{"id":40,"date":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","date_gmt":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/dracula-16\/"},"modified":"2019-02-26T01:26:58","modified_gmt":"2019-02-26T01:26:58","slug":"dracula-16","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/dracula-16\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter 16 - Dr. Seward's Diary\u2014cont.","rendered":"Chapter 16 – Dr. Seward’s Diary\u2014cont."},"content":{"raw":"\r\n
\r\n\r\nIt was just a quarter before twelve o'clock when we got into the\r\nchurchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional\r\ngleams of moonlight between the dents of the heavy clouds that\r\nscudded across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with\r\nVan Helsing slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come\r\nclose to the tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared the\r\nproximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset\r\nhim, but he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of\r\nthe proceeding was in some way a counteractant to his grief. The\r\nProfessor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation\r\namongst us for various reasons, solved the difficulty by entering\r\nfirst himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He\r\nthen lit a dark lantern and pointed to a coffin. Arthur stepped\r\nforward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, \"You were with me\r\nhere yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?\"\r\n\r\n\"It was.\"\r\n\r\nThe Professor turned to the rest saying, \"You hear, and yet\r\nthere is no one who does not believe with me.'\r\n\r\nHe took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the\r\ncoffin. Arthur looked on, very pale but silent. When the lid was\r\nremoved he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there\r\nwas a leaden coffin, or at any rate, had not thought of it. When he\r\nsaw the rent in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an\r\ninstant, but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a\r\nghastly whiteness. He was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the\r\nleaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.\r\n\r\nThe coffin was empty!\r\n\r\nFor several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken\r\nby Quincey Morris, \"Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all\r\nI want. I wouldn't ask such a thing ordinarily, I wouldn't so\r\ndishonor you as to imply a doubt, but this is a mystery that goes\r\nbeyond any honor or dishonor. Is this your doing?\"\r\n\r\n\"I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not\r\nremoved or touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago my\r\nfriend Seward and I came here, with good purpose, believe me. I\r\nopened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it as\r\nnow, empty. We then waited, and saw something white come through\r\nthe trees. The next day we came here in daytime and she lay there.\r\nDid she not, friend John?\r\n\r\n\"Yes.\"\r\n\r\n\"That night we were just in time. One more so small child was\r\nmissing, and we find it, thank God,unharmed amongst the graves.\r\nYesterday I came here before sundown, for at sundown the Un-Dead\r\ncan move. I waited here all night till the sun rose, but I saw\r\nnothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over\r\nthe clamps of those doors garlic, which the Un-Dead cannot bear,\r\nand other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus,\r\nso tonight before the sundown I took away my garlic and other\r\nthings. And so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me.\r\nSo far there is much that is strange. Wait you with me outside,\r\nunseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be. So,\"\r\nhere he shut the dark slide of his lantern,\"now to the outside.\" He\r\nopened the door, and we filed out, he coming last and locking the\r\ndoor behind him.\r\n\r\nOh! But it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the\r\nterror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by,\r\nand the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds\r\ncrossing and passing, like the gladness and sorrow of a man's life.\r\nHow sweet it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of\r\ndeath and decay. How humanizing to see the red lighting of the sky\r\nbeyond the hill, and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks\r\nthe life of a great city. Each in his own way was solemn and\r\novercome. Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving to\r\ngrasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was\r\nmyself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside\r\ndoubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusions. Quincey Morris was\r\nphlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts\r\nthem in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has at\r\nstake. Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of\r\ntobacco and began to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a\r\ndefinite way. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like\r\nthin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white\r\nnapkin. Next he took out a double handful of some whitish stuff,\r\nlike dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it\r\ninto the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it\r\ninto thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the\r\ndoor and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this,\r\nand being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur\r\nand Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious.\r\n\r\nHe answered, \"I am closing the tomb so that the Un-Dead may not\r\nenter.\"\r\n\r\n\"And is that stuff you have there going to do it?\"\r\n\r\n\"It Is.\"\r\n\r\n\"What is that which you are using?\" This time the question was\r\nby Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he\r\nanswered.\r\n\r\n\"The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an\r\nIndulgence.\"\r\n\r\nIt was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we\r\nfelt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as\r\nthe Professor's, a purpose which could thus use the to him most\r\nsacred of things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful\r\nsilence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but\r\nhidden from the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others,\r\nespecially Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by my former\r\nvisits to this watching horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour\r\nago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did\r\ntombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper\r\nso seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass\r\nwave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously,\r\nand never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful\r\npresage through the night.\r\n\r\nThere was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then\r\nfrom the Professor a keen \"S-s-s-s!\" He pointed, and far down the\r\navenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure,\r\nwhich held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at\r\nthe moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving\r\nclouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman,\r\ndressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face,\r\nfor it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child.\r\nThere was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in\r\nsleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were\r\nstarting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as\r\nhe stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the\r\nwhite figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to\r\nsee clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold\r\nas ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the\r\nfeatures of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The\r\nsweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the\r\npurity to voluptuous wantonness.\r\n\r\nVan Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all\r\nadvanced too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of\r\nthe tomb. Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide. By the\r\nconcentrated light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the\r\nlips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had\r\ntrickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death\r\nrobe.\r\n\r\nWe shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light\r\nthat even Van Helsing's iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to\r\nme, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have\r\nfallen.\r\n\r\nWhen Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it\r\nbore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a\r\ncat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's\r\neyes in form and color, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell\r\nfire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the\r\nremnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to\r\nbe killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked,\r\nher eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed\r\nwith a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it!\r\nWith a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a\r\ndevil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her\r\nbreast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child\r\ngave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a\r\ncold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur. When\r\nshe advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he\r\nfell back and hid his face in his hands.\r\n\r\nShe still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous\r\ngrace, said, \"Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to\r\nme. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together.\r\nCome, my husband, come!\"\r\n\r\nThere was something diabolically sweet in her tones, something\r\nof the tinkling of glass when struck, which rang through the brains\r\neven of us who heard the words addressed to another.\r\n\r\nAs for Arthur, he seemed under a spell, moving his hands from\r\nhis face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when\r\nVan Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden\r\ncrucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted\r\nface, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.\r\n\r\nWhen within a foot or two of the door, however,she stopped, as\r\nif arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her\r\nface was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp,\r\nwhich had now no quiver from Van Helsing's nerves. Never did I see\r\nsuch baffled malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever\r\nbe seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful color became livid, the\r\neyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell fire, the brows were\r\nwrinkled as though the folds of flesh were the coils of Medusa's\r\nsnakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square,\r\nas in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face\r\nmeant death, if looks could kill, we saw it at that moment.\r\n\r\nAnd so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, se\r\nremained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her\r\nmeans of entry.\r\n\r\nVan Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, \"Answer me, oh\r\nmy friend! Am I to proceed in my work?\"\r\n\r\n\"Do as you will, friend. Do as you will. There can be no horror\r\nlike this ever any more.\" And he groaned in spirit.\r\n\r\nQuincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his\r\narms. We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing\r\nheld it down. Coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the\r\nchinks some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there. We all\r\nlooked on with horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back,\r\nthe woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own,\r\npass through the interstice where scarce a knife blade could have\r\ngone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor\r\ncalmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door.\r\n\r\nWhen this was done, he lifted the child and said, \"Come now, my\r\nfriends. We can do no more till tomorrow. There is a funeral at\r\nnoon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends\r\nof the dead will all be gone by two, and when the sexton locks the\r\ngate we shall remain. Then there is more to do, but not like this\r\nof tonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, and by\r\ntomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the\r\npolice will find him, as on the other night, and then to home.\"\r\n\r\nComing close to Arthur, he said, \"My friend Arthur, you have had\r\na sore trial, but after, when you look back, you will see how it\r\nwas necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this\r\ntime tomorrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have\r\ndrunk of the sweet waters. So do not mourn over-much. Till then I\r\nshall not ask you to forgive me.\"\r\n\r\nArthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each\r\nother on the way. We had left behind the child in safety, and were\r\ntired. So we all slept with more or less reality of sleep.\r\n\r\n29 September, night.\u2014A little before twelve o'clock we three,\r\nArthur, Quincey Morris, and myself, called for the Professor. It\r\nwas odd to notice that by common consent we had all put on black\r\nclothes. Of course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning,\r\nbut the rest of us wore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by\r\nhalf-past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official\r\nobservation, so that when the gravediggers had completed their task\r\nand the sexton under the belief that every one had gone, had locked\r\nthe gate, we had the place all to ourselves. Van Helsing, instead\r\nof his little black bag, had with him a long leather one,something\r\nlike a cricketing bag. It was manifestly of fair weight.\r\n\r\nWhen we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die\r\nout up the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention,\r\nfollowed the Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we\r\nentered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the\r\nlantern, which he lit, and also two wax candles, which, when\r\nlighted, he stuck by melting their own ends, on other coffins, so\r\nthat they might give light sufficient to work by. When he again\r\nlifted the lid off Lucy's coffin we all looked, Arthur trembling\r\nlike an aspen, and saw that the corpse lay there in all its death\r\nbeauty. But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but loathing\r\nfor the foul Thing which had taken Lucy's shape without her soul. I\r\ncould see even Arthur's face grow hard as he looked. Presently he\r\nsaid to Van Helsing, \"Is this really Lucy's body, or only a demon\r\nin her shape?\"\r\n\r\n\"It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you shall\r\nsee her as she was, and is.\"\r\n\r\nShe seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there, the\r\npointed teeth, the blood stained, voluptuous mouth, which made one\r\nshudder to see, the whole carnal and unspirited appearance, seeming\r\nlike a devilish mockery of Lucy's sweet purity. Van Helsing, with\r\nhis usual methodicalness, began taking the various contents from\r\nhis bag and placing them ready for use. First he took out a\r\nsoldering iron and some plumbing solder, and then small oil lamp,\r\nwhich gave out, when lit in a corner of the tomb, gas which burned\r\nat a fierce heat with a blue flame, then his operating knives,\r\nwhich he placed to hand, and last a round wooden stake, some two\r\nand a half or three inches thick and about three feet long. One end\r\nof it was hardened by charring in the fire, and was sharpened to a\r\nfine point. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such as in\r\nhouseholds is used in the coal cellar for breaking the lumps. To\r\nme, a doctor's preperations for work of any kind are stimulating\r\nand bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and\r\nQuincey was to cause them a sort of consternation. They both,\r\nhowever, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet.\r\n\r\nWhen all was ready, Van Helsing said,\"Before we do anything, let\r\nme tell you this. It is out of the lore and experience of the\r\nancients and of all those who have studied the powers of the\r\nUn-Dead. When they become such, there comes with the change the\r\ncurse of immortality. They cannot die, but must go on age after age\r\nadding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world. For all\r\nthat die from the preying of the Un-dead become themselves Un-dead,\r\nand prey on their kind. And so the circle goes on ever widening,\r\nlike as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend\r\nArthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy\r\ndie, or again, last night when you open your arms to her, you would\r\nin time, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as they call it\r\nin Eastern europe, and would for all time make more of those\r\nUn-Deads that so have filled us with horror. The career of this so\r\nunhappy dear lady is but just begun. Those children whose blood she\r\nsucked are not as yet so much the worse, but if she lives on,\r\nUn-Dead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power over\r\nthem they come to her, and so she draw their blood with that so\r\nwicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease. The tiny\r\nwounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play\r\nunknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all,\r\nwhen this now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul\r\nof the poor lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of\r\nworking wickedness by night and growing more debased in the\r\nassimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with the other\r\nAngels. So that, my friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that\r\nshall strike the blow that sets her free. To this I am willing, but\r\nis there none amongst us who has a better right? Will it be no joy\r\nto think of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is\r\nnot, `It was my hand that sent her to the stars. It was the hand of\r\nhim that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself\r\nhave chosen, had it been to her to choose?' Tell me if there be\r\nsuch a one amongst us?\"\r\n\r\nWe all looked at Arthur. He saw too, what we all did, the\r\ninfinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which\r\nwould restore Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory. He\r\nstepped forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his\r\nface was as pale as snow, \"My true friend, from the bottom of my\r\nbroken heart I thank you. Tell me what I am to do, and I shall not\r\nfalter!\"\r\n\r\nVan Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said,\"Brave lad! A\r\nmoment's courage, and it is done. This stake must be driven through\r\nher. It well be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it\r\nwill be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your\r\npain was great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you\r\ntread on air. But you must not falter when once you have begun.\r\nOnly think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we\r\npray for you all the time.\"\r\n\r\n\"Go on,\"said Arthur hoarsely.\"Tell me what I am to do.\"\r\n\r\n\"Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place to the point\r\nover the heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin\r\nour prayer for the dead, I shall read him, I have here the book,\r\nand the others shall follow, strike in God's name, that so all may\r\nbe well with the dead that we love and that the Un-Dead pass away.\"\r\nArthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was\r\nset on action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Van\r\nHelsing opened his missal and began to read, and Quincey and I\r\nfollowed as well as we could.\r\n\r\nArthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could\r\nsee its dint in the white flesh. Then he struck with all his\r\nmight.\r\n\r\nThe thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous, bloodcurdling\r\nscreech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered\r\nand twisted in wild contortions. The sharp white champed together\r\ntill the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson\r\nfoam. But Arthur never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as\r\nhis untrembling arm rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the\r\nmercybearing stake, whilst the blood from the pierced heart welled\r\nand spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to\r\nshine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so that our\r\nvoices seemed to ring through the little vault.\r\n\r\nAnd then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and\r\nthe teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay\r\nstill. The terrible task was over.\r\n\r\nThe hammer fell from Arthur's hand. He reeled and would have\r\nfallen had we not caught him. The great drops of sweat sprang from\r\nhis forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed\r\nbeen an awful strain on him, and had he not been forced to his task\r\nby more than human considerations he could never have gone through\r\nwith it. For a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did\r\nnot look towards the coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of\r\nstartled surprise ran from one to the other of us. We gazed so\r\neagerly that Arthur rose, for he had been seated on the ground, and\r\ncame and looked too, and then a glad strange light broke over his\r\nface and dispelled altogether the gloom of horror that lay upon\r\nit.\r\n\r\nThere, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we has so\r\ndreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was\r\nyielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as\r\nwe had seen her in life, with her face of unequalled sweetness and\r\npurity. True that there were there, as we had seen them in life,\r\nthe traces of care and pain and waste. But these were all dear to\r\nus, for they marked her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt\r\nthat the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and\r\nform was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to\r\nreign for ever.\r\n\r\nVan Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and\r\nsaid to him, \"And now, Arthur my friend, dear lad, am I not\r\nforgiven?\"\r\n\r\nThe reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old\r\nman's hand in his, and raising it to his lips, pressed it, and\r\nsaid, \"Forgiven! God bless you that you have given my dear one her\r\nsoul again, and me peace.\" He put his hands on the Professor's\r\nshoulder, and laying his head on his breast, cried for a while\r\nsilently, whilst we stood unmoving.\r\n\r\nWhen he raised his head Van Helsing said to him, \"And now, my\r\nchild, you may kiss her. Kiss her dead lips if you will, as she\r\nwould have you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinning\r\ndevil now, not any more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer\r\nshe is the devil's Un-Dead. She is God's true dead, whose soul is\r\nwith Him!\"\r\n\r\nArthur bent and kissed her, and then we sent him and Quincey out\r\nof the tomb. The Professor and I sawed the top off the stake,\r\nleaving the point of it in the body. Then we cut off the head and\r\nfilled the mouth with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin,\r\nscrewed on the coffin lid, and gathering up our belongings, came\r\naway. When the Professor locked the door he gave the key to\r\nArthur.\r\n\r\nOutside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the birds sang,\r\nand it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch.\r\nThere was gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at\r\nrest ourselves on one account, and we were glad, though it was with\r\na tempered joy.\r\n\r\nBefore we moved away Van Helsing said,\"Now, my friends, one step\r\nor our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves. But there\r\nremains a greater task, to find out the author of all this or\r\nsorrow and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow, but\r\nit is a long task, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it,\r\nand pain. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to believe,\r\nall of us, is it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes!\r\nAnd do we not promise to go on to the bitter end?\"\r\n\r\nEach in turn, we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then\r\nsaid the Professor as we moved off, \"Two nights hence you shall\r\nmeet with me and dine together at seven of the clock with friend\r\nJohn. I shall entreat two others, two that you know not as yet, and\r\nI shall be ready to all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend\r\nJohn, you come with me home, for I have much to consult you about,\r\nand you can help me. Tonight I leave for Amsterdam, but shall\r\nreturn tomorrow night. And then begins our great quest. But first I\r\nshall have much to say, so that you may know what to do and to\r\ndread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew. For there\r\nis a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on the\r\nploughshare we must not draw back.\"\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n","rendered":"
\n

It was just a quarter before twelve o’clock when we got into the
\nchurchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional
\ngleams of moonlight between the dents of the heavy clouds that
\nscudded across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with
\nVan Helsing slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come
\nclose to the tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared the
\nproximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset
\nhim, but he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of
\nthe proceeding was in some way a counteractant to his grief. The
\nProfessor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation
\namongst us for various reasons, solved the difficulty by entering
\nfirst himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He
\nthen lit a dark lantern and pointed to a coffin. Arthur stepped
\nforward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, “You were with me
\nhere yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?”<\/p>\n

“It was.”<\/p>\n

The Professor turned to the rest saying, “You hear, and yet
\nthere is no one who does not believe with me.’<\/p>\n

He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the
\ncoffin. Arthur looked on, very pale but silent. When the lid was
\nremoved he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there
\nwas a leaden coffin, or at any rate, had not thought of it. When he
\nsaw the rent in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an
\ninstant, but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a
\nghastly whiteness. He was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the
\nleaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.<\/p>\n

The coffin was empty!<\/p>\n

For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken
\nby Quincey Morris, “Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all
\nI want. I wouldn’t ask such a thing ordinarily, I wouldn’t so
\ndishonor you as to imply a doubt, but this is a mystery that goes
\nbeyond any honor or dishonor. Is this your doing?”<\/p>\n

“I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not
\nremoved or touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago my
\nfriend Seward and I came here, with good purpose, believe me. I
\nopened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it as
\nnow, empty. We then waited, and saw something white come through
\nthe trees. The next day we came here in daytime and she lay there.
\nDid she not, friend John?<\/p>\n

“Yes.”<\/p>\n

“That night we were just in time. One more so small child was
\nmissing, and we find it, thank God,unharmed amongst the graves.
\nYesterday I came here before sundown, for at sundown the Un-Dead
\ncan move. I waited here all night till the sun rose, but I saw
\nnothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over
\nthe clamps of those doors garlic, which the Un-Dead cannot bear,
\nand other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus,
\nso tonight before the sundown I took away my garlic and other
\nthings. And so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me.
\nSo far there is much that is strange. Wait you with me outside,
\nunseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be. So,”
\nhere he shut the dark slide of his lantern,”now to the outside.” He
\nopened the door, and we filed out, he coming last and locking the
\ndoor behind him.<\/p>\n

Oh! But it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the
\nterror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by,
\nand the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds
\ncrossing and passing, like the gladness and sorrow of a man’s life.
\nHow sweet it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of
\ndeath and decay. How humanizing to see the red lighting of the sky
\nbeyond the hill, and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks
\nthe life of a great city. Each in his own way was solemn and
\novercome. Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving to
\ngrasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was
\nmyself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside
\ndoubt and to accept Van Helsing’s conclusions. Quincey Morris was
\nphlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts
\nthem in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has at
\nstake. Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of
\ntobacco and began to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a
\ndefinite way. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like
\nthin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white
\nnapkin. Next he took out a double handful of some whitish stuff,
\nlike dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it
\ninto the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it
\ninto thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the
\ndoor and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this,
\nand being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur
\nand Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious.<\/p>\n

He answered, “I am closing the tomb so that the Un-Dead may not
\nenter.”<\/p>\n

“And is that stuff you have there going to do it?”<\/p>\n

“It Is.”<\/p>\n

“What is that which you are using?” This time the question was
\nby Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he
\nanswered.<\/p>\n

“The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an
\nIndulgence.”<\/p>\n

It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we
\nfelt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as
\nthe Professor’s, a purpose which could thus use the to him most
\nsacred of things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful
\nsilence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but
\nhidden from the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others,
\nespecially Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by my former
\nvisits to this watching horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour
\nago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did
\ntombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper
\nso seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass
\nwave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously,
\nand never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful
\npresage through the night.<\/p>\n

There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then
\nfrom the Professor a keen “S-s-s-s!” He pointed, and far down the
\navenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure,
\nwhich held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at
\nthe moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving
\nclouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman,
\ndressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face,
\nfor it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child.
\nThere was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in
\nsleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were
\nstarting forward, but the Professor’s warning hand, seen by us as
\nhe stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the
\nwhite figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to
\nsee clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold
\nas ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the
\nfeatures of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The
\nsweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the
\npurity to voluptuous wantonness.<\/p>\n

Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all
\nadvanced too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of
\nthe tomb. Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide. By the
\nconcentrated light that fell on Lucy’s face we could see that the
\nlips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had
\ntrickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death
\nrobe.<\/p>\n

We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light
\nthat even Van Helsing’s iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to
\nme, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have
\nfallen.<\/p>\n

When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it
\nbore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a
\ncat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy’s
\neyes in form and color, but Lucy’s eyes unclean and full of hell
\nfire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the
\nremnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to
\nbe killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked,
\nher eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed
\nwith a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it!
\nWith a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a
\ndevil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her
\nbreast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child
\ngave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a
\ncold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur. When
\nshe advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he
\nfell back and hid his face in his hands.<\/p>\n

She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous
\ngrace, said, “Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to
\nme. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together.
\nCome, my husband, come!”<\/p>\n

There was something diabolically sweet in her tones, something
\nof the tinkling of glass when struck, which rang through the brains
\neven of us who heard the words addressed to another.<\/p>\n

As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell, moving his hands from
\nhis face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when
\nVan Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden
\ncrucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted
\nface, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.<\/p>\n

When within a foot or two of the door, however,she stopped, as
\nif arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her
\nface was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp,
\nwhich had now no quiver from Van Helsing’s nerves. Never did I see
\nsuch baffled malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever
\nbe seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful color became livid, the
\neyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell fire, the brows were
\nwrinkled as though the folds of flesh were the coils of Medusa’s
\nsnakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square,
\nas in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face
\nmeant death, if looks could kill, we saw it at that moment.<\/p>\n

And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, se
\nremained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her
\nmeans of entry.<\/p>\n

Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, “Answer me, oh
\nmy friend! Am I to proceed in my work?”<\/p>\n

“Do as you will, friend. Do as you will. There can be no horror
\nlike this ever any more.” And he groaned in spirit.<\/p>\n

Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his
\narms. We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing
\nheld it down. Coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the
\nchinks some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there. We all
\nlooked on with horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back,
\nthe woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own,
\npass through the interstice where scarce a knife blade could have
\ngone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor
\ncalmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door.<\/p>\n

When this was done, he lifted the child and said, “Come now, my
\nfriends. We can do no more till tomorrow. There is a funeral at
\nnoon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends
\nof the dead will all be gone by two, and when the sexton locks the
\ngate we shall remain. Then there is more to do, but not like this
\nof tonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, and by
\ntomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the
\npolice will find him, as on the other night, and then to home.”<\/p>\n

Coming close to Arthur, he said, “My friend Arthur, you have had
\na sore trial, but after, when you look back, you will see how it
\nwas necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this
\ntime tomorrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have
\ndrunk of the sweet waters. So do not mourn over-much. Till then I
\nshall not ask you to forgive me.”<\/p>\n

Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each
\nother on the way. We had left behind the child in safety, and were
\ntired. So we all slept with more or less reality of sleep.<\/p>\n

29 September, night.\u2014A little before twelve o’clock we three,
\nArthur, Quincey Morris, and myself, called for the Professor. It
\nwas odd to notice that by common consent we had all put on black
\nclothes. Of course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning,
\nbut the rest of us wore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by
\nhalf-past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official
\nobservation, so that when the gravediggers had completed their task
\nand the sexton under the belief that every one had gone, had locked
\nthe gate, we had the place all to ourselves. Van Helsing, instead
\nof his little black bag, had with him a long leather one,something
\nlike a cricketing bag. It was manifestly of fair weight.<\/p>\n

When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die
\nout up the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention,
\nfollowed the Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we
\nentered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the
\nlantern, which he lit, and also two wax candles, which, when
\nlighted, he stuck by melting their own ends, on other coffins, so
\nthat they might give light sufficient to work by. When he again
\nlifted the lid off Lucy’s coffin we all looked, Arthur trembling
\nlike an aspen, and saw that the corpse lay there in all its death
\nbeauty. But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but loathing
\nfor the foul Thing which had taken Lucy’s shape without her soul. I
\ncould see even Arthur’s face grow hard as he looked. Presently he
\nsaid to Van Helsing, “Is this really Lucy’s body, or only a demon
\nin her shape?”<\/p>\n

“It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you shall
\nsee her as she was, and is.”<\/p>\n

She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there, the
\npointed teeth, the blood stained, voluptuous mouth, which made one
\nshudder to see, the whole carnal and unspirited appearance, seeming
\nlike a devilish mockery of Lucy’s sweet purity. Van Helsing, with
\nhis usual methodicalness, began taking the various contents from
\nhis bag and placing them ready for use. First he took out a
\nsoldering iron and some plumbing solder, and then small oil lamp,
\nwhich gave out, when lit in a corner of the tomb, gas which burned
\nat a fierce heat with a blue flame, then his operating knives,
\nwhich he placed to hand, and last a round wooden stake, some two
\nand a half or three inches thick and about three feet long. One end
\nof it was hardened by charring in the fire, and was sharpened to a
\nfine point. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such as in
\nhouseholds is used in the coal cellar for breaking the lumps. To
\nme, a doctor’s preperations for work of any kind are stimulating
\nand bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and
\nQuincey was to cause them a sort of consternation. They both,
\nhowever, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet.<\/p>\n

When all was ready, Van Helsing said,”Before we do anything, let
\nme tell you this. It is out of the lore and experience of the
\nancients and of all those who have studied the powers of the
\nUn-Dead. When they become such, there comes with the change the
\ncurse of immortality. They cannot die, but must go on age after age
\nadding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world. For all
\nthat die from the preying of the Un-dead become themselves Un-dead,
\nand prey on their kind. And so the circle goes on ever widening,
\nlike as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend
\nArthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy
\ndie, or again, last night when you open your arms to her, you would
\nin time, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as they call it
\nin Eastern europe, and would for all time make more of those
\nUn-Deads that so have filled us with horror. The career of this so
\nunhappy dear lady is but just begun. Those children whose blood she
\nsucked are not as yet so much the worse, but if she lives on,
\nUn-Dead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power over
\nthem they come to her, and so she draw their blood with that so
\nwicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease. The tiny
\nwounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play
\nunknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all,
\nwhen this now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul
\nof the poor lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of
\nworking wickedness by night and growing more debased in the
\nassimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with the other
\nAngels. So that, my friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that
\nshall strike the blow that sets her free. To this I am willing, but
\nis there none amongst us who has a better right? Will it be no joy
\nto think of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is
\nnot, `It was my hand that sent her to the stars. It was the hand of
\nhim that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself
\nhave chosen, had it been to her to choose?’ Tell me if there be
\nsuch a one amongst us?”<\/p>\n

We all looked at Arthur. He saw too, what we all did, the
\ninfinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which
\nwould restore Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory. He
\nstepped forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his
\nface was as pale as snow, “My true friend, from the bottom of my
\nbroken heart I thank you. Tell me what I am to do, and I shall not
\nfalter!”<\/p>\n

Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said,”Brave lad! A
\nmoment’s courage, and it is done. This stake must be driven through
\nher. It well be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it
\nwill be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your
\npain was great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you
\ntread on air. But you must not falter when once you have begun.
\nOnly think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we
\npray for you all the time.”<\/p>\n

“Go on,”said Arthur hoarsely.”Tell me what I am to do.”<\/p>\n

“Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place to the point
\nover the heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin
\nour prayer for the dead, I shall read him, I have here the book,
\nand the others shall follow, strike in God’s name, that so all may
\nbe well with the dead that we love and that the Un-Dead pass away.”
\nArthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was
\nset on action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Van
\nHelsing opened his missal and began to read, and Quincey and I
\nfollowed as well as we could.<\/p>\n

Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could
\nsee its dint in the white flesh. Then he struck with all his
\nmight.<\/p>\n

The thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous, bloodcurdling
\nscreech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered
\nand twisted in wild contortions. The sharp white champed together
\ntill the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson
\nfoam. But Arthur never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as
\nhis untrembling arm rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the
\nmercybearing stake, whilst the blood from the pierced heart welled
\nand spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to
\nshine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so that our
\nvoices seemed to ring through the little vault.<\/p>\n

And then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and
\nthe teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay
\nstill. The terrible task was over.<\/p>\n

The hammer fell from Arthur’s hand. He reeled and would have
\nfallen had we not caught him. The great drops of sweat sprang from
\nhis forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed
\nbeen an awful strain on him, and had he not been forced to his task
\nby more than human considerations he could never have gone through
\nwith it. For a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did
\nnot look towards the coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of
\nstartled surprise ran from one to the other of us. We gazed so
\neagerly that Arthur rose, for he had been seated on the ground, and
\ncame and looked too, and then a glad strange light broke over his
\nface and dispelled altogether the gloom of horror that lay upon
\nit.<\/p>\n

There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we has so
\ndreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was
\nyielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as
\nwe had seen her in life, with her face of unequalled sweetness and
\npurity. True that there were there, as we had seen them in life,
\nthe traces of care and pain and waste. But these were all dear to
\nus, for they marked her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt
\nthat the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and
\nform was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to
\nreign for ever.<\/p>\n

Van Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and
\nsaid to him, “And now, Arthur my friend, dear lad, am I not
\nforgiven?”<\/p>\n

The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old
\nman’s hand in his, and raising it to his lips, pressed it, and
\nsaid, “Forgiven! God bless you that you have given my dear one her
\nsoul again, and me peace.” He put his hands on the Professor’s
\nshoulder, and laying his head on his breast, cried for a while
\nsilently, whilst we stood unmoving.<\/p>\n

When he raised his head Van Helsing said to him, “And now, my
\nchild, you may kiss her. Kiss her dead lips if you will, as she
\nwould have you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinning
\ndevil now, not any more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer
\nshe is the devil’s Un-Dead. She is God’s true dead, whose soul is
\nwith Him!”<\/p>\n

Arthur bent and kissed her, and then we sent him and Quincey out
\nof the tomb. The Professor and I sawed the top off the stake,
\nleaving the point of it in the body. Then we cut off the head and
\nfilled the mouth with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin,
\nscrewed on the coffin lid, and gathering up our belongings, came
\naway. When the Professor locked the door he gave the key to
\nArthur.<\/p>\n

Outside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the birds sang,
\nand it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch.
\nThere was gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at
\nrest ourselves on one account, and we were glad, though it was with
\na tempered joy.<\/p>\n

Before we moved away Van Helsing said,”Now, my friends, one step
\nor our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves. But there
\nremains a greater task, to find out the author of all this or
\nsorrow and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow, but
\nit is a long task, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it,
\nand pain. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to believe,
\nall of us, is it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes!
\nAnd do we not promise to go on to the bitter end?”<\/p>\n

Each in turn, we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then
\nsaid the Professor as we moved off, “Two nights hence you shall
\nmeet with me and dine together at seven of the clock with friend
\nJohn. I shall entreat two others, two that you know not as yet, and
\nI shall be ready to all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend
\nJohn, you come with me home, for I have much to consult you about,
\nand you can help me. Tonight I leave for Amsterdam, but shall
\nreturn tomorrow night. And then begins our great quest. But first I
\nshall have much to say, so that you may know what to do and to
\ndread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew. For there
\nis a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on the
\nploughshare we must not draw back.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"menu_order":16,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-40","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/40","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":1,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/40\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":78,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/40\/revisions\/78"}],"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\/40\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=40"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=40"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=40"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=40"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}