{"id":28,"date":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","date_gmt":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/dracula-4\/"},"modified":"2019-02-26T18:10:30","modified_gmt":"2019-02-26T18:10:30","slug":"4","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/4\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter 4 - Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued","rendered":"Chapter 4 – Jonathan Harker’s Journal Continued"},"content":{"raw":"
\r\n\r\nI awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count\r\nmust have carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the\r\nsubject, but could not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be\r\nsure, there were certain small evidences, such as that my clothes\r\nwere folded and laid by in a manner which was not my habit. My\r\nwatch was still unwound, and I am rigorously accustomed to wind it\r\nthe last thing before going to bed, and many such details. But\r\nthese things are no proof, for they may have been evidences that my\r\nmind was not as usual, and, for some cause or another, I had\r\ncertainly been much upset. I must watch for proof. Of one thing I\r\nam glad. If it was that the Count carried me here and undressed me,\r\nhe must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets are intact. I\r\nam sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which he would\r\nnot have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it. As I look\r\nround this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is\r\nnow a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than\r\nthose awful women, who were, who are, waiting to suck my blood.\r\n\r\n18 May.\u2014I have been down to look at that room again in daylight,\r\nfor I must know the truth. When I got to the doorway at the top of\r\nthe stairs I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven\r\nagainst the jamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could\r\nsee that the bolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is\r\nfastened from the inside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on\r\nthis surmise.\r\n\r\n19 May.\u2014I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked me\r\nin the sauvest tones to write three letters, one saying that my\r\nwork here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within\r\na few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from\r\nthe time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle\r\nand arrived at Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that\r\nin the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel\r\nopenly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power. And\r\nto refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger.\r\nHe knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be\r\ndangerous to him. My only chance is to prolong my opportunities.\r\nSomething may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in\r\nhis eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when\r\nhe hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts\r\nwere few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease\r\nof mind to my friends. And he assured me with so much\r\nimpressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which\r\nwould be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would\r\nadmit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been\r\nto create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to fall in with his\r\nviews, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters.\r\n\r\nHe calculated a minute, and then said, \"The first should be June\r\n12,the second June 19,and the third June 29.\"\r\n\r\nI know now the span of my life. God help me!\r\n\r\n28 May.\u2014There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being\r\nable to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle,\r\nand are encamped in the courtyard. These are gipsies. I have notes\r\nof them in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world,\r\nthough allied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are\r\nthousands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost\r\noutside all law. They attach themselves as a rule to some great\r\nnoble or boyar, and call themselves by his name. They are fearless\r\nand without religion, save superstition, and they talk only their\r\nown varieties of the Romany tongue.\r\n\r\nI shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to\r\nhave them posted. I have already spoken to them through my window\r\nto begin acquaintanceship. They took their hats off and made\r\nobeisance and many signs, which however, I could not understand any\r\nmore than I could their spoken language\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nI have written the letters. Mina's is in shorthand, and I simply\r\nask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my\r\nsituation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It\r\nwould shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to\r\nher. Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet\r\nknow my secret or the extent of my knowledge\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nI have given the letters. I threw them through the bars of my\r\nwindow with a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them\r\nposted. The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed,\r\nand then put them in his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to\r\nthe study, and began to read. As the Count did not come in, I have\r\nwritten here\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nThe Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his\r\nsmoothest voice as he opened two letters, \"The Szgany has given me\r\nthese, of which, though I know not whence they come, I shall, of\r\ncourse, take care. See!\"\u2014He must have looked at it.\u2014\"One is from\r\nyou, and to my friend Peter Hawkins. The other,\"\u2014here he caught\r\nsight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the\r\ndark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly,\u2014\"The\r\nother is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality!\r\nIt is not signed. Well! So it cannot matter to us.\"And he calmly\r\nheld letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were\r\nconsumed.\r\n\r\nThen he went on, \"The letter to Hawkins, that I shall, of course\r\nsend on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your\r\npardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you\r\nnot cover it again?\"He held out the letter to me, and with a\r\ncourteous bow handed me a clean envelope.\r\n\r\nI could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence. When he\r\nwent out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute\r\nlater I went over and tried it, and the door was locked.\r\n\r\nWhen, an hour or two after, the Count came quietly into the\r\nroom, his coming awakened me, for I had gone to sleep on the sofa.\r\nHe was very courteous and very cheery in his manner, and seeing\r\nthat I had been sleeping, he said, \"So, my friend, you are tired?\r\nGet to bed. There is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure\r\nof talk tonight, since there are many labours to me, but you will\r\nsleep, I pray.\"\r\n\r\nI passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept\r\nwithout dreaming. Despair has its own calms.\r\n\r\n31 May.\u2014This morning when I woke I thought I would provide\r\nmyself with some papers and envelopes from my bag and keep them in\r\nmy pocket, so that I might write in case I should get an\r\nopportunity, but again a surprise, again a shock!\r\n\r\nEvery scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my\r\nmemoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in\r\nfact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle.\r\nI sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me,\r\nand I made search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had\r\nplaced my clothes.\r\n\r\nThe suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat\r\nand rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like\r\nsome new scheme of villainy\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\n17 June.\u2014This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed\r\ncudgelling my brains, I heard without a crackling of whips and\r\npounding and scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the\r\ncourtyard. With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the\r\nyard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses,\r\nand at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great\r\nnail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots. They had also\r\ntheir long staves in hand. I ran to the door, intending to descend\r\nand try and join them through the main hall, as I thought that way\r\nmight be opened for them. Again a shock, my door was fastened on\r\nthe outside.\r\n\r\nThen I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked up at me\r\nstupidly and pointed, but just then the \"hetman\" of the Szgany came\r\nout, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at\r\nwhich they laughed.\r\n\r\nHenceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonized\r\nentreaty, would make them even look at me. They resolutely turned\r\naway. The leiter-wagons contained great, square boxes, with handles\r\nof thick rope. These were evidently empty by the ease with which\r\nthe Slovaks handled them, and by their resonance as they were\r\nroughly moved.\r\n\r\nWhen they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one\r\ncorner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the\r\nSzgany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his\r\nhorse's head. Shortly afterwards, I heard the crackling of their\r\nwhips die away in the distance.\r\n\r\n24 June.\u2014Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself\r\ninto his own room. As soon as I dared I ran up the winding stair,\r\nand looked out of the window, which opened South. I thought I would\r\nwatch for the Count, for there is something going on. The Szgany\r\nare quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of some\r\nkind. I know it, for now and then, I hear a far-away muffled sound\r\nas of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be the end of\r\nsome ruthless villainy.\r\n\r\nI had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I\r\nsaw something coming out of the Count's window. I drew back and\r\nwatched carefully, and saw the whole man emerge. It was a new shock\r\nto me to find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn\r\nwhilst travelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible\r\nbag which I had seen the women take away. There could be no doubt\r\nas to his quest, and in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme\r\nof evil, that he will allow others to see me, as they think, so\r\nthat he may both leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns\r\nor villages posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which\r\nhe may do shall by the local people be attributed to me.\r\n\r\nIt makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am\r\nshut up here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of\r\nthe law which is even a criminal's right and consolation.\r\n\r\nI thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long\r\ntime sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there\r\nwere some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the\r\nmoonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they\r\nwhirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I\r\nwatched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole\r\nover me. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable\r\nposition, so that I could enjoy more fully the aerial\r\ngambolling.\r\n\r\nSomething made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs\r\nsomewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight.\r\nLouder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating moats of dust\r\nto take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I\r\nfelt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts. Nay,\r\nmy very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities\r\nwere striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised!\r\n\r\nQuicker and quicker danced the dust. The moonbeams seemed to\r\nquiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and\r\nmore they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And\r\nthen I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses,\r\nand ran screaming from the place.\r\n\r\nThe phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised\r\nfrom the moonbeams, were those three ghostly women to whom I was\r\ndoomed.\r\n\r\nI fled, and felt somewhat safer in my own room, where there was\r\nno moonlight, and where the lamp was burning brightly.\r\n\r\nWhen a couple of hours had passed I heard something stirring in\r\nthe Count's room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed.\r\nAnd then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me.\r\nWith a beating heart, I tried the door, but I was locked in my\r\nprison, and could do nothing. I sat down and simply cried.\r\n\r\nAs I sat I heard a sound in the courtyard without, the agonised\r\ncry of a woman. I rushed to the window, and throwing it up, peered\r\nbetween the bars.\r\n\r\nThere, indeed, was a woman with dishevelled hair, holding her\r\nhands over her heart as one distressed with running. She was\r\nleaning against the corner of the gateway. When she saw my face at\r\nthe window she threw herself forward, and shouted in a voice laden\r\nwith menace, \"Monster, give me my child!\"\r\n\r\nShe threw herself on her knees, and raising up her hands, cried\r\nthe same words in tones which wrung my heart. Then she tore her\r\nhair and beat her breast, and abandoned herself to all the\r\nviolences of extravagant emotion. Finally, she threw herself\r\nforward, and though I could not see her, I could hear the beating\r\nof her naked hands against the door.\r\n\r\nSomewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, I heard the\r\nvoice of the Count calling in his harsh, metallic whisper. His call\r\nseemed to be answered from far and wide by the howling of wolves.\r\nBefore many minutes had passed a pack of them poured, like a\r\npent-up dam when liberated, through the wide entrance into the\r\ncourtyard.\r\n\r\nThere was no cry from the woman, and the howling of the wolves\r\nwas but short. Before long they streamed away singly, licking their\r\nlips.\r\n\r\nI could not pity her, for I knew now what had become of her\r\nchild, and she was better dead.\r\n\r\nWhat shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape from this\r\ndreadful thing of night, gloom, and fear?\r\n\r\n25 June.\u2014No man knows till he has suffered from the night how\r\nsweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. When the\r\nsun grew so high this morning that it struck the top of the great\r\ngateway opposite my window, the high spot which it touched seemed\r\nto me as if the dove from the ark had lighted there. My fear fell\r\nfrom me as if it had been a vaporous garment which dissolved in the\r\nwarmth.\r\n\r\nI must take action of some sort whilst the courage of the day is\r\nupon me. Last night one of my post-dated letters went to post, the\r\nfirst of that fatal series which is to blot out the very traces of\r\nmy existence from the earth.\r\n\r\nLet me not think of it. Action!\r\n\r\nIt has always been at night-time that I have been molested or\r\nthreatened, or in some way in danger or in fear. I have not yet\r\nseen the Count in the daylight. Can it be that he sleeps when\r\nothers wake, that he may be awake whilst they sleep? If I could\r\nonly get into his room! But there is no possible way. The door is\r\nalways locked, no way for me.\r\n\r\nYes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where his body has\r\ngone why may not another body go? I have seen him myself crawl from\r\nhis window. Why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window?\r\nThe chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I\r\nshall risk it. At the worst it can only be death, and a man's death\r\nis not a calf's, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me.\r\nGod help me in my task! Goodbye, Mina, if I fail. Goodbye, my\r\nfaithful friend and second father. Goodbye, all, and last of all\r\nMina!\r\n\r\nSame day, later.\u2014I have made the effort, and God helping me,\r\nhave come safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in\r\norder. I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on\r\nthe south side, and at once got outside on this side. The stones\r\nare big and roughly cut, and the mortar has by process of time been\r\nwashed away between them. I took off my boots, and ventured out on\r\nthe desperate way. I looked down once, so as to make sure that a\r\nsudden glimpse of the awful depth would not overcome me, but after\r\nthat kept my eyes away from it. I know pretty well the direction\r\nand distance of the Count's window, and made for it as well as I\r\ncould, having regard to the opportunities available. I did not feel\r\ndizzy, I suppose I was too excited, and the time seemed\r\nridiculously short till I found myself standing on the window sill\r\nand trying to raise up the sash. I was filled with agitation,\r\nhowever, when I bent down and slid feet foremost in through the\r\nwindow. Then I looked around for the Count, but with surprise and\r\ngladness, made a discovery. The room was empty! It was barely\r\nfurnished with odd things, which seemed to have never been\r\nused.\r\n\r\nThe furniture was something the same style as that in the south\r\nrooms, and was covered with dust. I looked for the key, but it was\r\nnot in the lock, and I could not find it anywhere. The only thing I\r\nfound was a great heap of gold in one corner, gold of all kinds,\r\nRoman, and British, and Austrian, and Hungarian,and Greek and\r\nTurkish money, covered with a film of dust, as though it had lain\r\nlong in the ground. None of it that I noticed was less than three\r\nhundred years old. There were also chains and ornaments, some\r\njewelled, but all of them old and stained.\r\n\r\nAt one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it, for,\r\nsince I could not find the key of the room or the key of the outer\r\ndoor, which was the main object of my search, I must make further\r\nexamination, or all my efforts would be in vain. It was open, and\r\nled through a stone passage to a circular stairway, which went\r\nsteeply down.\r\n\r\nI descended, minding carefully where I went for the stairs were\r\ndark, being only lit by loopholes in the heavy masonry. At the\r\nbottom there was a dark, tunnel-like passage, through which came a\r\ndeathly, sickly odour, the odour of old earth newly turned. As I\r\nwent through the passage the smell grew closer and heavier. At last\r\nI pulled open a heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself in an\r\nold ruined chapel, which had evidently been used as a graveyard.\r\nThe roof was broken, and in two places were steps leading to\r\nvaults, but the ground had recently been dug over, and the earth\r\nplaced in great wooden boxes, manifestly those which had been\r\nbrought by the Slovaks.\r\n\r\nThere was nobody about, and I made a search over every inch of\r\nthe ground, so as not to lose a chance. I went down even into the\r\nvaults, where the dim light struggled, although to do so was a\r\ndread to my very soul. Into two of these I went, but saw nothing\r\nexcept fragments of old coffins and piles of dust. In the third,\r\nhowever, I made a discovery.\r\n\r\nThere, in one of the great boxes, of which there were fifty in\r\nall, on a pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count! He was either\r\ndead or asleep. I could not say which, for eyes were open and\r\nstony, but without the glassiness of death, and the cheeks had the\r\nwarmth of life through all their pallor. The lips were as red as\r\never. But there was no sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no\r\nbeating of the heart.\r\n\r\nI bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in\r\nvain. He could not have lain there long, for the earthy smell would\r\nhave passed away in a few hours. By the side of the box was its\r\ncover, pierced with holes here and there. I thought he might have\r\nthe keys on him, but when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and\r\nin them dead though they were, such a look of hate, though\r\nunconscious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and\r\nleaving the Count's room by the window, crawled again up the castle\r\nwall. Regaining my room, I threw myself panting upon the bed and\r\ntried to think.\r\n\r\n29 June.\u2014Today is the date of my last letter, and the Count has\r\ntaken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave\r\nthe castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down\r\nthe wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal\r\nweapon, that I might destroy him. But I fear that no weapon wrought\r\nalong by man's hand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait\r\nto see him return, for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came\r\nback to the library, and read there till I fell asleep.\r\n\r\nI was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man\r\ncould look as he said,\"Tomorrow, my friend, we must part. You\r\nreturn to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have\r\nsuch an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been\r\ndespatched. Tomorrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready\r\nfor your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some\r\nlabours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they\r\nhave gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to\r\nthe Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But\r\nI am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.\"\r\n\r\nI suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity.\r\nSincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in\r\nconnection with such a monster, so I asked him pointblank, \"Why may\r\nI not go tonight?\"\r\n\r\n\"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a\r\nmission.\"\r\n\r\n\"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at\r\nonce.\"\r\n\r\nHe smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew\r\nthere was some trick behind his smoothness. He said, \"And your\r\nbaggage?\"\r\n\r\n\"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time.\"\r\n\r\nThe Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made\r\nme rub my eyes, it seemed so real, \"You English have a saying which\r\nis close to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our\r\nboyars, `Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.' Come with\r\nme, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house\r\nagainst your will, though sad am I at your going, and that you so\r\nsuddenly desire it. Come!\" With a stately gravity, he, with the\r\nlamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he\r\nstopped. \"Hark!\"\r\n\r\nClose at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as\r\nif the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music\r\nof a great orchestra seems to leap under the baton of the\r\nconductor. After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately\r\nway, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy\r\nchains, and began to draw it open.\r\n\r\nTo my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked.\r\nSuspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any\r\nkind.\r\n\r\nAs the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without\r\ngrew louder and angrier. Their red jaws, with champing teeth, and\r\ntheir blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening\r\ndoor. I knew than that to struggle at the moment against the Count\r\nwas useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do\r\nnothing.\r\n\r\nBut still the door continued slowly to open, and only the\r\nCount's body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this\r\nmight be the moment and means of my doom. I was to be given to the\r\nwolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical\r\nwickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as the last\r\nchance I cried out, \"Shut the door! I shall wait till morning.\" And\r\nI covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter\r\ndisappointment.\r\n\r\nWith one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door\r\nshut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as\r\nthey shot back into their places.\r\n\r\nIn silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two\r\nI went to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his\r\nkissing his hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his eyes,\r\nand with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.\r\n\r\nWhen I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a\r\nwhispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my\r\nears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count.\r\n\r\n\"Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait!\r\nHave patience! Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours!\"\r\n\r\nThere was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw\r\nopen the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking\r\ntheir lips. As I appeared, they all joined in a horrible laugh, and\r\nran away.\r\n\r\nI came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then\r\nso near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord, help me, and those to\r\nwhom I am dear!\r\n\r\n30 June.\u2014These may be the last words I ever write in this diary.\r\nI slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on\r\nmy knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me\r\nready.\r\n\r\nAt last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the\r\nmorning had come. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I felt that\r\nI was safe. With a glad heart, I opened the door and ran down the\r\nhall. I had seen that the door was unlocked, and now escape was\r\nbefore me. With hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the\r\nchains and threw back the massive bolts.\r\n\r\nBut the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled and\r\npulled at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it\r\nrattled in its casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been\r\nlocked after I left the Count.\r\n\r\nThen a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk, and I\r\ndetermined then and there to scale the wall again, and gain the\r\nCount's room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier\r\nchoice of evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window,\r\nand scrambled down the wall, as before, into the Count's room. It\r\nwas empty, but that was as I expected. I could not see a key\r\nanywhere, but the heap of gold remained. I went through the door in\r\nthe corner and down the winding stair and along the dark passage to\r\nthe old chapel. I knew now well enough where to find the monster I\r\nsought.\r\n\r\nThe great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but\r\nthe lid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready\r\nin their places to be hammered home.\r\n\r\nI knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid,\r\nand laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which\r\nfilled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking\r\nas if his youth had been half restored. For the white hair and\r\nmoustache were changed to dark irongrey. The cheeks were fuller,\r\nand the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath. The mouth was redder\r\nthan ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which\r\ntrickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin\r\nand neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen\r\nflesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed\r\nas if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. He\r\nlay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.\r\n\r\nI shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me\r\nrevolted at the contact, but I had to search, or I was lost. The\r\ncoming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar war to\r\nthose horrid three. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I\r\nfind of the key. Then I stopped and looked at the Count. There was\r\na mocking smile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad.\r\nThis was the being I was helping to transfer to London, where,\r\nperhaps, for centuries to come he might, amongst its teeming\r\nmillions, satiate his lust for blood, and create a new and\r\never-widening circle of semi-demons to batten on the helpless.\r\n\r\nThe very thought drove me mad. A terrible desire came upon me to\r\nrid the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at\r\nhand, but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to\r\nfill the cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge\r\ndownward, at the hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and\r\nthe eyes fell upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The\r\nsight seemed to paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand and\r\nglanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above the\r\nforehead. The shovel fell from my hand across the box, and as I\r\npulled it away the flange of the blade caught the edge of the lid\r\nwhich fell over again, and hid the horrid thing from my sight. The\r\nlast glimpse I had was of the bloated face, blood-stained and fixed\r\nwith a grin of malice which would have held its own in the\r\nnethermost hell. I thought and thought what should be my next move,\r\nbut my brain seemed on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling\r\ngrowing over me. As I waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song\r\nsung by merry voices coming closer, and through their song the\r\nrolling of heavy wheels and the cracking of whips. The Szgany and\r\nthe Slovaks of whom the Count had spoken were coming. With a last\r\nlook around and at the box which contained the vile body, I ran\r\nfrom the place and gained the Count's room, determined to rush out\r\nat the moment the door should be opened. With strained ears, I\r\nlistened, and heard downstairs the grinding of the key in the great\r\nlock and the falling back of the heavy door. There must have been\r\nsome other means of entry, or some one had a key for one of the\r\nlocked doors.\r\n\r\nThen there came the sound of many feet tramping and dying away\r\nin some passage which sent up a clanging echo. I turned to run down\r\nagain towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance, but\r\nat the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the\r\ndoor to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust\r\nfrom the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that\r\nit was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom\r\nwas closing round me more closely.\r\n\r\nAs I write there is in the passage below a sound of many\r\ntramping feet and the crash of weights being set down heavily,\r\ndoubtless the boxes, with their freight of earth. There was a sound\r\nof hammering. It is the box being nailed down. Now I can hear the\r\nheavy feet tramping again along the hall, with with many other idle\r\nfeet coming behind them.\r\n\r\nThe door is shut, the chains rattle. There is a grinding of the\r\nkey in the lock. I can hear the key withdrawn, then another door\r\nopens and shuts. I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.\r\n\r\nHark! In the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy\r\nwheels, the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they\r\npass into the distance.\r\n\r\nI am alone in the castle with those horrible women. Faugh! Mina\r\nis a woman, and there is nought in common. They are devils of the\r\nPit!\r\n\r\nI shall not remain alone with them. I shall try to scale the\r\ncastle wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of\r\nthe gold with me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this\r\ndreadful place.\r\n\r\nAnd then away for home! Away to the quickest and nearest train!\r\nAway from the cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil\r\nand his children still walk with earthly feet!\r\n\r\nAt least God's mercy is better than that of those monsters, and\r\nthe precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep, as a\r\nman. Goodbye, all. Mina!\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n","rendered":"
\n

I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count
\nmust have carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the
\nsubject, but could not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be
\nsure, there were certain small evidences, such as that my clothes
\nwere folded and laid by in a manner which was not my habit. My
\nwatch was still unwound, and I am rigorously accustomed to wind it
\nthe last thing before going to bed, and many such details. But
\nthese things are no proof, for they may have been evidences that my
\nmind was not as usual, and, for some cause or another, I had
\ncertainly been much upset. I must watch for proof. Of one thing I
\nam glad. If it was that the Count carried me here and undressed me,
\nhe must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets are intact. I
\nam sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which he would
\nnot have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it. As I look
\nround this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is
\nnow a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than
\nthose awful women, who were, who are, waiting to suck my blood.<\/p>\n

18 May.\u2014I have been down to look at that room again in daylight,
\nfor I must know the truth. When I got to the doorway at the top of
\nthe stairs I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven
\nagainst the jamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could
\nsee that the bolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is
\nfastened from the inside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on
\nthis surmise.<\/p>\n

19 May.\u2014I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked me
\nin the sauvest tones to write three letters, one saying that my
\nwork here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within
\na few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from
\nthe time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle
\nand arrived at Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that
\nin the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel
\nopenly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power. And
\nto refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger.
\nHe knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be
\ndangerous to him. My only chance is to prolong my opportunities.
\nSomething may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in
\nhis eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when
\nhe hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts
\nwere few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease
\nof mind to my friends. And he assured me with so much
\nimpressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which
\nwould be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would
\nadmit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been
\nto create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to fall in with his
\nviews, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters.<\/p>\n

He calculated a minute, and then said, “The first should be June
\n12,the second June 19,and the third June 29.”<\/p>\n

I know now the span of my life. God help me!<\/p>\n

28 May.\u2014There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being
\nable to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle,
\nand are encamped in the courtyard. These are gipsies. I have notes
\nof them in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world,
\nthough allied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are
\nthousands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost
\noutside all law. They attach themselves as a rule to some great
\nnoble or boyar, and call themselves by his name. They are fearless
\nand without religion, save superstition, and they talk only their
\nown varieties of the Romany tongue.<\/p>\n

I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to
\nhave them posted. I have already spoken to them through my window
\nto begin acquaintanceship. They took their hats off and made
\nobeisance and many signs, which however, I could not understand any
\nmore than I could their spoken language\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

I have written the letters. Mina’s is in shorthand, and I simply
\nask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my
\nsituation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It
\nwould shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to
\nher. Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet
\nknow my secret or the extent of my knowledge\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

I have given the letters. I threw them through the bars of my
\nwindow with a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them
\nposted. The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed,
\nand then put them in his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to
\nthe study, and began to read. As the Count did not come in, I have
\nwritten here\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his
\nsmoothest voice as he opened two letters, “The Szgany has given me
\nthese, of which, though I know not whence they come, I shall, of
\ncourse, take care. See!”\u2014He must have looked at it.\u2014”One is from
\nyou, and to my friend Peter Hawkins. The other,”\u2014here he caught
\nsight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the
\ndark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly,\u2014”The
\nother is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality!
\nIt is not signed. Well! So it cannot matter to us.”And he calmly
\nheld letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were
\nconsumed.<\/p>\n

Then he went on, “The letter to Hawkins, that I shall, of course
\nsend on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your
\npardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you
\nnot cover it again?”He held out the letter to me, and with a
\ncourteous bow handed me a clean envelope.<\/p>\n

I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence. When he
\nwent out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute
\nlater I went over and tried it, and the door was locked.<\/p>\n

When, an hour or two after, the Count came quietly into the
\nroom, his coming awakened me, for I had gone to sleep on the sofa.
\nHe was very courteous and very cheery in his manner, and seeing
\nthat I had been sleeping, he said, “So, my friend, you are tired?
\nGet to bed. There is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure
\nof talk tonight, since there are many labours to me, but you will
\nsleep, I pray.”<\/p>\n

I passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept
\nwithout dreaming. Despair has its own calms.<\/p>\n

31 May.\u2014This morning when I woke I thought I would provide
\nmyself with some papers and envelopes from my bag and keep them in
\nmy pocket, so that I might write in case I should get an
\nopportunity, but again a surprise, again a shock!<\/p>\n

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my
\nmemoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in
\nfact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle.
\nI sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me,
\nand I made search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had
\nplaced my clothes.<\/p>\n

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat
\nand rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like
\nsome new scheme of villainy\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

17 June.\u2014This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed
\ncudgelling my brains, I heard without a crackling of whips and
\npounding and scraping of horses’ feet up the rocky path beyond the
\ncourtyard. With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the
\nyard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses,
\nand at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great
\nnail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots. They had also
\ntheir long staves in hand. I ran to the door, intending to descend
\nand try and join them through the main hall, as I thought that way
\nmight be opened for them. Again a shock, my door was fastened on
\nthe outside.<\/p>\n

Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked up at me
\nstupidly and pointed, but just then the “hetman” of the Szgany came
\nout, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at
\nwhich they laughed.<\/p>\n

Henceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonized
\nentreaty, would make them even look at me. They resolutely turned
\naway. The leiter-wagons contained great, square boxes, with handles
\nof thick rope. These were evidently empty by the ease with which
\nthe Slovaks handled them, and by their resonance as they were
\nroughly moved.<\/p>\n

When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one
\ncorner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the
\nSzgany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his
\nhorse’s head. Shortly afterwards, I heard the crackling of their
\nwhips die away in the distance.<\/p>\n

24 June.\u2014Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself
\ninto his own room. As soon as I dared I ran up the winding stair,
\nand looked out of the window, which opened South. I thought I would
\nwatch for the Count, for there is something going on. The Szgany
\nare quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of some
\nkind. I know it, for now and then, I hear a far-away muffled sound
\nas of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be the end of
\nsome ruthless villainy.<\/p>\n

I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I
\nsaw something coming out of the Count’s window. I drew back and
\nwatched carefully, and saw the whole man emerge. It was a new shock
\nto me to find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn
\nwhilst travelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible
\nbag which I had seen the women take away. There could be no doubt
\nas to his quest, and in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme
\nof evil, that he will allow others to see me, as they think, so
\nthat he may both leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns
\nor villages posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which
\nhe may do shall by the local people be attributed to me.<\/p>\n

It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am
\nshut up here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of
\nthe law which is even a criminal’s right and consolation.<\/p>\n

I thought I would watch for the Count’s return, and for a long
\ntime sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there
\nwere some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the
\nmoonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they
\nwhirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I
\nwatched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole
\nover me. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable
\nposition, so that I could enjoy more fully the aerial
\ngambolling.<\/p>\n

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs
\nsomewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight.
\nLouder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating moats of dust
\nto take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I
\nfelt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts. Nay,
\nmy very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities
\nwere striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised!<\/p>\n

Quicker and quicker danced the dust. The moonbeams seemed to
\nquiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and
\nmore they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And
\nthen I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses,
\nand ran screaming from the place.<\/p>\n

The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised
\nfrom the moonbeams, were those three ghostly women to whom I was
\ndoomed.<\/p>\n

I fled, and felt somewhat safer in my own room, where there was
\nno moonlight, and where the lamp was burning brightly.<\/p>\n

When a couple of hours had passed I heard something stirring in
\nthe Count’s room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed.
\nAnd then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me.
\nWith a beating heart, I tried the door, but I was locked in my
\nprison, and could do nothing. I sat down and simply cried.<\/p>\n

As I sat I heard a sound in the courtyard without, the agonised
\ncry of a woman. I rushed to the window, and throwing it up, peered
\nbetween the bars.<\/p>\n

There, indeed, was a woman with dishevelled hair, holding her
\nhands over her heart as one distressed with running. She was
\nleaning against the corner of the gateway. When she saw my face at
\nthe window she threw herself forward, and shouted in a voice laden
\nwith menace, “Monster, give me my child!”<\/p>\n

She threw herself on her knees, and raising up her hands, cried
\nthe same words in tones which wrung my heart. Then she tore her
\nhair and beat her breast, and abandoned herself to all the
\nviolences of extravagant emotion. Finally, she threw herself
\nforward, and though I could not see her, I could hear the beating
\nof her naked hands against the door.<\/p>\n

Somewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, I heard the
\nvoice of the Count calling in his harsh, metallic whisper. His call
\nseemed to be answered from far and wide by the howling of wolves.
\nBefore many minutes had passed a pack of them poured, like a
\npent-up dam when liberated, through the wide entrance into the
\ncourtyard.<\/p>\n

There was no cry from the woman, and the howling of the wolves
\nwas but short. Before long they streamed away singly, licking their
\nlips.<\/p>\n

I could not pity her, for I knew now what had become of her
\nchild, and she was better dead.<\/p>\n

What shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape from this
\ndreadful thing of night, gloom, and fear?<\/p>\n

25 June.\u2014No man knows till he has suffered from the night how
\nsweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. When the
\nsun grew so high this morning that it struck the top of the great
\ngateway opposite my window, the high spot which it touched seemed
\nto me as if the dove from the ark had lighted there. My fear fell
\nfrom me as if it had been a vaporous garment which dissolved in the
\nwarmth.<\/p>\n

I must take action of some sort whilst the courage of the day is
\nupon me. Last night one of my post-dated letters went to post, the
\nfirst of that fatal series which is to blot out the very traces of
\nmy existence from the earth.<\/p>\n

Let me not think of it. Action!<\/p>\n

It has always been at night-time that I have been molested or
\nthreatened, or in some way in danger or in fear. I have not yet
\nseen the Count in the daylight. Can it be that he sleeps when
\nothers wake, that he may be awake whilst they sleep? If I could
\nonly get into his room! But there is no possible way. The door is
\nalways locked, no way for me.<\/p>\n

Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where his body has
\ngone why may not another body go? I have seen him myself crawl from
\nhis window. Why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window?
\nThe chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I
\nshall risk it. At the worst it can only be death, and a man’s death
\nis not a calf’s, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me.
\nGod help me in my task! Goodbye, Mina, if I fail. Goodbye, my
\nfaithful friend and second father. Goodbye, all, and last of all
\nMina!<\/p>\n

Same day, later.\u2014I have made the effort, and God helping me,
\nhave come safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in
\norder. I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on
\nthe south side, and at once got outside on this side. The stones
\nare big and roughly cut, and the mortar has by process of time been
\nwashed away between them. I took off my boots, and ventured out on
\nthe desperate way. I looked down once, so as to make sure that a
\nsudden glimpse of the awful depth would not overcome me, but after
\nthat kept my eyes away from it. I know pretty well the direction
\nand distance of the Count’s window, and made for it as well as I
\ncould, having regard to the opportunities available. I did not feel
\ndizzy, I suppose I was too excited, and the time seemed
\nridiculously short till I found myself standing on the window sill
\nand trying to raise up the sash. I was filled with agitation,
\nhowever, when I bent down and slid feet foremost in through the
\nwindow. Then I looked around for the Count, but with surprise and
\ngladness, made a discovery. The room was empty! It was barely
\nfurnished with odd things, which seemed to have never been
\nused.<\/p>\n

The furniture was something the same style as that in the south
\nrooms, and was covered with dust. I looked for the key, but it was
\nnot in the lock, and I could not find it anywhere. The only thing I
\nfound was a great heap of gold in one corner, gold of all kinds,
\nRoman, and British, and Austrian, and Hungarian,and Greek and
\nTurkish money, covered with a film of dust, as though it had lain
\nlong in the ground. None of it that I noticed was less than three
\nhundred years old. There were also chains and ornaments, some
\njewelled, but all of them old and stained.<\/p>\n

At one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it, for,
\nsince I could not find the key of the room or the key of the outer
\ndoor, which was the main object of my search, I must make further
\nexamination, or all my efforts would be in vain. It was open, and
\nled through a stone passage to a circular stairway, which went
\nsteeply down.<\/p>\n

I descended, minding carefully where I went for the stairs were
\ndark, being only lit by loopholes in the heavy masonry. At the
\nbottom there was a dark, tunnel-like passage, through which came a
\ndeathly, sickly odour, the odour of old earth newly turned. As I
\nwent through the passage the smell grew closer and heavier. At last
\nI pulled open a heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself in an
\nold ruined chapel, which had evidently been used as a graveyard.
\nThe roof was broken, and in two places were steps leading to
\nvaults, but the ground had recently been dug over, and the earth
\nplaced in great wooden boxes, manifestly those which had been
\nbrought by the Slovaks.<\/p>\n

There was nobody about, and I made a search over every inch of
\nthe ground, so as not to lose a chance. I went down even into the
\nvaults, where the dim light struggled, although to do so was a
\ndread to my very soul. Into two of these I went, but saw nothing
\nexcept fragments of old coffins and piles of dust. In the third,
\nhowever, I made a discovery.<\/p>\n

There, in one of the great boxes, of which there were fifty in
\nall, on a pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count! He was either
\ndead or asleep. I could not say which, for eyes were open and
\nstony, but without the glassiness of death, and the cheeks had the
\nwarmth of life through all their pallor. The lips were as red as
\never. But there was no sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no
\nbeating of the heart.<\/p>\n

I bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in
\nvain. He could not have lain there long, for the earthy smell would
\nhave passed away in a few hours. By the side of the box was its
\ncover, pierced with holes here and there. I thought he might have
\nthe keys on him, but when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and
\nin them dead though they were, such a look of hate, though
\nunconscious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and
\nleaving the Count’s room by the window, crawled again up the castle
\nwall. Regaining my room, I threw myself panting upon the bed and
\ntried to think.<\/p>\n

29 June.\u2014Today is the date of my last letter, and the Count has
\ntaken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave
\nthe castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down
\nthe wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal
\nweapon, that I might destroy him. But I fear that no weapon wrought
\nalong by man’s hand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait
\nto see him return, for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came
\nback to the library, and read there till I fell asleep.<\/p>\n

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man
\ncould look as he said,”Tomorrow, my friend, we must part. You
\nreturn to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have
\nsuch an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been
\ndespatched. Tomorrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready
\nfor your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some
\nlabours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they
\nhave gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to
\nthe Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But
\nI am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.”<\/p>\n

I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity.
\nSincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in
\nconnection with such a monster, so I asked him pointblank, “Why may
\nI not go tonight?”<\/p>\n

“Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a
\nmission.”<\/p>\n

“But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at
\nonce.”<\/p>\n

He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew
\nthere was some trick behind his smoothness. He said, “And your
\nbaggage?”<\/p>\n

“I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time.”<\/p>\n

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made
\nme rub my eyes, it seemed so real, “You English have a saying which
\nis close to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our
\nboyars, `Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.’ Come with
\nme, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house
\nagainst your will, though sad am I at your going, and that you so
\nsuddenly desire it. Come!” With a stately gravity, he, with the
\nlamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he
\nstopped. “Hark!”<\/p>\n

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as
\nif the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music
\nof a great orchestra seems to leap under the baton of the
\nconductor. After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately
\nway, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy
\nchains, and began to draw it open.<\/p>\n

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked.
\nSuspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any
\nkind.<\/p>\n

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without
\ngrew louder and angrier. Their red jaws, with champing teeth, and
\ntheir blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening
\ndoor. I knew than that to struggle at the moment against the Count
\nwas useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do
\nnothing.<\/p>\n

But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the
\nCount’s body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this
\nmight be the moment and means of my doom. I was to be given to the
\nwolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical
\nwickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as the last
\nchance I cried out, “Shut the door! I shall wait till morning.” And
\nI covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter
\ndisappointment.<\/p>\n

With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door
\nshut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as
\nthey shot back into their places.<\/p>\n

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two
\nI went to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his
\nkissing his hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his eyes,
\nand with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.<\/p>\n

When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a
\nwhispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my
\nears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count.<\/p>\n

“Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait!
\nHave patience! Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours!”<\/p>\n

There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw
\nopen the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking
\ntheir lips. As I appeared, they all joined in a horrible laugh, and
\nran away.<\/p>\n

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then
\nso near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord, help me, and those to
\nwhom I am dear!<\/p>\n

30 June.\u2014These may be the last words I ever write in this diary.
\nI slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on
\nmy knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me
\nready.<\/p>\n

At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the
\nmorning had come. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I felt that
\nI was safe. With a glad heart, I opened the door and ran down the
\nhall. I had seen that the door was unlocked, and now escape was
\nbefore me. With hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the
\nchains and threw back the massive bolts.<\/p>\n

But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled and
\npulled at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it
\nrattled in its casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been
\nlocked after I left the Count.<\/p>\n

Then a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk, and I
\ndetermined then and there to scale the wall again, and gain the
\nCount’s room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier
\nchoice of evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window,
\nand scrambled down the wall, as before, into the Count’s room. It
\nwas empty, but that was as I expected. I could not see a key
\nanywhere, but the heap of gold remained. I went through the door in
\nthe corner and down the winding stair and along the dark passage to
\nthe old chapel. I knew now well enough where to find the monster I
\nsought.<\/p>\n

The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but
\nthe lid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready
\nin their places to be hammered home.<\/p>\n

I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid,
\nand laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which
\nfilled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking
\nas if his youth had been half restored. For the white hair and
\nmoustache were changed to dark irongrey. The cheeks were fuller,
\nand the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath. The mouth was redder
\nthan ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which
\ntrickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin
\nand neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen
\nflesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed
\nas if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. He
\nlay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.<\/p>\n

I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me
\nrevolted at the contact, but I had to search, or I was lost. The
\ncoming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar war to
\nthose horrid three. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I
\nfind of the key. Then I stopped and looked at the Count. There was
\na mocking smile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad.
\nThis was the being I was helping to transfer to London, where,
\nperhaps, for centuries to come he might, amongst its teeming
\nmillions, satiate his lust for blood, and create a new and
\never-widening circle of semi-demons to batten on the helpless.<\/p>\n

The very thought drove me mad. A terrible desire came upon me to
\nrid the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at
\nhand, but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to
\nfill the cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge
\ndownward, at the hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and
\nthe eyes fell upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The
\nsight seemed to paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand and
\nglanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above the
\nforehead. The shovel fell from my hand across the box, and as I
\npulled it away the flange of the blade caught the edge of the lid
\nwhich fell over again, and hid the horrid thing from my sight. The
\nlast glimpse I had was of the bloated face, blood-stained and fixed
\nwith a grin of malice which would have held its own in the
\nnethermost hell. I thought and thought what should be my next move,
\nbut my brain seemed on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling
\ngrowing over me. As I waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song
\nsung by merry voices coming closer, and through their song the
\nrolling of heavy wheels and the cracking of whips. The Szgany and
\nthe Slovaks of whom the Count had spoken were coming. With a last
\nlook around and at the box which contained the vile body, I ran
\nfrom the place and gained the Count’s room, determined to rush out
\nat the moment the door should be opened. With strained ears, I
\nlistened, and heard downstairs the grinding of the key in the great
\nlock and the falling back of the heavy door. There must have been
\nsome other means of entry, or some one had a key for one of the
\nlocked doors.<\/p>\n

Then there came the sound of many feet tramping and dying away
\nin some passage which sent up a clanging echo. I turned to run down
\nagain towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance, but
\nat the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the
\ndoor to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust
\nfrom the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that
\nit was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom
\nwas closing round me more closely.<\/p>\n

As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many
\ntramping feet and the crash of weights being set down heavily,
\ndoubtless the boxes, with their freight of earth. There was a sound
\nof hammering. It is the box being nailed down. Now I can hear the
\nheavy feet tramping again along the hall, with with many other idle
\nfeet coming behind them.<\/p>\n

The door is shut, the chains rattle. There is a grinding of the
\nkey in the lock. I can hear the key withdrawn, then another door
\nopens and shuts. I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.<\/p>\n

Hark! In the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy
\nwheels, the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they
\npass into the distance.<\/p>\n

I am alone in the castle with those horrible women. Faugh! Mina
\nis a woman, and there is nought in common. They are devils of the
\nPit!<\/p>\n

I shall not remain alone with them. I shall try to scale the
\ncastle wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of
\nthe gold with me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this
\ndreadful place.<\/p>\n

And then away for home! Away to the quickest and nearest train!
\nAway from the cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil
\nand his children still walk with earthly feet!<\/p>\n

At least God’s mercy is better than that of those monsters, and
\nthe precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep, as a
\nman. Goodbye, all. Mina!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"menu_order":4,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-28","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/28","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/28\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":98,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/28\/revisions\/98"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/28\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=28"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=28"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=28"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=28"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}