MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
1 November.--All
day long we have travelled,
and at a good
speed. The horses seem to know
that they are being kindly treated,
for they go willingly their full
stage at best speed. We have
now had so many changes and find
the same thing so constantly
that we are encouraged to think
that the journey will be an easy
one. Dr. Van Helsing is laconic,
he tells the farmers that he
is hurrying to Bistritz, and
pays them well to make the exchange
of horses. We get hot soup, or
coffee, or tea, and off we go.
It is a lovely country. Full
of beauties of all imaginable
kinds, and the people are brave,
and strong, and simple, and seem
full of nice qualities. They
are very, very superstitious.
In the first house where we stopped,
when the woman who served us
saw the scar on my forehead,
she crossed herself and put out
two fingers towards me, to keep
off the evil eye. I believe they
went to the trouble of putting
an extra amount of garlic into
our food, and I can't abide garlic.
Ever since then I have taken
care not to take off my hat or
veil, and so have escaped their
suspicions. We are travelling
fast, and as we have no driver
with us to carry tales, we go
ahead of scandal. But I daresay
that fear of the evil eye will
follow hard behind us all the
way. The Professor seems tireless.
All day he would not take any
rest, though he made me sleep
for a long spell. At sunset time
he hypnotized me, and he says
I answered as usual,"darkness,
lapping water and creaking wood." So
our enemy is still on the river.
I am afraid to think of Jonathan,
but somehow I have now no fear
for him, or for myself. I write
this whilst we wait in a farmhouse
for the horses to be ready. Dr.
Van Helsing is sleeping. Poor
dear, he looks very tired and
old and grey, but his mouth is
set as firmly as a conqueror's.
Even in his sleep he is intense
with resolution. When we have
well started I must make him
rest whilst I drive. I shall
tell him that we have days before
us, and he must not break down
when most of all his strength
will be needed . . . All is ready.
We are off shortly.
2 November,
morning.--I was successful,
and we took turns
driving all night. Now the day
is on us, bright though cold.
There is a strange heaviness
in the air. I say heaviness for
want of a better word. I mean
that it oppresses us both. It
is very cold, and only our warm
furs keep us comfortable. At
dawn Van Helsing hypnotized me.
He says I answered "darkness,
creaking wood and roaring water," so
the river is changing as they
ascend. I do hope that my darling
will not run any chance of danger,
more than need be, but we are
in God's hands.
2 November, night.--All day
long driving. The country gets
wilder as we go, and the great
spurs of the Carpathians, which
at Veresti seemed so far from
us and so low on the horizon,
now seem to gather round us and
tower in front. We both seem
in good spirits. I think we make
an effort each to cheer the other,
in the doing so we cheer ourselves.
Dr. Van Helsing says that by
morning we shall reach the Borgo
Pass. The houses are very few
here now, and the Professor says
that the last horse we got will
have to go on with us, as we
may not be able to change. He
got two in addition to the two
we changed, so that now we have
a rude four-in-hand. The dear
horses are patient and good,
and they give us no trouble.
We are not worried with other
travellers, and so even I can
drive. We shall get to the Pass
in daylight. We do not want to
arrive before. So we take it
easy, and have each a long rest
in turn. Oh, what will tomorrow
bring to us? We go to seek the
place where my poor darling suffered
so much. God grant that we may
be guided aright, and that He
will deign to watch over my husband
and those dear to us both, and
who are in such deadly peril.
As for me, I am not worthy in
His sight. Alas! I am unclean
to His eyes, and shall be until
He may deign to let me stand
forth in His sight as one of
those who have not incurred His
wrath.
MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING
4 November.--This to my old
and true friend John Seward,
M. D., of Purefleet, London,
in case I may not see him. It
may explain. It is morning, and
I write by a fire which all the
night I have kept alive, Madam
Mina aiding me. It is cold, cold.
So cold that the grey heavy sky
is full of snow, which when it
falls will settle for all winter
as the ground is hardening to
receive it. It seems to have
affected Madam Mina. She has
been so heavy of head all day
that she was not like herself.
She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps!
She who is usual so alert, have
done literally nothing all the
day. She even have lost her appetite.
She make no entry into her little
diary, she who write so faithful
at every pause. Something whisper
to me that all is not well. However,
tonight she is more vif. Her
long sleep all day have refresh
and restore her, for now she
is all sweet and bright as ever.
At sunset I try to hypnotize
her, but alas! with no effect.
The power has grown less and
less with each day, and tonight
it fail me altogether. Well,
God's will be done, whatever
it may be, and whithersoever
it may lead!
Now to the historical, for
as Madam Mina write not in her
stenography, I must, in my cumbrous
old fashion, that so each day
of us may not go unrecorded.
We got to the
Borgo Pass just after sunrise
yesterday morning.
When I saw the signs of the dawn
I got ready for the hypnotism.
We stopped our carriage, and
got down so that there might
be no disturbance. I made a couch
with furs, and Madam Mina, lying
down, yield herself as usual,
but more slow and more short
time than ever, to the hypnotic
sleep. As before, came the answer, "darkness
and the swirling of water." Then
she woke, bright and radiant
and we go on our way and soon
reach the Pass. At this time
and place, she become all on
fire with zeal. Some new guiding
power be in her manifested, for
she point to a road and say, "This
is the way."
"How know you it?" I
ask.
"Of course I know it,' she
answer, and with a pause, add, "Have
not my Jonathan travelled it
and wrote of his travel?"
At first I think somewhat strange,
but soon I see that there be
only one such byroad. It is used
but little, and very different
from the coach road from the
Bukovina to Bistritz, which is
more wide and hard, and more
of use.
So we came down this road.
When we meet other ways, not
always were we sure that they
were roads at all, for they be
neglect and light snow have fallen,
the horses know and they only.
I give rein to them, and they
go on so patient. By and by we
find all the things which Jonathan
have note in that wonderful diary
of him. Then we go on for long,
long hours and hours. At the
first, I tell Madam Mina to sleep.
She try, and she succeed. She
sleep all the time, till at the
last, I feel myself to suspicious
grow, and attempt to wake her.
But she sleep on, and I may not
wake her though I try. I do not
wish to try too hard lest I harm
her. For I know that she have
suffer much, and sleep at times
be all-in-all to her. I think
I drowse myself, for all of sudden
I feel guilt, as though I have
done something. I find myself
bolt up, with the reins in my
hand, and the good horses go
along jog, jog, just as ever.
I look down and find Madam Mina
still asleep. It is now not far
off sunset time, and over the
snow the light of the sun flow
in big yellow flood, so that
we throw great long shadow on
where the mountain rise so steep.
For we are going up, and up,
and all is oh, so wild and rocky,
as though it were the end of
the world.
Then I arouse Madam Mina. This
time she wake with not much trouble,
and then I try to put her to
hypnotic sleep. But she sleep
not, being as though I were not.
Still I try and try, till all
at once I find her and myself
in dark, so I look round, and
find that the sun have gone down.
Madam Mina laugh, and I turn
and look at her. She is now quite
awake, and look so well as I
never saw her since that night
at Carfax when we first enter
the Count's house. I am amaze,
and not at ease then. But she
is so bright and tender and thoughtful
for me that I forget all fear.
I light a fire, for we have brought
supply of wood with us, and she
prepare food while I undo the
horses and set them, tethered
in shelter, to feed. Then when
I return to the fire she have
my supper ready. I go to help
her, but she smile, and tell
me that she have eat already.
That she was so hungry that she
would not wait. I like it not,
and I have grave doubts. But
I fear to affright her, and so
I am silent of it. She help me
and I eat alone, and then we
wrap in fur and lie beside the
fire, and I tell her to sleep
while I watch. But presently
I forget all of watching. And
when I sudden remember that I
watch, I find her lying quiet,
but awake, and looking at me
with so bright eyes. Once, twice
more the same occur, and I get
much sleep till before morning.
When I wake I try to hypnotize
her, but alas! Though she shut
her eyes obedient, she may not
sleep. The sun rise up, and up,
and up, and then sleep come to
her too late, but so heavy that
she will not wake. I have to
lift her up, and place her sleeping
in the carriage when I have harnessed
the horses and made all ready.
Madam still sleep, and she look
in her sleep more healthy and
more redder than before. And
I like it not. And I am afraid,
afraid, afraid! I am afraid of
all things, even to think but
I must go on my way. The stake
we play for is life and death,
or more than these, and we must
not flinch.
5 November, morning.--Let me
be accurate in everything, for
though you and I have seen some
strange things together, you
may at the first think that I,
Van Helsing, am mad. That the
many horrors and the so long
strain on nerves has at the last
turn my brain.
All yesterday
we travel, always getting closer
to the mountains,
and moving into a more and more
wild and desert land. There are
great, frowning precipices and
much falling water, and Nature
seem to have held sometime her
carnival. Madam Mina still sleep
and sleep. And though I did have
hunger and appeased it, I could
not waken her, even for food.
I began to fear that the fatal
spell of the place was upon her,
tainted as she is with that Vampire
baptism. "Well," said I to myself, "if
it be that she sleep all the
day, it shall also be that I
do not sleep at night." As we
travel on the rough road, for
a road of an ancient and imperfect
kind there was, I held down my
head and slept.
Again I waked with a sense
of guilt and of time passed,
and found Madam Mina still sleeping,
and the sun low down. But all
was indeed changed. The frowning
mountains seemed further away,
and we were near the top of a
steep rising hill, on summit
of which was such a castle as
Jonathan tell of in his diary.
At once I exulted and feared.
For now, for good or ill, the
end was near.
I woke Madam Mina, and again
tried to hypnotize her, but alas!
unavailing till too late. Then,
ere the great dark came upon
us, for even after down sun the
heavens reflected the gone sun
on the snow, and all was for
a time in a great twilight. I
took out the horses and fed them
in what shelter I could. Then
I make a fire, and near it I
make Madam Mina, now awake and
more charming than ever, sit
comfortable amid her rugs. I
got ready food, but she would
not eat, simply saying that she
had not hunger. I did not press
her, knowing her unavailingness.
But I myself eat, for I must
needs now be strong for all.
Then, with the fear on me of
what might be, I drew a ring
so big for her comfort, round
where Madam Mina sat. And over
the ring I passed some of the
wafer, and I broke it fine so
that all was well guarded. She
sat still all the time, so still
as one dead. And she grew whiter
and even whiter till the snow
was not more pale, and no word
she said. But when I drew near,
she clung to me, and I could
know that the poor soul shook
her from head to feet with a
tremor that was pain to feel.
I said to her
presently, when she had grown
more quiet, "Will
you not come over to the fire?" for
I wished to make a test of what
she could. She rose obedient,
but when she have made a step
she stopped, and stood as one
stricken.
"Why not go on?" I asked. She
shook her head, and coming back,
sat down in her place. Then,
looking at me with open eyes,
as of one waked from sleep, she
said simply,"I cannot!" and remained
silent. I rejoiced, for I knew
that what she could not, none
of those that we dreaded could.
Though there might be danger
to her body, yet her soul was
safe!
Presently the horses began
to scream, and tore at their
tethers till I came to them and
quieted them. When they did feel
my hands on them, they whinnied
low as in joy,and licked at my
hands and were quiet for a time.
Many times through the night
did I come to them, till it arrive
to the cold hour when all nature
is at lowest, and every time
my coming was with quiet of them.
In the cold hour the fire began
to die, and I was about stepping
forth to replenish it, for now
the snow came in flying sweeps
and with it a chill mist. Even
in the dark there was a light
of some kind, as there ever is
over snow, and it seemed as though
the snow flurries and the wreaths
of mist took shape as of women
with trailing garments. All was
in dead, grim silence only that
the horses whinnied and cowered,
as if in terror of the worst.
I began to fear, horrible fears.
But then came to me the sense
of safety in that ring wherein
I stood. I began too, to think
that my imaginings were of the
night, and the gloom, and the
unrest that I have gone through,
and all the terrible anxiety.
It was as though my memories
of all Jonathan's horrid experience
were befooling me. For the snow
flakes and the mist began to
wheel and circle round, till
I could get as though a shadowy
glimpse of those women that would
have kissed him. And then the
horses cowered lower and lower,
and moaned in terror as men do
in pain. Even the madness of
fright was not to them, so that
they could break away. I feared
for my dear Madam Mina when these
weird figures drew near and circled
round. I looked at her, but she
sat calm, and smiled at me. When
I would have stepped to the fire
to replenish it, she caught me
and held me back, and whispered,
like a voice that one hears in
a dream, so low it was.
"No! No! Do
not go without. Here you are
safe!"
I turned to
her, and looking in her eyes
said, "But you? It
is for you that I fear!"
Whereat she
laughed, a laugh low and unreal,
and said, "Fear
for me! Why fear for me? None
safer in all the world from them
than I am,"and as I wondered
at the meaning of her words,
a puff of wind made the flame
leap up, and I see the red scar
on her forehead. Then, alas!
I knew. Did I not, I would soon
have learned, for the wheeling
figures of mist and snow came
closer, but keeping ever without
the Holy circle. Then they began
to materialize till, if God have
not taken away my reason, for
I saw it through my eyes. There
were before me in actual flesh
the same three women that Jonathan
saw in the room, when they would
have kissed his throat. I knew
the swaying round forms, the
bright hard eyes, the white teeth,
the ruddy color, the voluptuous
lips. They smiled ever at poor
dear Madam Mina. And as their
laugh came through the silence
of the night, they twined their
arms and pointed to her, and
said in those so sweet tingling
tones that Jonathan said were
of the intolerable sweetness
of the water glasses, "Come,
sister. Come to us. Come!"
In fear I turned to my poor
Madam Mina, and my heart with
gladness leapt like flame. For
oh! the terror in her sweet eyes,
the repulsion, the horror, told
a story to my heart that was
all of hope. God be thanked she
was not, yet of them. I seized
some of the firewood which was
by me, and holding out some of
the Wafer, advanced on them towards
the fire. They drew back before
me, and laughed their low horrid
laugh. I fed the fire, and feared
them not. For I knew that we
were safe within the ring, which
she could not leave no more than
they could enter. The horses
had ceased to moan, and lay still
on the ground. The snow fell
on them softly, and they grew
whiter. I knew that there was
for the poor beasts no more of
terror.
And so we remained till the
red of the dawn began to fall
through the snow gloom. I was
desolate and afraid, and full
of woe and terror. But when that
beautiful sun began to climb
the horizon life was to me again.
At the first coming of the dawn
the horrid figures melted in
the whirling mist and snow. The
wreaths of transparent gloom
moved away towards the castle,
and were lost.
Instinctively, with the dawn
coming, I turned to Madam Mina,
intending to hypnotize her. But
she lay in a deep and sudden
sleep, from which I could not
wake her. I tried to hypnotize
through her sleep, but she made
no response, none at all, and
the day broke. I fear yet to
stir. I have made my fire and
have seen the horses, they are
all dead. Today I have much to
do here, and I keep waiting till
the sun is up high. For there
may be places where I must go,
where that sunlight, though snow
and mist obscure it, will be
to me a safety.
I will strengthen me with breakfast,
and then I will do my terrible
work. Madam Mina still sleeps,
and God be thanked! She is calm
in her sleep . . .
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL
4 November, evening.--The accident
to the launch has been a terrible
thing for us. Only for it we
should have overtaken the boat
long ago, and by now my dear
Mina would have been free. I
fear to think of her, off on
the wolds near that horrid place.
We have got horses, and we follow
on the track. I note this whilst
Godalming is getting ready. We
have our arms. The Szgany must
look out if they mean to fight.
Oh, if only Morris and Seward
were with us. We must only hope!
If I write no more Goodby Mina!
God bless and keep you.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
5 November.--With the dawn
we saw the body of Szgany before
us dashing away from the river
with their leiter wagon. They
surrounded it in a cluster, and
hurried along as though beset.
The snow is falling lightly and
there is a strange excitement
in the air. It may be our own
feelings, but the depression
is strange. Far off I hear the
howling of wolves. The snow brings
them down from the mountains,
and there are dangers to all
of us, and from all sides. The
horses are nearly ready, and
we are soon off. We ride to death
of some one. God alone knows
who, or where, or what, or when,
or how it may be . . .
DR. VAN HELSING'S MEMORANDUM
5 November, afternoon.--I am
at least sane. Thank God for
that mercy at all events, though
the proving it has been dreadful.
When I left Madam Mina sleeping
within the Holy circle, I took
my way to the castle. The blacksmith
hammer which I took in the carriage
from Veresti was useful, though
the doors were all open I broke
them off the rusty hinges, lest
some ill intent or ill chance
should close them, so that being
entered I might not get out.
Jonathan's bitter experience
served me here. By memory of
his diary I found my way to the
old chapel, for I knew that here
my work lay. The air was oppressive.
It seemed as if there was some
sulphurous fume, which at times
made me dizzy. Either there was
a roaring in my ears or I heard
afar off the howl of wolves.
Then I bethought me of my dear
Madam Mina, and I was in terrible
plight. The dilemma had me between
his horns.
Her, I had not dare to take
into this place, but left safe
from the Vampire in that Holy
circle. And yet even there would
be the wolf! I resolve me that
my work lay here, and that as
to the wolves we must submit,
if it were God's will. At any
rate it was only death and freedom
beyond. So did I choose for her.
Had it but been for myself the
choice had been easy, the maw
of the wolf were better to rest
in than the grave of the Vampire!
So I make my choice to go on
with my work.
I knew that there were at least
three graves to find, graves
that are inhabit. So I search,
and search, and I find one of
them. She lay in her Vampire
sleep, so full of life and voluptuous
beauty that I shudder as though
I have come to do murder. Ah,
I doubt not that in the old time,
when such things were, many a
man who set forth to do such
a task as mine, found at the
last his heart fail him, and
then his nerve. So he delay,
and delay, and delay, till the
mere beauty and the fascination
of the wanton Undead have hypnotize
him. And he remain on and on,
till sunset come, and the Vampire
sleep be over. Then the beautiful
eyes of the fair woman open and
look love, and the voluptuous
mouth present to a kiss, and
the man is weak. And there remain
one more victim in the Vampire
fold. One more to swell the grim
and grisly ranks of the Undead!
. . .
There is some fascination,
surely, when I am moved by the
mere presence of such an one,
even lying as she lay in a tomb
fretted with age and heavy with
the dust of centuries, though
there be that horrid odor such
as the lairs of the Count have
had. Yes, I was moved. I, Van
Helsing, with all my purpose
and with my motive for hate.
I was moved to a yearning for
delay which seemed to paralyze
my faculties and to clog my very
soul. It may have been that the
need of natural sleep, and the
strange oppression of the air
were beginning to overcome me.
Certain it was that I was lapsing
into sleep, the open eyed sleep
of one who yields to a sweet
fascination, when there came
through the snow stilled air
a long, low wail, so full of
woe and pity that it woke me
like the sound of a clarion.
For it was the voice of my dear
Madam Mina that I heard.
Then I braced myself again
to my horrid task, and found
by wrenching away tomb tops one
other of the sisters, the other
dark one. I dared not pause to
look on her as I had on her sister,
lest once more I should begin
to be enthrall. But I go on searching
until, presently, I find in a
high great tomb as if made to
one much beloved that other fair
sister which, like Jonathan I
had seen to gather herself out
of the atoms of the mist. She
was so fair to look on, so radiantly
beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous,
that the very instinct of man
in me, which calls some of my
sex to love and to protect one
of hers, made my head whirl with
new emotion. But God be thanked,
that soul wail of my dear Madam
Mina had not died out of my ears.
And, before the spell could be
wrought further upon me, I had
nerved myself to my wild work.
By this tim e I had searched
all the tombs in the chapel,
so far as I could tell. And as
there had been only three of
these Undead phantoms around
us in the night, I took it that
there were no more of active
Undead existent. There was one
great tomb more lordly than all
the rest. Huge it was, and nobly
proportioned. On it was but one
word.
DRACULA
This then was the Undead home
of the King Vampire, to whom
so many more were due. Its emptiness
spoke eloquent to make certain
what I knew. Before I began to
restore these women to their
dead selves through my awful
work, I laid in Dracula's tomb
some of the Wafer, and so banished
him from it, Undead, for ever.
Then began my terrible task,
and I dreaded it. Had it been
but one, it had been easy, comparative.
But three! To begin twice more
after I had been through a deed
of horror. For it was terrible
with the sweet Miss Lucy, what
would it not be with these strange
ones who had survived through
centuries, and who had been strenghtened
by the passing of the years.
Who would, if they could, have
fought for their foul lives .
. .
Oh, my friend
John, but it was butcher work.
Had I not been
nerved by thoughts of other dead,
and of the living over whom hung
such a pall of fear, I could
not have gone on. I tremble and
tremble even yet, though till
all was over, God be thanked,
my nerve did stand. Had I not
seen the repose in the first
place, and the gladness that
stole over it just ere the final
dissolution came, as realization
that the soul had been won, I
could not have gone further with
my butchery. I could not have
endured the horrid screeching
as the stake drove home, the
plunging of writhing form, and
lips of bloody foam. I should
have fled in terror and left
my work undone. But it is over!
And the poor souls, I can pity
them now and weep, as I think
of them placid each in her full
sleep of death for a short moment
ere fading. For, friend John,
hardly had my knife severed the
head of each, before the whole
body began to melt away and crumble
into its native dust, as though
the death that should have come
centuries agone had at last assert
himself and say at once and loud,"I
am here!"
Before I left the castle I
so fixed its entrances that never
more can the Count enter there
Undead.
When I stepped into the circle
where Madam Mina slept, she woke
from her sleep and, seeing me,
cried out in pain that I had
endured too much.
"Come!" she said, "come away
from this awful place! Let us
go to meet my husband who is,
I know, coming towards us." She
was looking thin and pale and
weak. But her eyes were pure
and glowed with fervor. I was
glad to see her paleness and
her illness, for my mind was
full of the fresh horror of that
ruddy vampire sleep.
And so with trust and hope,
and yet full of fear, we go eastward
to meet our friends, and him,
whom Madam Mina tell me that
she know are coming to meet us.
MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
6 November.--It was late in
the afternoon when the Professor
and I took our way towards the
east whence I knew Jonathan was
coming. We did not go fast, though
the way was steeply downhill,
for w e had to take heavy rugs
and wraps with us. We dared not
face the possibility of being
left without warmth in the cold
and the snow. We had to take
some of our provisions too, for
we were in a perfect desolation,
and so far as we could see through
the snowfall, there was not even
the sign of habitation. When
we had gone about a mile, I was
tired with the heavy walking
and sat down to rest. Then we
looked back and saw where the
clear line of Dracula's castle
cut the sky. For we were so deep
under the hill whereon it was
set that the angle of perspective
of the Carpathian mountains was
far below it. We saw it in all
its grandeur, perched a thousand
feet on the summit of a sheer
precipice, and with seemingly
a great gap between it and the
steep of the adjacent mountain
on any side. There was something
wild and uncanny about the place.
We could hear the distant howling
of wolves. They were far off,
but the sound, even though coming
muffled through the deadening
snowfall, was full of terror.
I knew from the way Dr. Van Helsing
was searching about that he was
trying to seek some strategic
point, where we would be less
exposed in case of attack. The
rough roadway still led downwards.
We could trace it through the
drifted snow.
In a little while the Professor
signalled to me, so I got up
and joined him. He had found
a wonderful spot, a sort of natural
hollow in a rock, with an entrance
like a doorway between two boulders.
He took me by the hand and drew
me in.
"See!" he said,"here
you will be in shelter. And
if the wolves
do come I can meet them one by
one."
He brought in our furs, and
made a snug nest for me, and
got out some provisions and forced
them upon me. But I could not
eat, to even try to do so was
repulsive to me, and much as
I would have liked to please
him, I could not bring myself
to the attempt. He looked very
sad, but did not reproach me.
Taking his field glasses from
the case, he stood on the top
of the rock, and began to search
the horizon.
Suddenly he
called out, "Look!
Madam Mina, look!Look!"
I sprang up and stood beside
him on the rock. He handed me
his glasses and pointed. The
snow was now falling more heavily,
and swirled about fiercely, for
a high wind was beginning to
blow. However, there were times
when there were pauses between
the snow flurries and I could
see a long way round. From the
height where we were it was possible
to see a great distance. And
far off, beyond the white waste
of snow, I could see the river
lying like a black ribbon in
kinks and curls as it wound its
way. Straight in front of us
and not far off, in fact so near
that I wondered we had not noticed
before, came a group of mounted
men hurrying along. In the midst
of them was a cart, a long leiter
wagon which swept from side to
side, like a dog's tail wagging,
with each stern inequality of
the road. Outlined against the
snow as they were, I could see
from the men's clothes that they
were peasants or gypsies of some
kind.
On the cart was a great square
chest. My heart leaped as I saw
it, for I felt that the end was
coming. The evening was now drawing
close, and well I knew that at
sunset the Thing, which was till
then imprisoned there, would
take new freedom and could in
any of many forms elude pursuit.
In fear I turned to the Professor.
To my consternation, however,
he was not there. An instant
later, I saw him below me. Round
the rock he had drawn a circle,
such as we had found shelter
in last night.
When he had
completed it he stood beside
me again saying, "At
least you shall be safe here
from him!" He took the glasses
from me, and at the next lull
of the snow swept the whole space
below us. "See,"he said,"they
come quickly. They are flogging
the horses, and galloping as
hard as they can."
He paused and
went on in a hollow voice, "They are racing
for the sunset. We may be too
late. God's will be done!" Down
came another blinding rush of
driving snow, and the whole landscape
was blotted out. It soon passed,
however, and once more his glasses
were fixed on the plain.
Then came a
sudden cry, "Look!
Look! Look! See, two horsemen
follow fast, coming up from the
south. It must be Quincey and
John. Take the glass. Look before
the snow blots it all out!" I
took it and looked. The two men
might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris.
I knew at all events that neither
of them was Jonathan. At the
same time I knew that Jonathan
was not far off. Looking around
I saw on the north side of the
coming party two other men, riding
at breakneck speed. One of them
I knew was Jonathan, and the
other I took, of course, to be
Lord Godalming. They too, were
pursuing the party with the cart.
When I told the Professor he
shouted in glee like a schoolboy,
and after looking intently till
a snow fall made sight impossible,
he laid his Winchester rifle
ready for use against the boulder
at the opening of our shelter.
"They are all converging," he
said."When the time comes we
shall have gypsies on all sides." I
got out my revolver ready to
hand, for whilst we were speaking
the howling of wolves came louder
and closer. When the snow storm
abated a moment we looked again.
It was strange to see the snow
falling in such heavy flakes
close to us, and beyond, the
sun shining more and more brightly
as it sank down towards the far
mountain tops. Sweeping the glass
all around us I could see here
and there dots moving singly
and in twos and threes and larger
numbers. The wolves were gathering
for their prey.
Every instant seemed an age
whilst we waited. The wind came
now in fierce bursts, and the
snow was driven with fury as
it swept upon us in circling
eddies. At times we could not
see an arm's length before us.
But at others, as the hollow
sounding wind swept by us, it
seemed to clear the air space
around us so that we could see
afar off. We had of late been
so accustomed to watch for sunrise
and sunset, that we knew with
fair accuracy when it would be.
And we knew that before long
the sun would set. It was hard
to believe that by our watches
it was less than an hour that
we waited in that rocky shelter
before the various bodies began
to converge close upon us. The
wind came now with fiercer and
more bitter sweeps, and more
steadily from the north. It seemingly
had driven the snow clouds from
us, for with only occasional
bursts, the snow fell. We could
distinguish clearly the individuals
of each party, the pursued and
the pursuers. Strangely enough
those pursued did not seem to
realize, or at least to care,
that they were pursued. They
seemed, however, to hasten with
redoubled speed as the sun dropped
lower and lower on the mountain
tops.
Closer and closer they drew.
The Professor and I crouched
down behind our rock, and held
our weapons ready. I could see
that he was determined that they
should not pass. One and all
were quite unaware of our presence.
All at once
two voices shouted out to, "Halt!" One
was my Jonathan's, raised in
a high key of passion.
The other Mr. Morris' strong
resolute tone of quiet command.
The gypsies may not have known
the language, but there was no
mistaking the tone, in whatever
tongue the words were spoken.
Instinctively they reined in,
and at the instant Lord Godalming
and Jonathan dashed up at one
side and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris
on the other. The leader of the
gypsies, a splendid looking fellow
who sat his horse like a centaur,
waved them back, and in a fierce
voice gave to his companions
some word to proceed. They lashed
the horses which sprang forward.
But the four men raised their
Winchester rifles, and in an
unmistakable way commanded them
to stop. At the same moment Dr.
Van Helsing and I rose behind
the rock and pointed our weapons
at them. Seeing that they were
surrounded the men tightened
their reins and drew up. The
leader turned to them and gave
a word at which every man of
the gypsy party drew what weapon
he carried, knife or pistol,and
held himself in readiness to
attack. Issue was joined in an
instant.
The leader, with a quick movement
of his rein, threw his horse
out in front, and pointed first
to the sun, now close down on
the hill tops, and then to the
castle, said something which
I did not understand. For answer,
all four men of our party threw
themselves from their horses
and dashed towards the cart.
I should have felt terrible fear
at seeing Jonathan in such danger,
but that the ardor of battle
must have been upon me as well
as the rest of them. I felt no
fear, but only a wild, surging
desire to do something. Seeing
the quick movement of our parties,
the leader of the gypsies gave
a command. His men instantly
formed round the cart in a sort
of undisciplined endeavor, each
one shouldering and pushing the
other in his eagerness to carry
out the order.
In the midst of this I could
see that Jonathan on one side
of the ring of men, and Quincey
on the other, were forcing a
way to the cart. It was evident
that they were bent on finishing
their task before the sun should
set. Nothing seemed to stop or
even to hinder them.Neither the
levelled weapons nor the flashing
knives of the gypsies in front,
nor the howling of the wolves
behind, appeared to even attract
their attention. Jonathan's impetuosity,
and the manifest singleness of
his purpose, seemed to overawe
those in front of him. Instinctively
they cowered aside and let him
pass. In an instant he had jumped
upon the cart, and with a strength
which seemed incredible, raised
the great box, and flung it over
the wheel to the ground. In the
meantime, Mr. Morris had had
to use force to pass through
his side of the ring of Szgany.
All the time I had been breathlessly
watching Jonathan I had, with
the tail of my eye, seen him
pressing desperately forward,
and had seen the knives of the
gypsies flash as he won a way
through them, and they cut at
him. He had parried with his
great bowie knife, and at first
I thought that he too had come
through in safety. But as he
sprang beside Jonathan, who had
by now jumped from the cart,
I could see that with his left
hand he was clutching at his
side, and that the blood was
spurting through his fingers.
He did not delay notwithstanding
this, for as Jonathan, with desperate
energy, attacked one end of the
chest, attempting to prize off
the lid with his great Kukri
knife, he attacked the other
frantically with his bowie. Under
the efforts of both men the lid
began to yield. The nails drew
with a screeching sound, and
the top of the box was thrown
back.
By this time the gypsies, seeing
themselves covered by the Winchesters,
and at the mercy of Lord Godalming
and Dr. Seward, had given in
and made no further resistance.
The sun was almost down on the
mountain tops, and the shadows
of the whole group fell upon
the snow. I saw the Count lying
within the box upon the earth,
some of which the rude falling
from the cart had scattered over
him. He was deathly pale, just
like a waxen image, and the red
eyes glared with the horrible
vindictive look which I knew
so well.
As I looked, the eyes saw the
sinking sun, and the look of
hate in them turned to triumph.
But, on the instant, came the
sweep and flash of Jonathan's
great knife. I shrieked as I
saw it shear through the throat.
Whilst at the same moment Mr.
Morris's bowie knife plunged
into the heart.
It was like a miracle, but
before our very eyes, and almost
in the drawing of a breath, the
whole body crumbled into dust
and passed from our sight.
I shall be glad as long as
I live that even in that moment
of final dissolution, there was
in the face a look of peace,
such as I never could have imagined
might have rested there.
The Castle of Dracula now stood
out against the red sky, and
every stone of its broken battlements
was articulated against the light
of the setting sun.
The gypsies, taking us as in
some way the cause of the extraordinary
disappearance of the dead man,
turned, without a word, and rode
away as if for their lives. Those
who were unmounted jumped upon
the leiter wagon and shouted
to the horsemen not to desert
them. The wolves, which had withdrawn
to a safe distance, followed
in their wake, leaving us alone.
Mr. Morris, who had sunk to
the ground, leaned on his elbow,
holding his hand pressed to his
side. The blood still gushed
through his fingers. I flew to
him, for the Holy circle did
not now keep me back, so did
the two doctors. Jonathan knelt
behind him and the wounded man
laid back his head on his shoulder.
With a sigh he took, with a feeble
effort, my hand in that of his
own which was unstained.
He must have
seen the anguish of my heart
in my face, for he
smiled at me and said, "I am
only too happy to have been of
service! Oh, God!" he cried suddenly,
struggling to a sitting posture
and pointing to me. "It was worth
for this to die! Look! Look!"
The sun was
now right down upon the mountain
top, and the
red gleams fell upon my face,
so that it was bathed in rosy
light. With one impulse the men
sank on their knees and a deep
and earnest "Amen" broke from
all as their eyes followed the
pointing of his finger.
The dying man
spoke, "Now God
be thanked that all has not been
in vain! See! The snow is not
more stainless than her forehead!
The curse has passed away!"
And, to our bitter grief, with
a smile and in silence, he died,
a gallant gentleman.
NOTE
Seven years ago we all went
through the flames. And the happiness
of some of us since then is,
we think, well worth the pain
we endured. It is an added joy
to Mina and to me that our boy's
birthday is the same day as that
on which Quincey Morris died.
His mother holds, I know, the
secret belief that some of our
brave friend's spirit has passed
into him. His bundle of names
links all our little band of
men together. But we call him
Quincey.
In the summer of this year
we made a journey to Transylvania,
and went over the old ground
which was, and is, to us so full
of vivid and terrible memories.
It was almost impossible to believe
that the things which we had
seen with our own eyes and heard
with our own ears were living
truths. Every trace of all that
had been was blotted out. The
castle stood as before, reared
high above a waste of desolation.
When we got home we were talking
of the old time, which we could
all look back on without despair,
for Godalming and Seward are
both happily married. I took
the papers from the safe where
they had been ever since our
return so long ago. We were struck
with the fact, that in all the
mass of material of which the
record is composed, there is
hardly one authentic document.
Nothing but a mass of typewriting,
except the later notebooks of
Mina and Seward and myself, and
Van Helsing's memorandum. We
could hardly ask any one, even
did we wish to, to accept these
as proofs of so wild a story.
Van Helsing summed it all up
as he said, with our boy on his
knee.
"We want no
proofs. We ask none to believe
us! This boy
will some day know what a brave
and gallant woman his mother
is. Already he knows her sweetness
and loving care. Later on he
will understand how some men
so loved her, that they did dare
much for her sake.
JONATHAN HARKER |