{"id":44,"date":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","date_gmt":"2019-02-25T20:46:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/dracula-20\/"},"modified":"2019-02-26T01:30:02","modified_gmt":"2019-02-26T01:30:02","slug":"20","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/20\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter 20 -Jonathan Harker's Journal","rendered":"Chapter 20 -Jonathan Harker’s Journal"},"content":{"raw":"\r\n
\r\n\r\n1 October, evening.\u2014I found Thomas Snelling in his house at\r\nBethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember\r\nanything. The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had\r\nopened to him had proved too much, and he had begun too early on\r\nhis expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed\r\na decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant of Smollet, who\r\nof the two mates was the responsible person. So off I drove to\r\nWalworth, and found Mr. Joseph Smollet at home and in his\r\nshirtsleeves, taking a late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent,\r\nintelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable type of workman,\r\nand with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about the\r\nincident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog-eared notebook,\r\nwhich he produced from some mysterious receptacle about the seat of\r\nhis trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries in thick,\r\nhalf-obliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the boxes.\r\nThere were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from Carfax\r\nand left at 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and another\r\nsix which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then the\r\nCount meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London,\r\nthese places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he\r\nmight distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this\r\nwas done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to\r\ntwo sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on the\r\nnorthern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the\r\nsouth. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out of\r\nhis diabolical scheme, let alone the City itself and the very heart\r\nof fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to\r\nSmollet, and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had\r\nbeen taken from Carfax.\r\n\r\nHe replied, \"Well guv'nor, you've treated me very 'an'some\", I\r\nhad given him half a sovereign, \"an I'll tell yer all I know. I\r\nheard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are\r\nan' 'Ounds, in Pincher's Alley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a\r\nrare dusty job in a old 'ouse at Purfleet. There ain't a many such\r\njobs as this 'ere, an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam Bloxam could\r\ntell ye summut.\"\r\n\r\nI asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that\r\nif he could get me the address it would be worth another half\r\nsovereign to him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood\r\nup, saying that he was going to begin the search then and\r\nthere.\r\n\r\nAt the door he stopped, and said, \"Look 'ere, guv'nor, there\r\nain't no sense in me a keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon, or I\r\nmayn't, but anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much\r\ntonight. Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can\r\ngive me a envelope with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it,\r\nI'll find out where Sam is to be found and post it ye tonight. But\r\nye'd better be up arter 'im soon in the mornin', never mind the\r\nbooze the night afore.\"\r\n\r\nThis was all practical, so one of the children went off with a\r\npenny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the\r\nchange. When she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped\r\nit, and when Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the\r\naddress when found, I took my way to home. We're on the track\r\nanyhow. I am tired tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast\r\nasleep, and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she\r\nhad been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt it frets her to be kept\r\nin the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and the\r\nothers. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed\r\nand worried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The\r\ndoctors were quite right to insist on her being kept out of this\r\ndreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden\r\nof silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with\r\nher under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hard task,\r\nafter all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, and\r\nhas not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we told her of\r\nour decision.\r\n\r\n2 October, evening\u2014A long and trying and exciting day. By the\r\nfirst post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper\r\nenclosed, on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a\r\nsprawling hand, \"Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel\r\nStreet, Walworth. Arsk for the depite.\"\r\n\r\nI got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She\r\nlooked heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined\r\nnot to wake her, but that when I should return from this new\r\nsearch, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she\r\nwould be happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest\r\nher, than in being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr.\r\nSeward for a moment, and told him where I was off to, promising to\r\ncome back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out\r\nanything. I drove to Walworth and found, with some difficulty,\r\nPotter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling misled me, as I asked for\r\nPoter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when I had found\r\nthe court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's lodging\r\nhouse.\r\n\r\nWhen I asked the man who came to the door for the \"depite,\" he\r\nshook his head, and said, \"I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a\r\nperson 'ere. I never 'eard of 'im in all my bloomin' days. Don't\r\nbelieve there ain't nobody of that kind livin' 'ere or\r\nanywheres.\"\r\n\r\nI took out Smollet's letter, and as I read it it seemed to me\r\nthat the lesson of the spelling of the name of the court might\r\nguide me. \"What are you?\" I asked.\r\n\r\n\"I'm the depity,\" he answered.\r\n\r\nI saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling\r\nhad again misled me. A half crown tip put the deputy's knowledge at\r\nmy disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the\r\nremains of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left\r\nfor his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not\r\ntell me where the place of work was situated, but he had a vague\r\nidea that it was some kind of a \"new-fangled ware'us,\" and with\r\nthis slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock\r\nbefore I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I\r\ngot at a coffee shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.\r\nOne of them suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel\r\nStreet a new \"cold storage\" building, and as this suited the\r\ncondition of a \"new-fangled ware'us,\" I at once drove to it. An\r\ninterview with a surly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of\r\nwhom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the track\r\nof Bloxam. He was sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to\r\npay his days wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a\r\nfew questions on a private matter. He was a smart enough fellow,\r\nthough rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised to pay for\r\nhis information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had\r\nmade two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had\r\ntaken from this house to the latter nine great boxes, \"main heavy\r\nones,\" with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose.\r\n\r\nI asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in\r\nPiccadilly, to which he replied, \"Well, guv'nor, I forgits the\r\nnumber, but it was only a few door from a big white church, or\r\nsomethink of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old 'ouse,\r\ntoo, though nothin' to the dustiness of the 'ouse we tooked the\r\nbloomin' boxes from.\"\r\n\r\n\"How did you get in if both houses were empty?\"\r\n\r\n\"There was the old party what engaged me a waitin' in the 'ouse\r\nat Purfleet. He 'elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the\r\ndray. Curse me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an'\r\nhim a old feller, with a white moustache, one that thin you would\r\nthink he couldn't throw a shadder.\"\r\n\r\nHow this phrase thrilled through me!\r\n\r\n\"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of\r\ntea, and me a puffin' an' a blowin' afore I could upend mine\r\nanyhow, an' I'm no chicken, neither.\"\r\n\r\n\"How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?\" I asked.\r\n\r\n\"He was there too. He must 'a started off and got there afore\r\nme, for when I rung of the bell he kem an' opened the door 'isself\r\nan' 'elped me carry the boxes into the 'all.\"\r\n\r\n\"The whole nine?\" I asked.\r\n\r\n\"Yus, there was five in the first load an' four in the second.\r\nIt was main dry work, an' I don't so well remember 'ow I got\r\n'ome.\"\r\n\r\nI interrupted him, \"Were the boxes left in the hall?\"\r\n\r\n\"Yus, it was a big 'all, an' there was nothin' else in it.\"\r\n\r\nI made one more attempt to further matters. \"You didn't have any\r\nkey?\"\r\n\r\n\"Never used no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door\r\n'isself an' shut it again when I druv off. I don't remember the\r\nlast time, but that was the beer.\"\r\n\r\n\"And you can't remember the number of the house?\"\r\n\r\n\"No, sir. But ye needn't have no difficulty about that. It's a\r\n'igh 'un with a stone front with a bow on it, an' 'igh steps up to\r\nthe door. I know them steps, 'avin' 'ad to carry the boxes up with\r\nthree loafers what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give\r\nthem shillin's, an' they seein' they got so much, they wanted more.\r\nBut 'e took one of them by the shoulder and was like to throw 'im\r\ndown the steps, till the lot of them went away cussin'.\"\r\n\r\nI thought that with this description I could find the house, so\r\nhaving paid my friend for his information, I started off for\r\nPiccadilly. I had gained a new painful experience. The Count could,\r\nit was evident, handle the earth boxes himself. If so, time was\r\nprecious, for now that he had achieved a certain amount of\r\ndistribution, he could, by choosing his own time, complete the task\r\nunobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cab, and walked\r\nwestward. Beyond the Junior Constitutional I came across the house\r\ndescribed and was satisfied that this was the next of the lairs\r\narranged by Dracula. The house looked as though it had been long\r\nuntenanted. The windows were encrusted with dust, and the shutters\r\nwere up. All the framework was black with time, and from the iron\r\nthe paint had mostly scaled away. It was evident that up to lately\r\nthere had been a large notice board in front of the balcony. It\r\nhad, however, been roughly torn away, the uprights which had\r\nsupported it still remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw\r\nthere were some loose boards, whose raw edges looked white. I would\r\nhave given a good deal to have been able to see the notice board\r\nintact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to the ownership\r\nof the house. I remembered my experience of the investigation and\r\npurchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that I could find the\r\nformer owner there might be some means discovered of gaining access\r\nto the house.\r\n\r\nThere was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly\r\nside, and nothing could be done, so I went around to the back to\r\nsee if anything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were\r\nactive, the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked\r\none or two of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they\r\ncould tell me anything about the empty house. One of them said that\r\nhe heard it had lately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom.\r\nHe told me, however, that up to very lately there had been a notice\r\nboard of \"For Sale\" up, and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons, &\r\nCandy the house agents could tell me something, as he thought he\r\nremembered seeing the name of that firm on the board. I did not\r\nwish to seem too eager, or to let my informant know or guess too\r\nmuch, so thanking him in the usual manner,I strolled away. It was\r\nnow growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, so I did not\r\nlose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell, Sons, &\r\nCandy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office\r\nin Sackville Street.\r\n\r\nThe gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but\r\nuncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me that the\r\nPiccadilly house, which throughout our interview he called a\r\n\"mansion,\" was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When I\r\nasked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider, and\r\npaused a few seconds before replying, \"It is sold, sir.\"\r\n\r\n\"Pardon me,\" I said, with equal politeness, \"but I have a\r\nspecial reason for wishing to know who purchased it.\"\r\n\r\nAgain he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. \"It\r\nis sold, sir,\" was again his laconic reply.\r\n\r\n\"Surely,\" I said, \"you do not mind letting me know so much.\"\r\n\r\n\"But I do mind,\" he answered. \"The affairs of their clients are\r\nabsolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy.\"\r\n\r\nThis was manifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no\r\nuse arguing with him. I thought I had best meet him on his own\r\nground, so I said, \"Your clients, sir, are happy in having so\r\nresolute a guardian of their confidence. I am myself a professional\r\nman.\"\r\n\r\nHere I handed him my card. \"In this instance I am not prompted\r\nby curiosity, I act on the part of Lord Godalming, who wishes to\r\nknow something of the property which was, he understood, lately for\r\nsale.\"\r\n\r\nThese words put a different complexion on affairs. He said, \"I\r\nwould like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially\r\nwould I like to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small\r\nmatter of renting some chambers for him when he was the Honorable\r\nArthur Holmwood. If you will let me have his lordship's address I\r\nwill consult the House on the subject, and will, in any case,\r\ncommunicate with his lordship by tonight's post. It will be a\r\npleasure if we can so far deviate from our rules as to give the\r\nrequired information to his lordship.\"\r\n\r\nI wanted to secure a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I\r\nthanked him, gave the address at Dr. Seward's and came away. It was\r\nnow dark, and I was tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the\r\nAerated Bread Company and came down to Purfleet by the next\r\ntrain.\r\n\r\nI found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale,\r\nbut she made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful. It wrung\r\nmy heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her and so\r\ncaused her inquietude. Thank God, this will be the last night of\r\nher looking on at our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not\r\nshowing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise\r\nresolution of keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow\r\nmore reconciled, or else the very subject seems to have become\r\nrepugnant to her, for when any accidental allusion is made she\r\nactually shudders. I am glad we made our resolution in time, as\r\nwith such a feeling as this,our growing knowledge would be torture\r\nto her.\r\n\r\nI could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were\r\nalone, so after dinner, followed by a little music to save\r\nappearances even amongst ourselves, I took Mina to her room and\r\nleft her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate with me\r\nthan ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me, but there\r\nwas much to be talked of and I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of\r\ntelling things has made no difference between us.\r\n\r\nWhen I came down again I found the others all gathered round the\r\nfire in the study. In the train I had written my diary so far, and\r\nsimply read it off to them as the best means of letting them get\r\nabreast of my own information.\r\n\r\nWhen I had finished Van Helsing said, \"This has been a great\r\nday's work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of the\r\nmissing boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is\r\nnear the end. But if there be some missing, we must search until we\r\nfind them. Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretch\r\nto his real death.\"\r\n\r\nWe all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke, \"Say!\r\nHow are we going to get into that house?\"\r\n\r\n\"We got into the other,\"answered Lord Godalming quickly.\r\n\r\n\"But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we\r\nhad night and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty\r\ndifferent thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or\r\nnight. I confess I don't see how we are going to get in unless that\r\nagency duck can find us a key of some sort.\"\r\n\r\nLord Godalming's brows contracted, and he stood up and walked\r\nabout the room. By-and-by he stopped and said, turning from one to\r\nanother of us, \"Quincey's head is level. This burglary business is\r\ngetting serious. We got off once all right, but we have now a rare\r\njob on hand. Unless we can find the Count's key basket.\"\r\n\r\nAs nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be\r\nat least advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from\r\nMitchell's, we decided not to take any active step before breakfast\r\ntime. For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in\r\nits various lights and bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing\r\nthis diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to\r\nbed\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nJust a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular.\r\nHer forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she\r\nthinks even in her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look\r\nso haggard as she did this morning. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all\r\nthis. She will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am\r\nsleepy!\r\n\r\nDR. SEWARD'S DIARY\r\n\r\n1 October.\u2014I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change\r\nso rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as\r\nthey always mean something more than his own well-being, they form\r\na more than interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him\r\nafter his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man\r\ncommanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny,\r\nsubjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of mere\r\nearth, he was in the clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses\r\nand wants of us poor mortals.\r\n\r\nI thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I\r\nasked him, \"What about the flies these times?\"\r\n\r\nHe smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way, such a smile as\r\nwould have become the face of Malvolio, as he answered me, \"The\r\nfly, my dear sir, has one striking feature. It's wings are typical\r\nof the aerial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did\r\nwell when they typified the soul as a butterfly!\"\r\n\r\nI thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I\r\nsaid quickly, \"Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?\"\r\n\r\nHis madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled look spread over\r\nhis face as, shaking his head with a decision which I had but\r\nseldom seen in him.\r\n\r\nHe said, \"Oh, no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all I want.\"\r\nHere he brightened up. \"I am pretty indifferent about it at\r\npresent. Life is all right. I have all I want. You must get a new\r\npatient, doctor, if you wish to study zoophagy!\"\r\n\r\nThis puzzled me a little, so I drew him on. \"Then you command\r\nlife. You are a god, I suppose?\"\r\n\r\nHe smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. \"Oh no! Far be\r\nit from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am\r\nnot even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may\r\nstate my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things\r\npurely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied\r\nspiritually!\"\r\n\r\nThis was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch's\r\nappositeness, so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that\r\nby so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic. \"And\r\nwhy with Enoch?\"\r\n\r\n\"Because he walked with God.\"\r\n\r\nI could not see the analogy, but did not like to admit it, so I\r\nharked back to what he had denied. \"So you don't care about life\r\nand you don't want souls. Why not?\" I put my question quickly and\r\nsomewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him.\r\n\r\nThe effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciously relapsed\r\ninto his old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually\r\nfawned upon me as he replied. \"I don't want any souls, indeed,\r\nindeed! I don't. I couldn't use them if I had them. They would be\r\nno manner of use to me. I couldn't eat them or\u00a0\u2026 \"\r\n\r\nHe suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over his\r\nface, like a wind sweep on the surface of the water.\r\n\r\n\"And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you've got\r\nall you require, and you know that you will never want, that is\r\nall. I have friends, good friends, like you, Dr. Seward.\"This was\r\nsaid with a leer of inexpressible cunning. \"I know that I shall\r\nnever lack the means of life!\"\r\n\r\nI think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some\r\nantagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of\r\nsuch as he, a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the\r\npresent it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came\r\naway.\r\n\r\nLater in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have\r\ncome without special reason, but just at present I am so interested\r\nin him that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to\r\nhave anything to help pass the time. Harker is out, following up\r\nclues, and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in\r\nmy study poring over the record prepared by the Harkers. He seems\r\nto think that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light up\r\non some clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without\r\ncause. I would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I\r\nthought that after his last repulse he might not care to go again.\r\nThere was also another reason. Renfield might not speak so freely\r\nbefore a third person as when he and I were alone.\r\n\r\nI found him sitting in the middle of the floor on his stool, a\r\npose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his\r\npart. When I came in, he said at once, as though the question had\r\nbeen waiting on his lips. \"What about souls?\"\r\n\r\nIt was evident then that my surmise had been correct.\r\nUnconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic.\r\nI determined to have the matter out.\r\n\r\n\"What about them yourself?\" I asked.\r\n\r\nHe did not reply for a moment but looked all around him, and up\r\nand down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an\r\nanswer.\r\n\r\n\"I don't want any souls!\" He said in a feeble, apologetic way.\r\nThe matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use\r\nit, to \"be cruel only to be kind.\" So I said, \"You like life, and\r\nyou want life?\"\r\n\r\n\"Oh yes! But that is all right. You needn't worry about\r\nthat!\"\r\n\r\n\"But,\" I asked,\"how are we to get the life without getting the\r\nsoul also?\"\r\n\r\nThis seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up, \"A nice time\r\nyou'll have some time when you're flying out here, with the souls\r\nof thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and\r\ntwittering and moaning all around you. You've got their lives, you\r\nknow, and you must put up with their souls!\"\r\n\r\nSomething seemed to affect his imagination, for he put his\r\nfingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly\r\njust as a small boy does when his face is being soaped. There was\r\nsomething pathetic in it that touched me. It also gave me a lesson,\r\nfor it seemed that before me was a child, only a child, though the\r\nfeatures were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was\r\nevident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,\r\nand knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly\r\nforeign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well\r\nas I could and go with him\r\n\r\nThe first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,\r\nspeaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed\r\nears,\"Would you like some sugar to get your flies around\r\nagain?\"\r\n\r\nHe seemed to wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a\r\nlaugh he replied, \"Not much! Flies are poor things, after all!\"\r\nAfter a pause he added, \"But I don't want their souls buzzing round\r\nme, all the same.\"\r\n\r\n\"Or spiders?\" I went on.\r\n\r\n\"Blow spiders! What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything\r\nin them to eat or\u00a0\u2026 \" He stopped suddenly as though reminded\r\nof a forbidden topic.\r\n\r\n\"So, so!\" I thought to myself, \"this is the second time he has\r\nsuddenly stopped at the word `drink'. What does it mean?\"\r\n\r\nRenfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he\r\nhurried on, as though to distract my attention from it, \"I don't\r\ntake any stock at all in such matters. `Rats and mice and such\r\nsmall deer,' as Shakespeare has it, `chicken feed of the larder'\r\nthey might be called. I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might\r\nas well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to\r\ntry to interest me about the less carnivora, when I know of what is\r\nbefore me.\"\r\n\r\n\"I see,\" I said.\"You want big things that you can make your\r\nteeth meet in? How would you like to breakfast on an elephant?\"\r\n\r\n\"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking?\" He was getting too\r\nwide awake, so I thought I would press him hard.\r\n\r\n\"I wonder,\" I said reflectively, \"what an elephant's soul is\r\nlike!\"\r\n\r\nThe effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his\r\nhigh-horse and became a child again.\r\n\r\n\"I don't want an elephant's soul, or any soul at all!\" he said.\r\nFor a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his\r\nfeet, with his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral\r\nexcitement. \"To hell with you and your souls!\" he shouted. \"Why do\r\nyou plague me about souls? Haven't I got enough to worry, and pain,\r\nto distract me already, without thinking of souls?\"\r\n\r\nHe looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another\r\nhomicidal fit, so I blew my whistle.\r\n\r\nThe instant, however, that I did so he became calm, and said\r\napologetically, \"Forgive me, Doctor. I forgot myself. You do not\r\nneed any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be\r\nirritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I\r\nam working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray\r\ndo not put me in a strait waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot\r\nthink freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will\r\nunderstand!\"\r\n\r\nHe had evidently self-control, so when the attendants came I\r\ntold them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go.\r\nWhen the door was closed he said with considerable dignity and\r\nsweetness, \"Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me.\r\nBelieve me that I am very, very grateful to you!\"\r\n\r\nI thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so I came away.\r\nThere is certainly something to ponder over in this man's state.\r\nSeveral points seem to make what the American interviewer calls \"a\r\nstory,\" if one could only get them in proper order. Here they\r\nare:\r\n\r\nWill not mention \"drinking.\"\r\n\r\nFears the thought of being burdened with the \"soul\" of\r\nanything.\r\n\r\nHas no dread of wanting \"life\" in the future.\r\n\r\nDespises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads\r\nbeing haunted by their souls.\r\n\r\nLogically all these things point one way! He has assurance of\r\nsome kind that he will acquire some higher life.\r\n\r\nHe dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Then it is a\r\nhuman life he looks to!\r\n\r\nAnd the assurance\u00a0\u2026 \u00a0?\r\n\r\nMerciful God! The Count has been to him, and there is some new\r\nscheme of terror afoot!\r\n\r\nLater.\u2014I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my\r\nsuspicion. He grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over\r\nfor a while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came\r\nto the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used\r\nto do in the time which now seems so long ago.\r\n\r\nWhen we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his\r\nsugar as of old. The flies, lethargic with the autumn, were\r\nbeginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the\r\nsubject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He\r\nwent on with his singing, just as though we had not been present.\r\nHe had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebook. We\r\nhad to come away as ignorant as we went in.\r\n\r\nHis is a curious case indeed. We must watch him tonight.\r\n\r\nLETTER, MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY TO LORD GODALMING.\r\n\r\n\"1 October. \"My Lord,\r\n\r\n\"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg,\r\nwith regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker\r\non your behalf, to supply the following information concerning the\r\nsale and purchase of No.347,Piccadilly. The original vendors are\r\nthe executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The\r\npurchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the\r\npurchase himself paying the purchase money in notes `over the\r\ncounter,' if your Lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an\r\nexpression. Beyond this we know nothing whatever of him.\r\n\r\n\"We are, my Lord,\r\n\r\n\"Your Lordship's humble servants,\r\n\r\n\"MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY.\"\r\n\r\nDR. SEWARD'S DIARY\r\n\r\n2 October.\u2014I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told\r\nhim to make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from\r\nRenfield's room, and gave him instructions that if there should be\r\nanything strange he was to call me. After dinner, when we had all\r\ngathered round the fire in the study, Mrs. Harker having gone to\r\nbed, we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker\r\nwas the only one who had any result, and we are in great hopes that\r\nhis clue may be an important one.\r\n\r\nBefore going to bed I went round to the patient's room and\r\nlooked in through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly,\r\nhis heart rose and fell with regular respiration.\r\n\r\nThis morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after\r\nmidnight he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat\r\nloudly. I asked him if that was all. He replied that it was all he\r\nheard. There was something about his manner, so suspicious that I\r\nasked him point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but\r\nadmitted to having \"dozed\" for a while. It is too bad that men\r\ncannot be trusted unless they are watched.\r\n\r\nToday Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey\r\nare looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to\r\nhave horses always in readiness, for when we get the information\r\nwhich we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilize all\r\nthe imported earth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catch\r\nthe Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van\r\nHelsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on\r\nancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which\r\ntheir followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for\r\nwitch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.\r\n\r\nI sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to\r\nsanity in strait waistcoats.\r\n\r\nLater.\u2014We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track,\r\nand our work of tomorrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder\r\nif Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so\r\nfollowed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of\r\nthe monster may be carried to him some subtle way. If we could only\r\nget some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my\r\nargument with him today and his resumption of fly-catching, it\r\nmight afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a\r\nspell\u00a0\u2026 Is he? That wild yell seemed to come from his\r\nroom\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nThe attendant came bursting into my room and told me that\r\nRenfield had somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell,\r\nand when he went to him found him lying on his face on the floor,\r\nall covered with blood. I must go at once\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"
\n

1 October, evening.\u2014I found Thomas Snelling in his house at
\nBethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember
\nanything. The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had
\nopened to him had proved too much, and he had begun too early on
\nhis expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed
\na decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant of Smollet, who
\nof the two mates was the responsible person. So off I drove to
\nWalworth, and found Mr. Joseph Smollet at home and in his
\nshirtsleeves, taking a late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent,
\nintelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable type of workman,
\nand with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about the
\nincident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog-eared notebook,
\nwhich he produced from some mysterious receptacle about the seat of
\nhis trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries in thick,
\nhalf-obliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the boxes.
\nThere were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from Carfax
\nand left at 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and another
\nsix which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then the
\nCount meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London,
\nthese places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he
\nmight distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this
\nwas done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to
\ntwo sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on the
\nnorthern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the
\nsouth. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out of
\nhis diabolical scheme, let alone the City itself and the very heart
\nof fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to
\nSmollet, and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had
\nbeen taken from Carfax.<\/p>\n

He replied, “Well guv’nor, you’ve treated me very ‘an’some”, I
\nhad given him half a sovereign, “an I’ll tell yer all I know. I
\nheard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the ‘Are
\nan’ ‘Ounds, in Pincher’s Alley, as ‘ow he an’ his mate ‘ad ‘ad a
\nrare dusty job in a old ‘ouse at Purfleet. There ain’t a many such
\njobs as this ‘ere, an’ I’m thinkin’ that maybe Sam Bloxam could
\ntell ye summut.”<\/p>\n

I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that
\nif he could get me the address it would be worth another half
\nsovereign to him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood
\nup, saying that he was going to begin the search then and
\nthere.<\/p>\n

At the door he stopped, and said, “Look ‘ere, guv’nor, there
\nain’t no sense in me a keepin’ you ‘ere. I may find Sam soon, or I
\nmayn’t, but anyhow he ain’t like to be in a way to tell ye much
\ntonight. Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can
\ngive me a envelope with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it,
\nI’ll find out where Sam is to be found and post it ye tonight. But
\nye’d better be up arter ‘im soon in the mornin’, never mind the
\nbooze the night afore.”<\/p>\n

This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a
\npenny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the
\nchange. When she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped
\nit, and when Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the
\naddress when found, I took my way to home. We’re on the track
\nanyhow. I am tired tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast
\nasleep, and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she
\nhad been crying. Poor dear, I’ve no doubt it frets her to be kept
\nin the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and the
\nothers. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed
\nand worried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The
\ndoctors were quite right to insist on her being kept out of this
\ndreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden
\nof silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with
\nher under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hard task,
\nafter all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, and
\nhas not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we told her of
\nour decision.<\/p>\n

2 October, evening\u2014A long and trying and exciting day. By the
\nfirst post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper
\nenclosed, on which was written with a carpenter’s pencil in a
\nsprawling hand, “Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel
\nStreet, Walworth. Arsk for the depite.”<\/p>\n

I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She
\nlooked heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined
\nnot to wake her, but that when I should return from this new
\nsearch, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she
\nwould be happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest
\nher, than in being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr.
\nSeward for a moment, and told him where I was off to, promising to
\ncome back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out
\nanything. I drove to Walworth and found, with some difficulty,
\nPotter’s Court. Mr. Smollet’s spelling misled me, as I asked for
\nPoter’s Court instead of Potter’s Court. However, when I had found
\nthe court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran’s lodging
\nhouse.<\/p>\n

When I asked the man who came to the door for the “depite,” he
\nshook his head, and said, “I dunno ‘im. There ain’t no such a
\nperson ‘ere. I never ‘eard of ‘im in all my bloomin’ days. Don’t
\nbelieve there ain’t nobody of that kind livin’ ‘ere or
\nanywheres.”<\/p>\n

I took out Smollet’s letter, and as I read it it seemed to me
\nthat the lesson of the spelling of the name of the court might
\nguide me. “What are you?” I asked.<\/p>\n

“I’m the depity,” he answered.<\/p>\n

I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling
\nhad again misled me. A half crown tip put the deputy’s knowledge at
\nmy disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the
\nremains of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran’s, had left
\nfor his work at Poplar at five o’clock that morning. He could not
\ntell me where the place of work was situated, but he had a vague
\nidea that it was some kind of a “new-fangled ware’us,” and with
\nthis slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o’clock
\nbefore I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I
\ngot at a coffee shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.
\nOne of them suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel
\nStreet a new “cold storage” building, and as this suited the
\ncondition of a “new-fangled ware’us,” I at once drove to it. An
\ninterview with a surly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of
\nwhom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the track
\nof Bloxam. He was sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to
\npay his days wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a
\nfew questions on a private matter. He was a smart enough fellow,
\nthough rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised to pay for
\nhis information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had
\nmade two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had
\ntaken from this house to the latter nine great boxes, “main heavy
\nones,” with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose.<\/p>\n

I asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in
\nPiccadilly, to which he replied, “Well, guv’nor, I forgits the
\nnumber, but it was only a few door from a big white church, or
\nsomethink of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old ‘ouse,
\ntoo, though nothin’ to the dustiness of the ‘ouse we tooked the
\nbloomin’ boxes from.”<\/p>\n

“How did you get in if both houses were empty?”<\/p>\n

“There was the old party what engaged me a waitin’ in the ‘ouse
\nat Purfleet. He ‘elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the
\ndray. Curse me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an’
\nhim a old feller, with a white moustache, one that thin you would
\nthink he couldn’t throw a shadder.”<\/p>\n

How this phrase thrilled through me!<\/p>\n

“Why, ‘e took up ‘is end o’ the boxes like they was pounds of
\ntea, and me a puffin’ an’ a blowin’ afore I could upend mine
\nanyhow, an’ I’m no chicken, neither.”<\/p>\n

“How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?” I asked.<\/p>\n

“He was there too. He must ‘a started off and got there afore
\nme, for when I rung of the bell he kem an’ opened the door ‘isself
\nan’ ‘elped me carry the boxes into the ‘all.”<\/p>\n

“The whole nine?” I asked.<\/p>\n

“Yus, there was five in the first load an’ four in the second.
\nIt was main dry work, an’ I don’t so well remember ‘ow I got
\n‘ome.”<\/p>\n

I interrupted him, “Were the boxes left in the hall?”<\/p>\n

“Yus, it was a big ‘all, an’ there was nothin’ else in it.”<\/p>\n

I made one more attempt to further matters. “You didn’t have any
\nkey?”<\/p>\n

“Never used no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door
\n‘isself an’ shut it again when I druv off. I don’t remember the
\nlast time, but that was the beer.”<\/p>\n

“And you can’t remember the number of the house?”<\/p>\n

“No, sir. But ye needn’t have no difficulty about that. It’s a
\n‘igh ‘un with a stone front with a bow on it, an’ ‘igh steps up to
\nthe door. I know them steps, ‘avin’ ‘ad to carry the boxes up with
\nthree loafers what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give
\nthem shillin’s, an’ they seein’ they got so much, they wanted more.
\nBut ‘e took one of them by the shoulder and was like to throw ‘im
\ndown the steps, till the lot of them went away cussin’.”<\/p>\n

I thought that with this description I could find the house, so
\nhaving paid my friend for his information, I started off for
\nPiccadilly. I had gained a new painful experience. The Count could,
\nit was evident, handle the earth boxes himself. If so, time was
\nprecious, for now that he had achieved a certain amount of
\ndistribution, he could, by choosing his own time, complete the task
\nunobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cab, and walked
\nwestward. Beyond the Junior Constitutional I came across the house
\ndescribed and was satisfied that this was the next of the lairs
\narranged by Dracula. The house looked as though it had been long
\nuntenanted. The windows were encrusted with dust, and the shutters
\nwere up. All the framework was black with time, and from the iron
\nthe paint had mostly scaled away. It was evident that up to lately
\nthere had been a large notice board in front of the balcony. It
\nhad, however, been roughly torn away, the uprights which had
\nsupported it still remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw
\nthere were some loose boards, whose raw edges looked white. I would
\nhave given a good deal to have been able to see the notice board
\nintact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to the ownership
\nof the house. I remembered my experience of the investigation and
\npurchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that I could find the
\nformer owner there might be some means discovered of gaining access
\nto the house.<\/p>\n

There was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly
\nside, and nothing could be done, so I went around to the back to
\nsee if anything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were
\nactive, the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked
\none or two of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they
\ncould tell me anything about the empty house. One of them said that
\nhe heard it had lately been taken, but he couldn’t say from whom.
\nHe told me, however, that up to very lately there had been a notice
\nboard of “For Sale” up, and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons, &
\nCandy the house agents could tell me something, as he thought he
\nremembered seeing the name of that firm on the board. I did not
\nwish to seem too eager, or to let my informant know or guess too
\nmuch, so thanking him in the usual manner,I strolled away. It was
\nnow growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, so I did not
\nlose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell, Sons, &
\nCandy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office
\nin Sackville Street.<\/p>\n

The gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but
\nuncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me that the
\nPiccadilly house, which throughout our interview he called a
\n“mansion,” was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When I
\nasked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider, and
\npaused a few seconds before replying, “It is sold, sir.”<\/p>\n

“Pardon me,” I said, with equal politeness, “but I have a
\nspecial reason for wishing to know who purchased it.”<\/p>\n

Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. “It
\nis sold, sir,” was again his laconic reply.<\/p>\n

“Surely,” I said, “you do not mind letting me know so much.”<\/p>\n

“But I do mind,” he answered. “The affairs of their clients are
\nabsolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy.”<\/p>\n

This was manifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no
\nuse arguing with him. I thought I had best meet him on his own
\nground, so I said, “Your clients, sir, are happy in having so
\nresolute a guardian of their confidence. I am myself a professional
\nman.”<\/p>\n

Here I handed him my card. “In this instance I am not prompted
\nby curiosity, I act on the part of Lord Godalming, who wishes to
\nknow something of the property which was, he understood, lately for
\nsale.”<\/p>\n

These words put a different complexion on affairs. He said, “I
\nwould like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially
\nwould I like to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small
\nmatter of renting some chambers for him when he was the Honorable
\nArthur Holmwood. If you will let me have his lordship’s address I
\nwill consult the House on the subject, and will, in any case,
\ncommunicate with his lordship by tonight’s post. It will be a
\npleasure if we can so far deviate from our rules as to give the
\nrequired information to his lordship.”<\/p>\n

I wanted to secure a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I
\nthanked him, gave the address at Dr. Seward’s and came away. It was
\nnow dark, and I was tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the
\nAerated Bread Company and came down to Purfleet by the next
\ntrain.<\/p>\n

I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale,
\nbut she made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful. It wrung
\nmy heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her and so
\ncaused her inquietude. Thank God, this will be the last night of
\nher looking on at our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not
\nshowing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise
\nresolution of keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow
\nmore reconciled, or else the very subject seems to have become
\nrepugnant to her, for when any accidental allusion is made she
\nactually shudders. I am glad we made our resolution in time, as
\nwith such a feeling as this,our growing knowledge would be torture
\nto her.<\/p>\n

I could not tell the others of the day’s discovery till we were
\nalone, so after dinner, followed by a little music to save
\nappearances even amongst ourselves, I took Mina to her room and
\nleft her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate with me
\nthan ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me, but there
\nwas much to be talked of and I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of
\ntelling things has made no difference between us.<\/p>\n

When I came down again I found the others all gathered round the
\nfire in the study. In the train I had written my diary so far, and
\nsimply read it off to them as the best means of letting them get
\nabreast of my own information.<\/p>\n

When I had finished Van Helsing said, “This has been a great
\nday’s work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of the
\nmissing boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is
\nnear the end. But if there be some missing, we must search until we
\nfind them. Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretch
\nto his real death.”<\/p>\n

We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke, “Say!
\nHow are we going to get into that house?”<\/p>\n

“We got into the other,”answered Lord Godalming quickly.<\/p>\n

“But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we
\nhad night and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty
\ndifferent thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or
\nnight. I confess I don’t see how we are going to get in unless that
\nagency duck can find us a key of some sort.”<\/p>\n

Lord Godalming’s brows contracted, and he stood up and walked
\nabout the room. By-and-by he stopped and said, turning from one to
\nanother of us, “Quincey’s head is level. This burglary business is
\ngetting serious. We got off once all right, but we have now a rare
\njob on hand. Unless we can find the Count’s key basket.”<\/p>\n

As nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be
\nat least advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from
\nMitchell’s, we decided not to take any active step before breakfast
\ntime. For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in
\nits various lights and bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing
\nthis diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to
\nbed\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular.
\nHer forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she
\nthinks even in her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look
\nso haggard as she did this morning. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all
\nthis. She will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am
\nsleepy!<\/p>\n

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY<\/p>\n

1 October.\u2014I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change
\nso rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as
\nthey always mean something more than his own well-being, they form
\na more than interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him
\nafter his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man
\ncommanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny,
\nsubjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of mere
\nearth, he was in the clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses
\nand wants of us poor mortals.<\/p>\n

I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I
\nasked him, “What about the flies these times?”<\/p>\n

He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way, such a smile as
\nwould have become the face of Malvolio, as he answered me, “The
\nfly, my dear sir, has one striking feature. It’s wings are typical
\nof the aerial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did
\nwell when they typified the soul as a butterfly!”<\/p>\n

I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I
\nsaid quickly, “Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?”<\/p>\n

His madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled look spread over
\nhis face as, shaking his head with a decision which I had but
\nseldom seen in him.<\/p>\n

He said, “Oh, no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all I want.”
\nHere he brightened up. “I am pretty indifferent about it at
\npresent. Life is all right. I have all I want. You must get a new
\npatient, doctor, if you wish to study zoophagy!”<\/p>\n

This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on. “Then you command
\nlife. You are a god, I suppose?”<\/p>\n

He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. “Oh no! Far be
\nit from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am
\nnot even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may
\nstate my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things
\npurely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied
\nspiritually!”<\/p>\n

This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch’s
\nappositeness, so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that
\nby so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic. “And
\nwhy with Enoch?”<\/p>\n

“Because he walked with God.”<\/p>\n

I could not see the analogy, but did not like to admit it, so I
\nharked back to what he had denied. “So you don’t care about life
\nand you don’t want souls. Why not?” I put my question quickly and
\nsomewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him.<\/p>\n

The effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciously relapsed
\ninto his old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually
\nfawned upon me as he replied. “I don’t want any souls, indeed,
\nindeed! I don’t. I couldn’t use them if I had them. They would be
\nno manner of use to me. I couldn’t eat them or\u00a0\u2026 ”<\/p>\n

He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over his
\nface, like a wind sweep on the surface of the water.<\/p>\n

“And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you’ve got
\nall you require, and you know that you will never want, that is
\nall. I have friends, good friends, like you, Dr. Seward.”This was
\nsaid with a leer of inexpressible cunning. “I know that I shall
\nnever lack the means of life!”<\/p>\n

I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some
\nantagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of
\nsuch as he, a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the
\npresent it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came
\naway.<\/p>\n

Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have
\ncome without special reason, but just at present I am so interested
\nin him that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to
\nhave anything to help pass the time. Harker is out, following up
\nclues, and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in
\nmy study poring over the record prepared by the Harkers. He seems
\nto think that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light up
\non some clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without
\ncause. I would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I
\nthought that after his last repulse he might not care to go again.
\nThere was also another reason. Renfield might not speak so freely
\nbefore a third person as when he and I were alone.<\/p>\n

I found him sitting in the middle of the floor on his stool, a
\npose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his
\npart. When I came in, he said at once, as though the question had
\nbeen waiting on his lips. “What about souls?”<\/p>\n

It was evident then that my surmise had been correct.
\nUnconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic.
\nI determined to have the matter out.<\/p>\n

“What about them yourself?” I asked.<\/p>\n

He did not reply for a moment but looked all around him, and up
\nand down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an
\nanswer.<\/p>\n

“I don’t want any souls!” He said in a feeble, apologetic way.
\nThe matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use
\nit, to “be cruel only to be kind.” So I said, “You like life, and
\nyou want life?”<\/p>\n

“Oh yes! But that is all right. You needn’t worry about
\nthat!”<\/p>\n

“But,” I asked,”how are we to get the life without getting the
\nsoul also?”<\/p>\n

This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up, “A nice time
\nyou’ll have some time when you’re flying out here, with the souls
\nof thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and
\ntwittering and moaning all around you. You’ve got their lives, you
\nknow, and you must put up with their souls!”<\/p>\n

Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he put his
\nfingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly
\njust as a small boy does when his face is being soaped. There was
\nsomething pathetic in it that touched me. It also gave me a lesson,
\nfor it seemed that before me was a child, only a child, though the
\nfeatures were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was
\nevident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,
\nand knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly
\nforeign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well
\nas I could and go with him<\/p>\n

The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,
\nspeaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed
\nears,”Would you like some sugar to get your flies around
\nagain?”<\/p>\n

He seemed to wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a
\nlaugh he replied, “Not much! Flies are poor things, after all!”
\nAfter a pause he added, “But I don’t want their souls buzzing round
\nme, all the same.”<\/p>\n

“Or spiders?” I went on.<\/p>\n

“Blow spiders! What’s the use of spiders? There isn’t anything
\nin them to eat or\u00a0\u2026 ” He stopped suddenly as though reminded
\nof a forbidden topic.<\/p>\n

“So, so!” I thought to myself, “this is the second time he has
\nsuddenly stopped at the word `drink’. What does it mean?”<\/p>\n

Renfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he
\nhurried on, as though to distract my attention from it, “I don’t
\ntake any stock at all in such matters. `Rats and mice and such
\nsmall deer,’ as Shakespeare has it, `chicken feed of the larder’
\nthey might be called. I’m past all that sort of nonsense. You might
\nas well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to
\ntry to interest me about the less carnivora, when I know of what is
\nbefore me.”<\/p>\n

“I see,” I said.”You want big things that you can make your
\nteeth meet in? How would you like to breakfast on an elephant?”<\/p>\n

“What ridiculous nonsense you are talking?” He was getting too
\nwide awake, so I thought I would press him hard.<\/p>\n

“I wonder,” I said reflectively, “what an elephant’s soul is
\nlike!”<\/p>\n

The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his
\nhigh-horse and became a child again.<\/p>\n

“I don’t want an elephant’s soul, or any soul at all!” he said.
\nFor a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his
\nfeet, with his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral
\nexcitement. “To hell with you and your souls!” he shouted. “Why do
\nyou plague me about souls? Haven’t I got enough to worry, and pain,
\nto distract me already, without thinking of souls?”<\/p>\n

He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another
\nhomicidal fit, so I blew my whistle.<\/p>\n

The instant, however, that I did so he became calm, and said
\napologetically, “Forgive me, Doctor. I forgot myself. You do not
\nneed any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be
\nirritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I
\nam working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray
\ndo not put me in a strait waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot
\nthink freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will
\nunderstand!”<\/p>\n

He had evidently self-control, so when the attendants came I
\ntold them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go.
\nWhen the door was closed he said with considerable dignity and
\nsweetness, “Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me.
\nBelieve me that I am very, very grateful to you!”<\/p>\n

I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so I came away.
\nThere is certainly something to ponder over in this man’s state.
\nSeveral points seem to make what the American interviewer calls “a
\nstory,” if one could only get them in proper order. Here they
\nare:<\/p>\n

Will not mention “drinking.”<\/p>\n

Fears the thought of being burdened with the “soul” of
\nanything.<\/p>\n

Has no dread of wanting “life” in the future.<\/p>\n

Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads
\nbeing haunted by their souls.<\/p>\n

Logically all these things point one way! He has assurance of
\nsome kind that he will acquire some higher life.<\/p>\n

He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Then it is a
\nhuman life he looks to!<\/p>\n

And the assurance\u00a0\u2026 \u00a0?<\/p>\n

Merciful God! The Count has been to him, and there is some new
\nscheme of terror afoot!<\/p>\n

Later.\u2014I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my
\nsuspicion. He grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over
\nfor a while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came
\nto the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used
\nto do in the time which now seems so long ago.<\/p>\n

When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his
\nsugar as of old. The flies, lethargic with the autumn, were
\nbeginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the
\nsubject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He
\nwent on with his singing, just as though we had not been present.
\nHe had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebook. We
\nhad to come away as ignorant as we went in.<\/p>\n

His is a curious case indeed. We must watch him tonight.<\/p>\n

LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY TO LORD GODALMING.<\/p>\n

“1 October. “My Lord,<\/p>\n

“We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg,
\nwith regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker
\non your behalf, to supply the following information concerning the
\nsale and purchase of No.347,Piccadilly. The original vendors are
\nthe executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The
\npurchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the
\npurchase himself paying the purchase money in notes `over the
\ncounter,’ if your Lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an
\nexpression. Beyond this we know nothing whatever of him.<\/p>\n

“We are, my Lord,<\/p>\n

“Your Lordship’s humble servants,<\/p>\n

“MITCHELL, SONS & CANDY.”<\/p>\n

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY<\/p>\n

2 October.\u2014I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told
\nhim to make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from
\nRenfield’s room, and gave him instructions that if there should be
\nanything strange he was to call me. After dinner, when we had all
\ngathered round the fire in the study, Mrs. Harker having gone to
\nbed, we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker
\nwas the only one who had any result, and we are in great hopes that
\nhis clue may be an important one.<\/p>\n

Before going to bed I went round to the patient’s room and
\nlooked in through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly,
\nhis heart rose and fell with regular respiration.<\/p>\n

This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after
\nmidnight he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat
\nloudly. I asked him if that was all. He replied that it was all he
\nheard. There was something about his manner, so suspicious that I
\nasked him point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but
\nadmitted to having “dozed” for a while. It is too bad that men
\ncannot be trusted unless they are watched.<\/p>\n

Today Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey
\nare looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to
\nhave horses always in readiness, for when we get the information
\nwhich we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilize all
\nthe imported earth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catch
\nthe Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van
\nHelsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on
\nancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which
\ntheir followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for
\nwitch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.<\/p>\n

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to
\nsanity in strait waistcoats.<\/p>\n

Later.\u2014We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track,
\nand our work of tomorrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder
\nif Renfield’s quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so
\nfollowed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of
\nthe monster may be carried to him some subtle way. If we could only
\nget some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my
\nargument with him today and his resumption of fly-catching, it
\nmight afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a
\nspell\u00a0\u2026 Is he? That wild yell seemed to come from his
\nroom\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that
\nRenfield had somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell,
\nand when he went to him found him lying on his face on the floor,
\nall covered with blood. I must go at once\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"menu_order":20,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-44","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/44","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\/44\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":82,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/44\/revisions\/82"}],"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\/44\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=44"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=44"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=44"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=44"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}