CHAPTER XVI It was just a quarter before twelve o'clock when we got into the churchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional blames of moonlight between the dense of the heavy clouds that scutted across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with Van Helsing slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come close to the tomb, I looked well at Arthur, for I feared the proximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset him. But he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of the proceeding was, in some way, a counteractant to his grief. The professor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for various reasons, saw the difficulty by entering first himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He then let a dark lantern and pointed to a coffin. Arthur stepped forward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, You were here with me yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin? It was. The professor turned to the rest, saying, You're here, and yet there is no one who does not believe with me. He took his screwdriver, and again took off the lid of the coffin. Arthur looked on, very pale, but silent. When the lid was removed, he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there was a laden coffin, or at any rate had not thought of it. When he saw the rent in the lid, the blood rushed to his face for an instant, but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastly whiteness. He was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the laden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled. The coffin was empty. For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken by Quincy Morris. Professor, I answered for you.  I wouldn't ask such a thing ordinarily. I wouldn't so dishonor you as to imply a doubt. But this is a mystery that goes beyond any honor or dishonor. Is this your doing? I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not removed or touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago my friend soared, and I came here with good purpose, believe me. I opened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it as it is now, empty. We then waited and saw something white come through the trees. The next day we came here in daytime, and she lay there. Did she not, friend John? Yes. That night we were just in time. One more so small child was missing, and we found it, thank God, unharmed amongst the graves. Yesterday I came here before sundown. For at sundown the undead can move. I waited here all night till the sun rose, but I saw nothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over the clamps of those doors garlic which the undead cannot bear, and other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus, so tonight, before the sundown, I took away my garlic and other things, and so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is much that is strange. Wait you with me outside, unseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be.  Now to the outside he opened the door, and we filed out. He coming last, and locking the door behind him. Oh, but it seemed fresh and pure in the night air, after the terror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by, and the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scutting clouds crossing and passing, like the gladness and sorrow of a man's life. How sweet it was to breathe the fresh air that had no taint of death in decay. How humanizing to see the red lighting of the sky beyond the hill, and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks the life of a great city. Each in his own way was solemn and overcome. Arthur was silent and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside doubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusions. Quincy Morris was phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has at stake. Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco, and began to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definite way. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white napkin. Next he took out a double handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. This he then took and rolling it into thin strips began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur and Quincy drew near also, as they too were curious. He answered, I am closing the tomb so that the undead may not enter. And is that stuff you have there going to do it? It is. What is that which you are using? This time the question was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answered, The host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an indulgence. It was an answer that appalled the most skeptical of us, and we felt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as the professors, a purpose which could thus use the to him most sacred things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful silence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but hidden from the sight of anyone approaching. I pitied the others especially, Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to this watching horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did Cyprus or you or Juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bow creak so mysteriously, and never did the far away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night. There was a long spell of silence, big aching void. And then from the professor Akeen tsstt. He pointed, and far down the avenue of use we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed, in startling prominence, a dark-haired woman, dressed in the sermons of the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child.  We were starting forward, but the professor's warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then, as we looked, the white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur as we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless, cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness. Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all advanced, too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb. Van Helsing raced his lantern, and drew the slide. By the concentrated light that fell on Lucy's face, we could see that the lips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her own death-robe. We shuddered with horror. I could see, by the crimineless light, that even Van Helsing's iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to me, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen. When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape, saw us. She drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares.  At the moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight.  Oh, God how it made me shudder to see it! With a careless motion she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the child that, up to now, she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone.  There was a cold bloodedness in the act which rung a groan from Arthur. When she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile, he fell back and hid his face in his hands. Still she advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace said, Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come. There was something diabolically sweet in her tones, something of the tinkling of glass when struck, which rang through the brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell. Moving his hands from his face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them when Ben Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden crucifix. She recoiled from it, and with a sudden distorted face, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb. When, within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Ben Helsing's nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful color became livid. The eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hellfire. The brows were wrinkled, as though the folds of flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masts of the Greeks and Japanese, if ever a face meant death. If looks could kill, we saw it at that moment. And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry. Ben Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, Answer me, my friend, am I to proceed in my work? Do, as you will, friend, do as you will. There can be no horror like this ever anymore. And he groaned in spirit. Quincy and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his arms. We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Ben Helsing held it down. Coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the chinks some of the sacred emblem, which he had placed there. We all looked with horrified amazement, as we saw when he stood back. The woman, with a corporeal body as real as that moment as our own, passed through the interstice where scarce a knife blade could have gone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the professor calmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door. When this was done, he lifted the child and said, Come now, my friends, we can do no more till tomorrow. There is a funeral at noon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends of the dead shall be gone by two, and when the sexton locks the gate, we shall remain. Then there is more to do. But not like this of tonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, and by tomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the police will find him, as on the other night, and then to home. Coming close to Arthur, he said, My friend Arthur, you have had a sore trial, but after, when you look back, you will see how it was necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this time tomorrow you will please God, have passed them, and have drunk of the sweet waters. We do not mourn over much. Till then I shall not ask you to forgive me. Arthur and Quincy came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other on the way. We had left behind the child in safety, and were tired. So we all slept with more or less reality of sleep. 29 September night. A little before twelve o'clock, we three, Arthur, Quincy, Morris, and myself, called for the professor. It was odd to notice that, by common consent, we had all put on black clothes. Of course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning. But the rest of us wore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by half past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official observation, so that when the grave diggers had completed their task, and the sexton, under the belief that everyone had gone, had locked the gate, we had the place all to ourselves.  It was manifestly of fair weight. When we were alone, and had heard the last of the footsteps die out of the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention, followed the professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we entered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit, and also two wax candles, which when lighted, he stuck by, melting their own ends on the other coffins, so that they might give light sufficient to work by. When he again lifted the lid off Lucy's coffin, we all looked, Arthur, trembling like an aspen, and saw that the corpse lay there, and all its death beauty. But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but loathing for the foul thing which had taken Lucy's shape without her soul. I could even see Arthur's face grow hard, as he looked. Presently, he said to Ben Helsing, Is this really Lucy's body, or only a demon in her shape? It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you shall see her as she was, and is. She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy, as she laid there, the pointed teeth, the bloodstained, voluptuous mouth, which made one shudder to see, the whole carnal and unspirited appearance, something like a devilish mockery of Lucy's sweet purity. Ben Helsing, with his usual methodicalness, began taking the various contents from his bag, and placing them ready for use. First he took out a soldering iron, and some plumbing solder, and then small oil lamp, which gave out, when lit in a corner of the tomb, gas, which burned at a fierce heat with a blue flame. Then his operating knives, which he placed a hand, and last a round wooden stake, some two and a half or three inches thick, and about three feet long. One end of it was hardened by charring in the fire, and was sharpened to a fine point. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such as in households is used in the coal cellar for breaking the lumps. To me, a doctor's preparations for work of any kind are stimulating and bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and Quincy was to cause them a sort of consternation. They both, however, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet. When all was ready, Van Helsing said, before we do anything, let me tell you this. It is out of the lore and experience of the ancients, and of all those who have studied the powers of the undead. When they become such, there comes, with the change, the curse of immortality. They cannot die, but must go on age after age, adding new victims, and multiplying the evils of the world.  And so the circle goes on ever widening, like as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend Arthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy died, or again last night when you opened your arms to her, you would, in time, when you had died, become Nosferatu, as they call it in Eastern Europe, and would for all time make more of those undeads that so have filled us with horror. The career of this so unhappy, dear lady, is but just begun.  So wicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease. The tiny wounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play, unknowing ever of what has been. But, of the most blessed of all, when this now undead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of working wickedness by night and growing more debased in the assimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with the other angels, so that, my friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that shall strike the blow that sets her free. To this I am willing, but there is none amongst us who has a better right. Will it be no joy to think of, hereafter, in the silence of the night when sleep is not? It was my hand that sent her to the stars. It was the hand of him that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been to her to choose. Tell me, if there be such a one amongst us, we all looked at Arthur. He saw, too, what we all did, the infinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which would restore Lucy to us as a holy and not an unholy memory. He stepped forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his face was as pale as snow. My true friend, from the bottom of my broken heart, I thank you, tell me what I am to do, and I shall not falter. Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder and said, brave lad, a moment's courage, and it is done. This stake must be driven through her. It will be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your pain was great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you tread on air, but you must not falter when once you have begun only think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we pray for you all the time. Go on, Arthur said hoarsely. Tell me what I am to do. Take the stake in your left hand, ready to place it to the point over the heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin our prayer for the dead, I shall read him, I have here the book, and the others shall follow. Strike in God's name, that so all may be well with the dead that we love and that the undead pass away. Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was set on action, his hands never trembled, nor even quivered. Van Helsing opened his missile and began to read, and Quincy and I followed as well as we could. Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could see its dent and the white flesh. Then he struck with all his might. The thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous blood curdling screech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and twisted in wild contortions. The sharp white teeth clamped together till the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam. But Arthur never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as his untrembling arm rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the mercy-bearing stake, whilst the blood from the pierced heart welled and spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to shine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so that our voices seemed to ring through the little vault, and then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and the teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay still. The terrible task was over. The hammer fell from Arthur's hand. He reeled and would have fallen had we not caught him. The great drops of sweat sprang from his forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed been an awful strain on him, and had he not been forced to his task by more than human considerations, he could never have gone through with it. For a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did not look towards the coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of startled surprise ran from one to the other of us, we gazed so eagerly that Arthur rose for he had been seated on the ground and came and looked to, and then a glad, strange light broke over his face and dispelled altogether the gloom of horror that lay upon it. There, in the coffin, lay no longer the foul thing that we had so dreaded and groaned to hate, that the work of her destruction was yielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as we had seen her in life, with her face of unequaled sweetness and purity, true that there were there, as we had seen them in life, the traces of care and pain and waste, but these were all dear to us for they marked her truth to what we knew.  Van Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder and said to him, and now, Arthur, my friend, dear lad, am I not forgiven? The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old man's hand in his and raising it to his lips pressed it and said, forgiven, God bless you that you have given my dear one her soul again, and me, peace. He put his hands on the professor's shoulder and laying his head on his breast, cried for a while, silently, whilst we stood unmoving. When he raised his head, Van Helsing said to him, and now, my child, you may kiss her, kiss her dead lips, if you will, as she would have you to, if for her to choose, for she is not a grinning devil now, not any more a foul thing for all eternity. No longer she is the devil's undead. She is God's true dead, whose soul is with him. Arthur Benton kissed her, and then we sent him and Quincy out of the tomb. The professor and I saw the top off the stake, leaving the point of it and the body.   When the professor locked the door, he gave the key to Arthur. Outside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the bird sang, and it seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch. There was gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at rest ourselves on one account, and we were glad, though it was with a tempered joy. Before we moved away Van Helsing said, Now, my friends, one step of our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves, but there remains a greater task, to find out the Arthur of all this our sorrow and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow, but it is a long task, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it, and pain. Shall you not all help me? We have learned to believe all of us, is it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes, and do we not promise to go on to the bitter end? Each in turn we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then said the professor as we moved off, two nights hence, you shall meet with me, and dine together at seven o'clock with friend John. I shall entreat two others, two that you know not as yet, and I shall be ready to all our work show, and our plans unfold. Friend John, you come with me home, for I have much to consult you about, and you can help me. Tonight I leave for Amsterdam, but shall return tomorrow night, and then begins our great quest. But first I shall have much to say, so that you may know what to do, and to dread. Then our promise shall be made to each other anew. For this is a terrible task before us, and once our feet are on the plowshare, we must not draw back. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of Dracula This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Dracula by Bram Stoker Chapter 17 Read by Dennis Sayers Elizabeth Klatt MB Dr. Seward's Diary continued When we arrived at the Barclay Hotel, Van Helsing found a telegram waiting for him. And coming up by train, Jonathan at Whitby, important news, Mina Harker. The Professor was delighted. Ah, that wonderful Madame Mina, he said. Pearl among women. She arrived, but I cannot stay. She must go to your house, friend John. You must meet her at the station. Telegraph her en route, so that she may be prepared. When the wire was dispatched, he had a cup of tea. Over it he told me of a diary kept by Jonathan Harker when abroad, and gave me a typewritten copy of it, as also of Mrs. Harker's diary at Whitby. Take these, he said, and study them well. When I have returned, you will be master of all the facts, and we can then better enter on our inquisition. Keep them safe, for there is in them much of treasure. You will need all your faith, even you who have had such an experience as that of today. What is here told, he laid his hand heavily and gravely on the packet of papers as he spoke, may be the beginning of the end to you and me and many another, or it may sound the knell of the undead who walk the earth. Read all, I pray you, with the open mind, and if you can add in any way to the story here told, do so, for it is all important. You have kept a diary of all these so strange things. Is it not so? Yes, then we shall go through all these together when we meet. He then made ready for his departure, and shortly drove off to Liverpool Street. I took my way to Paddington, where I arrived about fifteen minutes before the train came in. The crowd melted away, after the bustling fashion common to arrival platforms, and I was beginning to feel uneasy, lest I might miss my guest, when a sweet-faced, dainty-looking girl stepped up to me, and after a quick glance said, Dr. Seward, is it not? Ah, and you are Mrs. Harker, I answered at once, whereupon she held out her hand. I knew you from the description of poor dear Lucy, but she stopped suddenly, and a quick blush overspread her face. The blush that rose to my own cheeks somehow set us both at ease, for it was a tacit answer to her own. I got her luggage, which included a typewriter, and we took the underground to Fenchurch Street, after I had sent a wire to my housekeeper to have a sitting room and a bedroom prepared at once for Mrs. Harker. In due time we arrived. She knew, of course, that the place was a lunatic asylum, but I could see that she was unable to repress a shudder when we entered. She told me that, if she might, she would come presently to my study, as she had much to say. So here I am finishing my entry in my phonograph diary, whilst I await her. As yet I have not had the chance of looking at the papers which Van Helsing left with me, though they lie open before me. I must get her interested in something, so that I may have an opportunity of reading them. She does not know how precious time is, or what a task we have in hand. I must be careful not to frighten her. Here she is. Mina Harker's Journal. 29 September. After I had tidied myself, I went down to Dr. Seward's study. At the door I paused a moment, for I thought I heard him talking with someone. As, however, he had pressed me to be quick, I knocked at the door, and on his calling out, come in, I entered. To my intense surprise, there was no one with him. He was quite alone, and on the table opposite him was what I knew at once from the description to be a phonograph. I had never seen one, and was much interested. I hope I did not keep you waiting, I said, but I stayed at the door as I heard you talking, and thought there was someone with you. Oh! he replied with a smile. I was only entering my diary. Your diary? I asked him in surprise. Yes, he answered. I keep it in this. As he spoke, he laid his hand on the phonograph. I felt quite excited over it, and blurted out, why this beats even shorthand. May I hear it say something? Certainly, he replied with alacrity, and stood up to put it in train for speaking. Then he paused, and a troubled look overspread his face. The fact is—he began awkwardly—I only keep my diary in it, and as it is entirely, almost entirely, about my cases it may be awkward. That is, I mean— he stopped, and I tried to help him out of his embarrassment. You helped to attend, dear Lucy, at the end. Let me hear how she died. For all that I know of her, I shall be very grateful. She was very, very dear to me. To my surprise, he answered with a horror-struck look in his face. Tell you of her death! Not for the wide world! Why not? I asked, for some grave, terrible feeling was coming over me. Again he paused, and I could see that he was trying to invent an excuse. At length he stammered out—you see, I do not know how to pick out any particular part of the diary. Even while he was speaking, an idea dawned upon him, and he said with unconscious simplicity, in a different voice, and with the naivete of a child—that's quite true upon my honour—honest Indian. I could not but smile, at which he grimaced. I gave myself away that time, he said, but do you know that, although I have kept the diary for months past, it never once struck me how I was going to find any particular part of it in case I wanted to look it up. By this time my mind was made up that the diary of a doctor who attended Lucy might have something to add to the sum of our knowledge of that terrible being, and I said boldly, then Dr. Seward, you had better let me copy it out for you on my typewriter. He grew to a positively deathly pallor as he said, No, no, no, for all the world! I wouldn't let you know that terrible story. Then it was terrible. My intuition was right. For a moment I thought, and as my eyes ranged the room, unconsciously looking for something or some opportunity to aid me, they lit on a great batch of typewriting on the table. His eyes caught the look in mine, and without his thinking followed their direction. As they saw the parcel, he realised my meaning. You do not know me, I said. When you have read those papers, my own diary, and my husband's also, which I have typed, you will know me better. I have not faltered in giving every thought of my own heart in this cause. But, of course, you do not know me yet, and I must not expect you to trust me so far. He is certainly a man of noble nature. Poor D. Lucey was right about him. He stood up and opened a large drawer, in which were arranged in order a number of hollow cylinders of metal covered with dark wax, and said, You are quite right. I did not trust you because I did not know you. But I know you now, and let me say that I should have known you long ago. I know that Lucey told you of me. She told me of you, too. May I make the only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders and hear them. The first half dozen of them are personal to me, and they will not horrify you. Then you will know me better. Dinner will by then be ready. In the meantime, I shall read over some of these documents, and shall be better able to understand certain things. He carried the phonograph, himself, up to my sitting-room, and adjusted it for me. Now I shall learn something pleasant, I am sure, for it will tell me the other side of a true love episode of which I know one side already. Dr. Seward's Diary 29 September I was so absorbed in that wonderful diary of Jonathan Harker, and that other of his wife, that I let the time run on without thinking. Mrs. Harker was not down when the maid came to announce dinner, so I said, She is possibly tired. Let dinner wait an hour, and I went on with my work. I had just finished Mrs. Harker's diary when she came in. She looked sweetly pretty, but very sad, and her eyes were flushed with crying. This somehow moved me much. Of late I have had cause for tears, God knows. But the relief of them was denied me, and now the sight of those sweet eyes, brightened by recent tears, went straight to my heart. So I said as gently as I could. I greatly fear I have distressed you. Oh no, not distressed me, she replied. But I have been more touched than I can say by your grief. This is a wonderful machine, but it is cruelly true. It told me, in its very tones, the anguish of your heart. It was like a soul crying out to Almighty God. No one must hear them spoken ever again. See, I have tried to be useful. I have copied out the words on my typewriter, and none other need now hear your heart beat, as I did. No one need ever know, shall ever know, I said in a low voice. She laid her hand on mine and said very gravely, but they must. Must, but why, I asked. Because it is a part of the terrible story, a part of poor Lucy's death, and all that led to it. Because in the struggle which we have before us to rid the earth of this terrible monster, we must have all the knowledge and all the help which we can get. I think that the cylinders which you gave me contained more than you intended me to know. But I can see that there are in your record many lights to this dark mystery. You will let me help, will you not? I know all up to a certain point, and I see already, though your diary only took me to 7 September, how poor Lucy was beset, and how her terrible doom was being wrought out. Jonathan and I have been working day and night since Professor Van Helsing saw us. He has gone to Whitby to get more information, and he will be here tomorrow to help us. We need have no secrets amongst us. Working together, and with absolute trust, we can surely be stronger than if some of us were in the dark. She looked at me so appealingly, and at the same time manifested such courage and resolution in her bearing that I gave in at once to her wishes. You shall, I said, do as you like in the matter. God forgive me if I do wrong. There are terrible things yet to learn of, but if you have so far traveled on the road to poor Lucy's death, you will not be content, I know, to remain in the dark. Nay, the end, the very end, may give you a gleam of peace. Come, there is dinner. We must keep one another strong for what is before us. We have a cruel and dreadful task. When you have eaten, you shall learn the rest, and I shall answer any questions you ask. If there be anything which you do not understand, though it was apparent to us, who were present. And arranged the phonographs so that I could touch it without getting up, and showed me how to stop it in case I should want to pause. Then he very thoughtfully took a chair with his back to me, so that I might be as free as possible, and began to read. I put the forked metal to my ears, and listened. When the terrible story of Lucy's death and all that followed was done, I lay back in my chair, powerless. Fortunately, I am not of a fainting disposition. When Dr. Seward saw me, he jumped up with a horrified exclamation, and hurriedly taking a case-bottle from the cupboard, gave me some brandy, which in a few minutes somewhat restored me. My brain was all in a whirl, and only that there came through all the multitude of horrors, the holy ray of light that my dear Lucy was at last at peace. I do not think I could have borne it without making a scene. It is all so wild and mysterious, and strange, that if I had not known Jonathan's experience in Transylvania, I could not have believed. As it was, I didn't know what to believe, and so got out of my difficulty by attending to something else. I took the cover off my typewriter and said to Dr. Seward, Let me write this all out now. We must be ready for Dr. Van Helsing when he comes. I have sent a telegram to Jonathan to come on here when he arrives in London from Whitby. In this matter, dates are everything, and I think that if we get all of our material ready, and have every item put in chronological order, we shall have done much. You tell me that Lord Godling and Mr. Morris are coming too. Let us be able to tell them when they come. He accordingly set the phonograph at a slow pace, and I began to typewrite from the beginning of the seventeenth cylinder. I used manifold, and so took three copies of the diary, just as I had done with the rest. It was late when I got through, but Dr. Seward went about his work of going his round of the patience. When he had finished, he came back and sat near me, reading, so that I did not feel too lonely whilst I worked. How good and thoughtful he is! The world seems full of good men, even if there are monsters in it. Before I left him, I remembered what Jonathan put in his diary of the professor's perturbation at reading something in an evening paper at the station at Exeter. So seeing that Dr. Seward keeps his newspapers, I borrowed the files of the Westminster Gazette and the Paul Maul Gazette, and took them to my room. I remember how much the Daily Graph and the Whitby Gazette, of which I had made cuttings, had helped us to understand the terrible events at Whitby when Count Dracula landed. So I shall look through the evening papers since then, and perhaps I shall get some new light. I am not sleepy, and the work will help to keep me quiet. Dr. Seward's Diary 30 September Mr. Harker arrived at nine o'clock. He got his wife's wire just before starting. He is uncommonly clever, if one can judge from his face, and full of energy. If this journal be true, and judging by one's own wonderful experiences it must be, he is also a man of great nerve. That going down to the vault a second time was a remarkable piece of daring. After reading his account I was prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood, but hardly the quiet, business-like gentleman who came here today. Later After lunch Harker and his wife went back to their own room, and as I passed a while ago I heard the click of the typewriter. They are hard at it. Mrs. Harker says that they are knitting together in chronological order every scrap of evidence they have. Harker has got the letters between the constignee of the boxes at Whitby, and the carriers in London who took charge of them. He is now reading his wife's transcript of my diary. I wonder what they make out of it. Here it is. Strange that it never struck me that the very next house might be the count's hiding place. Goodness knows we had enough clues from the conduct of the patient, Renfield. The bundle of letters relating to the purchase of the house were with the transcript. Oh, if we had only had them earlier, we might have saved poor Lucy. Now stop. That way madness lies. Harker has gone back and is again collecting material. He says that by dinner time they will be able to show a whole connected narrative. He thinks that in the meantime I should see Renfield as hitherto he has been a sort of index to the coming and going of the count. I hardly see this yet, but when I get at the dates I suppose I shall. What a good thing that Mrs. Harker put my cylinders into type. We never could have found the dates otherwise. I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room with his hands folded, smiling benignly. At the moment he seemed as sane as anyone I ever saw. I sat down and talked with him on a lot of subjects, all of which he treated naturally. He then of his own accord spoke of going home, a subject he has never mentioned to my knowledge during his sojourn here. In fact he spoke quite confidently of getting his discharge at once. I believe that had I not had the chat with Harker and read the letters and the dates of his outbursts I should have been prepared to sign for him, after a brief time of observation. As it is, I am darkly suspicious. All those outbreaks were in some way linked with the proximity of the count. What then does this absolute content mean? Can it be that his instinct is satisfied as to the vampire's ultimate triumph? Stay. He is himself Zoophagus, and in his wild ravings, outside the chapel door of the deserted house, he always spoke of Master. This all seems confirmation of our idea. However, after a while I came away. My friend is just a little too sane at present to make it safe to probe him too deep with questions. He might begin to think, and then so I came away. I mistrust these quiet moods of his, so I have given the attendant a hint to look after him, and to have a straight waistcoat ready in case of need. 29 September, in train to London. When I received Mr. Billington's courteous message that he would give me any information in his power, I thought it best to go down to Whitby and make on the spot such inquiries as I wanted. It was now my object to trace that horrid cargo of the counts to its place in London. Later we may be able to deal with it. Billington, Jr., a nice lad, met me at the station and brought me to his father's house, where they had decided that I must spend the night. They are hospitable, with true Yorkshire hospitality. Give a guest everything and leave him to do as he likes. They all knew that I was busy and that my stay was short, and Mr. Billington had ready in his office all the papers concerning the consignment of boxes. It gave me almost a turn to see, again, one of the letters which I had seen on the counts table before I knew of his diabolical plans. Everything had been carefully thought out and done systematically and with precision. He seemed to have been prepared for every obstacle which might be placed by accident in the way of his intentions being carried out. To use an Americanism he had taken no chances, and the absolute accuracy with which his instructions were fulfilled was simply the logical result of his care. I saw the invoice and took note of it. Fifty cases of common earth to be used for experimental purposes. Also the copy of the letter to Carter Patterson and their reply. Of both these I got copies. This was all the information Mr. Billington could give me, so I went down to the port and saw the coast guards, the customs officers, and the harbour master who kindly put me in communication with the men who had actually received the boxes. Their tally was exact with the list, and they had nothing to add to the simple description, 50 cases of common earth, except that the boxes were main and mortal heavy and that shifting them was dry work. One of them added that it was hard lines that there wasn't any gentlemen, such as like yourself, Squire, to show some sort of appreciation of their efforts in a liquid form. Another put me in a rider that the thirst then generated was such that even the time which had elapsed had not completely eladed. Needless to add I took care before leaving to Lyft, forever and adequately this source of reproach. 30 September. The station master was good enough to give me a line to his old companion, the station master, at King's Cross, so that when I arrived there in the morning I was able to ask him about the arrival of the boxes. He too put me at once in communication with the proper officials, and I saw that their tally was correct with the original invoice. The opportunities of acquiring an abnormal thirst had been here limited. A noble use of them however had been made, and again I was compelled to deal with the result in ex post facto manner. From thence I went to Carter Patterson's central office, where I met with the utmost courtesy. They looked up the transaction in their daybook and letter-book, and at once telephoned to their King's Cross office for more details. By good fortune the men who did the teaming were waiting for work, and the official at once sent them over, sending also by one of them the waybill and all the papers connected with the delivery of the boxes at Carfax. Here again I found the tally agreeing exactly. The carrier's men were able to supplement the falsity of the written word with a few more details. These were, I shortly found, connected almost solely with the dusty nature of the job, and the consequent thirst engendered in the operators. On my affording an opportunity through the medium of the currency of the realm of the, allaying at a later period, this beneficial evil, one of the men remarked, That ear-house, Governor, is the rummiest I ever was in! Blimey! But it ain't been touched as a hundred years. There was dust that thick in the place you might have slept on it without hurting of your bones. And the place was that neglected that you might have smelled old Jerusalem in it. But the old chapel, that took the kite, that did. Me and my mate, we thought we'd never get out quick enough. Nor I wouldn't take less nor a quitter moment to stay there out of dark. Having been in the house I could well believe him, but if he knew what I know he would, I think, have raised his terms. Of one thing I am now satisfied, that all those boxes which arrived at Whitby from Varna in the Demeter were safely deposited in the old chapel at Carfax. There should be fifty of them there, unless any have since been removed, as from Dr. Seward's diary I fear. Later Meena and I have worked all day, and we have put all the papers into order. Meena Harker's Journal 30th September I am so glad that I hardly know how to contain myself. It is, I suppose, the reaction from the haunting fear which I have had, that this terrible affair and the reopening of his old wound might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for Whitby with as brave a face as good, but I was sick with apprehension. The effort has, however, done him good. He was never so resolute, never so strong, never so full of volcanic energy as at present. It is just as that dear good Professor Van Helsing said, he is true grit, and he improves under strain that would kill a weaker nature. He came back full of life and hope and determination. We have got everything in order for tonight. I feel myself quite wild with excitement. I suppose one ought to pity anything so hunted as the count. That is just it. The thing is not human, not even a beast. To read Dr. Seward's account of poor Lucy's death and what followed is enough to dry up the springs of pity in one's heart. Later Lord Goddelming and Mr. Morris arrived earlier than we expected. Dr. Seward was out on business and had taken Jonathan with him, so I had to see them. It was to me a painful meeting, for it brought back all poor dear Lucy's hopes of only a few months ago. Of course, they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr. Van Helsing, too, had been quite blowing my trumpet, as Mr. Morris expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of them is aware that I know all about the proposals they made to Lucy. They did not quite know what to say or do, as they were ignorant of the amount of my knowledge, so they had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I thought them out over, and came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do would be to post them on fares right up to date. I knew from Dr. Seward's diary that they had been at Lucy's death, her real death, and that I need not fear to betray any secret before the time. So I told them, as well as I could, that I had read all the papers and diaries, and that my husband and I, having typed Britain them, had just finished putting them in order. I gave them each a copy to read in the library. When Lord Godelming got his and turned it over, it does make a pretty good pile, he said, Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker? I nodded, and he went on. I don't quite see the drift of it, but you people are all so good and kind, and have been working so earnestly and so energetically, that all I can do is to accept your ideas blindfold and try to help you. I have had one lesson already in accepting facts that should make a man humbled the last hour of his life. Besides, I know you loved my Lucy.  I could hear the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris, with instinctive delicacy, just laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder, and then walked quietly out of the room. I suppose there is something in a woman's nature that makes a man free to break down before her, and express his feelings on the tender or emotional side, without feeling it derogatory to his manhood. For when Lord Godelming found himself alone with me, he sat down on the sofa, and gave way utterly and openly. I sat down beside him, and took his hand. I hope he didn't think it forward of me, and that if he ever thinks of it afterwards, he never will have such a thought. There I wrong him. I know he never will. He is too true a gentleman. I said to him, for I could see that his heart was breaking. I loved dear Lucy, and I know what she was to you, and what you were to her. She and I were like sisters, and now she is gone. Will you not let me be like a sister to you in your trouble? I know what sorrows you have had, though I cannot measure the depth of them. If sympathy and pity can help in your affliction, won't you let me be of some little service, for Lucy's sake? In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmed with grief. It seemed to me that all that he had been of late suffering in silence found event at once. He grew quite hysterical, and raising his open hands beat his palms together in a perfect agony of grief. He stood up and then sat down again, and the tears rained down his cheeks. I felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my arms unthinkingly.  We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise above smaller matters, when the mother's spirit is invoked. I felt this big, sorrowing man's head resting on me, as though it were that of a baby that some day may lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair as though he were my own child. I never thought at the time how strange it all was. After a little bit his sob ceased, and he raised himself with an apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me that, for days and nights passed, weary days and sleepless nights, he had been unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his time of sorrow. There was no woman whose sympathy could be given to him, or with whom, owing to the terrible circumstance with which his sorrow was surrounded, he could speak freely. I know now how I have suffered, he said, as he dried his eyes. But I do not know even yet, and none other can ever know, how much your sweet sympathy has been to me to-day. I shall know better in time, and believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother, will you not, for all our lives, for Deolusi's sake.  I, and for your own sake, he added, for if a man's esteem and gratitude are ever worth the winning, you have won mine to-day. If ever the future should bring you to a time when you need a man's help, believe me, you will not call in vain. God grant that no such time may ever come to you to break the sunshine of your life, but if it should ever come, promise me that you will let me know. He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that I felt it would comfort him, so I said, I promise. As I came along the corridor, I saw Mr. Morris looking out of a window. He turned as he heard my footsteps. How his art, he said. Then noticing my red eyes, he went on— Ah! I see you have been comforting him. Poor old fellow, he needs it. No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no one to comfort him. He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bled for him. I saw the manuscript in his hand, and I knew that when he read it he would realize how much I knew. So I said to him, I wish I could comfort all who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and will you come to me for comfort if you need it? You will know later why I speak. He saw that I was an earnest, and stooping took my hand and raising it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his throat. He said quite calmly, little girl, you will never forget that true-hearted kindness so long as ever you live. Then he went into the study to his friend. Little girl, the very words he'd used to Lucy, and oh, but he proved himself a friend. Dr. Seward's Diary 30 September I got home at five o'clock and found that Godowning and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the manuscript of the various diaries and letters, while Harker had not yet returned from his visit to the Carrier's Men, of whom Dr. Hennessey had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I can honestly say that for the first time since I have lived in it, this old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs. Harker said, Dr. Seward, may I ask a favor? I want to see your patient, Mr. Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your diary interests me so much. She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and there was no possible reason why I should, so I took her with me. When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see him, to which he simply answered, why? She is going through the house and wants to see everyone in it, I answered. Oh, very well, he said. Let her come in, by all means, but just wait a minute till I tidy up the place. His method of tidying was peculiar. He simply swallowed all the flies and spiders and the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite evident that he feared or was jealous of some interference. When he had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully, let the lady come in, and sat down on the edge of his bed with his head down, but with his eyelids raised so that he could see her as she entered. For a moment I thought he might have some homicidal intent. I remembered how quiet he had been just before he attacked me in my own study, and I took care to stand where I could seize him at once, if he attempted to make a spring at her. She came into the room with an easy gracefulness, which would at once command the respect of any lunatic, for easiness is one of the qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling pleasantly, and held out her hand. Good evening, Mr. Renfield, said she. You see, I know you, for Dr. Seward has told me of you. He made no immediate reply, but eyed her all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look gave way to one of wonder, which merged in doubt. Then, to my intense astonishment, he said, you're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead. Mrs. Harker smiled sweetly as she replied. Oh, no, I have a husband of my own, to whom I was married before I ever saw Dr. Seward, or he me. I am Mrs. Harker. Then what are you doing here? My husband and I are staying on a visit with Dr. Seward. Then don't stay, but why not? I thought that this style of conversation might not be pleasant to Mrs. Harker any more than it was to me, so I joined in. How did you know I wanted to marry anyone? His reply was simply contemptuous, given in a pause in which he turned his eyes from Mrs. Harker to me, instantly turning them back again. What an asinine question. I don't see that at all, Mr. Renfield said Mrs. Harker at once championing me. He replied to her with as much courtesy and respect as he had shown contempt to me. You will of course understand, Mrs. Harker, that when a man is so loved and honored as our host is, everything regarding him is of interest in our little community. Dr. Seward is loved not only by his household and his friends, but even by his patients, who being some of them hardly in mental equilibrium, are apt to distort causes and effects. Since I myself have been an inmate of a lunatic asylum, I cannot but notice that the sophistic tendencies of some of its inmates lean towards the errors of Nancausa and Inoracio Ilenche. I positively opened my eyes at this new development. Here was my own pet lunatic, the most pronounced of his type that I had ever met with, talking elemental philosophy, and with the manner of a polished gentleman. I wondered if it was Ms. Harker's presence, which had touched some chord in his memory. If this new phase was spontaneous, or in any way due to her unconscious influence, she must have some rare gift or power. We continued to talk for some time, and seeing that he was seemingly quite reasonable, she ventured, looking at me questioningly as she began, to lead him to his favorite topic. I was again astonished, for he addressed himself to the question with the impartiality of the completest sanity. He even took himself as an example when he mentioned certain things. Why, I myself am an instance of a man who had a strange belief. Indeed, it was no wonder that my friends were alarmed, and insisted on my being put under control. I used to fancy that life was a positive and perpetual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of live things, no matter how low in the scale of creation, one might indefinitely pro-long life. At times I held the belief so strongly that I actually tried to take human life. The doctor here will bear me out, that on one occasion I tried to kill him, for the purpose of strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body of his life through the medium of his blood.  Though indeed the vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarized the truism to the very point of contempt. Isn't that true, doctor? I nodded assent, for I was so amazed, that I hardly knew what to either think or say. It was hard to imagine that I had seen him eat up his spiders and flies, not five minutes before. Looking at my watch, I saw that I should go to the station to meet Van Helsing, so I told Mrs. Harker that it was time to leave. She came at once, after saying pleasantly to Mr. Renfield, good-bye, and I hope I may see you often, under auspices, pleasanter to yourself.  May he bless and keep you. When I went to the station to meet Van Helsing, I left the boys behind me. Poor Art seemed more cheerful than he has been since Lucy first took ill, and Quincy is more like his own bright self than he has been for many a long day. Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eager nimbleness of a boy. He saw me at once and rushed up to me, saying, ah, friend John, how goes all? Well, so I have been busy for I come here to stay, if need be. All affairs are settled with me, and I have much to tell. Madam Mina is with you? Yes, and her so fine husband. And Arthur and my friend Quincy, they are with you too? Good. As I drove to the house, I told him of what had passed, and of how my own diary had come to be of some use through Mrs. Harker's suggestion, at which the professor interrupted me. Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina. She has man's brain, a brain that a man should have were he much gifted, and a woman's heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me, when he made that so good combination. Friend John, up to now Fortune has made that woman of help to us. After tonight she must not have to do with this so terrible affair. It is not good that she run a risk, so great. We men are determined, nay, are we not pledged to destroy this monster. But it is no part for a woman. Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors, and hereafter she may suffer, both in waking from her nerves and in sleep from her dreams. And besides, she is young woman and not so long married. There may be other things to think of sometime, if not now. You tell me she has wrote all, then she must consult with us. But tomorrow she say goodbye to this work, and we go alone. I heartily agreed with him, and then I told him what we had found in his absence, that the house which Dracula had bought was the very next one to my own. He was amazed, and a great concern seemed to come on him. Go, that we had known it before, he said, for then we might have reached him in time to save poor Lucy. However, the milk that dispels cries not out afterwards. As you say, we shall not think of that, but go on our way to the end. Then he fell into a silence that lasted till we entered my own gateway. Before we went to prepare for dinner, he said to Mrs. Harker, I am told, Madam Mina, by my friend John, that you and your husband have put up in exact order all things that have been up to this moment. Not up to this moment, Professor, she said impulsively, but up to this morning. But why not up to now? We have seen hitherto how good light all the little things have made. We have told our secrets, and yet no one who has told is the worst for it. Mrs. Harker began to blush, and taking a paper from her pockets, she said, Dr. Van Helsing, will you read this and tell me if it must go in? It is my record of today. I too have seen the need of putting down at present everything, however trivial, but there is little in this except what is personal. Must it go in? The Professor read it over gravely, and handed it back, saying, It need not go in if you do not wish it, but I pray that it may. It can but make your husband love you more, and all us, your friends, more honor you, as well as more esteem and love. She took it back with another blush and a bright smile. And so, up to this very hour, all the records we have are complete, and in order. The Professor took away one copy to study after dinner, and before our meeting, which is fixed for nine o'clock. The rest of us have already read everything, so when we meet in the study, we shall all be informed as to facts, and can arrange our plan of battle with this terrible and mysterious enemy. Mina Harker's Journal 30th September. When we met in Dr. Seward's study two hours after dinner, which had been at six o'clock, we unconsciously formed a sort of board or committee. Professor Van Helsing took the head of the table to which Dr. Seward motioned him as he came into the room. He made me sit next to him on his right, and asked me to act as secretary. Jonathan sat next to me. Opposite us were Lord Godelming, Dr. Seward, and Mr. Morris, Lord Godelming being next to the Professor, and Dr. Seward in the centre. The Professor said, I may, I suppose, take it that we are all acquainted with the facts that are in these papers? We all expressed ascent, and he went on. Then it were, I think, good that I tell you something of the kind of enemy with which we have to deal. I shall then make known to you something of the history of this man, which has been ascertained for me. So we then can discuss how we shall act, and can take our measure according. There are such beings as vampires. Some of us have evidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane peoples. I admit that at the first I was sceptic. Were it not that through long years I have trained myself to keep an open mind, I could not have believed until such time as that fact thunder on my ear. See, see, I prove, I prove. Alas, had I known at first what I know now, nay, had I even guess at him, one so precious life had been spared to many of us who did love her. But that is gone, and we must so work that other poor souls perish not whilst we can save. The Nosferatu do not die like the bee when he sting once. He is only stronger, and being stronger have yet more power to work evil. This vampire, which is amongst us, is of himself so strong in person as twenty men. He is of cunning more than mortal, for his cunning be the growth of ages. He have still the aids of necromancy, which is, as his etymology imply, the divination by the dead, and all the dead that he can come nigh to offer him at command. He is brute, and more than brute. He is devil and callous, and the heart of him is not. He can within his range direct the elements, the storm, the fog, the thunder. He can command all the meaner things, the rat, the owl, the bat, the moth, the fox, and the wolf. He can grow and become small, and he can at times vanish and come unknown. How, then, are we to begin our strike to destroy him? How shall we find his wear, and having found it, how can we destroy? My friends, this is much. It is a terrible task that we undertake, and there may be consequence to make the brave shudder. For if we fail in this our fight, he must surely win. And then, where end we? Life is nothing. I heed him not. But a fail here is not mere life or death. It is that we become as him, that we henceforth become foul things of the night like him, without heart or conscience, praying on the bodies and the souls of those we love best. To us, forever, are the gates of heaven shut. For who shall open them to us again? We go on for all time aboard by all a blot on the face of God's sunshine, an arrow in the side of him who died for man. But we are face to face with duty, and in such case, must we shrink? For me, I say no. But then I am old. End life with his sunshine, his fair places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in store. What say you? Whilst he was speaking, Jonathan had taken my hand. I feared, oh, so much that the appalling nature of our danger was overcoming him, when I saw his hand stretch out. But it was life to me to feel its touch, so strong, so self-reliant, so resolute. A brave man's hand can speak for itself. It does not even need a woman's love to hear its music. When the professor had done speaking, my husband looked in my eyes, and I in his. There is no need for speaking between us. I answer for Mina and myself, he said. Count me in, Professor," said Mr. Quincy Morris, laconically as usual. I am with you, said Lord Godleming, for Lucy's sake, if for no other reason. Dr. Seward simply nodded. The professor stood up, and after laying his golden crucifix on the table, held out his hand on either side. I took his right hand, and Lord Godleming his left. Jonathan held my right with his left, and stretched across to Mr. Morris. So, as we all took hands, our solemn compact was made. I felt my heart icy cold, but it did not even occur to me to draw back. We resumed our places, and Dr. Van Helsing went on with a sort of cheerfulness which showed that the serious work had begun. It was to be taken as gravely, and in as businesslike a way, as any other transaction of life. Well, you know what we have to contend against, but we too are not without strength. We have, on our side, power of combination, a power denied to the vampire kind. We have sources of science. We are free to act and think, and the hours of the day and the night are ours equally. In fact, so far as our powers extend, they are unfettered, and we are free to use them. We have self-devotion in a cause, and an end to achieve which is not a selfish one. These things are much. Now, let us see how far the general powers arrayed against us are restrict, and how the individual cannot. In fine, let us consider the limitations of the vampire in general, and of this one, in particular. All we have to go upon are traditions and superstitions. These do not at the first appear much, when the matter is one of life and death, nay, of more than either life or death. Yet must we be satisfied, in the first place, because we have to be, no other means is at our control, and secondly, because after all these things, tradition and superstition, are everything. Does not the belief in vampires rest for others, though not alas for us, on them? A year ago, which of us would have received such a possibility, in the midst of our scientific, skeptical matter-of-fact nineteenth century? We even scouted a belief that we saw justified under our very eyes. Take it, then, that the vampire, and the belief in his limitations and his cure, rest for the moment on the same base.  In old Greece, in old Rome, he flourished in Germany all over, in France, in India, even in the Sherma Seas, and in China, so far from us in all ways. There even is he, and the peoples for him at this day. He have followed the wake of the berserker Icelander, the devil-begotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, the Magya. So far, then, we have all we may act upon, and let me tell you that very much of the beliefs are justified by what we have seen in our own so unhappy experience. The vampire live on, and cannot die by mere passing of the time. He can flourish when that he can fatten on the blood of the living. Even more, we have seen amongst us that he can grow even younger, that his vital faculties grow strenuous, and seem as though they refresh themselves when his special pabulum is plenty. But he cannot flourish without this diet. He eat not as others. Even friend Jonathan, who lived with him for weeks, did not ever see him eat, never. He throws no shadow. He make in the mirror no reflect, as again Jonathan observe. He has the strength of many of his hand. Witness again, Jonathan, when he shut the door against the wolves, and when he help him from the diligence too. He can transform himself to wolf, as we gather from the ship arrival in Whitby, when he tear open the dog. He can be as bat, as Madame Mina saw him on the window at Whitby, and as friend John saw him fly from this Sonia house, and as my friend Quincy saw him at the window of Miss Lucy. He can come in mist, which he create. That noble ship's captain proved him of this. But, from what we know, the distance he can make this mist is limited, and it can only be round himself. He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust, as again Jonathan saw those sisters in the castle of Dracula. He become so small we ourselves saw Miss Lucy, ere she was at peace, slipped through a hare's breath spate at the tomb's door. He can, when once he find his way, come out from anything or into anything, no matter how close it be bound, or even fused up with fire—solder, you call it. He can see in the dark, no small power this, in a world which is one half shut from the light. Ah, but hear me through. He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay, he is even more prisoner than the slave of the galley, than the madmen in his cell. He cannot go where he lists. He, who is not of nature, has yet to obey some of nature's laws. Why, we know not. He may not enter anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please. His power ceases, as does that of all evil things, at the coming of the day. Only at certain times can he have limited freedom. If he be not at the place where he is bound, he can only change himself at noon or at exact sunrise or sunset. These things we are told, and in this record of ours, we have proof by inference. Thus, whereas he can do as he will within his limit, when he have his earth-home, his coffin-home, his hell-home, the place unhallowed as we saw when he went to the grave of the suicide at Whitby, still at other time he can only change when the time come. It is said, too, that he can only pass running water at the slack or the flood of the tide. Then there are things which so afflict him that he has no power, as the garlic that we know of, and as for things sacred, as this symbol, my crucifix, that was amongst us even now when we resolve. To them he is nothing, but in their presence he take his place far off and silent with respect. There are others, too, which I shall tell you of, lest in our seeking we may need them. The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not from it. A sacred bullet fired into the coffin kill him so that he may be true dead, and as for the stake through him, we know already of its peace, or the cut-off head that giveth rest. We have seen it with our eyes. Thus, when we find the habitation of this man that was, we can confine him to his coffin and destroy him, if we obey what we know. But he is clever. I have asked my friend Arminius of Budapest University to make his record, and from all the memes that are, he tell me of what he has been. He must, indeed, have been that Voivoda Dracula who won his name against the Turk, over the great river on the very frontier of Turkeyland. If it be so, then he was no common man. For in that time, and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the land beyond the forest. That mighty brain, and that iron resolution went with him to his grave, and are even now arrayed against us. The Dracula's were, says Arminius, a great and noble race, though now and again with scions who were held by the co-evils to have dealings with the evil one. They learned his secrets in the Scolomants, amongst the mountains over Lake Hermannstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar is his due. In the records there are words such as Sregoica, Witch, Ordog, and Pokol, Satan, and Hell, and in one manuscript this very Dracula is spoken of as Wampere, which we all understand too well. There have been from the loins of this very one great man and good women, and their graves make sacred the earth, while alone this foulness can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that this evil thing is rooted deep in all good. In soil barren of holy memories it cannot rest. Whilst they were talking, Mr. Morris was looking steadily at the window, and he now got up quietly, and went out of the room. There was a little pause, and then the professor went on. And now we must settle what we do. We have here much data, and we must proceed to lay out our campaign. We know from the inquiry of Jonathan that from the castle to Whitby came fifty boxes of earth, all of which were delivered at Carfax. We also know that at least some of these boxes have been removed. It seems to me that our first step should be to ascertain whether all the rest remain in the house beyond that wall where we look today, or whether any more have been removed. If the latter we must trace. Here we were interrupted in a very startling way. Outside the house came the sound of a pistol shot. The glass of the window was shattered with the bullet, which ricocheting from the top of the embrasure struck the far wall of the room. I am afraid I am at heart to cowered, for I shrieked out. The men all jumped to their feet. Lord Godelming flew over to the window and threw up the sash. As he did so, we heard Mr. Morris' voice without, sorry, I fear I have alarmed you. I shall come in and tell you about it." A minute later he came in and said, It was an idiotic thing of me to do, and I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harker, most sincerely. I fear I must have frightened you terribly. But the fact is that, whilst the professor was talking, there came a big bat and sat on the window sill. I have got such a horror of the damn brutes from recent events that I cannot stand them. And I went out to have a shot, as I have been doing late of evenings, whenever I have seen one. He used to laugh at me for a then-art. Did you hit it? asked Dr. Van Helsing. I don't know, I fancy not, for it flew away into the wood. Without saying any more, he took his seat, and the professor began to resume his statement. We must trace each of these boxes, and when we are ready, we must either capture or kill this monster in his lair. Or we must, so to speak, sterilize the earth, so that no more he can seek safety in it. Thus in the end we may find him in his form of man between the hours of noon and sunset, and so engage with him when he is at his most weak. And now for you, Madame Mina, this night is the end until all be well.  When we part to-night, you no more must question. We shall tell you all in good time. We are men, and are able to bear. But you must be our star and our hope, and we shall act all the more free that you are not in the danger, such as we are. All the men, even Jonathan, seemed relieved. But it did not seem to me good that they should brave danger, and perhaps lessen their safety, strength being the best safety, through care of me. But their minds were made up, and though it were a bitter pill for me to swallow, I could say nothing, save to accept their chivalrous care of me. Mr. Morris resumed the discussion. As there is no time to lose, I vote we have a look at his house right now. Time is everything with him, and swift action on our part may save another victim. I own that my heart began to fail me when the time for action came so close, but I did not say anything, for I had a great of fear that if I appeared as a drag or a hindrance to their work, they might even leave me out of their councils altogether. They have now gone off to Carfax, with means, to get into the house. Man-like, they had told me to go to bed and sleep, as if a woman can sleep when though she loves her in danger. I shall lie down and pretend to sleep, lest Jonathan have added anxiety about me when he returns. Dr. Seward's Diary 1 October 4 a.m. Just as we were about to leave the house, an urgent message was brought to me from Renfield to know if I would see him at once, as he had something of the utmost importance to say to me. I told the messenger to say that I would attend to his wishes in the morning. I was busy just at the moment. The attendant added, he seems very importunate, sir. I have never seen him so eager. I don't know, but what if you don't see him soon, he will have one of his violent fits. I knew the man would not have said this without some cause. So I said, all right, I'll go now. And I asked the others to wait a few minutes for me, as I had to go and see my patient. Take me with you, friend John, said the professor. His case in your diary interests me much, and it had bearing too, now and again on our case. I should much like to see him, and is special when his mind is disturbed. May I come also, asked Lord Galdamming. Me too, said Quincy Morris. May I come, said Harker. I nodded, and we all went down the passage together. We found him in a state of considerable excitement, but far more rational in his speech and manner than I had ever seen him. There was an unusual understanding of himself, which was unlike anything I had ever met with in a lunatic, and he took it for granted that his reasons would prevail with others entirely sane. We all five went into the room, but none of the others, at first, said anything. His request was that I would at once release him from the asylum and send him home. Then he backed up with arguments regarding his complete recovery, and deduced his own existing sanity. I appeal to your friends, he said, they will perhaps not mind sitting in judgment on my case. By the way, you have not introduced me. I was so much astonished that the oddness of introducing a madman in an asylum did not strike me at the moment, and besides, there was a certain dignity in the man's manner, so much of the habit of equality that I at once made the introduction. Lord Godalming, Professor von Helsing, Mr. Quincy Morris of Texas, Mr. Jonathan Harker, Mr. Renfield. He shook hands with each of them, saying in turn, Lord Godalming, I had the honor of seconding your father at the Wyndham. I grieve to know, by your holding the title, that he is no more. He was a man loved and honored by all who knew him, and in his youth was, I have heard, the inventor of a burnt rum punch, much patronized on derby night. Mr. Morris, you should be proud of your great state. Its reception into the union was a precedent which may have far-reaching effects hereafter, when the pole and the tropics may hold allegiance to the stars and stripes. The power of treaty may yet prove a vast engine of enlargement, when the Monroe Doctrine takes its true place as a political fable. What shall any man say of his pleasure at meeting van Helsing? Sir, I make no apology for dropping all forms of conventional prefix. When an individual has revolutionized therapeutics by his discovery of the continuous evolution of brain matter, conventional forms are unfitting, since they would seem to limit him to one of a class. You gentlemen, who by nationality, by heredity, or by the possession of natural gifts, are fitted to hold your respective places in the moving world. I take to witness that I am, as saying, as at least the majority of men, who are in full possession of their liberties, and I am sure that you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian and medical jurist, as well as scientist, will deem it a moral duty to deal with me as one to be considered as under exceptional circumstances. He made this last appeal with a courtly air of conviction, which was not without its own charm. I think we were all staggered. For my own part, I was under the conviction, despite my knowledge of the man's character and history, that his reason had been restored, and I felt under a strong impulse to tell him that I was satisfied as to his sanity and would see about the necessary formalities for his release in the morning. I thought it better to wait, however, before making so grave a statement, for of old I knew the sudden changes to which this particular patient was liable. So I contented myself with making a general statement that he appeared to be improving very rapidly, that I would have a longer chat with him in the morning, and would then see what I could do in the direction of meeting his wishes. This did not at all satisfy him, for he said quickly, but I fear, Dr. Seward, that you hardly apprehend my wish. I desire to go at once, here, now, this very hour, this very moment, if I may. Time presses, and in our implied agreement with the old sithemen, it is of the essence of the contract. I am sure it is only necessary to put before so admirable a practitioner as Dr. Seward, so simple yet so momentous a wish to ensure its fulfillment. He looked at me keenly, and seeing the negative in my face, turned to the others, and scrutinized them closely, not meeting any sufficient response. He went on, is it possible that I have erred in my supposition? You have, I said frankly, but at the same time as I felt, brutally. There was a considerable pause, and then he said slowly, then I suppose I must only shift my ground of request. Let me ask for this concession, boon, privilege of what you will. I am content to implore, in such a case, not on personal grounds, but for the sake of others. I am not at liberty to give you the whole of my reasons, but you may, I assure you, take it from me that they are good ones, sound and unselfish, and spring from the highest sense of duty. Could you look, sir, into my heart? You would approve to the full the sentiments which animate me, nay, more you would count me amongst the best and truest of your friends. Again, he looked at us all keenly. I had a growing conviction that this sudden change of his entire intellectual method was but yet another phase of his madness, and so determined to let him go on a little longer, knowing from experience that he would, like all lunatics, give himself away in the end. Van Helsing was gazing at him with a look of utmost intensity, his bushy eyebrows almost meeting with the fixed concentration of his look. He said to Renfield, in a tone which did not surprise me at the time, but only when I thought of it afterwards, for it was as of one addressing an equal. Can you not tell frankly your real reason for wishing to be free tonight? I will undertake that if you will satisfy even me, a stranger, without prejudice, and with the habit of keeping an open mind, Dr. Seward will give you, at his own risk, and on his own responsibility, the privilege you seek. He shook his head sadly, and with a look of poignant regret on his face. The professor went on. Come, sir, be-think yourself. You claim the privilege of reason in the highest degree, since you seek to impress us with your complete reasonableness. You do this, whose sanity we have reason to doubt, since you are not yet released from medical treatment, for this very defect. If you will not help us in our effort to choose the wisest course, how can we perform the duty which you yourself put upon us? Be wise and help us, and if we can, we shall aid you to achieve your wish. He still shook his head as he said, Dr. Van Helsing, I have nothing to say. Your argument is complete, and if I were free to speak, I should not hesitate a moment. But I am not my own master in the matter. I can only ask you to trust me. If I am refused, the responsibility does not rest with me. I thought it was now time to end the scene, which was becoming too comically grave, so I went towards the door, simply saying, Come, my friends, we have work to do. Good night. As, however, I got near the door, a new change came over the patient. He moved towards me so quickly, that for the moment I feared that he was about to make another homicidal attack. My fears, however, were groundless, for he held up his two hands imploringly, and made his petition in a moving manner. As he saw that the very excess of his emotion was militating against him, by restoring us more to our old relations, he became still more demonstrative. I glanced at Van Helsing and saw my conviction reflected in his eyes, so I became a little more fixed in my manner, if not more stern, and motioned to him that his efforts were unavailing. I had previously seen something of the same, constantly growing excitement in him, when he had to make some request, of which, at the time, he had thought much, such as, for instance, as when he wanted a cat. And I was prepared to see the collapse into the same sullen acquiescence on this occasion. My expectation was not realized, for when he found that his appeal would not be successful, he got into quite a frantic condition. He threw himself on his knees and held up his hands, ringing them in plaintive supplication, and poured forth a torrent of entreaty, with the tears rolling down his cheeks, and his whole face and form expressive of the deepest emotion. Let me entreat you, Dr. Seward, oh, let me implore you to let me out of this house at once. Send me away how you will, and where you will, send keepers with me with whips and chains. Let them take me in a straight waistcoat, manacled and leg-ironed even to jail, but let me go out of this. You don't know what you do by keeping me here. I am speaking from the depths of my heart, of my very soul. You don't know whom you wrong, or how, and I may not tell. Woe is me! I may not tell. By all you hold sacred, by all you hold dear, by your love that is lost, by your hope that lives for the sake of the Almighty. Take me out of this and save my soul from guilt. Can't you hear me, man?  Will you never learn? Don't you know that I am sane and earnest now, that I am no lunatic and a man fit, but a sane man fighting for his soul? Oh, hear me. Hear me! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Oh, I thought that the longer this went on the wilder he would get, and so would bring on a fit. So I took him by the hand and raised him up. Come, I said sternly, no more of this. We have had quite enough already. Get to your bed and try to behave more discreetly. He suddenly stopped and looked at me intently for several moments. Then, without a word, he rose and, moving over, sat down on the side of the bed. The collapse had come, as on former occasions, just as I had expected. When I was leaving the room, last of our party, he said to me in a quiet, well-bred voice. You will, I trust, Dr. Steward, do me the justice to bear in mind, later on, that I did what I could to convince you tonight.


The president's budget proposal eliminates public media funding. Learn how you can help at lptv.org slash action. Well for many the Bemidji JC's home sport and travel show is the kickoff for the spring and summer recreation season. Josh Peterson was there and shows us how this yearly event provides everyone an opportunity to see what's hot for outdoor fun each year. For 40 years the Bemidji JC's home sport and travel shows vendors have built the event center floors with booths and activities all promoting the latest and newest products. A large portion of those vendors are ones that specialize in outdoor recreation. Something that the JC's feel is a key factor for why people attend the show every year. This kind of helps you plan what you're going to do for the rest of your year. This kicks off our spring time so you can come on down here and get anything from hot tub to a boat for the summertime. Those who attend the Bemidji JC's home sport and travel show each year are looking to replace those winter blues with some spring and summertime greens. Checking out all the new products ranging from docks to pontoons to lawnmowers and bicycles. For vendors the home sport and travel show is an opportunity to do more than showcase products. It's also an opportunity to educate and do one-on-one trainings with customers. It's both. We educate the public on how great these bikes are because it's good for their health to ride one and to own one. But we are here to sell equipment. We try to sell as much equipment as we can. For those who are showcasing docks and watercraft it's also a time to educate the public on the important issues such as aquatic invasive species. Our products can potentially be the ones that move that type of invasive species. So we're trying to educate the public of correctly doing it too. Trade shows like the home sport and travel show can be critical to a seasonal business. For some this annual show kicks off their entire spring and summer season. This show is the beginning of our season. Until this show starts we're not thinking about bicycles and renting boats. When we come here we make the mental shift. Our season starts now. We start sports shows all the way back in January but it seems like the home sport and travel show is our biggest show because it's so close to summer. One thing is certain that after a show that showcases some of the best things Minnesota has to offer, spring fever was definitely in the air. But this week's Northwoods Adventure in Bemidji, Josh Peterson, Lakeland News. If you've enjoyed this segment of Lakeland News please consider making a tax deductible contribution to Lakeland Public Television.


So, here we have a man looking at a wall in the blank white area and another man who by the way he was just washing his hands or rubbing his hands for some reason before he came into view now these two men are planning I think to write on this wall and here's my friend Rich. So suddenly my colleague Rich has appeared I can tell it's Rich even though we can only see his back he's fiddling about with his glasses and they're all preparing I think to draw or paint on a wall. I have no idea why. I think this might be where Rich does his research quite a lot of the time which is Chamba in India but they're really looking very carefully at this what looks like a huge sign that they're now even measuring and preparing to draw on but it's difficult to know what they're deliberating because they're all turned away from us and they're chatting about what they're going to do looking very serious this is obviously a very important task this thing with all the little details and measuring and I feel this is going to take a very long time they're not rushing they're taking those quite slowly oh my goodness okay this is a painter and I think he's painting me with green eyes which I like is that me in India it's it's just this crazy exuberant time with like election rallies people dancing music cars blaring with loudspeakers shouting slogans of the candidates the convoys of cars following the the candidates as they go to every single village to do a speech and it's just just this amazing sort of fascinating experience and I got right into that but I also got sort of bound up in it as well so things would happen like I was photographing an election rally it was one of the first rallies I'd photographed and I went to meet the the candidate a couple of days later and she asked if I would share some of the photos that I'd taken and I was very happy to do that and then two days later I start seeing some of those photos I had taken which were being used on campaign posters they were posted they were blown up to huge size and put on around the town there were there were stickers with this same picture on them and I was thinking that's my picture and I've you know I should have charged for this or if if you know that that helps them be elected you know am I to blame if I help them sort of create this image of themselves that they like so that was that was one of the slightly strange things it's really hard not to get sucked into these these whole processes because it is such a carnival before I'd done research on shepherds and I felt that I became much more of a shepherd than I ever did become a politician so I think politicians remain an alien tribe whereas tribal nomadic shepherds are much more familiar to me and I feel much more comfortable sometimes with them just hanging out with 400 sheep and goats on a hillside Fiji it's it's the way the world should be I think one of the one of the former popes said that about Fiji on a visit and it's a real tourist tagline right within Fiji it has been for decades politically it is so interesting because it's this microcosm of all the issues that as a political anthropologist and even as a person I'm interested in right about identity about terror the territory about sovereignty about access to rights and status and power and who belongs and I think actually all of my research has always been the nob of it has always been about who belongs and who gets to say who belongs and in what way and I think that stems very much from my experience growing up in like 1970s 80s London and seeing how that changed and and again over the years wondering am I am I a Londoner am I British but the the key challenge is not to not to bring your own biases to it and to try and understand where people are coming from so as I said Fiji's got a history of colonialism you know it's had this kind of manufactured multi-ethnic kind of condition imposed on it and it's that struggle between indigenous identity and immigrant identity but it's not immigrant in the way that I or others are in the west for example because that immigrant community in Fiji is a is a post indentured community so this is post slavery indenture and they have been living in Fiji for I think more than 120 years so there's a long lineage yeah so again that question of belonging at what point do you get to belong I'm a Londoner that's how I identify I have very little identity beyond being a Londoner and an immigrant working class woman Indian right academically I always feel like an interloper because I have this this triple whammy of being Indian immigrant second generation working class and a woman I shouldn't be here how did I get here even in practical ways if you want to go off and do do research you pay for something first and then you recover it in expenses so working class person I've not always had access to funds that allow me to do that I think it's it's a good point about being an Indian I'm seen as an English person I think that brings me a huge amount of privilege and access I can get into places and do things and ask questions that I wouldn't normally expect I could do and that was one of the big changes and one of the reasons I wanted to sort of study in my hometown and do research there was just to contrast that it's a mystery I don't know if they see me properly in a way I think I'm kind of invisible in my environment maybe not after this film but no what I mean I don't think much of them thought about doing research inside parliaments it's not something very common you know at least in Brazil and I think most countries I don't feel uncomfortable around them but I don't feel that I'm I'm part of that group I don't think I have the sort of the ability to to sort of stick to a fixed manifesto or set of beliefs you know and I I'm I think as an anthropologist I I tend to sort of listen to different points of view and see value in each of them I don't I don't sort of say okay that's me that's what I want to be I don't want to be in this club and all I'm going to do is is fight that corner and I I don't think I could do that I like moving between different clubs and listening to different positions and maybe finding common ground between them that that for me is more interesting I think I'd be really good as a spat I think I might you know a special advisor who is behind the scenes and is constantly trying to work out you know policy and and and and gossiping in a constructive way but with like you know between public government departments and I think that I think I'd be better at that power behind the throne or am I just letting myself off the hook it would be very frightening to to withstand the level of attacks that they do get especially on social media and your families get it as well so it would be yeah it would be hard and yeah it was so different 50 years ago 50 years ago sure you've got letters but now that onslaught of of really vile attacks is is is difficult to imagine no I've never thought of myself being a politician because I think I don't have the the qualities and the will of the vote in my life or something like that because I think it's a very hard job very very hard job I think they work a lot basically all the time they work a lot they are always thinking about their activity at least the ones I I know and I research and for women I think is it's even much more demanding in terms of the public exposure and the questions people ask you that they would never think of asking a man um no I don't really I don't want I've never thought about being a politician I remember there were three different MPs from three different political parties you know and there was you know posed for the camera and one of them photo bombed and I thought god that's so interesting that's not something that you're used to thinking or seeing when you think about politicians doing this really important political you know work that's so interesting and then I got a few a few little tidbits from from people about oh yes no these two MPs who go hammer and tong at each other in the chamber were actually you know discussing things about their children and their health and advice etc or just hanging out somebody once said to me no political party has anyone who agrees with more than about 40 percent of the policies but it's in a way it's depressing but in a way it's quite impressive those people are all managing to stay in coalition with each other even though they have a high level disagreement between each other because it's a team sport politics you know I really respect people who can stick with the team even though they really don't agree with quite a lot and they in a sense the way they see it is they're kind of repressing their individual whim is how they might describe it one person describes me so you know you're really trying to say no actually to make country work to make democracy work you have to just sort of you know go with the team and you pick the best leader you can and you're not necessarily going to agree with them but you can't just constantly undermine them because that's not how it's not going to work but I would find that difficult I'm quite rebellious I I find it very hard to sort of just go with a whole package dogmatic pattern you know pack an ideological ideological package I mean as guilty as everyone of distrusting the government here in the UK and politicians generally and I rail against you know things most of the time now unfortunately and so it's really difficult for me to think of them as humans there's so much emotion involved in living your own life within this political climate landscape with politicians trying to take away your rights and treating other people as less than human and you I don't know about but but I get so enraged and I think a lot of us do yeah in a way it's almost easier to be a bit more not dispassionate but a bit more distanced and find the human in the politician when it's someone else when it's over over there so I'd be really I mean I think it'd be great if Fiji and researchers try to study the UK parliament I'd love to know what they take away from that because I definitely think they'd open my eyes up to something I've not considered so maybe as a self described cynical realist I'm actually I have this kernel of hope and maybe that's what I just what I try to do as a researcher I try to find or think about finding the good it may not be abundant but it might just be there isn't that thrilling