DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
18 September.--I
drove at once to Hillingham
and arrived early.
Keeping my cab at the gate, I
went up the avenue alone. I knocked
gently and rang as quietly as
possible, for I feared to disturb
Lucy or her mother, and hoped
to only bring a servant to the
door. After a while, finding
no response, I knocked and rang
again, still no answer. I cursed
the laziness of the servants
that they should lie abed at
such an hour, for it was now
ten o'clock, and so rang and
knocked again, but more impatiently,
but still without response. Hitherto
I had blamed only the servants,
but now a terrible fear began
to assail me. Was this desolation
but another link in the chain
of doom which seemed drawing
tight round us? Was it indeed
a house of death to which I had
come, too late? I know that minutes,
even seconds of delay, might
mean hours of danger to Lucy,
if she had had again one of those
frightful relapses, and I went
round the house to try if I could
find by chance an entry anywhere.
I could find no means of ingress.
Every window and door was fastened
and locked, and I returned baffled
to the porch. As I did so, I
heard the rapid pit-pat of a
swiftly driven horse's feet.
They stopped at the gate, and
a few seconds later I met Van
Helsing running up the avenue.
When he saw me, he gasped out, "Then
it was you, and just arrived.
How is she? Are we too late?
Did you not get my telegram?"
I answered
as quickly and coherently as
I could that I had only got
his telegram early in the morning,
and had not a minute in coming
here, and that I could not make
any one in the house hear me.
He paused and raised his hat
as he said solemnly, "Then I
fear we are too late. God's will
be done!"
With his usual
recuperative energy, he went
on, "Come. If
there be no way open to get in,
we must make one. Time is all
in all to us now."
We went round to the back of
the house, where there was a
kitchen window. The Professor
took a small surgical saw from
his case, and handing it to me,
pointed to the iron bars which
guarded the window. I attacked
them at once and had very soon
cut through three of them. Then
with a long, thin knife we pushed
back the fastening of the sashes
and opened the window. I helped
the Professor in, and followed
him. There was no one in the
kitchen or in the servants' rooms,
which were close at hand. We
tried all the rooms as we went
along, and in the dining room,
dimly lit by rays of light through
the shutters, found four servant
women lying on the floor. There
was no need to think them dead,
for their stertorous breathing
and the acrid smell of laudanum
in the room left no doubt as
to their condition.
Van Helsing
and I looked at each other,
and as we moved away
he said, "We can attend to them
later."Then we ascended to Lucy's
room. For an instant or two we
paused at the door to listen,
but there was no sound that we
could hear. With white faces
and trembling hands, we opened
the door gently, and entered
the room.
How shall I
describe what we saw? On the
bed lay two women,
Lucy and her mother. The latter
lay farthest in, and she was
covered with a white sheet, the
edge of which had been blown
back by the drought through the
broken window, showing the drawn,
white, face, with a look of terror
fixed upon it. By her side lay
Lucy, with face white and still
more drawn. The flowers which
had been round her neck we found
upon her mother's bosom, and
her throat was bare, showing
the two little wounds which we
had noticed before, but looking
horribly white and mangled. Without
a word the Professor bent over
the bed, his head almost touching
poor Lucy's breast. Then he gave
a quick turn of his head, as
of one who listens, and leaping
to his feet, he cried out to
me, "It is not yet too late!
Quick! Quick! Bring the brandy!"
I flew downstairs
and returned with it, taking
care to smell
and taste it, lest it, too, were
drugged like the decanter of
sherry which I found on the table.
The maids were still breathing,
but more restlessly, and I fancied
that the narcotic was wearing
off. I did not stay to make sure,
but returned to Van Helsing.
He rubbed the brandy, as on another
occasion, on her lips and gums
and on her wrists and the palms
of her hands. He said to me, "I
can do this, all that can be
at the present. You go wake those
maids. Flick them in the face
with a wet towel, and flick them
hard. Make them get heat and
fire and a warm bath. This poor
soul is nearly as cold as that
beside her. She will need be
heated before we can do anything
more."
I went at once, and found little
difficulty in waking three of
the women. The fourth was only
a young girl, and the drug had
evidently affected her more strongly
so I lifted her on the sofa and
let her sleep.
The others were dazed at first,
but as remembrance came back
to them they cried and sobbed
in a hysterical manner. I was
stern with them, however, and
would not let them talk. I told
them that one life was bad enough
to lose, and if they delayed
they would sacrifice Miss Lucy.
So, sobbing and crying they went
about their way, half clad as
they were, and prepared fire
and water. Fortunately, the kitchen
and boiler fires were still alive,
and there was no lack of hot
water. We got a bath and carried
Lucy out as she was and placed
her in it. Whilst we were busy
chafing her limbs there was a
knock at the hall door. One of
the maids ran off, hurried on
some more clothes, and opened
it. Then she returned and whispered
to us that there was a gentleman
who had come with a message from
Mr. Holmwood. I bade her simply
tell him that he must wait, for
we could see no one now. She
went away with the message, and,
engrossed with our work, I clean
forgot all about him.
I never saw in all my experience
the Professor work in such deadly
earnest. I knew, as he knew,
that it was a stand-up fight
with death, and in a pause told
him so. He answered me in a way
that I did not understand, but
with the sternest look that his
face could wear.
"If that were all, I would
stop here where we are now, and
let her fade away into peace,
for I see no light in life over
her horizon." He went on with
his work with, if possible, renewed
and more frenzied vigour.
Presently we
both began to be conscious
that the heat was
beginning to be of some effect.
Lucy's heart beat a trifle more
audibly to the stethoscope, and
her lungs had a perceptible movement.
Van Helsing's face almost beamed,
and as we lifted her from the
bath and rolled her in a hot
sheet to dry her he said to me, "The
first gain is ours! Check to
the King!"
We took Lucy into another room,
which had by now been prepared,
and laid her in bed and forced
a few drops of brandy down her
throat. I noticed that Van Helsing
tied a soft silk handkerchief
round her throat. She was still
unconscious, and was quite as
bad as, if not worse than, we
had ever seen her.
Van Helsing called in one of
the women, and told her to stay
with her and not to take her
eyes off her till we returned,
and then beckoned me out of the
room.
"We must consult as to what
is to be done," he said as we
descended the stairs. In the
hall he opened the dining room
door, and we passed in, he closing
the door carefully behind him.
The shutters had been opened,
but the blinds were already down,
with that obedience to the etiquette
of death which the British woman
of the lower classes always rigidly
observes. The room was, therefore,
dimly dark. It was, however,
light enough for our purposes.
Van Helsing's sternness was somewhat
relieved by a look of perplexity.
He was evidently torturing his
mind about something, so I waited
for an instant, and he spoke.
"What are we
to do now? Where are we to
turn for help? We must
have another transfusion of blood,
and that soon, or that poor girl's
life won't be worth an hour's
purchase. You are exhausted already.
I am exhausted too. I fear to
trust those women, even if they
would have courage to submit.
What are we to do for some one
who will open his veins for her?"
"What's the
matter with me, anyhow?"
The voice came from the sofa
across the room, and its tones
brought relief and joy to my
heart, for they were those of
Quincey Morris.
Van Helsing
started angrily at the first
sound, but his face
softened and a glad look came
into his eyes as I cried out, "Quincey
Morris!" and rushed towards him
with outstretched hands.
"What brought you her?" I
cried as our hands met.
"I guess Art
is the cause."
He handed me a telegram.--
`Have not heard from Seward for
three days, and am terribly anxious.
Cannot leave. Father still in
same condition. Send me word
how Lucy is. Do not delay.--Holmwood.'
"I think I
came just in the nick of time.
You know you have
only to tell me what to do."
Van Helsing
strode forward, and took his
hand, looking him
straight in the eyes as he said, "A
brave man's blood is the best
thing on this earth when a woman
is in trouble. You're a man and
no mistake. Well, the devil may
work against us for all he's
worth, but God sends us men when
we want them."
Once again we went through
that ghastly operation. I have
not the heart to go through with
the details. Lucy had got a terrible
shock and it told on her more
than before, for though plenty
of blood went into her veins,
her body did not respond to the
treatment as well as on the other
occasions. Her struggle back
into life was something frightful
to see and hear. However, the
action of both heart and lungs
improved, and Van Helsing made
a sub-cutaneous injection of
morphia, as before, and with
good effect. Her faint became
a profound slumber. The Professor
watched whilst I went downstairs
with Quincey Morris, and sent
one of the maids to pay off one
of the cabmen who were waiting.
I left Quincey
lying down after having a glass
of wine, and told
the cook to get ready a good
breakfast. Then a thought struck
me, and I went back to the room
where Lucy now was. When I came
softly in, I found Van Helsing
with a sheet or two of note paper
in his hand. He had evidently
read it, and was thinking it
over as he sat with his hand
to his brow. There was a look
of grim satisfaction in his face,
as of one who has had a doubt
solved. He handed me the paper
saying only, "It dropped from
Lucy's breast when we carried
her to the bath."
When I had
read it, I stook looking at
the Professor, and
after a pause asked him, "In
God's name, what does it all
mean? Was she, or is she, mad,
or what sort of horrible danger
is it?" I was so bewildered that
I did not know what to say more.
Van Helsing put out his hand
and took the paper, saying,
"Do not trouble about it now.
Forget if for the present. You
shall know and understand it
all in good time, but it will
be later. And now what is it
that you came to me to say?" This
brought me back to fact, and
I was all myself again.
"I came to
speak about the certificate
of death. If we do
not act properly and wisely,
there may be an inquest, and
that paper would have to be produced.
I am in hopes that we need have
no inquest, for if we had it
would surely kill poor Lucy,
if nothing else did. I know,
and you know, and the other doctor
who attended her knows, that
Mrs. Westenra had disease of
the heart, and we can certify
that she died of it. Let us fill
up the certificate at once, and
I shall take it myself to the
registrar and go on to the undertaker."
"Good, oh my
friend John! Well thought of!
Truly Miss Lucy,
if she be sad in the foes that
beset her, is at least happy
in the friends thatlove her.
One, two, three, all open their
veins for her, besides one old
man. Ah, yes, I know, friend
John. I am not blind! I love
you all the more for it! Now
go."
In the hall
I met Quincey Morris, with
a telegram for Arthur telling
him that Mrs. Westenra was dead,
that Lucy also had been ill,
but was now going on better,
and that Van Helsing and I were
with her. I told him where I
was going, and he hurried me
out, but as I was going said, "When
you come back, Jack, may I have
two words with you all to ourselves?" I
nodded in reply and went out.
I found no difficulty about the
registration, and arranged with
the local undertaker to come
up in the evening to measure
for the coffin and to make arrangements.
When I got back Quincey was
waiting for me. I told him I
would see him as soon as I knew
about Lucy, and went up to her
room. She was still sleeping,
and the Professor seemingly had
not moved from his seat at her
side. From his putting his finger
to his lips, I gathered that
he expected her to wake before
long and was afraid of fore-stalling
nature. So I went down to Quincey
and took him into the breakfast
room, where the blinds were not
drawn down, and which was a little
more cheerful, or rather less
cheerless, than the other rooms.
When we were
alone, he said to me, "Jack
Seward, I don't want to shove
myself in anywhere
where I've no right to be, but
this is no ordinary case. You
know I loved that girl and wanted
to marry her, but although that's
all past and gone, I can't help
feeling anxious about her all
the same. What is it that's wrong
with her? The Dutchman, and a
fine old fellow is is, I can
see that, said that time you
two came into the room, that
you must have another transfusion
of blood, and that both you and
he were exhausted. Now I know
well that you medical men speak
in camera, and that a man must
not expect to know what they
consult about in private. But
this is no common matter, and
whatever it is, I have done my
part. Is not that so?"
"That's so," I
said, and he went on.
"I take it
that both you and Van Helsing
had done already
what I did today. Is not that
so?"
"That's so."
"And I guess
Art was in it too. When I saw
him four days
ago down at his own place he
looked queer. I have not seen
anything pulled down so quick
since I was on the Pampas and
had a mare that I was fond of
go to grass all in a night. One
of those big bats that they call
vampires had got at her in the
night, and what with his gorge
and the vein left open, there
wasn't enough blood in her to
let her stand up, and I had to
put a bullet through her as she
lay. Jack, if you may tell me
without betraying confidence,
Arthur was the first, is not
that so?"
As he spoke the poor fellow
looked terribly anxious. He was
in a torture of suspense regarding
the woman he loved, and his utter
ignorance of the terrible mystery
which seemed to surround her
intensified his pain. His very
heart was bleeding, and it took
all the manhood of him, and there
was a royal lot of it, too, to
keep him from breaking down.
I paused before answering, for
I felt that I must not betray
anything which the Professor
wished kept secret, but already
he knew so much, and guessed
so much, that there could be
no reason for not answering,
so I answered in the same phrase.
"That's so."
"And how long
has this been going on?"
"About ten
days."
"Ten days! Then I guess, Jack
Seward, that that poor pretty
creature that we all love has
had put into her veins within
that time the blood of four strong
men. Man alive, her whole body
wouldn't hold it." Then coming
close to me, he spoke in a fierce
half-whisper. "What took it out?"
I shook my
head. "That," I
said, "is the crux. Van Helsing
is simply frantic about it, and
I am at my wits' end. I can't
even hazard a guess. There has
been a series of little circumstances
which have thrown out all our
calculations as to Lucy being
properly watched. But these shall
not occur again. Here we stay
until all be well, or ill."
Quincey held
out his hand. "Count
me in," he said. "You and the
Dutchman will tell me what to
do, and I'll do it."
When she woke late in the afternoon,
Lucy's first movement was to
feel in her breast, and to my
surprise, produced the paper
which Van Helsing had given me
to read. The careful Professor
had replaced it where it had
come from, lest on waking she
should be alarmed. Her eyes then
lit on Van Helsing and on me
too, and gladdened. Then she
looked round the room, and seeing
where she was, shuddered. She
gave a loud cry, and put her
poor thin hands before her pale
face.
We both understood what was
meant, that she had realized
to the full her mother's death.
So we tried what we could to
comfort her. Doubtless sympathy
eased her somewhat, but she was
very low in thought and spirit,
and wept silently and weakly
for a long time. We told her
that either or both of us would
now remain with her all the time,
and that seemed to comfort her.
Towards dusk she fell into a
doze. Here a very odd thing occurred.
Whilst still asleep she took
the paper from her breast and
tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped
over and took the pieces from
her. All the same, however, she
went on with the action of tearing,
as though the material were still
in her hands. Finally she lifted
her hands and opened them as
though scattering the fragments.
Van Helsing seemed surprised,
and his brows gathered as if
in thought, but he said nothing.
19 September.--All last night
she slept fitfully, being always
afraid to sleep, and something
weaker when she woke from it.
The Professor and I took in turns
to watch, and we never left her
for a moment unattended. Quincey
Morris said nothing about his
intention, but I knew that all
night long he patrolled round
and round the house.
When the day came, its searching
light showed the ravages in poor
Lucy's strength. She was hardly
able to turn her head, and the
little nourishment which she
could take seemed to do her no
good. At times she slept, and
both Van Helsing and I noticed
the difference in her, between
sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep
she looked stronger, although
more haggard, and her breathing
was softer. Her open mouth showed
the pale gums drawn back from
the teeth, which looked positively
longer and sharper than usual.
When she woke the softness of
her eyes evidently changed the
expression, for she looked her
own self, although a dying one.
In the afternoon she asked for
Arthur, and we telegraphed for
him. Quincey went off to meet
him at the station.
When he arrived it was nearly
six o'clock, and the sun was
setting full and warm, and the
red light streamed in through
the window and gave more color
to the pale cheeks. When he saw
her, Arthur was simply choking
with emotion, and none of us
could speak. In the hours that
had passed, the fits of sleep,
or the comatose condition that
passed for it, had grown more
frequent, so that the pauses
when conversation was possible
were shortened. Arthur's presence,
however, seemed to act as a stimulant.
She rallied a little, and spoke
to him more brightly than she
had done since we arrived. He
too pulled himself together,
and spoke as cheerily as he could,
so that the best was made of
everything.
It is now nearly one o'clock,
and he and Van Helsing are sitting
with her. I am to relieve them
in a quarter of an hour, and
I am entering this on Lucy's
phonograph. Until six o'clock
they are to try to rest. I fear
that tomorrow will end our watching,
for the shock has been too great.
The poor child cannot rally.
God help us all.
LETTER MINA HARKER TO LUCY
WESTENRA
(Unopened by her)
17 September
My dearest Lucy,
"It seems an
age since I heard from you,
or indeed since I wrote.
You will pardon me, I know, for
all my faults when you have read
all my budget of news. Well,
I got my husband back all right.
When we arrived at Exeter there
was a carriage waiting for us,
and in it, though he had an attack
of gout, Mr. Hawkins. He took
us to his house, where there
were rooms for us all nice and
comfortable, and we dined together.
After dinner Mr. Hawkins said,
" `My dears,
I want to drink your health
and prosperity, and
may every blessing attend you
both. I know you both from children,
and have, with love and pride,
seen you grow up. Now I want
you to make your home here with
me. I have left to me neither
chick nor child. All are gone,
and in my will I have left you
everything.' I cried, Lucy dear,
as Jonathan and the old man clasped
hands. Our evening was a very,
very happy one.
"So here we
are, installed in this beautiful
old house,
and from both my bedroom and
the drawing room I can see the
great elms of the cathedral close,
with their great black stems
standing out against the old
yellow stone of the cathedral,
and I can hear the rooks overhead
cawing and cawing and chattering
and chattering and gossiping
all day, after the manner of
rooks--and humans. I am busy,
I need not tell you, arranging
things and housekeeping. Jonathan
and Mr. Hawkins are busy all
day, for now that Jonathan is
a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants
to tell him all about the clients.
"How is your dear mother getting
on? I wish I could run up to
town for a day or two to see
you, dear, but I, dare not go
yet, with so much on my shoulders,
and Jonathan wants looking after
still. He is beginning to put
some flesh on his bones again,
but he was terribly weakened
by the long illness. Even now
he sometimes starts out of his
sleep in a sudden way and awakes
all trembling until I can coax
him back to his usual placidity.
However, thank God, these occasions
grow less frequent as the days
go on, and they will in time
pass away altogether, I trust.
And now I have told you my news,
let me ask yours. When are you
to be married, and where, and
who is to perform the ceremony,
and what are you to wear, and
is it to be a public or private
wedding? Tell me all about it,
dear, tell me all about everything,
for there is nothing which interests
you which will not be dear to
me. Jonathan asks me to send
his `respectful duty', but I
do not think that is good enough
from the junior partner of the
important firm Hawkins & Harker.
And so, as you love me, and he
loves me, and I love you with
all the moods and tenses of the
verb, I send you simply his `love'
instead. Goodbye, my dearest
Lucy, and blessings on you." Yours,
Mina Harker
REPORT FROM PATRICK HENNESSEY,
MD, MRCSLK, QCPI, ETC, ETC, TO
JOHN SEWARD, MD
20 September
My dear Sir:
"In accordance
with your wishes, I enclose
report of the conditions
of everything left in my charge.
With regard to patient, Renfield,
there is more to say. He has
had another outbreak, which might
have had a dreadful ending, but
which, as it fortunately happened,
was unattended with any unhappy
results. This afternoon a carrier's
cart with two men made a call
at the empty house whose grounds
abut on ours, the house to which,
you will remember, the patient
twice ran away. The men stopped
at our gate to ask the porter
their way, as they were strangers.
"I was myself
looking out of the study window,
having a smoke
after dinner, and saw one of
them come up to the house. As
he passed the window of Renfield's
room, the patient began to rate
him from within, and called him
all the foul names he could lay
his tongue to. The man, who seemed
a decent fellow enough, contented
himself by telling him to `shut
up for a foul-mouthed beggar',whereon
our man accused him of robbing
him and wanting to murder him
and said that he would hinder
him if he were to swing for it.
I opened the window and signed
to the man not to notice, so
he contented himself after looking
the place over and making up
his mind as to what kind of place
he had got to by saying, `Lor'
bless yer, sir, I wouldn't mind
what was said to me in a bloomin'
madhouse. I pity ye and the guv'nor
for havin' to live in the house
with a wild beast like that.'
"Then he asked
his way civilly enough, and
I told him where
the gate of the empty house was.
He went away followed by threats
and curses and revilings from
our man. I went down to see if
I could make out any cause for
his anger, since he is usually
such a well-behaved man, and
except his violent fits nothing
of the kind had ever occurred.
I found him, to my astonishment,
quite composed and most genial
in his manner. I tried to get
him to talk of the incident,
but he blandly asked me questions
as to what I meant, and led me
to believe that he was completely
oblivious of the affair. It was,
I am sorry to say, however, only
another instance of his cunning,
for within half an hour I heard
of him again. This time he had
broken out through the window
of his room, and was running
down the avenue. I called to
the attendants to follow me,
and ran after him, for I feared
he was intent on some mischief.
My fear was justified when I
saw the same cart which had passed
before coming down the road,
having on it some great wooden
boxes. The men were wiping their
foreheads, and were flushed in
the face, as if with violent
exercise. Before I could get
up to him, the patient rushed
at them, and pulling one of them
off the cart, began to knock
his head against the ground.
If I had not seized him just
at the moment, I believe he would
have killed the man there and
then. The other fellow jumped
down and struck him over the
head with the butt end of his
heavy whip. It was a horrible
blow, but he did not seem to
mind it, but seized him also,
and struggled with the three
of us, pulling us to and fro
as if we were kittens. You know
I am no lightweight, and the
others were both burly men. At
first he was silent in his fighting,
but as we began to master him,
and the attendants were putting
a strait waistcoat on him, he
began to shout, `I'll frustrate
them! They shan't rob me!They
shan't murder me by inches! I'll
fight for my Lord and Master!'and
all sorts of similar incoherent
ravings. It was with very considerable
difficulty that they got him
back to the house and put him
in the padded room. One of the
attendants, Hardy, had a finger
broken. However, I set it all
right, and he is going on well.
"The two carriers were at first
loud in their threats of actions
for damages, and promised to
rain all the penalties of the
law on us. Their threats were,
however, mingled with some sort
of indirect apology for the defeat
of the two of them by a feeble
madman. They said that if it
had not been for the way their
strength had been spent in carrying
and raising the heavy boxes to
the cart they would have made
short work of him. They gave
as another reason for their defeat
the extraordinary state of drouth
to which they had been reduced
by the dusty nature of their
occupation and the reprehensible
distance from the scene of their
labors of any place of public
entertainment. I quite understood
their drift, and after a stiff
glass of strong grog, or rather
more of the same, and with each
a sovereign in hand, they made
light of the attack, and swore
that they would encounter a worse
madman any day for the pleasure
of meeting so `bloomin' good
a bloke' as your correspondent.
I took their names and addresses,
in case they might be needed.
They are as follows: Jack Smollet,
of Dudding's Rents, King George's
Road, Great Walworth, and Thomas
Snelling, Peter Farley's Row,
Guide Court, Bethnal Green. They
are both in the employment of
Harris & Sons, Moving and Shipment
Company, Orange Master's Yard,
Soho.
"I shall report
to you any matter of interest
occurring
here, and shall wire you at once
if there is anything of importance.
"Believe me,
dear Sir,
"Yours faithfully,
"Patrick Hennessey."
LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY
WESTENRA (Unopened by her)
18 September
"My dearest
Lucy,
"Such a sad
blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins
has died very
suddenly. Some may not think
it so sad for us, but we had
both come to so love him that
it really seems as though we
had lost a father. I never knew
either father or mother, so that
the dear old man's death is a
real blow to me. Jonathan is
greatly distressed. It is not
only that he feels sorrow, deep
sorrow, for the dear,good man
who has befriended him all his
life, and now at the end has
treated him like his own son
and left him a fortune which
to people of our modest bringing
up is wealth beyond the dream
of avarice, but Jonathan feels
it on another account. He says
the amount of responsibility
which it puts upon him makes
him nervous. He begins to doubt
himself. I try to cheer him up,
and my belief in him helps him
to have a belief in himself.
But it is here that the grave
shock that he experienced tells
upon him the most. Oh, it is
too hard that a sweet, simple,
noble, strong nature such as
his, a nature which enabled him
by our dear, good friend's aid
to rise from clerk to master
in a few years, should be so
injured that the very essence
of its strength is gone. Forgive
me, dear, if I worry you with
my troubles in the midst of your
own happiness, but Lucy dear,
I must tell someone, for the
strain of keeping up a brave
and cheerful appearance to Jonathan
tries me, and I have no one here
that I can confide in. I dread
coming up to London, as we must
do that day after tomorrow, for
poor Mr. Hawkins left in his
will that he was to be buried
in the grave with his father.
As there are no relations at
all, Jonathan will have to be
chief mourner. I shall try to
run over to see you, dearest,
if only for a few minutes. Forgive
me for troubling you. With all
blessings,
"Your loving
Mina Harker" DR.
SEWARD' DIARY
20 September.--Only resolution
and habit can let me make an
entry tonight. I am too miserable,
too low spirited, too sick of
the world and all in it, including
life itself, that I would not
care if I heard this moment the
flapping of the wings of the
angel of death. And he has been
flapping those grim wings to
some purpose of late, Lucy's
mother and Arthur's father, and
now . . .Let me get on with my
work.
I duly relieved Van Helsing
in his watch over Lucy. We wanted
Arthur to go to rest also, but
he refused at first. It was only
when I told him that we should
want him to help us during the
day, and that we must not all
break down for want of rest,
lest Lucy should suffer, that
he agreed to go.
Van Helsing
was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said. "Come
with me. You are sick and weak,
and have had much sorrow and
much mental pain, as well as
that tax on your strength that
we know of. You must not be alone,
for to be alone is to be full
of fears and alarms. Come to
the drawing room, where there
is a big fire, and there are
two sofas. You shall lie on one,
and I on the other, and our sympathy
will be comfort to each other,
even though we do not speak,
and even if we sleep."
Arthur went off with him, casting
back a longing look on Lucy's
face, which lay in her pillow,
almost whiter than the lawn.
She lay quite still, and I looked
around the room to see that all
was as it should be. I could
see that the Professor had carried
out in this room, as in the other,
his purpose of using the garlic.
The whole of the window sashes
reeked with it, and round Lucy's
neck, over the silk handkerchief
which Van Helsing made her keep
on, was a rough chaplet of the
same odorous flowers.
Lucy was breathing somewhat
stertorously, and her face was
at its worst, for the open mouth
showed the pale gums. Her teeth,
in the dim, uncertain light,
seemed longer and sharper than
they had been in the morning.
In particular, by some trick
of the light, the canine teeth
looked longer and sharper than
the rest.
I sat down beside her, and
presently she moved uneasily.
At the same moment there came
a sort of dull flapping or buffeting
at the window. I went over to
it softly, and peeped out by
the corner of the blind. There
was a full moonlight, and I could
see that the noise was made by
a great bat, which wheeled around,
doubtless attracted by the light,
although so dim, and every now
and again struck the window with
its wings. When I came back to
my seat, I found that Lucy had
moved slightly, and had torn
away the garlic flowers from
her throat. I replaced them as
well as I could, and sat watching
her.
Presently she woke, and I gave
her food, as Van Helsing had
prescribed. She took but a little,
and that languidly. There did
not seem to be with her now the
unconscious struggle for life
and strength that had hitherto
so marked her illness. It struck
me as curious that the moment
she became conscious she pressed
the garlic flowers close to her.
It was certainly odd that whenever
she got into that lethargic state,
with the stertorous breathing,
she put the flowers from her,
but that when she waked she clutched
them close, There was no possibility
of making amy mistake about this,
for in the long hours that followed,
she had many spells of sleeping
and waking and repeated both
actions many times.
At six o'clock
Van Helsing came to relieve
me. Arthur had
then fallen into a doze, and
he mercifully let him sleep on.
When he saw Lucy's face I could
hear the sissing indraw of breath,
and he said to me in a sharp
whisper."Draw up the blind. I
want light!" Then he bent down,
and, with his face almost touching
Lucy's, examined her carefully.
He removed the flowers and lifted
the silk handkerchief from her
throat. As he did so he started
back and I could hear his ejaculation, "Mein
Gott!" as it was smothered in
his throat. I bent over and looked,
too, and as I noticed some queer
chill came over me. The wounds
on the throat had absolutely
disappeared.
For fully five
minutes Van Helsing stood looking
at her,
with his face at its sternest.
Then he turned to me and said
calmly, "She is dying. It will
not be long now. It will be much
difference, mark me, whether
she dies conscious or in her
sleep. Wake that poor boy, and
let him come and see the last.
He trusts us, and we have promised
him."
I went to the
dining room and waked him.
He was dazed for a
moment, but when he saw the sunlight
streaming in through the edges
of the shutters he thought he
was late, and expressed his fear.
I assured him that Lucy was still
asleep, but told him as gently
as i could that both Van Helsing
and I feared that the end was
near. He covered his face with
his hands, and slid down on his
knees by the sofa, where he remained,
perhaps a minute, with his head
buried, praying, whilst his shoulders
shook with grief. I took him
by the hand and raised him up. "Come," I
said, "my dear old fellow, summon
all your fortitude. It will be
best and easiest for her."
When we came
into Lucy's room I could see
that Van Helsing
had, with his usual forethought,
been putting matters straight
and making everything look as
pleasing as possible. He had
even brushed Lucy's hair, so
that it lay on the pillow in
its usual sunny ripples. When
we came into the room she opened
her eyes, and seeing him, whispered
softly, "Arthur! Oh, my love,
I am so glad you have come!"
He was stooping
to kiss her, when Van Helsing
motioned him
back. "No," he whispered, "not
yet! Hold her hand, it will comfort
her more."
So Arthur took her hand and
knelt beside her, and she looked
her best, with all the soft lines
matching the angelic beauty of
her eyes. Then gradually her
eyes closed, and she sank to
sleep. For a little bit her breast
heaved softly, and her breath
came and went like a tired child's.
And then insensibly
there came the strange change
which I had
noticed in the night. Her breathing
grew stertorous, the mouth opened,
and the pale gums, drawn back,
made the teeth look longer and
sharper than ever. In a sort
of sleepwaking, vague, unconscious
way she opened her eyes, which
were now dull and hard at once,
and said in a soft,voluptuous
voice, such as I had never heard
from her lips, "Arthur! Oh, my
love, I am so glad you have come!
Kiss me!"
Arthur bent
eagerly over to kiss her, but
at that instant
Van Helsing, who, like me, had
been startled by her voice, swooped
upon him, and catching him by
the neck with both hands, dragged
him back with a fury of strength
which I never thought he could
have possessed, and actually
hurled him almost across the
room. "Not on your life!" he
said, "not for your living soul
and hers!" And he stood between
them like a lion at bay.
Arthur was so taken aback that
he did not for a moment know
what to do or say, and before
any impulse of violence could
seize him he realized the place
and the occasion, and stood silent,
waiting.
I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy,
as did Van Helsing, and we saw
a spasm as of rage flit like
a shadow over her face. The sharp
teeth clamped together. Then
her eyes closed, and she breathed
heavily.
Very shortly
after she opened her eyes in
all their softness,
and putting out her poor, pale,
thin hand, took Van Helsing's
great brown one, drawing it close
to her, she kissed it. "My true
friend," she said, in a faint
voice, but with untellable pathos, "My
true friend, and his! Oh, guard
him, and give me peace!"
"I swear it!" he said solemnly,
kneeling beside her and holding
up his hand, as one who registers
an oath. Then he turned to Arthur,
and said to him, "Come, my child,
take her hand in yours, and kiss
her on the forehead, and only
once."
Their eyes met instead of their
lips, and so they parted. Lucy's
eyes closed, and Van Helsing,
who had been watching closely,
took Arthur's arm, and drew him
away.
And then Lucy's breathing became
stertorous again, and all at
once it ceased.
"It is all over," said Van
Helsing. "She is dead!"
I took Arthur by the arm, and
led him away to the drawing room,
where he sat down, and covered
his face with his hands, sobbing
in a way that nearly broke me
down to see.
I went back to the room, and
found Van Helsing looking at
poor Lucy, and his face was sterner
than eve. Some change had come
over her body. Death had given
back part of her beauty, for
her brow and cheeks had recovered
some of their flowing lines.
Even the lips had lost their
deadly pallor. It was as if the
blood, no longer needed for the
working of the heart, had gone
to make the harshness of death
as little rude as might be.
"We thought
her dying whilst she slept,
And sleeping when
she died."
I stood beside
Van Helsing, and said, "Ah
well, poor girl, there is peace
for her at last.
It is the end!"
He turned to
me, and said with grave solemnity,"Not
so, alas! Not so. It is only
the beginning!"
When I asked
him what he meant, he only
shook his head and answered, "We
can do nothing as yet. Wait and
see." |