29 October.—This is written in the train from Varna to Galatz.
Last night we all assembled a little before the time of sunset.
Each of us had done his work as well as he could, so far as
thought, and endeavor, and opportunity go, we are prepared for the
whole of our journey, and for our work when we get to Galatz. When
the usual time came round Mrs. Harker prepared herself for her
hypnotic effort, and after a longer and more serious effort on the
part of Van Helsing than has been usually necessary, she sank into
the trance. Usually she speaks on a hint, but this time the
Professor had to ask her questions, and to ask them pretty
resolutely, before we could learn anything. At last her answer
came.
“I can see nothing. We are still. There are no waves lapping,
but only a steady swirl of water softly running against the hawser.
I can hear men’s voices calling, near and far, and the roll and
creak of oars in the rowlocks. A gun is fired somewhere, the echo
of it seems far away. There is tramping of feet overhead, and ropes
and chains are dragged along. What is this? There is a gleam of
light. I can feel the air blowing upon me.”
Here she stopped. She had risen, as if impulsively, from where
she lay on the sofa, and raised both her hands, palms upwards, as
if lifting a weight. Van Helsing and I looked at each other with
understanding. Quincey raised his eyebrows slightly and looked at
her intently, whilst Harker’s hand instinctively closed round the
hilt of his Kukri. There was a long pause. We all knew that the
time when she could speak was passing, but we felt that it was
useless to say anything.
Suddenly she sat up, and as she opened her eyes said sweetly,
“Would none of you like a cup of tea? You must all be so
tired!”
We could only make her happy, and so acqueisced. She bustled off
to get tea. When she had gone Van Helsing said, “You see, my
friends. He is close to land. He has left his earth chest. But he
has yet to get on shore. In the night he may lie hidden somewhere,
but if he be not carried on shore, or if the ship do not touch it,
he cannot achieve the land. In such case he can, if it be in the
night, change his form and jump or fly on shore, then, unless he be
carried he cannot escape. And if he be carried, then the customs
men may discover what the box contain. Thus, in fine, if he escape
not on shore tonight, or before dawn, there will be the whole day
lost to him. We may then arrive in time. For if he escape not at
night we shall come on him in daytime, boxed up and at our mercy.
For he dare not be his true self, awake and visible, lest he be
discovered.”
There was no more to be said, so we waited in patience until the
dawn, at which time we might learn more from Mrs. Harker.
Early this morning we listened, with breathless anxiety, for her
response in her trance. The hypnotic stage was even longer in
coming than before, and when it came the time remaining until full
sunrise was so short that we began to despair. Van Helsing seemed
to throw his whole soul into the effort. At last, in obedience to
his will she made reply.
“All is dark. I hear lapping water, level with me, and some
creaking as of wood on wood.” She paused, and the red sun shot up.
We must wait till tonight.
And so it is that we are travelling towards Galatz in an agony
of expectation. We are due to arrive between two and three in the
morning. But already, at Bucharest, we are three hours late, so we
cannot possibly get in till well after sunup. Thus we shall have
two more hypnotic messages from Mrs. Harker! Either or both may
possibly throw more light on what is happening.
Later.—Sunset has come and gone. Fortunately it came at a time
when there was no distraction. For had it occurred whilst we were
at a station, we might not have secured the necessary calm and
isolation. Mrs. Harker yielded to the hypnotic influence even less
readily than this morning. I am in fear that her power of reading
the Count’s sensations may die away, just when we want it most. It
seems to me that her imagination is beginning to work. Whilst she
has been in the trance hitherto she has confined herself to the
simplest of facts. If this goes on it may ultimately mislead us. If
I thought that the Count’s power over her would die away equally
with her power of knowledge it would be a happy thought. But I am
afraid that it may not be so.
When she did speak, her words were enigmatical,”Something is
going out. I can feel it pass me like a cold wind. I can hear, far
off, confused sounds, as of men talking in strange tongues, fierce
falling water, and the howling of wolves.” She stopped and a
shudder ran through her, increasing in intensity for a few seconds,
till at the end, she shook as though in a palsy. She said no more,
even in answer to the Professor’s imperative questioning. When she
woke from the trance, she was cold, and exhausted, and languid, but
her mind was all alert. She could not remember anything, but asked
what she had said. When she was told, she pondered over it deeply
for a long time and in silence.
30 October, 7 a. m.—We are near Galatz now, and I may not have
time to write later. Sunrise this morning was anxiously looked for
by us all. Knowing of the increasing difficulty of procuring the
hypnotic trance, Van Helsing began his passes earlier than usual.
They produced no effect, however, until the regular time, when she
yielded with a still greater difficulty, only a minute before the
sun rose. The Professor lost no time in his questioning.
Her answer came with equal quickness, “All is dark. I hear water
swirling by, level with my ears, and the creaking of wood on wood.
Cattle low far off. There is another sound, a queer one like …
” She stopped and grew white, and whiter still.
“Go on, go on! Speak, I command you!” said Van Helsing in an
agonized voice. At the same time there was despair in his eyes, for
the risen sun was reddening even Mrs. Harker’s pale face. She
opened her eyes, and we all started as she said, sweetly and
seemingly with the utmost unconcern.
“Oh, Professor, why ask me to do what you know I can’t? I don’t
remember anything.” Then, seeing the look of amazement on our
faces, she said, turning from one to the other with a troubled
look, “What have I said? What have I done? I know nothing, only
that I was lying here, half asleep, and heard you say `go on!
speak, I command you!’ It seemed so funny to hear you order me
about, as if I were a bad child!”
“Oh, Madam Mina,” he said, sadly, “it is proof, if proof be
needed, of how I love and honor you, when a word for your good,
spoken more earnest than ever, can seem so strange because it is to
order her whom I am proud to obey!”
The whistles are sounding. We are nearing Galatz. We are on fire
with anxiety and eagerness.
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
30 October.—Mr. Morris took me to the hotel where our rooms had
been ordered by telegraph, he being the one who could best be
spared, since he does not speak any foreign language. The forces
were distributed much as they had been at Varna, except that Lord
Godalming went to the Vice Consul, as his rank might serve as an
immediate guarantee of some sort to the official, we being in
extreme hurry. Jonathan and the two doctors went to the shipping
agent to learn particulars of the arrival of the Czarina
Catherine.
Later.—Lord Godalming has returned. The Consul is away, and the
Vice Consul sick. So the routine work has been attended to by a
clerk. He was very obliging, and offered to do anything in his
power.
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
30 October.—At nine o’clock Dr. Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, and I
called on Messrs. Mackenzie & Steinkoff, the agents of the
London firm of Hapgood. They had received a wire from London, in
answer to Lord Godalming’s telegraphed request, asking them to show
us any civility in their power. They were more than kind and
courteous, and took us at once on board the Czarina Catherine,
which lay at anchor out in the river harbor. There we saw the
Captain, Donelson by name, who told us of his voyage. He said that
in all his life he had never had so favorable a run.
“Man!” he said, “but it made us afeard, for we expect it that we
should have to pay for it wi’ some rare piece o’ ill luck, so as to
keep up the average. It’s no canny to run frae London to the Black
Sea wi’ a wind ahint ye, as though the Deil himself were blawin’ on
yer sail for his ain purpose. An’ a’ the time we could no speer a
thing. Gin we were nigh a ship, or a port, or a headland, a fog
fell on us and travelled wi’ us, till when after it had lifted and
we looked out, the deil a thing could we see. We ran by Gibraltar
wi’ oot bein’ able to signal. An’ til we came to the Dardanelles
and had to wait to get our permit to pass, we never were within
hail o’ aught. At first I inclined to slack off sail and beat about
till the fog was lifted. But whiles, I thocht that if the Deil was
minded to get us into the Black Sea quick, he was like to do it
whether we would or no. If we had a quick voyage it would be no to
our miscredit wi’the owners, or no hurt to our traffic, an’ the Old
Mon who had served his ain purpose wad be decently grateful to us
for no hinderin’ him.”
This mixture of simplicity and cunning, of superstition and
commercial reasoning, aroused Van Helsing, who said,”Mine friend,
that Devil is more clever than he is thought by some, and he know
when he meet his match!”
The skipper was not displeased with the compliment, and went on,
“When we got past the Bosphorus the men began to grumble. Some o’
them, the Roumanians, came and asked me to heave overboard a big
box which had been put on board by a queer lookin’ old man just
before we had started frae London. I had seen them speer at the
fellow, and put out their twa fingers when they saw him, to guard
them against the evil eye. Man! but the supersteetion of foreigners
is pairfectly rideeculous! I sent them aboot their business pretty
quick, but as just after a fog closed in on us I felt a wee bit as
they did anent something, though I wouldn’t say it was again the
big box. Well, on we went, and as the fog didn’t let up for five
days I joost let the wind carry us, for if the Deil wanted to get
somewheres, well, he would fetch it up a’reet. An’ if he didn’t,
well, we’d keep a sharp lookout anyhow. Sure eneuch, we had a fair
way and deep water all the time. And two days ago, when the mornin’
sun came through the fog, we found ourselves just in the river
opposite Galatz. The Roumanians were wild, and wanted me right or
wrong to take out the box and fling it in the river. I had to argy
wi’ them aboot it wi’ a handspike. An’ when the last o’ them rose
off the deck wi’ his head in his hand, I had convinced them that,
evil eye or no evil eye, the property and the trust of my owners
were better in my hands than in the river Danube. They had, mind
ye, taken the box on the deck ready to fling in, and as it was
marked Galatz via Varna, I thocht I’d let it lie till we discharged
in the port an’ get rid o’t althegither. We didn’t do much clearin’
that day, an’ had to remain the nicht at anchor. But in the
mornin’, braw an’ airly, an hour before sunup, a man came aboard
wi’ an order, written to him from England, to receive a box marked
for one Count Dracula. Sure eneuch the matter was one ready to his
hand. He had his papers a’ reet, an’ gla d I was to be rid o’ the
dam’ thing, for I was beginnin’ masel’ to feel uneasy at it. If the
Deil did have any luggage aboord the ship, I’m thinkin’ it was nane
ither than that same!”
“What was the name of the man who took it?” asked Dr. Van
Helsing with restrained eagerness.
“I’ll be tellin’ ye quick!” he answered, and stepping down to
his cabin, produced a receipt signed “Immanuel Hildesheim.”
Burgen-strasse 16 was the address. We found out that this was all
the Captain knew, so with thanks we came away.
We found Hildesheim in his office, a Hebrew of rather the
Adelphi Theatre type, with a nose like a sheep, and a fez. His
arguments were pointed with specie, we doing the punctuation, and
with a little bargaining he told us what he knew. This turned out
to be simple but important. He had received a letter from Mr. de
Ville of London, telling him to receive, if possible before sunrise
so as to avoid customs, a box which would arrive at Galatz in the
Czarina Catherine. This he was to give in charge to a certain
Petrof Skinsky, who dealt with the Slovaks who traded down the
river to the port. He had been paid for his work by an English bank
note, which had been duly cashed for gold at the Danube
International Bank. When Skinsky had come to him, he had taken him
to the ship and handed over the box, so as to save parterage. That
was all he knew.
We then sought for Skinsky, but were unable to find him. One of
his neighbors, who did not seem to bear him any affection, said
that he had gone away two days before,no one knew whither. This was
corroborated by his landlord, who had received by messenger the key
of the house together with the rent due, in English money. This had
been between ten and eleven o’clock last night. We were at a
standstill again.
Whilst we were talking one came running and breathlessly gasped
out that the body of Skinsky had been found inside the wall of the
churchyard of St. Peter, and that the throat had been torn open as
if by some wild animal. Those we had been speaking with ran off to
see the horror, the women crying out. “This is the work of a
Slovak!” We hurried away lest we should have been in some way drawn
into the affair, and so detained.
As we came home we could arrive at no definite conclusion. We
were all convinced that the box was on its way, by water, to
somewhere, but where that might be we would have to discover. With
heavy hearts we came home to the hotel to Mina.
When we met together, the first thing was to consult as to
taking Mina again into our confidence. Things are getting
desperate, and it is at least a chance, though a hazardous one. As
a preliminary step, I was released from my promise to her.
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
30 October, evening.—They were so tired and worn out and
dispirited that there was nothing to be done till they had some
rest, so I asked them all to lie down for half an hour whilst I
should enter everything up to the moment. I feel so grateful to the
man who invented the “Traveller’s” typewriter, and to Mr. Morris
for getting this one for me. I should have felt quite astray doing
the work if I had to write with a pen …
It is all done. Poor dear, dear Jonathan, what he must have
suffered, what he must be suffering now. He lies on the sofa hardly
seeming to breathe, and his whole body appears in collapse. His
brows are knit. His face is drawn with pain. Poor fellow, maybe he
is thinking, and I can see his face all wrinkled up with the
concentration of his thoughts. Oh! if I could only help at all. I
shall do what I can.
I have asked Dr. Van Helsing, and he has got me all the papers
that I have not yet seen. Whilst they are resting, I shall go over
all carefully, and perhaps I may arrive at some conclusion. I shall
try to follow the Professor’s example, and think without prejudice
on the facts before me …
I do believe that under God’s providence I have made a
discovery. I shall get the maps and look over them.
I am more than ever sure that I am right. My new conclusion is
ready, so I shall get our party together and read it. They can
judge it. It is well to be accurate, and every minute is
precious.
MINA HARKER’S MEMORANDUM
(ENTERED IN HER JOURNAL)
Ground of inquiry.—Count Dracula’s problem is to get back to his
own place.
(a) He must be brought back by some one. This is evident. For
had he power to move himself as he wished he could go either as
man, or wolf, or bat, or in some other way. He evidently fears
discovery or interference, in the state of helplessness in which he
must be, confined as he is between dawn and sunset in his wooden
box.
(b) How is he to be taken?—Here a process of exclusions may help
us. By road, by rail, by water?
1. By Road.—There are endless difficulties, especially in
leaving the city.
(x) There are people. And people are curious, and investigate. A
hint, a surmise, a doubt as to what might be in the box, would
destroy him.
(y) There are, or there may be, customs and octroi officers to
pass.
(z) His pursuers might follow. This is his highest fear. And in
order to prevent his being betrayed he has repelled, so far as he
can, even his victim, me!
2. By Rail.—There is no one in charge of the box. It would have
to take its chance of being delayed, and delay would be fatal, with
enemies on the track. True, he might escape at night. But what
would he be, if left in a strange place with no refuge that he
could fly to? This is not what he intends, and he does not mean to
risk it.
3. By Water.—Here is the safest way, in one respect, but with
most danger in another. On the water he is powerless except at
night. Even then he can only summon fog and storm and snow and his
wolves. But were he wrecked, the living water would engulf him,
helpless, and he would indeed be lost. He could have the vessel
drive to land, but if it were unfriendly land, wherein he was not
free to move, his position would still be desperate.
We know from the record that he was on the water, so what we
have to do is to ascertain what water.
The first thing is to realize exactly what he has done as yet.
We may, then, get a light on what his task is to be.
Firstly.—We must differentiate between what he did in London as
part of his general plan of action, when he was pressed for moments
and had to arrange as best he could.
Secondly we must see, as well as we can surmise it from the
facts we know of, what he has done here.
As to the first, he evidently intended to arrive at Galatz, and
sent invoice to Varna to deceive us lest we should ascertain his
means of exit from England. His immediate and sole purpose then was
to escape. The proof of this, is the letter of instructions sent to
Immanuel Hildesheim to clear and take away the box before sunrise.
There is also the instruction to Petrof Skinsky. These we must only
guess at, but there must have been some letter or message, since
Skinsky came to Hildesheim.
That, so far, his plans were successful we know. The Czarina
Catherine made a phenomenally quick journey. So much so that
Captain Donelson’s suspicions were aroused. But his superstition
united with his canniness played the Count’s game for him, and he
ran with his favoring wind through fogs and all till he brought up
blindfold at Galatz. That the Count’s arrangements were well made,
has been proved. Hildesheim cleared the box, took it off, and gave
it to Skinsky. Skinsky took it, and here we lose the trail. We only
know that the box is somewhere on the water, moving along. The
customs and the octroi, if there be any, have been avoided.
Now we come to what the Count must have done after his arrival,
on land, at Galatz.
The box was given to Skinsky before sunrise. At sunrise the
Count could appear in his own form. Here, we ask why Skinsky was
chosen at all to aid in the work? In my husband’s diary, Skinsky is
mentioned as dealing with the Slovaks who trade down the river to
the port. And the man’s remark, that the murder was the work of a
Slovak, showed the general feeling against his class. The Count
wanted isolation.
My surmise is this, that in London the Count decided to get back
to his castle by water, as the most safe and secret way. He was
brought from the castle by Szgany, and probably they delivered
their cargo to Slovaks who took the boxes to Varna, for there they
were shipped to London. Thus the Count had knowledge of the persons
who could arrange this service. When the box was on land, before
sunrise or after sunset, he came out from his box, met Skinsky and
instructed him what to do as to arranging the carriage of the box
up some river. When this was done, and he knew that all was in
train, he blotted out his traces, as he thought, by murdering his
agent.
I have examined the map and find that the river most suitable
for the Slovaks to have ascended is either the Pruth or the Sereth.
I read in the typescript that in my trance I heard cows low and
water swirling level with my ears and the creaking of wood. The
Count in his box, then, was on a river in an open boat, propelled
probably either by oars or poles, for the banks are near and it is
working against stream. There would be no such if floating down
stream.
Of course it may not be either the Sereth or the Pruth, but we
may possibly investigate further. Now of these two, the Pruth is
the more easily navigated, but the Sereth is, at Fundu, joined by
the Bistritza which runs up round the Borgo Pass. The loop it makes
is manifestly as close to Dracula’s castle as can be got by
water.
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL—CONTINUED
When I had done reading, Jonathan took me in his arms and kissed
me. The others kept shaking me by both hands, and Dr. Van Helsing
said, “Our dear Madam Mina is once more our teacher. Her eyes have
been where we were blinded. Now we are on the track once again, and
this time we may succeed. Our enemy is at his most helpless. And if
we can come on him by day, on the water, our task will be over. He
has a start, but he is powerless to hasten, as he may not leave
this box lest those who carry him may suspect. For them to suspect
would be to prompt them to throw him in the stream where he perish.
This he knows, and will not. Now men, to our Council of War, for
here and now, we must plan what each and all shall do.”
“I shall get a steam launch and follow him,” said Lord
Godalming.
“And I, horses to follow on the bank lest by chance he land,”
said Mr. Morris.
“Good!” said the Professor, “both good. But neither must go
alone. There must be force to overcome force if need be. The Slovak
is strong and rough, and he carries rude arms.” All the men smiled,
for amongst them they carried a small arsenal.
Said Mr. Morris, “I have brought some Winchesters. They are
pretty handy in a crowd, and there may be wolves. The Count, if you
remember, took some other precautions. He made some requisitions on
others that Mrs. Harker could not quite hear or understand. We must
be ready at all points.”
Dr. Seward said, “I think I had better go with Quincey. We have
been accustomed to hunt together, and we two, well armed, will be a
match for whatever may come along. You must not be alone, Art. It
may be necessary to fight the Slovaks, and a chance thrust, for I
don’t suppose these fellows carry guns, would undo all our plans.
There must be no chances, this time. We shall not rest until the
Count’s head and body have been separated, and we are sure that he
cannot reincarnate.”
He looked at Jonathan as he spoke, and Jonathan looked at me. I
could see that the poor dear was torn about in his mind. Of course
he wanted to be with me. But then the boat service would, most
likely, be the one which would destroy the … the …
Vampire. (Why did I hesitate to write the word?)
He was silent awhile, and during his silence Dr. Van Helsing
spoke, “Friend Jonathan, this is to you for twice reasons. First,
because you are young and brave and can fight, and all energies may
be needed at the last. And again that it is your right to destroy
him. That, which has wrought such woe to you and yours. Be not
afraid for Madam Mina. She will be my care, if I may. I am old. My
legs are not so quick to run as once. And I am not used to ride so
long or to pursue as need be, or to fight with lethal weapons. But
I can be of other service. I can fight in other way. And I can die,
if need be, as well as younger men. Now let me say that what I
would is this. While you, my Lord Godalming and friend Jonathan go
in your so swift little steamboat up the river, and whilst John and
Quincey guard the bank where perchance he might be landed, I will
take Madam Mina right into the heart of the enemy’s country. Whilst
the old fox is tied in his box, floating on the running stream
whence he cannot escape to land, where he dares not raise the lid
of his coffin box lest his Slovak carriers should in fear leave him
to perish, we shall go in the track where Jonathan went, from
Bistritz over the Borgo, and find our way to the Castle of Dracula.
Here, Madam Mina’s hypnotic power will surely help, and we shall
find our way, all dark and unknown otherwise, after the first
sunrise when we are near that fateful place. There is much to be
done, and other places to be made sanctify, so that that nest of
vipers be obliterated.”
Here Jonathan interrupted him hotly, “Do you mean to say,
Professor Van Helsing, that you would bring Mina, in her sad case
and tainted as she is with that devil’s illness, right into the
jaws of his deathtrap? Not for the world! Not for Heaven or
Hell!”
He became almost speechless for a minute, and then went on, “Do
you know what the place is? Have you seen that awful den of hellish
infamy, with the very moonlight alive with grisly shapes, and ever
speck of dust that whirls in the wind a devouring monster in
embryo? Have you felt the Vampire’s lips upon your throat?”
Here he turned to me, and as his eyes lit on my forehead he
threw up his arms with a cry, “Oh, my God, what have we done to
have this terror upon us?” and he sank down on the sofa in a
collapse of misery.
The Professor’s voice, as he spoke in clear, sweet tones, which
seemed to vibrate in the air, calmed us all.
“Oh, my friend, it is because I would save Madam Mina from that
awful place that I would go. God forbid that I should take her into
that place. There is work, wild work, to be done before that place
can be purify. Remember that we are in terrible straits. If the
Count escape us this time, and he is strong and subtle and cunning,
he may choose to sleep him for a century, and then in time our dear
one,” he took my hand, “would come to him to keep him company, and
would be as those others that you, Jonathan, saw. You have told us
of their gloating lips. You heard their ribald laugh as they
clutched the moving bag that the Count threw to them. You shudder,
and well may it be. Forgive me that I make you so much pain, but it
is necessary. My friend, is it not a dire need for that which I am
giving, possibly my life? If it, were that any one went into that
place to stay, it is I who would have to go to keep them
company.”
“Do as you will,” said Jonathan, with a sob that shook him all
over, “we are in the hands of God!”
Later.—Oh, it did me good to see the way that these brave men
worked. How can women help loving men when they are so earnest, and
so true, and so brave! And, too, it made me think of the wonderful
power of money! What can it not do when basely used. I felt so
thankful that Lord Godalming is rich, and both he and Mr. Morris,
who also has plenty of money, are willing to spend it so freely.
For if they did not, our little expedition could not start,either
so promptly or so well equipped, as it will within another hour. It
is not three hours since it was arranged what part each of us was
to do. And now Lord Godalming and Jonathan have a lovely steam
launch, with steam up ready to start at a moment’s notice. Dr.
Seward and Mr. Morris have half a dozen good horses, well
appointed. We have all the maps and appliances of various kinds
that can be had. Professor Van Helsing and I are to leave by the
11:40 train tonight for Veresti, where we are to get a carriage to
drive to the Borgo Pass. We are bringing a good deal of ready
money, as we are to buy a carriage and horses. We shall drive
ourselves, for we have no one whom we can trust in the matter. The
Professor knows something of a great many languages, so we shall
get on all right. We have all got arms, even for me a large bore
revolver. Jonathan would not be happy unless I was armed like the
rest. Alas! I cannot carry one arm that the rest do, the scar on my
forehead forbids that. Dear Dr. Van Helsing comforts me by telling
me that I am fully armed as there may be wolves. The weather is
getting colder every hour, and there are snow flurries which come
and go as warnings.
Later.—It took all my courage to say goodby to my darling. We
may never meet again. Courage, Mina! The Professor is looking at
you keenly. His look is a warning. There must be no tears now,
unless it may be that God will let them fall in gladness.
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
30 October, night.—I am writing this in the light from the
furnace door of the steam launch. Lord Godalming is firing up. He
is an experienced hand at the work, as he has had for years a
launch of his own on the Thames, and another on the Norfolk Broads.
Regarding our plans, we finally decided that Mina’s guess was
correct, and that if any waterway was chosen for the Count’s escape
back to his Castle, the Sereth and then the Bistritza at its
junction, would be the one. We took it, that somewhere about the
47th degree, north latitude, would be the place chosen for crossing
the country between the river and the Carpathians. We have no fear
in running at good speed up the river at night. There is plenty of
water, and the banks are wide enough apart to make steaming, even
in the dark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells me to sleep for a
while, as it is enough for the present for one to be on watch. But
I cannot sleep, how can I with the terrible danger hanging over my
darling, and her going out into that awful place …
My only comfort is that we are in the hands of God. Only for
that faith it would be easier to die than to live, and so be quit
of all the trouble. Mr. Morris and Dr. Seward were off on their
long ride before we started. They are to keep up the right bank,
far enough off to get on higher lands where they can see a good
stretch of river and avoid the following of its curves. They have,
for the first stages, two men to ride and lead their spare horses,
four in all, so as not to excite curiosity. When they dismiss the
men, which shall be shortly, they shall themselves look after the
horses. It may be necessary for us to join forces. If so they can
mount our whole party. One of the saddles has a moveable horn, and
can be easily adapted for Mina, if required.
It is a wild adventure we are on. Here, as we are rushing along
through the darkness, with the cold from the river seeming to rise
up and strike us, with all the mysterious voices of the night
around us, it all comes home. We seem to be drifting into unknown
places and unknown ways. Into a whole world of dark and dreadful
things. Godalming is shutting the furnace door …
31 October.—Still hurrying along. The day has come, and
Godalming is sleeping. I am on watch. The morning is bitterly cold,
the furnace heat is grateful, though we have heavy fur coats. As
yet we have passed only a few open boats, but none of them had on
board any box or package of anything like the size of the one we
seek. The men were scared every time we turned our electric lamp on
them, and fell on their knees and prayed.
1 November, evening.—No news all day. We have found nothing of
the kind we seek. We have now passed into the Bistritza, and if we
are wrong in our surmise our chance is gone. We have overhauled
every boat, big and little. Early this morning, one crew took us
for a Government boat, and treated us accordingly. We saw in this a
way of smoothing matters, so at Fundu,where the Bistritza runs into
the Sereth, we got a Roumanian flag which we now fly conspicuously.
With every boat which we have over-hauled since then this trick has
succeeded. We have had every deference shown to us, and not once
any objection to whatever we chose to ask or do. Some of the
Slovaks tell us that a big boat passed them, going at more than
usual speed as she had a double crew on board. This was before they
came to Fundu, so they could not tell us whether the boat turned
into the Bistritza or continued on up the Sereth. At Fundu we could
not hear of any such boat, so she must have passed there in the
night. I am feeling very sleepy. The cold is perhaps beginning to
tell upon me, and nature must have rest some time. Godalming
insists that he shall keep the first watch. God bless him for all
his goodness to poor dear Mina and me.
2 November, morning.—It is broad daylight. That good fellow
would not wake me. He says it would have been a sin to, for I slept
peacefully and was forgetting my trouble. It seems brutally selfish
to me to have slept so long, and let him watch all night, but he
was quite right. I am a new man this morning. And, as I sit here
and watch him sleeping, I can do all that is necessary both as to
minding the engine, steering, and keeping watch. I can feel that my
strength and energy are coming back to me. I wonder where Mina is
now, and Van Helsing. They should have got to Veresti about noon on
Wednesday. It would take them some time to get the carriage and
horses. So if they had started and travelled hard, they would be
about now at the Borgo Pass. God guide and help them! I am afraid
to think what may happen. If we could only go faster. But we
cannot. The engines are throbbing and doing their utmost. I wonder
how Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris are getting on. There seem to be
endless streams running down the mountains into this river, but as
none of them are very large, at present, at all events, though they
are doubtless terrible in winter and when the snow melts, the
horsemen may not have met much obstruction. I hope that before we
get to Strasba we may see them. For if by that time we have not
overtaken the Count, it may be necessary to take counsel together
what to do next.
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
2 November.—Three days on the road. No news, and no time to
write it if there had been, for every moment is precious. We have
had only the rest needful for the horses. But we are both bearing
it wonderfully. Those adventurous days of ours are turning up
useful. We must push on. We shall never feel happy till we get the
launch in sight again.
3 Novenber.—We heard at Fundu that the launch had gone up the
Bistritza. I wish it wasn’t so cold. There are signs of snow
coming. And if it falls heavy it will stop us. In such case we must
get a sledge and go on, Russian fashion.
4 Novenber.—Today we heard of the launch having been detained by
an accident when trying to force a way up the rapids. The Slovak
boats get up all right, by aid of a rope and steering with
knowledge. Some went up only a few hours before. Godalming is an
amateur fitter himself, and evidently it was he who put the launch
in trim again.
Finally, they got up the rapids all right, with local help, and
are off on the chase afresh. I fear that the boat is not any better
for the accident, the peasantry tell us that after she got upon
smooth water again, she kept stopping every now and again so long
as she was in sight. We must push on harder than ever. Our help may
be wanted soon.
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
31 October.—Arrived at Veresti at noon. The Professor tells me
that this morning at dawn he could hardly hypnotize me at all, and
that all I could say was, “dark and quiet.” He is off now buying a
carriage and horses. He says that he will later on try to buy
additional horses, so that we may be able to change them on the
way. We have something more than 70 miles before us. The country is
lovely, and most interesting. If only we were under different
conditions, how delightful it would be to see it all. If Jonathan
and I were driving through it alone what a pleasure it would be. To
stop and see people, and learn something of their life, and to fill
our minds and memories with all the color and picturesqueness of
the whole wild, beautiful country and the quaint people! But,
alas!
Later.—Dr. Van Helsing has returned. He has got the carriage and
horses. We are to have some dinner, and to start in an hour. The
landlady is putting us up a huge basket of provisions. It seems
enough for a company of soldiers. The Professor encourages her, and
whispers to me that it may be a week before we can get any food
again. He has been shopping too, and has sent home such a wonderful
lot of fur coats and wraps, and all sorts of warm things. There
will not be any chance of our being cold.
We shall soon be off. I am afraid to think what may happen to
us. We are truly in the hands of God. He alone knows what may be,
and I pray Him, with all the strength of my sad and humble soul,
that He will watch over my beloved husband. That whatever may
happen, Jonathan may know that I loved him and honored him more
than I can say, and that my latest and truest thought will be
always for him.
