JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
1 October, 5 a. m.--I went
with the party to the search
with an easy mind, for I think
I never saw Mina so absolutely
strong and well. I am so glad
that she consented to hold back
and let us men do the work. Somehow,
it was a dread to me that she
was in this fearful business
at all, but now that her work
is done, and that it is due to
her energy and brains and foresight
that the whole story is put together
in such a way that every point
tells, she may well feel that
her part is finished, and that
she can henceforth leave the
rest to us. We were, I think,
all a little upset by the scene
with Mr. Renfield. When we came
away from his room we were silent
till we got back to the study.
Then Mr. Morris
said to Dr. Seward, "Say, Jack,
if that man wasn't attempting
a bluff, he
is about the sanest lunatic I
ever saw. I'm not sure, but I
believe that he had some serious
purpose, and if he had, it was
pretty rough on him not to get
a chance."
Lord Godalming
and I were silent, but Dr.
Van Helsing added, "Friend
John, you know more lunatics
than I do, and I'm glad of it,
for I fear that if it had been
to me to decide I would before
that last hysterical outburst
have given him free. But we live
and learn, and in our present
task we must take no chance,
as my friend Quincey would say.
All is best as they are."
Dr. Seward
seemed to answer them both
in a dreamy kind of
way, "I don't know but that I
agree with you. If that man had
been an ordinary lunatic I would
have taken my chance of trusting
him, but he seems so mixed up
with the Count in an indexy kind
of way that I am afraid of doing
anything wrong by helping his
fads. I can't forget how he prayed
with almost equal fervor for
a cat, and then tried to tear
my throat out with his teeth.
Besides, he called the Count
`lord and master', and he may
want to get out to help him in
some diabolical way. That horrid
thing has the wolves and the
rats and his own kind to help
him, so I suppose he isn't above
trying to use a respectable lunatic.
He certainly did seem earnest,
though. I only hope we have done
what is best. These things, in
conjunction with the wild work
we have in hand, help to unnerve
a man."
The Professor
stepped over, and laying his
hand on his shoulder,
said in his grave, kindly way, "Friend
John, have no fear. We are trying
to do our duty in a very sad
and terrible case, we can only
do as we deem best. What else
have we to hope for, except the
pity of the good God?"
Lord Godalming
had slipped away for a few
minutes, but now
he returned. He held up a little
silver whistle, as he remarked, "That
old place may be full of rats,
and if so, I've got an antidote
on call."
Having passed the wall, we
took our way to the house, taking
care to keep in the shadows of
the trees on the lawn when the
moonlight shone out. When we
got to the porch the Professor
opened his bag and took out a
lot of things, which he laid
on the step, sorting them into
four little groups, evidently
one for each. Then he spoke.
"My friends, we are going into
a terrible danger, and we need
arms of many kinds. Our enemy
is not merely spiritual. Remember
that he has the strength of twenty
men, and that, though our necks
or our windpipes are of the common
kind, and therefore breakable
or crushable, his are not amenable
to mere strength. A stronger
man, or a body of men more strong
in all than him, can at certain
times hold him, but they cannot
hurt him as we can be hurt by
him. We must, therefore, guard
ourselves from his touch. Keep
this near your heart." As he
spoke he lifted a little silver
crucifix and held it out to me,
I being nearest to him, "put
these flowers round your neck," here
he handed to me a wreath of withered
garlic blossoms, "for other enemies
more mundane, this revolver and
this knife, and for aid in all,
these so small electric lamps,
which you can fasten to your
breast, and for all, and above
all at the last, this, which
we must not desecrate needless."
This was a portion of Sacred
Wafer, which he put in an envelope
and handed to me. Each of the
others was similarly equipped.
"Now,"he said,"friend
John, where are the skeleton
keys?
If so that we can open the door,
we need not break house by the
window, as before at Miss Lucy's."
Dr. Seward tried one or two
skeleton keys, his mechanical
dexterity as a surgeon standing
him in good stead. Presently
he got one to suit, after a little
play back and forward the bolt
yielded, and with a rusty clang,
shot back. We pressed on the
door, the rusty hinges creaked,
and it slowly opened. It was
startlingly like the image conveyed
to me in Dr. Seward's diary of
the opening of Miss Westenra's
tomb, I fancy that the same idea
seemed to strike the others,
for with one accord they shrank
back. The Professor was the first
to move forward, and stepped
into the open door.
"In manus tuas, Domine!"he
said, crossing himself as he
passed over the threshold. We
closed the door behind us, lest
when we should have lit our lamps
we should possibly attract attention
from the road. The Professor
carefully tried the lock, lest
we might not be able to open
it from within should we be in
a hurry making our exit. Then
we all lit our lamps and proceeded
on our search.
The light from the tiny lamps
fell in all sorts of odd forms,
as the rays crossed each other,
or the opacity of our bodies
threw great shadows. I could
not for my life get away from
the feeling that there was someone
else amongst us. I suppose it
was the recollection, so powerfully
brought home to me by the grim
surroundings, of that terrible
experience in Transylvania. I
think the feeling was common
to us all, for I noticed that
the others kept looking over
their shoulders at every sound
and every new shadow, just as
I felt myself doing.
The whole place was thick with
dust. The floor was seemingly
inches deep, except where there
were recent footsteps, in which
on holding down my lamp I could
see marks of hobnails where the
dust was cracked. The walls were
fluffy and heavy with dust, and
in the corners were masses of
spider's webs, whereon the dust
had gathered till they looked
like old tattered rags as the
weight had torn them partly down.
On a table in the hall was a
great bunch of keys, with a timeyellowed
label on each. They had been
used several times, for on the
table were several similar rents
in the blanket of dust, similar
to that exposed when the Professor
lifted them.
He turned to
me and said,"You
know this place, Jonathan. You
have copied maps of it, and you
know it at least more than we
do. Which is the way to the chapel?"
I had an idea of its direction,
though on my former visit I had
not been able to get admission
to it, so I led the way, and
after a few wrong turnings found
myself opposite a low, arched
oaken door, ribbed with iron
bands.
"This is the spot," said
the Professor as he turned
his lamp
on a small map of the house,
copied from the file of my original
correspondence regarding the
purchase. With a little trouble
we found the key on the bunch
and opened the door. We were
prepared for some unpleasantness,
for as we were opening the door
a faint, malodorous air seemed
to exhale through the gaps, but
none of us ever expected such
an odor as we encountered. None
of the others had met the Count
at all at close quarters, and
when I had seen him he was either
in the fasting stage of his existence
in his rooms or, when he was
bloated with fresh blood, in
a ruined building open to the
air, but here the place was small
and close, and the long disuse
had made the air stagnant and
foul. There was an earthy smell,
as of some dry miasma, which
came through the fouler air.
But as to the odor itself, how
shall I describe it? It was not
alone that it was composed of
all the ills of mortality and
with the pungent, acrid smell
of blood, but it seemed as though
corruption had become itself
corrupt. Faugh! It sickens me
to think of it. Every breath
exhaled by that monster seemed
to have clung to the place and
intensified its loathsomeness.
Under ordinary circumstances
such a stench would have brought
our enterprise to an end, but
this was no ordinary case, and
the high and terrible purpose
in which we were involved gave
us a strength which rose above
merely physical considerations.
After the involuntary shrinking
consequent on the first nauseous
whiff, we one and all set about
our work as though that loathsome
place were a garden of roses.
We made an
accurate examination of the
place, the Professor saying
as we began, "The first thing
is to see how many of the boxes
are left, we must then examine
every hole and corner and cranny
and see if we cannot get some
clue as to what has become of
the rest."
A glance was sufficient to
show how many remained, for the
great earth chests were bulky,
and there was no mistaking them.
There were
only twenty-nine left out of
the fifty! Once I
got a fright, for, seeing Lord
Godalming suddenly turn and look
out of the vaulted door into
the dark passage beyond, I looked
too, and for an instant my heart
stood still. Somewhere, looking
out from the shadow, I seemed
to see the high lights of the
Count's evil face, the ridge
of the nose, the red eyes, the
red lips, the awful pallor. It
was only for a moment, for, as
Lord Godalming said,"I thought
I saw a face, but it was only
the shadows," and resumed his
inquiry, I turned my lamp in
the direction, and stepped into
the passage. There was no sign
of anyone, and as there were
no corners, no doors, no aperture
of any kind, but only the solid
walls of the passage, there could
be no hiding place even for him.
I took it that fear had helped
imagination, and said nothing.
A few minutes later I saw Morris
step suddenly back from a corner,
which he was examining. We all
followed his movements with our
eyes, for undoubtedly some nervousness
was growing on us, and we saw
a whole mass of phosphorescence,
which twinkled like stars. We
all instinctively drew back.
The whole place was becoming
alive with rats.
For a moment or two we stood
appalled, all save Lord Godalming,
who was seemingly prepared for
such an emergency. Rushing over
to the great iron-bound oaken
door, which Dr. Seward had described
from the outside, and which I
had seen myself, he turned the
key in the lock, drew the huge
bolts, and swung the door open.
Then, taking his little silver
whistle from his pocket, he blew
a low, shrill call. It was answered
from behind Dr. Seward's house
by the yelping of dogs, and after
about a minute three terriers
came dashing round the corner
of the house. Unconsciously we
had all moved towards the door,
and as we moved I noticed that
the dust had been much disturbed.
The boxes which had been taken
out had been brought this way.
But even in the minute that had
elapsed the number of the rats
had vastly increased. They seemed
to swarm over the place all at
once, till the lamplight, shining
on their moving dark bodies and
glittering, baleful eyes, made
the place look like a bank of
earth set with fireflies. The
dogs dashed on, but at the threshold
suddenly stopped and snarled,
and then,simultaneously lifting
their noses, began to howl in
most lugubrious fashion. The
rats were multiplying in thousands,
and we moved out.
Lord Godalming lifted one of
the dogs, and carrying him in,
placed him on the floor. The
instant his feet touched the
ground he seemed to recover his
courage, and rushed at his natural
enemies. They fled before him
so fast that before he had shaken
the life out of a score, the
other dogs, who had by now been
lifted in the same manner, had
but small prey ere the whole
mass had vanished.
With their going it seemed
as if some evil presence had
departed, for the dogs frisked
about and barked merrily as they
made sudden darts at their prostrate
foes, and turned them over and
over and tossed them in the air
with vicious shakes. We all seemed
to find our spirits rise. Whether
it was the purifying of the deadly
atmosphere by the opening of
the chapel door, or the relief
which we experienced by finding
ourselves in the open I know
not, but most certainly the shadow
of dread seemed to slip from
us like a robe, and the occasion
of our coming lost something
of its grim significance, though
we did not slacken a whit in
our resolution. We closed the
outer door and barred and locked
it, and bringing the dogs with
us, began our search of the house.
We found nothing throughout except
dust in extraordinary proportions,
and all untouched save for my
own footsteps when I had made
my first visit. Never once did
the dogs exhibit any symptom
of uneasiness, and even when
we returned to the chapel they
frisked about as though they
had been rabbit hunting in a
summer wood.
The morning was quickening
in the east when we emerged from
the front. Dr. Van Helsing had
taken the key of the hall door
from the bunch, and locked the
door in orthodox fashion, putting
the key into his pocket when
he had done.
"So far," he said, "our
night has been eminently successful.
No harm has come to us such as
I feared might be and yet we
have ascertained how many boxes
are missing. More than all do
I rejoice that this, our first,
and perhaps our most difficult
and dangerous, step has been
accomplished without the bringing
thereinto our most sweet Madam
Mina or troubling her waking
or sleeping thoughts with sights
and sounds and smells of horror
which she might never forget.
One lesson, too, we have learned,
if it be allowable to argue a
particulari, that the brute beasts
which are to the Count's command
are yet themselves not amenable
to his spiritual power, for look,
these rats that would come to
his call, just as from his castle
top he summon the wolves to your
going and to that poor mother's
cry, though they come to him,
they run pell-mell from the so
little dogs of my friend Arthur.
We have other matters before
us, other dangers, other fears,
and that monster . . . He has
not used his power over the brute
world for the only or the last
time tonight. So be it that he
has gone elsewhere. Good! It
has given us opportunity to cry
`check'in some ways in this chess
game, which we play for the stake
of human souls. And now let us
go home. The dawn is close at
hand, and we have reason to be
content with our first night's
work. It may be ordained that
we have many nights and days
to follow, if full of peril,
but we must go on, and from no
danger shall we shrink."
The house was silent when we
got back, save for some poor
creature who was screaming away
in one of the distant wards,
and a low, moaning sound from
Renfield's room. The poor wretch
was doubtless torturing himself,
after the manner of the insane,
with needless thoughts of pain.
I came tiptoe into our own
room, and found Mina asleep,
breathing so softly that I had
to put my ear down to hear it.
She looks paler than usual. I
hope the meeting tonight has
not upset her. I am truly thankful
that she is to be left out of
our future work, and even of
our deliberations. It is too
great a strain for a woman to
bear. I did not think so at first,
but I know better now. Therefore
I am glad that it is settled.
There may be things which would
frighten her to hear, and yet
to conceal them from her might
be worse than to tell her if
once she suspected that there
was any concealment. Henceforth
our work is to be a sealed book
to her, till at least such time
as we can tell her that all is
finished, and the earth free
from a monster of the nether
world. I daresay it will be difficult
to begin to keep silence after
such confidence as ours, but
I must be resolute, and tomorrow
I shall keep dark over tonight's
doings, and shall refuse to speak
of anything that has happened.
I rest on the sofa, so as not
to disturb her.
1 October, later.--I suppose
it was natural that we should
have all overslept ourselves,
for the day was a busy one, and
the night had no rest at all.
Even Mina must have felt its
exhaustion, for though I slept
till the sun was high, I was
awake before her, and had to
call two or three times before
she awoke. Indeed, she was so
sound asleep that for a few seconds
she did not recognize me, but
looked at me with a sort of blank
terror, as one looks who has
been waked out of a bad dream.
She complained a little of being
tired, and I let her rest till
later in the day. We now know
of twenty-one boxes having been
removed, and if it be that several
were taken in any of these removals
we may be able to trace them
all. Such will, of course, immensely
simplify our labor, and the sooner
the matter is attended to the
better. I shall look up Thomas
Snelling today.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
1 October.--It was towards
noon when I was awakened by the
Professor walking into my room.
He was more jolly and cheerful
than usual, and it is quite evident
that last night's work has helped
to take some of the brooding
weight off his mind.
After going
over the adventure of the night
he suddenly said, "Your
patient interests me much. May
it be that with you I visit him
this morning? Or if that you
are too occupy, I can go alone
if it may be. It is a new experience
to me to find a lunatic who talk
philosophy, and reason so sound."
I had some work to do which
pressed, so I told him that if
he would go alone I would be
glad, as then I should not have
to keep him waiting, so I called
an attendant and gave him the
necessary instructions. Before
the Professor left the room I
cautioned him against getting
any false impression from my
patient.
"But," he answered, "I
want him to talk of himself
and of
his delusion as to consuming
live things. He said to Madam
Mina, as I see in your diary
of yesterday, that he had once
had such a belief. Why do you
smile, friend John?"
"Excuse me," I said, "but the
answer is here." I laid my hand
on the typewritten matter."When
our sane and learned lunatic
made that very statement of how
he used to consume life, his
mouth was actually nauseous with
the flies and spiders which he
had eaten just before Mrs. Harker
entered the room."
Van Helsing
smiled in turn. "Good!" he
said. "Your memory is true, friend
John. I should have remembered.
And yet it is this very obliquity
of thought and memory which makes
mental disease such a fascinating
study. Perhaps I may gain more
knowledge out of the folly of
this madman than I shall from
the teaching of the most wise.
Who knows?"
I went on with my work, and
before long was through that
in hand. It seemed that the time
had been very short indeed, but
there was Van Helsing back in
the study.
"Do I interrupt?" he
asked politely as he stood
at the door.
"Not at all,"I answered. "Come
in. My work is finished, and
I am free. I can go with you
now, if you like."
"It is needless,
I have seen him!"
"Well?"
"I fear that he does not appraise
me at much. Our interview was
short. When I entered his room
he was sitting on a stool in
the center, with his elbows on
his knees, and his face was the
picture of sullen discontent.
I spoke to him as cheerfully
as I could, and with such a measure
of respect as I could assume.
He made no reply whatever. 'Don't
you know me?' I asked. His answer
was not reassuring. "I know you
well enough, you are the old
fool Van Helsing. I wish you
would take yourself and your
idiotic brain theories somewhere
else. Damn all thick-headed Dutchmen!'
Not a word more would he say,
but sat in his implacable sullenness
as indifferent to me as though
I had not been in the room at
all. Thus departed for this time
my chance of much learning from
this so clever lunatic, so I
shall go, if I may, and cheer
myself with a few happy words
with that sweet soul Madam Mina.
Friend John, it does rejoice
me unspeakable that she is no
more to be pained, no more to
be worried with our terrible
things. Though we shall much
miss her help, it is better so."
"I agree with you with all
my heart," I answered earnestly,
for I did not want him to weaken
in this matter. "Mrs. Harker
is better out of it. Things are
quite bad enough for us, all
men of the world, and who have
been in many tight places in
our time, but it is no place
for a woman, and if she had remained
in touch with the affair, it
would in time infallibly have
wrecked her."
So Van Helsing has gone to
confer with Mrs. Harker and Harker,
Quincey and Art are all out following
up the clues as to the earth
boxes. I shall finish my round
of work and we shall meet tonight.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
1 October.--It is strange to
me to be kept in the dark as
I am today, after Jonathan's
full confidence for so many years,
to see him manifestly avoid certain
matters, and those the most vital
of all. This morning I slept
late after the fatigues of yesterday,
and though Jonathan was late
too, he was the earlier. He spoke
to me before he went out, never
more sweetly or tenderly, but
he never mentioned a word of
what had happened in the visit
to the Count's house. And yet
he must have known how terribly
anxious I was. Poor dear fellow!
I suppose it must have distressed
him even more than it did me.
They all agreed that it was best
that I should not be drawn further
into this awful work, and I acquiesced.
But to think that he keeps anything
from me! And now I am crying
like a silly fool, when I know
it comes from my husband's great
love and from the good, good
wishes of those other strong
men.
That has done me good. Well,
some day Jonathan will tell me
all. And lest it should ever
be that he should think for a
moment that I kept anything from
him, I still keep my journal
as usual. Then if he has feared
of my trust I shall show it to
him, with every thought of my
heart put down for his dear eyes
to read. I feel strangely sad
and low-spirited today. I suppose
it is the reaction from the terrible
excitement.
Last night I went to bed when
the men had gone, simply because
they told me to. I didn't feel
sleepy, and I did feel full of
devouring anxiety. I kept thinking
over everything that has been
ever since Jonathan came to see
me in London, and it all seems
like a horrible tragedy, with
fate pressing on relentlessly
to some destined end. Everything
that one does seems, no matter
how right it me be, to bring
on the very thing which is most
to be deplored. If I hadn't gone
to Whitby, perhaps poor dear
Lucy would be with us now. She
hadn't taken to visiting the
churchyard till I came, and if
she hadn't come there in the
day time with me she wouldn't
have walked in her sleep. And
if she hadn't gone there at night
and asleep, that monster couldn't
have destroyed her as he did.
Oh, why did I ever go to Whitby?
There now, crying again! I wonder
what has come over me today.
I must hide it from Jonathan,
for if he knew that I had been
crying twice in one morning .
. . I, who never cried on my
own account, and whom he has
never caused to shed a tear,
the dear fellow would fret his
heart out. I shall put a bold
face on, and if I do feel weepy,
he shall never see it. I suppose
it is just one of the lessons
that we poor women have to learn
. . .
I can't quite remember how
I fell asleep last night. I remember
hearing the sudden barking of
the dogs and a lot of queer sounds,
like praying on a very tumultuous
scale, from Mr. Renfield's room,
which is somewhere under this.
And then there was silence over
everything, silence so profound
that it startled me, and I got
up and looked out of the window.
All was dark and silent, the
black shadows thrown by the moonlight
seeming full of a silent mystery
of their own. Not a thing seemed
to be stirring, but all to be
grim and fixed as death or fate,
so that a thin streak of white
mist,that crept with almost imperceptible
slowness across the grass towards
the house, seemed to have a sentience
and a vitality of its own. I
think that the digression of
my thoughts must have done me
good, for when I got back to
bed I found a lethargy creeping
over me. I lay a while, but could
not quite sleep, so I got out
and looked out of the window
again. The mist was spreading,
and was now close up to the house,
so that I could see it lying
thick against the wall, as though
it were stealing up to the windows.
The poor man was more loud than
ever, and though I could not
distinguish a word he said, I
could in some way recognize in
his tones some passionate entreaty
on his part. Then there was the
sound of a struggle, and I knew
that the attendants were dealing
with him. I was so frightened
that I crept into bed, and pulled
the clothes over my head, putting
my fingers in my ears. I was
not then a bit sleepy, at least
so I thought, but I must have
fallen asleep, for except dreams,
I do not remember anything until
the morning, when Jonathan woke
me. I think that it took me an
effort and a little time to realize
where I was, and that it was
Jonathan who was bending over
me. My dream was very peculiar,
and was almost typical of the
way that waking thoughts become
merged in, or continued in, dreams.
I thought that
I was asleep, and waiting for
Jonathan to come
back. I was very anxious about
him, and I was powerless to act,
my feet, and my hands, and my
brain were weighted, so that
nothing could proceed at the
usual pace. And so I slept uneasily
and thought. Then it began to
dawn upon me that the air was
heavy, and dank, and cold. I
put back the clothes from my
face, and found, to my surprise,
that all was dim around. The
gaslight which I had left lit
for Jonathan, but turned down,
came only like a tiny red spark
through the fog, which had evidently
grown thicker and poured into
the room. Then it occurred to
me that I had shut the window
before I had come to bed. I would
have got out to make certain
on the point, but some leaden
lethargy seemed to chain my limbs
and even my will. I lay still
and endured, that was all. I
closed my eyes, but could still
see through my eyelids. (It is
wonderful what tricks our dreams
play us, and how conveniently
we can imagine.) The mist grew
thicker and thicker and I could
see now how it came in, for I
could see it like smoke, or with
the white energy of boiling water,
pouring in, not through the window,
but through the joinings of the
door. It got thicker and thicker,
till it seemed as if it became
concentrated into a sort of pillar
of cloud in the room, through
the top of which I could see
the light of the gas shining
like a red eye. Things began
to whirl through my brain just
as the cloudy column was now
whirling in the room, and through
it all came the scriptural words "a
pillar of cloud by day and of
fire by night." Was it indeed
such spiritual guidance that
was coming to me in my sleep?
But the pillar was composed of
both the day and the night guiding,
for the fire was in the red eye,
which at the thought gat a new
fascination for me, till, as
I looked, the fire divided, and
seemed to shine on me through
the fog like two red eyes, such
as Lucy told me of in her momentary
mental wandering when, on the
cliff, the dying sunlight struck
the windows of St. Mary's Church.
Suddenly the horror burst upon
me that it was thus that Jonathan
had seen those awful women growing
into reality through the whirling
mist in the moonlight, and in
my dream I must have fainted,
for all became black darkness.
The last conscious effort which
imagination made was to show
me a livid white face bending
over me out of the mist.
I must be careful of such dreams,
for they would unseat one's reason
if there were too much of them.
I would get Dr. Van Helsing or
Dr. Seward to prescribe something
for me which would make me sleep,
only that I fear to alarm them.
Such a dream at the present time
would become woven into their
fears for me. Tonight I shall
strive hard to sleep naturally.
If I do not, I shall tomorrow
night get them to give me a dose
of chloral, that cannot hurt
me for once, and it will give
me a good night's sleep. Last
night tired me more than if I
had not slept at all.
2 October 10 p. m.--Last night
I slept, but did not dream. I
must have slept soundly, for
I was not waked by Jonathan coming
to bed, but the sleep has not
refreshed me, for today I feel
terribly weak and spiritless.
I spent all yesterday trying
to read, or lying down dozing.
In the afternon, Mr. Renfield
asked if he might see me.Poor
man, he was very gentle, and
when I came away he kissed my
hand and bade God bless me. Some
way it affected me much. I am
crying when I think of him. This
is a new weakness, of which I
must be careful. Jonathan would
be miserable if he knew I had
been crying. He and the others
were out till dinner time, and
they all came in tired. I did
what I could to brighten them
up, and I suppose that the effort
did me good, for I forgot how
tired I was. After dinner they
sent me to bed, and all went
off to smoke together, as they
said, but I knew that they wanted
to tell each other of what had
occurred to each during the day.
I could see from Jonathan's manner
that he had something important
to communicate. I was not so
sleepy as I should have been,
so before they went I asked Dr.
Seward to give me a little opiate
of some kind, as I had not slept
well the night before. He very
kindly made me up a sleeping
draught, which he gave to me,
telling me that it would do me
no harm, as it was very mild
. . . I have taken it, and am
waiting for sleep, which still
keeps aloof. I hope I have not
done wrong, for as sleep begins
to flirt with me, a new fear
comes, that I may have been foolish
in thus depriving myself of the
power of waking. I might want
it. Here comes sleep. Goodnight. |