{"id":51,"date":"2019-02-25T20:47:00","date_gmt":"2019-02-25T20:47:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/dracula-27\/"},"modified":"2019-02-26T01:33:58","modified_gmt":"2019-02-26T01:33:58","slug":"27","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/chapter\/27\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter 27 - Mina Harker's Journal","rendered":"Chapter 27 – Mina Harker’s Journal"},"content":{"raw":"
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\r\n\r\n1 November.\u2014All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed.\r\nThe horses seem to know that they are being kindly treated, for\r\nthey go willingly their full stage at best speed. We have now had\r\nso many changes and find the same thing so constantly that we are\r\nencouraged to think that the journey will be an easy one. Dr. Van\r\nHelsing is laconic, he tells the farmers that he is hurrying to\r\nBistritz, and pays them well to make the exchange of horses. We get\r\nhot soup, or coffee, or tea, and off we go. It is a lovely country.\r\nFull of beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave,\r\nand strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities. They are\r\nvery, very superstitious. In the first house where we stopped, when\r\nthe woman who served us saw the scar on my forehead, she crossed\r\nherself and put out two fingers towards me, to keep off the evil\r\neye. I believe they went to the trouble of putting an extra amount\r\nof garlic into our food, and I can't abide garlic. Ever since then\r\nI have taken care not to take off my hat or veil, and so have\r\nescaped their suspicions. We are travelling fast, and as we have no\r\ndriver with us to carry tales, we go ahead of scandal. But I\r\ndaresay that fear of the evil eye will follow hard behind us all\r\nthe way. The Professor seems tireless. All day he would not take\r\nany rest, though he made me sleep for a long spell. At sunset time\r\nhe hypnotized me, and he says I answered as usual,\"darkness,\r\nlapping water and creaking wood.\" So our enemy is still on the\r\nriver. I am afraid to think of Jonathan, but somehow I have now no\r\nfear for him, or for myself. I write this whilst we wait in a\r\nfarmhouse for the horses to be ready. Dr. Van Helsing is sleeping.\r\nPoor dear, he looks very tired and old and grey, but his mouth is\r\nset as firmly as a conqueror's. Even in his sleep he is intense\r\nwith resolution. When we have well started I must make him rest\r\nwhilst I drive. I shall tell him that we have days before us, and\r\nhe must not break down when most of all his strength will be\r\nneeded\u00a0\u2026 All is ready. We are off shortly.\r\n\r\n2 November, morning.\u2014I was successful, and we took turns driving\r\nall night. Now the day is on us, bright though cold. There is a\r\nstrange heaviness in the air. I say heaviness for want of a better\r\nword. I mean that it oppresses us both. It is very cold, and only\r\nour warm furs keep us comfortable. At dawn Van Helsing hypnotized\r\nme. He says I answered \"darkness, creaking wood and roaring water,\"\r\nso the river is changing as they ascend. I do hope that my darling\r\nwill not run any chance of danger, more than need be, but we are in\r\nGod's hands.\r\n\r\n2 November, night.\u2014All day long driving. The country gets wilder\r\nas we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti\r\nseemed so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather\r\nround us and tower in front. We both seem in good spirits. I think\r\nwe make an effort each to cheer the other, in the doing so we cheer\r\nourselves. Dr. Van Helsing says that by morning we shall reach the\r\nBorgo Pass. The houses are very few here now, and the Professor\r\nsays that the last horse we got will have to go on with us, as we\r\nmay not be able to change. He got two in addition to the two we\r\nchanged, so that now we have a rude four-in-hand. The dear horses\r\nare patient and good, and they give us no trouble. We are not\r\nworried with other travellers, and so even I can drive. We shall\r\nget to the Pass in daylight. We do not want to arrive before. So we\r\ntake it easy, and have each a long rest in turn. Oh, what will\r\ntomorrow bring to us? We go to seek the place where my poor darling\r\nsuffered so much. God grant that we may be guided aright, and that\r\nHe will deign to watch over my husband and those dear to us both,\r\nand who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I am not worthy in His\r\nsight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and shall be until He may\r\ndeign to let me stand forth in His sight as one of those who have\r\nnot incurred His wrath.\r\n\r\nMEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING\r\n\r\n4 November.\u2014This to my old and true friend John Seward, M. D.,\r\nof Purefleet, London, in case I may not see him. It may explain. It\r\nis morning, and I write by a fire which all the night I have kept\r\nalive, Madam Mina aiding me. It is cold, cold. So cold that the\r\ngrey heavy sky is full of snow, which when it falls will settle for\r\nall winter as the ground is hardening to receive it. It seems to\r\nhave affected Madam Mina. She has been so heavy of head all day\r\nthat she was not like herself. She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps!\r\nShe who is usual so alert, have done literally nothing all the day.\r\nShe even have lost her appetite. She make no entry into her little\r\ndiary, she who write so faithful at every pause. Something whisper\r\nto me that all is not well. However, tonight she is more vif. Her\r\nlong sleep all day have refresh and restore her, for now she is all\r\nsweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try to hypnotize her, but\r\nalas! with no effect. The power has grown less and less with each\r\nday, and tonight it fail me altogether. Well, God's will be done,\r\nwhatever it may be, and whithersoever it may lead!\r\n\r\nNow to the historical, for as Madam Mina write not in her\r\nstenography, I must, in my cumbrous old fashion, that so each day\r\nof us may not go unrecorded.\r\n\r\nWe got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday morning.\r\nWhen I saw the signs of the dawn I got ready for the hypnotism. We\r\nstopped our carriage, and got down so that there might be no\r\ndisturbance. I made a couch with furs, and Madam Mina, lying down,\r\nyield herself as usual, but more slow and more short time than\r\never, to the hypnotic sleep. As before, came the answer, \"darkness\r\nand the swirling of water.\" Then she woke, bright and radiant and\r\nwe go on our way and soon reach the Pass. At this time and place,\r\nshe become all on fire with zeal. Some new guiding power be in her\r\nmanifested, for she point to a road and say, \"This is the way.\"\r\n\r\n\"How know you it?\" I ask.\r\n\r\n\"Of course I know it,' she answer, and with a pause, add, \"Have\r\nnot my Jonathan travelled it and wrote of his travel?\"\r\n\r\nAt first I think somewhat strange, but soon I see that there be\r\nonly one such byroad. It is used but little, and very different\r\nfrom the coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz, which is more\r\nwide and hard, and more of use.\r\n\r\nSo we came down this road. When we meet other ways, not always\r\nwere we sure that they were roads at all, for they be neglect and\r\nlight snow have fallen, the horses know and they only. I give rein\r\nto them, and they go on so patient. By and by we find all the\r\nthings which Jonathan have note in that wonderful diary of him.\r\nThen we go on for long, long hours and hours. At the first, I tell\r\nMadam Mina to sleep. She try, and she succeed. She sleep all the\r\ntime, till at the last, I feel myself to suspicious grow, and\r\nattempt to wake her. But she sleep on, and I may not wake her\r\nthough I try. I do not wish to try too hard lest I harm her. For I\r\nknow that she have suffer much, and sleep at times be all-in-all to\r\nher. I think I drowse myself, for all of sudden I feel guilt, as\r\nthough I have done something. I find myself bolt up, with the reins\r\nin my hand, and the good horses go along jog, jog, just as ever. I\r\nlook down and find Madam Mina still asleep. It is now not far off\r\nsunset time, and over the snow the light of the sun flow in big\r\nyellow flood, so that we throw great long shadow on where the\r\nmountain rise so steep. For we are going up, and up, and all is oh,\r\nso wild and rocky, as though it were the end of the world.\r\n\r\nThen I arouse Madam Mina. This time she wake with not much\r\ntrouble, and then I try to put her to hypnotic sleep. But she sleep\r\nnot, being as though I were not. Still I try and try, till all at\r\nonce I find her and myself in dark, so I look round, and find that\r\nthe sun have gone down. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn and look at\r\nher. She is now quite awake, and look so well as I never saw her\r\nsince that night at Carfax when we first enter the Count's house. I\r\nam amaze, and not at ease then. But she is so bright and tender and\r\nthoughtful for me that I forget all fear. I light a fire, for we\r\nhave brought supply of wood with us, and she prepare food while I\r\nundo the horses and set them, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then\r\nwhen I return to the fire she have my supper ready. I go to help\r\nher, but she smile, and tell me that she have eat already. That she\r\nwas so hungry that she would not wait. I like it not, and I have\r\ngrave doubts. But I fear to affright her, and so I am silent of it.\r\nShe help me and I eat alone, and then we wrap in fur and lie beside\r\nthe fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch. But presently I\r\nforget all of watching. And when I sudden remember that I watch, I\r\nfind her lying quiet, but awake, and looking at me with so bright\r\neyes. Once, twice more the same occur, and I get much sleep till\r\nbefore morning. When I wake I try to hypnotize her, but alas!\r\nThough she shut her eyes obedient, she may not sleep. The sun rise\r\nup, and up, and up, and then sleep come to her too late, but so\r\nheavy that she will not wake. I have to lift her up, and place her\r\nsleeping in the carriage when I have harnessed the horses and made\r\nall ready. Madam still sleep, and she look in her sleep more\r\nhealthy and more redder than before. And I like it not. And I am\r\nafraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things, even to think\r\nbut I must go on my way. The stake we play for is life and death,\r\nor more than these, and we must not flinch.\r\n\r\n5 November, morning.\u2014Let me be accurate in everything, for\r\nthough you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at\r\nthe first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors\r\nand the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.\r\n\r\nAll yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the mountains,\r\nand moving into a more and more wild and desert land. There are\r\ngreat, frowning precipices and much falling water, and Nature seem\r\nto have held sometime her carnival. Madam Mina still sleep and\r\nsleep. And though I did have hunger and appeased it, I could not\r\nwaken her, even for food. I began to fear that the fatal spell of\r\nthe place was upon her, tainted as she is with that Vampire\r\nbaptism. \"Well,\" said I to myself, \"if it be that she sleep all the\r\nday, it shall also be that I do not sleep at night.\" As we travel\r\non the rough road, for a road of an ancient and imperfect kind\r\nthere was, I held down my head and slept.\r\n\r\nAgain I waked with a sense of guilt and of time passed, and\r\nfound Madam Mina still sleeping, and the sun low down. But all was\r\nindeed changed. The frowning mountains seemed further away, and we\r\nwere near the top of a steep rising hill, on summit of which was\r\nsuch a castle as Jonathan tell of in his diary. At once I exulted\r\nand feared. For now, for good or ill, the end was near.\r\n\r\nI woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hypnotize her, but alas!\r\nunavailing till too late. Then, ere the great dark came upon us,\r\nfor even after down sun the heavens reflected the gone sun on the\r\nsnow, and all was for a time in a great twilight. I took out the\r\nhorses and fed them in what shelter I could. Then I make a fire,\r\nand near it I make Madam Mina, now awake and more charming than\r\never, sit comfortable amid her rugs. I got ready food, but she\r\nwould not eat, simply saying that she had not hunger. I did not\r\npress her, knowing her unavailingness. But I myself eat, for I must\r\nneeds now be strong for all. Then, with the fear on me of what\r\nmight be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam\r\nMina sat. And over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke\r\nit fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time,\r\nso still as one dead. And she grew whiter and even whiter till the\r\nsnow was not more pale, and no word she said. But when I drew near,\r\nshe clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from\r\nhead to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel.\r\n\r\nI said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet, \"Will\r\nyou not come over to the fire?\" for I wished to make a test of what\r\nshe could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she\r\nstopped, and stood as one stricken.\r\n\r\n\"Why not go on?\" I asked. She shook her head, and coming back,\r\nsat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of\r\none waked from sleep, she said simply,\"I cannot!\" and remained\r\nsilent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of\r\nthose that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her\r\nbody, yet her soul was safe!\r\n\r\nPresently the horses began to scream, and tore at their tethers\r\ntill I came to them and quieted them. When they did feel my hands\r\non them, they whinnied low as in joy,and licked at my hands and\r\nwere quiet for a time. Many times through the night did I come to\r\nthem, till it arrive to the cold hour when all nature is at lowest,\r\nand every time my coming was with quiet of them. In the cold hour\r\nthe fire began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish\r\nit, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a chill\r\nmist. Even in the dark there was a light of some kind, as there\r\never is over snow, and it seemed as though the snow flurries and\r\nthe wreaths of mist took shape as of women with trailing garments.\r\nAll was in dead, grim silence only that the horses whinnied and\r\ncowered, as if in terror of the worst. I began to fear, horrible\r\nfears. But then came to me the sense of safety in that ring wherein\r\nI stood. I began too, to think that my imaginings were of the\r\nnight, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and\r\nall the terrible anxiety. It was as though my memories of all\r\nJonathan's horrid experience were befooling me. For the snow flakes\r\nand the mist began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as\r\nthough a shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him.\r\nAnd then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror\r\nas men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so\r\nthat they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when\r\nthese weird figures drew near and circled round. I looked at her,\r\nbut she sat calm, and smiled at me. When I would have stepped to\r\nthe fire to replenish it, she caught me and held me back, and\r\nwhispered, like a voice that one hears in a dream, so low it\r\nwas.\r\n\r\n\"No! No! Do not go without. Here you are safe!\"\r\n\r\nI turned to her, and looking in her eyes said, \"But you? It is\r\nfor you that I fear!\"\r\n\r\nWhereat she laughed, a laugh low and unreal, and said, \"Fear for\r\nme! Why fear for me? None safer in all the world from them than I\r\nam,\"and as I wondered at the meaning of her words, a puff of wind\r\nmade the flame leap up, and I see the red scar on her forehead.\r\nThen, alas! I knew. Did I not, I would soon have learned, for the\r\nwheeling figures of mist and snow came closer, but keeping ever\r\nwithout the Holy circle. Then they began to materialize till, if\r\nGod have not taken away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes.\r\nThere were before me in actual flesh the same three women that\r\nJonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat. I\r\nknew the swaying round forms, the bright hard eyes, the white\r\nteeth, the ruddy color, the voluptuous lips. They smiled ever at\r\npoor dear Madam Mina. And as their laugh came through the silence\r\nof the night, they twined their arms and pointed to her, and said\r\nin those so sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the\r\nintolerable sweetness of the water glasses, \"Come, sister. Come to\r\nus. Come!\"\r\n\r\nIn fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, and my heart with\r\ngladness leapt like flame. For oh! the terror in her sweet eyes,\r\nthe repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart that was all of\r\nhope. God be thanked she was not, yet of them. I seized some of the\r\nfirewood which was by me, and holding out some of the Wafer,\r\nadvanced on them towards the fire. They drew back before me, and\r\nlaughed their low horrid laugh. I fed the fire, and feared them\r\nnot. For I knew that we were safe within the ring, which she could\r\nnot leave no more than they could enter. The horses had ceased to\r\nmoan, and lay still on the ground. The snow fell on them softly,\r\nand they grew whiter. I knew that there was for the poor beasts no\r\nmore of terror.\r\n\r\nAnd so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall\r\nthrough the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe\r\nand terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon\r\nlife was to me again. At the first coming of the dawn the horrid\r\nfigures melted in the whirling mist and snow. The wreaths of\r\ntransparent gloom moved away towards the castle, and were lost.\r\n\r\nInstinctively, with the dawn coming, I turned to Madam Mina,\r\nintending to hypnotize her. But she lay in a deep and sudden sleep,\r\nfrom which I could not wake her. I tried to hypnotize through her\r\nsleep, but she made no response, none at all, and the day broke. I\r\nfear yet to stir. I have made my fire and have seen the horses,\r\nthey are all dead. Today I have much to do here, and I keep waiting\r\ntill the sun is up high. For there may be places where I must go,\r\nwhere that sunlight, though snow and mist obscure it, will be to me\r\na safety.\r\n\r\nI will strengthen me with breakfast, and then I will do my\r\nterrible work. Madam Mina still sleeps, and God be thanked! She is\r\ncalm in her sleep\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nJONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL\r\n\r\n4 November, evening.\u2014The accident to the launch has been a\r\nterrible thing for us. Only for it we should have overtaken the\r\nboat long ago, and by now my dear Mina would have been free. I fear\r\nto think of her, off on the wolds near that horrid place. We have\r\ngot horses, and we follow on the track. I note this whilst\r\nGodalming is getting ready. We have our arms. The Szgany must look\r\nout if they mean to fight. Oh, if only Morris and Seward were with\r\nus. We must only hope! If I write no more Goodby Mina! God bless\r\nand keep you.\r\n\r\nDR. SEWARD'S DIARY\r\n\r\n5 November.\u2014With the dawn we saw the body of Szgany before us\r\ndashing away from the river with their leiter wagon. They\r\nsurrounded it in a cluster, and hurried along as though beset. The\r\nsnow is falling lightly and there is a strange excitement in the\r\nair. It may be our own feelings, but the depression is strange. Far\r\noff I hear the howling of wolves. The snow brings them down from\r\nthe mountains, and there are dangers to all of us, and from all\r\nsides. The horses are nearly ready, and we are soon off. We ride to\r\ndeath of some one. God alone knows who, or where, or what, or when,\r\nor how it may be\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nDR. VAN HELSING'S MEMORANDUM\r\n\r\n5 November, afternoon.\u2014I am at least sane. Thank God for that\r\nmercy at all events, though the proving it has been dreadful. When\r\nI left Madam Mina sleeping within the Holy circle, I took my way to\r\nthe castle. The blacksmith hammer which I took in the carriage from\r\nVeresti was useful, though the doors were all open I broke them off\r\nthe rusty hinges, lest some ill intent or ill chance should close\r\nthem, so that being entered I might not get out. Jonathan's bitter\r\nexperience served me here. By memory of his diary I found my way to\r\nthe old chapel, for I knew that here my work lay. The air was\r\noppressive. It seemed as if there was some sulphurous fume, which\r\nat times made me dizzy. Either there was a roaring in my ears or I\r\nheard afar off the howl of wolves. Then I bethought me of my dear\r\nMadam Mina, and I was in terrible plight. The dilemma had me\r\nbetween his horns.\r\n\r\nHer, I had not dare to take into this place, but left safe from\r\nthe Vampire in that Holy circle. And yet even there would be the\r\nwolf! I resolve me that my work lay here, and that as to the wolves\r\nwe must submit, if it were God's will. At any rate it was only\r\ndeath and freedom beyond. So did I choose for her. Had it but been\r\nfor myself the choice had been easy, the maw of the wolf were\r\nbetter to rest in than the grave of the Vampire! So I make my\r\nchoice to go on with my work.\r\n\r\nI knew that there were at least three graves to find, graves\r\nthat are inhabit. So I search, and search, and I find one of them.\r\nShe lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and voluptuous beauty\r\nthat I shudder as though I have come to do murder. Ah, I doubt not\r\nthat in the old time, when such things were, many a man who set\r\nforth to do such a task as mine, found at the last his heart fail\r\nhim, and then his nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till\r\nthe mere beauty and the fascination of the wanton Undead have\r\nhypnotize him. And he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the\r\nVampire sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman\r\nopen and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss, and\r\nthe man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the Vampire\r\nfold. One more to swell the grim and grisly ranks of the\r\nUndead!\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nThere is some fascination, surely, when I am moved by the mere\r\npresence of such an one, even lying as she lay in a tomb fretted\r\nwith age and heavy with the dust of centuries, though there be that\r\nhorrid odor such as the lairs of the Count have had. Yes, I was\r\nmoved. I, Van Helsing, with all my purpose and with my motive for\r\nhate. I was moved to a yearning for delay which seemed to paralyze\r\nmy faculties and to clog my very soul. It may have been that the\r\nneed of natural sleep, and the strange oppression of the air were\r\nbeginning to overcome me. Certain it was that I was lapsing into\r\nsleep, the open eyed sleep of one who yields to a sweet\r\nfascination, when there came through the snow stilled air a long,\r\nlow wail, so full of woe and pity that it woke me like the sound of\r\na clarion. For it was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that I\r\nheard.\r\n\r\nThen I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by\r\nwrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark\r\none. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, lest\r\nonce more I should begin to be enthrall. But I go on searching\r\nuntil, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if made to one\r\nmuch beloved that other fair sister which, like Jonathan I had seen\r\nto gather herself out of the atoms of the mist. She was so fair to\r\nlook on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous, that\r\nthe very instinct of man in me, which calls some of my sex to love\r\nand to protect one of hers, made my head whirl with new emotion.\r\nBut God be thanked, that soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not\r\ndied out of my ears. And, before the spell could be wrought further\r\nupon me, I had nerved myself to my wild work. By this tim e I had\r\nsearched all the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tell. And\r\nas there had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in\r\nthe night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead\r\nexistent. There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest.\r\nHuge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word.\r\n\r\nDRACULA\r\n\r\nThis then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom so\r\nmany more were due. Its emptiness spoke eloquent to make certain\r\nwhat I knew. Before I began to restore these women to their dead\r\nselves through my awful work, I laid in Dracula's tomb some of the\r\nWafer, and so banished him from it, Undead, for ever.\r\n\r\nThen began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had it been but\r\none, it had been easy, comparative. But three! To begin twice more\r\nafter I had been through a deed of horror. For it was terrible with\r\nthe sweet Miss Lucy, what would it not be with these strange ones\r\nwho had survived through centuries, and who had been strenghtened\r\nby the passing of the years. Who would, if they could, have fought\r\nfor their foul lives\u00a0\u2026\r\n\r\nOh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not been\r\nnerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living over whom hung\r\nsuch a pall of fear, I could not have gone on. I tremble and\r\ntremble even yet, though till all was over, God be thanked, my\r\nnerve did stand. Had I not seen the repose in the first place, and\r\nthe gladness that stole over it just ere the final dissolution\r\ncame, as realization that the soul had been won, I could not have\r\ngone further with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid\r\nscreeching as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form,\r\nand lips of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my\r\nwork undone. But it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them\r\nnow and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of\r\ndeath for a short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly had\r\nmy knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to\r\nmelt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death\r\nthat should have come centuries agone had at last assert himself\r\nand say at once and loud,\"I am here!\"\r\n\r\nBefore I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never\r\nmore can the Count enter there Undead.\r\n\r\nWhen I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she woke\r\nfrom her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that I had endured\r\ntoo much.\r\n\r\n\"Come!\" she said, \"come away from this awful place! Let us go to\r\nmeet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us.\" She was looking\r\nthin and pale and weak. But her eyes were pure and glowed with\r\nfervor. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind\r\nwas full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep.\r\n\r\nAnd so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go eastward\r\nto meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell me that she know\r\nare coming to meet us.\r\n\r\nMINA HARKER'S JOURNAL\r\n\r\n6 November.\u2014It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and\r\nI took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was coming.\r\nWe did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for w e\r\nhad to take heavy rugs and wraps with us. We dared not face the\r\npossibility of being left without warmth in the cold and the snow.\r\nWe had to take some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect\r\ndesolation, and so far as we could see through the snowfall, there\r\nwas not even the sign of habitation. When we had gone about a mile,\r\nI was tired with the heavy walking and sat down to rest. Then we\r\nlooked back and saw where the clear line of Dracula's castle cut\r\nthe sky. For we were so deep under the hill whereon it was set that\r\nthe angle of perspective of the Carpathian mountains was far below\r\nit. We saw it in all its grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the\r\nsummit of a sheer precipice, and with seemingly a great gap between\r\nit and the steep of the adjacent mountain on any side. There was\r\nsomething wild and uncanny about the place. We could hear the\r\ndistant howling of wolves. They were far off, but the sound, even\r\nthough coming muffled through the deadening snowfall, was full of\r\nterror. I knew from the way Dr. Van Helsing was searching about\r\nthat he was trying to seek some strategic point, where we would be\r\nless exposed in case of attack. The rough roadway still led\r\ndownwards. We could trace it through the drifted snow.\r\n\r\nIn a little while the Professor signalled to me, so I got up and\r\njoined him. He had found a wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow\r\nin a rock, with an entrance like a doorway between two boulders. He\r\ntook me by the hand and drew me in.\r\n\r\n\"See!\" he said,\"here you will be in shelter. And if the wolves\r\ndo come I can meet them one by one.\"\r\n\r\nHe brought in our furs, and made a snug nest for me, and got out\r\nsome provisions and forced them upon me. But I could not eat, to\r\neven try to do so was repulsive to me, and much as I would have\r\nliked to please him, I could not bring myself to the attempt. He\r\nlooked very sad, but did not reproach me. Taking his field glasses\r\nfrom the case, he stood on the top of the rock, and began to search\r\nthe horizon.\r\n\r\nSuddenly he called out, \"Look! Madam Mina, look!Look!\"\r\n\r\nI sprang up and stood beside him on the rock. He handed me his\r\nglasses and pointed. The snow was now falling more heavily, and\r\nswirled about fiercely, for a high wind was beginning to blow.\r\nHowever, there were times when there were pauses between the snow\r\nflurries and I could see a long way round. From the height where we\r\nwere it was possible to see a great distance. And far off, beyond\r\nthe white waste of snow, I could see the river lying like a black\r\nribbon in kinks and curls as it wound its way. Straight in front of\r\nus and not far off, in fact so near that I wondered we had not\r\nnoticed before, came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the\r\nmidst of them was a cart, a long leiter wagon which swept from side\r\nto side, like a dog's tail wagging, with each stern inequality of\r\nthe road. Outlined against the snow as they were, I could see from\r\nthe men's clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some\r\nkind.\r\n\r\nOn the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw\r\nit, for I felt that the end was coming. The evening was now drawing\r\nclose, and well I knew that at sunset the Thing, which was till\r\nthen imprisoned there, would take new freedom and could in any of\r\nmany forms elude pursuit. In fear I turned to the Professor. To my\r\nconsternation, however, he was not there. An instant later, I saw\r\nhim below me. Round the rock he had drawn a circle, such as we had\r\nfound shelter in last night.\r\n\r\nWhen he had completed it he stood beside me again saying, \"At\r\nleast you shall be safe here from him!\" He took the glasses from\r\nme, and at the next lull of the snow swept the whole space below\r\nus. \"See,\"he said,\"they come quickly. They are flogging the horses,\r\nand galloping as hard as they can.\"\r\n\r\nHe paused and went on in a hollow voice, \"They are racing for\r\nthe sunset. We may be too late. God's will be done!\" Down came\r\nanother blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was\r\nblotted out. It soon passed, however, and once more his glasses\r\nwere fixed on the plain.\r\n\r\nThen came a sudden cry, \"Look! Look! Look! See, two horsemen\r\nfollow fast, coming up from the south. It must be Quincey and John.\r\nTake the glass. Look before the snow blots it all out!\" I took it\r\nand looked. The two men might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. I knew\r\nat all events that neither of them was Jonathan. At the same time I\r\nknew that Jonathan was not far off. Looking around I saw on the\r\nnorth side of the coming party two other men, riding at breakneck\r\nspeed. One of them I knew was Jonathan, and the other I took, of\r\ncourse, to be Lord Godalming. They too, were pursuing the party\r\nwith the cart. When I told the Professor he shouted in glee like a\r\nschoolboy, and after looking intently till a snow fall made sight\r\nimpossible, he laid his Winchester rifle ready for use against the\r\nboulder at the opening of our shelter.\r\n\r\n\"They are all converging,\" he said.\"When the time comes we shall\r\nhave gypsies on all sides.\" I got out my revolver ready to hand,\r\nfor whilst we were speaking the howling of wolves came louder and\r\ncloser. When the snow storm abated a moment we looked again. It was\r\nstrange to see the snow falling in such heavy flakes close to us,\r\nand beyond, the sun shining more and more brightly as it sank down\r\ntowards the far mountain tops. Sweeping the glass all around us I\r\ncould see here and there dots moving singly and in twos and threes\r\nand larger numbers. The wolves were gathering for their prey.\r\n\r\nEvery instant seemed an age whilst we waited. The wind came now\r\nin fierce bursts, and the snow was driven with fury as it swept\r\nupon us in circling eddies. At times we could not see an arm's\r\nlength before us. But at others, as the hollow sounding wind swept\r\nby us, it seemed to clear the air space around us so that we could\r\nsee afar off. We had of late been so accustomed to watch for\r\nsunrise and sunset, that we knew with fair accuracy when it would\r\nbe. And we knew that before long the sun would set. It was hard to\r\nbelieve that by our watches it was less than an hour that we waited\r\nin that rocky shelter before the various bodies began to converge\r\nclose upon us. The wind came now with fiercer and more bitter\r\nsweeps, and more steadily from the north. It seemingly had driven\r\nthe snow clouds from us, for with only occasional bursts, the snow\r\nfell. We could distinguish clearly the individuals of each party,\r\nthe pursued and the pursuers. Strangely enough those pursued did\r\nnot seem to realize, or at least to care, that they were pursued.\r\nThey seemed, however, to hasten with redoubled speed as the sun\r\ndropped lower and lower on the mountain tops.\r\n\r\nCloser and closer they drew. The Professor and I crouched down\r\nbehind our rock, and held our weapons ready. I could see that he\r\nwas determined that they should not pass. One and all were quite\r\nunaware of our presence.\r\n\r\nAll at once two voices shouted out to, \"Halt!\" One was my\r\nJonathan's, raised in a high key of passion. The other Mr. Morris'\r\nstrong resolute tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have\r\nknown the language, but there was no mistaking the tone, in\r\nwhatever tongue the words were spoken. Instinctively they reined\r\nin, and at the instant Lord Godalming and Jonathan dashed up at one\r\nside and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris on the other. The leader of the\r\ngypsies, a splendid looking fellow who sat his horse like a\r\ncentaur, waved them back, and in a fierce voice gave to his\r\ncompanions some word to proceed. They lashed the horses which\r\nsprang forward. But the four men raised their Winchester rifles,\r\nand in an unmistakable way commanded them to stop. At the same\r\nmoment Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and pointed our\r\nweapons at them. Seeing that they were surrounded the men tightened\r\ntheir reins and drew up. The leader turned to them and gave a word\r\nat which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he carried,\r\nknife or pistol,and held himself in readiness to attack. Issue was\r\njoined in an instant.\r\n\r\nThe leader, with a quick movement of his rein, threw his horse\r\nout in front, and pointed first to the sun, now close down on the\r\nhill tops, and then to the castle, said something which I did not\r\nunderstand. For answer, all four men of our party threw themselves\r\nfrom their horses and dashed towards the cart. I should have felt\r\nterrible fear at seeing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ardor\r\nof battle must have been upon me as well as the rest of them. I\r\nfelt no fear, but only a wild, surging desire to do something.\r\nSeeing the quick movement of our parties, the leader of the gypsies\r\ngave a command. His men instantly formed round the cart in a sort\r\nof undisciplined endeavor, each one shouldering and pushing the\r\nother in his eagerness to carry out the order.\r\n\r\nIn the midst of this I could see that Jonathan on one side of\r\nthe ring of men, and Quincey on the other, were forcing a way to\r\nthe cart. It was evident that they were bent on finishing their\r\ntask before the sun should set. Nothing seemed to stop or even to\r\nhinder them.Neither the levelled weapons nor the flashing knives of\r\nthe gypsies in front, nor the howling of the wolves behind,\r\nappeared to even attract their attention. Jonathan's impetuosity,\r\nand the manifest singleness of his purpose, seemed to overawe those\r\nin front of him. Instinctively they cowered aside and let him pass.\r\nIn an instant he had jumped upon the cart, and with a strength\r\nwhich seemed incredible, raised the great box, and flung it over\r\nthe wheel to the ground. In the meantime, Mr. Morris had had to use\r\nforce to pass through his side of the ring of Szgany. All the time\r\nI had been breathlessly watching Jonathan I had, with the tail of\r\nmy eye, seen him pressing desperately forward, and had seen the\r\nknives of the gypsies flash as he won a way through them, and they\r\ncut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and at first\r\nI thought that he too had come through in safety. But as he sprang\r\nbeside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could see\r\nthat with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and that the\r\nblood was spurting through his fingers. He did not delay\r\nnotwithstanding this, for as Jonathan, with desperate energy,\r\nattacked one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with\r\nhis great Kukri knife, he attacked the other frantically with his\r\nbowie. Under the efforts of both men the lid began to yield. The\r\nnails drew with a screeching sound, and the top of the box was\r\nthrown back.\r\n\r\nBy this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the\r\nWinchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had\r\ngiven in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on\r\nthe mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the\r\nsnow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of\r\nwhich the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was\r\ndeathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with\r\nthe horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.\r\n\r\nAs I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate\r\nin them turned to triumph.\r\n\r\nBut, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan's\r\ngreat knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat.\r\nWhilst at the same moment Mr. Morris's bowie knife plunged into the\r\nheart.\r\n\r\nIt was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in\r\nthe drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and\r\npassed from our sight.\r\n\r\nI shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of\r\nfinal dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I\r\nnever could have imagined might have rested there.\r\n\r\nThe Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and\r\nevery stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the\r\nlight of the setting sun.\r\n\r\nThe gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of the\r\nextraordinary disappearance of the dead man, turned, without a\r\nword, and rode away as if for their lives. Those who were unmounted\r\njumped upon the leiter wagon and shouted to the horsemen not to\r\ndesert them. The wolves, which had withdrawn to a safe distance,\r\nfollowed in their wake, leaving us alone.\r\n\r\nMr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground, leaned on his elbow,\r\nholding his hand pressed to his side. The blood still gushed\r\nthrough his fingers. I flew to him, for the Holy circle did not now\r\nkeep me back, so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and\r\nthe wounded man laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he\r\ntook, with a feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was\r\nunstained.\r\n\r\nHe must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he\r\nsmiled at me and said, \"I am only too happy to have been of\r\nservice! Oh, God!\" he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting\r\nposture and pointing to me. \"It was worth for this to die! Look!\r\nLook!\"\r\n\r\nThe sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red\r\ngleams fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With\r\none impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest\r\n\"Amen\" broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his\r\nfinger.\r\n\r\nThe dying man spoke, \"Now God be thanked that all has not been\r\nin vain! See! The snow is not more stainless than her forehead! The\r\ncurse has passed away!\"\r\n\r\nAnd, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died,\r\na gallant gentleman.\r\n\r\nNOTE\r\n\r\nSeven years ago we all went through the flames. And the\r\nhappiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the\r\npain we endured. It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our\r\nboy's birthday is the same day as that on which Quincey Morris\r\ndied. His mother holds, I know, the secret belief that some of our\r\nbrave friend's spirit has passed into him. His bundle of names\r\nlinks all our little band of men together. But we call him\r\nQuincey.\r\n\r\nIn the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania,\r\nand went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of\r\nvivid and terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe\r\nthat the things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with\r\nour own ears were living truths. Every trace of all that had been\r\nwas blotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a\r\nwaste of desolation.\r\n\r\nWhen we got home we were talking of the old time, which we could\r\nall look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both\r\nhappily married. I took the papers from the safe where they had\r\nbeen ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the\r\nfact, that in all the mass of material of which the record is\r\ncomposed, there is hardly one authentic document. Nothing but a\r\nmass of typewriting, except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward\r\nand myself, and Van Helsing's memorandum. We could hardly ask any\r\none, even did we wish to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a\r\nstory. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his\r\nknee.\r\n\r\n\"We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will\r\nsome day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already\r\nhe knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand\r\nhow some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her\r\nsake.\r\n\r\nJONATHAN HARKER\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"
\n
\n

<\/h2>\n
\n

1 November.\u2014All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed.
\nThe horses seem to know that they are being kindly treated, for
\nthey go willingly their full stage at best speed. We have now had
\nso many changes and find the same thing so constantly that we are
\nencouraged to think that the journey will be an easy one. Dr. Van
\nHelsing is laconic, he tells the farmers that he is hurrying to
\nBistritz, and pays them well to make the exchange of horses. We get
\nhot soup, or coffee, or tea, and off we go. It is a lovely country.
\nFull of beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave,
\nand strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities. They are
\nvery, very superstitious. In the first house where we stopped, when
\nthe woman who served us saw the scar on my forehead, she crossed
\nherself and put out two fingers towards me, to keep off the evil
\neye. I believe they went to the trouble of putting an extra amount
\nof garlic into our food, and I can’t abide garlic. Ever since then
\nI have taken care not to take off my hat or veil, and so have
\nescaped their suspicions. We are travelling fast, and as we have no
\ndriver with us to carry tales, we go ahead of scandal. But I
\ndaresay that fear of the evil eye will follow hard behind us all
\nthe way. The Professor seems tireless. All day he would not take
\nany rest, though he made me sleep for a long spell. At sunset time
\nhe hypnotized me, and he says I answered as usual,”darkness,
\nlapping water and creaking wood.” So our enemy is still on the
\nriver. I am afraid to think of Jonathan, but somehow I have now no
\nfear for him, or for myself. I write this whilst we wait in a
\nfarmhouse for the horses to be ready. Dr. Van Helsing is sleeping.
\nPoor dear, he looks very tired and old and grey, but his mouth is
\nset as firmly as a conqueror’s. Even in his sleep he is intense
\nwith resolution. When we have well started I must make him rest
\nwhilst I drive. I shall tell him that we have days before us, and
\nhe must not break down when most of all his strength will be
\nneeded\u00a0\u2026 All is ready. We are off shortly.<\/p>\n

2 November, morning.\u2014I was successful, and we took turns driving
\nall night. Now the day is on us, bright though cold. There is a
\nstrange heaviness in the air. I say heaviness for want of a better
\nword. I mean that it oppresses us both. It is very cold, and only
\nour warm furs keep us comfortable. At dawn Van Helsing hypnotized
\nme. He says I answered “darkness, creaking wood and roaring water,”
\nso the river is changing as they ascend. I do hope that my darling
\nwill not run any chance of danger, more than need be, but we are in
\nGod’s hands.<\/p>\n

2 November, night.\u2014All day long driving. The country gets wilder
\nas we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti
\nseemed so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather
\nround us and tower in front. We both seem in good spirits. I think
\nwe make an effort each to cheer the other, in the doing so we cheer
\nourselves. Dr. Van Helsing says that by morning we shall reach the
\nBorgo Pass. The houses are very few here now, and the Professor
\nsays that the last horse we got will have to go on with us, as we
\nmay not be able to change. He got two in addition to the two we
\nchanged, so that now we have a rude four-in-hand. The dear horses
\nare patient and good, and they give us no trouble. We are not
\nworried with other travellers, and so even I can drive. We shall
\nget to the Pass in daylight. We do not want to arrive before. So we
\ntake it easy, and have each a long rest in turn. Oh, what will
\ntomorrow bring to us? We go to seek the place where my poor darling
\nsuffered so much. God grant that we may be guided aright, and that
\nHe will deign to watch over my husband and those dear to us both,
\nand who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I am not worthy in His
\nsight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and shall be until He may
\ndeign to let me stand forth in His sight as one of those who have
\nnot incurred His wrath.<\/p>\n

MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING<\/p>\n

4 November.\u2014This to my old and true friend John Seward, M. D.,
\nof Purefleet, London, in case I may not see him. It may explain. It
\nis morning, and I write by a fire which all the night I have kept
\nalive, Madam Mina aiding me. It is cold, cold. So cold that the
\ngrey heavy sky is full of snow, which when it falls will settle for
\nall winter as the ground is hardening to receive it. It seems to
\nhave affected Madam Mina. She has been so heavy of head all day
\nthat she was not like herself. She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps!
\nShe who is usual so alert, have done literally nothing all the day.
\nShe even have lost her appetite. She make no entry into her little
\ndiary, she who write so faithful at every pause. Something whisper
\nto me that all is not well. However, tonight she is more vif. Her
\nlong sleep all day have refresh and restore her, for now she is all
\nsweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try to hypnotize her, but
\nalas! with no effect. The power has grown less and less with each
\nday, and tonight it fail me altogether. Well, God’s will be done,
\nwhatever it may be, and whithersoever it may lead!<\/p>\n

Now to the historical, for as Madam Mina write not in her
\nstenography, I must, in my cumbrous old fashion, that so each day
\nof us may not go unrecorded.<\/p>\n

We got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday morning.
\nWhen I saw the signs of the dawn I got ready for the hypnotism. We
\nstopped our carriage, and got down so that there might be no
\ndisturbance. I made a couch with furs, and Madam Mina, lying down,
\nyield herself as usual, but more slow and more short time than
\never, to the hypnotic sleep. As before, came the answer, “darkness
\nand the swirling of water.” Then she woke, bright and radiant and
\nwe go on our way and soon reach the Pass. At this time and place,
\nshe become all on fire with zeal. Some new guiding power be in her
\nmanifested, for she point to a road and say, “This is the way.”<\/p>\n

“How know you it?” I ask.<\/p>\n

“Of course I know it,’ she answer, and with a pause, add, “Have
\nnot my Jonathan travelled it and wrote of his travel?”<\/p>\n

At first I think somewhat strange, but soon I see that there be
\nonly one such byroad. It is used but little, and very different
\nfrom the coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz, which is more
\nwide and hard, and more of use.<\/p>\n

So we came down this road. When we meet other ways, not always
\nwere we sure that they were roads at all, for they be neglect and
\nlight snow have fallen, the horses know and they only. I give rein
\nto them, and they go on so patient. By and by we find all the
\nthings which Jonathan have note in that wonderful diary of him.
\nThen we go on for long, long hours and hours. At the first, I tell
\nMadam Mina to sleep. She try, and she succeed. She sleep all the
\ntime, till at the last, I feel myself to suspicious grow, and
\nattempt to wake her. But she sleep on, and I may not wake her
\nthough I try. I do not wish to try too hard lest I harm her. For I
\nknow that she have suffer much, and sleep at times be all-in-all to
\nher. I think I drowse myself, for all of sudden I feel guilt, as
\nthough I have done something. I find myself bolt up, with the reins
\nin my hand, and the good horses go along jog, jog, just as ever. I
\nlook down and find Madam Mina still asleep. It is now not far off
\nsunset time, and over the snow the light of the sun flow in big
\nyellow flood, so that we throw great long shadow on where the
\nmountain rise so steep. For we are going up, and up, and all is oh,
\nso wild and rocky, as though it were the end of the world.<\/p>\n

Then I arouse Madam Mina. This time she wake with not much
\ntrouble, and then I try to put her to hypnotic sleep. But she sleep
\nnot, being as though I were not. Still I try and try, till all at
\nonce I find her and myself in dark, so I look round, and find that
\nthe sun have gone down. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn and look at
\nher. She is now quite awake, and look so well as I never saw her
\nsince that night at Carfax when we first enter the Count’s house. I
\nam amaze, and not at ease then. But she is so bright and tender and
\nthoughtful for me that I forget all fear. I light a fire, for we
\nhave brought supply of wood with us, and she prepare food while I
\nundo the horses and set them, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then
\nwhen I return to the fire she have my supper ready. I go to help
\nher, but she smile, and tell me that she have eat already. That she
\nwas so hungry that she would not wait. I like it not, and I have
\ngrave doubts. But I fear to affright her, and so I am silent of it.
\nShe help me and I eat alone, and then we wrap in fur and lie beside
\nthe fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch. But presently I
\nforget all of watching. And when I sudden remember that I watch, I
\nfind her lying quiet, but awake, and looking at me with so bright
\neyes. Once, twice more the same occur, and I get much sleep till
\nbefore morning. When I wake I try to hypnotize her, but alas!
\nThough she shut her eyes obedient, she may not sleep. The sun rise
\nup, and up, and up, and then sleep come to her too late, but so
\nheavy that she will not wake. I have to lift her up, and place her
\nsleeping in the carriage when I have harnessed the horses and made
\nall ready. Madam still sleep, and she look in her sleep more
\nhealthy and more redder than before. And I like it not. And I am
\nafraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things, even to think
\nbut I must go on my way. The stake we play for is life and death,
\nor more than these, and we must not flinch.<\/p>\n

5 November, morning.\u2014Let me be accurate in everything, for
\nthough you and I have seen some strange things together, you may at
\nthe first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. That the many horrors
\nand the so long strain on nerves has at the last turn my brain.<\/p>\n

All yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the mountains,
\nand moving into a more and more wild and desert land. There are
\ngreat, frowning precipices and much falling water, and Nature seem
\nto have held sometime her carnival. Madam Mina still sleep and
\nsleep. And though I did have hunger and appeased it, I could not
\nwaken her, even for food. I began to fear that the fatal spell of
\nthe place was upon her, tainted as she is with that Vampire
\nbaptism. “Well,” said I to myself, “if it be that she sleep all the
\nday, it shall also be that I do not sleep at night.” As we travel
\non the rough road, for a road of an ancient and imperfect kind
\nthere was, I held down my head and slept.<\/p>\n

Again I waked with a sense of guilt and of time passed, and
\nfound Madam Mina still sleeping, and the sun low down. But all was
\nindeed changed. The frowning mountains seemed further away, and we
\nwere near the top of a steep rising hill, on summit of which was
\nsuch a castle as Jonathan tell of in his diary. At once I exulted
\nand feared. For now, for good or ill, the end was near.<\/p>\n

I woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hypnotize her, but alas!
\nunavailing till too late. Then, ere the great dark came upon us,
\nfor even after down sun the heavens reflected the gone sun on the
\nsnow, and all was for a time in a great twilight. I took out the
\nhorses and fed them in what shelter I could. Then I make a fire,
\nand near it I make Madam Mina, now awake and more charming than
\never, sit comfortable amid her rugs. I got ready food, but she
\nwould not eat, simply saying that she had not hunger. I did not
\npress her, knowing her unavailingness. But I myself eat, for I must
\nneeds now be strong for all. Then, with the fear on me of what
\nmight be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam
\nMina sat. And over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke
\nit fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time,
\nso still as one dead. And she grew whiter and even whiter till the
\nsnow was not more pale, and no word she said. But when I drew near,
\nshe clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from
\nhead to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel.<\/p>\n

I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet, “Will
\nyou not come over to the fire?” for I wished to make a test of what
\nshe could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she
\nstopped, and stood as one stricken.<\/p>\n

“Why not go on?” I asked. She shook her head, and coming back,
\nsat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of
\none waked from sleep, she said simply,”I cannot!” and remained
\nsilent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of
\nthose that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her
\nbody, yet her soul was safe!<\/p>\n

Presently the horses began to scream, and tore at their tethers
\ntill I came to them and quieted them. When they did feel my hands
\non them, they whinnied low as in joy,and licked at my hands and
\nwere quiet for a time. Many times through the night did I come to
\nthem, till it arrive to the cold hour when all nature is at lowest,
\nand every time my coming was with quiet of them. In the cold hour
\nthe fire began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish
\nit, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a chill
\nmist. Even in the dark there was a light of some kind, as there
\never is over snow, and it seemed as though the snow flurries and
\nthe wreaths of mist took shape as of women with trailing garments.
\nAll was in dead, grim silence only that the horses whinnied and
\ncowered, as if in terror of the worst. I began to fear, horrible
\nfears. But then came to me the sense of safety in that ring wherein
\nI stood. I began too, to think that my imaginings were of the
\nnight, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and
\nall the terrible anxiety. It was as though my memories of all
\nJonathan’s horrid experience were befooling me. For the snow flakes
\nand the mist began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as
\nthough a shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him.
\nAnd then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror
\nas men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so
\nthat they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when
\nthese weird figures drew near and circled round. I looked at her,
\nbut she sat calm, and smiled at me. When I would have stepped to
\nthe fire to replenish it, she caught me and held me back, and
\nwhispered, like a voice that one hears in a dream, so low it
\nwas.<\/p>\n

“No! No! Do not go without. Here you are safe!”<\/p>\n

I turned to her, and looking in her eyes said, “But you? It is
\nfor you that I fear!”<\/p>\n

Whereat she laughed, a laugh low and unreal, and said, “Fear for
\nme! Why fear for me? None safer in all the world from them than I
\nam,”and as I wondered at the meaning of her words, a puff of wind
\nmade the flame leap up, and I see the red scar on her forehead.
\nThen, alas! I knew. Did I not, I would soon have learned, for the
\nwheeling figures of mist and snow came closer, but keeping ever
\nwithout the Holy circle. Then they began to materialize till, if
\nGod have not taken away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes.
\nThere were before me in actual flesh the same three women that
\nJonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat. I
\nknew the swaying round forms, the bright hard eyes, the white
\nteeth, the ruddy color, the voluptuous lips. They smiled ever at
\npoor dear Madam Mina. And as their laugh came through the silence
\nof the night, they twined their arms and pointed to her, and said
\nin those so sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the
\nintolerable sweetness of the water glasses, “Come, sister. Come to
\nus. Come!”<\/p>\n

In fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, and my heart with
\ngladness leapt like flame. For oh! the terror in her sweet eyes,
\nthe repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart that was all of
\nhope. God be thanked she was not, yet of them. I seized some of the
\nfirewood which was by me, and holding out some of the Wafer,
\nadvanced on them towards the fire. They drew back before me, and
\nlaughed their low horrid laugh. I fed the fire, and feared them
\nnot. For I knew that we were safe within the ring, which she could
\nnot leave no more than they could enter. The horses had ceased to
\nmoan, and lay still on the ground. The snow fell on them softly,
\nand they grew whiter. I knew that there was for the poor beasts no
\nmore of terror.<\/p>\n

And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall
\nthrough the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe
\nand terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon
\nlife was to me again. At the first coming of the dawn the horrid
\nfigures melted in the whirling mist and snow. The wreaths of
\ntransparent gloom moved away towards the castle, and were lost.<\/p>\n

Instinctively, with the dawn coming, I turned to Madam Mina,
\nintending to hypnotize her. But she lay in a deep and sudden sleep,
\nfrom which I could not wake her. I tried to hypnotize through her
\nsleep, but she made no response, none at all, and the day broke. I
\nfear yet to stir. I have made my fire and have seen the horses,
\nthey are all dead. Today I have much to do here, and I keep waiting
\ntill the sun is up high. For there may be places where I must go,
\nwhere that sunlight, though snow and mist obscure it, will be to me
\na safety.<\/p>\n

I will strengthen me with breakfast, and then I will do my
\nterrible work. Madam Mina still sleeps, and God be thanked! She is
\ncalm in her sleep\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL<\/p>\n

4 November, evening.\u2014The accident to the launch has been a
\nterrible thing for us. Only for it we should have overtaken the
\nboat long ago, and by now my dear Mina would have been free. I fear
\nto think of her, off on the wolds near that horrid place. We have
\ngot horses, and we follow on the track. I note this whilst
\nGodalming is getting ready. We have our arms. The Szgany must look
\nout if they mean to fight. Oh, if only Morris and Seward were with
\nus. We must only hope! If I write no more Goodby Mina! God bless
\nand keep you.<\/p>\n

DR. SEWARD’S DIARY<\/p>\n

5 November.\u2014With the dawn we saw the body of Szgany before us
\ndashing away from the river with their leiter wagon. They
\nsurrounded it in a cluster, and hurried along as though beset. The
\nsnow is falling lightly and there is a strange excitement in the
\nair. It may be our own feelings, but the depression is strange. Far
\noff I hear the howling of wolves. The snow brings them down from
\nthe mountains, and there are dangers to all of us, and from all
\nsides. The horses are nearly ready, and we are soon off. We ride to
\ndeath of some one. God alone knows who, or where, or what, or when,
\nor how it may be\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

DR. VAN HELSING’S MEMORANDUM<\/p>\n

5 November, afternoon.\u2014I am at least sane. Thank God for that
\nmercy at all events, though the proving it has been dreadful. When
\nI left Madam Mina sleeping within the Holy circle, I took my way to
\nthe castle. The blacksmith hammer which I took in the carriage from
\nVeresti was useful, though the doors were all open I broke them off
\nthe rusty hinges, lest some ill intent or ill chance should close
\nthem, so that being entered I might not get out. Jonathan’s bitter
\nexperience served me here. By memory of his diary I found my way to
\nthe old chapel, for I knew that here my work lay. The air was
\noppressive. It seemed as if there was some sulphurous fume, which
\nat times made me dizzy. Either there was a roaring in my ears or I
\nheard afar off the howl of wolves. Then I bethought me of my dear
\nMadam Mina, and I was in terrible plight. The dilemma had me
\nbetween his horns.<\/p>\n

Her, I had not dare to take into this place, but left safe from
\nthe Vampire in that Holy circle. And yet even there would be the
\nwolf! I resolve me that my work lay here, and that as to the wolves
\nwe must submit, if it were God’s will. At any rate it was only
\ndeath and freedom beyond. So did I choose for her. Had it but been
\nfor myself the choice had been easy, the maw of the wolf were
\nbetter to rest in than the grave of the Vampire! So I make my
\nchoice to go on with my work.<\/p>\n

I knew that there were at least three graves to find, graves
\nthat are inhabit. So I search, and search, and I find one of them.
\nShe lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and voluptuous beauty
\nthat I shudder as though I have come to do murder. Ah, I doubt not
\nthat in the old time, when such things were, many a man who set
\nforth to do such a task as mine, found at the last his heart fail
\nhim, and then his nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till
\nthe mere beauty and the fascination of the wanton Undead have
\nhypnotize him. And he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the
\nVampire sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman
\nopen and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss, and
\nthe man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the Vampire
\nfold. One more to swell the grim and grisly ranks of the
\nUndead!\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

There is some fascination, surely, when I am moved by the mere
\npresence of such an one, even lying as she lay in a tomb fretted
\nwith age and heavy with the dust of centuries, though there be that
\nhorrid odor such as the lairs of the Count have had. Yes, I was
\nmoved. I, Van Helsing, with all my purpose and with my motive for
\nhate. I was moved to a yearning for delay which seemed to paralyze
\nmy faculties and to clog my very soul. It may have been that the
\nneed of natural sleep, and the strange oppression of the air were
\nbeginning to overcome me. Certain it was that I was lapsing into
\nsleep, the open eyed sleep of one who yields to a sweet
\nfascination, when there came through the snow stilled air a long,
\nlow wail, so full of woe and pity that it woke me like the sound of
\na clarion. For it was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that I
\nheard.<\/p>\n

Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by
\nwrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark
\none. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, lest
\nonce more I should begin to be enthrall. But I go on searching
\nuntil, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if made to one
\nmuch beloved that other fair sister which, like Jonathan I had seen
\nto gather herself out of the atoms of the mist. She was so fair to
\nlook on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous, that
\nthe very instinct of man in me, which calls some of my sex to love
\nand to protect one of hers, made my head whirl with new emotion.
\nBut God be thanked, that soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not
\ndied out of my ears. And, before the spell could be wrought further
\nupon me, I had nerved myself to my wild work. By this tim e I had
\nsearched all the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tell. And
\nas there had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in
\nthe night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead
\nexistent. There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest.
\nHuge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word.<\/p>\n

DRACULA<\/p>\n

This then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom so
\nmany more were due. Its emptiness spoke eloquent to make certain
\nwhat I knew. Before I began to restore these women to their dead
\nselves through my awful work, I laid in Dracula’s tomb some of the
\nWafer, and so banished him from it, Undead, for ever.<\/p>\n

Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had it been but
\none, it had been easy, comparative. But three! To begin twice more
\nafter I had been through a deed of horror. For it was terrible with
\nthe sweet Miss Lucy, what would it not be with these strange ones
\nwho had survived through centuries, and who had been strenghtened
\nby the passing of the years. Who would, if they could, have fought
\nfor their foul lives\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not been
\nnerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living over whom hung
\nsuch a pall of fear, I could not have gone on. I tremble and
\ntremble even yet, though till all was over, God be thanked, my
\nnerve did stand. Had I not seen the repose in the first place, and
\nthe gladness that stole over it just ere the final dissolution
\ncame, as realization that the soul had been won, I could not have
\ngone further with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid
\nscreeching as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form,
\nand lips of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my
\nwork undone. But it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them
\nnow and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of
\ndeath for a short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly had
\nmy knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to
\nmelt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death
\nthat should have come centuries agone had at last assert himself
\nand say at once and loud,”I am here!”<\/p>\n

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never
\nmore can the Count enter there Undead.<\/p>\n

When I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she woke
\nfrom her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that I had endured
\ntoo much.<\/p>\n

“Come!” she said, “come away from this awful place! Let us go to
\nmeet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us.” She was looking
\nthin and pale and weak. But her eyes were pure and glowed with
\nfervor. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind
\nwas full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep.<\/p>\n

And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go eastward
\nto meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell me that she know
\nare coming to meet us.<\/p>\n

MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL<\/p>\n

6 November.\u2014It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and
\nI took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was coming.
\nWe did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for w e
\nhad to take heavy rugs and wraps with us. We dared not face the
\npossibility of being left without warmth in the cold and the snow.
\nWe had to take some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect
\ndesolation, and so far as we could see through the snowfall, there
\nwas not even the sign of habitation. When we had gone about a mile,
\nI was tired with the heavy walking and sat down to rest. Then we
\nlooked back and saw where the clear line of Dracula’s castle cut
\nthe sky. For we were so deep under the hill whereon it was set that
\nthe angle of perspective of the Carpathian mountains was far below
\nit. We saw it in all its grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the
\nsummit of a sheer precipice, and with seemingly a great gap between
\nit and the steep of the adjacent mountain on any side. There was
\nsomething wild and uncanny about the place. We could hear the
\ndistant howling of wolves. They were far off, but the sound, even
\nthough coming muffled through the deadening snowfall, was full of
\nterror. I knew from the way Dr. Van Helsing was searching about
\nthat he was trying to seek some strategic point, where we would be
\nless exposed in case of attack. The rough roadway still led
\ndownwards. We could trace it through the drifted snow.<\/p>\n

In a little while the Professor signalled to me, so I got up and
\njoined him. He had found a wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow
\nin a rock, with an entrance like a doorway between two boulders. He
\ntook me by the hand and drew me in.<\/p>\n

“See!” he said,”here you will be in shelter. And if the wolves
\ndo come I can meet them one by one.”<\/p>\n

He brought in our furs, and made a snug nest for me, and got out
\nsome provisions and forced them upon me. But I could not eat, to
\neven try to do so was repulsive to me, and much as I would have
\nliked to please him, I could not bring myself to the attempt. He
\nlooked very sad, but did not reproach me. Taking his field glasses
\nfrom the case, he stood on the top of the rock, and began to search
\nthe horizon.<\/p>\n

Suddenly he called out, “Look! Madam Mina, look!Look!”<\/p>\n

I sprang up and stood beside him on the rock. He handed me his
\nglasses and pointed. The snow was now falling more heavily, and
\nswirled about fiercely, for a high wind was beginning to blow.
\nHowever, there were times when there were pauses between the snow
\nflurries and I could see a long way round. From the height where we
\nwere it was possible to see a great distance. And far off, beyond
\nthe white waste of snow, I could see the river lying like a black
\nribbon in kinks and curls as it wound its way. Straight in front of
\nus and not far off, in fact so near that I wondered we had not
\nnoticed before, came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the
\nmidst of them was a cart, a long leiter wagon which swept from side
\nto side, like a dog’s tail wagging, with each stern inequality of
\nthe road. Outlined against the snow as they were, I could see from
\nthe men’s clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some
\nkind.<\/p>\n

On the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw
\nit, for I felt that the end was coming. The evening was now drawing
\nclose, and well I knew that at sunset the Thing, which was till
\nthen imprisoned there, would take new freedom and could in any of
\nmany forms elude pursuit. In fear I turned to the Professor. To my
\nconsternation, however, he was not there. An instant later, I saw
\nhim below me. Round the rock he had drawn a circle, such as we had
\nfound shelter in last night.<\/p>\n

When he had completed it he stood beside me again saying, “At
\nleast you shall be safe here from him!” He took the glasses from
\nme, and at the next lull of the snow swept the whole space below
\nus. “See,”he said,”they come quickly. They are flogging the horses,
\nand galloping as hard as they can.”<\/p>\n

He paused and went on in a hollow voice, “They are racing for
\nthe sunset. We may be too late. God’s will be done!” Down came
\nanother blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was
\nblotted out. It soon passed, however, and once more his glasses
\nwere fixed on the plain.<\/p>\n

Then came a sudden cry, “Look! Look! Look! See, two horsemen
\nfollow fast, coming up from the south. It must be Quincey and John.
\nTake the glass. Look before the snow blots it all out!” I took it
\nand looked. The two men might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. I knew
\nat all events that neither of them was Jonathan. At the same time I
\nknew that Jonathan was not far off. Looking around I saw on the
\nnorth side of the coming party two other men, riding at breakneck
\nspeed. One of them I knew was Jonathan, and the other I took, of
\ncourse, to be Lord Godalming. They too, were pursuing the party
\nwith the cart. When I told the Professor he shouted in glee like a
\nschoolboy, and after looking intently till a snow fall made sight
\nimpossible, he laid his Winchester rifle ready for use against the
\nboulder at the opening of our shelter.<\/p>\n

“They are all converging,” he said.”When the time comes we shall
\nhave gypsies on all sides.” I got out my revolver ready to hand,
\nfor whilst we were speaking the howling of wolves came louder and
\ncloser. When the snow storm abated a moment we looked again. It was
\nstrange to see the snow falling in such heavy flakes close to us,
\nand beyond, the sun shining more and more brightly as it sank down
\ntowards the far mountain tops. Sweeping the glass all around us I
\ncould see here and there dots moving singly and in twos and threes
\nand larger numbers. The wolves were gathering for their prey.<\/p>\n

Every instant seemed an age whilst we waited. The wind came now
\nin fierce bursts, and the snow was driven with fury as it swept
\nupon us in circling eddies. At times we could not see an arm’s
\nlength before us. But at others, as the hollow sounding wind swept
\nby us, it seemed to clear the air space around us so that we could
\nsee afar off. We had of late been so accustomed to watch for
\nsunrise and sunset, that we knew with fair accuracy when it would
\nbe. And we knew that before long the sun would set. It was hard to
\nbelieve that by our watches it was less than an hour that we waited
\nin that rocky shelter before the various bodies began to converge
\nclose upon us. The wind came now with fiercer and more bitter
\nsweeps, and more steadily from the north. It seemingly had driven
\nthe snow clouds from us, for with only occasional bursts, the snow
\nfell. We could distinguish clearly the individuals of each party,
\nthe pursued and the pursuers. Strangely enough those pursued did
\nnot seem to realize, or at least to care, that they were pursued.
\nThey seemed, however, to hasten with redoubled speed as the sun
\ndropped lower and lower on the mountain tops.<\/p>\n

Closer and closer they drew. The Professor and I crouched down
\nbehind our rock, and held our weapons ready. I could see that he
\nwas determined that they should not pass. One and all were quite
\nunaware of our presence.<\/p>\n

All at once two voices shouted out to, “Halt!” One was my
\nJonathan’s, raised in a high key of passion. The other Mr. Morris’
\nstrong resolute tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have
\nknown the language, but there was no mistaking the tone, in
\nwhatever tongue the words were spoken. Instinctively they reined
\nin, and at the instant Lord Godalming and Jonathan dashed up at one
\nside and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris on the other. The leader of the
\ngypsies, a splendid looking fellow who sat his horse like a
\ncentaur, waved them back, and in a fierce voice gave to his
\ncompanions some word to proceed. They lashed the horses which
\nsprang forward. But the four men raised their Winchester rifles,
\nand in an unmistakable way commanded them to stop. At the same
\nmoment Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and pointed our
\nweapons at them. Seeing that they were surrounded the men tightened
\ntheir reins and drew up. The leader turned to them and gave a word
\nat which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he carried,
\nknife or pistol,and held himself in readiness to attack. Issue was
\njoined in an instant.<\/p>\n

The leader, with a quick movement of his rein, threw his horse
\nout in front, and pointed first to the sun, now close down on the
\nhill tops, and then to the castle, said something which I did not
\nunderstand. For answer, all four men of our party threw themselves
\nfrom their horses and dashed towards the cart. I should have felt
\nterrible fear at seeing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ardor
\nof battle must have been upon me as well as the rest of them. I
\nfelt no fear, but only a wild, surging desire to do something.
\nSeeing the quick movement of our parties, the leader of the gypsies
\ngave a command. His men instantly formed round the cart in a sort
\nof undisciplined endeavor, each one shouldering and pushing the
\nother in his eagerness to carry out the order.<\/p>\n

In the midst of this I could see that Jonathan on one side of
\nthe ring of men, and Quincey on the other, were forcing a way to
\nthe cart. It was evident that they were bent on finishing their
\ntask before the sun should set. Nothing seemed to stop or even to
\nhinder them.Neither the levelled weapons nor the flashing knives of
\nthe gypsies in front, nor the howling of the wolves behind,
\nappeared to even attract their attention. Jonathan’s impetuosity,
\nand the manifest singleness of his purpose, seemed to overawe those
\nin front of him. Instinctively they cowered aside and let him pass.
\nIn an instant he had jumped upon the cart, and with a strength
\nwhich seemed incredible, raised the great box, and flung it over
\nthe wheel to the ground. In the meantime, Mr. Morris had had to use
\nforce to pass through his side of the ring of Szgany. All the time
\nI had been breathlessly watching Jonathan I had, with the tail of
\nmy eye, seen him pressing desperately forward, and had seen the
\nknives of the gypsies flash as he won a way through them, and they
\ncut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and at first
\nI thought that he too had come through in safety. But as he sprang
\nbeside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could see
\nthat with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and that the
\nblood was spurting through his fingers. He did not delay
\nnotwithstanding this, for as Jonathan, with desperate energy,
\nattacked one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with
\nhis great Kukri knife, he attacked the other frantically with his
\nbowie. Under the efforts of both men the lid began to yield. The
\nnails drew with a screeching sound, and the top of the box was
\nthrown back.<\/p>\n

By this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the
\nWinchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had
\ngiven in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on
\nthe mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the
\nsnow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of
\nwhich the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was
\ndeathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with
\nthe horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.<\/p>\n

As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate
\nin them turned to triumph.<\/p>\n

But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s
\ngreat knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat.
\nWhilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the
\nheart.<\/p>\n

It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in
\nthe drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and
\npassed from our sight.<\/p>\n

I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of
\nfinal dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I
\nnever could have imagined might have rested there.<\/p>\n

The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and
\nevery stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the
\nlight of the setting sun.<\/p>\n

The gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of the
\nextraordinary disappearance of the dead man, turned, without a
\nword, and rode away as if for their lives. Those who were unmounted
\njumped upon the leiter wagon and shouted to the horsemen not to
\ndesert them. The wolves, which had withdrawn to a safe distance,
\nfollowed in their wake, leaving us alone.<\/p>\n

Mr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground, leaned on his elbow,
\nholding his hand pressed to his side. The blood still gushed
\nthrough his fingers. I flew to him, for the Holy circle did not now
\nkeep me back, so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and
\nthe wounded man laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he
\ntook, with a feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was
\nunstained.<\/p>\n

He must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he
\nsmiled at me and said, “I am only too happy to have been of
\nservice! Oh, God!” he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting
\nposture and pointing to me. “It was worth for this to die! Look!
\nLook!”<\/p>\n

The sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red
\ngleams fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With
\none impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest
\n“Amen” broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his
\nfinger.<\/p>\n

The dying man spoke, “Now God be thanked that all has not been
\nin vain! See! The snow is not more stainless than her forehead! The
\ncurse has passed away!”<\/p>\n

And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died,
\na gallant gentleman.<\/p>\n

NOTE<\/p>\n

Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the
\nhappiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the
\npain we endured. It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our
\nboy’s birthday is the same day as that on which Quincey Morris
\ndied. His mother holds, I know, the secret belief that some of our
\nbrave friend’s spirit has passed into him. His bundle of names
\nlinks all our little band of men together. But we call him
\nQuincey.<\/p>\n

In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania,
\nand went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of
\nvivid and terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe
\nthat the things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with
\nour own ears were living truths. Every trace of all that had been
\nwas blotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a
\nwaste of desolation.<\/p>\n

When we got home we were talking of the old time, which we could
\nall look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both
\nhappily married. I took the papers from the safe where they had
\nbeen ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the
\nfact, that in all the mass of material of which the record is
\ncomposed, there is hardly one authentic document. Nothing but a
\nmass of typewriting, except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward
\nand myself, and Van Helsing’s memorandum. We could hardly ask any
\none, even did we wish to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a
\nstory. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his
\nknee.<\/p>\n

“We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will
\nsome day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already
\nhe knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand
\nhow some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her
\nsake.<\/p>\n

JONATHAN HARKER<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"menu_order":27,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-51","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/51","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":2,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/51\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":88,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/51\/revisions\/88"}],"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\/51\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=51"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=51"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=51"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/dracula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=51"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}