3 October.—As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary.
It is now six o’clock, and we are to meet in the study in half an
hour and take something to eat, for Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward
are agreed that if we do not eat we cannot work our best. Our best
will be, God knows, required today. I must keep writing at every
chance, for I dare not stop to think. All, big and little, must go
down. Perhaps at the end the little things may teach us most. The
teaching, big or little, could not have landed Mina or me anywhere
worse than we are today. However, we must trust and hope. Poor Mina
told me just now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks, that
it is in trouble and trial that our faith is tested. That we must
keep on trusting, and that God will aid us up to the end. The end!
Oh my God! What end? … To work! To work!
When Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward had come back from seeing
poor Renfield, we went gravely into what was to be done. First, Dr.
Seward told us that when he and Dr. Van Helsing had gone down to
the room below they had found Renfield lying on the floor, all in a
heap. His face was all bruised and crushed in, and the bones of the
neck were broken.
Dr. Seward asked the attendant who was on duty in the passage if
he had heard anything. He said that he had been sitting down, he
confessed to half dozing, when he heard loud voices in the room,
and then Renfield had called out loudly several times, “God! God!
God!” After that there was a sound of falling, and when he entered
the room he found him lying on the floor, face down, just as the
doctors had seen him. Van Helsing asked if he had heard “voices” or
“a voice,” and he said he could not say. That at first it had
seemed to him as if there were two, but as there was no one in the
room it could have been only one. He could swear to it, if
required, that the word “God” was spoken by the patient.
Dr. Seward said to us, when we were alone, that he did not wish
to go into the matter. The question of an inquest had to be
considered, and it would never do to put forward the truth, as no
one would believe it. As it was, he thought that on the attendant’s
evidence he could give a certificate of death by misadventure in
falling from bed. In case the coroner should demand it, there would
be a formal inquest, necessarily to the same result.
When the question began to be discussed as to what should be our
next step, the very first thing we decided was that Mina should be
in full confidence. That nothing of any sort, no matter how
painful, should be kept from her. She herself agreed as to its
wisdom, and it was pitiful to see her so brave and yet so
sorrowful, and in such a depth of despair.
“There must be no concealment,” she said. “Alas! We have had too
much already. And besides there is nothing in all the world that
can give me more pain than I have already endured, than I suffer
now! Whatever may happen, it must be of new hope or of new courage
to me!”
Van Helsing was looking at her fixedly as she spoke, and said,
suddenly but quietly, “But dear Madam Mina, are you not afraid. Not
for yourself, but for others from yourself, after what has
happened?”
Her face grew set in its lines, but her eyes shone with the
devotion of a martyr as she answered, “Ah no! For my mind is made
up!”
“To what?” he asked gently, whilst we were all very still, for
each in our own way we had a sort of vague idea of what she
meant.
Her answer came with direct simplicity, as though she was simply
stating a fact, “Because if I find in myself, and I shall watch
keenly for it, a sign of harm to any that I love, I shall die!”
“You would not kill yourself?” he asked, hoarsely.
“I would. If there were no friend who loved me, who would save
me such a pain, and so desperate an effort!” She looked at him
meaningly as she spoke.
He was sitting down, but now he rose and came close to her and
put his hand on her head as he said solemnly. “My child, there is
such an one if it were for your good. For myself I could hold it in
my account with God to find such an euthanasia for you, even at
this moment if it were best. Nay, were it safe! But my child …
”
For a moment he seemed choked, and a great sob rose in his
throat. He gulped it down and went on, “There are here some who
would stand between you and death. You must not die. You must not
die by any hand, but least of all your own. Until the other, who
has fouled your sweet life, is true dead you must not die. For if
he is still with the quick Undead, your death would make you even
as he is. No, you must live! You must struggle and strive to live,
though death would seem a boon unspeakable. You must fight Death
himself, though he come to you in pain or in joy. By the day, or
the night, in safety or in peril! On your living soul I charge you
that you do not die. Nay, nor think of death, till this great evil
be past.”
The poor dear grew white as death, and shook and shivered, as I
have seen a quicksand shake and shiver at the incoming of the tide.
We were all silent. We could do nothing. At length she grew more
calm and turning to him said sweetly, but oh so sorrowfully, as she
held out her hand, “I promise you, my dear friend, that if God will
let me live, I shall strive to do so. Till, if it may be in His
good time, this horror may have passed away from me.”
She was so good and brave that we all felt that our hearts were
strengthened to work and endure for her, and we began to discuss
what we were to do. I told her that she was to have all the papers
in the safe, and all the papers or diaries and phonographs we might
hereafter use, and was to keep the record as she had done before.
She was pleased with the prospect of anything to do, if “pleased”
could be used in connection with so grim an interest.
As usual Van Helsing had thought ahead of everyone else, and was
prepared with an exact ordering of our work.
“It is perhaps well,” he said, “that at our meeting after our
visit to Carfax we decided not to do anything with the earth boxes
that lay there. Had we done so, the Count must have guessed our
purpose, and would doubtless have taken measures in advance to
frustrate such an effort with regard to the others. But now he does
not know our intentions. Nay, more, in all probability, he does not
know that such a power exists to us as can sterilize his lairs, so
that he cannot use them as of old.
“We are now so much further advanced in our knowledge as to
their disposition that, when we have examined the house in
Piccadilly, we may track the very last of them. Today then, is
ours, and in it rests our hope. The sun that rose on our sorrow
this morning guards us in its course. Until it sets tonight, that
monster must retain whatever form he now has. He is confined within
the limitations of his earthly envelope. He cannot melt into thin
air nor disappear through cracks or chinks or crannies. If he go
through a doorway, he must open the door like a mortal. And so we
have this day to hunt out all his lairs and sterilize them. So we
shall, if we have not yet catch him and destroy him, drive him to
bay in some place where the catching and the destroying shall be,
in time, sure.”
Here I started up for I could not contain myself at the thought
that the minutes and seconds so preciously laden with Mina’s life
and happiness were flying from us, since whilst we talked action
was impossible. But Van Helsing held up his hand warningly.
“Nay, friend Jonathan,” he said, “in this, the quickest way home
is the longest way, so your proverb say. We shall all act and act
with desperate quick, when the time has come. But think, in all
probable the key of the situation is in that house in Piccadilly.
The Count may have many houses which he has bought. Of them he will
have deeds of purchase, keys and other things. He will have paper
that he write on. He will have his book of cheques. There are many
belongings that he must have somewhere. Why not in this place so
central, so quiet, where he come and go by the front or the back at
all hours, when in the very vast of the traffic there is none to
notice. We shall go there and search that house. And when we learn
what it holds, then we do what our friend Arthur call, in his
phrases of hunt `stop the earths’ and so we run down our old fox,
so? Is it not?”
“Then let us come at once,” I cried, “we are wasting the
precious, precious time!”
The Professor did not move, but simply said, “And how are we to
get into that house in Piccadilly?”
“Any way!” I cried. “We shall break in if need be.”
“And your police? Where will they be, and what will they
say?”
I was staggered, but I knew that if he wished to delay he had a
good reason for it. So I said, as quietly as I could, “Don’t wait
more than need be. You know, I am sure, what torture I am in.”
“Ah, my child, that I do. And indeed there is no wish of me to
add to your anguish. But just think, what can we do, until all the
world be at movement. Then will come our time. I have thought and
thought, and it seems to me that the simplest way is the best of
all. Now we wish to get into the house, but we have no key. Is it
not so?”I nodded.
“Now suppose that you were, in truth, the owner of that house,
and could not still get in. And think there was to you no
conscience of the housebreaker, what would you do?”
“I should get a respectable locksmith, and set him to work to
pick the lock for me.”
“And your police, they would interfere, would they not?”
“Oh no! Not if they knew the man was properly employed.”
“Then,” he looked at me as keenly as he spoke, “all that is in
doubt is the conscience of the employer, and the belief of your
policemen as to whether or not that employer has a good conscience
or a bad one. Your police must indeed be zealous men and clever, oh
so clever, in reading the heart, that they trouble themselves in
such matter. No, no, my friend Jonathan, you go take the lock off a
hundred empty houses in this your London, or of any city in the
world, and if you do it as such things are rightly done, and at the
time such things are rightly done, no one will interfere. I have
read of a gentleman who owned a so fine house in London, and when
he went for months of summer to Switzerland and lock up his house,
some burglar come and broke window at back and got in. Then he went
and made open the shutters in front and walk out and in through the
door, before the very eyes of the police. Then he have an auction
in that house, and advertise it, and put up big notice. And when
the day come he sell off by a great auctioneer all the goods of
that other man who own them. Then he go to a builder, and he sell
him that house, making an agreement that he pull it down and take
all away within a certain time. And your police and other authority
help him all they can. And when that owner come back from his
holiday in Switzerland he find only an empty hole where his house
had been. This was all done en regle, and in our work we shall be
en regle too. We shall not go so early that the policemen who have
then little to think of, shall deem it strange. But we shall go
after ten o’clock, when there are many about, and such things would
be done were we indeed owners of the house.”
I could not but see how right he was and the terrible despair of
Mina’s face became relaxed in thought. There was hope in such good
counsel.
Van Helsing went on, “When once within that house we may find
more clues. At any rate some of us can remain there whilst the rest
find the other places where there be more earth boxes, at
Bermondsey and Mile End.”
Lord Godalming stood up. “I can be of some use here,” he said.
“I shall wire to my people to have horses and carriages where they
will be most convenient.”
“Look here, old fellow,” said Morris, “it is a capital idea to
have all ready in case we want to go horse backing, but don’t you
think that one of your snappy carriages with its heraldic
adornments in a byway of Walworth or Mile End would attract too
much attention for our purpose? It seems to me that we ought to
take cabs when we go south or east. And even leave them somewhere
near the neighborhood we are going to.”
“Friend Quincey is right!” said the Professor. “His head is what
you call in plane with the horizon. It is a difficult thing that we
go to do, and we do not want no peoples to watch us if so it
may.”
Mina took a growing interest in everything and I was rejoiced to
see that the exigency of affairs was helping her to forget for a
time the terrible experience of the night. She was very, very pale,
almost ghastly, and so thin that her lips were drawn away, showing
her teeth in somewhat of prominence. I did not mention this last,
lest it should give her needless pain, but it made my blood run
cold in my veins to think of what had occurred with poor Lucy when
the Count had sucked her blood. As yet there was no sign of the
teeth growing sharper, but the time as yet was short, and there was
time for fear.
When we came to the discussion of the sequence of our efforts
and of the disposition of our forces, there were new sources of
doubt. It was finally agreed that before starting for Piccadilly we
should destroy the Count’s lair close at hand. In case he should
find it out too soon, we should thus be still ahead of him in our
work of destruction. And his presence in his purely material shape,
and at his weakest, might give us some new clue.
As to the disposal of forces, it was suggested by the Professor
that, after our visit to Carfax, we should all enter the house in
Piccadilly. That the two doctors and I should remain there, whilst
Lord Godalming and Quincey found the lairs at Walworth and Mile End
and destroyed them. It was possible, if not likely, the Professor
urged, that the Count might appear in Piccadilly during the day,
and that if so we might be able to cope with him then and there. At
any rate, we might be able to follow him in force. To this plan I
strenuously objected, and so far as my going was concerned, for I
said that I intended to stay and protect Mina. I thought that my
mind was made up on the subject, but Mina would not listen to my
objection. She said that there might be some law matter in which I
could be useful. That amongst the Count’s papers might be some clue
which I could understand out of my experience in Transylvania. And
that, as it was, all the strength we could muster was required to
cope with the Count’s extraordinary power. I had to give in, for
Mina’s resolution was fixed. She said that it was the last hope for
her that we should all work together.
“As for me,” she said, “I have no fear. Things have been as bad
as they can be. And whatever may happen must have in it some
element of hope or comfort. Go, my husband! God can, if He wishes
it, guard me as well alone as with any one present.”
So I started up crying out, “Then in God’s name let us come at
once, for we are losing time. The Count may come to Piccadilly
earlier than we think.”
“Not so!” said Van Helsing, holding up his hand.
“But why?” I asked.
“Do you forget,” he said, with actually a smile, “that last
night he banqueted heavily, and will sleep late?”
Did I forget! Shall I ever … can I ever! Can any of us ever
forget that terrible scene! Mina struggled hard to keep her brave
countenance, but the pain overmastered her and she put her hands
before her face, and shuddered whilst she moaned. Van Helsing had
not intended to recall her frightful experience. He had simply lost
sight of her and her part in the affair in his intellectual
effort.
When it struck him what he said, he was horrified at his
thoughtlessness and tried to comfort her.
“Oh, Madam Mina,” he said,”dear, dear, Madam Mina, alas! That I
of all who so reverence you should have said anything so forgetful.
These stupid old lips of mine and this stupid old head do not
deserve so, but you will forget it, will you not?” He bent low
beside her as he spoke.
She took his hand, and looking at him through her tears, said
hoarsely, “No, I shall not forget, for it is well that I remember.
And with it I have so much in memory of you that is sweet, that I
take it all together. Now, you must all be going soon. Breakfast is
ready, and we must all eat that we may be strong.”
Breakfast was a strange meal to us all. We tried to be cheerful
and encourage each other, and Mina was the brightest and most
cheerful of us. When it was over, Van Helsing stood up and said,
“Now, my dear friends, we go forth to our terrible enterprise. Are
we all armed, as we were on that night when first we visited our
enemy’s lair. Armed against ghostly as well as carnal attack?”
We all assured him.
“Then it is well. Now, Madam Mina, you are in any case quite
safe here until the sunset. And before then we shall return …
if … We shall return! But before we go let me see you armed
against personal attack. I have myself, since you came down,
prepared your chamber by the placing of things of which we know, so
that He may not enter. Now let me guard yourself. On your forehead
I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father, the
Son, and …
There was a fearful scream which almost froze our hearts to
hear. As he had placed the Wafer on Mina’s forehead, it had seared
it … had burned into the flesh as though it had been a piece
of whitehot metal. My poor darling’s brain had told her the
significance of the fact as quickly as her nerves received the pain
of it, and the two so overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature
had its voice in that dreadful scream.
But the words to her thought came quickly. The echo of the
scream had not ceased to ring on the air when there came the
reaction, and she sank on her knees on the floor in an agony of
abasement. Pulling her beautiful hair over her face, as the leper
of old his mantle, she wailed out.
“Unclean! Unclean! Even the Almighty shuns my polluted flesh! I
must bear this mark of shame upon my forehead until the Judgement
Day.”
They all paused. I had thrown myself beside her in an agony of
helpless grief, and putting my arms around held her tight. For a
few minutes our sorrowful hearts beat together, whilst the friends
around us turned away their eyes that ran tears silently. Then Van
Helsing turned and said gravely. So gravely that I could not help
feeling that he was in some way inspired, and was stating things
outside himself.
“It may be that you may have to bear that mark till God himself
see fit, as He most surely shall, on the Judgement Day, to redress
all wrongs of the earth and of His children that He has placed
thereon. And oh, Madam Mina, my dear, my dear, may we who love you
be there to see, when that red scar, the sign of God’s knowledge of
what has been, shall pass away, and leave your forehead as pure as
the heart we know. For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass
away when God sees right to lift the burden that is hard upon us.
Till then we bear our Cross, as His Son did in obedience to His
Will. It may be that we are chosen instruments of His good
pleasure, and that we ascend to His bidding as that other through
stripes and shame. Through tears and blood. Through doubts and
fear, and all that makes the difference between God and man.”
There was hope in his words, and comfort. And they made for
resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simultaneously we each
took one of the old man’s hands and bent over and kissed it. Then
without a word we all knelt down together, and all holding hands,
swore to be true to each other. We men pledged ourselves to raise
the veil of sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way,
we loved. And we prayed for help and guidance in the terrible task
which lay before us. It was then time to start. So I said farewell
to Mina, a parting which neither of us shall forget to our dying
day, and we set out.
To one thing I have made up my mind. If we find out that Mina
must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that
unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old
times one vampire meant many. Just as their hideous bodies could
only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting
sergeant for their ghastly ranks.
We entered Carfax without trouble and found all things the same
as on the first occasion. It was hard to believe that amongst so
prosaic surroundings of neglect and dust and decay there was any
ground for such fear as already we knew. Had not our minds been
made up, and had there not been terrible memories to spur us on, we
could hardly have proceeded with our task. We found no papers, or
any sign of use in the house. And in the old chapel the great boxes
looked just as we had seen them last.
Dr. Van Helsing said to us solemnly as we stood before him, “And
now, my friends, we have a duty here to do. We must sterilize this
earth, so sacred of holy memories, that he has brought from a far
distant land for such fell use. He has chosen this earth because it
has been holy. Thus we defeat him with his own weapon, for we make
it more holy still. It was sanctified to such use of man, now we
sanctify it to God.”
As he spoke he took from his bag a screwdriver and a wrench, and
very soon the top of one of the cases was thrown open. The earth
smelled musty and close, but we did not somehow seem to mind, for
our attention was concentrated on the Professor. Taking from his
box a piece of the Scared Wafer he laid it reverently on the earth,
and then shutting down the lid began to screw it home, we aiding
him as he worked.
One by one we treated in the same way each of the great boxes,
and left them as we had found them to all appearance. But in each
was a portion of the Host. When we closed the door behind us, the
Professor said solemnly, “So much is already done. It may be that
with all the others we can be so successful, then the sunset of
this evening may shine of Madam Mina’s forehead all white as ivory
and with no stain!”
As we passed across the lawn on our way to the station to catch
our train we could see the front of the asylum. I looked eagerly,
and in the window of my own room saw Mina. I waved my hand to her,
and nodded to tell that our work there was successfully
accomplished. She nodded in reply to show that she understood. The
last I saw, she was waving her hand in farewell. It was with a
heavy heart that we sought the station and just caught the train,
which was steaming in as we reached the platform. I have written
this in the train.
Piccadilly, 12:30 o’clock.—Just before we reached Fenchurch
Street Lord Godalming said to me, “Quincey and I will find a
locksmith. You had better not come with us in case there should be
any difficulty. For under the circumstances it wouldn’t seem so bad
for us to break into an empty house. But you are a solicitor and
the Incorporated Law Society might tell you that you should have
known better.”
I demurred as to my not sharing any danger even of odium, but he
went on, “Besides, it will attract less attention if there are not
too many of us. My title will make it all right with the locksmith,
and with any policeman that may come along. You had better go with
Jack and the Professor and stay in the Green Park. Somewhere in
sight of the house, and when you see the door opened and the smith
has gone away, do you all come across. We shall be on the lookout
for you, and shall let you in.”
“The advice is good!” said Van Helsing, so we said no more.
Godalming and Morris hurried off in a cab, we following in another.
At the corner of Arlington Street our contingent got out and
strolled into the Green Park. My heart beat as I saw the house on
which so much of our hope was centered, looming up grim and silent
in its deserted condition amongst its more lively and
spruce-looking neighbors. We sat down on a bench within good view ,
and began to smoke cigars so as to attract as little attention as
possible. The minutes seemed to pass with leaden feet as we waited
for the coming of the others.
At length we saw a four-wheeler drive up. Out of it, in
leisurely fashion, got Lord Godalming and Morris. And down from the
box descended a thick-set working man with his rush-woven basket of
tools. Morris paid the cabman, who touched his hat and drove away.
Together the two ascended the steps, and Lord Godalming pointed out
what he wanted done. The workman took off his coat leisurely and
hung it on one of the spikes of the rail, saying something to a
policeman who just then sauntered along. The policeman nodded
acquiescence, and the man kneeling down placed his bag beside him.
After searching through it, he took out a selection of tools which
he proceeded to lay beside him in orderly fashion. Then he stood
up, looked in the keyhole, blew into it, and turning to his
employers, made some remark. Lord Godalming smiled, and the man
lifted a good sized bunch of keys. Selecting one of them, he began
to probe the lock, as if feeling his way with it. After fumbling
about for a bit he tried a second, and then a third. All at once
the door opened under a slight push from him, and he and the two
others entered the hall. We sat still. My own cigar burnt
furiously, but Van Helsing’s went cold altogether. We waited
patiently as we saw the workman come out and bring his bag. Then he
held the door partly open, steadying it with his knees, whilst he
fitted a key to the lock. This he finally handed to Lord Godalming,
who took out his purse and gave him something. The man touched his
hat, took his bag, put on his coat and departed. Not a soul took
the slightest notice of the whole transaction.
When the man had fairly gone, we three crossed the street and
knocked at the door. It was immediately opened by Quincey Morris,
beside whom stood Lord Godalming lighting a cigar.
“The place smells so vilely,” said the latter as we came in. It
did indeed smell vilely. Like the old chapel at Carfax. And with
our previous experience it was plain to us that the Count had been
using the place pretty freely. We moved to explore the house, all
keeping together in case of attack, for we knew we had a strong and
wily enemy to deal with, and as yet we did not know whether the
Count might not be in the house.
In the dining room, which lay at the back of the hall, we found
eight boxes of earth. Eight boxes only out of the nine which we
sought! Our work was not over, and would never be until we should
have found the missing box.
First we opened the shutters of the window which looked out
across a narrow stone flagged yard at the blank face of a stable,
pointed to look like the front of a miniature house. There were no
windows in it, so we were not afraid of being overlooked. We did
not lose any time in examining the chests. With the tools which we
had brought with us we opened them, one by one, and treated them as
we had treated those others in the old chapel. It was evident to us
that the Count was not at present in the house, and we proceeded to
search for any of his effects.
After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, from basement
to attic, we came to the conclusion that the dining room contained
any effects which might belong to the Count. And so we proceeded to
minutely examine them. They lay in a sort of orderly disorder on
the great dining room table.
There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great
bundle, deeds of the purchase of the houses at Mile End and
Bermondsey, notepaper, envelopes, and pens and ink. All were
covered up in thin wrapping paper to keep them from the dust. There
were also a clothes brush, a brush and comb, and a jug and basin.
The latter containing dirty water which was reddened as if with
blood. Last of all was a little heap of keys of all sorts and
sizes, probably those belonging to the other houses.
When we had examined this last find, Lord Godalming and Quincey
Morris taking accurate notes of the various addresses of the houses
in the East and the South, took with them the keys in a great
bunch, and set out to destroy the boxes in these places. The rest
of us are, with what patience we can, waiting their return, or the
coming of the Count.