men are determined, nay, are wenot pledged, to destroy this monster? But it is no partfor a woman. Even if she be not harmed, her heart mayfail her in so much and so many horrors and hereafter shemay suffer, both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep,from her dreams. And, besides, she is young woman andnot so long married, there may be other things to think of

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some time, if not now. You tell me she has wrote all, thenshe must consult with us, but tomorrow she say goodbyeto this work, and we go alone.”

I agreed heartily with him, and then I told him what wehad found in his absence, that the house which Draculahad bought was the very next one to my own. He wasamazed, and a great concern seemed to come on him.

“Oh that we had known it before!” he said, “for thenwe might have reached him in time to save poor Lucy.However, ‘the milk that is spilt cries not out afterwards,’as you say. We shall not think of that, but go on our wayto the end.” Then he fell into a silence that lasted till weentered my own gateway. Before we went to prepare fordinner he said to Mrs. Harker, “I am told, Madam Mina,by my friend John that you and your husband have putup in exact order all things that have been, up to this mo-ment.”

“Not up to this moment, Professor,” she said impul-sively, “but up to this morning.”

“But why not up to now? We have seen hitherto howgood light all the little things have made. We have toldour secrets, and yet no one who has told is the worse forit.”

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Mrs. Harker began to blush, and taking a paper fromher pockets, she said, “Dr. Van Helsing, will you readthis, and tell me if it must go in. It is my record of today.I too have seen the need of putting down at present ev-erything, however trivial, but there is little in this exceptwhat is personal. Must it go in?”

The Professor read it over gravely, and handed it back,saying, “It need not go in if you do not wish it, but I praythat it may. It can but make your husband love you themore, and all us, your friends, more honour you, as wellas more esteem and love.” She took it back with anotherblush and a bright smile.

And so now, up to this very hour, all the records wehave are complete and in order. The Professor took awayone copy to study after dinner, and before our meeting,which is fixed for nine o’clock. The rest of us have alreadyread everything, so when we meet in the study we shallall be informed as to facts, and can arrange our plan ofbattle with this terrible and mysterious enemy.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

30 September.–When we met in Dr. Seward’s studytwo hours after dinner, which had been at six o’clock, we

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unconsciously formed a sort of board or committee. Pro-fessor Van Helsing took the head of the table, to whichDr. Seward motioned him as he came into the room. Hemade me sit next to him on his right, and asked me to actas secretary. Jonathan sat next to me. Opposite us wereLord Godalming, Dr. Seward, and Mr. Morris, Lord Go-dalming being next the Professor, and Dr. Seward in thecentre.

The Professor said, “I may, I suppose, take it that weare all acquainted with the facts that are in these papers.”We all expressed assent, and he went on, “Then it were, Ithink, good that I tell you something of the kind of enemywith which we have to deal. I shall then make known toyou something of the history of this man, which has beenascertained for me. So we then can discuss how we shallact, and can take our measure according.

“There are such beings as vampires, some of us haveevidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of ourown unhappy experience, the teachings and the recordsof the past give proof enough for sane peoples. I admitthat at the first I was sceptic. Were it not that throughlong years I have trained myself to keep an open mind, Icould not have believed until such time as that fact thun-der on my ear. ‘See! See! I prove, I prove.’ Alas! Had I

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known at first what now I know, nay, had I even guess athim, one so precious life had been spared to many of uswho did love her. But that is gone, and we must so work,that other poor souls perish not, whilst we can save. Thenosferatu do not die like the bee when he sting once. Heis only stronger, and being stronger, have yet more powerto work evil. This vampire which is amongst us is of him-self so strong in person as twenty men, he is of cunningmore than mortal, for his cunning be the growth of ages,he have still the aids of necromancy, which is, as his et-ymology imply, the divination by the dead, and all thedead that he can come nigh to are for him at command;he is brute, and more than brute; he is devil in callous,and the heart of him is not; he can, within his range, di-rect the elements, the storm, the fog, the thunder; he cancommand all the meaner things, the rat, and the owl, andthe bat, the moth, and the fox, and the wolf, he can growand become small; and he can at times vanish and comeunknown. How then are we to begin our strike to destroyhim? How shall we find his where, and having found it,how can we destroy? My friends, this is much, it is aterrible task that we undertake, and there may be conse-quence to make the brave shudder. For if we fail in thisour fight he must surely win, and then where end we?

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Life is nothings, I heed him not. But to fail here, is notmere life or death. It is that we become as him, that wehenceforward become foul things of the night like him,without heart or conscience, preying on the bodies andthe souls of those we love best. To us forever are the gatesof heaven shut, for who shall open them to us again? Wego on for all time abhorred by all, a blot on the face ofGod’s sunshine, an arrow in the side of Him who diedfor man. But we are face to face with duty, and in suchcase must we shrink? For me, I say no, but then I amold, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his songof birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You othersare young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair daysyet in store. What say you?”

Whilst he was speaking, Jonathan had taken my hand.I feared, oh so much, that the appalling nature of our dan-ger was overcoming him when I saw his hand stretch out,but it was life to me to feel its touch, so strong, so self re-liant, so resolute. A brave man’s hand can speak for itself,it does not even need a woman’s love to hear its music.

When the Professor had done speaking my husbandlooked in my eyes, and I in his, there was no need forspeaking between us.

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“I answer for Mina and myself,” he said.

“Count me in, Professor,” said Mr. Quincey Morris,laconically as usual.

“I am with you,” said Lord Godalming, “for Lucy’ssake, if for no other reason.”

Dr. Seward simply nodded.

The Professor stood up and, after laying his golden cru-cifix on the table, held out his hand on either side. I tookhis right hand, and Lord Godalming his left, Jonathanheld my right with his left and stretched across to Mr.Morris. So as we all took hands our solemn compact wasmade. I felt my heart icy cold, but it did not even oc-cur to me to draw back. We resumed our places, and Dr.Van Helsing went on with a sort of cheerfulness whichshowed that the serious work had begun. It was to betaken as gravely, and in as businesslike a way, as anyother transaction of life.

“Well, you know what we have to contend against, butwe too, are not without strength. We have on our sidepower of combination, a power denied to the vampirekind, we have sources of science, we are free to act andthink, and the hours of the day and the night are ours

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equally. In fact, so far as our powers extend, they are un-fettered, and we are free to use them. We have self devo-tion in a cause and an end to achieve which is not a selfishone. These things are much.

“Now let us see how far the general powers arrayedagainst us are restrict, and how the individual cannot. Infine, let us consider the limitations of the vampire in gen-eral, and of this one in particular.

“All we have to go upon are traditions and supersti-tions. These do not at the first appear much, when thematter is one of life and death, nay of more than eitherlife or death. Yet must we be satisfied, in the first placebecause we have to be, no other means is at our control,and secondly, because, after all these things, tradition andsuperstition, are everything. Does not the belief in vam-pires rest for others, though not, alas! for us, on them? Ayear ago which of us would have received such a possibil-ity, in the midst of our scientific, sceptical, matter-of-factnineteenth century? We even scouted a belief that we sawjustified under our very eyes. Take it, then, that the vam-pire, and the belief in his limitations and his cure, rest forthe moment on the same base. For, let me tell you, he isknown everywhere that men have been. In old Greece, inold Rome, he flourish in Germany all over, in France, in

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India, even in the Chermosese, and in China, so far fromus in all ways, there even is he, and the peoples for himat this day. He have follow the wake of the berserker Ice-lander, the devil-begotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, theMagyar.

“So far, then, we have all we may act upon, and let metell you that very much of the beliefs are justified by whatwe have seen in our own so unhappy experience. Thevampire live on, and cannot die by mere passing of thetime, he can flourish when that he can fatten on the bloodof the living. Even more, we have seen amongst us thathe can even grow younger, that his vital faculties growstrenuous, and seem as though they refresh themselveswhen his special pabulum is plenty.

“But he cannot flourish without this diet, he eat notas others. Even friend Jonathan, who lived with himfor weeks, did never see him eat, never! He throwsno shadow, he make in the mirror no reflect, as againJonathan observe. He has the strength of many of hishand, witness again Jonathan when he shut the dooragainst the wolves, and when he help him from the dili-gence too. He can transform himself to wolf, as we gatherfrom the ship arrival in Whitby, when he tear open thedog, he can be as bat, as Madam Mina saw him on the

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window at Whitby, and as friend John saw him fly fromthis so near house, and as my friend Quincey saw him atthe window of Miss Lucy.

“He can come in mist which he create, that noble ship’scaptain proved him of this, but, from what we know, thedistance he can make this mist is limited, and it can onlybe round himself.

“He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust, asagain Jonathan saw those sisters in the castle of Drac-ula. He become so small, we ourselves saw Miss Lucy,ere she was at peace, slip through a hairbreadth space atthe tomb door. He can, when once he find his way, comeout from anything or into anything, no matter how closeit be bound or even fused up with fire, solder you call it.He can see in the dark, no small power this, in a worldwhich is one half shut from the light. Ah, but hear methrough.

“He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay, he iseven more prisoner than the slave of the galley, than themadman in his cell. He cannot go where he lists, he whois not of nature has yet to obey some of nature’s laws, whywe know not. He may not enter anywhere at the first,unless there be some one of the household who bid him

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to come, though afterwards he can come as he please. Hispower ceases, as does that of all evil things, at the comingof the day.

“Only at certain times can he have limited freedom.If he be not at the place whither he is bound, he canonly change himself at noon or at exact sunrise or sun-set. These things we are told, and in this record of ourswe have proof by inference. Thus, whereas he can do ashe will within his limit, when he have his earth-home, hiscoffin-home, his hell-home, the place unhallowed, as wesaw when he went to the grave of the suicide at Whitby,still at other time he can only change when the time come.It is said, too, that he can only pass running water at theslack or the flood of the tide. Then there are things whichso afflict him that he has no power, as the garlic that weknow of, and as for things sacred, as this symbol, my cru-cifix, that was amongst us even now when we resolve,to them he is nothing, but in their presence he take hisplace far off and silent with respect. There are others, too,which I shall tell you of, lest in our seeking we may needthem.

“The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that hemove not from it, a sacred bullet fired into the coffin killhim so that he be true dead, and as for the stake through

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him, we know already of its peace, or the cut off head thatgiveth rest. We have seen it with our eyes.

“Thus when we find the habitation of this man-that-was, we can confine him to his coffin and destroy him, ifwe obey what we know. But he is clever. I have askedmy friend Arminius, of Buda-Pesth University, to makehis record, and from all the means that are, he tell meof what he has been. He must, indeed, have been thatVoivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk,over the great river on the very frontier of Turkeyland.If it be so, then was he no common man, for in that time,and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverestand the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sonsof the ‘land beyond the forest.’ That mighty brain andthat iron resolution went with him to his grave, and areeven now arrayed against us. The Draculas were, saysArminius, a great and noble race, though now and againwere scions who were held by their coevals to have haddealings with the Evil One. They learned his secrets inthe Scholomance, amongst the mountains over Lake Her-manstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as hisdue. In the records are such words as ‘stregoica’ witch,‘ordog’ and ‘pokol’ Satan and hell, and in one manuscriptthis very Dracula is spoken of as ‘wampyr,’ which we

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all understand too well. There have been from the loinsof this very one great men and good women, and theirgraves make sacred the earth where alone this foulnesscan dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that thisevil thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of holymemories it cannot rest.”

Whilst they were talking Mr. Morris was lookingsteadily at the window, and he now got up quietly, andwent out of the room. There was a little pause, and thenthe Professor went on.

“And now we must settle what we do. We have heremuch data, and we must proceed to lay out our cam-paign. We know from the inquiry of Jonathan that fromthe castle to Whitby came fifty boxes of earth, all of whichwere delivered at Carfax, we also know that at least someof these boxes have been removed. It seems to me, thatour first step should be to ascertain whether all the rest re-main in the house beyond that wall where we look today,or whether any more have been removed. If the latter, wemust trace...”

Here we were interrupted in a very startling way. Out-side the house came the sound of a pistol shot, the glass ofthe window was shattered with a bullet, which ricochet-

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ting from the top of the embrasure, struck the far wallof the room. I am afraid I am at heart a coward, for Ishrieked out. The men all jumped to their feet, Lord Go-dalming flew over to the window and threw up the sash.As he did so we heard Mr. Morris’ voice without, “Sorry!I fear I have alarmed you. I shall come in and tell youabout it.”

A minute later he came in and said, “It was an idioticthing of me to do, and I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harker,most sincerely, I fear I must have frightened you terribly.But the fact is that whilst the Professor was talking therecame a big bat and sat on the window sill. I have gotsuch a horror of the damned brutes from recent eventsthat I cannot stand them, and I went out to have a shot,as I have been doing of late of evenings, whenever I haveseen one. You used to laugh at me for it then, Art.”

“Did you hit it?” asked Dr. Van Helsing.“I don’t know, I fancy not, for it flew away into the

wood.” Without saying any more he took his seat, andthe Professor began to resume his statement.

“We must trace each of these boxes, and when we areready, we must either capture or kill this monster in hislair, or we must, so to speak, sterilize the earth, so that

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no more he can seek safety in it. Thus in the end we mayfind him in his form of man between the hours of noonand sunset, and so engage with him when he is at hismost weak.

“And now for you, Madam Mina, this night is the enduntil all be well. You are too precious to us to have suchrisk. When we part tonight, you no more must question.We shall tell you all in good time. We are men and are ableto bear, but you must be our star and our hope, and weshall act all the more free that you are not in the danger,such as we are.”

All the men, even Jonathan, seemed relieved, but it didnot seem to me good that they should brave danger and,perhaps lessen their safety, strength being the best safety,through care of me, but their minds were made up, andthough it was a bitter pill for me to swallow, I could saynothing, save to accept their chivalrous care of me.

Mr. Morris resumed the discussion, “As there is notime to lose, I vote we have a look at his house right now.Time is everything with him, and swift action on our partmay save another victim.”

I own that my heart began to fail me when the time foraction came so close, but I did not say anything, for I had

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a greater fear that if I appeared as a drag or a hindrance totheir work, they might even leave me out of their counselsaltogether. They have now gone off to Carfax, with meansto get into the house.

Manlike, they had told me to go to bed and sleep, as ifa woman can sleep when those she loves are in danger!I shall lie down, and pretend to sleep, lest Jonathan haveadded anxiety about me when he returns.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

1 October, 4 A.M.–Just as we were about to leave thehouse, an urgent message was brought to me from Ren-field to know if I would see him at once, as he had some-thing of the utmost importance to say to me. I told themessenger to say that I would attend to his wishes in themorning, I was busy just at the moment.

The attendant added, “He seems very importunate, sir.I have never seen him so eager. I don’t know but what,if you don’t see him soon, he will have one of his violentfits.” I knew the man would not have said this withoutsome cause, so I said, “All right, I’ll go now,” and I askedthe others to wait a few minutes for me, as I had to go andsee my patient.

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“Take me with you, friend John,” said the Professor.“His case in your diary interest me much, and it had bear-ing, too, now and again on our case. I should much liketo see him, and especial when his mind is disturbed.”

“May I come also?” asked Lord Godalming.

“Me too?” said Quincey Morris. “May I come?” saidHarker. I nodded, and we all went down the passage to-gether.

We found him in a state of considerable excitement, butfar more rational in his speech and manner than I hadever seen him. There was an unusual understanding ofhimself, which was unlike anything I had ever met within a lunatic, and he took it for granted that his reasonswould prevail with others entirely sane. We all five wentinto the room, but none of the others at first said anything.His request was that I would at once release him fromthe asylum and send him home. This he backed up witharguments regarding his complete recovery, and adducedhis own existing sanity.

“I appeal to your friends,” he said, “they will, perhaps,not mind sitting in judgement on my case. By the way,you have not introduced me.”

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I was so much astonished, that the oddness of intro-ducing a madman in an asylum did not strike me at themoment, and besides, there was a certain dignity in theman’s manner, so much of the habit of equality, that I atonce made the introduction, “Lord Godalming, ProfessorVan Helsing, Mr. Quincey Morris, of Texas, Mr. JonathanHarker, Mr. Renfield.”

He shook hands with each of them, saying in turn,“Lord Godalming, I had the honour of seconding yourfather at the Windham; I grieve to know, by your holdingthe title, that he is no more. He was a man loved and hon-oured by all who knew him, and in his youth was, I haveheard, the inventor of a burnt rum punch, much patron-ized on Derby night. Mr. Morris, you should be proud ofyour great state. Its reception into the Union was a prece-dent which may have far-reaching effects hereafter, whenthe Pole and the Tropics may hold alliance to the Stars andStripes. The power of Treaty may yet prove a vast engineof enlargement, when the Monroe doctrine takes its trueplace as a political fable. What shall any man say of hispleasure at meeting Van Helsing? Sir, I make no apologyfor dropping all forms of conventional prefix. When anindividual has revolutionized therapeutics by his discov-ery of the continuous evolution of brain matter, conven-

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tional forms are unfitting, since they would seem to limithim to one of a class. You, gentlemen, who by national-ity, by heredity, or by the possession of natural gifts, arefitted to hold your respective places in the moving world,I take to witness that I am as sane as at least the majorityof men who are in full possession of their liberties. And Iam sure that you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian and medico-jurist as well as scientist, will deem it a moral duty to dealwith me as one to be considered as under exceptional cir-cumstances.” He made this last appeal with a courtly airof conviction which was not without its own charm.

I think we were all staggered. For my own part, I wasunder the conviction, despite my knowledge of the man’scharacter and history, that his reason had been restored,and I felt under a strong impulse to tell him that I was sat-isfied as to his sanity, and would see about the necessaryformalities for his release in the morning. I thought it bet-ter to wait, however, before making so grave a statement,for of old I knew the sudden changes to which this partic-ular patient was liable. So I contented myself with mak-ing a general statement that he appeared to be improvingvery rapidly, that I would have a longer chat with him inthe morning, and would then see what I could do in thedirection of meeting his wishes.

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This did not at all satisfy him, for he said quickly, “ButI fear, Dr. Seward, that you hardly apprehend my wish.I desire to go at once, here, now, this very hour, this verymoment, if I may. Time presses, and in our implied agree-ment with the old scytheman it is of the essence of thecontract. I am sure it is only necessary to put before soadmirable a practitioner as Dr. Seward so simple, yet somomentous a wish, to ensure its fulfilment.”

He looked at me keenly, and seeing the negative in myface, turned to the others, and scrutinized them closely.Not meeting any sufficient response, he went on, “Is itpossible that I have erred in my supposition?”

“You have,” I said frankly, but at the same time, as Ifelt, brutally.

There was a considerable pause, and then he saidslowly, “Then I suppose I must only shift my ground ofrequest. Let me ask for this concession, boon, privilege,what you will. I am content to implore in such a case,not on personal grounds, but for the sake of others. I amnot at liberty to give you the whole of my reasons, butyou may, I assure you, take it from me that they are goodones, sound and unselfish, and spring from the highestsense of duty.

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“Could you look, sir, into my heart, you would ap-prove to the full the sentiments which animate me. Nay,more, you would count me amongst the best and truestof your friends.”

Again he looked at us all keenly. I had a growing con-viction that this sudden change of his entire intellectualmethod was but yet another phase of his madness, andso determined to let him go on a little longer, knowingfrom experience that he would, like all lunatics, give him-self away in the end. Van Helsing was gazing at himwith a look of utmost intensity, his bushy eyebrows al-most meeting with the fixed concentration of his look. Hesaid to Renfield in a tone which did not surprise me atthe time, but only when I thought of it afterwards, forit was as of one addressing an equal, “Can you not tellfrankly your real reason for wishing to be free tonight? Iwill undertake that if you will satisfy even me, a stranger,without prejudice, and with the habit of keeping an openmind, Dr. Seward will give you, at his own risk and onhis own responsibility, the privilege you seek.”

He shook his head sadly, and with a look of poignantregret on his face. The Professor went on, “Come, sir, be-think yourself. You claim the privilege of reason in thehighest degree, since you seek to impress us with your

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complete reasonableness. You do this, whose sanity wehave reason to doubt, since you are not yet released frommedical treatment for this very defect. If you will nothelp us in our effort to choose the wisest course, how canwe perform the duty which you yourself put upon us?Be wise, and help us, and if we can we shall aid you toachieve your wish.”

He still shook his head as he said, “Dr. Van Helsing, Ihave nothing to say. Your argument is complete, and if Iwere free to speak I should not hesitate a moment, but Iam not my own master in the matter. I can only ask youto trust me. If I am refused, the responsibility does notrest with me.”

I thought it was now time to end the scene, whichwas becoming too comically grave, so I went towards thedoor, simply saying, “Come, my friends, we have workto do. Goodnight.”

As, however, I got near the door, a new change cameover the patient. He moved towards me so quickly thatfor the moment I feared that he was about to make an-other homicidal attack. My fears, however, were ground-less, for he held up his two hands imploringly, and madehis petition in a moving manner. As he saw that the

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very excess of his emotion was militating against him,by restoring us more to our old relations, he became stillmore demonstrative. I glanced at Van Helsing, and sawmy conviction reflected in his eyes, so I became a littlemore fixed in my manner, if not more stern, and motionedto him that his efforts were unavailing. I had previouslyseen something of the same constantly growing excite-ment in him when he had to make some request of whichat the time he had thought much, such for instance, aswhen he wanted a cat, and I was prepared to see the col-lapse into the same sullen acquiescence on this occasion.

My expectation was not realized, for when he foundthat his appeal would not be successful, he got into quitea frantic condition. He threw himself on his knees, andheld up his hands, wringing them in plaintive supplica-tion, and poured forth a torrent of entreaty, with the tearsrolling down his cheeks, and his whole face and form ex-pressive of the deepest emotion.

“Let me entreat you, Dr. Seward, oh, let me imploreyou, to let me out of this house at once. Send me awayhow you will and where you will, send keepers with mewith whips and chains, let them take me in a strait waist-coat, manacled and leg-ironed, even to gaol, but let mego out of this. You don’t know what you do by keeping

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me here. I am speaking from the depths of my heart, ofmy very soul. You don’t know whom you wrong, or how,and I may not tell. Woe is me! I may not tell. By all youhold sacred, by all you hold dear, by your love that is lost,by your hope that lives, for the sake of the Almighty, takeme out of this and save my soul from guilt! Can’t youhear me, man? Can’t you understand? Will you neverlearn? Don’t you know that I am sane and earnest now,that I am no lunatic in a mad fit, but a sane man fightingfor his soul? Oh, hear me! Hear me! Let me go, let me go,let me go!”

I thought that the longer this went on the wilder hewould get, and so would bring on a fit, so I took him bythe hand and raised him up.

“Come,” I said sternly, “no more of this, we have hadquite enough already. Get to your bed and try to behavemore discreetly.”

He suddenly stopped and looked at me intently forseveral moments. Then, without a word, he rose andmoving over, sat down on the side of the bed. The col-lapse had come, as on former occasions, just as I had ex-pected.

When I was leaving the room, last of our party, he said

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to me in a quiet, well-bred voice, “You will, I trust, Dr.Seward, do me the justice to bear in mind, later on, that Idid what I could to convince you tonight.”

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

1 October, 5 A.M.–I went with the party to the searchwith an easy mind, for I think I never saw Mina so abso-lutely strong and well. I am so glad that she consentedto hold back and let us men do the work. Somehow, itwas a dread to me that she was in this fearful business atall, but now that her work is done, and that it is due toher energy and brains and foresight that the whole storyis put together in such a way that every point tells, shemay well feel that her part is finished, and that she canhenceforth leave the rest to us. We were, I think, all a lit-tle upset by the scene with Mr. Renfield. When we came

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away from his room we were silent till we got back to thestudy.

Then Mr. Morris said to Dr. Seward, “Say, Jack, if thatman wasn’t attempting a bluff, he is about the sanest lu-natic I ever saw. I’m not sure, but I believe that he hadsome serious purpose, and if he had, it was pretty roughon him not to get a chance.”

Lord Godalming and I were silent, but Dr. Van Hels-ing added, “Friend John, you know more lunatics thanI do, and I’m glad of it, for I fear that if it had beento me to decide I would before that last hysterical out-burst have given him free. But we live and learn, and inour present task we must take no chance, as my friendQuincey would say. All is best as they are.”

Dr. Seward seemed to answer them both in a dreamykind of way, “I don’t know but that I agree with you. Ifthat man had been an ordinary lunatic I would have takenmy chance of trusting him, but he seems so mixed upwith the Count in an indexy kind of way that I am afraidof doing anything wrong by helping his fads. I can’t for-get how he prayed with almost equal fervor for a cat, andthen tried to tear my throat out with his teeth. Besides,he called the Count ‘lord and master’, and he may want

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to get out to help him in some diabolical way. That hor-rid thing has the wolves and the rats and his own kind tohelp him, so I suppose he isn’t above trying to use a re-spectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though.I only hope we have done what is best. These things, inconjunction with the wild work we have in hand, help tounnerve a man.”

The Professor stepped over, and laying his hand on hisshoulder, said in his grave, kindly way, “Friend John,have no fear. We are trying to do our duty in a verysad and terrible case, we can only do as we deem best.What else have we to hope for, except the pity of the goodGod?”

Lord Godalming had slipped away for a few minutes,but now he returned. He held up a little silver whistle ashe remarked, “That old place may be full of rats, and ifso, 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 thelawn when the moonlight shone out. When we got to theporch the Professor opened his bag and took out a lot ofthings, which he laid on the step, sorting them into fourlittle groups, evidently one for each. Then he spoke.

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“My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, andwe need arms of many kinds. Our enemy is not merelyspiritual. Remember that he has the strength of twentymen, and that, though our necks or our windpipes areof the common kind, and therefore breakable or crush-able, his are not amenable to mere strength. A strongerman, or a body of men more strong in all than him, canat certain times hold him, but they cannot hurt him aswe can be hurt by him. We must, therefore, guard our-selves from his touch. Keep this near your heart.” Ashe spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and held it outto me, I being nearest to him, “put these flowers roundyour neck,” here he handed to me a wreath of witheredgarlic blossoms, “for other enemies more mundane, thisrevolver and this knife, and for aid in all, these so smallelectric lamps, which you can fasten to your breast, andfor all, and above all at the last, this, which we must notdesecrate needless.”

This was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put inan envelope and handed to me. Each of the others wassimilarly equipped.

“Now,” he said, “friend John, where are the skeletonkeys? If so that we can open the door, we need not breakhouse by the window, as before at Miss Lucy’s.”

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Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechan-ical dexterity as a surgeon standing him in good stead.Presently he got one to suit, after a little play back and for-ward the bolt yielded, and with a rusty clang, shot back.We pressed on the door, the rusty hinges creaked, and itslowly opened. It was startlingly like the image conveyedto me in Dr. Seward’s diary of the opening of Miss West-enra’s tomb, I fancy that the same idea seemed to strikethe others, for with one accord they shrank back. The Pro-fessor was the first to move forward, and stepped into theopen door.

“In manus tuas, Domine!” he said, crossing himself ashe passed over the threshold. We closed the door behindus, lest when we should have lit our lamps we shouldpossibly attract attention from the road. The Professorcarefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to openit 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 oddforms, as the rays crossed each other, or the opacity ofour bodies threw great shadows. I could not for my lifeget away from the feeling that there was someone elseamongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so power-fully brought home to me by the grim surroundings, of

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that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think the feel-ing was common to us all, for I noticed that the otherskept looking over their shoulders at every sound and ev-ery new shadow, just as I felt myself doing.

The whole place was thick with dust. The floor wasseemingly inches deep, except where there were recentfootsteps, in which on holding down my lamp I could seemarks of hobnails where the dust was cracked. The wallswere fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the corners weremasses of spider’s webs, whereon the dust had gatheredtill they looked like old tattered rags as the weight hadtorn them partly down. On a table in the hall was a greatbunch of keys, with a time-yellowed label on each. Theyhad been used several times, for on the table were severalsimilar rents in the blanket of dust, similar to that exposedwhen 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 atleast more than we do. Which is the way to the chapel?”

I had an idea of its direction, though on my former visitI had not been able to get admission to it, so I led the way,and after a few wrong turnings found myself opposite alow, arched oaken door, ribbed with iron bands.

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“This is the spot,” said the Professor as he turned hislamp on a small map of the house, copied from the fileof my original correspondence regarding the purchase.With a little trouble we found the key on the bunch andopened the door. We were prepared for some unpleasant-ness, for as we were opening the door a faint, malodor-ous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of usever expected such an odour as we encountered. None ofthe others had met the Count at all at close quarters, andwhen I had seen him he was either in the fasting stageof his existence in his rooms or, when he was bloatedwith fresh blood, in a ruined building open to the air, buthere the place was small and close, and the long disusehad made the air stagnant and foul. There was an earthysmell, as of some dry miasma, which came through thefouler air. But as to the odour itself, how shall I describeit? It was not alone that it was composed of all the ills ofmortality and with the pungent, acrid smell of blood, butit seemed as though corruption had become itself corrupt.Faugh! It sickens me to think of it. Every breath exhaledby that monster seemed to have clung to the place andintensified its loathsomeness.

Under ordinary circumstances such a stench wouldhave brought our enterprise to an end, but this was no or-

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dinary case, and the high and terrible purpose in whichwe were involved gave us a strength which rose abovemerely physical considerations. After the involuntaryshrinking consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we oneand all set about our work as though that loathsome placewere a garden of roses.

We made an accurate examination of the place, the Pro-fessor saying as we began, “The first thing is to see howmany of the boxes are left, we must then examine everyhole and corner and cranny and see if we cannot get someclue 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 nomistaking them.

There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty! OnceI got a fright, for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turnand look out of the vaulted door into the dark passagebeyond, I looked too, and for an instant my heart stoodstill. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, I seemedto see the high lights of the Count’s evil face, the ridgeof the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. Itwas only for a moment, for, as Lord Godalming said, “Ithought I saw a face, but it was only the shadows,” and

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resumed his inquiry, I turned my lamp in the direction,and stepped into the passage. There was no sign of any-one, and as there were no corners, no doors, no apertureof any kind, but only the solid walls of the passage, therecould be no hiding place even for him. I took it that fearhad helped imagination, and said nothing.

A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly backfrom a corner, which he was examining. We all followedhis movements with our eyes, for undoubtedly some ner-vousness was growing on us, and we saw a whole massof phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars. We all in-stinctively drew back. The whole place was becomingalive with rats.

For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save LordGodalming, who was seemingly prepared for such anemergency. Rushing over to the great iron-bound oakendoor, which Dr. Seward had described from the outside,and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in thelock, drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open.Then, taking his little silver whistle from his pocket, heblew a low, shrill call. It was answered from behind Dr.Seward’s house by the yelping of dogs, and after abouta minute three terriers came dashing round the corner ofthe house. Unconsciously we had all moved towards the

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door, and as we moved I noticed that the dust had beenmuch disturbed. The boxes which had been taken outhad been brought this way. But even in the minute thathad elapsed the number of the rats had vastly increased.They seemed to swarm over the place all at once, till thelamplight, shining on their moving dark bodies and glit-tering, baleful eyes, made the place look like a bank ofearth set with fireflies. The dogs dashed on, but at thethreshold suddenly stopped and snarled, and then, si-multaneously lifting their noses, began to howl in mostlugubrious fashion. The rats were multiplying in thou-sands, and we moved out.

Lord Godalming lifted one of the dogs, and carryinghim in, placed him on the floor. The instant his feettouched the ground he seemed to recover his courage,and rushed at his natural enemies. They fled before himso fast that before he had shaken the life out of a score,the other dogs, who had by now been lifted in the samemanner, had but small prey ere the whole mass had van-ished.

With their going it seemed as if some evil presence haddeparted, for the dogs frisked about and barked merrilyas they made sudden darts at their prostrate foes, andturned them over and over and tossed them in the air

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with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise.Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphereby the opening of the chapel door, or the relief whichwe experienced by finding ourselves in the open I knownot, but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed toslip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our com-ing lost something of its grim significance, though wedid not slacken a whit in our resolution. We closed theouter door and barred and locked it, and bringing thedogs with us, began our search of the house. We foundnothing throughout except dust in extraordinary propor-tions, and all untouched save for my own footsteps whenI had made my first visit. Never once did the dogs exhibitany symptom of uneasiness, and even when we returnedto the chapel they frisked about as though they had beenrabbit hunting in a summer wood.

The morning was quickening in the east when weemerged from the front. Dr. Van Helsing had taken thekey of the hall door from the bunch, and locked the doorin orthodox fashion, putting the key into his pocket whenhe had done.

“So far,” he said, “our night has been eminently suc-cessful. No harm has come to us such as I feared might beand yet we have ascertained how many boxes are miss-

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ing. More than all do I rejoice that this, our first, andperhaps our most difficult and dangerous, step has beenaccomplished without the bringing thereinto our mostsweet Madam Mina or troubling her waking or sleep-ing thoughts with sights and sounds and smells of horrorwhich she might never forget. One lesson, too, we havelearned, if it be allowable to argue a particulari, that thebrute beasts which are to the Count’s command are yetthemselves not amenable to his spiritual power, for look,these rats that would come to his call, just as from his cas-tle top he summon the wolves to your going and to thatpoor mother’s cry, though they come to him, they runpell-mell from the so little dogs of my friend Arthur. Wehave other matters before us, other dangers, other fears,and that monster... He has not used his power over thebrute world for the only or the last time tonight. So beit that he has gone elsewhere. Good! It has given us op-portunity to cry ‘check’ in some ways in this chess game,which we play for the stake of human souls. And nowlet us go home. The dawn is close at hand, and we havereason to be content with our first night’s work. It may beordained that we have many nights and days to follow, iffull of peril, but we must go on, and from no danger shallwe shrink.”

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The house was silent when we got back, save for somepoor creature who was screaming away in one of the dis-tant wards, and a low, moaning sound from Renfield’sroom. The poor wretch was doubtless torturing himself,after the manner of the insane, with needless thoughts ofpain.

I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Minaasleep, breathing so softly that I had to put my ear downto hear it. She looks paler than usual. I hope the meetingtonight has not upset her. I am truly thankful that she isto be left out of our future work, and even of our delib-erations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. Idid not think so at first, but I know better now. ThereforeI am glad that it is settled. There may be things whichwould frighten her to hear, and yet to conceal them fromher might be worse than to tell her if once she suspectedthat there was any concealment. Henceforth our work isto be a sealed book to her, till at least such time as wecan tell her that all is finished, and the earth free from amonster of the nether world. I daresay it will be difficultto begin to keep silence after such confidence as ours, butI must be resolute, and tomorrow I shall keep dark overtonight’s doings, and shall refuse to speak of anythingthat has happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to disturb

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her.

1 October, later.–I suppose it was natural that weshould have all overslept ourselves, for the day was abusy one, and the night had no rest at all. Even Minamust have felt its exhaustion, for though I slept till thesun was high, I was awake before her, and had to calltwo or three times before she awoke. Indeed, she wasso sound asleep that for a few seconds she did not rec-ognize 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 tilllater in the day. We now know of twenty-one boxes hav-ing been removed, and if it be that several were taken inany of these removals we may be able to trace them all.Such will, of course, immensely simplify our labor, andthe sooner the matter is attended to the better. I shall lookup Thomas Snelling today.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

1 October.–It was towards noon when I was awakenedby the Professor walking into my room. He was morejolly and cheerful than usual, and it is quite evident that

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last night’s work has helped to take some of the broodingweight off his mind.

After going over the adventure of the night he sud-denly said, “Your patient interests me much. May it bethat with you I visit him this morning? Or if that you aretoo occupy, I can go alone if it may be. It is a new expe-rience to me to find a lunatic who talk philosophy, andreason so sound.”

I had some work to do which pressed, so I told him thatif he would go alone I would be glad, as then I should nothave to keep him waiting, so I called an attendant andgave him the necessary instructions. Before the Professorleft the room I cautioned him against getting any falseimpression from my patient.

“But,” he answered, “I want him to talk of himself andof his delusion as to consuming live things. He said toMadam Mina, as I see in your diary of yesterday, that hehad once had such a belief. Why do you smile, friendJohn?”

“Excuse me,” I said, “but the answer is here.” I laidmy hand on the typewritten matter. “When our sane andlearned lunatic made that very statement of how he usedto consume life, his mouth was actually nauseous with

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the flies and spiders which he had eaten just before Mrs.Harker entered the room.”

Van Helsing smiled in turn. “Good!” he said. “Yourmemory is true, friend John. I should have remembered.And yet it is this very obliquity of thought and mem-ory which makes mental disease such a fascinating study.Perhaps I may gain more knowledge out of the folly ofthis madman than I shall from the teaching of the mostwise. Who knows?”

I went on with my work, and before long was throughthat in hand. It seemed that the time had been very shortindeed, but there was Van Helsing back in the study.

“Do I interrupt?” he asked politely as he stood at thedoor.

“Not at all,” I answered. “Come in. My work is fin-ished, 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 inter-

view was short. When I entered his room he was sittingon a stool in the centre, with his elbows on his knees, andhis face was the picture of sullen discontent. I spoke to

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him as cheerfully as I could, and with such a measure ofrespect as I could assume. He made no reply whatever.‘Don’t you know me?’ I asked. His answer was not reas-suring: ‘I know you well enough; you are the old fool VanHelsing. I wish you would take yourself and your idioticbrain theories somewhere else. Damn all thick-headedDutchmen!’ Not a word more would he say, but sat in hisimplacable sullenness as indifferent to me as though I hadnot been in the room at all. Thus departed for this timemy chance of much learning from this so clever lunatic,so I shall go, if I may, and cheer myself with a few happywords with that sweet soul Madam Mina. Friend John,it does rejoice me unspeakable that she is no more to bepained, 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 answeredearnestly, for I did not want him to weaken in this mat-ter. “Mrs. Harker is better out of it. Things are quite badenough for us, all men of the world, and who have beenin many tight places in our time, but it is no place for awoman, 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. Harkerand Harker, Quincey and Art are all out following up the

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clues as to the earth boxes. I shall finish my round of workand we shall meet tonight.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

1 October.–It is strange to me to be kept in the dark asI am today, after Jonathan’s full confidence for so manyyears, to see him manifestly avoid certain matters, andthose the most vital of all. This morning I slept late afterthe fatigues of yesterday, and though Jonathan was latetoo, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he wentout, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never men-tioned a word of what had happened in the visit to theCount’s house. And yet he must have known how terri-bly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow! I suppose it musthave distressed him even more than it did me. They allagreed that it was best that I should not be drawn furtherinto this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think thathe keeps anything from me! And now I am crying likea silly fool, when I know it comes from my husband’sgreat love and from the good, good wishes of those otherstrong men.

That has done me good. Well, some day Jonathan willtell me all. And lest it should ever be that he should think

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for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keepmy journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust Ishall show it to him, with every thought of my heart putdown for his dear eyes to read. I feel strangely sad andlow-spirited today. I suppose it is the reaction from theterrible excitement.

Last night I went to bed when the men had gone, sim-ply because they told me to. I didn’t feel sleepy, and I didfeel full of devouring anxiety. I kept thinking over every-thing that has been ever since Jonathan came to see mein London, and it all seems like a horrible tragedy, withfate pressing on relentlessly to some destined end. Every-thing that one does seems, no matter how right it may be,to bring on the very thing which is most to be deplored. IfI hadn’t gone to Whitby, perhaps poor dear Lucy wouldbe with us now. She hadn’t taken to visiting the church-yard till I came, and if she hadn’t come there in the daytime with me she wouldn’t have walked in her sleep. Andif she hadn’t gone there at night and asleep, that monstercouldn’t have destroyed her as he did. Oh, why did I evergo to Whitby? There now, crying again! I wonder whathas come over me today. I must hide it from Jonathan, forif he knew that I had been crying twice in one morning...I, who never cried on my own account, and whom he has

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never caused to shed a tear, the dear fellow would fret hisheart 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 lessonsthat we poor women have to learn...

I can’t quite remember how I fell asleep last night. Iremember hearing the sudden barking of the dogs and alot of queer sounds, like praying on a very tumultuousscale, from Mr. Renfield’s room, which is somewhere un-der this. And then there was silence over everything, si-lence so profound that it startled me, and I got up andlooked out of the window. All was dark and silent, theblack shadows thrown by the moonlight seeming full ofa silent mystery of their own. Not a thing seemed to bestirring, but all to be grim and fixed as death or fate, sothat a thin streak of white mist, that crept with almost im-perceptible slowness across the grass towards the house,seemed to have a sentience and a vitality of its own. Ithink that the digression of my thoughts must have doneme good, for when I got back to bed I found a lethargycreeping over me. I lay a while, but could not quite sleep,so I got out and looked out of the window again. The mistwas spreading, and was now close up to the house, sothat I could see it lying thick against the wall, as thoughit were stealing up to the windows. The poor man was

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more loud than ever, and though I could not distinguisha word he said, I could in some way recognize in his tonessome passionate entreaty on his part. Then there was thesound of a struggle, and I knew that the attendants weredealing with him. I was so frightened that I crept intobed, and pulled the clothes over my head, putting myfingers in my ears. I was not then a bit sleepy, at leastso I thought, but I must have fallen asleep, for exceptdreams, I do not remember anything until the morning,when Jonathan woke me. I think that it took me an effortand a little time to realize where I was, and that it wasJonathan who was bending over me. My dream was verypeculiar, and was almost typical of the way that wakingthoughts become merged in, or continued in, dreams.

I thought that I was asleep, and waiting for Jonathanto come back. I was very anxious about him, and I waspowerless to act, my feet, and my hands, and my brainwere weighted, so that nothing could proceed at the usualpace. And so I slept uneasily and thought. Then it be-gan 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 gaslightwhich I had left lit for Jonathan, but turned down, cameonly like a tiny red spark through the fog, which had ev-

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idently grown thicker and poured into the room. Thenit occurred to me that I had shut the window before Ihad come to bed. I would have got out to make certainon the point, but some leaden lethargy seemed to chainmy limbs and even my will. I lay still and endured, thatwas all. I closed my eyes, but could still see through myeyelids. (It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us,and how conveniently we can imagine.) The mist grewthicker and thicker and I could see now how it came in,for I could see it like smoke, or with the white energyof boiling water, pouring in, not through the window, butthrough the joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker,till it seemed as if it became concentrated into a sort of pil-lar of cloud in the room, through the top of which I couldsee the light of the gas shining like a red eye. Things be-gan to whirl through my brain just as the cloudy columnwas now whirling in the room, and through it all camethe scriptural words “a pillar of cloud by day and of fireby night.” Was it indeed such spiritual guidance that wascoming to me in my sleep? But the pillar was composedof both the day and the night guiding, for the fire wasin the red eye, which at the thought got a new fascina-tion for me, till, as I looked, the fire divided, and seemedto shine on me through the fog like two red eyes, such

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as Lucy told me of in her momentary mental wanderingwhen, on the cliff, the dying sunlight struck the windowsof St. Mary’s Church. Suddenly the horror burst uponme that it was thus that Jonathan had seen those awfulwomen growing into reality through the whirling mistin the moonlight, and in my dream I must have fainted,for all became black darkness. The last conscious effortwhich imagination made was to show me a livid whiteface bending over me out of the mist.

I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseatone’s reason if there were too much of them. I would getDr. Van Helsing or Dr. Seward to prescribe something forme which would make me sleep, only that I fear to alarmthem. Such a dream at the present time would becomewoven into their fears for me. Tonight I shall strive hardto sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall tomorrow night getthem to give me a dose of chloral, that cannot hurt me foronce, and it will give me a good night’s sleep. Last nighttired 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 byJonathan coming to bed, but the sleep has not refreshedme, for today I feel terribly weak and spiritless. I spentall yesterday trying to read, or lying down dozing. In the

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afternoon, Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poorman, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissedmy hand and bade God bless me. Some way it affectedme much. I am crying when I think of him. This is a newweakness, of which I must be careful. Jonathan would bemiserable if he knew I had been crying. He and the oth-ers were out till dinner time, and they all came in tired. Idid what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose thatthe effort did me good, for I forgot how tired I was. Af-ter dinner they sent me to bed, and all went off to smoketogether, as they said, but I knew that they wanted to telleach other of what had occurred to each during the day.I could see from Jonathan’s manner that he had some-thing important to communicate. I was not so sleepy asI should have been, so before they went I asked Dr. Se-ward to give me a little opiate of some kind, as I had notslept well the night before. He very kindly made me upa sleeping draught, which he gave to me, telling me thatit would do me no harm, as it was very mild... I havetaken it, and am waiting for sleep, which still keeps aloof.I hope I have not done wrong, for as sleep begins to flirtwith me, a new fear comes: that I may have been foolishin thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I mightwant it. Here comes sleep. Goodnight.

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

1 October, evening.–I found Thomas Snelling in hishouse at Bethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in acondition to remember anything. The very prospect ofbeer which my expected coming had opened to him hadproved too much, and he had begun too early on his ex-pected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, whoseemed a decent, poor soul, that he was only the assis-tant of Smollet, who of the two mates was the responsi-ble person. So off I drove to Walworth, and found Mr.Joseph Smollet at home and in his shirtsleeves, taking a

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late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent, intelligent fellow,distinctly a good, reliable type of workman, and with aheadpiece of his own. He remembered all about the inci-dent of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog-eared note-book, which he produced from some mysterious recepta-cle about the seat of his trousers, and which had hiero-glyphical entries in thick, half-obliterated pencil, he gaveme the destinations of the boxes. There were, he said,six in the cartload which he took from Carfax and left at197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and anothersix which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. Ifthen the Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges ofhis over London, these places were chosen as the firstof delivery, so that later he might distribute more fully.The systematic manner in which this was done made methink that he could not mean to confine himself to twosides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on thenorthern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and onthe south. The north and west were surely never meant tobe left out of his diabolical scheme, let alone the City itselfand the very heart of fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to Smollet, and asked him ifhe could tell us if any other boxes had been taken fromCarfax.

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He replied, “Well guv’nor, you’ve treated me very‘an’some“, I had given him half a sovereign, “an I’ll tellyer all I know. I heard a man by the name of Bloxam sayfour nights ago in the ‘Are an’ ‘Ounds, in Pincher’s Al-ley, as ‘ow he an’ his mate ‘ad ‘ad a rare dusty job in aold ‘ouse at Purfleet. There ain’t a many such jobs as this‘ere, an’ I’m thinkin’ that maybe Sam Bloxam could tellye summut.”

I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I toldhim that if he could get me the address it would be worthanother half sovereign to him. So he gulped down therest of his tea and stood up, saying that he was going tobegin 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 findSam soon, or I mayn’t, but anyhow he ain’t like to be ina way to tell ye much tonight. Sam is a rare one when hestarts on the booze. If you can give me a envelope with astamp on it, and put yer address on it, I’ll find out whereSam is to be found and post it ye tonight. But ye’d betterbe up arter ‘im soon in the mornin’, never mind the boozethe night afore.”

This was all practical, so one of the children went off

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with a penny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, andto keep the change. When she came back, I addressed theenvelope and stamped it, and when Smollet had againfaithfully promised to post the address when found, Itook my way to home. We’re on the track anyhow. I amtired tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast asleep,and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though shehad been crying. Poor dear, I’ve no doubt it frets her tobe kept in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxiousabout me and the others. But it is best as it is. It is betterto be disappointed and worried in such a way now thanto have her nerve broken. The doctors were quite rightto insist on her being kept out of this dreadful business. Imust be firm, for on me this particular burden of silencemust rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with herunder any circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hardtask, after all, for she herself has become reticent on thesubject, and has not spoken of the Count or his doingsever 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 dirtyscrap of paper enclosed, on which was written with a car-penter’s pencil in a sprawling hand, “Sam Bloxam, Ko-rkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk for

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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 re-turn from this new search, I would arrange for her goingback to Exeter. I think she would be happier in our ownhome, with her daily tasks to interest her, than in beinghere amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr. Sewardfor a moment, and told him where I was off to, promis-ing to come back and tell the rest so soon as I should havefound out anything. I drove to Walworth and found, withsome difficulty, Potter’s Court. Mr. Smollet’s spellingmisled me, as I asked for Poter’s Court instead of Pot-ter’s Court. However, when I had found the court, I hadno 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 ‘imin all my bloomin’ days. Don’t believe there ain’t nobodyof that kind livin’ ‘ere or anywheres.”

I took out Smollet’s letter, and as I read it it seemed tome that the lesson of the spelling of the name of the courtmight guide me. “What are you?” I asked.

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“I’m the depity,” he answered.

I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phoneticspelling had again misled me. A half crown tip put thedeputy’s knowledge at my disposal, and I learned thatMr. Bloxam, who had slept off the remains of his beeron the previous night at Corcoran’s, had left for his workat Poplar at five o’clock that morning. He could not tellme where the place of work was situated, but he hada vague idea that it was some kind of a “new-fangledware’us,” and with this slender clue I had to start forPoplar. It was twelve o’clock before I got any satisfac-tory hint of such a building, and this I got at a coffeeshop, where some workmen were having their dinner.One of them suggested that there was being erected atCross Angel Street a new “cold storage” building, and asthis suited the condition of a “new-fangled ware’us,” I atonce drove to it. An interview with a surly gatekeeperand a surlier foreman, both of whom were appeased withthe coin of the realm, put me on the track of Bloxam. Hewas sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to payhis days wages to his foreman for the privilege of ask-ing him a few questions on a private matter. He was asmart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bear-ing. When I had promised to pay for his information and

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given him an earnest, he told me that he had made twojourneys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, andhad taken from this house to the latter nine great boxes,“main heavy ones,” with a horse and cart hired by himfor this purpose.

I asked him if he could tell me the number of the housein Piccadilly, to which he replied, “Well, guv’nor, I forgitsthe number, but it was only a few door from a big whitechurch, or somethink of the kind, not long built. It wasa dusty old ‘ouse, too, though nothin’ to the dustiness ofthe ‘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’ inthe ‘ouse at Purfleet. He ‘elped me to lift the boxes andput them in the dray. Curse me, but he was the strongestchap I ever struck, an’ him a old feller, with a white mous-tache, one that thin you would think he couldn’t throw ashadder.”

How this phrase thrilled through me!

“Why, ‘e took up ‘is end o’ the boxes like they waspounds of tea, and me a puffin’ an’ a blowin’ afore I couldupend mine anyhow, an’ I’m no chicken, neither.”

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“How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?” Iasked.

“He was there too. He must ‘a started off and got thereafore me, for when I rung of the bell he kem an’ openedthe 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 sec-

ond. 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’ ‘ighsteps up to the door. I know them steps, ‘avin’ ‘ad to carrythe boxes up with three loafers what come round to earn

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a copper. The old gent give them shillin’s, an’ they seein’they got so much, they wanted more. But ‘e took one ofthem by the shoulder and was like to throw ‘im down thesteps, till the lot of them went away cussin’.”

I thought that with this description I could find thehouse, so having paid my friend for his information, Istarted off for Piccadilly. I had gained a new painful ex-perience. The Count could, it was evident, handle theearth boxes himself. If so, time was precious, for nowthat he had achieved a certain amount of distribution,he could, by choosing his own time, complete the taskunobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cab,and walked westward. Beyond the Junior ConstitutionalI came across the house described and was satisfied thatthis was the next of the lairs arranged by Dracula. Thehouse looked as though it had been long untenanted.The windows were encrusted with dust, and the shut-ters were up. All the framework was black with time,and from the iron the paint had mostly scaled away. Itwas evident that up to lately there had been a large no-tice board in front of the balcony. It had, however, beenroughly torn away, the uprights which had supported itstill remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw therewere some loose boards, whose raw edges looked white.

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I would have given a good deal to have been able to seethe notice board intact, as it would, perhaps, have givensome clue to the ownership of the house. I rememberedmy experience of the investigation and purchase of Car-fax, and I could not but feel that if I could find the formerowner there might be some means discovered of gainingaccess to the house.

There was at present nothing to be learned from thePiccadilly side, and nothing could be done, so I wentaround to the back to see if anything could be gatheredfrom this quarter. The mews were active, the Piccadillyhouses being mostly in occupation. I asked one or twoof the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if theycould tell me anything about the empty house. One ofthem said that he heard it had lately been taken, but hecouldn’t say from whom. He told me, however, that up tovery lately there had been a notice board of “For Sale” up,and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons,’ Candy the house agentscould tell me something, as he thought he rememberedseeing the name of that firm on the board. I did not wishto seem too eager, or to let my informant know or guesstoo much, so thanking him in the usual manner, I strolledaway. It was now growing dusk, and the autumn nightwas closing in, so I did not lose any time. Having learned

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the address of Mitchell, Sons,’ Candy from a directory atthe Berkeley, I was soon at their office in Sackville Street.

The gentleman who saw me was particularly suavein manner, but uncommunicative in equal proportion.Having once told me that the Piccadilly house, whichthroughout our interview he called a “mansion,” wassold, he considered my business as concluded. WhenI asked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes athought wider, and paused a few seconds before reply-ing, “It is sold, sir.”

“Pardon me,” I said, with equal politeness, “but I havea special reason for wishing to know who purchased it.”

Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows stillmore. “It is sold, sir,” was again his laconic reply.

“Surely,” I said, “you do not mind letting me know somuch.”

“But I do mind,” he answered. “The affairs of theirclients are absolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons,’Candy.”

This was manifestly a prig of the first water, and therewas no use arguing with him. I thought I had best meethim on his own ground, so I said, “Your clients, sir, are

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happy in having so resolute a guardian of their confi-dence. I am myself a professional man.”

Here I handed him my card. “In this instance I amnot prompted by curiosity, I act on the part of Lord Go-dalming, who wishes to know something of the propertywhich was, he understood, lately for sale.”

These words put a different complexion on affairs. Hesaid, “I would like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker,and especially would I like to oblige his lordship. Weonce carried out a small matter of renting some chambersfor him when he was the honourable Arthur Holmwood.If you will let me have his lordship’s address I will con-sult the House on the subject, and will, in any case, com-municate with his lordship by tonight’s post. It will be apleasure if we can so far deviate from our rules as to givethe 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 andcame away. It was now dark, and I was tired and hungry.I got a cup of tea at the Aerated Bread Company and camedown to Purfleet by the next train.

I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tiredand pale, but she made a gallant effort to be bright and

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cheerful. It wrung my heart to think that I had had tokeep anything from her and so caused her inquietude.Thank God, this will be the last night of her looking onat our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not show-ing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to thewise resolution of keeping her out of our grim task. Sheseems somehow more reconciled, or else the very subjectseems to have become repugnant to her, for when any ac-cidental allusion is made she actually shudders. I am gladwe made our resolution in time, as with such a feeling asthis, our growing knowledge would be torture to her.

I could not tell the others of the day’s discovery till wewere alone, so after dinner, followed by a little music tosave appearances even amongst ourselves, I took Mina toher room and left her to go to bed. The dear girl was moreaffectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as thoughshe would detain me, but there was much to be talked ofand I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of telling thingshas made no difference between us.

When I came down again I found the others all gath-ered round the fire in the study. In the train I had writtenmy diary so far, and simply read it off to them as the bestmeans of letting them get abreast of my own information.

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When I had finished Van Helsing said, “This has beena great day’s work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are onthe track of the missing boxes. If we find them all in thathouse, then our work is near the end. But if there be somemissing, we must search until we find them. Then shallwe make our final coup, and hunt the wretch to his realdeath.”

We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morrisspoke, “Say! How are we going to get into that house?”

“We got into the other,” answered Lord Godalmingquickly.

“But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax,but we had night and a walled park to protect us. It willbe a mighty different thing to commit burglary in Pic-cadilly, either by day or night. I confess I don’t see howwe are going to get in unless that agency duck can find usa key of some sort.”

Lord Godalming’s brows contracted, and he stood upand walked about the room. By-and-by he stopped andsaid, turning from one to another of us, “Quincey’s headis level. This burglary business is getting serious. We gotoff once all right, but we have now a rare job on hand.Unless we can find the Count’s key basket.”

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As nothing could well be done before morning, and asit would be at least advisable to wait till Lord Godalmingshould hear from Mitchell’s, we decided not to take anyactive step before breakfast time. For a good while we satand smoked, discussing the matter in its various lightsand bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing this di-ary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall goto bed...

Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing isregular. Her forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles,as though she thinks even in her sleep. She is still toopale, but does not look so haggard as she did this morn-ing. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all this. She will beherself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am sleepy!

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

1 October.–I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. Hismoods change so rapidly that I find it difficult to keeptouch of them, and as they always mean something morethan his own well-being, they form a more than interest-ing study. This morning, when I went to see him afterhis repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man

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commanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding des-tiny, subjectively. He did not really care for any of thethings of mere earth, he was in the clouds and lookeddown on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor mor-tals.

I thought I would improve the occasion and learnsomething, so I asked him, “What about the flies thesetimes?”

He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way, sucha smile as would have become the face of Malvolio, ashe answered me, “The fly, my dear sir, has one strikingfeature. It’s wings are typical of the aerial powers of thepsychic faculties. The ancients did well when they typi-fied the soul as a butterfly!”

I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logi-cally, so I said quickly, “Oh, it is a soul you are after now,is it?”

His madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled lookspread over his face as, shaking his head with a decisionwhich I had but seldom seen in him.

He said, “Oh, no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all Iwant.” Here he brightened up. “I am pretty indifferentabout it at present. Life is all right. I have all I want.

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You must get a new patient, doctor, if you wish to studyzoophagy!”

This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on. “Then youcommand life. You are a god, I suppose?”

He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. “Ohno! Far be it from me to arrogate to myself the attributesof the Deity. I am not even concerned in His especiallyspiritual doings. If I may state my intellectual position Iam, so far as concerns things purely terrestrial, somewhatin the position which Enoch occupied spiritually!”

This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recallEnoch’s appositeness, so I had to ask a simple question,though I felt that by so doing I was lowering myself in theeyes of the lunatic. “And why with Enoch?”

“Because he walked with God.”

I could not see the analogy, but did not like to admitit, so I harked back to what he had denied. “So you don’tcare about life and you don’t want souls. Why not?” I putmy question quickly and somewhat sternly, on purposeto disconcert him.

The effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciouslyrelapsed into his old servile manner, bent low before me,

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and actually fawned upon me as he replied. “I don’t wantany souls, indeed, indeed! I don’t. I couldn’t use them ifI had them. They would be no manner of use to me. Icouldn’t eat them or...”

He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spreadover his face, like a wind sweep on the surface of the wa-ter.

“And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you’vegot all you require, and you know that you will neverwant, that is all. I have friends, good friends, like you,Dr. Seward.” This was said with a leer of inexpressiblecunning. “I know that I shall never lack the means oflife!”

I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity hesaw some antagonism in me, for he at once fell back onthe last refuge of such as he, a dogged silence. Aftera short time I saw that for the present it was useless tospeak to him. He was sulky, and so I came away.

Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I wouldnot have come without special reason, but just at presentI am so interested in him that I would gladly make aneffort. Besides, I am glad to have anything to help passthe time. Harker is out, following up clues, and so are

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Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in mystudy poring over the record prepared by the Harkers.He seems to think that by accurate knowledge of all de-tails he will light up on some clue. He does not wish to bedisturbed in the work, without cause. I would have takenhim with me to see the patient, only I thought that afterhis last repulse he might not care to go again. There wasalso another reason. Renfield might not speak so freelybefore a third person as when he and I were alone.

I found him sitting in the middle of the floor on hisstool, a pose which is generally indicative of some mentalenergy on his part. When I came in, he said at once, asthough the question had been waiting on his lips. “Whatabout souls?”

It was evident then that my surmise had been correct.Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even withthe 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 findsome inspiration for an answer.

“I don’t want any souls!” he said in a feeble, apologeticway. The matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I

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determined to use it, to “be cruel only to be kind.” So Isaid, “You like life, and you want life?”

“Oh yes! But that is all right. You needn’t worry aboutthat!”

“But,” I asked, “how are we to get the life without get-ting the soul also?”

This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up, “A nicetime you’ll have some time when you’re flying out here,with the souls of thousands of flies and spiders and birdsand cats buzzing and twittering and moaning all aroundyou. You’ve got their lives, you know, and you must putup with their souls!”

Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he puthis fingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing themup tightly just as a small boy does when his face is beingsoaped. There was something pathetic in it that touchedme. It also gave me a lesson, for it seemed that before mewas a child, only a child, though the features were worn,and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was evident thathe was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,and knowing how his past moods had interpreted thingsseemingly foreign to himself, I thought I would enter intohis mind as well as I could and go with him.

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The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me throughhis closed ears, “Would you like some sugar to get yourflies 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 theirsouls buzzing round me, all the same.”

“Or spiders?” I went on.

“Blow spiders! What’s the use of spiders? There isn’tanything in them to eat or...” He stopped suddenly asthough reminded of a forbidden topic.

“So, so!” I thought to myself, “this is the second timehe has suddenly stopped at the word ‘drink’. What doesit mean?”

Renfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse,for he hurried on, as though to distract my attention fromit, “I don’t take any stock at all in such matters. ‘Rats andmice and such small deer,’ as Shakespeare has it, ‘chickenfeed of the larder’ they might be called. I’m past all thatsort of nonsense. You might as well ask a man to eatmolecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to try to interest

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me about the less carnivora, when I know of what is be-fore me.”

“I see,” I said. “You want big things that you can makeyour teeth meet in? How would you like to breakfast onan elephant?”

“What ridiculous nonsense you are talking?” He wasgetting too wide awake, so I thought I would press himhard.

“I wonder,” I said reflectively, “what an elephant’s soulis like!”

The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fellfrom his high-horse and became a child again.

“I don’t want an elephant’s soul, or any soul at all!” hesaid. For a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenlyhe jumped to his feet, with his eyes blazing and all thesigns of intense cerebral excitement. “To hell with youand your souls!” he shouted. “Why do you plague meabout souls? Haven’t I got enough to worry, and pain, todistract me already, without thinking of souls?”

He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for an-other homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle.

The instant, however, that I did so he became calm, andsaid apologetically, “Forgive me, Doctor. I forgot myself.

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You do not need any help. I am so worried in my mindthat I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew the prob-lem I have to face, and that I am working out, you wouldpity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray do not put mein a strait waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot thinkfreely when my body is confined. I am sure you will un-derstand!”

He had evidently self-control, so when the attendantscame I told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Ren-field watched them go. When the door was closed he saidwith considerable dignity and sweetness, “Dr. Seward,you have been very considerate towards me. Believe methat I am very, very grateful to you!”

I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so Icame away. There is certainly something to ponder overin this man’s state. Several points seem to make what theAmerican interviewer calls “a story,” if one could only getthem in proper order. Here they are:

Will not mention “drinking.”

Fears the thought of being burdened with the “soul” ofanything.

Has no dread of wanting “life” in the future.

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Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though hedreads being haunted by their souls.

Logically all these things point one way! He has assur-ance of some kind that he will acquire some higher life.

He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Thenit 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 think-ing the matter over for a while asked me to take him toRenfield. I did so. As we came to the door we heard thelunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the timewhich now seems so long ago.

When we entered we saw with amazement that he hadspread out his sugar as of old. The flies, lethargic withthe autumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. Wetried to make him talk of the subject of our previous con-versation, but he would not attend. He went on with hissinging, just as though we had not been present. He hadgot a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebook.We had to come away as ignorant as we went in.

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His is a curious case indeed. We must watch himtonight.

LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS’ CANDY TO LORDGODALMING.

“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 Lord-ship, expressed by Mr. Harker on your behalf, to supplythe following information concerning the sale and pur-chase of No. 347, Piccadilly. The original vendors are theexecutors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. Thepurchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de Ville, who ef-fected the purchase himself paying the purchase moneyin notes ‘over the counter,’ if your Lordship will pardonus using so vulgar an expression. Beyond this we knownothing whatever of him.

“We are, my Lord,“Your Lordship’s humble servants,“MITCHELL, SONS’ CANDY.”

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

2 October.–I placed a man in the corridor last night, andtold him to make an accurate note of any sound he mighthear from Renfield’s room, and gave him instructions thatif there should be anything strange he was to call me. Af-ter dinner, when we had all gathered round the fire in thestudy, Mrs. Harker having gone to bed, we discussed theattempts and discoveries of the day. Harker was the onlyone who had any result, and we are in great hopes thathis clue may be an important one.

Before going to bed I went round to the patient’s roomand looked in through the observation trap. He wassleeping soundly, his heart rose and fell with regular res-piration.

This morning the man on duty reported to me that alittle after midnight he was restless and kept saying hisprayers somewhat loudly. I asked him if that was all. Hereplied that it was all he heard. There was somethingabout his manner, so suspicious that I asked him pointblank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admit-ted to having “dozed” for a while. It is too bad that mencannot be trusted unless they are watched.

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Today Harker is out following up his clue, and Art andQuincey are looking after horses. Godalming thinks thatit will be well to have horses always in readiness, forwhen we get the information which we seek there willbe no time to lose. We must sterilize all the importedearth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catchthe Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to.Van Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up someauthorities on ancient medicine. The old physicians tookaccount of things which their followers do not accept,and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cureswhich may be useful to us later.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shallwake to sanity in strait waistcoats.

Later.–We have met again. We seem at last to be on thetrack, and our work of tomorrow may be the beginning ofthe end. I wonder if Renfield’s quiet has anything to dowith this. His moods have so followed the doings of theCount, that the coming destruction of the monster may becarried to him some subtle way. If we could only get somehint as to what passed in his mind, between the time ofmy argument with him today and his resumption of fly-catching, it might afford us a valuable clue. He is nowseemingly quiet for a spell... Is he? That wild yell seemed

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to come from his room...The attendant came bursting into my room and told me

that Renfield had somehow met with some accident. Hehad heard him yell, and when he went to him found himlying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood. Imust go at once...

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

3 October.–Let me put down with exactness all thathappened, as well as I can remember, since last I madean 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 onthe floor on his left side in a glittering pool of blood.When I went to move him, it became at once apparentthat he had received some terrible injuries. There seemednone of the unity of purpose between the parts of thebody which marks even lethargic sanity. As the face

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was exposed I could see that it was horribly bruised, asthough it had been beaten against the floor. Indeed it wasfrom the face wounds that the pool of blood originated.

The attendant who was kneeling beside the body saidto me as we turned him over, “I think, sir, his back isbroken. See, both his right arm and leg and the wholeside of his face are paralysed.” How such a thing couldhave happened puzzled the attendant beyond measure.He seemed quite bewildered, and his brows were gath-ered in as he said, “I can’t understand the two things. Hecould mark his face like that by beating his own head onthe floor. I saw a young woman do it once at the Evers-field Asylum before anyone could lay hands on her. AndI suppose he might have broken his neck by falling out ofbed, if he got in an awkward kink. But for the life of meI can’t imagine how the two things occurred. If his backwas broke, he couldn’t beat his head, and if his face waslike that before the fall out of bed, there would be marksof it.”

I said to him, “Go to Dr. Van Helsing, and ask him tokindly come here at once. I want him without an instant’sdelay.”

The man ran off, and within a few minutes the Profes-

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sor, in his dressing gown and slippers, appeared. Whenhe saw Renfield on the ground, he looked keenly at hima moment, and then turned to me. I think he recognizedmy thought in my eyes, for he said very quietly, mani-festly 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 waseasy to see that he had suffered some terrible injury.

Van Helsing returned with extraordinary celerity, bear-ing with him a surgical case. He had evidently beenthinking and had his mind made up, for almost beforehe looked at the patient, he whispered to me, “Send theattendant away. We must be alone with him when he be-comes conscious, after the operation.”

I said, “I think that will do now, Simmons. We havedone all that we can at present. You had better go yourround, and Dr. Van Helsing will operate. Let me knowinstantly if there be anything unusual anywhere.”

The man withdrew, and we went into a strict examina-tion of the patient. The wounds of the face were superfi-cial. The real injury was a depressed fracture of the skull,

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extending right up through the motor area.

The Professor thought a moment and said, “We mustreduce the pressure and get back to normal conditions,as far as can be. The rapidity of the suffusion shows theterrible nature of his injury. The whole motor area seemsaffected. 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 thedoor. I went over and opened it and found in the cor-ridor without, Arthur and Quincey in pajamas and slip-pers; the former spoke, “I heard your man call up Dr. VanHelsing and tell him of an accident. So I woke Quinceyor rather called for him as he was not asleep. Things aremoving too quickly and too strangely for sound sleep forany of us these times. I’ve been thinking that tomorrownight will not see things as they have been. We’ll have tolook 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 attitudeand state of the patient, and noted the horrible pool onthe floor, he said softly, “My God! What has happened tohim? Poor, poor devil!”

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I told him briefly, and added that we expected hewould recover consciousness after the operation, for ashort time, at all events. He went at once and sat downon the edge of the bed, with Godalming beside him. Weall watched in patience.

“We shall wait,” said Van Helsing, “just long enoughto fix the best spot for trephining, so that we may mostquickly and perfectly remove the blood clot, for it is evi-dent that the haemorrhage is increasing.”

The minutes during which we waited passed with fear-ful slowness. I had a horrible sinking in my heart, andfrom Van Helsing’s face I gathered that he felt some fearor apprehension as to what was to come. I dreaded thewords Renfield might speak. I was positively afraid tothink. 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. Eachinstant he seemed as though he would open his eyesand speak, but then would follow a prolonged stertorousbreath, and he would relapse into a more fixed insensibil-ity. Inured as I was to sick beds and death, this suspensegrew and grew upon me. I could almost hear the beatingof my own heart, and the blood surging through my tem-ples sounded like blows from a hammer. The silence fi-

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nally became agonizing. I looked at my companions, oneafter another, and saw from their flushed faces and dampbrows that they were enduring equal torture. There wasa nervous suspense over us all, as though overhead somedread bell would peal out powerfully when we shouldleast expect it.

At last there came a time when it was evident that thepatient was sinking fast. He might die at any moment. Ilooked up at the Professor and caught his eyes fixed onmine. His face was sternly set as he spoke, “There is notime to lose. His words may be worth many lives. I havebeen thinking so, as I stood here. It may be there is a soulat stake! We shall operate just above the ear.”

Without another word he made the operation. For afew moments the breathing continued to be stertorous.Then there came a breath so prolonged that it seemed asthough it would tear open his chest. Suddenly his eyesopened, and became fixed in a wild, helpless stare. Thiswas continued for a few moments, then it was softenedinto a glad surprise, and from his lips came a sigh of relief.He moved convulsively, and as he did so, said, “I’ll bequiet, Doctor. Tell them to take off the strait waistcoat. Ihave had a terrible dream, and it has left me so weak thatI cannot move. What’s wrong with my face? It feels all

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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 yourdream, Mr. Renfield.”

As he heard the voice his face brightened, through itsmutilation, and he said, “That is Dr. Van Helsing. Howgood it is of you to be here. Give me some water, my lipsare dry, and I shall try to tell you. I dreamed...”

He stopped and seemed fainting. I called quietly toQuincey, “The brandy, it is in my study, quick!” He flewand returned with a glass, the decanter of brandy and acarafe of water. We moistened the parched lips, and thepatient quickly revived.

It seemed, however, that his poor injured brain hadbeen working in the interval, for when he was quite con-scious, he looked at me piercingly with an agonized con-fusion which I shall never forget, and said, “I must notdeceive myself. It was no dream, but all a grim reality.”Then his eyes roved round the room. As they caught sightof the two figures sitting patiently on the edge of the bedhe went on, “If I were not sure already, I would knowfrom them.”

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For an instant his eyes closed, not with pain or sleepbut voluntarily, as though he were bringing all his fac-ulties 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 min-utes, and then I must go back to death, or worse! Wet mylips with brandy again. I have something that I must saybefore I die. Or before my poor crushed brain dies any-how. Thank you! It was that night after you left me, whenI 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, ex-cept in that way, as I am now. I was in an agony of despairfor a long time after you left me, it seemed hours. Thenthere came a sudden peace to me. My brain seemed tobecome cool again, and I realized where I was. I heardthe dogs bark behind our house, but not where He was!”

As he spoke, Van Helsing’s eyes never blinked, but hishand came out and met mine and gripped it hard. Hedid not, however, betray himself. He nodded slightly andsaid, “Go on,” in a low voice.

Renfield proceeded. “He came up to the window in themist, as I had seen him often before, but he was solid then,not a ghost, and his eyes were fierce like a man’s whenangry. He was laughing with his red mouth, the sharp

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white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he turned tolook back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs werebarking. I wouldn’t ask him to come in at first, though Iknew he wanted to, just as he had wanted all along. Thenhe began promising me things, not in words but by doingthem.”

He was interrupted by a word from the Professor,“How?”

“By making them happen. Just as he used to send inthe flies when the sun was shining. Great big fat oneswith 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 un-consciously, “The Acherontia Atropos of the Sphinges,what you call the ‘Death’s-head Moth’?”

The patient went on without stopping, “Then he be-gan to whisper. ‘Rats, rats, rats! Hundreds, thousands,millions of them, and every one a life. And dogs to eatthem, and cats too. All lives! All red blood, with yearsof life in it, and not merely buzzing flies!’ I laughed athim, for I wanted to see what he could do. Then the dogshowled, away beyond the dark trees in His house. Hebeckoned me to the window. I got up and looked out,

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and He raised his hands, and seemed to call out with-out using any words. A dark mass spread over the grass,coming on like the shape of a flame of fire. And thenHe moved the mist to the right and left, and I could seethat there were thousands of rats with their eyes blazingred, like His only smaller. He held up his hand, and theyall stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, ‘Allthese lives will I give you, ay, and many more and greater,through countless ages, if you will fall down and wor-ship me!’ And then a red cloud, like the colour of blood,seemed to close over my eyes, and before I knew what Iwas doing, I found myself opening the sash and sayingto Him, ‘Come in, Lord and Master!’ The rats were allgone, but He slid into the room through the sash, thoughit was only open an inch wide, just as the Moon herselfhas often come in through the tiniest crack and has stoodbefore me in all her size and splendour.”

His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lips with thebrandy again, and he continued, but it seemed as thoughhis memory had gone on working in the interval for hisstory was further advanced. I was about to call him backto the point, but Van Helsing whispered to me, “Let himgo on. Do not interrupt him. He cannot go back, andmaybe could not proceed at all if once he lost the thread

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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 wasshut, and did not even knock, I got mad with him. Hesneered at me, and his white face looked out of the mistwith his red eyes gleaming, and he went on as though heowned the whole place, and I was no one. He didn’t evensmell the same as he went by me. I couldn’t hold him. Ithought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker had come into theroom.”

The two men sitting on the bed stood up and cameover, 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, how-ever, grew grimmer and sterner still. Renfield went onwithout noticing, “When Mrs. Harker came in to see methis afternoon she wasn’t the same. It was like tea afterthe teapot has been watered.” Here we all moved, but noone said a word.

He went on, “I didn’t know that she was here till shespoke, and she didn’t look the same. I don’t care for the

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pale people. I like them with lots of blood in them, andhers all seemed to have run out. I didn’t think of it atthe time, but when she went away I began to think, andit made me mad to know that He had been taking thelife out of her.” I could feel that the rest quivered, as Idid; but we remained otherwise still. “So when He cametonight I was ready for Him. I saw the mist stealing in,and I grabbed it tight. I had heard that madmen haveunnatural strength. And as I knew I was a madman, attimes anyhow, I resolved to use my power. Ay, and Hefelt it too, for He had to come out of the mist to strugglewith me. I held tight, and I thought I was going to win, forI didn’t mean Him to take any more of her life, till I sawHis eyes. They burned into me, and my strength becamelike water. He slipped through it, and when I tried tocling to Him, He raised me up and flung me down. Therewas a red cloud before me, and a noise like thunder, andthe mist seemed to steal away under the door.”

His voice was becoming fainter and his breath morestertorous. Van Helsing stood up instinctively.

“We know the worst now,” he said. “He is here, andwe know his purpose. It may not be too late. Let us bearmed, the same as we were the other night, but lose notime, there is not an instant to spare.”

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There was no need to put our fear, nay our conviction,into words, we shared them in common. We all hurriedand took from our rooms the same things that we hadwhen we entered the Count’s house. The Professor hadhis ready, and as we met in the corridor he pointed tothem significantly as he said, “They never leave me, andthey shall not till this unhappy business is over. Be wisealso, my friends. It is no common enemy that we dealwith Alas! Alas! That dear Madam Mina should suffer!”He stopped, his voice was breaking, and I do not know ifrage or terror predominated in my own heart.

Outside the Harkers’ door we paused. Art andQuincey held back, and the latter said, “Should we dis-turb her?”

“We must,” said Van Helsing grimly. “If the door belocked, I shall break it in.”

“May it not frighten her terribly? It is unusual to breakinto a lady’s room!”

Van Helsing said solemnly, “You are always right. Butthis 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 notopen, do you put your shoulder down and shove; and

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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 crashit burst open, and we almost fell headlong into the room.The Professor did actually fall, and I saw across him as hegathered himself up from hands and knees. What I sawappalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on the back ofmy neck, and my heart seemed to stand still.

The moonlight was so bright that through the thick yel-low blind the room was light enough to see. On the bedbeside the window lay Jonathan Harker, his face flushedand breathing heavily as though in a stupor. Kneeling onthe 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 in-stant we saw we all recognized the Count, in every way,even to the scar on his forehead. With his left hand heheld both Mrs. Harker’s hands, keeping them away withher arms at full tension. His right hand gripped her bythe back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom.Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thinstream trickled down the man’s bare chest which wasshown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two hada terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten’s nose

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into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink. As we burstinto the room, the Count turned his face, and the hellishlook that I had heard described seemed to leap into it. Hiseyes flamed red with devilish passion. The great nostrilsof the white aquiline nose opened wide and quivered atthe edge, and the white sharp teeth, behind the full lipsof the blood dripping mouth, clamped together like thoseof a wild beast. With a wrench, which threw his victimback upon the bed as though hurled from a height, heturned and sprang at us. But by this time the Professorhad gained his feet, and was holding towards him theenvelope which contained the Sacred Wafer. The Countsuddenly stopped, just as poor Lucy had done outsidethe tomb, and cowered back. Further and further backhe cowered, as we, lifting our crucifixes, advanced. Themoonlight suddenly failed, as a great black cloud sailedacross the sky. And when the gaslight sprang up un-der Quincey’s match, we saw nothing but a faint vapour.This, as we looked, trailed under the door, which with therecoil from its bursting open, had swung back to its oldposition. Van Helsing, Art, and I moved forward to Mrs.Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath and withit had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing, so despair-ing that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till

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my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helplessattitude and disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallorwhich was accentuated by the blood which smeared herlips and cheeks and chin. From her throat trickled a thinstream of blood. Her eyes were mad with terror. Thenshe put before her face her poor crushed hands, whichbore on their whiteness the red mark of the Count’s ter-rible grip, and from behind them came a low desolatewail which made the terrible scream seem only the quickexpression of an endless grief. Van Helsing stepped for-ward and drew the coverlet gently over her body, whilstArt, after looking at her face for an instant despairingly,ran out of the room.

Van Helsing whispered to me, “Jonathan is in a stuporsuch as we know the Vampire can produce. We can donothing with poor Madam Mina for a few moments tillshe recovers herself. I must wake him!”

He dipped the end of a towel in cold water and with itbegan to flick him on the face, his wife all the while hold-ing her face between her hands and sobbing in a way thatwas heart breaking to hear. I raised the blind, and lookedout of the window. There was much moonshine, and asI looked I could see Quincey Morris run across the lawnand hide himself in the shadow of a great yew tree. It

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puzzled me to think why he was doing this. But at theinstant I heard Harker’s quick exclamation as he woke topartial consciousness, and turned to the bed. On his face,as there might well be, was a look of wild amazement. Heseemed dazed for a few seconds, and then full conscious-ness seemed to burst upon him all at once, and he startedup.

His wife was aroused by the quick movement, andturned to him with her arms stretched out, as though toembrace him. Instantly, however, she drew them in again,and putting her elbows together, held her hands beforeher face, and shuddered till the bed beneath her shook.

“In God’s name what does this mean?” Harker criedout. “Dr. Seward, Dr. Van Helsing, what is it? What hashappened? What is wrong? Mina, dear what is it? Whatdoes that blood mean? My God, my God! Has it come tothis!” And, raising himself to his knees, he beat his handswildly together. “Good God help us! Help her! Oh, helpher!”

With a quick movement he jumped from bed, and be-gan to pull on his clothes, all the man in him awake at theneed for instant exertion. “What has happened? Tell meall about it!” he cried without pausing. “Dr. Van Helsing,

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you love Mina, I know. Oh, do something to save her. Itcannot have gone too far yet. Guard her while I look forhim!”

His wife, through her terror and horror and distress,saw some sure danger to him. Instantly forgetting herown grief, she seized hold of him and cried out.

“No! No! Jonathan, you must not leave me. I havesuffered enough tonight, God knows, without the dreadof his harming you. You must stay with me. Stay withthese friends who will watch over you!” Her expressionbecame frantic as she spoke. And, he yielding to her, shepulled him down sitting on the bedside, and clung to himfiercely.

Van Helsing and I tried to calm them both. The Profes-sor held up his golden crucifix, and said with wonderfulcalmness, “Do not fear, my dear. We are here, and whilstthis is close to you no foul thing can approach. You aresafe for tonight, and we must be calm and take counseltogether.”

She shuddered and was silent, holding down her headon her husband’s breast. When she raised it, his whitenightrobe was stained with blood where her lips hadtouched, and where the thin open wound in the neck had

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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 nomore. Oh, that it should be that it is I who am now hisworst enemy, and whom he may have most cause to fear.”

To this he spoke out resolutely, “Nonsense, Mina. It isa shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it ofyou. And I shall not hear it from you. May God judge meby my deserts, and punish me with more bitter sufferingthan even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anythingever come between us!”

He put out his arms and folded her to his breast. Andfor a while she lay there sobbing. He looked at us overher bowed head, with eyes that blinked damply abovehis quivering nostrils. His mouth was set as steel.

After a while her sobs became less frequent and morefaint, and then he said to me, speaking with a studiedcalmness which I felt tried his nervous power to the ut-most.

“And now, Dr. Seward, tell me all about it. Too well Iknow the broad fact. Tell me all that has been.”

I told him exactly what had happened and he listenedwith seeming impassiveness, but his nostrils twitched

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and his eyes blazed as I told how the ruthless hands ofthe Count had held his wife in that terrible and horrid po-sition, with her mouth to the open wound in his breast. Itinterested me, even at that moment, to see that whilst theface of white set passion worked convulsively over thebowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked theruffled hair. Just as I had finished, Quincey and Godalm-ing knocked at the door. They entered in obedience toour summons. Van Helsing looked at me questioningly. Iunderstood him to mean if we were to take advantage oftheir coming to divert if possible the thoughts of the un-happy husband and wife from each other and from them-selves. So on nodding acquiescence to him he asked themwhat they had seen or done. To which Lord Godalminganswered.

“I could not see him anywhere in the passage, or in anyof our rooms. I looked in the study but, though he hadbeen there, he had gone. He had, however...” He stoppedsuddenly, looking at the poor drooping figure on the bed.

Van Helsing said gravely, “Go on, friend Arthur. Wewant here no more concealments. Our hope now is inknowing all. Tell freely!”

So Art went on, “He had been there, and though it

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could only have been for a few seconds, he made rare hayof the place. All the manuscript had been burned, andthe blue flames were flickering amongst the white ashes.The cylinders of your phonograph too were thrown onthe fire, and the wax had helped the flames.”

Here I interrupted. “Thank God there is the other copyin 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. Ilooked into Renfield’s room, but there was no trace thereexcept...” Again he paused.

“Go on,” said Harker hoarsely. So he bowed his headand moistening his lips with his tongue, added, “exceptthat the poor fellow is dead.”

Mrs. Harker raised her head, looking from one to theother of us she said solemnly, “God’s will be done!”

I could not but feel that Art was keeping back some-thing. But, as I took it that it was with a purpose, I saidnothing.

Van Helsing turned to Morris and asked, “And you,friend Quincey, have you any to tell?”

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“A little,” he answered. “It may be much eventually,but at present I can’t say. I thought it well to know if pos-sible where the Count would go when he left the house. Idid not see him, but I saw a bat rise from Renfield’s win-dow, and flap westward. I expected to see him in someshape go back to Carfax, but he evidently sought someother lair. He will not be back tonight, for the sky is red-dening in the east, and the dawn is close. We must worktomorrow!”

He said the latter words through his shut teeth. Fora space of perhaps a couple of minutes there was silence,and I could fancy that I could hear the sound of our heartsbeating.

Then Van Helsing said, placing his hand tenderly onMrs. Harker’s head, “And now, Madam Mina, poor dear,dear, Madam Mina, tell us exactly what happened. Godknows that I do not want that you be pained, but it is needthat we know all. For now more than ever has all work tobe done quick and sharp, and in deadly earnest. The dayis close to us that must end all, if it may be so, and now isthe chance that we may live and learn.”

The poor dear lady shivered, and I could see the ten-sion of her nerves as she clasped her husband closer to

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her and bent her head lower and lower still on his breast.Then she raised her head proudly, and held out one handto Van Helsing who took it in his, and after stooping andkissing it reverently, held it fast. The other hand waslocked in that of her husband, who held his other armthrown round her protectingly. After a pause in whichshe was evidently ordering her thoughts, she began.

“I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindlygiven me, but for a long time it did not act. I seemedto become more wakeful, and myriads of horrible fan-cies began to crowd in upon my mind. All of them con-nected with death, and vampires, with blood, and pain,and trouble.” Her husband involuntarily groaned as sheturned to him and said lovingly, “Do not fret, dear. Youmust be brave and strong, and help me through the hor-rible task. If you only knew what an effort it is to meto tell of this fearful thing at all, you would understandhow much I need your help. Well, I saw I must try tohelp the medicine to its work with my will, if it was todo me any good, so I resolutely set myself to sleep. Sureenough sleep must soon have come to me, for I rememberno more. Jonathan coming in had not waked me, for helay by my side when next I remember. There was in theroom the same thin white mist that I had before noticed.

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But I forget now if you know of this. You will find it in mydiary which I shall show you later. I felt the same vagueterror which had come to me before and the same senseof some presence. I turned to wake Jonathan, but foundthat he slept so soundly that it seemed as if it was he whohad taken the sleeping draught, and not I. I tried, but Icould not wake him. This caused me a great fear, andI looked around terrified. Then indeed, my heart sankwithin me. Beside the bed, as if he had stepped out of themist, or rather as if the mist had turned into his figure,for it had entirely disappeared, stood a tall, thin man, allin black. I knew him at once from the description of theothers. The waxen face, the high aquiline nose, on whichthe light fell in a thin white line, the parted red lips, withthe sharp white teeth showing between, and the red eyesthat I had seemed to see in the sunset on the windows ofSt. Mary’s Church at Whitby. I knew, too, the red scaron his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. For aninstant my heart stood still, and I would have screamedout, only that I was paralyzed. In the pause he spoke ina sort of keen, cutting whisper, pointing as he spoke toJonathan.

“‘Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him anddash his brains out before your very eyes.’ I was appalled

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and was too bewildered to do or say anything. With amocking smile, he placed one hand upon my shoulderand, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other,saying as he did so, ‘First, a little refreshment to rewardmy exertions. You may as well be quiet. It is not the firsttime, or the second, that your veins have appeased mythirst!’ I was bewildered, and strangely enough, I did notwant to hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horriblecurse that such is, when his touch is on his victim. Andoh, my God, my God, pity me! He placed his reekinglips upon my throat!” Her husband groaned again. Sheclasped his hand harder, and looked at him pityingly, asif he were the injured one, and went on.

“I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a halfswoon. How long this horrible thing lasted I know not,but it seemed that a long time must have passed beforehe took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw itdrip with the fresh blood!” The remembrance seemed fora while to overpower her, and she drooped and wouldhave 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 theothers, would play your brains against mine. You wouldhelp these men to hunt me and frustrate me in my design!

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You know now, and they know in part already, and willknow in full before long, what it is to cross my path. Theyshould have kept their energies for use closer to home.Whilst they played wits against me, against me who com-manded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought forthem, hundreds of years before they were born, I wascountermining them. And you, their best beloved one,are now to me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kinof my kin, my bountiful wine-press for a while, and shallbe later on my companion and my helper. You shall beavenged in turn, for not one of them but shall minister toyour needs. But as yet you are to be punished for whatyou have done. You have aided in thwarting me. Nowyou shall come to my call. When my brain says “Come!”to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my bidding. Andto that end this!’

“With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his longsharp nails opened a vein in his breast. When the bloodbegan to spurt out, he took my hands in one of his, hold-ing them tight, and with the other seized my neck andpressed my mouth to the wound, so that I must either suf-focate or swallow some to the... Oh, my God! My God!What have I done? What have I done to deserve such afate, I who have tried to walk in meekness and righteous-

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ness all my days. God pity me! Look down on a poorsoul in worse than mortal peril. And in mercy pity thoseto whom she is dear!” Then she began to rub her lips asthough to cleanse them from pollution.

As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky be-gan to quicken, and everything became more and moreclear. Harker was still and quiet; but over his face, as theawful narrative went on, came a grey look which deep-ened and deepened in the morning light, till when thefirst red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the fleshstood darkly out against the whitening hair.

We have arranged that one of us is to stay within callof the unhappy pair till we can meet together and arrangeabout taking action.

Of this I am sure. The sun rises today on no more mis-erable house in all the great round of its daily course.

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JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

3 October.–As I must do something or go mad, I writethis diary. It is now six o’clock, and we are to meet inthe study in half an hour and take something to eat, forDr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward are agreed that if wedo not eat we cannot work our best. Our best will be,God knows, required today. I must keep writing at everychance, for I dare not stop to think. All, big and little,must go down. Perhaps at the end the little things mayteach us most. The teaching, big or little, could not havelanded Mina or me anywhere worse than we are today.

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However, we must trust and hope. Poor Mina told mejust now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks,that it is in trouble and trial that our faith is tested. Thatwe must keep on trusting, and that God will aid us up tothe end. The end! Oh my God! What end?... To work! Towork!

When Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward had come backfrom seeing poor Renfield, we went gravely into whatwas to be done. First, Dr. Seward told us that when heand Dr. Van Helsing had gone down to the room belowthey had found Renfield lying on the floor, all in a heap.His face was all bruised and crushed in, and the bones ofthe neck were broken.

Dr. Seward asked the attendant who was on duty inthe passage if he had heard anything. He said that hehad been sitting down, he confessed to half dozing, whenhe heard loud voices in the room, and then Renfield hadcalled out loudly several times, “God! God! God!” Afterthat there was a sound of falling, and when he enteredthe room he found him lying on the floor, face down, justas the doctors had seen him. Van Helsing asked if he hadheard “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

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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 hedid not wish to go into the matter. The question of aninquest had to be considered, and it would never do toput forward the truth, as no one would believe it. As itwas, he thought that on the attendant’s evidence he couldgive a certificate of death by misadventure in falling frombed. In case the coroner should demand it, there wouldbe a formal inquest, necessarily to the same result.

When the question began to be discussed as to whatshould be our next step, the very first thing we decidedwas that Mina should be in full confidence. That nothingof any sort, no matter how painful, should be kept fromher. She herself agreed as to its wisdom, and it was pitifulto see her so brave and yet so sorrowful, and in such adepth of despair.

“There must be no concealment,” she said. “Alas! Wehave had too much already. And besides there is nothingin all the world that can give me more pain than I havealready endured, than I suffer now! Whatever may hap-pen, it must be of new hope or of new courage to me!”

Van Helsing was looking at her fixedly as she spoke,

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and said, suddenly but quietly, “But dear Madam Mina,are you not afraid. Not for yourself, but for others fromyourself, after what has happened?”

Her face grew set in its lines, but her eyes shone withthe devotion of a martyr as she answered, “Ah no! Formy mind is made up!”

“To what?” he asked gently, whilst we were all verystill, for each in our own way we had a sort of vague ideaof what she meant.

Her answer came with direct simplicity, as though shewas simply stating a fact, “Because if I find in myself, andI shall watch keenly for it, a sign of harm to any that Ilove, 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 closeto 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 findsuch an euthanasia for you, even at this moment if it werebest. Nay, were it safe! But my child...”

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For a moment he seemed choked, and a great sob rosein his throat. He gulped it down and went on, “There arehere some who would stand between you and death. Youmust not die. You must not die by any hand, but least ofall your own. Until the other, who has fouled your sweetlife, is true dead you must not die. For if he is still withthe quick Undead, your death would make you even ashe is. No, you must live! You must struggle and strive tolive, though death would seem a boon unspeakable. Youmust fight Death himself, though he come to you in painor in joy. By the day, or the night, in safety or in peril! Onyour 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 andshivered, as I have seen a quicksand shake and shiver atthe incoming of the tide. We were all silent. We could donothing. At length she grew more calm and turning tohim said sweetly, but oh so sorrowfully, as she held outher hand, “I promise you, my dear friend, that if God willlet me live, I shall strive to do so. Till, if it may be in Hisgood time, this horror may have passed away from me.”

She was so good and brave that we all felt that ourhearts were strengthened to work and endure for her, andwe began to discuss what we were to do. I told her that

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she was to have all the papers in the safe, and all thepapers or diaries and phonographs we might hereafteruse, 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 aninterest.

As usual Van Helsing had thought ahead of everyoneelse, and was prepared with an exact ordering of ourwork.

“It is perhaps well,” he said, “that at our meeting afterour visit to Carfax we decided not to do anything withthe earth boxes that lay there. Had we done so, the Countmust have guessed our purpose, and would doubtlesshave taken measures in advance to frustrate such an ef-fort with regard to the others. But now he does not knowour intentions. Nay, more, in all probability, he does notknow that such a power exists to us as can sterilize hislairs, so that he cannot use them as of old.

“We are now so much further advanced in our knowl-edge as to their disposition that, when we have exam-ined the house in Piccadilly, we may track the very last ofthem. Today then, is ours, and in it rests our hope. Thesun that rose on our sorrow this morning guards us in

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its course. Until it sets tonight, that monster must retainwhatever form he now has. He is confined within thelimitations of his earthly envelope. He cannot melt intothin air nor disappear through cracks or chinks or cran-nies. If he go through a doorway, he must open the doorlike a mortal. And so we have this day to hunt out allhis lairs and sterilize them. So we shall, if we have notyet catch him and destroy him, drive him to bay in someplace where the catching and the destroying shall be, intime, sure.”

Here I started up for I could not contain myself at thethought that the minutes and seconds so preciously ladenwith Mina’s life and happiness were flying from us, sincewhilst we talked action was impossible. But Van Helsingheld up his hand warningly.

“Nay, friend Jonathan,” he said, “in this, the quick-est way home is the longest way, so your proverb say.We shall all act and act with desperate quick, when thetime has come. But think, in all probable the key of thesituation is in that house in Piccadilly. The Count mayhave many houses which he has bought. Of them he willhave deeds of purchase, keys and other things. He willhave paper that he write on. He will have his book ofcheques. There are many belongings that he must have

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somewhere. Why not in this place so central, so quiet,where he come and go by the front or the back at allhours, when in the very vast of the traffic there is noneto notice. We shall go there and search that house. Andwhen we learn what it holds, then we do what our friendArthur call, in his phrases of hunt ‘stop the earths’ and sowe run down our old fox, so? Is it not?”

“Then let us come at once,” I cried, “we are wasting theprecious, precious time!”

The Professor did not move, but simply said, “Andhow 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 willthey say?”

I was staggered, but I knew that if he wished to delayhe 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 wishof me to add to your anguish. But just think, what can wedo, until all the world be at movement. Then will comeour time. I have thought and thought, and it seems to me

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that the simplest way is the best of all. Now we wish toget into the house, but we have no key. Is it not so?” Inodded.

“Now suppose that you were, in truth, the owner ofthat house, and could not still get in. And think there wasto you no conscience of the housebreaker, what wouldyou do?”

“I should get a respectable locksmith, and set him towork to pick the lock for me.”

“And your police, they would interfere, would theynot?”

“Oh no! Not if they knew the man was properly em-ployed.”

“Then,” he looked at me as keenly as he spoke, “all thatis in doubt is the conscience of the employer, and the be-lief of your policemen as to whether or not that employerhas a good conscience or a bad one. Your police mustindeed be zealous men and clever, oh so clever, in read-ing the heart, that they trouble themselves in such mat-ter. No, no, my friend Jonathan, you go take the lock off ahundred empty houses in this your London, or of any cityin the world, and if you do it as such things are rightlydone, and at the time such things are rightly done, no one

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will interfere. I have read of a gentleman who owned aso fine house in London, and when he went for months ofsummer to Switzerland and lock up his house, some bur-glar come and broke window at back and got in. Then hewent and made open the shutters in front and walk outand in through the door, before the very eyes of the po-lice. Then he have an auction in that house, and advertiseit, and put up big notice. And when the day come he selloff by a great auctioneer all the goods of that other manwho own them. Then he go to a builder, and he sell himthat house, making an agreement that he pull it downand take all away within a certain time. And your po-lice and other authority help him all they can. And whenthat owner come back from his holiday in Switzerland hefind only an empty hole where his house had been. Thiswas all done en regle, and in our work we shall be en re-gle too. We shall not go so early that the policemen whohave then little to think of, shall deem it strange. But weshall go after ten o’clock, when there are many about, andsuch things would be done were we indeed owners of thehouse.”

I could not but see how right he was and the terribledespair of Mina’s face became relaxed in thought. Therewas hope in such good counsel.

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Van Helsing went on, “When once within that housewe may find more clues. At any rate some of us canremain there whilst the rest find the other places wherethere 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 andcarriages where they will be most convenient.”

“Look here, old fellow,” said Morris, “it is a capital ideato have all ready in case we want to go horse backing, butdon’t you think that one of your snappy carriages withits heraldic adornments in a byway of Walworth or MileEnd would attract too much attention for our purpose?It seems to me that we ought to take cabs when we gosouth or east. And even leave them somewhere near theneighbourhood we are going to.”

“Friend Quincey is right!” said the Professor. “Hishead is what you call in plane with the horizon. It is adifficult thing that we go to do, and we do not want nopeoples to watch us if so it may.”

Mina took a growing interest in everything and I wasrejoiced to see that the exigency of affairs was helping herto forget for a time the terrible experience of the night.She was very, very pale, almost ghastly, and so thin that

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her lips were drawn away, showing her teeth in some-what of prominence. I did not mention this last, lest itshould give her needless pain, but it made my blood runcold in my veins to think of what had occurred with poorLucy when the Count had sucked her blood. As yet therewas no sign of the teeth growing sharper, but the time asyet was short, and there was time for fear.

When we came to the discussion of the sequence of ourefforts and of the disposition of our forces, there werenew sources of doubt. It was finally agreed that beforestarting for Piccadilly we should destroy the Count’s lairclose at hand. In case he should find it out too soon, weshould thus be still ahead of him in our work of destruc-tion. And his presence in his purely material shape, andat his weakest, might give us some new clue.

As to the disposal of forces, it was suggested by theProfessor that, after our visit to Carfax, we should allenter the house in Piccadilly. That the two doctorsand I should remain there, whilst Lord Godalming andQuincey found the lairs at Walworth and Mile End anddestroyed them. It was possible, if not likely, the Pro-fessor urged, that the Count might appear in Piccadillyduring the day, and that if so we might be able to copewith him then and there. At any rate, we might be able to

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follow him in force. To this plan I strenuously objected,and so far as my going was concerned, for I said that I in-tended to stay and protect Mina. I thought that my mindwas made up on the subject, but Mina would not listen tomy objection. She said that there might be some law mat-ter in which I could be useful. That amongst the Count’spapers might be some clue which I could understand outof my experience in Transylvania. And that, as it was,all the strength we could muster was required to copewith the Count’s extraordinary power. I had to give in,for Mina’s resolution was fixed. She said that it was thelast hope for her that we should all work together.

“As for me,” she said, “I have no fear. Things havebeen as bad as they can be. And whatever may happenmust have in it some element of hope or comfort. Go,my husband! God can, if He wishes it, guard me as wellalone as with any one present.”

So I started up crying out, “Then in God’s name let uscome at once, for we are losing time. The Count maycome to Piccadilly earlier than we think.”

“Not so!” said Van Helsing, holding up his hand.

“But why?” I asked.

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“Do you forget,” he said, with actually a smile, “thatlast night he banqueted heavily, and will sleep late?”

Did I forget! Shall I ever... can I ever! Can any of usever forget that terrible scene! Mina struggled hard tokeep her brave countenance, but the pain overmasteredher and she put her hands before her face, and shudderedwhilst she moaned. Van Helsing had not intended to re-call her frightful experience. He had simply lost sight ofher and her part in the affair in his intellectual effort.

When it struck him what he said, he was horrified athis thoughtlessness and tried to comfort her.

“Oh, Madam Mina,” he said, “dear, dear, MadamMina, alas! That I of all who so reverence you shouldhave said anything so forgetful. These stupid old lips ofmine and this stupid old head do not deserve so, but youwill forget it, will you not?” He bent low beside her as hespoke.

She took his hand, and looking at him through hertears, said hoarsely, “No, I shall not forget, for it is wellthat I remember. And with it I have so much in memoryof you that is sweet, that I take it all together. Now, youmust all be going soon. Breakfast is ready, and we mustall eat that we may be strong.”

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Breakfast was a strange meal to us all. We tried tobe cheerful and encourage each other, and Mina was thebrightest and most cheerful of us. When it was over, VanHelsing stood up and said, “Now, my dear friends, we goforth to our terrible enterprise. Are we all armed, as wewere 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 anycase quite safe here until the sunset. And before then weshall return... if... We shall return! But before we go letme see you armed against personal attack. I have my-self, since you came down, prepared your chamber bythe placing of things of which we know, so that He maynot enter. Now let me guard yourself. On your forehead Itouch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father,the Son, and...”

There was a fearful scream which almost froze ourhearts to hear. As he had placed the Wafer on Mina’sforehead, it had seared it... had burned into the flesh asthough it had been a piece of white-hot metal. My poordarling’s brain had told her the significance of the fact asquickly as her nerves received the pain of it, and the two

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so overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature had itsvoice in that dreadful scream.

But the words to her thought came quickly. The echoof the scream had not ceased to ring on the air when therecame the reaction, and she sank on her knees on the floorin an agony of abasement. Pulling her beautiful hair overher face, as the leper of old his mantle, she wailed out.

“Unclean! Unclean! Even the Almighty shuns my pol-luted flesh! I must bear this mark of shame upon my fore-head until the Judgement Day.”

They all paused. I had thrown myself beside her inan agony of helpless grief, and putting my arms aroundheld her tight. For a few minutes our sorrowful heartsbeat together, whilst the friends around us turned awaytheir eyes that ran tears silently. Then Van Helsing turnedand said gravely. So gravely that I could not help feelingthat he was in some way inspired, and was stating thingsoutside himself.

“It may be that you may have to bear that mark till Godhimself see fit, as He most surely shall, on the JudgementDay, to redress all wrongs of the earth and of His chil-dren that He has placed thereon. And oh, Madam Mina,my dear, my dear, may we who love you be there to see,

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when that red scar, the sign of God’s knowledge of whathas been, shall pass away, and leave your forehead aspure as the heart we know. For so surely as we live, thatscar shall pass away when God sees right to lift the bur-den that is hard upon us. Till then we bear our Cross, asHis Son did in obedience to His Will. It may be that weare chosen instruments of His good pleasure, and that weascend to His bidding as that other through stripes andshame. Through tears and blood. Through doubts andfear, and all that makes the difference between God andman.”

There was hope in his words, and comfort. And theymade for resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simul-taneously we each took one of the old man’s hands andbent over and kissed it. Then without a word we all kneltdown together, and all holding hands, swore to be true toeach other. We men pledged ourselves to raise the veil ofsorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way,we loved. And we prayed for help and guidance in theterrible task which lay before us. It was then time to start.So I said farewell to Mina, a parting which neither of usshall forget to our dying day, and we set out.

To one thing I have made up my mind. If we find outthat Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not

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go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose itis thus that in old times one vampire meant many. Just astheir hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so theholiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastlyranks.

We entered Carfax without trouble and found all thingsthe same as on the first occasion. It was hard to believethat amongst so prosaic surroundings of neglect and dustand decay there was any ground for such fear as alreadywe knew. Had not our minds been made up, and hadthere not been terrible memories to spur us on, we couldhardly have proceeded with our task. We found no pa-pers, or any sign of use in the house. And in the oldchapel the great boxes looked just as we had seen themlast.

Dr. Van Helsing said to us solemnly as we stood beforehim, “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 felluse. He has chosen this earth because it has been holy.Thus we defeat him with his own weapon, for we make itmore holy still. It was sanctified to such use of man, nowwe sanctify it to God.”

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As he spoke he took from his bag a screwdriver and awrench, and very soon the top of one of the cases wasthrown open. The earth smelled musty and close, butwe did not somehow seem to mind, for our attentionwas concentrated on the Professor. Taking from his boxa piece of the Sacred Wafer he laid it reverently on theearth, and then shutting down the lid began to screw ithome, we aiding him as he worked.

One by one we treated in the same way each of thegreat boxes, and left them as we had found them to all ap-pearance. But in each was a portion of the Host. When weclosed the door behind us, the Professor said solemnly,“So much is already done. It may be that with all theothers we can be so successful, then the sunset of thisevening may shine of Madam Mina’s forehead all whiteas ivory and with no stain!”

As we passed across the lawn on our way to the stationto catch our train we could see the front of the asylum. Ilooked eagerly, and in the window of my own room sawMina. I waved my hand to her, and nodded to tell thatour work there was successfully accomplished. She nod-ded in reply to show that she understood. The last I saw,she was waving her hand in farewell. It was with a heavyheart that we sought the station and just caught the train,

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which was steaming in as we reached the platform. I havewritten this in the train.

Piccadilly, 12:30 o’clock.–Just before we reachedFenchurch Street Lord Godalming said to me, “Quinceyand I will find a locksmith. You had better not come withus in case there should be any difficulty. For under the cir-cumstances it wouldn’t seem so bad for us to break intoan empty house. But you are a solicitor and the Incor-porated Law Society might tell you that you should haveknown better.”

I demurred as to my not sharing any danger even ofodium, but he went on, “Besides, it will attract less atten-tion if there are not too many of us. My title will makeit all right with the locksmith, and with any policemanthat may come along. You had better go with Jack andthe Professor and stay in the Green Park. Somewhere insight of the house, and when you see the door openedand the smith has gone away, do you all come across. Weshall be on the lookout for you, and shall let you in.”

“The advice is good!” said Van Helsing, so we said nomore. Godalming and Morris hurried off in a cab, wefollowing in another. At the corner of Arlington Streetour contingent got out and strolled into the Green Park.

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My heart beat as I saw the house on which so much ofour hope was centred, looming up grim and silent in itsdeserted condition amongst its more lively and spruce-looking neighbours. We sat down on a bench within goodview, and began to smoke cigars so as to attract as littleattention as possible. The minutes seemed to pass withleaden feet as we waited for the coming of the others.

At length we saw a four-wheeler drive up. Out of it, inleisurely fashion, got Lord Godalming and Morris. Anddown from the box descended a thick-set working manwith his rush-woven basket of tools. Morris paid the cab-man, who touched his hat and drove away. Together thetwo ascended the steps, and Lord Godalming pointed outwhat he wanted done. The workman took off his coatleisurely and hung it on one of the spikes of the rail, say-ing something to a policeman who just then saunteredalong. The policeman nodded acquiescence, and the mankneeling down placed his bag beside him. After search-ing through it, he took out a selection of tools which heproceeded to lay beside him in orderly fashion. Then hestood up, looked in the keyhole, blew into it, and turningto his employers, made some remark. Lord Godalmingsmiled, and the man lifted a good sized bunch of keys. Se-lecting one of them, he began to probe the lock, as if feel-

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ing his way with it. After fumbling about for a bit he trieda second, and then a third. All at once the door openedunder a slight push from him, and he and the two othersentered the hall. We sat still. My own cigar burnt furi-ously, but Van Helsing’s went cold altogether. We waitedpatiently as we saw the workman come out and bring hisbag. Then he held the door partly open, steadying it withhis knees, whilst he fitted a key to the lock. This he finallyhanded to Lord Godalming, who took out his purse andgave him something. The man touched his hat, took hisbag, put on his coat and departed. Not a soul took theslightest notice of the whole transaction.

When the man had fairly gone, we three crossed thestreet and knocked at the door. It was immediatelyopened by Quincey Morris, beside whom stood Lord Go-dalming lighting a cigar.

“The place smells so vilely,” said the latter as we camein. It did indeed smell vilely. Like the old chapel at Car-fax. And with our previous experience it was plain to usthat the Count had been using the place pretty freely. Wemoved to explore the house, all keeping together in caseof attack, for we knew we had a strong and wily enemy todeal with, and as yet we did not know whether the Countmight not be in the house.

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In the dining room, which lay at the back of the hall,we found eight boxes of earth. Eight boxes only out ofthe nine which we sought! Our work was not over, andwould never be until we should have found the missingbox.

First we opened the shutters of the window whichlooked out across a narrow stone flagged yard at theblank face of a stable, pointed to look like the front of aminiature house. There were no windows in it, so wewere not afraid of being overlooked. We did not lose anytime in examining the chests. With the tools which wehad brought with us we opened them, one by one, andtreated them as we had treated those others in the oldchapel. It was evident to us that the Count was not atpresent in the house, and we proceeded to search for anyof his effects.

After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, frombasement to attic, we came to the conclusion that the din-ing room contained any effects which might belong to theCount. And so we proceeded to minutely examine them.They lay in a sort of orderly disorder on the great diningroom table.

There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great

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bundle, deeds of the purchase of the houses at Mile Endand Bermondsey, notepaper, envelopes, and pens andink. All were covered up in thin wrapping paper to keepthem from the dust. There were also a clothes brush, abrush and comb, and a jug and basin. The latter contain-ing dirty water which was reddened as if with blood. Lastof all was a little heap of keys of all sorts and sizes, prob-ably those belonging to the other houses.

When we had examined this last find, Lord Godalmingand Quincey Morris taking accurate notes of the variousaddresses of the houses in the East and the South, tookwith them the keys in a great bunch, and set out to de-stroy the boxes in these places. The rest of us are, withwhat patience we can, waiting their return, or the comingof the Count.

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

3 October.–The time seemed terribly long whilst wewere waiting for the coming of Godalming and QuinceyMorris. The Professor tried to keep our minds active byusing them all the time. I could see his beneficent pur-pose, by the side glances which he threw from time totime at Harker. The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a mis-ery that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank,happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of en-ergy, and with dark brown hair. Today he is a drawn, hag-gard old man, whose white hair matches well with the

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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 tidehim over the despairing period. He will then, in a kindof way, wake again to the realities of life. Poor fellow, Ithought my own trouble was bad enough, but his... !

The Professor knows this well enough, and is doing hisbest to keep his mind active. What he has been sayingwas, under the circumstances, of absorbing interest. Sowell as I can remember, here it is:

“I have studied, over and over again since they cameinto my hands, all the papers relating to this monster, andthe more I have studied, the greater seems the necessityto utterly stamp him out. All through there are signs ofhis advance. Not only of his power, but of his knowl-edge of it. As I learned from the researches of my friendArminius of Buda-Pesth, he was in life a most wonderfulman. Soldier, statesman, and alchemist–which latter wasthe highest development of the science knowledge of histime. He had a mighty brain, a learning beyond compare,and a heart that knew no fear and no remorse. He daredeven to attend the Scholomance, and there was no branchof knowledge of his time that he did not essay.

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“Well, in him the brain powers survived the physicaldeath. Though it would seem that memory was not allcomplete. In some faculties of mind he has been, and is,only a child. But he is growing, and some things thatwere childish at the first are now of man’s stature. He isexperimenting, and doing it well. And if it had not beenthat we have crossed his path he would be yet, he maybe yet if we fail, the father or furtherer of a new order ofbeings, whose road must lead through Death, not Life.”

Harker groaned and said, “And this is all arrayedagainst my darling! But how is he experimenting? Theknowledge may help us to defeat him!”

“He has all along, since his coming, been trying hispower, slowly but surely. That big child-brain of his isworking. Well for us, it is as yet a child-brain. For had hedared, at the first, to attempt certain things he would longago have been beyond our power. However, he means tosucceed, and a man who has centuries before him can af-ford to wait and to go slow. Festina lente may well be hismotto.”

“I fail to understand,” said Harker wearily. “Oh, do bemore plain to me! Perhaps grief and trouble are dullingmy brain.”

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The Professor laid his hand tenderly on his shoulder ashe spoke, “Ah, my child, I will be plain. Do you not seehow, of late, this monster has been creeping into knowl-edge experimentally. How he has been making use of thezoophagous patient to effect his entry into friend John’shome. For your Vampire, though in all afterwards he cancome when and how he will, must at the first make entryonly when asked thereto by an inmate. But these are nothis most important experiments. Do we not see how atthe first all these so great boxes were moved by others.He knew not then but that must be so. But all the timethat so great child-brain of his was growing, and he be-gan to consider whether he might not himself move thebox. So he began to help. And then, when he found thatthis be all right, he try to move them all alone. And so heprogress, and he scatter these graves of him. And nonebut 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 ashe can change his form, they do him equal well, and nonemay know these are his hiding place! But, my child, donot despair, this knowledge came to him just too late! Al-ready all of his lairs but one be sterilize as for him. Andbefore the sunset this shall be so. Then he have no place

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where he can move and hide. I delayed this morning thatso we might be sure. Is there not more at stake for us thanfor him? Then why not be more careful than him? Bymy clock it is one hour and already, if all be well, friendArthur and Quincey are on their way to us. Today is ourday, 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 knockat the hall door, the double postman’s knock of the tele-graph boy. We all moved out to the hall with one impulse,and Van Helsing, holding up his hand to us to keep si-lence, stepped to the door and opened it. The boy handedin a dispatch. The Professor closed the door again, and af-ter looking at the direction, opened it and read aloud.

“Look out for D. He has just now, 12:45, come from Car-fax hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seemsto 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 willact in His own way and time. Do not fear, and do notrejoice as yet. For what we wish for at the moment maybe our own undoings.”

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“I care for nothing now,” he answered hotly, “except towipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sellmy soul to do it!”

“Oh, hush, hush, my child!” said Van Helsing. “Goddoes not purchase souls in this wise, and the Devil,though he may purchase, does not keep faith. But God ismerciful and just, and knows your pain and your devo-tion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her painwould be doubled, did she but hear your wild words. Donot fear any of us, we are all devoted to this cause, andtoday shall see the end. The time is coming for action.Today this Vampire is limit to the powers of man, and tillsunset he may not change. It will take him time to ar-rive here, see it is twenty minutes past one, and there areyet some times before he can hither come, be he never soquick. What we must hope for is that my Lord Arthurand Quincey arrive first.”

About half an hour after we had received Mrs.Harker’s telegram, there came a quiet, resolute knock atthe hall door. It was just an ordinary knock, such as isgiven hourly by thousands of gentlemen, but it made theProfessor’s heart and mine beat loudly. We looked at eachother, and together moved out into the hall. We each heldready to use our various armaments, the spiritual in the

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left hand, the mortal in the right. Van Helsing pulled backthe latch, and holding the door half open, stood back,having both hands ready for action. The gladness of ourhearts must have shown upon our faces when on the step,close to the door, we saw Lord Godalming and QuinceyMorris. They came quickly in and closed the door behindthem, the former saying, as they moved along the hall:

“It is all right. We found both places. Six boxes in eachand 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 startoff. For it won’t do to leave Mrs. Harker alone after sun-set.”

“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. Thatmeans he went to cross the river, and he could only doso at slack of tide, which should be something before oneo’clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He isas yet only suspicious, and he went from Carfax first tothe place where he would suspect interference least. You

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must have been at Bermondsey only a short time beforehim. That he is not here already shows that he went toMile End next. This took him some time, for he wouldthen have to be carried over the river in some way. Be-lieve me, my friends, we shall not have long to wait now.We should have ready some plan of attack, so that wemay throw away no chance. Hush, there is no time now.Have all your arms! Be ready!” He held up a warninghand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key softly in-serted in the lock of the hall door.

I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the wayin which a dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunt-ing parties and adventures in different parts of the world,Quincey Morris had always been the one to arrange theplan of action, and Arthur and I had been accustomed toobey him implicitly. Now, the old habit seemed to be re-newed instinctively. With a swift glance around the room,he at once laid out our plan of attack, and without speak-ing 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 itwhilst we two stepped between the incomer and the door.Godalming behind and Quincey in front stood just out ofsight ready to move in front of the window. We waited

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in a suspense that made the seconds pass with nightmareslowness. The slow, careful steps came along the hall. TheCount was evidently prepared for some surprise, at leasthe feared it.

Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room.Winning a way past us before any of us could raise ahand to stay him. There was something so pantherlikein the movement, something so unhuman, that it seemedto sober us all from the shock of his coming. The firstto act was Harker, who with a quick movement, threwhimself before the door leading into the room in the frontof the house. As the Count saw us, a horrible sort ofsnarl passed over his face, showing the eyeteeth long andpointed. But the evil smile as quickly passed into a coldstare of lion-like disdain. His expression again changedas, with a single impulse, we all advanced upon him. Itwas a pity that we had not some better organized plan ofattack, for even at the moment I wondered what we wereto do. I did not myself know whether our lethal weaponswould avail us anything.

Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he hadready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sud-den cut at him. The blow was a powerful one; only thediabolical quickness of the Count’s leap back saved him.

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A second less and the trenchant blade had shorn throughhis heart. As it was, the point just cut the cloth of his coat,making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank notes anda stream of gold fell out. The expression of the Count’sface was so hellish, that for a moment I feared for Harker,though I saw him throw the terrible knife aloft again foranother stroke. Instinctively I moved forward with a pro-tective impulse, holding the Crucifix and Wafer in my lefthand. I felt a mighty power fly along my arm, and itwas without surprise that I saw the monster cower backbefore a similar movement made spontaneously by eachone of us. It would be impossible to describe the expres-sion of hate and baffled malignity, of anger and hellishrage, which came over the Count’s face. His waxen huebecame greenish-yellow by the contrast of his burningeyes, and the red scar on the forehead showed on the pal-lid skin like a palpitating wound. The next instant, with asinuous dive he swept under Harker’s arm, ere his blowcould fall, and grasping a handful of the money from thefloor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the win-dow. Amid the crash and glitter of the falling glass, hetumbled into the flagged area below. Through the soundof the shivering glass I could hear the “ting” of the gold,as some of the sovereigns fell on the flagging.

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We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from theground. He, rushing up the steps, crossed the flaggedyard, and pushed open the stable door. There he turnedand spoke to us.

“You think to baffle me, you with your pale faces all ina row, like sheep in a butcher’s. You shall be sorry yet,each one of you! You think you have left me without aplace to rest, but I have more. My revenge is just begun! Ispread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girlsthat you all love are mine already. And through themyou and others shall yet be mine, my creatures, to do mybidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!”

With a contemptuous sneer, he passed quickly throughthe door, and we heard the rusty bolt creak as he fastenedit behind him. A door beyond opened and shut. The firstof us to speak was the Professor. Realizing the difficultyof following him through the stable, we moved towardthe hall.

“We have learnt something... much! Notwithstandinghis 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 followquick. You are hunters of the wild beast, and understand

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it so. For me, I make sure that nothing here may be of useto 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 fol-low the Count. He had, however, bolted the stable door,and by the time they had forced it open there was no signof him. Van Helsing and I tried to make inquiry at theback of the house. But the mews was deserted and noone had seen him depart.

It was now late in the afternoon, and sunset was notfar off. We had to recognize that our game was up. Withheavy hearts we agreed with the Professor when he said,“Let us go back to Madam Mina. Poor, poor dear MadamMina. All we can do just now is done, and we can there,at least, protect her. But we need not despair. There is butone more earth box, and we must try to find it. When thatis done all may yet be well.”

I could see that he spoke as bravely as he could to com-fort Harker. The poor fellow was quite broken down,

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now and again he gave a low groan which he could notsuppress. He was thinking of his wife.

With sad hearts we came back to my house, where wefound Mrs. Harker waiting us, with an appearance ofcheerfulness which did honour to her bravery and un-selfishness. When she saw our faces, her own became aspale as death. For a second or two her eyes were closedas if she were in secret prayer.

And then she said cheerfully, “I can never thank youall enough. Oh, my poor darling!”

As she spoke, she took her husband’s grey head in herhands and kissed it.

“Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet bewell, dear! God will protect us if He so will it in His goodintent.” The poor fellow groaned. There was no place forwords in his sublime misery.

We had a sort of perfunctory supper together, and Ithink it cheered us all up somewhat. It was, perhaps, themere animal heat of food to hungry people, for none of ushad eaten anything since breakfast, or the sense of com-panionship may have helped us, but anyhow we wereall less miserable, and saw the morrow as not altogetherwithout hope.

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True to our promise, we told Mrs. Harker every-thing which had passed. And although she grew snowywhite at times when danger had seemed to threaten herhusband, and red at others when his devotion to herwas manifested, she listened bravely and with calmness.When we came to the part where Harker had rushed atthe Count so recklessly, she clung to her husband’s arm,and held it tight as though her clinging could protect himfrom any harm that might come. She said nothing, how-ever, till the narration was all done, and matters had beenbrought up to the present time.

Then without letting go her husband’s hand she stoodup amongst us and spoke. Oh, that I could give any ideaof the scene. Of that sweet, sweet, good, good woman inall the radiant beauty of her youth and animation, withthe red scar on her forehead, of which she was conscious,and which we saw with grinding of our teeth, remember-ing whence and how it came. Her loving kindness againstour grim hate. Her tender faith against all our fears anddoubting. And we, knowing that so far as symbols went,she with all her goodness and purity and faith, was out-cast from God.

“Jonathan,” she said, and the word sounded like musicon her lips it was so full of love and tenderness, “Jonathan

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dear, and you all my true, true friends, I want you to bearsomething in mind through all this dreadful time. I knowthat you must fight. That you must destroy even as youdestroyed the false Lucy so that the true Lucy might livehereafter. But it is not a work of hate. That poor soulwho has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all.Just think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyedin his worser part that his better part may have spiritualimmortality. You must be pitiful to him, too, though itmay not hold your hands from his destruction.”

As she spoke I could see her husband’s face darkenand draw together, as though the passion in him wereshriveling his being to its core. Instinctively the claspon his wife’s hand grew closer, till his knuckles lookedwhite. She did not flinch from the pain which I knew shemust have suffered, but looked at him with eyes that weremore appealing than ever.

As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almosttearing his hand from hers as he spoke.

“May God give him into my hand just for long enoughto destroy that earthly life of him which we are aimingat. If beyond it I could send his soul forever and ever toburning hell I would do it!”

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“Oh, hush! Oh, hush in the name of the good God.Don’t say such things, Jonathan, my husband, or you willcrush me with fear and horror. Just think, my dear... Ihave been thinking all this long, long day of it... that...perhaps... some day... I, too, may need such pity, andthat some other like you, and with equal cause for anger,may deny it to me! Oh, my husband! My husband, in-deed I would have spared you such a thought had therebeen another way. But I pray that God may not have trea-sured your wild words, except as the heart-broken wailof a very loving and sorely stricken man. Oh, God, letthese poor white hairs go in evidence of what he has suf-fered, who all his life has done no wrong, and on whomso many sorrows have come.”

We men were all in tears now. There was no resistingthem, and we wept openly. She wept, too, to see that hersweeter counsels had prevailed. Her husband flung him-self on his knees beside her, and putting his arms roundher, hid his face in the folds of her dress. Van Helsingbeckoned to us and we stole out of the room, leaving thetwo loving hearts alone with their God.

Before they retired the Professor fixed up the roomagainst any coming of the Vampire, and assured Mrs.Harker that she might rest in peace. She tried to school

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herself to the belief, and manifestly for her husband’ssake, 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 ofthem was to sound in case of any emergency. When theyhad retired, Quincey, Godalming, and I arranged that weshould sit up, dividing the night between us, and watchover the safety of the poor stricken lady. The first watchfalls to Quincey, so the rest of us shall be off to bed as soonas we can.

Godalming has already turned in, for his is the secondwatch. Now that my work is done I, too, shall go to bed.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

3-4 October, close to midnight.–I thought yesterdaywould never end. There was over me a yearning forsleep, in some sort of blind belief that to wake would beto find things changed, and that any change must now befor the better. Before we parted, we discussed what ournext step was to be, but we could arrive at no result. Allwe knew was that one earth box remained, and that theCount alone knew where it was. If he chooses to lie hid-den, he may baffle us for years. And in the meantime,

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the thought is too horrible, I dare not think of it evennow. This I know, that if ever there was a woman whowas all perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling.I loved her a thousand times more for her sweet pity oflast night, a pity that made my own hate of the monsterseem despicable. Surely God will not permit the world tobe the poorer by the loss of such a creature. This is hopeto me. We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is ouronly anchor. Thank God! Mina is sleeping, and sleep-ing without dreams. I fear what her dreams might belike, with such terrible memories to ground them in. Shehas not been so calm, within my seeing, since the sunset.Then, for a while, there came over her face a repose whichwas like spring after the blasts of March. I thought at thetime that it was the softness of the red sunset on her face,but somehow now I think it has a deeper meaning. I amnot sleepy myself, though I am weary... weary to death.However, I must try to sleep. For there is tomorrow tothink of, and there is no rest for me until...

Later–I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened byMina, who was sitting up in bed, with a startled look onher face. I could see easily, for we did not leave the roomin darkness. She had placed a warning hand over mymouth, and now she whispered in my ear, “Hush! There

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is someone in the corridor!” I got up softly, and crossingthe room, gently opened the door.

Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris,wide awake. He raised a warning hand for silence as hewhispered to me, “Hush! Go back to bed. It is all right.One of us will be here all night. We don’t mean to takeany chances!”

His look and gesture forbade discussion, so I cameback and told Mina. She sighed and positively a shadowof a smile stole over her poor, pale face as she put herarms round me and said softly, “Oh, thank God for goodbrave men!” With a sigh she sank back again to sleep. Iwrite this now as I am not sleepy, though I must try again.

4 October, morning.–Once again during the night I waswakened by Mina. This time we had all had a good sleep,for the grey of the coming dawn was making the win-dows into sharp oblongs, and the gas flame was like aspeck rather than a disc of light.

She said to me hurriedly, “Go, call the Professor. I wantto 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

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hypnotize me before the dawn, and then I shall be ableto speak. Go quick, dearest, the time is getting close.”

I went to the door. Dr. Seward was resting on the mat-tress, 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 Hels-

ing 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 Godalm-ing were with Dr. Seward at the door asking questions.When the Professor saw Mina a smile, a positive smileousted the anxiety of his face.

He rubbed his hands as he said, “Oh, my dear MadamMina, this is indeed a change. See! Friend Jonathan, wehave got our dear Madam Mina, as of old, back to us to-day!” Then turning to her, he said cheerfully, “And whatam I to do for you? For at this hour you do not want mefor nothing.”

“I want you to hypnotize me!” she said. “Do it be-fore the dawn, for I feel that then I can speak, and speak

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freely. Be quick, for the time is short!” Without a word hemotioned her to sit up in bed.

Looking fixedly at her, he commenced to make passesin front of her, from over the top of her head downward,with each hand in turn. Mina gazed at him fixedly for afew minutes, during which my own heart beat like a triphammer, for I felt that some crisis was at hand. Graduallyher eyes closed, and she sat, stock still. Only by the gentleheaving 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 greatbeads of perspiration. Mina opened her eyes, but she didnot seem the same woman. There was a far-away lookin her eyes, and her voice had a sad dreaminess whichwas new to me. Raising his hand to impose silence, theProfessor motioned to me to bring the others in. Theycame on tiptoe, closing the door behind them, and stoodat the foot of the bed, looking on. Mina appeared not tosee them. The stillness was broken by Van Helsing’s voicespeaking in a low level tone which would not break thecurrent 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.”

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For several minutes there was silence. Mina sat rigid, andthe Professor stood staring at her fixedly.

The rest of us hardly dared to breathe. The room wasgrowing lighter. Without taking his eyes from Mina’sface, Dr. Van Helsing motioned me to pull up the blind.I did so, and the day seemed just upon us. A red streakshot up, and a rosy light seemed to diffuse itself throughthe room. On the instant the Professor spoke again.

“Where are you now?”

The answer came dreamily, but with intention. It wereas though she were interpreting something. I have heardher 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 theProfessor’s patient voice.

“The lapping of water. It is gurgling by, and littlewaves leap. I can hear them on the outside.”

“Then you are on a ship?”’

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We all looked at each other, trying to glean somethingeach 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 runabout. There is the creaking of a chain, and the loud tinkleas 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 fadedaway into a deep breath as of one sleeping, and the openeyes closed again.

By this time the sun had risen, and we were all in thefull light of day. Dr. Van Helsing placed his hands onMina’s shoulders, and laid her head down softly on herpillow. She lay like a sleeping child for a few moments,and then, with a long sigh, awoke and stared in wonderto see us all around her.

“Have I been talking in my sleep?” was all she said.She seemed, however, to know the situation withouttelling, though she was eager to know what she had told.The Professor repeated the conversation, and she said,

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“Then there is not a moment to lose. It may not be yettoo late!”

Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming started for the doorbut the Professor’s calm voice called them back.

“Stay, my friends. That ship, wherever it was, wasweighing anchor at the moment in your so great Portof London. Which of them is it that you seek? God bethanked that we have once again a clue, though whitherit may lead us we know not. We have been blind some-what. Blind after the manner of men, since we can lookback we see what we might have seen looking forward ifwe had been able to see what we might have seen! Alas,but that sentence is a puddle, is it not? We can know nowwhat was in the Count’s mind, when he seize that money,though Jonathan’s so fierce knife put him in the dangerthat even he dread. He meant escape. Hear me, ESCAPE!He saw that with but one earth box left, and a pack of menfollowing like dogs after a fox, this London was no placefor him. He have take his last earth box on board a ship,and he leave the land. He think to escape, but no! Wefollow him. Tally Ho! As friend Arthur would say whenhe 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 thinkhis mind in a little while. In meantime we may rest and

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in peace, for there are between us which he do not wantto pass, and which he could not if he would. Unless theship were to touch the land, and then only at full or slacktide. See, and the sun is just rose, and all day to sunset isus. Let us take bath, and dress, and have breakfast whichwe all need, and which we can eat comfortably since hebe not in the same land with us.”

Mina looked at him appealingly as she asked, “Butwhy need we seek him further, when he is gone awayfrom us?”

He took her hand and patted it as he replied, “Ask menothing as yet. When we have breakfast, then I answerall questions.” He would say no more, and we separatedto dress.

After breakfast Mina repeated her question. He lookedat her gravely for a minute and then said sorrowfully,“Because my dear, dear Madam Mina, now more thanever must we find him even if we have to follow him tothe jaws of Hell!”

She grew paler as she asked faintly, “Why?”“Because,” he answered solemnly, “he can live for cen-

turies, and you are but mortal woman. Time is now to bedreaded, since once he put that mark upon your throat.”

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I was just in time to catch her as she fell forward in afaint.

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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 searchbut knowing, and we seek confirmation only. But do youstay and take care of her today. This is your best and mostholiest office. This day nothing can find him here.

Let me tell you that so you will know what we fourknow already, for I have tell them. He, our enemy, have

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gone away. He have gone back to his Castle in Transylva-nia. I know it so well, as if a great hand of fire wrote it onthe wall. He have prepare for this in some way, and thatlast earth box was ready to ship somewheres. For thishe took the money. For this he hurry at the last, lest wecatch him before the sun go down. It was his last hope,save that he might hide in the tomb that he think poorMiss Lucy, being as he thought like him, keep open tohim. But there was not of time. When that fail he makestraight for his last resource, his last earth-work I mightsay did I wish double entente. He is clever, oh so clever!He know that his game here was finish. And so he de-cide he go back home. He find ship going by the route hecame, 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 youall. Then we will comfort you and poor Madam Minawith new hope. For it will be hope when you think it over,that all is not lost. This very creature that we pursue, hetake hundreds of years to get so far as London. And yet inone day, when we know of the disposal of him we drivehim out. He is finite, though he is powerful to do muchharm and suffers not as we do. But we are strong, eachin our purpose, and we are all more strong together. Take

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heart afresh, dear husband of Madam Mina. This battleis but begun and in the end we shall win. So sure as thatGod sits on high to watch over His children. Therefore beof much comfort till we return.

VAN HELSING.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

4 October.–When I read to Mina, Van Helsing’s mes-sage in the phonograph, the poor girl brightened up con-siderably. Already the certainty that the Count is outof the country has given her comfort. And comfort isstrength to her. For my own part, now that his horribledanger is not face to face with us, it seems almost impos-sible to believe in it. Even my own terrible experiences inCastle Dracula seem like a long forgotten dream. Here inthe crisp autumn air in the bright sunlight.

Alas! How can I disbelieve! In the midst of my thoughtmy eye fell on the red scar on my poor darling’s whiteforehead. Whilst that lasts, there can be no disbelief.Mina and I fear to be idle, so we have been over all thediaries again and again. Somehow, although the real-ity seem greater each time, the pain and the fear seem

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less. There is something of a guiding purpose manifestthroughout, which is comforting. Mina says that perhapswe are the instruments of ultimate good. It may be! Ishall try to think as she does. We have never spoken toeach other yet of the future. It is better to wait till we seethe Professor and the others after their investigations.

The day is running by more quickly than I ever thoughta 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 Go-dalming, Dr. Seward, Mr. Quincey Morris,Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker.

Dr. Van Helsing described what steps weretaken during the day to discover on whatboat and whither bound Count Dracula madehis escape.

“As I knew that he wanted to get back toTransylvania, I felt sure that he must go bythe Danube mouth, or by somewhere in the

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Black Sea, since by that way he come. It was adreary blank that was before us. Omne igno-tum pro magnifico; and so with heavy heartswe start to find what ships leave for the BlackSea last night. He was in sailing ship, sinceMadam Mina tell of sails being set. Thesenot so important as to go in your list of theshipping in the Times, and so we go, by sug-gestion of Lord Godalming, to your Lloyd’s,where are note of all ships that sail, howeverso small. There we find that only one BlackSea bound ship go out with the tide. Sheis the Czarina Catherine, and she sail fromDoolittle’s Wharf for Varna, and thence toother ports and up the Danube. ‘So!’ saidI, ‘this is the ship whereon is the Count.’ Sooff we go to Doolittle’s Wharf, and there wefind a man in an office. From him we in-quire of the goings of the Czarina Catherine.He swear much, and he red face and loud ofvoice, but he good fellow all the same. Andwhen Quincey give him something from hispocket which crackle as he roll it up, and putit in a so small bag which he have hid deep in

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his clothing, he still better fellow and hum-ble servant to us. He come with us, and askmany men who are rough and hot. These bebetter fellows too when they have been nomore thirsty. They say much of blood andbloom, and of others which I comprehendnot, though I guess what they mean. But nev-ertheless they tell us all things which we wantto know.

“They make known to us among them, howlast afternoon at about five o’clock comes aman so hurry. A tall man, thin and pale, withhigh nose and teeth so white, and eyes thatseem to be burning. That he be all in black,except that he have a hat of straw whichsuit not him or the time. That he scatter hismoney in making quick inquiry as to whatship sails for the Black Sea and for where.Some took him to the office and then to theship, where he will not go aboard but halt atshore end of gangplank, and ask that the cap-tain come to him. The captain come, whentold that he will be pay well, and though heswear much at the first he agree to term. Then

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the thin man go and some one tell him wherehorse and cart can be hired. He go there andsoon he come again, himself driving cart onwhich a great box. This he himself lift down,though it take several to put it on truck forthe ship. He give much talk to captain as tohow and where his box is to be place. But thecaptain like it not and swear at him in manytongues, and tell him that if he like he cancome and see where it shall be. But he say‘no,’ that he come not yet, for that he havemuch to do. Whereupon the captain tell himthat he had better be quick, with blood, forthat his ship will leave the place, of blood, be-fore the turn of the tide, with blood. Then thethin man smile and say that of course he mustgo when he think fit, but he will be surprise ifhe 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 in-trude on his kindness as to come aboard be-fore the sailing. Final the captain, more redthan ever, and in more tongues, tell him thathe doesn’t want no Frenchmen, with bloom

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upon them and also with blood, in his ship,with blood on her also. And so, after askingwhere he might purchase ship forms, he de-parted.

“No one knew where he went ‘or bloomin’well cared’ as they said, for they had some-thing else to think of, well with blood again.For it soon became apparent to all that theCzarina Catherine would not sail as was ex-pected. A thin mist began to creep up fromthe river, and it grew, and grew. Till soon adense fog enveloped the ship and all aroundher. The captain swore polyglot, very poly-glot, polyglot with bloom and blood, but hecould do nothing. The water rose and rose,and he began to fear that he would lose thetide altogether. He was in no friendly mood,when just at full tide, the thin man came upthe gangplank again and asked to see wherehis box had been stowed. Then the captainreplied that he wished that he and his box,old and with much bloom and blood, werein hell. But the thin man did not be offend,and went down with the mate and saw where

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it was place, and came up and stood awhileon deck in fog. He must have come off byhimself, for none notice him. Indeed theythought not of him, for soon the fog beginto melt away, and all was clear again. Myfriends of the thirst and the language thatwas of bloom and blood laughed, as they toldhow the captain’s swears exceeded even hisusual polyglot, and was more than ever fullof picturesque, when on questioning othermariners who were on movement up anddown the river that hour, he found that few ofthem had seen any of fog at all, except whereit lay round the wharf. However, the shipwent out on the ebb tide, and was doubtlessby morning far down the river mouth. Shewas then, when they told us, well out to sea.

“And so, my dear Madam Mina, it is that wehave to rest for a time, for our enemy is on thesea, with the fog at his command, on his wayto the Danube mouth. To sail a ship takestime, go she never so quick. And when westart to go on land more quick, and we meethim there. Our best hope is to come on him

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when in the box between sunrise and sunset.For then he can make no struggle, and wemay deal with him as we should. There aredays for us, in which we can make ready ourplan. We know all about where he go. For wehave seen the owner of the ship, who haveshown us invoices and all papers that can be.The box we seek is to be landed in Varna, andto be given to an agent, one Ristics who willthere present his credentials. And so our mer-chant friend will have done his part. When heask if there be any wrong, for that so, he cantelegraph and have inquiry made at Varna,we say ‘no,’ for what is to be done is not forpolice or of the customs. It must be done byus alone and in our own way.”

When Dr. Van Helsing had done speaking, Iasked him if he were certain that the Counthad remained on board the ship. He replied,“We have the best proof of that, your ownevidence, when in the hypnotic trance thismorning.”

I asked him again if it were really necessary

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that they should pursue the Count, for oh! Idread Jonathan leaving me, and I know thathe would surely go if the others went. Heanswered in growing passion, at first quietly.As he went on, however, he grew more angryand more forceful, till in the end we could notbut see wherein was at least some of that per-sonal dominance which made him so long amaster amongst men.

“Yes, it is necessary, necessary, necessary! Foryour sake in the first, and then for the sake ofhumanity. This monster has done much harmalready, in the narrow scope where he findhimself, and in the short time when as yethe was only as a body groping his so smallmeasure in darkness and not knowing. Allthis have I told these others. You, my dearMadam Mina, will learn it in the phonographof my friend John, or in that of your husband.I have told them how the measure of leav-ing his own barren land, barren of peoples,and coming to a new land where life of manteems till they are like the multitude of stand-ing corn, was the work of centuries. Were an-

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other of the Undead, like him, to try to dowhat he has done, perhaps not all the cen-turies of the world that have been, or that willbe, could aid him. With this one, all the forcesof nature that are occult and deep and strongmust have worked together in some won-derous way. The very place, where he havebeen alive, Undead for all these centuries, isfull of strangeness of the geologic and chem-ical world. There are deep caverns and fis-sures that reach none know whither. Therehave been volcanoes, some of whose open-ings still send out waters of strange prop-erties, and gases that kill or make to viv-ify. Doubtless, there is something magneticor electric in some of these combinations ofoccult forces which work for physical life instrange way, and in himself were from thefirst some great qualities. In a hard and war-like time he was celebrate that he have moreiron nerve, more subtle brain, more braverheart, than any man. In him some vital prin-ciple have in strange way found their utmost.And as his body keep strong and grow and

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thrive, so his brain grow too. All this withoutthat diabolic aid which is surely to him. Forit have to yield to the powers that come from,and are, symbolic of good. And now this iswhat he is to us. He have infect you, oh for-give me, my dear, that I must say such, butit is for good of you that I speak. He infectyou 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 ofman’s common lot and with God’s sanction,shall make you like to him. This must notbe! 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 Sondie, will not be given over to monsters, whosevery existence would defame Him. He haveallowed us to redeem one soul already, andwe go out as the old knights of the Cross toredeem more. Like them we shall travel to-wards the sunrise. And like them, if we fall,we fall in good cause.”

He paused and I said, “But will not the Counttake his rebuff wisely? Since he has been

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driven from England, will he not avoid it, as atiger does the village from which he has beenhunted?”

“Aha!” he said, “your simile of the tigergood, for me, and I shall adopt him. Yourmaneater, as they of India call the tiger whohas once tasted blood of the human, care nomore for the other prey, but prowl unceasingtill he get him. This that we hunt from our vil-lage is a tiger, too, a maneater, and he nevercease to prowl. Nay, in himself he is not oneto retire and stay afar. In his life, his livinglife, he go over the Turkey frontier and attackhis enemy on his own ground. He be beatenback, but did he stay? No! He come again,and again, and again. Look at his persistenceand endurance. With the child-brain that wasto him he have long since conceive the ideaof coming to a great city. What does he do?He find out the place of all the world mostof promise for him. Then he deliberately sethimself down to prepare for the task. He findin patience just how is his strength, and whatare his powers. He study new tongues. He

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learn new social life, new environment of oldways, the politics, the law, the finance, the sci-ence, the habit of a new land and a new peo-ple who have come to be since he was. Hisglimpse that he have had, whet his appetiteonly and enkeen his desire. Nay, it help himto grow as to his brain. For it all prove tohim how right he was at the first in his sur-mises. He have done this alone, all alone!From a ruin tomb in a forgotten land. Whatmore may he not do when the greater worldof thought is open to him. He that can smileat death, as we know him. Who can flour-ish in the midst of diseases that kill off wholepeoples. Oh! If such an one was to come fromGod, and not the Devil, what a force for goodmight he not be in this old world of ours. Butwe are pledged to set the world free. Our toilmust be in silence, and our efforts all in se-cret. For in this enlightened age, when menbelieve not even what they see, the doubtingof 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,

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who are willing to peril even our own soulsfor the safety of one we love. For the goodof mankind, and for the honour and glory ofGod.”After a general discussion it was determinedthat for tonight nothing be definitely settled.That we should all sleep on the facts, andtry to think out the proper conclusions. To-morrow, at breakfast, we are to meet again,and after making our conclusions known toone another, we shall decide on some definitecause of action...I feel a wonderful peace and rest tonight. It isas if some haunting presence were removedfrom me. Perhaps...My surmise was not finished, could not be,for I caught sight in the mirror of the redmark upon my forehead, and I knew that Iwas still unclean.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

5 October.–We all arose early, and I think thatsleep did much for each and all of us. When

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we met at early breakfast there was more gen-eral cheerfulness than any of us had ever ex-pected to experience again.

It is really wonderful how much resiliencethere is in human nature. Let any obstruct-ing cause, no matter what, be removed inany way, even by death, and we fly back tofirst principles of hope and enjoyment. Morethan once as we sat around the table, my eyesopened in wonder whether the whole of thepast days had not been a dream. It was onlywhen I caught sight of the red blotch on Mrs.Harker’s forehead that I was brought back toreality. Even now, when I am gravely revolv-ing the matter, it is almost impossible to re-alize that the cause of all our trouble is stillexistent. Even Mrs. Harker seems to losesight of her trouble for whole spells. It is onlynow and again, when something recalls it toher mind, that she thinks of her terrible scar.We are to meet here in my study in half anhour and decide on our course of action. I seeonly one immediate difficulty, I know it byinstinct rather than reason. We shall all have

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to speak frankly. And yet I fear that in somemysterious way poor Mrs. Harker’s tongueis tied. I know that she forms conclusionsof her own, and from all that has been I canguess how brilliant and how true they mustbe. But she will not, or cannot, give them ut-terance. I have mentioned this to Van Hels-ing, and he and I are to talk it over when weare alone. I suppose it is some of that hor-rid poison which has got into her veins be-ginning to work. The Count had his ownpurposes when he gave her what Van Hels-ing called “the Vampire’s baptism of blood.”Well, there may be a poison that distills itselfout of good things. In an age when the ex-istence of ptomaines is a mystery we shouldnot wonder at anything! One thing I know,that if my instinct be true regarding poor Mrs.Harker’s silences, then there is a terrible diffi-culty, an unknown danger, in the work beforeus. The same power that compels her silencemay compel her speech. I dare not think fur-ther, for so I should in my thoughts dishon-our a noble woman!

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Later.–When the Professor came in, we talkedover the state of things. I could see that hehad something on his mind, which he wantedto say, but felt some hesitancy about broach-ing the subject. After beating about the busha little, he said, “Friend John, there is some-thing that you and I must talk of alone, justat the first at any rate. Later, we may have totake the others into our confidence.”

Then he stopped, so I waited. He went on,“Madam Mina, our poor, dear Madam Minais changing.”

A cold shiver ran through me to find myworst fears thus endorsed. Van Helsing con-tinued.

“With the sad experience of Miss Lucy, wemust this time be warned before things go toofar. Our task is now in reality more difficultthan ever, and this new trouble makes everyhour of the direst importance. I can see thecharacteristics of the vampire coming in herface. It is now but very, very slight. But it isto be seen if we have eyes to notice without

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prejudge. Her teeth are sharper, and at timesher eyes are more hard. But these are not all,there is to her the silence now often, as so itwas with Miss Lucy. She did not speak, evenwhen she wrote that which she wished to beknown later. Now my fear is this. If it be thatshe can, by our hypnotic trance, tell what theCount see and hear, is it not more true that hewho have hypnotize her first, and who havedrink of her very blood and make her drinkof his, should if he will, compel her mind todisclose to him that which she know?”

I nodded acquiescence. He went on, “Then,what we must do is to prevent this. We mustkeep her ignorant of our intent, and so shecannot tell what she know not. This is apainful task! Oh, so painful that it heartbreakme to think of it, but it must be. When todaywe meet, I must tell her that for reason whichwe will not to speak she must not more be ofour council, but be simply guarded by us.”

He wiped his forehead, which had brokenout in profuse perspiration at the thought of

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the pain which he might have to inflict uponthe poor soul already so tortured. I knew thatit would be some sort of comfort to him if Itold him that I also had come to the same con-clusion. For at any rate it would take awaythe pain of doubt. I told him, and the effectwas as I expected.

It is now close to the time of our general gath-ering. Van Helsing has gone away to preparefor the meeting, and his painful part of it. I re-ally believe his purpose is to be able to prayalone.

Later.–At the very outset of our meeting agreat personal relief was experienced by bothVan Helsing and myself. Mrs. Harker hadsent a message by her husband to say that shewould not join us at present, as she thoughtit better that we should be free to discuss ourmovements without her presence to embar-rass us. The Professor and I looked at eachother for an instant, and somehow we bothseemed relieved. For my own part, I thoughtthat if Mrs. Harker realized the danger her-

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self, it was much pain as well as much dangeraverted. Under the circumstances we agreed,by a questioning look and answer, with fin-ger on lip, to preserve silence in our suspi-cions, until we should have been able to con-fer alone again. We went at once into our Planof Campaign.

Van Helsing roughly put the facts before usfirst, “The Czarina Catherine left the Thamesyesterday morning. It will take her at thequickest speed she has ever made at leastthree weeks to reach Varna. But we can traveloverland to the same place in three days.Now, if we allow for two days less for theship’s voyage, owing to such weather influ-ences as we know that the Count can bring tobear, and if we allow a whole day and nightfor any delays which may occur to us, thenwe have a margin of nearly two weeks.

“Thus, in order to be quite safe, we mustleave here on 17th at latest. Then we shall atany rate be in Varna a day before the ship ar-rives, and able to make such preparations as

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may be necessary. Of course we shall all goarmed, armed against evil things, spiritual aswell as physical.”

Here Quincey Morris added, “I understandthat the Count comes from a wolf country,and it may be that he shall get there beforeus. I propose that we add Winchesters to ourarmament. I have a kind of belief in a Winch-ester when there is any trouble of that sortaround. Do you remember, Art, when we hadthe pack after us at Tobolsk? What wouldn’twe have given then for a repeater apiece!”

“Good!” said Van Helsing, “Winchesters itshall be. Quincey’s head is level at times, butmost so when there is to hunt, metaphor bemore dishonour to science than wolves be ofdanger to man. In the meantime we can donothing here. And as I think that Varna isnot familiar to any of us, why not go theremore soon? It is as long to wait here as there.Tonight and tomorrow we can get ready, andthen if all be well, we four can set out on ourjourney.”

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“We four?” said Harker interrogatively, look-ing from one to another of us.“Of course!” answered the Professor quickly.“You must remain to take care of your sosweet wife!”Harker was silent for awhile and then said ina hollow voice, “Let us talk of that part of itin the morning. I want to consult with Mina.”I thought that now was the time for Van Hels-ing to warn him not to disclose our plan toher, but he took no notice. I looked at himsignificantly and coughed. For answer he puthis finger to his lips and turned away.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

5 October, afternoon.–For some time after ourmeeting this morning I could not think. Thenew phases of things leave my mind in a stateof wonder which allows no room for activethought. Mina’s determination not to takeany part in the discussion set me thinking.And as I could not argue the matter with her,

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I could only guess. I am as far as ever froma solution now. The way the others receivedit, too puzzled me. The last time we talked ofthe subject we agreed that there was to be nomore concealment of anything amongst us.Mina is sleeping now, calmly and sweetly likea little child. Her lips are curved and her facebeams with happiness. Thank God, there aresuch moments still for her.

Later.–How strange it all is. I sat watchingMina’s happy sleep, and I came as near tobeing happy myself as I suppose I shall everbe. As the evening drew on, and the earthtook its shadows from the sun sinking lower,the silence of the room grew more and moresolemn to me.

All at once Mina opened her eyes, and look-ing at me tenderly said, “Jonathan, I wantyou to promise me something on your wordof honour. A promise made to me, but madeholily in God’s hearing, and not to be bro-ken though I should go down on my kneesand implore you with bitter tears. Quick, you

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must make it to me at once.”“Mina,” I said, “a promise like that, I cannotmake at once. I may have no right to makeit.”“But, dear one,” she said, with such spiritualintensity that her eyes were like pole stars, “itis I who wish it. And it is not for myself. Youcan ask Dr. Van Helsing if I am not right. If hedisagrees you may do as you will. Nay, moreif you all agree, later you are absolved fromthe promise.”“I promise!” I said, and for a moment shelooked supremely happy. Though to me allhappiness for her was denied by the red scaron her forehead.She said, “Promise me that you will not tellme anything of the plans formed for the cam-paign against the Count. Not by word, orinference, or implication, not at any timewhilst this remains to me!” And she solemnlypointed to the scar. I saw that she was inearnest, and said solemnly, “I promise!” andas I said it I felt that from that instant a door

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had been shut between us.

Later, midnight.–Mina has been bright andcheerful all the evening. So much so that allthe rest seemed to take courage, as if infectedsomewhat with her gaiety. As a result evenI myself felt as if the pall of gloom whichweighs us down were somewhat lifted. Weall retired early. Mina is now sleeping likea little child. It is wonderful thing that herfaculty of sleep remains to her in the midstof her terrible trouble. Thank God for it, forthen at least she can forget her care. Perhapsher example may affect me as her gaiety didtonight. I shall try it. Oh! For a dreamlesssleep.

6 October, morning.–Another surprise. Minawoke me early, about the same time as yester-day, and asked me to bring Dr. Van Helsing. Ithought that it was another occasion for hyp-notism, and without question went for theProfessor. He had evidently expected somesuch call, for I found him dressed in his room.His door was ajar, so that he could hear the

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opening of the door of our room. He came atonce. As he passed into the room, he askedMina if the others might come, too.

“No,” she said quite simply, “it will not benecessary. You can tell them just as well. Imust go with you on your journey.”

Dr. Van Helsing was as startled as I was. Af-ter a moment’s pause he asked, “But why?”

“You must take me with you. I am safer withyou, and you shall be safer, too.”

“But why, dear Madam Mina? You know thatyour safety is our solemnest duty. We go intodanger, to which you are, or may be, moreliable than any of us from... from circum-stances... things that have been.” He pausedembarrassed.

As she replied, she raised her finger andpointed to her forehead. “I know. That is whyI must go. I can tell you now, whilst the sun iscoming up. I may not be able again. I knowthat when the Count wills me I must go. Iknow that if he tells me to come in secret, I

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must by wile. By any device to hoodwink,even Jonathan.” God saw the look that sheturned on me as she spoke, and if there beindeed a Recording Angel that look is notedto her ever-lasting honour. I could only claspher hand. I could not speak. My emotion wastoo great for even the relief of tears.

She went on. “You men are brave and strong.You are strong in your numbers, for you candefy that which would break down the hu-man endurance of one who had to guardalone. Besides, I may be of service, since youcan hypnotize me and so learn that whicheven I myself do not know.”

Dr. Van Helsing said gravely, “Madam Mina,you are, as always, most wise. You shallwith us come. And together we shall do thatwhich we go forth to achieve.”

When he had spoken, Mina’s long spell of si-lence made me look at her. She had fallenback on her pillow asleep. She did not evenwake when I had pulled up the blind and letin the sunlight which flooded the room. Van

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Helsing motioned to me to come with himquietly. We went to his room, and within aminute Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, andMr. Morris were with us also.

He told them what Mina had said, and wenton. “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 isto her an agony to tell us so much as she hasdone. But it is most right, and we are warnedin time. There must be no chance lost, andin Varna we must be ready to act the instantwhen that ship arrives.”

“What shall we do exactly?” asked Mr. Mor-ris laconically.

The Professor paused before replying, “Weshall at the first board that ship. Then, whenwe have identified the box, we shall place abranch of the wild rose on it. This we shallfasten, for when it is there none can emerge,so that at least says the superstition. And tosuperstition must we trust at the first. It wasman’s faith in the early, and it have its root

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in faith still. Then, when we get the opportu-nity that we seek, when none are near to see,we shall open the box, and... and all will bewell.”

“I shall not wait for any opportunity,” saidMorris. “When I see the box I shall open itand destroy the monster, though there werea thousand men looking on, and if I am to bewiped out for it the next moment!” I graspedhis hand instinctively and found it as firm asa piece of steel. I think he understood mylook. I hope he did.

“Good boy,” said Dr. Van Helsing. “Braveboy. Quincey is all man. God bless him forit. My child, believe me none of us shall lagbehind or pause from any fear. I do but saywhat we may do... what we must do. But, in-deed, indeed we cannot say what we may do.There are so many things which may happen,and their ways and their ends are so variousthat until the moment we may not say. Weshall all be armed, in all ways. And when thetime for the end has come, our effort shall not

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be lack. Now let us today put all our affairsin order. Let all things which touch on othersdear to us, and who on us depend, be com-plete. For none of us can tell what, or when,or how, the end may be. As for me, my ownaffairs are regulate, and as I have nothing elseto do, I shall go make arrangements for thetravel. I shall have all tickets and so forth forour journey.”

There was nothing further to be said, and weparted. I shall now settle up all my affairs ofearth, and be ready for whatever may come.

Later.–It is done. My will is made, and allcomplete. Mina if she survive is my sole heir.If it should not be so, then the others whohave been so good to us shall have remain-der.

It is now drawing towards the sunset. Mina’suneasiness calls my attention to it. I am surethat there is something on her mind whichthe time of exact sunset will reveal. Theseoccasions are becoming harrowing times forus all. For each sunrise and sunset opens

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up some new danger, some new pain, whichhowever, may in God’s will be means to agood end. I write all these things in the di-ary 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.

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

11 October, Evening.–Jonathan Harker hasasked me to note this, as he says he is hardlyequal to the task, and he wants an exactrecord kept.I think that none of us were surprised whenwe were asked to see Mrs. Harker a little be-fore the time of sunset. We have of late cometo understand that sunrise and sunset are toher times of peculiar freedom. When her oldself can be manifest without any controlling

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force subduing or restraining her, or incitingher to action. This mood or condition beginssome half hour or more before actual sunriseor sunset, and lasts till either the sun is high,or whilst the clouds are still aglow with therays streaming above the horizon. At firstthere is a sort of negative condition, as if sometie were loosened, and then the absolute free-dom quickly follows. When, however, thefreedom ceases the change back or relapsecomes quickly, preceded only by a spell ofwarning silence.

Tonight, when we met, she was somewhatconstrained, and bore all the signs of an in-ternal struggle. I put it down myself to hermaking a violent effort at the earliest instantshe could do so.

A very few minutes, however, gave her com-plete control of herself. Then, motioning herhusband to sit beside her on the sofa whereshe was half reclining, she made the rest ofus bring chairs up close.

Taking her husband’s hand in hers, she be-

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gan, “We are all here together in freedom, forperhaps the last time! I know that you willalways be with me to the end.” This was toher husband whose hand had, as we couldsee, tightened upon her. “In the morning wego out upon our task, and God alone knowswhat may be in store for any of us. You aregoing to be so good to me to take me withyou. I know that all that brave earnest mencan do for a poor weak woman, whose soulperhaps is lost, no, no, not yet, but is at anyrate at stake, you will do. But you must re-member that I am not as you are. There is apoison in my blood, in my soul, which maydestroy me, which must destroy me, unlesssome relief comes to us. Oh, my friends, youknow as well as I do, that my soul is at stake.And though I know there is one way out forme, you must not and I must not take it!” Shelooked appealingly to us all in turn, begin-ning and ending with her husband.

“What is that way?” asked Van Helsing in ahoarse voice. “What is that way, which wemust not, may not, take?”

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“That I may die now, either by my own handor that of another, before the greater evil is en-tirely wrought. I know, and you know, thatwere I once dead you could and would setfree my immortal spirit, even as you did mypoor Lucy’s. Were death, or the fear of death,the only thing that stood in the way I wouldnot shrink to die here now, amidst the friendswho love me. But death is not all. I can-not believe that to die in such a case, whenthere is hope before us and a bitter task to bedone, is God’s will. Therefore, I on my part,give up here the certainty of eternal rest, andgo out into the dark where may be the black-est things that the world or the nether worldholds!”

We were all silent, for we knew instinctivelythat this was only a prelude. The faces ofthe others were set, and Harker’s grew ashengrey. Perhaps, he guessed better than any ofus what was coming.

She continued, “This is what I can give intothe hotch-pot.” I could not but note the

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quaint legal phrase which she used in such aplace, and with all seriousness. “What willeach of you give? Your lives I know,” shewent on quickly, “that is easy for brave men.Your lives are God’s, and you can give themback to Him, but what will you give to me?”She looked again questioningly, but this timeavoided her husband’s face. Quincey seemedto understand, he nodded, and her face lit up.“Then I shall tell you plainly what I want, forthere must be no doubtful matter in this con-nection between us now. You must promiseme, one and all, even you, my beloved hus-band, that should the time come, you will killme.”

“What is that time?” The voice wasQuincey’s, but it was low and strained.

“When you shall be convinced that I am sochanged that it is better that I die that I maylive. When I am thus dead in the flesh, thenyou will, without a moment’s delay, drive astake through me and cut off my head, ordo whatever else may be wanting to give me

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rest!”Quincey was the first to rise after the pause.He knelt down before her and taking herhand in his said solemnly, “I’m only a roughfellow, who hasn’t, perhaps, lived as a manshould to win such a distinction, but I swearto you by all that I hold sacred and dear that,should the time ever come, I shall not flinchfrom the duty that you have set us. And Ipromise you, too, that I shall make all certain,for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that thetime has come!”“My true friend!” was all she could say amidher fast-falling tears, as bending over, shekissed his hand.“I swear the same, my dear Madam Mina!”said Van Helsing. “And I!” said Lord Go-dalming, each of them in turn kneeling to herto take the oath. I followed, myself.Then her husband turned to her wan-eyedand with a greenish pallor which subduedthe snowy whiteness of his hair, and asked,“And must I, too, make such a promise, oh,

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my wife?”

“You too, my dearest,” she said, with infiniteyearning of pity in her voice and eyes. “Youmust not shrink. You are nearest and dearestand all the world to me. Our souls are knitinto one, for all life and all time. Think, dear,that there have been times when brave menhave killed their wives and their womenkind,to keep them from falling into the hands ofthe enemy. Their hands did not falter any themore because those that they loved imploredthem to slay them. It is men’s duty towardsthose whom they love, in such times of soretrial! And oh, my dear, if it is to be that Imust meet death at any hand, let it be at thehand of him that loves me best. Dr. Van Hels-ing, I have not forgotten your mercy in poorLucy’s case to him who loved.” She stoppedwith 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 youto make it a happy memory of my husband’slife that it was his loving hand which set mefree from the awful thrall upon me.”

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“Again I swear!” came the Professor’s reso-nant voice.Mrs. Harker smiled, positively smiled, aswith a sigh of relief she leaned back and said,“And now one word of warning, a warningwhich you must never forget. This time, if itever come, may come quickly and unexpect-edly, and in such case you must lose no timein using your opportunity. At such a time Imyself might be... nay! If the time ever come,shall be, leagued with your enemy againstyou.“One more request,” she became very solemnas she said this, “it is not vital and necessarylike the other, but I want you to do one thingfor me, if you will.”We all acquiesced, but no one spoke. Therewas no need to speak.“I want you to read the Burial Service.” Shewas interrupted by a deep groan from herhusband. Taking his hand in hers, she heldit over her heart, and continued. “You mustread it over me some day. Whatever may be

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the issue of all this fearful state of things, itwill be a sweet thought to all or some of us.You, my dearest, will I hope read it, for then itwill be in your voice in my memory forever,come what may!”

“But oh, my dear one,” he pleaded, “death isafar off from you.”

“Nay,” she said, holding up a warning hand.“I am deeper in death at this moment thanif the weight of an earthly grave lay heavyupon me!”

“Oh, my wife, must I read it?” he said, beforehe began.

“It would comfort me, my husband!” was allshe said, and he began to read when she hadgot the book ready.

How can I, how could anyone, tell of thatstrange scene, its solemnity, its gloom, its sad-ness, its horror, and withal, its sweetness.Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but atravesty of bitter truth in anything holy oremotional, would have been melted to the

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heart had he seen that little group of lov-ing and devoted friends kneeling round thatstricken and sorrowing lady; or heard thetender passion of her husband’s voice, as intones so broken and emotional that often hehad to pause, he read the simple and beau-tiful service from the Burial of the Dead. Icannot go on... words... and v-voices... f-failm-me!

She was right in her instinct. Strange as itwas, bizarre as it may hereafter seem even tous who felt its potent influence at the time, itcomforted us much. And the silence, whichshowed Mrs. Harker’s coming relapse fromher freedom of soul, did not seem so full ofdespair to any of us as we had dreaded.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

15 October, Varna.–We left Charing Cross onthe morning of the 12th, got to Paris thesame night, and took the places secured forus in the Orient Express. We traveled night

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and day, arriving here at about five o’clock.Lord Godalming went to the Consulate to seeif any telegram had arrived for him, whilstthe rest of us came on to this hotel, “theOdessus.” The journey may have had inci-dents. I was, however, too eager to get on,to care for them. Until the Czarina Cather-ine comes into port there will be no interestfor me in anything in the wide world. ThankGod! Mina is well, and looks to be gettingstronger. Her colour is coming back. Shesleeps a great deal. Throughout the journeyshe slept nearly all the time. Before sunriseand sunset, however, she is very wakeful andalert. And it has become a habit for Van Hels-ing to hypnotize her at such times. At first,some effort was needed, and he had to makemany passes. But now, she seems to yield atonce, as if by habit, and scarcely any actionis needed. He seems to have power at theseparticular moments to simply will, and herthoughts obey him. He always asks her whatshe can see and hear.

She answers to the first, “Nothing, all is

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dark.”

And to the second, “I can hear the waves lap-ping against the ship, and the water rushingby. Canvas and cordage strain and masts andyards creak. The wind is high... I can hear itin the shrouds, and the bow throws back thefoam.”

It is evident that the Czarina Catherine is stillat sea, hastening on her way to Varna. LordGodalming has just returned. He had fourtelegrams, one each day since we started,and all to the same effect. That the CzarinaCatherine had not been reported to Lloyd’sfrom anywhere. He had arranged beforeleaving London that his agent should sendhim every day a telegram saying if the shiphad been reported. He was to have a mes-sage even if she were not reported, so that hemight be sure that there was a watch beingkept at the other end of the wire.

We had dinner and went to bed early. To-morrow we are to see the Vice Consul, andto arrange, if we can, about getting on board

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the ship as soon as she arrives. Van Hels-ing says that our chance will be to get on theboat between sunrise and sunset. The Count,even if he takes the form of a bat, cannot crossthe running water of his own volition, and socannot leave the ship. As he dare not changeto man’s form without suspicion, which heevidently wishes to avoid, he must remain inthe box. If, then, we can come on board aftersunrise, he is at our mercy, for we can openthe box and make sure of him, as we did ofpoor Lucy, before he wakes. What mercy heshall get from us all will not count for much.We think that we shall not have much trou-ble with officials or the seamen. Thank God!This is the country where bribery can do any-thing, and we are well supplied with money.We have only to make sure that the ship can-not come into port between sunset and sun-rise without our being warned, and we shallbe safe. Judge Moneybag will settle this case,I think!

16 October.–Mina’s report still the same. Lap-ping waves and rushing water, darkness and

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favouring winds. We are evidently in goodtime, and when we hear of the CzarinaCatherine we shall be ready. As she mustpass the Dardanelles we are sure to havesome report.

17 October.–Everything is pretty well fixednow, I think, to welcome the Count on his re-turn from his tour. Godalming told the ship-pers that he fancied that the box sent aboardmight contain something stolen from a friendof his, and got a half consent that he mightopen it at his own risk. The owner gave hima paper telling the Captain to give him everyfacility in doing whatever he chose on boardthe ship, and also a similar authorization tohis agent at Varna. We have seen the agent,who was much impressed with Godalming’skindly manner to him, and we are all satis-fied that whatever he can do to aid our wisheswill be done.

We have already arranged what to do in casewe get the box open. If the Count is there,Van Helsing and Seward will cut off his head

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at once and drive a stake through his heart.Morris and Godalming and I shall prevent in-terference, even if we have to use the armswhich we shall have ready. The Professorsays that if we can so treat the Count’s body,it will soon after fall into dust. In such casethere would be no evidence against us, incase any suspicion of murder were aroused.But even if it were not, we should stand orfall by our act, and perhaps some day thisvery script may be evidence to come betweensome of us and a rope. For myself, I shouldtake the chance only too thankfully if it wereto come. We mean to leave no stone unturnedto carry out our intent. We have arrangedwith certain officials that the instant the Cza-rina Catherine is seen, we are to be informedby a special messenger.

24 October.–A whole week of waiting. Dailytelegrams to Godalming, but only the samestory. “Not yet reported.” Mina’s morningand evening hypnotic answer is unvaried.Lapping waves, rushing water, and creakingmasts.

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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 Dard-anelles.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

25 October.–How I miss my phonograph! Towrite a diary with a pen is irksome to me! ButVan Helsing says I must. We were all wildwith excitement yesterday when Godalminggot his telegram from Lloyd’s. I know nowwhat men feel in battle when the call to actionis heard. Mrs. Harker, alone of our party, didnot show any signs of emotion. After all, it isnot strange that she did not, for we took spe-cial care not to let her know anything aboutit, and we all tried not to show any excite-ment when we were in her presence. In olddays she would, I am sure, have noticed, nomatter how we might have tried to conceal it.

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But in this way she is greatly changed dur-ing the past three weeks. The lethargy growsupon her, and though she seems strong andwell, and is getting back some of her colour,Van Helsing and I are not satisfied. We talkof her often. We have not, however, saida word to the others. It would break poorHarker’s heart, certainly his nerve, if he knewthat we had even a suspicion on the subject.Van Helsing examines, he tells me, her teethvery carefully, whilst she is in the hypnoticcondition, for he says that so long as they donot begin to sharpen there is no active dan-ger of a change in her. If this change shouldcome, it would be necessary to take steps! Weboth know what those steps would have tobe, though we do not mention our thoughtsto each other. We should neither of us shrinkfrom the task, awful though it be to contem-plate. “Euthanasia” is an excellent and a com-forting word! I am grateful to whoever in-vented it.

It is only about 24 hours’ sail from the Dard-anelles to here, at the rate the Czarina Cather-

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ine has come from London. She should there-fore arrive some time in the morning, but asshe cannot possibly get in before noon, we areall about to retire early. We shall get up at oneo’clock, so as to be ready.

25 October, Noon.–No news yet of the ship’sarrival. Mrs. Harker’s hypnotic report thismorning was the same as usual, so it is pos-sible that we may get news at any moment.We men are all in a fever of excitement, ex-cept Harker, who is calm. His hands are coldas ice, and an hour ago I found him whettingthe edge of the great Ghoorka knife whichhe now always carries with him. It will bea bad lookout for the Count if the edge ofthat “Kukri” ever touches his throat, drivenby that stern, ice-cold hand!

Van Helsing and I were a little alarmed aboutMrs. Harker today. About noon she gotinto a sort of lethargy which we did not like.Although we kept silence to the others, wewere neither of us happy about it. She hadbeen restless all the morning, so that we were

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at first glad to know that she was sleeping.When, however, her husband mentioned ca-sually that she was sleeping so soundly thathe could not wake her, we went to her roomto see for ourselves. She was breathing nat-urally and looked so well and peaceful thatwe agreed that the sleep was better for herthan anything else. Poor girl, she has so muchto forget that it is no wonder that sleep, if itbrings oblivion to her, does her good.

Later.–Our opinion was justified, for when af-ter a refreshing sleep of some hours she wokeup, she seemed brighter and better than shehad been for days. At sunset she made theusual hypnotic report. Wherever he may bein the Black Sea, the Count is hurrying to hisdestination. To his doom, I trust!

26 October.–Another day and no tidings ofthe Czarina Catherine. She ought to be hereby now. That she is still journeying some-where is apparent, for Mrs. Harker’s hyp-notic report at sunrise was still the same. Itis possible that the vessel may be lying by, at

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times, for fog. Some of the steamers whichcame in last evening reported patches of fogboth to north and south of the port. We mustcontinue our watching, as the ship may nowbe signalled any moment.

27 October, Noon.–Most strange. No newsyet of the ship we wait for. Mrs. Harker re-ported last night and this morning as usual.“Lapping waves and rushing water,” thoughshe added that “the waves were very faint.”The telegrams from London have been thesame, “no further report.” Van Helsing is ter-ribly anxious, and told me just now that hefears the Count is escaping us.

He added significantly, “I did not like thatlethargy of Madam Mina’s. Souls and mem-ories can do strange things during trance.” Iwas about to ask him more, but Harker justthen came in, and he held up a warning hand.We must try tonight at sunset to make herspeak more fully when in her hypnotic state.

28 October.–Telegram. Rufus Smith, London,to Lord Godalming, care H. B. M. Vice Con-

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sul, Varna

“Czarina Catherine reported entering Galatzat one o’clock today.”

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

28 October.–When the telegram came an-nouncing the arrival in Galatz I do not thinkit was such a shock to any of us as mighthave been expected. True, we did not knowwhence, or how, or when, the bolt wouldcome. But I think we all expected that some-thing strange would happen. The day of ar-rival at Varna made us individually satisfiedthat things would not be just as we had ex-pected. We only waited to learn where thechange would occur. None the less, how-ever, it was a surprise. I suppose that natureworks on such a hopeful basis that we believeagainst ourselves that things will be as theyought to be, not as we should know that theywill be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to theangels, even if it be a will-o’-the-wisp to man.

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Van Helsing raised his hand over his head fora moment, as though in remonstrance withthe Almighty. But he said not a word, and ina few seconds stood up with his face sternlyset.

Lord Godalming grew very pale, and satbreathing heavily. I was myself half stunnedand looked in wonder at one after another.Quincey Morris tightened his belt with thatquick movement which I knew so well. Inour old wandering days it meant “action.”Mrs. Harker grew ghastly white, so that thescar on her forehead seemed to burn, but shefolded her hands meekly and looked up inprayer. Harker smiled, actually smiled, thedark, bitter smile of one who is without hope,but at the same time his action belied hiswords, for his hands instinctively sought thehilt 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.

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“How on earth do you know?” said Art.“You forget, or perhaps you do not know,though Jonathan does and so does Dr. VanHelsing, that I am the train fiend. At homein Exeter I always used to make up the timetables, so as to be helpful to my husband. Ifound it so useful sometimes, that I alwaysmake a study of the time tables now. I knewthat if anything were to take us to CastleDracula we should go by Galatz, or at anyrate through Bucharest, so I learned the timesvery carefully. Unhappily there are not manyto learn, as the only train tomorrow leaves asI say.”“Wonderful woman!” murmured the Profes-sor.“Can’t we get a special?” asked Lord Go-dalming.Van Helsing shook his head, “I fear not. Thisland is very different from yours or mine.Even if we did have a special, it would prob-ably not arrive as soon as our regular train.Moreover, we have something to prepare. We

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must think. Now let us organize. You, friendArthur, go to the train and get the tickets andarrange that all be ready for us to go in themorning. Do you, friend Jonathan, go to theagent of the ship and get from him letters tothe agent in Galatz, with authority to make asearch of the ship just as it was here. QuinceyMorris, you see the Vice Consul, and get hisaid with his fellow in Galatz and all he cando to make our way smooth, so that no timesbe lost when over the Danube. John will staywith Madam Mina and me, and we shall con-sult. For so if time be long you may be de-layed. And it will not matter when the sunset, since I am here with Madam to make re-port.”

“And I,” said Mrs. Harker brightly, and morelike her old self than she had been for manya long day, “shall try to be of use in all ways,and shall think and write for you as I used todo. Something is shifting from me in somestrange way, and I feel freer than I have beenof late!”

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The three younger men looked happier at themoment as they seemed to realize the signif-icance of her words. But Van Helsing and I,turning to each other, met each a grave andtroubled glance. We said nothing at the time,however.

When the three men had gone out to theirtasks Van Helsing asked Mrs. Harker to lookup the copy of the diaries and find him thepart of Harker’s journal at the Castle. Shewent away to get it.

When the door was shut upon her he said tome, “We mean the same! Speak out!”

“Here is some change. It is a hope that makesme sick, for it may deceive us.”

“Quite so. Do you know why I asked her toget the manuscript?”

“No!” said I, “unless it was to get an oppor-tunity of seeing me alone.”

“You are in part right, friend John, but onlyin part. I want to tell you something. Andoh, my friend, I am taking a great, a terrible,

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risk. But I believe it is right. In the momentwhen Madam Mina said those words that ar-rest both our understanding, an inspirationcame to me. In the trance of three days agothe Count sent her his spirit to read her mind.Or more like he took her to see him in hisearth box in the ship with water rushing, justas it go free at rise and set of sun. He learnthen that we are here, for she have more totell in her open life with eyes to see ears tohear than he, shut as he is, in his coffin box.Now he make his most effort to escape us. Atpresent he want her not.

“He is sure with his so great knowledge thatshe 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! ThereI have hope that our man brains that havebeen of man so long and that have not lostthe grace of God, will come higher than hischild-brain that lie in his tomb for centuries,that grow not yet to our stature, and that doonly work selfish and therefore small. Herecomes Madam Mina. Not a word to her of her

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trance! She knows it not, and it would over-whelm her and make despair just when wewant all her hope, all her courage, when mostwe want all her great brain which is trainedlike man’s brain, but is of sweet woman andhave a special power which the Count giveher, and which he may not take away alto-gether, though he think not so. Hush! Letme speak, and you shall learn. Oh, John, myfriend, we are in awful straits. I fear, as Inever feared before. We can only trust thegood God. Silence! Here she comes!”

I thought that the Professor was going tobreak down and have hysterics, just as hehad when Lucy died, but with a great efforthe controlled himself and was at perfect ner-vous poise when Mrs. Harker tripped intothe room, bright and happy looking and, inthe doing of work, seemingly forgetful of hermisery. As she came in, she handed a num-ber of sheets of typewriting to Van Helsing.He looked over them gravely, his face bright-ening up as he read.

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Then holding the pages between his fingerand thumb he said, “Friend John, to youwith so much experience already, and youtoo, dear Madam Mina, that are young, hereis a lesson. Do not fear ever to think. Ahalf thought has been buzzing often in mybrain, but I fear to let him loose his wings.Here now, with more knowledge, I go backto where that half thought come from and Ifind that he be no half thought at all. That bea whole thought, though so young that he isnot yet strong to use his little wings. Nay, likethe ‘Ugly Duck’ of my friend Hans Andersen,he be no duck thought at all, but a big swanthought that sail nobly on big wings, whenthe time come for him to try them. See I readhere what Jonathan have written.

“That other of his race who, in a later age,again and again, brought his forces over TheGreat River into Turkey Land, who when hewas beaten back, came again, and again, andagain, though he had to come alone fromthe bloody field where his troops were be-ing slaughtered, since he knew that he alone

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could ultimately triumph.

“What does this tell us? Not much? No! TheCount’s child thought see nothing, thereforehe speak so free. Your man thought see noth-ing. My man thought see nothing, till justnow. No! But there comes another word fromsome one who speak without thought be-cause she, too, know not what it mean, whatit might mean. Just as there are elementswhich rest, yet when in nature’s course theymove on their way and they touch, the pouf!And there comes a flash of light, heavenwide, that blind and kill and destroy some.But that show up all earth below for leaguesand leagues. Is it not so? Well, I shall ex-plain. To begin, have you ever study the phi-losophy of crime? ‘Yes’ and ‘No.’ You, John,yes, for it is a study of insanity. You, no,Madam Mina, for crime touch you not, notbut once. Still, your mind works true, andargues not a particulari ad universale. Thereis this peculiarity in criminals. It is so con-stant, in all countries and at all times, thateven police, who know not much from phi-

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losophy, come to know it empirically, that itis. That is to be empiric. The criminal alwayswork at one crime, that is the true criminalwho seems predestinate to crime, and whowill of none other. This criminal has not fullman brain. He is clever and cunning and re-sourceful, but he be not of man stature as tobrain. He be of child brain in much. Nowthis criminal of ours is predestinate to crimealso. He, too, have child brain, and it is ofthe child to do what he have done. The littlebird, the little fish, the little animal learn notby principle, but empirically. And when helearn to do, then there is to him the groundto start from to do more. ‘Dos pou sto,’ saidArchimedes. ‘Give me a fulcrum, and I shallmove the world!’ To do once, is the fulcrumwhereby child brain become man brain. Anduntil he have the purpose to do more, he con-tinue to do the same again every time, justas he have done before! Oh, my dear, I seethat your eyes are opened, and that to youthe lightning flash show all the leagues,” forMrs. Harker began to clap her hands and her

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eyes sparkled.

He went on, “Now you shall speak. Tell ustwo dry men of science what you see withthose so bright eyes.” He took her hand andheld it whilst he spoke. His finger and thumbclosed on her pulse, as I thought instinctivelyand unconsciously, as she spoke.

“The Count is a criminal and of criminaltype. Nordau and Lombroso would so clas-sify him, and qua criminal he is of an imper-fectly formed mind. Thus, in a difficulty hehas to seek resource in habit. His past is aclue, and the one page of it that we know, andthat from his own lips, tells that once before,when in what Mr. Morris would call a ‘tightplace,’ he went back to his own country fromthe land he had tried to invade, and thence,without losing purpose, prepared himself fora new effort. He came again better equippedfor his work, and won. So he came to Lon-don to invade a new land. He was beaten,and when all hope of success was lost, andhis existence in danger, he fled back over the

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sea to his home. Just as formerly he had fledback over the Danube from Turkey Land.”

“Good, good! Oh, you so clever lady!” saidVan Helsing, enthusiastically, as he stoopedand kissed her hand. A moment later he saidto me, as calmly as though we had been hav-ing a sick room consultation, “Seventy-twoonly, and in all this excitement. I have hope.”

Turning to her again, he said with keen ex-pectation, “But go on. Go on! There is moreto tell if you will. Be not afraid. John and Iknow. I do in any case, and shall tell you ifyou are right. Speak, without fear!”

“I will try to. But you will forgive me if I seemtoo egotistical.”

“Nay! Fear not, you must be egotist, for it isof you that we think.”

“Then, as he is criminal he is selfish. And ashis intellect is small and his action is basedon selfishness, he confines himself to one pur-pose. That purpose is remorseless. As he fledback over the Danube, leaving his forces to

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be cut to pieces, so now he is intent on be-ing safe, careless of all. So his own selfish-ness frees my soul somewhat from the terri-ble power which he acquired over me on thatdreadful night. I felt it! Oh, I felt it! ThankGod, for His great mercy! My soul is freerthan it has been since that awful hour. Andall that haunts me is a fear lest in some tranceor dream he may have used my knowledgefor his ends.”

The Professor stood up, “He has so usedyour mind, and by it he has left us herein Varna, whilst the ship that carried himrushed through enveloping fog up to Galatz,where, doubtless, he had made preparationfor escaping from us. But his child mindonly saw so far. And it may be that as everis in God’s Providence, the very thing thatthe evil doer most reckoned on for his self-ish good, turns out to be his chiefest harm.The hunter is taken in his own snare, as thegreat Psalmist says. For now that he think heis free from every trace of us all, and that hehas escaped us with so many hours to him,

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then his selfish child brain will whisper himto sleep. He think, too, that as he cut him-self off from knowing your mind, there canbe no knowledge of him to you. There iswhere he fail! That terrible baptism of bloodwhich he give you makes you free to go tohim in spirit, as you have as yet done in yourtimes of freedom, when the sun rise and set.At such times you go by my volition and notby his. And this power to good of you andothers, you have won from your suffering athis hands. This is now all more precious thathe know it not, and to guard himself haveeven cut himself off from his knowledge ofour where. We, however, are not selfish, andwe believe that God is with us through allthis blackness, and these many dark hours.We shall follow him, and we shall not flinch,even if we peril ourselves that we become likehim. Friend John, this has been a great hour,and it have done much to advance us on ourway. You must be scribe and write him alldown, so that when the others return fromtheir work you can give it to them, then they

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shall know as we do.”And so I have written it whilst we wait theirreturn, and Mrs. Harker has written with thetypewriter all since she brought the MS to us.

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DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

29 October.–This is written in the train fromVarna to Galatz. Last night we all assembleda little before the time of sunset. Each of ushad done his work as well as he could, sofar as thought, and endeavour, and oppor-tunity go, we are prepared for the whole ofour journey, and for our work when we getto Galatz. When the usual time came roundMrs. Harker prepared herself for her hyp-notic effort, and after a longer and more se-rious effort on the part of Van Helsing than

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has been usually necessary, she sank into thetrance. Usually she speaks on a hint, butthis time the Professor had to ask her ques-tions, and to ask them pretty resolutely, be-fore we could learn anything. At last her an-swer came.

“I can see nothing. We are still. There are nowaves lapping, but only a steady swirl of wa-ter softly running against the hawser. I canhear men’s voices calling, near and far, andthe roll and creak of oars in the rowlocks.A gun is fired somewhere, the echo of itseems far away. There is tramping of feetoverhead, and ropes and chains are draggedalong. 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 impul-sively, from where she lay on the sofa, andraised both her hands, palms upwards, as iflifting a weight. Van Helsing and I lookedat each other with understanding. Quinceyraised his eyebrows slightly and looked ather intently, whilst Harker’s hand instinc-

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tively closed round the hilt of his Kukri.There was a long pause. We all knew that thetime when she could speak was passing, butwe felt that it was useless to say anything.

Suddenly she sat up, and as she opened hereyes said sweetly, “Would none of you like acup of tea? You must all be so tired!”

We could only make her happy, and so ac-queisced. She bustled off to get tea. Whenshe had gone Van Helsing said, “You see, myfriends. He is close to land. He has left hisearth chest. But he has yet to get on shore. Inthe night he may lie hidden somewhere, butif he be not carried on shore, or if the ship donot touch it, he cannot achieve the land. Insuch case he can, if it be in the night, changehis form and jump or fly on shore, then, un-less he be carried he cannot escape. And ifhe be carried, then the customs men may dis-cover what the box contain. Thus, in fine,if he escape not on shore tonight, or beforedawn, there will be the whole day lost to him.We may then arrive in time. For if he escape

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not at night we shall come on him in daytime,boxed up and at our mercy. For he dare notbe his true self, awake and visible, lest he bediscovered.”There was no more to be said, so we waitedin patience until the dawn, at which time wemight learn more from Mrs. Harker.Early this morning we listened, with breath-less anxiety, for her response in her trance.The hypnotic stage was even longer in com-ing than before, and when it came the timeremaining until full sunrise was so short thatwe began to despair. Van Helsing seemed tothrow his whole soul into the effort. At last,in obedience to his will she made reply.“All is dark. I hear lapping water, level withme, and some creaking as of wood on wood.”She paused, and the red sun shot up. Wemust wait till tonight.And so it is that we are travelling towardsGalatz in an agony of expectation. We aredue to arrive between two and three in themorning. But already, at Bucharest, we are

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three hours late, so we cannot possibly get intill well after sunup. Thus we shall have twomore hypnotic messages from Mrs. Harker!Either or both may possibly throw more lighton what is happening.

Later.–Sunset has come and gone. Fortu-nately it came at a time when there wasno distraction. For had it occurred whilstwe were at a station, we might not havesecured the necessary calm and isolation.Mrs. Harker yielded to the hypnotic influ-ence even less readily than this morning. I amin fear that her power of reading the Count’ssensations may die away, just when we wantit most. It seems to me that her imaginationis beginning to work. Whilst she has beenin the trance hitherto she has confined her-self to the simplest of facts. If this goes onit may ultimately mislead us. If I thoughtthat the Count’s power over her would dieaway equally with her power of knowledgeit would be a happy thought. But I am afraidthat it may not be so.

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When she did speak, her words were enig-matical, “Something is going out. I can feel itpass me like a cold wind. I can hear, far off,confused sounds, as of men talking in strangetongues, fierce falling water, and the howlingof wolves.” She stopped and a shudder ranthrough her, increasing in intensity for a fewseconds, till at the end, she shook as thoughin a palsy. She said no more, even in an-swer to the Professor’s imperative question-ing. When she woke from the trance, she wascold, and exhausted, and languid, but hermind was all alert. She could not rememberanything, but asked what she had said. Whenshe was told, she pondered over it deeply fora long time and in silence.

30 October, 7 A.M.–We are near Galatz now,and I may not have time to write later. Sun-rise this morning was anxiously looked for byus all. Knowing of the increasing difficultyof procuring the hypnotic trance, Van Hels-ing began his passes earlier than usual. Theyproduced no effect, however, until the regu-lar time, when she yielded with a still greater

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difficulty, only a minute before the sun rose.The Professor lost no time in his questioning.

Her answer came with equal quickness, “Allis dark. I hear water swirling by, level withmy ears, and the creaking of wood on wood.Cattle low far off. There is another sound,a queer one like...” She stopped and grewwhite, and whiter still.

“Go on, go on! Speak, I command you!”said Van Helsing in an agonized voice. Atthe same time there was despair in his eyes,for the risen sun was reddening even Mrs.Harker’s pale face. She opened her eyes, andwe all started as she said, sweetly and seem-ingly with the utmost unconcern.

“Oh, Professor, why ask me to do what youknow I can’t? I don’t remember anything.”Then, seeing the look of amazement on ourfaces, she said, turning from one to the otherwith a troubled look, “What have I said?What have I done? I know nothing, only thatI was lying here, half asleep, and heard yousay ‘go on! speak, I command you!’ It seemed

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so funny to hear you order me about, as if Iwere a bad child!”“Oh, Madam Mina,” he said, sadly, “it isproof, if proof be needed, of how I love andhonour you, when a word for your good,spoken more earnest than ever, can seem sostrange because it is to order her whom I amproud to obey!”The whistles are sounding. We are nearingGalatz. We are on fire with anxiety and ea-gerness.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

30 October.–Mr. Morris took me to the hotelwhere our rooms had been ordered by tele-graph, he being the one who could best bespared, since he does not speak any foreignlanguage. The forces were distributed muchas they had been at Varna, except that LordGodalming went to the Vice Consul, as hisrank might serve as an immediate guaranteeof some sort to the official, we being in ex-treme hurry. Jonathan and the two doctors

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went to the shipping agent to learn particu-lars of the arrival of the Czarina Catherine.

Later.–Lord Godalming has returned. TheConsul is away, and the Vice Consul sick. Sothe routine work has been attended to by aclerk. He was very obliging, and offered todo anything in his power.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

30 October.–At nine o’clock Dr. Van Helsing,Dr. Seward, and I called on Messrs. Macken-zie’ Steinkoff, the agents of the London firmof Hapgood. They had received a wire fromLondon, in answer to Lord Godalming’s tele-graphed request, asking them to show us anycivility in their power. They were more thankind and courteous, and took us at once onboard the Czarina Catherine, which lay at an-chor out in the river harbor. There we saw theCaptain, Donelson by name, who told us ofhis voyage. He said that in all his life he hadnever had so favourable a run.

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“Man!” he said, “but it made us afeard, forwe expect it that we should have to pay for itwi’ some rare piece o’ ill luck, so as to keepup the average. It’s no canny to run frae Lon-don to the Black Sea wi’ a wind ahint ye, asthough the Deil himself were blawin’ on yersail for his ain purpose. An’ a’ the time wecould no speer a thing. Gin we were nigha ship, or a port, or a headland, a fog fellon us and travelled wi’ us, till when afterit had lifted and we looked out, the deil athing could we see. We ran by Gibraltar wi’oot bein’ able to signal. An’ til we came tothe Dardanelles and had to wait to get ourpermit to pass, we never were within hail o’aught. At first I inclined to slack off sail andbeat about till the fog was lifted. But whiles,I thocht that if the Deil was minded to getus into the Black Sea quick, he was like todo it whether we would or no. If we hada quick voyage it would be no to our mis-credit wi’ the owners, or no hurt to our traf-fic, an’ the Old Mon who had served his ainpurpose wad be decently grateful to us for no

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hinderin’ him.”

This mixture of simplicity and cunning,of superstition and commercial reasoning,aroused Van Helsing, who said, “Minefriend, that Devil is more clever than he isthought by some, and he know when he meethis match!”

The skipper was not displeased with thecompliment, and went on, “When we gotpast the Bosphorus the men began to grum-ble. Some o’ them, the Roumanians, cameand asked me to heave overboard a big boxwhich had been put on board by a queerlookin’ old man just before we had startedfrae London. I had seen them speer at the fel-low, and put out their twa fingers when theysaw him, to guard them against the evil eye.Man! but the supersteetion of foreigners ispairfectly rideeculous! I sent them aboot theirbusiness pretty quick, but as just after a fogclosed in on us I felt a wee bit as they didanent something, though I wouldn’t say itwas again the big box. Well, on we went, and

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as the fog didn’t let up for five days I joost letthe wind carry us, for if the Deil wanted to getsomewheres, well, he would fetch it up a’reet.An’ if he didn’t, well, we’d keep a sharp look-out anyhow. Sure eneuch, we had a fair wayand deep water all the time. And two daysago, when the mornin’ sun came through thefog, we found ourselves just in the river op-posite Galatz. The Roumanians were wild,and wanted me right or wrong to take out thebox and fling it in the river. I had to argy wi’them aboot it wi’ a handspike. An’ when thelast o’ them rose off the deck wi’ his head inhis hand, I had convinced them that, evil eyeor no evil eye, the property and the trust ofmy owners were better in my hands than inthe river Danube. They had, mind ye, takenthe box on the deck ready to fling in, and as itwas marked Galatz via Varna, I thocht I’d letit lie till we discharged in the port an’ get rido’t althegither. We didn’t do much clearin’that day, an’ had to remain the nicht at an-chor. But in the mornin’, braw an’ airly, anhour before sunup, a man came aboard wi’

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an order, written to him from England, to re-ceive a box marked for one Count Dracula.Sure eneuch the matter was one ready to hishand. He had his papers a’ reet, an’ glad Iwas to be rid o’ the dam’ thing, for I was be-ginnin’ masel’ to feel uneasy at it. If the Deildid have any luggage aboord the ship, I’mthinkin’ it was nane ither than that same!”

“What was the name of the man who tookit?” asked Dr. Van Helsing with restrainedeagerness.

“I’ll be tellin’ ye quick!” he answered,and stepping down to his cabin, produceda receipt signed “Immanuel Hildesheim.”Burgen-strasse 16 was the address. We foundout that this was all the Captain knew, sowith thanks we came away.

We found Hildesheim in his office, a Hebrewof rather the Adelphi Theatre type, with anose like a sheep, and a fez. His argumentswere pointed with specie, we doing the punc-tuation, and with a little bargaining he told uswhat he knew. This turned out to be simple

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but important. He had received a letter fromMr. de Ville of London, telling him to receive,if possible before sunrise so as to avoid cus-toms, a box which would arrive at Galatz inthe Czarina Catherine. This he was to give incharge to a certain Petrof Skinsky, who dealtwith the Slovaks who traded down the riverto the port. He had been paid for his work byan English bank note, which had been dulycashed for gold at the Danube InternationalBank. When Skinsky had come to him, hehad taken him to the ship and handed overthe box, so as to save porterage. That was allhe knew.

We then sought for Skinsky, but were unableto find him. One of his neighbors, who didnot seem to bear him any affection, said thathe had gone away two days before, no oneknew whither. This was corroborated by hislandlord, who had received by messenger thekey of the house together with the rent due,in English money. This had been between tenand eleven o’clock last night. We were at astandstill again.

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Whilst we were talking one came runningand breathlessly gasped out that the body ofSkinsky had been found inside the wall of thechurchyard of St. Peter, and that the throathad been torn open as if by some wild ani-mal. Those we had been speaking with ranoff to see the horror, the women crying out.“This is the work of a Slovak!” We hurriedaway lest we should have been in some waydrawn into the affair, and so detained.As we came home we could arrive at no def-inite conclusion. We were all convinced thatthe box was on its way, by water, to some-where, but where that might be we wouldhave to discover. With heavy hearts we camehome to the hotel to Mina.When we met together, the first thing was toconsult as to taking Mina again into our con-fidence. Things are getting desperate, and itis at least a chance, though a hazardous one.As a preliminary step, I was released from mypromise to her.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

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30 October, evening.–They were so tired andworn out and dispirited that there was noth-ing to be done till they had some rest, so Iasked them all to lie down for half an hourwhilst I should enter everything up to themoment. I feel so grateful to the man whoinvented the “Traveller’s” typewriter, and toMr. Morris for getting this one for me. Ishould have felt quite astray doing the workif I had to write with a pen...

It is all done. Poor dear, dear Jonathan, whathe must have suffered, what he must be suf-fering now. He lies on the sofa hardly seem-ing to breathe, and his whole body appearsin collapse. His brows are knit. His face isdrawn with pain. Poor fellow, maybe he isthinking, and I can see his face all wrinkledup with the concentration of his thoughts.Oh! if I could only help at all. I shall do whatI can.

I have asked Dr. Van Helsing, and he has gotme all the papers that I have not yet seen.Whilst they are resting, I shall go over all

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carefully, and perhaps I may arrive at someconclusion. I shall try to follow the Profes-sor’s example, and think without prejudiceon the facts before me...I do believe that under God’s providence Ihave made a discovery. I shall get the mapsand look over them.I am more than ever sure that I am right. Mynew conclusion is ready, so I shall get ourparty together and read it. They can judgeit. It is well to be accurate, and every minuteis precious.

MINA HARKER’S MEMORANDUM(ENTERED IN HER JOURNAL)

Ground of inquiry.–Count Dracula’s problemis to get back to his own place.(a) He must be brought back by some one.This is evident; for had he power to movehimself as he wished he could go either asman, or wolf, or bat, or in some other way.He evidently fears discovery or interference,

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in the state of helplessness in which he mustbe, confined as he is between dawn and sun-set in his wooden box.

(b) How is he to be taken?–Here a process ofexclusions may help us. By road, by rail, bywater?

1. By Road.–There are endless difficulties, es-pecially in leaving the city.

(x) There are people. And people are curious,and investigate. A hint, a surmise, a doubt asto what might be in the box, would destroyhim.

(y) There are, or there may be, customs andoctroi officers to pass.

(z) His pursuers might follow. This is hishighest fear. And in order to prevent his be-ing betrayed he has repelled, so far as he can,even his victim, me!

2. By Rail.–There is no one in charge of thebox. It would have to take its chance of be-ing delayed, and delay would be fatal, withenemies on the track. True, he might escape

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at night. But what would he be, if left in astrange place with no refuge that he could flyto? This is not what he intends, and he doesnot mean to risk it.3. By Water.–Here is the safest way, in one re-spect, but with most danger in another. Onthe water he is powerless except at night.Even then he can only summon fog andstorm and snow and his wolves. But werehe wrecked, the living water would engulfhim, helpless, and he would indeed be lost.He could have the vessel drive to land, but ifit were unfriendly land, wherein he was notfree to move, his position would still be des-perate.We know from the record that he was on thewater, so what we have to do is to ascertainwhat water.The first thing is to realize exactly what hehas done as yet. We may, then, get a light onwhat his task is to be.Firstly.–We must differentiate between whathe did in London as part of his general plan

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of action, when he was pressed for momentsand had to arrange as best he could.

Secondly.–We must see, as well as we can sur-mise it from the facts we know of, what hehas done here.

As to the first, he evidently intended to arriveat Galatz, and sent invoice to Varna to deceiveus lest we should ascertain his means of exitfrom England. His immediate and sole pur-pose then was to escape. The proof of this,is the letter of instructions sent to ImmanuelHildesheim to clear and take away the boxbefore sunrise. There is also the instructionto Petrof Skinsky. These we must only guessat, but there must have been some letter ormessage, since Skinsky came to Hildesheim.

That, so far, his plans were successful weknow. The Czarina Catherine made a phe-nomenally quick journey. So much so thatCaptain Donelson’s suspicions were aroused.But his superstition united with his canninessplayed the Count’s game for him, and he ranwith his favouring wind through fogs and all

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till he brought up blindfold at Galatz. Thatthe Count’s arrangements were well made,has been proved. Hildesheim cleared the box,took it off, and gave it to Skinsky. Skinskytook it, and here we lose the trail. We onlyknow that the box is somewhere on the water,moving along. The customs and the octroi, ifthere be any, have been avoided.

Now we come to what the Count must havedone after his arrival, on land, at Galatz.

The box was given to Skinsky before sunrise.At sunrise the Count could appear in his ownform. Here, we ask why Skinsky was chosenat all to aid in the work? In my husband’sdiary, Skinsky is mentioned as dealing withthe Slovaks who trade down the river to theport. And the man’s remark, that the murderwas the work of a Slovak, showed the generalfeeling against his class. The Count wantedisolation.

My surmise is this, that in London the Countdecided to get back to his castle by water, asthe most safe and secret way. He was brought

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from the castle by Szgany, and probably theydelivered their cargo to Slovaks who took theboxes to Varna, for there they were shippedto London. Thus the Count had knowledgeof the persons who could arrange this ser-vice. When the box was on land, before sun-rise or after sunset, he came out from his box,met Skinsky and instructed him what to do asto arranging the carriage of the box up someriver. When this was done, and he knew thatall was in train, he blotted out his traces, ashe thought, by murdering his agent.

I have examined the map and find that theriver most suitable for the Slovaks to have as-cended is either the Pruth or the Sereth. I readin the typescript that in my trance I heardcows low and water swirling level with myears and the creaking of wood. The Countin his box, then, was on a river in an openboat, propelled probably either by oars orpoles, for the banks are near and it is work-ing against stream. There would be no suchif floating down stream.

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Of course it may not be either the Sereth orthe Pruth, but we may possibly investigatefurther. Now of these two, the Pruth is themore easily navigated, but the Sereth is, atFundu, joined by the Bistritza which runs upround the Borgo Pass. The loop it makes ismanifestly as close to Dracula’s castle as canbe got by water.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL–CONTINUED

When I had done reading, Jonathan took mein his arms and kissed me. The others keptshaking me by both hands, and Dr. Van Hels-ing said, “Our dear Madam Mina is oncemore our teacher. Her eyes have been wherewe were blinded. Now we are on the trackonce again, and this time we may succeed.Our enemy is at his most helpless. And ifwe can come on him by day, on the water,our task will be over. He has a start, but heis powerless to hasten, as he may not leavethis box lest those who carry him may sus-pect. For them to suspect would be to prompt

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them to throw him in the stream where heperish. This he knows, and will not. Nowmen, 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 bychance he land,” said Mr. Morris.“Good!” said the Professor, “both good. Butneither must go alone. There must be forceto overcome force if need be. The Slovak isstrong and rough, and he carries rude arms.”All the men smiled, for amongst them theycarried a small arsenal.Said Mr. Morris, “I have brought someWinchesters. They are pretty handy in acrowd, and there may be wolves. The Count,if you remember, took some other precau-tions. He made some requisitions on othersthat Mrs. Harker could not quite hear or un-derstand. We must be ready at all points.”Dr. Seward said, “I think I had better go withQuincey. We have been accustomed to hunt

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together, and we two, well armed, will be amatch for whatever may come along. Youmust not be alone, Art. It may be neces-sary 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 nochances, this time. We shall not rest until theCount’s head and body have been separated,and we are sure that he cannot reincarnate.”

He looked at Jonathan as he spoke, andJonathan looked at me. I could see that thepoor dear was torn about in his mind. Ofcourse he wanted to be with me. But then theboat service would, most likely, be the onewhich would destroy the... the... Vampire.(Why did I hesitate to write the word?)

He was silent awhile, and during his silenceDr. Van Helsing spoke, “Friend Jonathan, thisis to you for twice reasons. First, because youare young and brave and can fight, and all en-ergies may be needed at the last. And againthat it is your right to destroy him. That,which has wrought such woe to you and

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yours. Be not afraid for Madam Mina. Shewill be my care, if I may. I am old. My legsare not so quick to run as once. And I am notused to ride so long or to pursue as need be,or to fight with lethal weapons. But I can beof other service. I can fight in other way. AndI 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 friendJonathan go in your so swift little steamboatup the river, and whilst John and Quinceyguard the bank where perchance he might belanded, I will take Madam Mina right intothe heart of the enemy’s country. Whilst theold fox is tied in his box, floating on the run-ning stream whence he cannot escape to land,where he dares not raise the lid of his cof-fin box lest his Slovak carriers should in fearleave him to perish, we shall go in the trackwhere Jonathan went, from Bistritz over theBorgo, and find our way to the Castle of Drac-ula. Here, Madam Mina’s hypnotic powerwill surely help, and we shall find our way,all dark and unknown otherwise, after the

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first sunrise when we are near that fatefulplace. There is much to be done, and otherplaces to be made sanctify, so that that nest ofvipers be obliterated.”

Here Jonathan interrupted him hotly, “Doyou mean to say, Professor Van Helsing, thatyou would bring Mina, in her sad case andtainted as she is with that devil’s illness, rightinto the jaws of his deathtrap? Not for theworld! Not for Heaven or Hell!”

He became almost speechless for a minute,and then went on, “Do you know what theplace is? Have you seen that awful den ofhellish infamy, with the very moonlight alivewith grisly shapes, and every speck of dustthat whirls in the wind a devouring monsterin embryo? Have you felt the Vampire’s lipsupon your throat?”

Here he turned to me, and as his eyes lit onmy forehead he threw up his arms with a cry,“Oh, my God, what have we done to havethis terror upon us?” and he sank down onthe sofa in a collapse of misery.

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The Professor’s voice, as he spoke in clear,sweet tones, which seemed to vibrate in theair, calmed us all.

“Oh, my friend, it is because I would saveMadam Mina from that awful place that Iwould go. God forbid that I should take herinto that place. There is work, wild work, tobe done before that place can be purify. Re-member that we are in terrible straits. If theCount escape us this time, and he is strongand subtle and cunning, he may choose tosleep him for a century, and then in time ourdear one,” he took my hand, “would cometo him to keep him company, and would beas those others that you, Jonathan, saw. Youhave told us of their gloating lips. You heardtheir ribald laugh as they clutched the mov-ing bag that the Count threw to them. Youshudder, and well may it be. Forgive me thatI make you so much pain, but it is necessary.My friend, is it not a dire need for that whichI am giving, possibly my life? If it were thatany one went into that place to stay, it is I whowould have to go to keep them company.”

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“Do as you will,” said Jonathan, with a sobthat shook him all over, “we are in the handsof God!”

Later.–Oh, it did me good to see the way thatthese brave men worked. How can womenhelp loving men when they are so earnest,and so true, and so brave! And, too, it mademe think of the wonderful power of money!What can it not do when basely used. I feltso thankful that Lord Godalming is rich, andboth he and Mr. Morris, who also has plentyof money, are willing to spend it so freely. Forif they did not, our little expedition could notstart, either so promptly or so well equipped,as it will within another hour. It is not threehours since it was arranged what part each ofus was to do. And now Lord Godalming andJonathan have a lovely steam launch, withsteam up ready to start at a moment’s notice.Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris have half a dozengood horses, well appointed. We have all themaps and appliances of various kinds thatcan be had. Professor Van Helsing and I areto leave by the 11:40 train tonight for Veresti,

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where we are to get a carriage to drive to theBorgo Pass. We are bringing a good deal ofready money, as we are to buy a carriage andhorses. We shall drive ourselves, for we haveno one whom we can trust in the matter. TheProfessor knows something of a great manylanguages, so we shall get on all right. Wehave all got arms, even for me a large bore re-volver. Jonathan would not be happy unlessI was armed like the rest. Alas! I cannot carryone arm that the rest do, the scar on my fore-head forbids that. Dear Dr. Van Helsing com-forts me by telling me that I am fully armed asthere may be wolves. The weather is gettingcolder every hour, and there are snow flurrieswhich come and go as warnings.Later.–It took all my courage to say goodbyeto my darling. We may never meet again.Courage, Mina! The Professor is looking atyou keenly. His look is a warning. Theremust be no tears now, unless it may be thatGod will let them fall in gladness.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

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30 October, night.–I am writing this in thelight from the furnace door of the steamlaunch. Lord Godalming is firing up. He is anexperienced hand at the work, as he has hadfor years a launch of his own on the Thames,and another on the Norfolk Broads. Regard-ing our plans, we finally decided that Mina’sguess was correct, and that if any waterwaywas chosen for the Count’s escape back to hisCastle, the Sereth and then the Bistritza at itsjunction, would be the one. We took it, thatsomewhere about the 47th degree, north lat-itude, would be the place chosen for cross-ing the country between the river and theCarpathians. We have no fear in runningat good speed up the river at night. Thereis plenty of water, and the banks are wideenough apart to make steaming, even in thedark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells meto sleep for a while, as it is enough for thepresent for one to be on watch. But I can-not sleep, how can I with the terrible dangerhanging over my darling, and her going outinto that awful place...

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My only comfort is that we are in the handsof God. Only for that faith it would be eas-ier to die than to live, and so be quit of allthe trouble. Mr. Morris and Dr. Seward wereoff on their long ride before we started. Theyare to keep up the right bank, far enough offto get on higher lands where they can see agood stretch of river and avoid the followingof 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. Whenthey dismiss the men, which shall be shortly,they shall themselves look after the horses. Itmay be necessary for us to join forces. If sothey can mount our whole party. One of thesaddles has a moveable horn, and can be eas-ily adapted for Mina, if required.

It is a wild adventure we are on. Here, as weare rushing along through the darkness, withthe cold from the river seeming to rise up andstrike us, with all the mysterious voices of thenight around us, it all comes home. We seemto be drifting into unknown places and un-known ways. Into a whole world of dark and

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dreadful things. Godalming is shutting thefurnace door...

31 October.–Still hurrying along. The day hascome, and Godalming is sleeping. I am onwatch. The morning is bitterly cold, the fur-nace heat is grateful, though we have heavyfur coats. As yet we have passed only a fewopen boats, but none of them had on boardany box or package of anything like the sizeof the one we seek. The men were scared ev-ery time we turned our electric lamp on them,and fell on their knees and prayed.

1 November, evening.–No news all day. Wehave found nothing of the kind we seek. Wehave now passed into the Bistritza, and if weare wrong in our surmise our chance is gone.We have overhauled every boat, big and lit-tle. Early this morning, one crew took us for aGovernment boat, and treated us accordingly.We saw in this a way of smoothing matters,so at Fundu, where the Bistritza runs intothe Sereth, we got a Roumanian flag whichwe now fly conspicuously. With every boat

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which we have overhauled since then thistrick has succeeded. We have had every def-erence shown to us, and not once any objec-tion to whatever we chose to ask or do. Someof the Slovaks tell us that a big boat passedthem, going at more than usual speed as shehad a double crew on board. This was beforethey came to Fundu, so they could not tellus whether the boat turned into the Bistritzaor continued on up the Sereth. At Fundu wecould not hear of any such boat, so she musthave passed there in the night. I am feelingvery sleepy. The cold is perhaps beginningto tell upon me, and nature must have restsome time. Godalming insists that he shallkeep the first watch. God bless him for all hisgoodness to poor dear Mina and me.

2 November, morning.–It is broad daylight.That good fellow would not wake me. Hesays it would have been a sin to, for I sleptpeacefully and was forgetting my trouble. Itseems brutally selfish to me to have slept solong, and let him watch all night, but he wasquite right. I am a new man this morning.

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And, as I sit here and watch him sleeping, Ican do all that is necessary both as to mind-ing the engine, steering, and keeping watch.I can feel that my strength and energy arecoming back to me. I wonder where Minais now, and Van Helsing. They should havegot to Veresti about noon on Wednesday. Itwould take them some time to get the car-riage and horses. So if they had started andtravelled hard, they would be about now atthe Borgo Pass. God guide and help them! Iam afraid to think what may happen. If wecould only go faster. But we cannot. The en-gines are throbbing and doing their utmost. Iwonder how Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris aregetting on. There seem to be endless streamsrunning down the mountains into this river,but as none of them are very large, at present,at all events, though they are doubtless terri-ble in winter and when the snow melts, thehorsemen may not have met much obstruc-tion. I hope that before we get to Strasba wemay see them. For if by that time we havenot overtaken the Count, it may be necessary

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to take counsel together what to do next.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

2 November.–Three days on the road. Nonews, and no time to write it if there hadbeen, for every moment is precious. We havehad only the rest needful for the horses. Butwe are both bearing it wonderfully. Those ad-venturous days of ours are turning up useful.We must push on. We shall never feel happytill we get the launch in sight again.3 November.–We heard at Fundu that thelaunch had gone up the Bistritza. I wish itwasn’t so cold. There are signs of snow com-ing. And if it falls heavy it will stop us. Insuch case we must get a sledge and go on,Russian fashion.4 November.–Today we heard of the launchhaving been detained by an accident whentrying to force a way up the rapids. The Slo-vak boats get up all right, by aid of a ropeand steering with knowledge. Some went up

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only a few hours before. Godalming is an am-ateur fitter himself, and evidently it was hewho put the launch in trim again.

Finally, they got up the rapids all right, withlocal help, and are off on the chase afresh.I fear that the boat is not any better for theaccident, the peasantry tell us that after shegot upon smooth water again, she kept stop-ping every now and again so long as she wasin 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. TheProfessor tells me that this morning at dawnhe could hardly hypnotize me at all, and thatall I could say was, “dark and quiet.” He isoff now buying a carriage and horses. Hesays that he will later on try to buy additionalhorses, so that we may be able to changethem on the way. We have something morethan 70 miles before us. The country is lovely,

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and most interesting. If only we were underdifferent conditions, how delightful it wouldbe to see it all. If Jonathan and I were drivingthrough it alone what a pleasure it would be.To stop and see people, and learn somethingof their life, and to fill our minds and mem-ories with all the colour and picturesquenessof the whole wild, beautiful country and thequaint people! But, alas!

Later.–Dr. Van Helsing has returned. He hasgot the carriage and horses. We are to havesome dinner, and to start in an hour. Thelandlady is putting us up a huge basket ofprovisions. It seems enough for a company ofsoldiers. The Professor encourages her, andwhispers to me that it may be a week beforewe can get any food again. He has been shop-ping too, and has sent home such a wonder-ful lot of fur coats and wraps, and all sorts ofwarm things. There will not be any chance ofour being cold.

We shall soon be off. I am afraid to think whatmay happen to us. We are truly in the hands

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of God. He alone knows what may be, andI pray Him, with all the strength of my sadand humble soul, that He will watch over mybeloved husband. That whatever may hap-pen, Jonathan may know that I loved him andhonoured him more than I can say, and thatmy latest and truest thought will be alwaysfor him.

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MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

1 November.–All day long we have travelled,and at a good speed. The horses seem toknow that they are being kindly treated, forthey go willingly their full stage at best speed.We have now had so many changes and findthe same thing so constantly that we are en-couraged to think that the journey will bean easy one. Dr. Van Helsing is laconic, hetells the farmers that he is hurrying to Bistritz,and pays them well to make the exchange of

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horses. We get hot soup, or coffee, or tea,and off we go. It is a lovely country. Fullof beauties of all imaginable kinds, and thepeople are brave, and strong, and simple, andseem full of nice qualities. They are very,very superstitious. In the first house wherewe stopped, when the woman who servedus saw the scar on my forehead, she crossedherself and put out two fingers towards me,to keep off the evil eye. I believe they wentto the trouble of putting an extra amount ofgarlic into our food, and I can’t abide garlic.Ever since then I have taken care not to takeoff my hat or veil, and so have escaped theirsuspicions. We are travelling fast, and as wehave no driver with us to carry tales, we goahead of scandal. But I daresay that fear ofthe evil eye will follow hard behind us all theway. The Professor seems tireless. All dayhe would not take any rest, though he mademe sleep for a long spell. At sunset time hehypnotized me, and he says I answered asusual, “darkness, lapping water and creakingwood.” So our enemy is still on the river. I

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am afraid to think of Jonathan, but somehowI have now no fear for him, or for myself. Iwrite this whilst we wait in a farmhouse forthe horses to be ready. Dr. Van Helsing issleeping. Poor dear, he looks very tired andold and grey, but his mouth is set as firmlyas a conqueror’s. Even in his sleep he is in-tense with resolution. When we have wellstarted 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 ofall his strength will be needed... All is ready.We are off shortly.

2 November, morning.–I was successful, andwe took turns driving all night. Now theday is on us, bright though cold. There is astrange heaviness in the air. I say heavinessfor want of a better word. I mean that it op-presses us both. It is very cold, and only ourwarm furs keep us comfortable. At dawn VanHelsing hypnotized me. He says I answered“darkness, creaking wood and roaring wa-ter,” so the river is changing as they ascend.I do hope that my darling will not run any

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chance of danger, more than need be, but weare in God’s hands.

2 November, night.–All day long driving.The country gets wilder as we go, and thegreat spurs of the Carpathians, which at Ver-esti seemed so far from us and so low on thehorizon, now seem to gather round us andtower in front. We both seem in good spirits.I think we make an effort each to cheer theother, in the doing so we cheer ourselves. Dr.Van Helsing says that by morning we shallreach the Borgo Pass. The houses are veryfew here now, and the Professor says that thelast horse we got will have to go on with us,as we may not be able to change. He gottwo in addition to the two we changed, sothat now we have a rude four-in-hand. Thedear horses are patient and good, and theygive us no trouble. We are not worried withother travellers, and so even I can drive. Weshall get to the Pass in daylight. We do notwant to arrive before. So we take it easy,and have each a long rest in turn. Oh, whatwill tomorrow bring to us? We go to seek

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the place where my poor darling suffered somuch. God grant that we may be guidedaright, and that He will deign to watch overmy husband and those dear to us both, andwho are in such deadly peril. As for me, I amnot worthy in His sight. Alas! I am unclean toHis eyes, and shall be until He may deign tolet me stand forth in His sight as one of thosewho have not incurred His wrath.

MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING

4 November.–This to my old and true friendJohn Seward, M.D., of Purfleet, London, incase I may not see him. It may explain. Itis morning, and I write by a fire which allthe night I have kept alive, Madam Mina aid-ing me. It is cold, cold. So cold that thegrey heavy sky is full of snow, which whenit falls will settle for all winter as the groundis hardening to receive it. It seems to have af-fected Madam Mina. She has been so heavyof head all day that she was not like herself.She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps! She who is

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usual so alert, have done literally nothing allthe day. She even have lost her appetite. Shemake no entry into her little diary, she whowrite so faithful at every pause. Somethingwhisper to me that all is not well. However,tonight she is more vif. Her long sleep all dayhave refresh and restore her, for now she isall sweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try tohypnotize her, but alas! with no effect. Thepower has grown less and less with each day,and tonight it fail me altogether. Well, God’swill be done, whatever it may be, and whith-ersoever it may lead!

Now to the historical, for as Madam Minawrite not in her stenography, I must, in mycumbrous old fashion, that so each day of usmay not go unrecorded.

We got to the Borgo Pass just after sunriseyesterday morning. When I saw the signsof the dawn I got ready for the hypnotism.We stopped our carriage, and got down sothat there might be no disturbance. I madea couch with furs, and Madam Mina, lying

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down, yield herself as usual, but more slowand more short time than ever, to the hyp-notic sleep. As before, came the answer,“darkness and the swirling of water.” Thenshe woke, bright and radiant and we go onour way and soon reach the Pass. At this timeand place, she become all on fire with zeal.Some new guiding power be in her mani-fested, for she point to a road and say, “Thisis the way.”“How know you it?” I ask.“Of course I know it,” she answer, and with apause, add, “Have not my Jonathan travelledit and wrote of his travel?”At first I think somewhat strange, but soonI see that there be only one such byroad.It is used but little, and very different fromthe coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz,which is more wide and hard, and more ofuse.So we came down this road. When we meetother ways, not always were we sure thatthey were roads at all, for they be neglect and

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light snow have fallen, the horses know andthey only. I give rein to them, and they go onso patient. By and by we find all the thingswhich Jonathan have note in that wonderfuldiary of him. Then we go on for long, longhours and hours. At the first, I tell MadamMina to sleep. She try, and she succeed. Shesleep all the time, till at the last, I feel my-self to suspicious grow, and attempt to wakeher. But she sleep on, and I may not wake herthough I try. I do not wish to try too hard lestI harm her. For I know that she have suffermuch, and sleep at times be all-in-all to her. Ithink I drowse myself, for all of sudden I feelguilt, as though I have done something. I findmyself bolt up, with the reins in my hand,and the good horses go along jog, jog, justas ever. I look down and find Madam Minastill asleep. It is now not far off sunset time,and over the snow the light of the sun flow inbig yellow flood, so that we throw great longshadow on where the mountain rise so steep.For we are going up, and up, and all is oh sowild and rocky, as though it were the end of

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the world.

Then I arouse Madam Mina. This time shewake with not much trouble, and then I try toput 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, soI look round, and find that the sun have gonedown. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn andlook at her. She is now quite awake, and lookso well as I never saw her since that night atCarfax when we first enter the Count’s house.I am amaze, and not at ease then. But she isso bright and tender and thoughtful for methat I forget all fear. I light a fire, for we havebrought supply of wood with us, and she pre-pare food while I undo the horses and setthem, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then whenI return to the fire she have my supper ready.I go to help her, but she smile, and tell me thatshe have eat already. That she was so hungrythat she would not wait. I like it not, and Ihave grave doubts. But I fear to affright her,and so I am silent of it. She help me and I eatalone, and then we wrap in fur and lie beside

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the fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch.But presently I forget all of watching. Andwhen I sudden remember that I watch, I findher lying quiet, but awake, and looking at mewith so bright eyes. Once, twice more thesame occur, and I get much sleep till beforemorning. 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 tolift her up, and place her sleeping in the car-riage when I have harnessed the horses andmade all ready. Madam still sleep, and shelook in her sleep more healthy and more red-der than before. And I like it not. And I amafraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things,even to think but I must go on my way. Thestake we play for is life and death, or morethan these, and we must not flinch.

5 November, morning.–Let me be accurate ineverything, for though you and I have seensome strange things together, you may at thefirst think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That

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the many horrors and the so long strain onnerves has at the last turn my brain.

All yesterday we travel, always getting closerto the mountains, and moving into a moreand more wild and desert land. There aregreat, frowning precipices and much fallingwater, and Nature seem to have held some-time her carnival. Madam Mina still sleepand sleep. And though I did have hungerand appeased it, I could not waken her, evenfor food. I began to fear that the fatal spellof the place was upon her, tainted as she iswith that Vampire baptism. “Well,” said I tomyself, “if it be that she sleep all the day, itshall also be that I do not sleep at night.” Aswe travel on the rough road, for a road of anancient and imperfect kind there was, I helddown my head and slept.

Again I waked with a sense of guilt and oftime passed, and found Madam Mina stillsleeping, and the sun low down. But all wasindeed changed. The frowning mountainsseemed further away, and we were near the

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top of a steep rising hill, on summit of whichwas such a castle as Jonathan tell of in his di-ary. At once I exulted and feared. For now,for good or ill, the end was near.

I woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hyp-notize her, but alas! unavailing till too late.Then, ere the great dark came upon us, foreven after down sun the heavens reflected thegone sun on the snow, and all was for a timein a great twilight. I took out the horses andfed them in what shelter I could. Then I makea fire, and near it I make Madam Mina, nowawake and more charming than ever, sit com-fortable amid her rugs. I got ready food, butshe would not eat, simply saying that she hadnot hunger. I did not press her, knowing herunavailingness. But I myself eat, for I mustneeds now be strong for all. Then, with thefear on me of what might be, I drew a ringso big for her comfort, round where MadamMina sat. And over the ring I passed some ofthe wafer, and I broke it fine so that all waswell guarded. She sat still all the time, sostill as one dead. And she grew whiter and

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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 thepoor soul shook her from head to feet with atremor that was pain to feel.

I said to her presently, when she had grownmore quiet, “Will you not come over to thefire?” for I wished to make a test of what shecould. She rose obedient, but when she havemade a step she stopped, and stood as onestricken.

“Why not go on?” I asked. She shook herhead, and coming back, sat down in herplace. Then, looking at me with open eyes, asof one waked from sleep, she said simply, “Icannot!” and remained silent. I rejoiced, for Iknew that what she could not, none of thosethat we dreaded could. Though there mightbe danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!

Presently the horses began to scream, andtore at their tethers till I came to them andquieted them. When they did feel my handson them, they whinnied low as in joy, and

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licked at my hands and were quiet for a time.Many times through the night did I come tothem, till it arrive to the cold hour when allnature is at lowest, and every time my com-ing was with quiet of them. In the cold hourthe fire began to die, and I was about step-ping forth to replenish it, for now the snowcame in flying sweeps and with it a chillmist. Even in the dark there was a light ofsome kind, as there ever is over snow, and itseemed as though the snow flurries and thewreaths of mist took shape as of women withtrailing garments. All was in dead, grim si-lence only that the horses whinnied and cow-ered, as if in terror of the worst. I began tofear, horrible fears. But then came to me thesense of safety in that ring wherein I stood. Ibegan too, to think that my imaginings wereof the night, and the gloom, and the unrestthat I have gone through, and all the terri-ble anxiety. It was as though my memoriesof all Jonathan’s horrid experience were be-fooling me. For the snow flakes and the mistbegan to wheel and circle round, till I could

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get as though a shadowy glimpse of thosewomen that would have kissed him. Andthen the horses cowered lower and lower,and moaned in terror as men do in pain. Eventhe madness of fright was not to them, sothat they could break away. I feared for mydear Madam Mina when these weird figuresdrew near and circled round. I looked at her,but she sat calm, and smiled at me. When Iwould have stepped to the fire to replenish it,she caught me and held me back, and whis-pered, like a voice that one hears in a dream,so low it was.

“No! No! Do not go without. Here you aresafe!”

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 un-real, and said, “Fear for me! Why fear forme? None safer in all the world from themthan I am,” and as I wondered at the meaningof her words, a puff of wind made the flameleap up, and I see the red scar on her fore-

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head. Then, alas! I knew. Did I not, I wouldsoon have learned, for the wheeling figuresof mist and snow came closer, but keepingever without the Holy circle. Then they be-gan to materialize till, if God have not takenaway my reason, for I saw it through my eyes.There were before me in actual flesh the samethree women that Jonathan saw in the room,when they would have kissed his throat. Iknew the swaying round forms, the brighthard eyes, the white teeth, the ruddy colour,the voluptuous lips. They smiled ever at poordear Madam Mina. And as their laugh camethrough the silence of the night, they twinedtheir arms and pointed to her, and said inthose so sweet tingling tones that Jonathansaid were of the intolerable sweetness of thewater glasses, “Come, sister. Come to us.Come!”

In fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, andmy heart with gladness leapt like flame. Foroh! the terror in her sweet eyes, the repul-sion, the horror, told a story to my heart thatwas all of hope. God be thanked she was not,

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yet, of them. I seized some of the firewoodwhich was by me, and holding out some ofthe Wafer, advanced on them towards thefire. They drew back before me, and laughedtheir low horrid laugh. I fed the fire, andfeared them not. For I knew that we were safewithin the ring, which she could not leave nomore than they could enter. The horses hadceased to moan, and lay still on the ground.The snow fell on them softly, and they grewwhiter. I knew that there was for the poorbeasts no more of terror.

And so we remained till the red of the dawnbegan to fall through the snow gloom. I wasdesolate and afraid, and full of woe and ter-ror. But when that beautiful sun began toclimb the horizon life was to me again. At thefirst coming of the dawn the horrid figuresmelted in the whirling mist and snow. Thewreaths of transparent gloom moved awaytowards the castle, and were lost.

Instinctively, with the dawn coming, I turnedto Madam Mina, intending to hypnotize her.

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But she lay in a deep and sudden sleep, fromwhich I could not wake her. I tried to hyp-notize through her sleep, but she made no re-sponse, none at all, and the day broke. I fearyet to stir. I have made my fire and have seenthe horses, they are all dead. Today I havemuch to do here, and I keep waiting till thesun is up high. For there may be places whereI must go, where that sunlight, though snowand mist obscure it, will be to me a safety.

I will strengthen me with breakfast, and thenI will do my terrible work. Madam Mina stillsleeps, and God be thanked! She is calm inher sleep...

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

4 November, evening.–The accident to thelaunch has been a terrible thing for us. Onlyfor it we should have overtaken the boat longago, and by now my dear Mina would havebeen free. I fear to think of her, off on thewolds near that horrid place. We have got

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horses, and we follow on the track. I note thiswhilst Godalming is getting ready. We haveour arms. The Szgany must look out if theymean to fight. Oh, if only Morris and Sewardwere with us. We must only hope! If I writeno more Goodby Mina! God bless and keepyou.

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY

5 November.–With the dawn we saw thebody of Szgany before us dashing away fromthe river with their leiter wagon. They sur-rounded it in a cluster, and hurried along asthough beset. The snow is falling lightly andthere is a strange excitement in the air. It maybe our own feelings, but the depression isstrange. Far off I hear the howling of wolves.The snow brings them down from the moun-tains, and there are dangers to all of us, andfrom all sides. The horses are nearly ready,and we are soon off. We ride to death ofsome one. God alone knows who, or where,or what, or when, or how it may be...

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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 withinthe Holy circle, I took my way to the cas-tle. The blacksmith hammer which I took inthe carriage from Veresti was useful, thoughthe doors were all open I broke them off therusty hinges, lest some ill intent or ill chanceshould close them, so that being entered Imight not get out. Jonathan’s bitter experi-ence served me here. By memory of his di-ary I found my way to the old chapel, for Iknew that here my work lay. The air wasoppressive. It seemed as if there was somesulphurous fume, which at times made medizzy. Either there was a roaring in my earsor I heard afar off the howl of wolves. Then Ibethought me of my dear Madam Mina, andI was in terrible plight. The dilemma had mebetween his horns.Her, I had not dare to take into this place, but

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left safe from the Vampire in that Holy circle.And yet even there would be the wolf! I re-solve me that my work lay here, and that as tothe wolves we must submit, if it were God’swill. At any rate it was only death and free-dom beyond. So did I choose for her. Hadit but been for myself the choice had beeneasy, the maw of the wolf were better to restin than the grave of the Vampire! So I makemy choice to go on with my work.

I knew that there were at least three gravesto find, graves that are inhabit. So I search,and search, and I find one of them. She lay inher Vampire sleep, so full of life and volup-tuous beauty that I shudder as though I havecome to do murder. Ah, I doubt not that inthe old time, when such things were, many aman who set forth to do such a task as mine,found at the last his heart fail him, and thenhis nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay,till the mere beauty and the fascination of thewanton Undead have hypnotize him. Andhe remain on and on, till sunset come, andthe Vampire sleep be over. Then the beautiful

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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 onemore victim in the Vampire fold. One moreto swell the grim and grisly ranks of the Un-dead!...

There is some fascination, surely, when I ammoved by the mere presence of such an one,even lying as she lay in a tomb fretted withage and heavy with the dust of centuries,though there be that horrid odour such asthe lairs of the Count have had. Yes, I wasmoved. I, Van Helsing, with all my purposeand with my motive for hate. I was moved toa yearning for delay which seemed to para-lyze my faculties and to clog my very soul. Itmay have been that the need of natural sleep,and the strange oppression of the air werebeginning to overcome me. Certain it wasthat I was lapsing into sleep, the open eyedsleep of one who yields to a sweet fascination,when there came through the snow-stilled aira long, low wail, so full of woe and pity thatit woke me like the sound of a clarion. For it

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was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that Iheard.

Then I braced myself again to my horrid task,and found by wrenching away tomb tops oneother of the sisters, the other dark one. Idared not pause to look on her as I had on hersister, lest once more I should begin to be en-thrall. But I go on searching until, presently, Ifind in a high great tomb as if made to onemuch beloved that other fair sister which,like Jonathan I had seen to gather herself outof the atoms of the mist. She was so fair tolook on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitelyvoluptuous, that the very instinct of man inme, which calls some of my sex to love and toprotect one of hers, made my head whirl withnew emotion. But God be thanked, that soulwail of my dear Madam Mina had not diedout of my ears. And, before the spell couldbe wrought further upon me, I had nervedmyself to my wild work. By this time I hadsearched all the tombs in the chapel, so faras I could tell. And as there had been onlythree of these Undead phantoms around us in

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the night, I took it that there were no more ofactive Undead existent. There was one greattomb more lordly than all the rest. Huge itwas, and nobly proportioned. On it was butone word.

DRACULAThis then was the Undead home of the King Vampire,

to whom so many more were due. Its emptiness spokeeloquent to make certain what I knew. Before I began torestore these women to their dead selves through my aw-ful work, I laid in Dracula’s tomb some of the Wafer, andso banished him from it, Undead, for ever.

Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had itbeen but one, it had been easy, comparative. But three! Tobegin twice more after I had been through a deed of hor-ror. For it was terrible with the sweet Miss Lucy, whatwould it not be with these strange ones who had sur-vived through centuries, and who had been strengthenedby 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 Inot been nerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the

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living over whom hung such a pall of fear, I could nothave gone on. I tremble and tremble even yet, though tillall was over, God be thanked, my nerve did stand. Had Inot seen the repose in the first place, and the gladness thatstole over it just ere the final dissolution came, as realiza-tion that the soul had been won, I could not have gonefurther with my butchery. I could not have endured thehorrid screeching as the stake drove home, the plungingof writhing form, and lips of bloody foam. I should havefled in terror and left my work undone. But it is over!And the poor souls, I can pity them now and weep, asI think of them placid each in her full sleep of death fora short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly hadmy knife severed the head of each, before the whole bodybegan to melt away and crumble into its native dust, asthough the death that should have come centuries agohad at last assert himself and say at once and loud, “I amhere!”

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that nevermore can the Count enter there Undead.

When I stepped into the circle where Madam Minaslept, she woke from her sleep and, seeing me, cried outin pain that I had endured too much.

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“Come!” she said, “come away from this awful place!Let us go to meet my husband who is, I know, comingtowards us.” She was looking thin and pale and weak.But her eyes were pure and glowed with fervour. I wasglad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind wasfull of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep.

And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, wego eastward to meet our friends, and him, whom MadamMina tell me that she know are coming to meet us.

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL

6 November.–It was late in the afternoonwhen the Professor and I took our way to-wards the east whence I knew Jonathan wascoming. We did not go fast, though the waywas steeply downhill, for we had to takeheavy rugs and wraps with us. We darednot face the possibility of being left withoutwarmth in the cold and the snow. We hadto take some of our provisions too, for wewere in a perfect desolation, and so far aswe could see through the snowfall, there was

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not even the sign of habitation. When wehad gone about a mile, I was tired with theheavy walking and sat down to rest. Then welooked back and saw where the clear line ofDracula’s castle cut the sky. For we were sodeep under the hill whereon it was set thatthe angle of perspective of the Carpathianmountains was far below it. We saw it in allits grandeur, perched a thousand feet on thesummit of a sheer precipice, and with seem-ingly a great gap between it and the steepof the adjacent mountain on any side. Therewas something wild and uncanny about theplace. We could hear the distant howling ofwolves. They were far off, but the sound,even though coming muffled through thedeadening snowfall, was full of terror. I knewfrom the way Dr. Van Helsing was searchingabout that he was trying to seek some strate-gic point, where we would be less exposed incase of attack. The rough roadway still leddownwards. We could trace it through thedrifted snow.

In a little while the Professor signalled to me,

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so I got up and joined him. He had founda wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow ina rock, with an entrance like a doorway be-tween two boulders. He took me by the handand drew me in.“See!” he said, “here you will be in shelter.And if the wolves do come I can meet themone by one.”He brought in our furs, and made a snugnest for me, and got out some provisions andforced 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 pleasehim, I could not bring myself to the attempt.He looked very sad, but did not reproachme. Taking his field glasses from the case,he stood on the top of the rock, and beganto search the horizon.Suddenly he called out, “Look! MadamMina, look! Look!”I sprang up and stood beside him on therock. He handed me his glasses and pointed.The snow was now falling more heavily, and

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swirled about fiercely, for a high wind wasbeginning to blow. However, there weretimes when there were pauses between thesnow flurries and I could see a long wayround. From the height where we were it waspossible to see a great distance. And far off,beyond the white waste of snow, I could seethe river lying like a black ribbon in kinks andcurls as it wound its way. Straight in frontof us and not far off, in fact so near that Iwondered we had not noticed before, camea group of mounted men hurrying along. Inthe midst of them was a cart, a long leiterwagon which swept from side to side, like adog’s tail wagging, with each stern inequal-ity of the road. Outlined against the snow asthey were, I could see from the men’s clothesthat they were peasants or gypsies of somekind.

On the cart was a great square chest. Myheart leaped as I saw it, for I felt that the endwas coming. The evening was now draw-ing close, and well I knew that at sunset theThing, which was till then imprisoned there,

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would take new freedom and could in any ofmany forms elude pursuit. In fear I turnedto the Professor. To my consternation, how-ever, he was not there. An instant later, I sawhim below me. Round the rock he had drawna circle, such as we had found shelter in lastnight.

When he had completed it he stood besideme again saying, “At least you shall be safehere from him!” He took the glasses fromme, and at the next lull of the snow swept thewhole space below us. “See,” he said, “theycome 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 betoo late. God’s will be done!” Down cameanother blinding rush of driving snow, andthe whole landscape was blotted out. It soonpassed, however, and once more his glasseswere fixed on the plain.

Then came a sudden cry, “Look! Look! Look!See, two horsemen follow fast, coming up

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from the south. It must be Quincey and John.Take the glass. Look before the snow blotsit all out!” I took it and looked. The twomen might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Mor-ris. I knew at all events that neither of themwas Jonathan. At the same time I knew thatJonathan was not far off. Looking around Isaw on the north side of the coming party twoother men, riding at breakneck speed. One ofthem I knew was Jonathan, and the other Itook, of course, to be Lord Godalming. Theytoo, were pursuing the party with the cart.When I told the Professor he shouted in gleelike a schoolboy, and after looking intentlytill a snow fall made sight impossible, he laidhis Winchester rifle ready for use against theboulder at the opening of our shelter.

“They are all converging,” he said. “Whenthe time comes we shall have gypsies onall sides.” I got out my revolver ready tohand, for whilst we were speaking the howl-ing of wolves came louder and closer. Whenthe snow storm abated a moment we lookedagain. It was strange to see the snow falling

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in such heavy flakes close to us, and beyond,the sun shining more and more brightly asit sank down towards the far mountain tops.Sweeping the glass all around us I could seehere and there dots moving singly and intwos and threes and larger numbers. Thewolves were gathering for their prey.

Every instant seemed an age whilst wewaited. The wind came now in fierce bursts,and the snow was driven with fury as itswept upon us in circling eddies. At times wecould not see an arm’s length before us. Butat others, as the hollow sounding wind sweptby us, it seemed to clear the air space aroundus so that we could see afar off. We had oflate been so accustomed to watch for sunriseand sunset, that we knew with fair accuracywhen it would be. And we knew that beforelong the sun would set. It was hard to believethat by our watches it was less than an hourthat we waited in that rocky shelter beforethe various bodies began to converge closeupon us. The wind came now with fiercerand more bitter sweeps, and more steadily

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from the north. It seemingly had driven thesnow clouds from us, for with only occa-sional bursts, the snow fell. We could dis-tinguish clearly the individuals of each party,the pursued and the pursuers. Strangelyenough those pursued did not seem to real-ize, or at least to care, that they were pur-sued. They seemed, however, to hasten withredoubled speed as the sun dropped lowerand lower on the mountain tops.

Closer and closer they drew. The Professorand I crouched down behind our rock, andheld our weapons ready. I could see that hewas determined that they should not pass.One and all were quite unaware of our pres-ence.

All at once two voices shouted out to “Halt!”One was my Jonathan’s, raised in a high keyof passion. The other Mr. Morris’ strongresolute tone of quiet command. The gyp-sies may not have known the language, butthere was no mistaking the tone, in whatevertongue the words were spoken. Instinctively

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they reined in, and at the instant Lord Go-dalming and Jonathan dashed up at one sideand Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris on the other.The leader of the gypsies, a splendid look-ing fellow who sat his horse like a centaur,waved them back, and in a fierce voice gaveto his companions some word to proceed.They lashed the horses which sprang for-ward. But the four men raised their Winch-ester rifles, and in an unmistakable way com-manded them to stop. At the same momentDr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rockand pointed our weapons at them. Seeingthat they were surrounded the men tightenedtheir reins and drew up. The leader turnedto them and gave a word at which every manof the gypsy party drew what weapon he car-ried, knife or pistol, and held himself in readi-ness to attack. Issue was joined in an instant.

The leader, with a quick movement of hisrein, threw his horse out in front, and pointedfirst to the sun, now close down on the hilltops, and then to the castle, said somethingwhich I did not understand. For answer,

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all four men of our party threw themselvesfrom their horses and dashed towards thecart. I should have felt terrible fear at see-ing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ar-dor of battle must have been upon me as wellas the rest of them. I felt no fear, but onlya wild, surging desire to do something. See-ing the quick movement of our parties, theleader of the gypsies gave a command. Hismen instantly formed round the cart in a sortof undisciplined endeavour, each one shoul-dering and pushing the other in his eagernessto carry out the order.

In the midst of this I could see that Jonathanon one side of the ring of men, and Quinceyon the other, were forcing a way to the cart. Itwas evident that they were bent on finishingtheir task before the sun should set. Noth-ing seemed to stop or even to hinder them.Neither the levelled weapons nor the flash-ing knives of the gypsies in front, nor thehowling of the wolves behind, appeared toeven attract their attention. Jonathan’s im-petuosity, and the manifest singleness of his

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purpose, seemed to overawe those in front ofhim. Instinctively they cowered aside and lethim pass. In an instant he had jumped uponthe cart, and with a strength which seemedincredible, raised the great box, and flung itover the wheel to the ground. In the mean-time, Mr. Morris had had to use force topass through his side of the ring of Szgany.All the time I had been breathlessly watch-ing Jonathan I had, with the tail of my eye,seen him pressing desperately forward, andhad seen the knives of the gypsies flash ashe won a way through them, and they cutat him. He had parried with his great bowieknife, and at first I thought that he too hadcome through in safety. But as he sprang be-side Jonathan, who had by now jumped fromthe cart, I could see that with his left hand hewas clutching at his side, and that the bloodwas spurting through his fingers. He did notdelay notwithstanding this, for as Jonathan,with desperate energy, attacked one end ofthe chest, attempting to prize off the lid withhis great Kukri knife, he attacked the other

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frantically with his bowie. Under the effortsof both men the lid began to yield. The nailsdrew with a screeching sound, and the top ofthe box was thrown back.

By this time the gypsies, seeing themselvescovered by the Winchesters, and at the mercyof Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, hadgiven in and made no further resistance. Thesun was almost down on the mountain tops,and the shadows of the whole group fellupon the snow. I saw the Count lying withinthe box upon the earth, some of which therude falling from the cart had scattered overhim. He was deathly pale, just like a waxenimage, and the red eyes glared with the hor-rible vindictive look which I knew so well.

As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, andthe look of hate in them turned to triumph.

But, on the instant, came the sweep and flashof Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw itshear through the throat. Whilst at the samemoment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plungedinto the heart.

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It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes,and almost in the drawing of a breath, thewhole body crumbled into dust and passedfrom our sight.I shall be glad as long as I live that even inthat moment of final dissolution, there was inthe face a look of peace, such as I never couldhave imagined might have rested there.The Castle of Dracula now stood out againstthe red sky, and every stone of its broken bat-tlements was articulated against the light ofthe setting sun.The gypsies, taking us as in some way thecause of the extraordinary disappearance ofthe dead man, turned, without a word, androde away as if for their lives. Those whowere unmounted jumped upon the leiterwagon and shouted to the horsemen not todesert them. The wolves, which had with-drawn to a safe distance, followed in theirwake, leaving us alone.Mr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground,leaned on his elbow, holding his hand

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pressed to his side. The blood still gushedthrough his fingers. I flew to him, for theHoly circle did not now keep me back; so didthe two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind himand the wounded man laid back his head onhis shoulder. With a sigh he took, with a fee-ble effort, my hand in that of his own whichwas unstained.

He must have seen the anguish of my heartin my face, for he smiled at me and said, “Iam only too happy to have been of service!Oh, God!” he cried suddenly, struggling toa sitting posture and pointing to me. “It wasworth for this to die! Look! Look!”

The sun was now right down upon themountain top, and the red gleams fell uponmy face, so that it was bathed in rosy light.With one impulse the men sank on theirknees and a deep and earnest “Amen” brokefrom all as their eyes followed the pointing ofhis finger.

The dying man spoke, “Now God be thankedthat all has not been in vain! See! The snow

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is not more stainless than her forehead! Thecurse has passed away!”And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and insilence, he died, a gallant gentleman.

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Seven years ago we all went through the flames. Andthe happiness of some of us since then is, we think, wellworth the pain we endured. It is an added joy to Minaand to me that our boy’s birthday is the same day as thaton which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I know,the secret belief that some of our brave friend’s spirit haspassed into him. His bundle of names links all our littleband of men together. But we call him Quincey.

In the summer of this year we made a journey to Tran-sylvania, and went over the old ground which was, andis, to us so full of vivid and terrible memories. It was al-most impossible to believe that the things which we had

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seen with our own eyes and heard with our own earswere living truths. Every trace of all that had been wasblotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high abovea waste of desolation.

When we got home we were talking of the old time,which we could all look back on without despair, for Go-dalming and Seward are both happily married. I took thepapers from the safe where they had been ever since ourreturn so long ago. We were struck with the fact, thatin all the mass of material of which the record is com-posed, there is hardly one authentic document. Nothingbut a mass of typewriting, except the later notebooks ofMina and Seward and myself, and Van Helsing’s memo-randum. We could hardly ask any one, even did we wishto, to accept these as proofs of so wild a story. Van Hels-ing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his knee.

“We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! Thisboy will some day know what a brave and gallant womanhis mother is. Already he knows her sweetness and lov-ing care. Later on he will understand how some men soloved her, that they did dare much for her sake.”

JONATHAN HARKER

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