Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued
When I found that I was a prisoner
a sort of wild feeling came over
me. I rushed up and down the
stairs, trying every door and
peering out of every window I
could find, but after a little
the conviction of my helplessness
overpowered all other feelings.
When I look back after a few
hours I think I must have been
mad for the time, for I behaved
much as a rat does in a trap.
When, however, the conviction
had come to me that I was helpless
I sat down quietly, as quietly
as I have ever done anything
in my life, and began to think
over what was best to be done.
I am thinking still, and as yet
have come to no definite conclusion.
Of one thing only am I certain.
That it is no use making my ideas
known to the Count. He knows
well that I am imprisoned, and
as he has done it himself, and
has doubtless his own motives
for it, he would only deceive
me if I trusted him fully with
the facts. So far as I can see,
my only plan will be to keep
my knowledge and my fears to
myself, and my eyes open. I am,
I know, either being deceived,
like a baby, by my own fears,
or else I 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 the great door below
shut, and knew that the Count
had returned. He did not come
at once into the library, so
I went cautiously to my own room
and found him making the bed.
This was odd, but only confirmed
what I had all along thought,
that there are no servants in
the house. When later I saw him
through the chink of the hinges
of the door laying the table
in the dining room, I was assured
of it. For if he does himself
all these menial offices, surely
it is proof that there is no
one else in the castle, it must
have been the Count himself who
was the driver of the coach that
brought me here. This is a terrible
thought, for if so, what does
it mean that he could control
the wolves, as he did, by only
holding up his hand for silence?
How was it that all the people
at Bistritz and on the coach
had some terrible fear for me?
What meant the giving of the
crucifix, of the garlic, of the
wild rose, of the mountain ash?
Bless that good, good woman
who hung the crucifix round my
neck! For it is a comfort and
a strength to me whenever I touch
it. It is odd that a thing which
I have been taught to regard
with disfavour and as idolatrous
should in a time of loneliness
and trouble be of help. Is it
that there is something in the
essence of the thing itself,
or that it is a medium, a tangible
help, in conveying memories of
sympathy and comfort? Some time,
if it may be, I must examine
this matter and try to make up
my mind about it. In the meantime
I must find out all I can about
Count Dracula, as it may help
me to understand. Tonight he
may talk of himself, if I turn
the conversation that way. I
must be very careful, however,
not to awake his suspicion.
Midnight.--I
have had a long talk with the
Count. I asked
him a few questions on Transylvania
history, and he warmed up to
the subject wonderfully. In his
speaking of things and people,
and especially of battles, he
spoke as if he had been present
at them all. This he afterwards
explained by saying that to a
Boyar the pride of his house
and name is his own pride, that
their glory is his glory, that
their fate is his fate. Whenever
he spoke of his house he always
said "we", and spoke almost in
the plural, like a king speaking.
I wish I could put down all he
said exactly as he said it, for
to me it was most fascinating.
It seemed to have in it a whole
history of the country. He grew
excited as he spoke, and walked
about the room pulling his great
white moustache and grasping
anything on which he laid his
hands as though he would crush
it by main strength. One thing
he said which I shall put down
as nearly as I can, for it tells
in its way the story of his race.
"We Szekelys have a right to
be proud, for in our veins flows
the blood of many brave races
who fought as the lion fights,
for lordship. Here, in the whirlpool
of European races, the Ugric
tribe bore down from Iceland
the fighting spirit which Thor
and Wodin game them, which their
Berserkers displayed to such
fell intent on the seaboards
of Europe, aye, and of Asia and
Africa too, till the peoples
thought that the werewolves themselves
had come. Here, too, when they
came, they found the Huns, whose
warlike fury had swept the earth
like a living flame, till the
dying peoples held that in their
veins ran the blood of those
old witches, who, expelled from
Scythia had mated with the devils
in the desert. Fools, fools!
What devil or what witch was
ever so great as Attila, whose
blood is in these veins?" He
held up his arms. "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 on our frontiers,
we drove them back? Is it strange
that when Arpad and his legions
swept through the Hungarian fatherland
he found us here when he reached
the frontier, that the Honfoglalas
was completed there?And when
the Hungarian flood swept eastward,
the Szekelys were claimed as
kindred by the victorious Magyars,
and to us for centuries was trusted
the guarding of the frontier
of Turkeyland. Aye, and more
than that, endless duty of the
frontier guard, for as the Turks
say, `water sleeps, and the enemy
is sleepless.' Who more gladly
than we throughout the Four Nations
received the `bloody sword,'
or at its warlike call flocked
quicker to the standard of the
King? When was redeemed that
great shame of my nation, the
shame of Cassova, when the flags
of the Wallach and the Magyar
went down beneath the Crescent?Who
was it but one of my own race
who as Voivode crossed the Danube
and beat the Turk on his own
ground? This was a Dracula indeed!
Woe was it that his own unworthy
brother, when he had fallen,
sold his people to the Turk and
brought the shame of slavery
on them! Was it not this Dracula,
indeed, who inspired that other
of his race who in a later age
again and again brought his forces
over the great river into Turkeyland,
who, when he was beaten back,
came again, and again, though
he had to come alone from the
bloody field where his troops
were being slaughtered, since
he knew that he alone could ultimately
triumph! They said that he thought
only of himself. Bah! What good
are peasants without a leader?
Where ends the war without a
brain and heart to conduct it?
Again, when, after the battle
of Mohacs, we threw off the Hungarian
yoke, we of the Dracula blood
were amongst their leaders, for
our spirit would not brook that
we were not free. Ah, young sir,
the Szekelys, and the Dracula
as their heart's blood, their
brains, and their swords, can
boast a record that mushroom
growths like the Hapsburgs and
the Romanoffs can never reach.
The warlike days are over. Blood
is too precious a thing in these
days of dishonourable peace,
and the glories of the great
races are as a tale that is told."
It was by this
time close on morning, and
we went to bed.
(Mem., this diary seems horribly
like the beginning of the "Arabian
Nights," for everything has to
break off at 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 can be no doubt.
I must not confuse them with
experiences which will have to
rest on my own observation, or
my memory of them. Last evening
when the Count came from his
room he began by asking me questions
on legal matters and on the doing
of certain kinds of business.
I had spent the day wearily over
books, and, simply to keep my
mind occupied, went over some
of the matters I had been examined
in at Lincoln's Inn. There was
a certain method in the Count's
inquiries, so I shall try to
put them down in sequence. The
knowledge may somehow or some
time be useful to me.
First, he asked if a man in
England might have two solicitors
or more. I told him he might
have a dozen if he wished, but
that it would not be wise to
have more than one solicitor
engaged in one transaction, as
only one could act at a time,
and that to change would be certain
to militate against his interest.
He seemed thoroughly to understand,
and went on to ask if there would
be any practical difficulty in
having one man to attend, say,
to banking, and another to look
after shipping, in case local
help were needed in a place far
from the home of the banking
solicitor. I asked to explain
more fully, so that I might not
by any chance mislead him, so
he said,
"I shall illustrate.
Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter
Hawkins,
from under the shadow of your
beautiful cathedral at Exeter,
which is far from London, buys
for me through your good self
my place at London. Good! Now
here let me say frankly, lest
you should think it strange that
I have sought the services of
one so far off from London instead
of some one resident there, that
my motive was that no local interest
might be served save my wish
only, and as one of London residence
might, perhaps, have some purpose
of himself or friend to serve,
I went thus afield to seek my
agent, whose labours should be
only to my interest. Now, suppose
I, who have much of affairs,
wish to ship goods, say, to Newcastle,
or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover,
might it not be that it could
with more ease be done by consigning
to one in these ports?"
I answered that certainly it
would be most easy, but that
we solicitors had a system of
agency one for the other, so
that local work could be done
locally on instruction from any
solicitor, so that the client,
simply placing himself in the
hands of one man, could have
his wishes 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 to be known by
any one person."
"Good!" he said, and then went
on to ask about the means of
making consignments and the forms
to be gone through, and of all
sorts of difficulties which might
arise, but by forethought could
be guarded against. I explained
all these things to him to the
best of my ability, and he certainly
left me under the impression
that he would have made a wonderful
solicitor, for there was nothing
that he did not think of or foresee.
For a man who was never in the
country, and who did not evidently
do much in the way of business,
his knowledge and acumen were
wonderful. When he had satisfied
himself on these points of which
he had spoken, and I had verified
all as well as I could by the
books available, he suddenly
stood up and said, "Have you
written since your first letter
to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins,
or to any other?"
It was with some bitterness
in my heart that I answered that
I had not, that as yet I had
not seen any opportunity 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 to any other, and say, if
it will please you, that you
shall stay with me until a month
from now."
"Do you wish me to stay so
long?" I asked, for my heart
grew cold at the thought.
"I desire it
much, nay I will take no refusal.
When your master,
employer, what you will, engaged
that someone should come on his
behalf, it was understood that
my needs only were to be consulted.
I have not stinted. Is it 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 speaking,
there was that in his eyes and
in his bearing which made me
remember that I was a prisoner,
and that if I wished it I could
have no choice. The Count saw
his victory 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 not discourse
of things other than business
in your letters. It will doubtless
please your friends to know that
you are well, and that you look
forward to getting home to them.
Is it not so?" As he spoke he
handed me three sheets of note
paper and three envelopes. They
were all of the thinnest foreign
post, and looking at them, then
at him, and noticing his quiet
smile, with the sharp, canine
teeth lying over the red underlip,
I understood as well as if he
had spoken that I should be more
careful what I wrote, for he
would be able to read it. So
I determined to write only formal
notes now, but to write fully
to Mr. Hawkins in secret, and
also to Mina, for to her I could
write shorthand, which would
puzzle the Count, if he did see
it. When I had written my two
letters I sat quiet, reading
a book whilst the Count wrote
several notes, referring as he
wrote them to some books on his
table. Then he took up my two
and placed them with his own,
and put by his writing materials,
after which, the instant the
door had closed behind him, I
leaned over and looked at the
letters, which were face down
on the table. I felt no compunction
in doing so for under the circumstances
I felt that I should protect
myself in every way I could.
One of the
letters was directed to Samuel
F. Billington, No.
7, The Crescent, Whitby, another
to Herr Leutner, Varna. The third
was to Coutts & Co., London,
and the fourth to Herren Klopstock & Billreuth,
bankers, Buda Pesth. The second
and fourth were unsealed. I was
just about to look at them when
I saw the door handle move. I
sank back in my seat, having
just had time to resume my book
before the Count, holding still
another letter in his hand, entered
the room. He took up the letters
on the table and stamped them
carefully, and then turning to
me, said,
"I trust you will forgive me,
but I have much work to do in
private this evening. You will,
I hope, find all things as you
wish." At the door he turned,
and after a moment's pause said, "Let
me advise you, my dear young
friend. Nay, let me warn you
with all seriousness, that should
you leave these rooms you will
not by any chance go to sleep
in any other part of the castle.
It is old, and has many memories,
and there are bad dreams for
those who sleep unwisely. Be
warned! Should sleep now or ever
overcome you, or be like to do,
then haste to your own chamber
or to these rooms, for your rest
will then be safe. But if you
be not careful in this respect,
then," He finished his speech
in a gruesome way, for he motioned
with his hands as if he were
washing them. I quite understood.
My only doubt was as to whether
any dream could be more terrible
than the unnatural, horrible
net of 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 in
any place where he is not. I
have placed the crucifix over
the head of my bed, I imagine
that my rest is thus freer from
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 stone stair to
where I could look out towards
the South. There was some sense
of freedom in the vast expanse,
inaccessible though it was to
me, as compared with the narrow
darkness of the courtyard. Looking
out on this, I felt that I was
indeed in prison, and I seemed
to want a breath of fresh air,
though it were of the night.
I am beginning to feel this nocturnal
existence tell on me. It is destroying
my nerve. I start at my own shadow,
and am full of all sorts of horrible
imaginings. God knows that there
is ground for my terrible fear
in this accursed place!I looked
out over the beautiful expanse,
bathed in soft yellow moonlight
till it was almost as light as
day. In the soft light the distant
hills became melted, and the
shadows in the valleys and gorges
of velvety blackness. The mere
beauty seemed to cheer me. There
was peace and comfort in every
breath I drew. As I leaned from
the window my eye was caught
by something moving a storey
below me, and somewhat to my
left, where I imagined, from
the order of the rooms, that
the windows of the Count's own
room would look out. The window
at which I stood was tall and
deep, stone-mullioned, and though
weatherworn, was still complete.
But it was evidently many a day
since the case had been there.
I drew back behind the stonework,
and looked carefully out.
What I saw was the Count's
head coming out from the window.
I did not see the face, but I
knew the man by the neck and
the movement of his back and
arms. In any case I could not
mistake the hands which I had
had some many opportunities of
studying. I was at first interested
and somewhat amused, for it is
wonderful how small a matter
will interest and amuse a man
when he is a prisoner. But my
very feelings changed to repulsion
and terror when I saw the whole
man slowly emerge from the window
and begin to crawl down the castle
wall over the dreadful abyss,
face down with his cloak spreading
out around him like great wings.
At first I could not believe
my eyes. I thought it was some
trick of the moonlight, some
weird effect of shadow, but I
kept looking, and it could be
no delusion. I saw the fingers
and toes grasp the corners of
the stones, worn clear of the
mortar by the stress of years,
and by thus using every projection
and inequality move downwards
with considerable speed, just
as a lizard moves along a wall.
What manner of man is this,
or what manner of creature, is
it in the semblance of man? I
feel the dread of this horrible
place overpowering me. I am in
fear, in awful fear, and there
is no escape for me. I am encompassed
about with terrors that I dare
not think of.
15 May.--Once more I have seen
the count go out in his lizard
fashion. He moved downwards in
a sidelong way, some hundred
feet down, and a good deal to
the left. He vanished into some
hole or window. When his head
had disappeared, I leaned out
to try and see more, but without
avail. The distance was too great
to allow a proper angle of sight.
I knew he had left the castle
now, and thought to use the opportunity
to explore more than I had dared
to do as yet. I went back to
the room, and taking a lamp,
tried all the doors. They were
all locked, as I had expected,
and the locks were comparatively
new. But I went down the stone
stairs to the hall where I had
entered originally. I found I
could pull back the bolts easily
enough and unhook the great chains.
But the door was locked, and
the key was gone! That key must
be in the Count's room. I must
watch should his door be unlocked,
so that I may get it and escape.
I went on to make a thorough
examination of the various stairs
and passages, and to try the
doors that opened from them.
One or two small rooms near the
hall were open, but there was
nothing to see in them except
old furniture, dusty with age
and moth-eaten. At last, however,
I found one door at the top of
the stairway which, though it
seemed locked, gave a little
under pressure. I tried it harder,
and found that it was not really
locked, but that the resistance
came from the fact that the hinges
had fallen somewhat, and the
heavy door rested on the floor.
Here was an opportunity 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 than the rooms I knew
and a storey lower down. From
the windows I could see that
the suite of rooms lay along
to the south of the castle, the
windows of the end room looking
out both west and south. On the
latter side, as well as to the
former, there was a great precipice.
The castle was built on the corner
of a great rock, so that on three
sides it was quite impregnable,
and great windows were placed
here where sling, or bow, or
culverin could not reach, and
consequently light and comfort,
impossible to a position which
had to be guarded, were secured.
To the west was a great valley,
and then, rising far away, great
jagged mountain fastnesses, rising
peak on peak, the sheer rock
studded with mountain ash and
thorn, whose roots clung in cracks
and crevices and crannies of
the stone. This was evidently
the portion of the castle occupied
by the ladies in bygone days,
for the furniture had more an
air of comfort than any I had
seen.
The windows
were curtainless, and the yellow
moonlight, flooding
in through the diamond panes,
enabled one to see even colours,
whilst it softened the wealth
of dust which lay over all and
disguised in some measure the
ravages of time and moth. My
lamp seemed to be of little effect
in the brilliant moonlight, but
I was glad to have it with me,
for there was a dread loneliness
in the place which chilled my
heart and made my nerves tremble.
Still, it was better than living
alone in the rooms which I had
come to hate from the presence
of the Count, and after trying
a little to school my nerves,
I found a soft quietude come
over me. Here I am, sitting at
a little oak table where in old
times possibly some fair lady
sat to pen, with much thought
and many blushes, her ill-spelt
love letter, and writing in my
diary in shorthand all that has
happened since I closed it last.
It is the nineteenth century
up-to-date with a vengeance.
And yet, unless my senses deceive
me, the old centuries had, and
have, powers of their own which
mere "modernity" cannot kill.
Later: The
morning of 16 May.--God preserve
my sanity, for to this
I am reduced. Safety and the
assurance of safety are things
of the past. Whilst I live on
here there is 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 it
is maddening to think that of
all the foul things that lurk
in this hateful place the Count
is the least dreadful to me,
that to him alone I can look
for safety, even though this
be only whilst I can serve his
purpose. Great God! Merciful
God, let me be calm, for out
of that way lies madness indeed.
I begin to get new lights on
certain things which have puzzled
me. Up to now I never quite knew
what Shakespeare meant when he
made Hamlet say, "My tablets!
Quick, my tablets! `tis meet
that I put it down," etc., For
now, feeling as though my own
brain were unhinged or as if
the shock had come which must
end in its undoing, I turn to
my diary for repose. The habit
of entering accurately must help
to soothe me.
The Count's mysterious warning
frightened me at the time. It
frightens me more not when I
think of it, for in the future
he has a fearful hold upon me.
I shall fear to doubt what he
may say!
When I had written in my diary
and had fortunately replaced
the book and pen in my pocket
I felt sleepy. The Count's warning
came into my mind, but I took
pleasure in disobeying it. The
sense of sleep was upon me, and
with it the obstinacy which sleep
brings as outrider. The soft
moonlight soothed, and the wide
expanse without gave a sense
of freedom which refreshed me.
I determined not to return tonight
to the gloom-haunted rooms, but
to sleep here, where, of old,
ladies had sat and sung and lived
sweet lives whilst their gentle
breasts were sad for their menfolk
away in the midst of remorseless
wars. I drew a great couch out
of its place near the corner,
so that as I lay, I could look
at the lovely view to east and
south, and unthinking of and
uncaring for the dust, composed
myself for sleep. I suppose I
must have fallen asleep. I hope
so, but I fear, for all that
followed was startlingly real,
so real that now sitting here
in the broad, full sunlight of
the morning, I cannot in the
least believe that it was all
sleep.
I was not alone. The room was
the same, unchanged in any way
since I came into it. I could
see along the floor, in the brilliant
moonlight, my own footsteps marked
where I had disturbed the long
accumulation of dust. In the
moonlight opposite me were three
young women, ladies by their
dress and manner. I thought at
the time that I must be dreaming
when I saw them, they threw no
shadow on the floor. They came
close to me, and looked at me
for some time, and then whispered
together. Two were dark, and
had high aquiline noses, like
the Count, and great dark, piercing
eyes, that seemed to be almost
red when contrasted with the
pale yellow moon. The other was
fair, as fair as can be, with
great masses of golden hair and
eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed
somehow to know her face, and
to know it in connection with
some dreamy fear, but I could
not recollect at the moment how
or where. All three had brilliant
white teeth that shone like pearls
against the ruby of their voluptuous
lips. There was something about
them that made me uneasy, some
longing and at the same time
some deadly fear. I felt in my
heart a wicked, burning desire
that they would kiss me with
those red lips.It is not good
to note this down, lest some
day it should meet Mina's eyes
and cause her pain, but it is
the truth. They whispered together,
and then they all three laughed,
such a silvery, musical laugh,
but as hard as though the sound
never could have come through
the softness of human lips. It
was like the intolerable, tingling
sweetness of waterglasses when
played on by a cunning hand.
The fair girl shook her head
coquettishly, and the other two
urged her 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
are kisses
for us all."
I lay quiet, looking out from
under my eyelashes in an agony
of delightful anticipation. The
fair girl advanced and bent over
me till I could feel the movement
of her breath upon me. Sweet
it was in one sense, honey-sweet,
and sent the same tingling through
the nerves as her voice, but
with a bitter underlying the
sweet, a bitter offensiveness,
as one smells in blood.
I was afraid to raise my eyelids,
but looked out and saw perfectly
under the lashes. The girl went
on her knees, and bent over me,
simply gloating. There was a
deliberate voluptuousness which
was both thrilling and repulsive,
and as she arched her neck she
actually licked her lips like
an animal, till I could see in
the moonlight the moisture shining
on the scarlet lips and on the
red tongue as it lapped the white
sharp teeth. Lower and lower
went her head as the lips went
below the range of my mouth and
chin and seemed to fasten on
my throat. Then she paused, and
I could hear the churning sound
of her tongue as it licked her
teeth and lips, and I could feel
the hot breath on my neck. Then
the skin of my throat began to
tingle as one's flesh does when
the hand that is to tickle it
approaches nearer, nearer. I
could feel the soft, shivering
touch of the lips on the super
sensitive skin of my throat,
and the hard dents of two sharp
teeth, just touching and pausing
there. I closed my eyes in languorous
ecstasy and waited, waited with
beating heart.
But at that instant, another
sensation swept through me as
quick as lightning. I was conscious
of the presence of the Count,
and of his being as if lapped
in a storm of fury. As my eyes
opened involuntarily I saw his
strong hand grasp the slender
neck of the fair woman and with
giant's power draw it back, the
blue eyes transformed with fury,
the white teeth champing with
rage, and the fair cheeks blazing
red with passion. But the Count!
Never did I imagine such wrath
and fury, even to the demons
of the pit. His eyes were positively
blazing. The red light in them
was lurid, as if the flames of
hell fire blazed behind them.
His face was deathly pale, and
the lines of it were hard like
drawn wires. The thick eyebrows
that met over the nose now seemed
like a heaving bar of white-hot
metal. With a fierce sweep of
his arm, he hurled the woman
from him, and then motioned to
the others, as though he were
beating them back. It was the
same imperious gesture that I
had seen used to the wolves.
In a voice which, though low
and almost in a whisper seemed
to cut through the air and then
ring in the room he said,
"How dare you
touch him, any of you? How
dare you cast eyes
on him when I had forbidden it?
Back, I tell you all! This man
belongs to me! Beware how you
meddle with him, or you'll have
to deal with me."
The fair girl,
with a laugh of ribald coquetry,
turned to
answer 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
almost made me faint to hear.
It seemed like the pleasure of
fiends.
Then the Count
turned, after looking at my
face attentively,
and said in a soft whisper, "Yes,
I too can love. You yourselves
can tell it from the past. Is
it not so? Well, now I promise
you that when I am done with
him you shall kiss 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 thrown upon the floor,
and which moved as though there
were some living thing within
it. For answer he nodded his
head. One of the women jumped
forward and opened it. If my
ears did not deceive me there
was a gasp and a low wail, as
of a half smothered child. The
women closed round, whilst I
was aghast with horror. But as
I looked, they disappeared, and
with them the dreadful bag. There
was no door near them, and they
could not have passed me without
my noticing. They simply seemed
to fade into the rays of the
moonlight and pass out through
the window, for I could see outside
the dim, shadowy forms for a
moment before they entirely faded
away.
Then the horror overcame me,
and I sank down unconscious. |