11 October, Evening.—Jonathan Harker has asked me to note this,
as he says he is hardly equal to the task, and he wants an exact
record kept.
I think that none of us were surprised when we were asked to see
Mrs. Harker a little before the time of sunset. We have of late
come to understand that sunrise and sunset are to her times of
peculiar freedom. When her old self can be manifest without any
controlling force subduing or restraining her, or inciting her to
action. This mood or condition begins some half hour or more before
actual sunrise or sunset, and lasts till either the sun is high, or
whilst the clouds are still aglow with the rays streaming above the
horizon. At first there is a sort of negative condition, as if some
tie were loosened, and then the absolute freedom quickly follows.
When, however, the freedom ceases the change back or relapse comes
quickly, preceeded only by a spell of warning silence.
Tonight, when we met, she was somewhat constrained, and bore all
the signs of an internal struggle. I put it down myself to her
making a violent effort at the earliest instant she could do
so.
A very few minutes, however, gave her complete control of
herself. Then, motioning her husband to sit beside her on the sofa
where she was half reclining, she made the rest of us bring chairs
up close.
Taking her husband’s hand in hers, she began, “We are all here
together in freedom, for perhaps the last time! I know that you
will always be with me to the end.” This was to her husband whose
hand had, as we could see, tightened upon her. “In the morning we
go out upon our task, and God alone knows what may be in store for
any of us. You are going to be so good to me to take me with you. I
know that all that brave earnest men can do for a poor weak woman,
whose soul perhaps is lost, no, no, not yet, but is at any rate at
stake, you will do. But you must remember that I am not as you are.
There is a poison in my blood, in my soul, which may destroy me,
which must destroy me, unless some relief comes to us. Oh, my
friends, you know as well as I do, that my soul is at stake. And
though I know there is one way out for me, you must not and I must
not take it!” She looked appealingly to us all in turn, beginning
and ending with her husband.
“What is that way?” asked Van Helsing in a hoarse voice. “What
is that way, which we must not, may not, take?”
“That I may die now, either by my own hand or that of another,
before the greater evil is entirely wrought. I know, and you know,
that were I once dead you could and would set free my immortal
spirit, even as you did my poor Lucy’s. Were death, or the fear of
death, the only thing that stood in the way I would not shrink to
die here now, amidst the friends who love me. But death is not all.
I cannot believe that to die in such a case, when there is hope
before us and a bitter task to be done, is God’s will. Therefore, I
on my part, give up here the certainty of eternal rest, and go out
into the dark where may be the blackest things that the world or
the nether world holds!”
We were all silent, for we knew instinctively that this was only
a prelude. The faces of the others were set, and Harker’s grew
ashen grey. Perhaps, he guessed better than any of us what was
coming.
She continued, “This is what I can give into the hotchpot.” I
could not but note the quaint legal phrase which she used in such a
place, and with all seriousness. “What will each of you give? Your
lives I know,” she went on quickly, “that is easy for brave men.
Your lives are God’s, and you can give them back to Him, but what
will you give to me?” She looked again questionly, but this time
avoided her husband’s face. Quincey seemed to understand, he
nodded, and her face lit up. “Then I shall tell you plainly what I
want, for there must be no doubtful matter in this connection
between us now. You must promise me, one and all, even you, my
beloved husband, that should the time come, you will kill me.”
“What is that time?” The voice was Quincey’s, but it was low and
strained.
“When you shall be convinced that I am so changed that it is
better that I die that I may live. When I am thus dead in the
flesh, then you will, without a moment’s delay, drive a stake
through me and cut off my head, or do whatever else may be wanting
to give me rest!”
Quincey was the first to rise after the pause. He knelt down
before her and taking her hand in his said solemnly, “I’m only a
rough fellow, who hasn’t, perhaps, lived as a man should to win
such a distinction, but I swear to you by all that I hold sacred
and dear that, should the time ever come, I shall not flinch from
the duty that you have set us. And I promise you, too, that I shall
make all certain, for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that
the time has come!”
“My true friend!” was all she could say amid her fastfalling
tears, as bending over, she kissed his hand.
“I swear the same, my dear Madam Mina!”said Van Helsing. “And
I!” said Lord Godalming, each of them in turn kneeling to her to
take the oath. I followed, myself.
Then her husband turned to her wan-eyed and with a greenish
pallor which subdued the snowy whiteness of his hair, and asked,
“And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?”
“You too, my dearest,”she said, with infinite yearning of pity
in her voice and eyes. “You must not shrink. You are nearest and
dearest and all the world to me. Our souls are knit into one, for
all life and all time. Think, dear, that there have been times when
brave men have killed their wives and their womenkind, to keep them
from falling into the hands of the enemy. Their hands did not
falter any the more because those that they loved implored them to
slay them. It is men’s duty towards those whom they love, in such
times of sore trial! And oh, my dear, if it is to be that I must
meet death at any hand, let it be at the hand of him that loves me
best. Dr. Van Helsing, I have not forgotten your mercy in poor
Lucy’s case to him who loved.” She stopped with a flying blush, and
changed her phrase, “to him who had best right to give her peace.
If that time shall come again, I look to you to make it a happy
memory of my husband’s life that it was his loving hand which set
me free from the awful thrall upon me.”
“Again I swear!” came the Professor’s resonant voice.
Mrs. Harker smiled, positively smiled, as with a sigh of relief
she leaned back and said, “And now one word of warning, a warning
which you must never forget. This time, if it ever come, may come
quickly and unexpectedly, and in such case you must lose no time in
using your opportunity. At such a time I myself might be …
nay! If the time ever come, shall be, leagued with your enemy
against you.
“One more request,” she became very solemn as she said this, “it
is not vital and necessary like the other, but I want you to do one
thing for me, if you will.”
We all acquiesced, but no one spoke. There was no need to
speak.
“I want you to read the Burial Service.” She was interrupted by
a deep groan from her husband. Taking his hand in hers, she held it
over her heart, and continued. “You must read it over me some day.
Whatever may be the issue of all this fearful state of things, it
will be a sweet thought to all or some of us. You, my dearest, will
I hope read it, for then it will be in your voice in my memory
forever, come what may!”
“But oh, my dear one,” he pleaded, “death is afar off from
you.”
“Nay,” she said, holding up a warning hand. “I am deeper in
death at this moment than if the weight of an earthly grave lay
heavy upon me!”
“Oh, my wife, must I read it?”he said, before he began.
“It would comfort me, my husband!” was all she said, and he
began to read when she had got the book ready.
How can I, how could anyone, tell of that strange scene, its
solemnity, its gloom,its sadness, its horror, and withal, its
sweetness. Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but a travesty of
bitter truth in anything holy or emotional, would have been melted
to the heart had he seen that little group of loving and devoted
friends kneeling round that stricken and sorrowing lady. Or heard
the tender passion of her husband’s voice, as in tones so broken
and emotional that often he had to pause, he read the simple and
beautiful service from the Burial of the Dead. I cannot go
on … words … and v-voices … f-fail m-me!
She was right in her instinct. Strange as it was, bizarre as it
may hereafter seem even to us who felt its potent influence at the
time, it comforted us much. And the silence, which showed Mrs.
Harker’s coming relapse from her freedom of soul, did not seem so
full of despair to any of us as we had dreaded.
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
15 October, Varna.—We left Charing Cross on the morning of the
12th, got to Paris the same night, and took the places secured for
us in the Orient Express. We traveled night and day, arriving here
at about five o’clock. Lord Godalming went to the Consulate to see
if any telegram had arrived for him, whilst the rest of us came on
to this hotel, “the Odessus.” The journey may have had incidents. I
was, however, too eager to get on, to care for them. Until the
Czarina Catherine comes into port there will be no interest for me
in anything in the wide world. Thank God! Mina is well, and looks
to be getting stronger. Her color is coming back. She sleeps a
great deal. Throughout the journey she slept nearly all the time.
Before sunrise and sunset, however, she is very wakeful and alert.
And it has become a habit for Van Helsing to hypnotize her at such
times. At first, some effort was needed, and he had to make many
passes. But now, she seems to yield at once, as if by habit, and
scarcely any action is needed. He seems to have power at these
particular moments to simply will, and her thoughts obey him. He
always asks her what she can see and hear.
She answers to the first, “Nothing, all is dark.”
And to the second,”I can hear the waves lapping against the
ship, and the water rushing by. Canvas and cordage strain and masts
and yards creak. The wind is high … I can hear it in the
shrouds, and the bow throws back the foam.”
It is evident that the Czarina Catherine is still at sea,
hastening on her way to Varna. Lord Godalming has just returned. He
had four telegrams, one each day since we started, and all to the
same effect. That the Czarina Catherine had not been reported to
Lloyd’s from anywhere. He had arranged before leaving London that
his agent should send him every day a telegram saying if the ship
had been reported. He was to have a message even if she were not
reported, so that he might be sure that there was a watch being
kept at the other end of the wire.
We had dinner and went to bed early. Tomorrow we are to see the
Vice Consul, and to arrange, if we can, about getting on board the
ship as soon as she arrives. Van Helsing says that our chance will
be to get on the boat between sunrise and sunset. The Count, even
if he takes the form of a bat, cannot cross the running water of
his own volition, and so cannot leave the ship. As he dare not
change to man’s form without suspicion, which he evidently wishes
to avoid, he must remain in the box. If, then, we can come on board
after sunrise, he is at our mercy, for we can open the box and make
sure of him, as we did of poor Lucy, before he wakes. What mercy he
shall get from us all will not count for much. We think that we
shall not have much trouble with officials or the seamen. Thank
God! This is the country where bribery can do anything, and we are
well supplied with money. We have only to make sure that the ship
cannot come into port between sunset and sunrise without our being
warned, and we shall be safe. Judge Moneybag will settle this case,
I think!
16 October.—Mina’s report still the same. Lapping waves and
rushing water, darkness and favoring winds. We are evidently in
good time, and when we hear of the Czarina Catherine we shall be
ready. As she must pass the Dardanelles we are sure to have some
report.
17 October.—Everything is pretty well fixed now, I think, to
welcome the Count on his return from his tour. Godalming told the
shippers that he fancied that the box sent aboard might contain
something stolen from a friend of his, and got a half consent that
he might open it at his own risk. The owner gave him a paper
telling the Captain to give him every facility in doing whatever he
chose on board the ship, and also a similar authorization to his
agent at Varna. We have seen the agent, who was much impressed with
Godalming’s kindly manner to him, and we are all satisfied that
whatever he can do to aid our wishes will be done.
We have already arranged what to do in case we get the box open.
If the Count is there, Van Helsing and Seward will cut off his head
at once and drive a stake through his heart. Morris and Godalming
and I shall prevent interference, even if we have to use the arms
which we shall have ready. The Professor says that if we can so
treat the Count’s body, it will soon after fall into dust. In such
case there would be no evidence against us, in case any suspicion
of murder were aroused. But even if it were not, we should stand or
fall by our act, and perhaps some day this very script may be
evidence to come between some of us and a rope. For myself, I
should take the chance only too thankfully if it were to come. We
mean to leave no stone unturned to carry out our intent. We have
arranged with certain officials that the instant the Czarina
Catherine is seen, we are to be informed by a special
messenger.
24 October.—A whole week of waiting. Daily telegrams to
Godalming, but only the same story. “Not yet reported.” Mina’s
morning and evening hypnotic answer is unvaried. Lapping waves,
rushing water, and creaking masts.
TELEGRAM, OCTOBER 24TH RUFUS SMITH, LLOYD’S, LONDON, TO LORD
GODALMING, CARE OF
H. B. M. VICE CONSUL, VARNA
“Czarina Catherine reported this morning from Dardanelles.”
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
25 October.—How I miss my phonograph! To write a diary with a
pen is irksome to me! But Van Helsing says I must. We were all wild
with excitement yesterday when Godalming got his telegram from
Lloyd’s. I know now what men feel in battle when the call to action
is heard. Mrs.Harker, alone of our party, did not show any signs of
emotion. After all, it is not strange that she did not, for we took
special care not to let her know anything about it, and we all
tried not to show any excitement when we were in her presence. In
old days she would, I am sure, have noticed, no matter how we might
have tried to conceal it. But in this way she is greatly changed
during the past three weeks. The lethargy grows upon her, and
though she seems strong and well, and is getting back some of her
color, Van Helsing and I are not satisfied. We talk of her often.
We have not, however, said a word to the others. It would break
poor Harker’s heart, certainly his nerve, if he knew that we had
even a suspicion on the subject. Van Helsing examines, he tells me,
her teeth very carefully, whilst she is in the hypnotic condition,
for he says that so long as they do not begin to sharpen there is
no active danger of a change in her. If this change should come, it
would be necessary to take steps! We both know what those steps
would have to be, though we do not mention our thoughts to each
other. We should neither of us shrink from the task, awful though
it be to contemplate. “Euthanasia” is an excellent and a comforting
word! I am grateful to whoever invented it.
It is only about 24 hours’ sail from the Dardanelles to here, at
the rate the Czarina Catherine has come from London. She should
therefore arrive some time in the morning, but as she cannot
possibly get in before noon, we are all about to retire early. We
shall get up at one o’clock, so as to be ready.
25 October, Noon.—No news yet of the ship’s arrival. Mrs.
Harker’s hypnotic report this morning was the same as usual, so it
is possible that we may get news at any moment. We men are all in a
fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm. His hands are cold
as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great
Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a
bad lookout for the Count if the edge of that “Kukri” ever touches
his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand!
Van Helsing and I were a little alarmed about Mrs. Harker today.
About noon she got into a sort of lethargy which we did not like.
Although we kept silence to the others, we were neither of us happy
about it. She had been restless all the morning, so that we were at
first glad to know that she was sleeping. When, however, her
husband mentioned casually that she was sleeping so soundly that he
could not wake her, we went to her room to see for ourselves. She
was breathing naturally and looked so well and peaceful that we
agreed that the sleep was better for her than anything else. Poor
girl, she has so much to forget that it is no wonder that sleep, if
it brings oblivion to her, does her good.
Later.—Our opinion was justified, for when after a refreshing
sleep of some hours she woke up, she seemed brighter and better
than she had been for days. At sunset she made the usual hypnotic
report. Wherever he may be in the Black Sea, the Count is hurrying
to his destination. To his doom, I trust!
26 October.—Another day and no tidings of the Czarina Catherine.
She ought to be here by now. That she is still journeying somewhere
is apparent, for Mrs. Harker’s hypnotic report at sunrise was still
the same. It is possible that the vessel may be lying by, at times,
for fog. Some of the steamers which came in last evening reported
patches of fog both to north and south of the port. We must
continue our watching, as the ship may now be signalled any
moment.
27 October, Noon.—Most strange. No news yet of the ship we wait
for. Mrs. Harker reported last night and this morning as usual.
“Lapping waves and rushing water,” though she added that “the waves
were very faint.” The telegrams from London have been the same, “no
further report.” Van Helsing is terribly anxious, and told me just
now that he fears the Count is escaping us.
He added significantly, “I did not like that lethargy of Madam
Mina’s. Souls and memories can do strange things during trance.” I
was about to ask him more, but Harker just then came in, and he
held up a warning hand. We must try tonight at sunset to make her
speak more fully when in her hypnotic state.
28 October.—Telegram. Rufus Smith, London, to Lord Godalming,
care H. B. M. Vice Consul, Varna “Czarina Catherine reported
entering Galatz at one o’clock today.”
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
28 October.—When the telegram came announcing the arrival in
Galatz I do not think it was such a shock to any of us as might
have been expected. True, we did not know whence, or how, or when,
the bolt would come. But I think we all expected that something
strange would happen. The day of arrival at Varna made us
individually satisfied that things would not be just as we had
expected. We only waited to learn where the change would occur.
None the less, however, it was a surprise. I suppose that nature
works on such a hopeful basis that we believe against ourselves
that things will be as they ought to be, not as we should know that
they will be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to the angels, even if
it be a will-o’-the-wisp to man. Van Helsing raised his hand over
his head for a moment, as though in remonstrance with the Almighty.
But he said not a word, and in a few seconds stood up with his face
sternly set.
Lord Godalming grew very pale, and sat breathing heavily. I was
myself half stunned and looked in wonder at one after another.
Quincey Morris tightened his belt with that quick movement which I
knew so well. In our old wandering days it meant “action.” Mrs.
Harker grew ghastly white, so that the scar on her forehead seemed
to burn, but she folded her hands meekly and looked up in prayer.
Harker smiled, actually smiled, the dark, bitter smile of one who
is without hope, but at the same time his action belied his words,
for his hands instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri
knife and rested there.
“When does the next train start for Galatz?” said Van Helsing to
us generally.
“At 6:30 tomorrow morning!” We all started, for the answer came
from Mrs. Harker.
“How on earth do you know?” said Art.
“You forget, or perhaps you do not know, though Jonathan does
and so does Dr. Van Helsing, that I am the train fiend. At home in
Exeter I always used to make up the time tables, so as to be
helpful to my husband. I found it so useful sometimes, that I
always make a study of the time tables now. I knew that if anything
were to take us to Castle Dracula we should go by Galatz, or at any
rate through Bucharest, so I learned the times very carefully.
Unhappily there are not many to learn, as the only train tomorrow
leaves as I say.”
“Wonderful woman!” murmured the Professor.
“Can’t we get a special?” asked Lord Godalming.
Van Helsing shook his head, “I fear not. This land is very
different from yours or mine. Even if we did have a special, it
would probably not arrive as soon as our regular train. Moreover,
we have something to prepare. We must think. Now let us organize.
You, friend Arthur, go to the train and get the tickets and arrange
that all be ready for us to go in the morning. Do you, friend
Jonathan, go to the agent of the ship and get from him letters to
the agent in Galatz, with authority to make a search of the ship
just as it was here. Quincey Morris, you see the Vice Consul, and
get his aid with his fellow in Galatz and all he can do to make our
way smooth, so that no times be lost when over the Danube. John
will stay with Madam Mina and me, and we shall consult. For so if
time be long you may be delayed. And it will not matter when the
sun set, since I am here with Madam to make report.”
“And I,” said Mrs. Harker brightly, and more like her old self
than she had been for many a long day, “shall try to be of use in
all ways, and shall think and write for you as I used to do.
Something is shifting from me in some strange way, and I feel freer
than I have been of late!”
The three younger men looked happier at the moment as they
seemed to realize the significance of her words. But Van Helsing
and I, turning to each other, met each a grave and troubled glance.
We said nothing at the time, however.
When the three men had gone out to their tasks Van Helsing asked
Mrs. Harker to look up the copy of the diaries and find him the
part of Harker’s journal at the Castle. She went away to get
it.
When the door was shut upon her he said to me, “We mean the
same! Speak out!”
“Here is some change. It is a hope that makes me sick, for it
may deceive us.”
“Quite so. Do you know why I asked her to get the
manuscript?”
“No!” said I, “unless it was to get an opportunity of seeing me
alone.”
“You are in part right, friend John, but only in part. I want to
tell you something. And oh, my friend, I am taking a great, a
terrible, risk. But I believe it is right. In the moment when Madam
Mina said those words that arrest both our understanding, an
inspiration came to me. In the trance of three days ago the Count
sent her his spirit to read her mind. Or more like he took her to
see him in his earth box in the ship with water rushing, just as it
go free at rise and set of sun. He learn then that we are here, for
she have more to tell in her open life with eyes to see ears to
hear than he, shut as he is, in his coffin box. Now he make his
most effort to escape us. At present he want her not.
“He is sure with his so great knowledge that she will come at
his call. But he cut her off, take her, as he can do, out of his
own power, that so she come not to him. Ah! There I have hope that
our man brains that have been of man so long and that have not lost
the grace of God, will come higher than his child-brain that lie in
his tomb for centuries, that grow not yet to our stature, and that
do only work selfish and therefore small. Here comes Madam Mina.
Not a word to her of her trance! She knows it not, and it would
overwhelm her and make despair just when we want all her hope, all
her courage, when most we want all her great brain which is trained
like man’s brain, but is of sweet woman and have a special power
which the Count give her, and which he may not take away
altogether, though he think not so. Hush! Let me speak, and you
shall learn. Oh, John, my friend, we are in awful straits. I fear,
as I never feared before. We can only trust the good God. Silence!
Here she comes!”
I thought that the Professor was going to break down and have
hysterics, just as he had when Lucy died, but with a great effort
he controlled himself and was at perfect nervous poise when Mrs.
Harker tripped into the room, bright and happy looking and, in the
doing of work, seemingly forgetful of her misery. As she came in,
she handed a number of sheets of typewriting to Van Helsing. He
looked over them gravely, his face brightening up as he read.
Then holding the pages between his finger and thumb he said,
“Friend John, to you with so much experience already, and you too,
dear Madam Mina, that are young, here is a lesson. Do not fear ever
to think. A half thought has been buzzing often in my brain, but I
fear to let him loose his wings. Here now, with more knowledge, I
go back to where that half thought come from and I find that he be
no half thought at all. That be a whole thought, though so young
that he is not yet strong to use his little wings. Nay, like the
`Ugly Duck’ of my friend Hans Andersen, he be no duck thought at
all, but a big swan thought that sail nobly on big wings, when the
time come for him to try them. See I read here what Jonathan have
written.
“That other of his race who, in a later age, again and again,
brought his forces over The Great River into Turkey Land, who when
he was beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had
to come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being
slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately
triumph.
“What does this tell us? Not much? No! The Count’s child thought
see nothing, therefore he speak so free. Your man thought see
nothing. My man thought see nothing, till just now. No! But there
comes another word from some one who speak without thought because
she, too, know not what it mean, what it might mean. Just as there
are elements which rest, yet when in nature’s course they move on
their way and they touch, the pouf! And there comes a flash of
light, heaven wide, that blind and kill and destroy some. But that
show up all earth below for leagues and leagues. Is it not so?
Well, I shall explain. To begin, have you ever study the philosophy
of crime? `Yes’ and `No.’ You, John, yes, for it is a study of
insanity. You, no, Madam Mina, for crime touch you not, not but
once. Still, your mind works true, and argues not a particulari ad
universale. There is this peculiarity in criminals. It is so
constant, in all countries and at all times, that even police, who
know not much from philosophy, come to know it empirically, that it
is. That is to be empiric. The criminal always work at one crime,
that is the true criminal who seems predestinate to crime, and who
will of none other. This criminal has not full man brain. He is
clever and cunning and resourceful, but he be not of man stature as
to brain. He be of child brain in much. Now this criminal of ours
is pre-destinate to crime also. He, too, have child brain, and it
is of the child to do what he have done. The little bird, the
little fish, the little animal learn not by principle, but
empirically. And when he learn to do, then there is to him the
ground to start from to do more. `Dos pou sto,’ said Archimedes.
`Give me a fulcrum, and I shall move the world!’ To do once, is the
fulcrum whereby child brain become man brain. And until he have the
purpose to do more, he continue to do the same again every time,
just as he have done before! Oh, my dear, I see that your eyes are
opened, and that to you the lightning flash show all the
leagues,”for Mrs. Harker began to clap her hands and her eyes
sparkled.
He went on, “Now you shall speak. Tell us two dry men of science
what you see with those so bright eyes.” He took her hand and held
it whilst he spoke. His finger and thumb closed on her pulse, as I
thought instinctively and unconsciously, as she spoke.
“The Count is a criminal and of criminal type. Nordau and
Lombroso would so classify him, and qua criminal he is of an
imperfectly formed mind. Thus, in a difficulty he has to seek
resource in habit. His past is a clue, and the one page of it that
we know, and that from his own lips, tells that once before, when
in what Mr. Morris would call a`tight place,’ he went back to his
own country from the land he had tried to invade, and thence,
without losing purpose, prepared himself for a new effort. He came
again better equipped for his work, and won. So he came to London
to invade a new land. He was beaten, and when all hope of success
was lost, and his existence in danger, he fled back over the sea to
his home. Just as formerly he had fled back over the Danube from
Turkey Land.”
“Good, good! Oh, you so clever lady!” said Van Helsing,
enthusiastically, as he stooped and kissed her hand. A moment later
he said to me, as calmly as though we had been having a sick room
consultation, “Seventy-two only, and in all this excitement. I have
hope.”
Turning to her again, he said with keen expectation, “But go on.
Go on! There is more to tell if you will. Be not afraid. John and I
know. I do in any case, and shall tell you if you are right. Speak,
without fear!”
“I will try to. But you will forgive me if I seem too
egotistical.”
“Nay! Fear not, you must be egotist, for it is of you that we
think.”
“Then, as he is criminal he is selfish. And as his intellect is
small and his action is based on selfishness, he confines himself
to one purpose. That purpose is remorseless. As he fled back over
the Danube, leaving his forces to be cut to pieces, so now he is
intent on being safe, careless of all. So his own selfishness frees
my soul somewhat from the terrible power which he acquired over me
on that dreadful night. I felt it! Oh, I felt it! Thank God, for
His great mercy! My soul is freer than it has been since that awful
hour. And all that haunts me is a fear lest in some trance or dream
he may have used my knowledge for his ends.”
The Professor stood up, “He has so used your mind, and by it he
has left us here in Varna, whilst the ship that carried him rushed
through enveloping fog up to Galatz, where, doubtless, he had made
preparation for escaping from us. But his child mind only saw so
far. And it may be that as ever is in God’s Providence, the very
thing that the evil doer most reckoned on for his selfish good,
turns out to be his chiefest harm. The hunter is taken in his own
snare, as the great Psalmist says. For now that he think he is free
from every trace of us all, and that he has escaped us with so many
hours to him, then his selfish child brain will whisper him to
sleep. He think, too, that as he cut himself off from knowing your
mind, there can be no knowledge of him to you. There is where he
fail! That terrible baptism of blood which he give you makes you
free to go to him in spirit, as you have as yet done in your times
of freedom, when the sun rise and set. At such times you go by my
volition and not by his. And this power to good of you and others,
you have won from your suffering at his hands. This is now all more
precious that he know it not, and to guard himself have even cut
himself off from his knowledge of our where. We, however, are not
selfish, and we believe that God is with us through all this
blackness, and these many dark hours. We shall follow him, and we
shall not flinch. Even if we peril ourselves that we become like
him. Friend John, this has been a great hour, and it have done much
to advance us on our way. You must be scribe and write him all
down, so that when the others return from their work you can give
it to them, then they shall know as we do.”
And so I have written it whilst we wait their return, and Mrs.
Harker has written with the typewriter all since she brought the MS
to us.
