CHAPTER XIX Jonathan Harker's Journal 1 October, 5 a.m. I went with the party to the search with an easy mind, for I think I never saw Minnesot absolutely strong and well. I am so glad that she consented to hold back and let us mend you the work. However, it was a dread to me that she was in this fearful business at all, but now that her work is done, and that it is due to her energy and brains in full sight that the whole story is put together in such a way that every point tells she may well feel that her part is finished and that she can henceforth leave the rest to us.  When we came away from his room we were silent till we got back to the study. Then Mr. Moore said to Dr. Seward, Say, Jack, if that man was an attempt in a bluff, he is about the sanest lunatic I ever saw. I am not sure, but I believe that he had some serious purpose, and if he had, it was pretty rough on him not to get a chance. Lord Godalming and I were silent. But Dr. Van Helsing added, Friend John, you know more of lunatics than I do, and I'm glad of it, for I fear that if it had been to me to decide I would before that last hysterical outburst have given him free. But we live and learn, and in our present task we must take no chance, as my friend Quincy would say, all is best as they are. Dr. Seward seemed to answer them both in a dreamy kind of way. I don't know but that I agree with you. If that man had been an ordinary lunatic I would have taken my chance of trusting him. But he seemed so mixed up with the count in an indexy kind of way that I am afraid of doing anything wrong by helping his fads. I can't forget how he prayed with almost equal fervour for a cat, and then tried to tear my throat out with his teeth. Besides he called the count Lord and Master, and he may want to get out to help him in some diabolical way. That horrid thing has the wolves and the rats and his own kind to help him, so I suppose he isn't above trying to use a respectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I only hope we have done what is best. These things in conjunction with the wild work we have in hand help to a nerver man. The professor stepped over and, laying his hand on his shoulder, said in his grave kindly way, Friend John, have no fear. We are trying to do our duty in a very sad and terrible case. We can only do as we deem best. What else have we to hope for except the pity of the good God? Lord Godoming had slipped away for a few minutes, but now he returned. He held up a little silver whistle, as he remarked. That old place may be full of rats, and if so, I've got an antidote on call. Having passed the wall we took our way to the house, taking care to keep in the shadows of the trees on the lawn when the moonlight shone out. When we got to the porch the professor opened his bag and took out a lot of things, which he had laid on the step, sorting them into four little groups, evidently one for each. Then he spoke, My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, and we need arms of mankind's. Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember that he has the strength of twenty men, and that our necks or our windpipes are of the common kind, and therefore breakable or crushable. His are not amenable to mere strength. A stronger man, or a body of man more strong in all than him, can at certain times hold him, but they cannot hurt him as we can be hurt by him. We must, therefore, guard ourselves from his touch. Keep this near your heart. As he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix, and held it out to me, eye being nearest to him. Put these flowers round your neck. Here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic blossoms, for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this knife, and for aid in all these so small electric lamps which you can fasten to your breast, and for all and above all at last this which we must not desecrate needless. This was a portion of sacred wafer which he put in an envelope and handed to me. Each of the others were similarly equipped. Now, he said, Friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so that we can open the door we need not breakhouse by the window, as before at Miss Lucy's. Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical dexterity as a surgeon, standing him in good stead. Presently he got one to suit. After a little playback and forward the bolt yielded, and, with a rusty clang, shot back. We pressed on the door. The rusty hinges creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like the image conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of Miss Westerner's tomb. I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike the others, for with one accord they shrank back. The Professor was the first to move forward, and stepped into the open door. In Manus Tuas Domine, he said, crossing himself as he passed over the threshold, we closed the door behind us, lest when we should have lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from the road. The Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to open it from within should we be in a hurry, making our exit. Then we all lit our lamps and proceeded on our search. The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as the rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies through great shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling that there was someone else amongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so powerfully brought home to me by the grim surroundings of that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think the feeling was common to us all, for I noticed that the others kept looking over their shoulders at every sound and every new shadow, just as I felt myself doing. The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches deep. Except where there were recent footsteps, in which, on holding down my lamp, I could see marks of hobnails where the dust was cracked. The walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the corners were masses of spider's webs whereon the dust had gathered till they looked like old tattered rags, as the weight had torn them partly down. On the table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with a time-yellowed label on each. They had been used several times, for on the table were several similar rents in the blankets of dust, similar to that exposed when the Professor lifted them. He turned to me and said, You know this place, Jonathan. You have copied maps of it, and you know it at least more than we do. Which is the way to the chapel? I had an idea of its direction, though, on my former visit, I had not been able to get admission to it, so I led the way and, after a few wrong turnings, found myself opposite a low-arched oaken door, ribbed with iron bands. This is the spot, said the Professor, as he turned his lamp on a small map of the house, copied from the file of my original correspondence regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we found the key on the bunch and opened the door. We were prepared for some unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door, a faint, malodorous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us ever expected such an odour as we encountered. None of the others had met the counter at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the fasting stage of his existence in rooms, or when he was gloated with fresh blood, in a ruined building open to the air, but here the place was small and close, and the long disuse had made the air stagnant and foul. There was an earthy smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the foul air. But as to the odour itself, how shall I describe it? It was not alone that it was composed of all the ills of mortality and with the pungent acrid smell of blood, but it seemed as though corruption had become itself corrupt. Fwoah! it sickens me to think of it. Every breath exhaled by that monster seemed to have clung to the place and intensified its loathesomeness. Under ordinary circumstances such a stench would have brought our enterprise to an end, but this was no ordinary case, and the high and terrible purpose in which we were involved gave us a strength which rose above merely physical considerations. After the involuntary shrinking consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we one and all said about our work as though that loathsome place were a garden of roses. We made an accurate examination of the place, the professor saying as we began. The first thing is to see how many of the boxes are left. We must then examine every hole and corner and cranny and see if we cannot get some clue as to what has become of the rest. A glance was sufficient to show how many remained, for the great earth chests were bulky and there was no mistaking them. There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty. Once I got afraid for seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of the vaulted door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and for an instant my heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, I seemed to see the highlights of the Count's evil face, the ridge of the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. It was only for a moment for as Lord Godalming said, I thought I saw a face, but it was only the shadows, and resumed his inquiry. I turned my lamp in the direction and stepped into the passage. There was no sign of anyone, and as there were no corners, no doors, no aperture of any kind, but only the solid walls of the passage there could be no hiding place even for him. I took it that fear had helped imagination and said nothing. A few minutes later I saw Morris step subtly back from a corner which he was examining. We all followed his movement with our eyes, fond doubly some nervousness was growing on us, and we saw a whole mass of phosphorescence which twinkled like stars. We all instinctively drew back, the whole place was becoming alive with rats. For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save Lord Godalming who was seemingly prepared for such an emergency. Rushing over to the great iron-bound Okan door which Dr. Seward had described from the outside and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in the lock, drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open. Then, taking his little silver whistle from his pocket, he blew a low shrill call. It was answered from behind Dr. Seward's house by the yelping of dogs, and after about a minute three terriers came dashing round the corner of the house. Unconsciously we had all moved towards the door, and as we moved I noticed that the dust had been much disturbed. The boxes which had been taken out had been brought this way. But even in the minute that had elapsed the number of rats had vastly increased. They seemed to swarm over the place all at once to the lamp-light shining on their moving dark bodies and glittering baleful eyes made the place look like a bank of earth set with fireflies. The dogs dashed on, but at the threshold suddenly stopped and snarled and then simultaneously lifting their noses began to howl in a most legubrious fashion. The rats were multiplying in thousands and we moved out. Lord Ugedomning lifted one of the dogs and carrying him in, placed him on the floor. The instant his feet touched the ground he seemed to recover his courage and rushed at his natural enemies. They fled before him so fast that before he had shaken the life out of a score the other dogs, who had by now been lifted in the same manner, had but small prey ere their whole mass had vanished. With their going it seemed as if some evil presence had departed, for the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they made sudden darts at their prostrate froes, and turned them over and over and tossed them in the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise, whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening of the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding ourselves in the open I know not, but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something of its grim significance, though we did not slacken a wit in our resolution. We closed the outer door, and barred and locked it, and bringing the dogs with us began our search of the house. We found nothing throughout except dust in extraordinary proportions, and all untouched save for my own footsteps when I had made my first visit. Never once did the dogs exhibit any symptom of uneasiness, and even when we returned to the chapel they frisked about as though they had been rabbit hunting in a summer wood. The morning was quickening in the east when we emerged from the front. Dr. Vern Helsing had taken the key of the whole door from the bunch, and locked the door in orthodox fashion, putting the key into his pocket when he had done. So far, he said, our night has been eminently successful. No harm has come to us such as I feared might be, and yet we have us attend how many boxes are missing. More than all do I rejoice that this, our first, and perhaps our most difficult and dangerous step has been accomplished without the bringing there into our most sweet madame Mina or troubling her waking or sleeping thoughts with sights and sounds and smells of horror which she might never forget. One lesson, too, we have learned, if it be allowable to argue our particularity, that the brute beasts which are to the Count's command are yet themselves not amenable to his spiritual power. For look, these rats that would come to his call, just as from his castle-top he summoned the wolves to your going, and to that poor mother's cry, though they come to him, they run pel-mel from the so little dogs of my friend Arthur. We have other matters before us, other dangers, other fears, and that monster. He has not used his power over the brute world for the only or the last time. He has not used his power over the brute world for the only or the last time to-night. So be it that he is gone elsewhere. Good! It has given us opportunity to cry, check, in some ways, in this chess-game, which we play for the stake of human souls. And now let us go home. The dawn is close at hand, and we have reason to be content with our first night's work. It may be ordained that we have many nights and days to follow, if full of peril, but we must go on, and from no danger shall we shrink. The house was silent when we got back, save for some poor creature who is screaming away in one of the distant wards, and a low moaning sound from Renfield's room. The poor wretch was doubtless torturing himself after the manner of the insane, with needless thoughts of pain. I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Mina asleep, breathing so softly that I had to put my ear down to hear it. She looks paler than usual. I hope the meeting to-night has not upset her. I am truly thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I did not think so at first, but I know better now. Therefore I am glad that it is settled. There may be things which would frighten her to hear, and yet to conceal them from her might be worse than to tell her if once she suspected that there was any concealment. Henceforth our work is to be a sealed book to her, till at least such time we can tell her that all is finished, and the earth free from a monster of the Netherworld. I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such confidence as ours. But I must be resolute, and tomorrow I shall keep dark over to-night's duings, and shall refuse to speak of anything that has happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to disturb her. Just October. Later. I suppose it was natural that we should have all overslept ourselves, for the day was a busy one, and the night had no rest at all. Even Mina must have felt his exhaustion, for though I slept till the sun was high, I was awake before her, and had to call two or three times before she awoke. Indeed she was so sound asleep that for a few seconds she did not recognise me, but looked at me with a sort of blank terror as one who has been waked out of a bad dream. She complained a little of being tired, and I let her rest till later in the day. We now know of twenty-one boxes having been removed, and if it be that several were taken in any of those removals we may be able to trace them all. Such will, of course, immensely simplify our labour, and the sooner the matter is attended to the better. I shall look up Thomas Snelling to-day. First October. It was towards noon when I was awakened by the professor walking into my room. He was more jolly and cheerful than usual, and it is quite evident that last night's work has helped to take some of the brooding weight off his mind. After going over the adventure of the night he suddenly said, Your patient interests me much. May it be that with you I visit him this morning? Or if that you are to occupy I can go alone if it may be. It is a new experience to me to find a lunatic who talk philosophy and reason so sound. I had some work to do which pressed, so I told him that if he would go alone I would be glad, as then I should not have to keep him waiting. So I called in a attendant and gave him the necessary instructions. Before the professor left the room I cautioned him against getting any false impression from my patient. But, he answered, I want him to talk of himself and his delusion as to consuming life things. He said to Madame Mina, as I see in your diary of yesterday, that he had once such a belief. Why do you smile, friend, John? Excuse me, I said, but the answer is here. I laid my hand on the typewritten matter. When Arsene and Leonard Lunatic made that very statement of how he used to consume life, his mouth was actually nauseous with the flies and spiders which he had eaten just before Mrs. Harker entered the room. Van Helsing smiled in turn. Good, he said, your memory is true, friend, John, I should have remembered. And yet it is this very obliquity of thought and memory which makes mental disease such a fascinating study. Perhaps I may gain more knowledge out of the fully of this madman than I shall from the teaching of the most wise. Who knows? I went on with my work, and before long was through that in hand. It seemed that the time had been very short indeed, but there was Van Helsing back in the study. Do I interrupt? He asked her lightly as he stood at the door. Not at all, I answered. Come in. My work is finished and I am free. I can go with you now, if you like. It is needless. I have seen him. Well, I fear that he does not appraise me at much. Our interview was short. When I entered his room he was sitting on a stool in the centre, with his elbows on his knees, and his face was the picture of sullen discontent. I spoke to him as cheerfully as I could, and with such a measure of respect as I could assume. He made no reply whatever. Don't you know me, I asked. His answer was not reassuring. I know you well enough.    Not a word more would he say, but sat in his implacable sullenness as indifferent to me as though I had not been in the room at all. Thus departed for a time my chance of much learning from this so clever lunatic. So I shall go, if I may, and cheer myself with a few happy words with that sweet soul, Madame Mina. Friend John, it does rejoice me unspeakable that she is no more to be pained, no more to be worried with our terrible things. Though we shall much miss her help, it is better so. I agree with you with all my heart, I answered earnestly, for I did not want him to weaken in this matter. Mrs. Harker is better out of it. Things are quite bad enough for us, all men of the world, and who have been in many tight places in our time. But it is no place for a woman, and if she had remained in touch with the affair it would in time infallibly have wrecked her. So Van Helsing has gone to confer with Mrs. Harker and Harker, Quincy and Art, are all out following up the clues as to the earth boxes. I shall finish my round of work, and we shall meet tonight. John Harker's Journal First October It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am today, after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years to see him manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of all. This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and though John was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never mentioned a word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's house, and yet he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow, I suppose it must have distressed him even more than it did me. They all agreed that it was best that I should not be drawn further into this awful work, and I acquiesced, but to think that he keeps anything from me, and now I am crying like a silly fool when I know it comes from my husband's great love, and from the good, good wishes of those other strong men. That has done me good. Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all, and lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read. I feel strangely sad and no-spirited today. I suppose it is the reaction from the terrible excitement. Last night I went to bed when the men had gone simply because they told me so. I didn't feel sleepy, and I did feel full of devouring anxiety. I kept thinking over everything that has been ever since Jonathan came to see me in London, and it all seems like a horrible tragedy with fate pressing on relentlessly to some destined end. Everything that one does seems, no matter how right it may be, to bring on the very thing which is most to be deplored. If I hadn't gone to Whitby, perhaps poor dear Lucy would be with us now. She hadn't taken to visiting the churchyard till I came, and if she hadn't come there in the day time with me she wouldn't have walked there in her sleep, and if she hadn't gone there at night in the sleep that monster couldn't have destroyed her as he did. Oh, why did I ever go to Whitby? They're now crying again. I wonder what has come over me to-day. I must hide it from Jonathan for if he knew that I'd been crying twice in one morning, I who never cried on my own account and whom he has never caused to shed a tear, the dear fellow would fret his heart out. I shall put a bold face on, and if I do feel weepy he shall never see it. I suppose it is one of the lessons that we poor women have to learn. I can't quite remember how I fell asleep last night. I remember hearing the sudden barking of the dogs, and a lot of queer sounds like, preying on the very tumultuous scale from Mr. Renfield's room, which is somewhere under this. And then there was silence over everything. Silence so profound that it startled me, and it got up and looked out of the window. All was dark and silent.  Not a thing seem to be stirring, but all to be grim and fixed as death or fate, so that a thin streak of white mist, that crept with almost imperceptible slowness across the grass towards the house, seem to have a sentience and a vitality of its own. I think that the discretion of my thoughts must have done me good, for when I got back to bed I found a lethargy creeping over me. I lay awhile, but could not quite sleep, so I got out and looked out of the window again. The mist was spreading, and was now close up to the house, so that I could see it lying thick against the wall, as though it were sealing up to the windows. The poor man was more loud than ever, and though I could not distinguish a word he said, I could in some way recognize his tone some passionate and treaty on his part. Then there was the sound of a struggle, and I knew that the attendants were dealing with him. I was so frightened that I crept into bed, and pulled the clothes over my head, putting my fingers in my ears. I was not then a bit sleepy, at least so I thought, but I must have fallen asleep, for, except my dreams, I do not remember anything until the morning, when Jonathan woke me. I think that it took me an effort and a little time to realize where I was, and that it was Jonathan who was bending over me. My dream was very peculiar, and was almost typical of the way that waking thoughts become merged in or continued in dreams. I thought that I was asleep, and waiting for Jonathan to come back. I was very anxious about him, and I was powerless to act. My feet and my hands and my brain were weighted, so that nothing could proceed at the usual pace. So I slept uneasily in thought. Then it began to dawn upon me that the air was heavy and dank and cold. I put back the clothes from my face and found, to my surprise, that all was dim around. The gaslight which I had left lit for Jonathan, but turned down, came only like a tiny red spark through the fog, which had evidently grown thicker and poured into the room.  I would have got out to make certain on the point, but some lead in lethargy seemed to chain my limbs and even my will. I lay still and endured. That was all. I closed my eyes, but could still see through my eyelids. It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play on us, and how conveniently we can imagine. The mist grew thicker and thicker, and I could see now how it came in, for I could see it like smoke, or with the white energy of boiling water, pouring in not through the window, but through the joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker till it seemed as if it became concentrated into a sort of pillar of cloud in the room, through the top of which I could see the light of the gas shining like a red eye. Things began to whirl through my brain just as the cloudy column was now whirling in the room, and through it all came the scriptural words, a pillar of cloud by day and a fire by night. Was it indeed some spiritual guidance that was coming to me in my sleep? But the pillar was composed of both the day and the night guiding for the fire was in the red eye, which at the thought got a new fascination for me, till as I looked the fire divided, and it seemed to shine on me through the fog like two red eyes, such as Lucy told me of in a momentary mental wandering when, on the cliff the dying sunlight struck the windows of St Mary's church. Suddenly the horror burst upon me that it was thus that Jonathan had seen those awful women growing into a reality through the whirling mist in the moonlight, and in my dream I must have fainted for all became black darkness. The last conscious effort which imagination made was to show me a livid wide face bending over me out of the mist. I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's reason if there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing or Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me sleep, only that I fear to alarm them such a dream at the present time would become roven into the fears for me. Tonight I shall strive hard to sleep naturally. If I do not I shall tomorrow night get them to give me a dose of chloral that cannot hurt me for once, and it will give me a good night's sleep. Last night tired me more than if I had not slept at all. 2 October 10 p.m. Last night I slept, but did not dream. I must have slept soundly, for I was not waked by Jonathan coming to bed, but the sleep has not refreshed me for today I feel terribly weak and spiritless. I spent all yesterday trying to read or lying down dosing, in the afternoon Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and bade God bless me. Someway it affected me much. I'm crying when I think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful. Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. He and the others were out till dinnertime, and they all came in tired. I did what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose that the effort did me good, for I forgot how tired I was. After dinner they sent me to bed, and all went off to smoke together, as they said, but I knew that they wanted to tell each other of what had occurred to each during the day. I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had something important to communicate. I was not so sleepy as I should have been, so before they went I asked Dr. Seward to give me a little opiate of some kind, as I had not slept well the night before. He very kindly made me up a sleeping draught, which he gave to me telling me that it would do me no harm, as it was very mild. I have taken it, and I'm waiting for sleep, which still keeps aloof. I hope I have not done wrong, for as sleeps begin to flirt with me, a new fear comes, that I may have been foolish and thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I might want it. Here come sleep. Good night. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Corinne LePage. Chapter 20 Jonathan Harker's Journal 1 October evening I found Thomas Knelling in his house at Bethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember anything. The very prospective beer, which my expected coming had opened to him, had proved too much, and he had begun too early on his expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed a decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant to Smollett, who, of the two mates, was the responsible person. So off I drove to Walworth, and found Mr. Joseph Smollett, at home, and in his shirt sleeves, taking a late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent, intelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable type of workman, with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about the incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog's-eared notebook, which he produced from some mysterious receptacle about the seat of his trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries in the thick, half-obliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the boxes. There were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from Carfax, and left at 197 Chick Sand Street, Mile End, Newtown, and another six, which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Beaumontsee. If then the Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London, these places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he might distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this was done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to two sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east of the northern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the south. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out of his diabolical scheme. Let alone, the city itself and the very heart of fashionable London in the south west and west. I went back to Smollett and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had been taken from Carfax. He replied, Well, Governor, you've treated me weary and some. I had given him half a sovereign, and I tell you all I know, I heard a man, by the name of Bloxham, say, four nights ago, in the air and ounce in Penture's alley, as our yen is made at a rare dusty job in an all-house imperfect. There aren't many as such jobs as this here, and I'm thinking that there may be some Bloxham could tell you somewhat. I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that if he could get me the address, it would be worth another half-sovereign to him. So he got down the rest of his tea and stood up, saying that he was going to begin the such done and there. At the door he stopped and said, Look here, Governor, there ain't no sense in me keeping you here. I may find Sam soon or I may ain't, but anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell you much tonight. Sam is a rare one when he starts from the booze. If you can give me an envelope with a stamp on it and put your address on it, I'll find out where Sam is to be found and posted to you tonight, but you'd better be up after I'm soon in the morning. Or maybe you won't catch him. Four, Sam gets off of me in early. Never mind the booze the night of four. This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a penny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the change. When she came back I addressed the envelope and stamped it, and when Smollett had again faithfully promised to post the address when found, I took my way home. We're on the track anyhow. I am tired tonight and want to sleep. Mina is fast asleep and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she had been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt it frets her to be kept in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and the others. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed and worried in such a way than to have her nerve broken. The doctors were quite right to insist on her being kept out of this dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with her under any circumstances. Indeed, it may not be a hard task after all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, and has not spoken of the count or his doing ever since we told of our decision. 2 October evening. A long and trying and exciting day. By the first post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed, on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a sprawling hand, Sam Bloxham, Cochran's, 4, Potter's Court, Bartle Street, Woolworth. Ask for the depite. I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked heavy and sleepy and pale and far from well. I determined not to wake her but that, when I should return from this new search, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she would be happy in her own home, with her daily tasks to interest her than being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr. Seward for a moment and told him where I was off to, promising to come back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out anything. I drove to Woolworth and found with some difficulty Potter's Court. Mr. Smollett's spelling misled me as I asked for Potter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when I had found the Court, I had no difficulty in discovering Cochran's lodging-house. When I asked the man who came to the door for the depite, he shook his head and said, I'd know him. There ain't no such a person here. I never heard of him in all my blooming days. Don't believe there ain't nobody of that kind living here or anywhere's. I took out Smollett's letter and, as I read it, seemed to me that the lesson of the spelling of the name of the Court might guide me. What are you, I asked? I'm the deputy, he answered. I sought once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling had again misled me. A half-crowned tip put the depite's knowledge at my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxham, who had slept off the remains of his beer on the previous night at Cochran's, had left for his work at Poplar five o'clock that morning. He could not tell me where the place of work was situated, but he had a vague idea that it was some kind of a new-fangled warehouse, and with this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock before I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I got at a coffee-shop where some workmen were having the dinner. One of these suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel Street a new cold-storage building, and as this suited the condition of a new-fangled warehouse, I at once drove to it. An interview with a surly gatekeeper and a surly foreman, both of whom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the track of Bloxham. He was sent for on my suggesting that I was willing to pay his day's wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a few questions on a private matter. He was a smart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised to pay for his information, given him an earnest, he told me that he had made two journeys between car facts and a house in Piccadilly, and had taken from his house to the latter nine great boxes, main heavy ones, with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose. I asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in Piccadilly, to which he replied. Well, Governor, I forget the number, but it was only a few doors from a big white church or something of that kind, but it was only a few doors down from a big white church or something of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old house, too, though nothing to the dustiness of the house we took the Bloomin' boxes from. How did you get into the houses if they were both empty? There was the old party what engaged me awaiting in the house at Perfleet. He helped me to lift the boxes and put them in the dry. Cursed me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, and him an old feller, with a white mustache. Won that thing you think he couldn't throw a shatter? How this phrase thrilled through me. Why, he took up his end of the boxes like there was pounds of tape, and me a puffin' and a blower before I could upend mine anyhow, and I'm no chicken, neither. How did you get into the house in Piccadilly? I asked. He was there, too. He must have started off and got there for me, for when I rung of the bell he came and opened the door itself and helped me to carry the boxes into the hall. The whole nine, I asked. Yes, there was five in the first load and four in the second. It was main dry work, and I don't so well remember how I got home. I interrupted him. Were the boxes left in the hall? Yes, it was a big hole and there was nothing else in it. I made one more attempt to further matters. He didn't have any key. Never used no key nor nothing.  Don't remember the last time, but that was the beer. And you can't remember the number of the house. No, sir, but she needn't have no difficulty about that. It's an iron with a stone front with a bow on it, and I steps up to the door. I know them steps I haven't had to carry the boxes up with three loafers what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give them shillings, and they see and they got so much they wanted more, but he took one of them by the shoulder and was like to throw him down the steps till the lot of them went away cursing. I thought that with this description I could find the house, so, having paid my friend for his information, I started off for Piccadilly. I'd gained a new painful experience. The count could, it was evident, handle the earth boxes himself. If so, time was precious. For, now that he had achieved a certain amount of distribution, he could, by choosing his own time, complete the task unobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cap and walked westward, beyond the junior constitutional I came across the house described, and was satisfied that this was the next of the layers arranged by Dracula. The house looked as though it had been long and tenanted. The windows were encrusted with dust, and the shutters were up. All the framework was black with time, and from the iron the paint had mostly scaled away. It was evident that, up to lately, there had been a large notice board in front of the balcony. It had, however, then roughly torn away. The uprights which had supported it still remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw that there were some loose boards, whose raw edges looked white. I would have given a good deal to have been able to see the notice board intact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to the ownership of the house. I remembered my experience of the investigation and purchase of car-fax, and I could not but feel that if I could find the former owner, there might be some means discovered of gaining access to the house. There was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly side, and nothing could be done, so I went round to the back to see if anything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were active, the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked one or two of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they could tell me anything about the empty house. One of them said that he heard it had lately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom. He told me, however, that, up to very lately, there had been a notice board of Fosalop, and that perhaps Mitchell Sons and Candy, the house agents, could tell me something, as he thought he remembered seeing the name of that firm on the board. I did not wish to seem too eager, or to let my informant know a guest too much, so thanking him in the usual manner, I strolled away. It was now growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, so I did not lose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell Sons and Candy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office in Sackville Street. The gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but uncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me that the Piccadilly house, which throughout our interview he called a mansion, was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When I asked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider and paused for a few seconds before replying. It is sold, sir. Pardon me, I said, with equal politeness, but I have a special reason for wishing to know who purchased it. Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. It is sold, sir. Was again his laconic reply. Surely, I said, you do not mind letting me know so much? But I do mind, he answered, the affairs of their clients are absolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell Sons and Candy. This was manifestly a preke of the first water, and there was no use arguing with him. I thought I had best meet him on his own ground, so I said, Your clients, sir, are happy in having so resolute a guardian of their confidence. I am myself a professional man. Here I handed him my card. In this instant I am not prompted by curiosity. I act on the part of Lord Godomming, who wishes to know something of the property which was, he understood, lately, for sale. These words put a different complexion on affairs. He said, I would like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially would like to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small matter of renting some chambers for him when he was the honourable Arthur Hormwood. If you will let me have his lordship's address, I will consult the house on the subject, and will, in any case, communicate with his lordship by tonight's post. It will be a pleasure if we can so far deviate from our rules as to give the required information to his lordship. I wanted to secure a friend, and not make an enemy, so I thanked him, gave the address at Dr. Seward's, and came away. It was now dark, and I was tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the aerated bread company, and came down to her fleet by the next train. I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale, but she made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful. It wrung my heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her, and so caused her in quietitude. Thank God this will be the last thing of her looking on our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not showing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise resolution of keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow more reconciled, or else the very subject seems to have become repugnant to her, for when any accidental illusion is made, she actually shudders. I am glad we made our resolution in time, as with such a feeling as this, our growing knowledge would be tortured to her. I could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were alone, so after dinner, followed by little music to save appearances even amongst ourselves, I took Mina to her room, and left her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me, but there was much to be talked of, and I came away. Thank God the ceasing of telling things has made no difference between us. When I came down again, I found the others all gathered round the fire in the study. In the train I had ridden my diary so far, and simply read it off to them as the best means of letting them get a breast of my own information. When I had finished, Van Helsing said, This has been a great day's work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of the missing boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is near the end. But if there be some missing, we must search till we find them. Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretched to his real death. We all sat silent a while, and all at once Mr. Morrow spoke. Say, how are we going to get into that house? We quote into the other, answered Lord Godalming quickly. But Art, this is different. We broke house in Carfax, but we had night, and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty different thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or night. I confess I don't see how we are going to get in unless that agency duck can find us a key of some sort. Perhaps we shall know when you get his letter in the morning. Lord Godalming's brows contracted, and he stood up and walked about the room. By and by he stopped and said, turning from one to the other of us. Quincy's head is level, his burglary business is getting serious. We got off once all right, but we have now a rare job on hand, unless we can find the Count's key basket. As nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be at least advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from Mitchell's, we decided not to take any active step before breakfast time, for a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in its various lights and bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing this diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to bed. Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular. Her forehead is puckered up until little wrinkles as though she thinks even in her sleep. She's still too pale, but it does not look so high good as she did this morning. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all this. She will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I'm sleepy. After Seward's Diary One October. I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods changed so rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as they always mean something more than his own well-being, they form more than an interesting study. This morning when I went to see him after his repulsive then-housing, his manner was that of a man commanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny, subjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of mere earth. He was in the clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor mortals. I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I asked him, what about the flies these times?  The fly, my dear sir, has one striking feature. Its wings are typical of the aerial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did well when they typified the soul as a butterfly. I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I said quickly, Oh! it is a soul you are after now, is it?  Oh! no! I want no souls! Life is all I want. Here he brightened up. I am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life is all right. I have all I want. You must get a new patient doctor, if you wish to study zooophagy. This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on.   He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. Oh! no! Far be it from me to arrogate myself the attributes of a deity. I am not even concerned in his especially spiritual doings, if I may state my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things purely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied spiritually. This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch's oppositeness, so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that by so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic. And why with Enoch? Because he walked with God. I could not see the analogy but did not like to admit it, so I harked back to what he had denied. So you don't care about life and you don't want souls, why not? I put my question quickly and somewhat sternly, unpurposed to disconcert him. The effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into his old servile manner. Bent low over me and actually fond upon me as he replied, I don't want any soul, then indeed, indeed I don't. I couldn't use them if I had them. There would be no manner of use to me. I couldn't eat them, or...  What is it after all? When you've got all you require and you know that you will never want, that is all. I have friends, good friends, like you, Dr. Seward. This was said with a layer of inexpressible cunning. I know that I shall never lack the means of life. I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some antagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of such as he, a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the present it was useless to speak with him. He was sulky, and so I came away. Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have come without special reason, but just at present I am so interested in him that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to have anything to help to pass the time. Harker's out, following up clues, and so are Lord Godolmy and Quincy. Then Helsing sits in my study pouring over the record prepared by the Harkers. He seems to think that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light upon some clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work without cause. I would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I thought that after his last repulse he might not care to go again. There was also another reason. Renfield might not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I were alone. I found him sitting out in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When I came in he said at once as though the question had been waiting on his lips. What about souls? It was evident that my surmise had been correct. Unconscious celebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic. I determined to have the matter out. What about them yourself? I asked. He did not reply for a moment but looked all round him and up and down as though he expected to find some inspiration for an other. I don't want any souls, he said in a feeble apologetic way. The matter seemed preying on his mind and so I determined to use it.  Oh yes, but that is all right, you needn't worry about that. But, I said, how are we to get the life without getting the soul also? This seemed to puzzle him so I followed it up. A nice time you'll have some time when you're flying out there, with the souls of a thousand flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and twittering and meowing all round you.   There was something pathetic in it that touched me. It also gave me a lesson, for it seemed that before me was a child. Only a child, though the features were worn and the stubble in the jaws was white. It was evident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance, and, knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly foreign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well as I could and go with him. The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him, speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed ears. Would you like some sugar to get your flies round again? He seemed to wake up all at once and shook his head. With a laugh he replied, Not much. Flies are poor things, after all. After a pause he added, But I don't want their souls buzzing round me all the same. Or spiders, I went on. Blow spiders! What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything in them to eat, or he stopped suddenly as though reminded of a forbidden topic. So, so, I thought to myself, this is the second time he has suddenly stopped at the word drink. What does it mean? Renfeld seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he hurried on as though to distract my attention from it. I don't take any stock at all in such matters. Ratzen, mice and such small deer, as Shakespeare has it, chicken-feet of the larder they might be called, and past all that sort of nonsense. You might as well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to try to interest me about the lesser carnivora, when I know what is before me. I see, I said. You want big things that you can make your teeth meet in. How would you like to breakfast on elephant?  He was getting too wide awake, so I thought I would press him hard. I wonder, I said reflectively, what an elephant's soul is like. The effect I desired was obtained, for yet once fell from his high horse and became a child again. I don't want an elephant's soul or any soul at all, he said, for a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet with his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement.  Haven't I got enough to worry and pain and distract me already, without thinking of souls? He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle. The instant, however, that I did so he became calm and said apologetically, Forgive me, doctor. I forgot myself. You do not need any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face and that I am working out, you would pity and tolerate and pardon me. Pray do not put me in a straight waistcoat. I want to think, and I cannot think freely, when my body is confined. I am sure you will understand. He had evidently self-control, so when the attendance came I told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go, when the door was closed he said, With considerable dignity and sweetness. Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me. Believe me that I am very, very grateful to you. I thought it well to leave him in his mood, and so I came away. There are certainly something to ponder over this man's state. Several points seem to make that the American interviewer calls a story, if one could only get them in proper order. Here they are. We'll not mention drinking. Fears the thought of being burdened with the soul of anything. Has no dread of wanting life in the future. Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads being haunted by their souls. Logically all these things point one way.  He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Then it is a human life he looks to. And the assurance? Merciful God! The count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of tower of foot. Later. I went after my round to DeVan Helsing and told him of my suspicion. He grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over for a while, asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so, and as we came to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the time which now seemed so long ago. When we entered, we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar as of old. The flies, lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present. He had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebook.  He is a curious case indeed. We must watch him to-night. Letter Mitchell Sons and Candy to Lord Goodalming First October My Lord, we are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg with regard to the desire of your lordship expressed by Mr. Harker on your behalf to supply the following information concerning the sale and purchase of Number 347 Piccadilly The original vendors are the executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter Suffield. The purchaser is a former nobleman. Count Deville, who affected the purchase himself, paying the purchase money in notes over the counter if your lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an expression, beyond this we know nothing whatever of him. We are, my lord, your lordship's humble servants, Mitchell's sons, and Candy. Second October A place to man in the corridor last night and told him to make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from Renfield's room, and gave him instructions that if there should be anything strange he was to call me. When we had all gathered round the fire in the study, Mr. Harker, having gone to bed, we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker was the only one who had any result, and we are in great hope that his clue may be an important one. Before going to bed I went round to the patient's room and looked in through the observation-trap. He was sleeping soundly, and his heart rose and fell with regular respiration. This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after midnight he was restless, and kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. I asked him if that was all. He replied that it was all he heard. There was something about his manner so suspicious that I asked him, point blank, if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted to having dozed for a while. It is too bad that men cannot be trusted unless they are watched. Today Harker is following up his clue, and Art and Quincy are looking after horses. Gudolming thinks that it will be well to have horses always in readiness, for when we get the information we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilize all the imported earth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catch the count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. The old physicians took a count of things which their followers do not accept, and the professor is searching for a witch and demon cures which may be useful to us later. I sometimes think we must be all mad, and that we shall wake to sanity in straight waistcoats. Later. We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track, and our work of tomorrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder if Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so followed the doings of the count that the coming destruction of the monster may be carried to him in some subtle way. If we could only get some hint as to what passed in his mind between the time of my argument with him today and his resumption of fly-catching, it might afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell. Is he—that wild yell seemed to come from his room? The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had somehow met with some accident.  I must go at once. CHAPTER XXI. Dr. Seward's Diary. 3 October. Let me put down, with exactness, all that happened, as well as I can remember it, since, last I made an entry, not a detail that I can recall must be forgotten. In all calmness I must proceed. When I came to Renfield's room I found him lying on the floor in his left side in a glittering pool of blood. When I went to move him, it became at once apparent that he had received some terrible injuries. There seemed none of that unity of purpose between the parts of the body which marks even lethargic sanity. As the face was exposed I could see that it was horribly bruised, as though it had been beaten against the floor. Indeed it was from the face wounds that the pool of blood originated. The attendant who was kneeling beside the body said to me as we turned him over. I think, sir, his back is broken. See both his right arm and leg and the whole side of his face are paralysed. How such a thing could have happened buzzled the attendant beyond measure. He seemed quite bewildered and his brows were gathered in, as he said. I can't understand the two things. He could mark his face like that by beating his own head on the floor. I saw a young woman do it once at the Eversfield Asylum before anyone could lay hands on her. And I suppose he might have broke his neck by falling out of bed if he got in an awkward kink. But for the life of me I can't imagine how the two things occurred. If his back was broke he couldn't beat his head and if his face was like that before the fall out of bed there would be marks of it. I said to him, go to Dr. Van Helsingham and ask him kindly to come near at once. I want him without an instance to lay. The man ran off and within a few minutes the professor in his dressing gown and slippers appeared. When he saw Renfield on the ground he looked keenly at him a moment and then turned to me. I think he recognized my thought in my eyes, for he said very quietly manifestly for the ears of the attendant. Ah! a sad accident! He will need very careful watching and much attention. I shall stay with you myself but I shall first dress myself. If you will remain I shall in a few minutes join you. The patient was now breathing sterturously and it was easy to see that he had suffered some terrible injury. Van Helsing returned with extraordinary celerity bearing with him a surgical case. He had evidently been thinking and had his mind made up for almost before he looked at the patient he whispered to me, send the attendant away. We must be alone with him when he becomes conscious after the operation. So I said, I think that will do now, Simmons. We have done all that we can at present. You had better go your round and Dr. Van Helsing will operate. Let me know instantly if there be anything unusual anywhere. The man withdrew and we went into a strict examination of the patient. The wounds of the face were superficial. The real injury was a depressed fracture of the skull extending right up through the motor area. The professor thought a moment and said, we must reduce the pressure and get back to normal conditions as far as can be. The rapidity of the suffusion shows the terrible nature of his injury. The whole motor area seems affected. The sufficient of the brain will increase quickly, so we must trafine at once or it may be too late. As he was speaking there was a soft tapping at the door. I went over and opened it and found in the corridor without Arthur and Quincy and pajamas and slippers. The former spoke. I heard your man call up Dr. Van Helsing and tell him of an accident, so I worked Quincy or rather called for him as he was not asleep. Things are moving too quickly and too strangely for sound sleep for any of us these times. I've been thinking that tomorrow night we'll not see things as they have been. We'll have to look back and forward a little more than we have done. May we come in? I nodded and held the door up until they had entered, then I closed it again. When Quincy saw the attitude in state of the patient and noted the horrible pool on the floor he said softly, My God! What has happened to him? Poor, poor devil. I told him briefly and added that we expected he would recover consciousness after the operation for a short time at all events. He went at once and sat down on the edge of the bed with Godalming beside him. We all watched in patience. We shall wait, said Van Helsing, just long enough to fix the best spot for trafining, so that we may most quickly and perfectly remove the blood clot for it is evident that the hammerage is increasing. The minutes during which we waited passed with fearful slowness. I had a horrible sinking in my heart, and from Van Helsing's face I gathered that he felt some fear or apprehension as to what was to come. I dreaded the words that Renfield might speak. I was positively afraid to think, but the conviction of what was coming was on me, as I have read of men who have heard the death-watch. The poor man's breathing came in uncertain gasps. Each instant he seemed as though he would open his eyes and speak, and then would follow a prolonged, sturtuous breath, and he would relapse into a more fixed insensibility.  The silence finally became agonizing. I looked at my companions one after another, and saw from their flushed faces and damp brows that they were enduring equal torture. There was a nervous suspense over us all, as though overhead some dread-bell would peel out powerfully when we should least expect it. At last there came a time when it was evident that the patient was sinking fast. He might die at any moment. I looked up at the professor and caught his eyes fixed on mine. His face was sternly set as he spoke. There is no time to lose. His words may be worth many lives. I have been thinking so as I stood here. It may be that there is a soul at stake. We shall operate just above the ear. Without another word he made the operation. For few moments the breathing continued to be stursuous. Then there came a breath so prolonged that it seemed as though it would tear open his chest. Suddenly his eyes opened and became fixed in a wild, helpless stare. This was continued for a few moments. Then it softened into a glad surprise, and from the lips came a sigh of relief. He moved convulsively, and as he did so said, I'll be quiet, doctor. Tell them to take off the straight waist coat. I had a terrible dream, and it has left me so weak that I cannot move. What's wrong with my face? It feels all swollen and it smarts dreadfully. He tried to turn his head, but even with the effort his eyes seemed to grow glassy again so I gently put it back. Then Van Helsing said in a quiet grave tone, Tell us your dream, Mr. Renfield. As he heard the voice his face brightened. Through its mutilation he said, That is doctor Van Helsing. How good it is of you to be here. Give me some water. My lips are dry and I shall try to tell you. I dreamed. He stopped and seemed fainting. I called quietly to Quincy. The brandy, it is in my study quick. He flew and returned with a glass, the decanter brandy and a carafe of water. We moistened the parched lips, and the patient quickly revived. It seemed, however, that his poor injured brain had been working in the interval, for when he was quite conscious he looked at me piercingly with an agonised confusion, which I shall never forget and said, I must not deceive myself. It was no dream, but all a grim reality. Then his eyes roved around the room as they caught sight of the two figures sitting patiently on the edge of the bed he went on. If I were not sure already, I would know from them. For an instant his eyes closed, not with pain or sleep, but voluntarily, as though he were bringing all his faculties to bear. When he opened them he said hurriedly and with more energy than he had yet displayed. Quick, Doctor, quick! I am dying! I feel that I have but a few minutes, and then I must go back to death. Or worse, wet my lips with brandy again. I have something I must say before I die, or before my poor crushed brain dies anyhow. Thank you! It was that night after you left me when I implored you to let me go away. I couldn't speak then, for I felt my tongue was tired, but I was as sane then, except in that way as I am now. I was in an agony of despair for a long time after you left me. It seemed hours, then there came a sudden peace to me. My brain seemed to become cool again, and I realized where I was. I heard the dogs bark behind our house, but not where he was. As he spoke Van Helsing's eyes never blinked, but his hand came out and met mine and gripped it hard. He did not, however, betray himself. He nodded slightly and said, Go on, in a low voice. Renfield proceeded. He came up to the window in the mist, as I had seen him often before, but he was solid then.  He was laughing with his red mouth, the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he turned to look back over the belt of trees to where the dogs were barking. I wouldn't ask him to come in at first, though I knew he wanted to, just as he had wanted all along. Then he began promising me things, not in words, but by doing them. He was interrupted by a word from the Professor. How?  Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously. The acarontia etetropos of the sphinges, what you call death's head moth. The patient went on without stopping. Then he began to whisper, rats, rats, rats, hundreds, thousands, millions of them, and every one a life, and dogs to eat them in cats too, all lives, all red blood, with years of life in it, and not merely buzzing flies. I laughed at him, for I wanted to see what he could do. Then the dogs howled away beyond the dark trees in his house. He beckoned me to the window. I got up and looked out, and he raised his hands, and seemed to call out without using any words. A dark mass spread over the grass, coming on like the shape of a flame on fire, and then he moved the mist to the right and left, and I could see that there were thousands of rats with their eyes blazing red, like his, only smaller. He held up his hand, and they all stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, all these lives I will give you, I, and many more, and greater, through countless ages, if you will fall down and worship me. And then a red cloud, like the colour of blood, seemed to close over my eyes, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself opening the sash and saying to him, Come in, Lord and Master, the rats were gone, but he slid into the room through the sash, though it was only open an inch wide, just as the moon herself has often come in through the tiniest crack, and stood before me in all her sighs and splendour. His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lip with the brandy again, and he continued, but it seemed as though his memory had gone on working in the interval for his story was further advanced. I was about to call him back to the point, but Van Helsing whispered to me, Let him go on, do not interrupt him. He cannot go back, and maybe could not proceed at all if he lost the thread of his thought. He proceeded. All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not send me anything, not even a blow-fly, and when the moon got up I was pretty angry with him. When he slid in through the window, though it was shut, and did not even knock, I got mad with him. He sneered at me, and his white face looked out of the mist with his red eyes gleaming, and he went on as though he owned the whole place, and I was no one. He didn't even smell the same as he went by me. I couldn't hold him. I thought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker had come into the room. The two men sitting on the bed stood up and came over, standing behind him so that he could not see them, but where they could hear better. They were both silent, but the professor started and quivered. His face, however, gregrima and sterner still. Renfield went on without noticing. When Mrs. Harker came in to see me this afternoon, she wasn't the same. It was like tea after the teapot had been watered. Here we all moved, but no one said a word. He went on. I didn't know that she was here till she spoke, and she didn't look the same. I don't care for the pair of people. I liked them with lots of blood in them, and hers had all seemed to have run out. I didn't think of it at the time, but when she went away I began to think, and it made me mad to know that he had been taking the life out of her. I could feel that the rest quivered as I did, but we remained otherwise still. So when he came to-night I was ready for him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I grabbed it tight. I had heard that madmen have unnatural strength, and as I knew I was a madman, times anyhow, I resolved to use my power. I, and he felt it too, for he had come out of the mist to struggle with me. I held tight, and I thought I was going to win, for I didn't mean him to take any more of her life till I saw his eyes. They burned into me, and my strength became like water. He slipped through it, and when I tried to cling to him, he raised me up and flung me down. There was a red cloud before me, and a noise like thunder, and the mist seemed to steal away under the door. There was a red cloud before me, and a noise like thunder, and the mist seemed to steal away under the door. His voice was becoming fainter, and his breath more sturturous. Van Helsing stood up instinctively. We know the worst now, he said. He is here, and we know his purpose. It may not be too late. Let us be armed, the same as we were the other night, but to lose no time. There is not an instant to spare. There is no need to put our fear, nay, our conviction into words. We shared them in common. We all hurried and took from our rooms the same things that we had when we entered the Count's house. The Professor had his ready, and as we met in the corridor he pointed to them significantly as he said, They never leave me. They shall not until this unhappy business is over. Be wise also, my friends. This is no common enemy that we deal with. Alas! Alas! that dear Madame Mina should suffer! He stopped. His voice was breaking, and I do not know if rage or terror predominated in my own heart. Outside the Harker's door we paused. Art and Quincy held back, and the latter said, Should we disturb her? We must, said Van Helsing grimly. If the door be locked I shall break it in. May it not frighten her terribly. It is unusual to break into a lady's room. Van Helsing said solemnly, You are always right, but this is life and death. All chambers are alike to the Doctor, and even were they not, they are all as one to me to-night. Friend John, when I turn the handle, if the door does not open, do you put your shoulder down and shove, and you too, my friends. Now! He turned the handle as he spoke, but the door did not yield. We threw ourselves against it. The crash it burst open, and we almost fell headlong into the room. The Professor did actually fall, and I saw across him as he gathered himself up from hands and knees. What I saw appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on the back of my neck, and my heart seemed to stand still.  On the bed beside the window lay Jonathan Harker, his face flushed and breathing heavily as though in a stupor. Kneeling on the near edge of the bed facing outwards was the white-clad figure of his wife. By her side stood a tall, thin man clad in black. His face was turned from us, but the instant we saw we all recognized the count. In every way, even to the scar on his forehead, with his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension. His right gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white night dress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare breast, which was shown by his torn open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child, forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink. As we burst into the room, the count turned his face, and the hellish look that I had heard described seemed to leap into it. His eyes flamed red with devilish passion. The great nostrils of the white aquiline nose opened wide and quivered at the edge, and the white sharp teeth, behind the full lips of the blood-dripping mouth, champed together like those of a wild beast. With a wrench he threw his victim back upon the bed as though hurled from a height. He turned and sprung at us. But by this time the professor had gained his feet and was holding towards him the envelope which contained the sacred wafer. The count suddenly stopped, just as Paul Lucy had done outside of the tomb, and cowered back. Further and further back he cowered as we, lifting our crucifixes, advanced. The moonlight suddenly failed, as a great black cloud sailed across the sky, and when the gaslight sprang up under Quincy's match, he saw nothing but a faint vapour. This, as we looked, trailed under the door, which, with the recoil from its bursting open, had swung back to its old position. Van Helsing, Art and I, moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath, and with it had given a scream so wild, so ear-pissing, so despairing, that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears to my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude in disarray.  From her throat trickled a thin stream of blood, her eyes were mad with terror, and she put before her face her poor, crushed hands which bore on their whiteness the red mark of the count's terrible grip, and from behind them came the low desolate well which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an endless grief. Van Helsing stepped forward and drew the coverlet gently over her body, whilst Art, after looking at her face for an instant, despairingly, ran out of the room. Van Helsing whispered to me, Donathan isn't a stupor such as we know the vampire can produce. We can do nothing with poor Madame Mina for a few moments till she recovers herself. I must wake him. He dipped the end of a towel in cold water and with it began to flick him on the face, his wife all the while holding her face between her hands and sobbing in a way that was heartbreaking to hear. I raised the blind and looked out of the window. There was much moonshine, and as I looked I could see Quincy Morris run across the lawn and hide himself in the shadow of a great yew-tree. It puzzled me to think why he was doing this, but at the instant I heard Harker's quick exclamation as he woke to partial consciousness and turned to the bed. On his face, as there might well be, was a look of wild amazement. He seemed dazed for a few seconds, then full consciousness seemed to burst upon him all at once and he started up. His wife was aroused by the quick movement and turned to him with her arms stretched out as though to embrace him. Instantly however she drew them in again and putting her elbows together held her hands before her face and shuddered till the bed beneath her shook. In God's name what does this mean? Harker cried out. Dr. Seward, Dr. Van Helsing, what is it? What has happened? What is wrong? Mean and dear, what is it? What does that blood mean? My God! My God! Has it come to this? And raising himself to his knees, he beat his hands wildly together. Good God, help us! Help her! Oh, help her! With a quick movement he jumped from the bed and began to pull on his clothes. All the man in him awake at the need for instant exertion. What has happened? Tell me all about it? He cried without pausing. Dr. Van Helsing, you love Meena, I know. Oh, do something to save her. It cannot have gone too far yet. God, how I look for him. His wife, through her tear and horror and distress, saw some sure danger to him, instantly forgetting her own grief. She seized hold of him and cried out. No! No, Jonathan, you must not leave me. I have suffered enough tonight. God knows without the dread of his harming you. You must stay with me. Stay with these friends who will watch over you. Her expression became frantic as she spoke, and he yielding to her. She pulled him down sitting on the bedside and clung to him fiercely. Van Helsing and I tried to calm them both. The Professor held up his little golden crucifix and said with wonderful calmness, Do not fear, my dear. We are here, and whilst this is close to you, no foul thing can approach. You are safe for tonight, and we must become and take counsel together.  When she raised it, his white night-robe was stained with blood where her lips had touched, and where the thin, open wound in her neck had sent forth drops. The instant she saw it, she drew back, with a low wail and whispered amidst choking sobs. Unclean! Unclean! I must hurt him or kiss him no more. Oh, that it should be that it is I, who am now his worst enemy, and whom he may have the most cause to fear! To this he spoke out resolutely. Nonsense, Mina! It is a shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you, and I shall not hear it from you. May God judge me by my desserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine, anything ever come between us! He put out his arms and folded her to his breast, and for a while she lay there sobbing. He looked at us over her bowed head, with eyes that blinked damply above his quivering nostrils. His mouth was set as steel, after a while her sobs became less frequent and more faint, and then he said to me, speaking with a studied calmness, which I felt tried his nervous power to the utmost. And now, Dr. Seward, tell me all about it, too well I know the broad fact. Tell me all that has been. I told him exactly what had happened, and he listened with seeming impassiveness, but his nostrils twitched and his eyes blaced, as I told how the ruthless hands of the Count had held his wife in that terrible and horrid position, with a mouth to the opened wound in his breast. It interested me, even at that moment to see that, whilst the face of the white-set passion worked convulsively over the bowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair. Just as I had finished, Quincy and Gedalming knocked at the door. They entered in obedience to our summons. Van Helsing looked at me questioningly. I understood him to mean that if we were to take advantage of their coming, to divert, if possible, the thoughts of the unhappy husband and wife from each other and from themselves. So unnodding acquiescence to him, he asked them what they had seen or done. To which Lord Gedalming answered, I could not see him anywhere in the passage, or in any of our rooms. I looked in the study-but, though he had been there, he had gone. He had, however. He stopped suddenly, looking at the poor drooping figure on the bed. Van Helsing said gravely, Go on, friend Arthur. We want here no more concealments. Our hope, now, is in knowing all. Tell freely. So Art went on. He had been there, and though it could have only been for a few seconds, he made rare hay of the place. All the men you script had been burnt, and the blue flames were flickering amongst the white ashes. The cylinders of your phonograph, too, were thrown on the fire, and the wax had helped the flames. Here I interrupted. Think God, there is another copy in the safe. His face lit for a moment, but fell again as he went on. I ran downstairs, then, but could see no sign of him. I looked into Renfield's room, but there is no trace there, except— Again he paused. Go on, said Harker Horsley. So he bowed his head, and moistened his lips with his tongue added, except that the poor fellow is dead. Mrs. Harker raised her head, looking from one to the other of us, she said solemnly. God's will be done! I could not feel that Art was skipping back something, but as I took it that it was with a purpose, I said nothing. Van Helsing turned to Morris and asked, And you, friend Quincy, have you any to tell? A little, he answered. It may be much eventually, but at present I can't say. I thought of well to know if possible where the count would go when he left the house. I did not see him, but I saw a bat rise up from Renfield's window and flap westward. I expected to see him in some shape go back to Carfax, but he evidently sought some other layer. He will not be back to-night, for the sky is reddening in the east, and the dawn is close. We must work to-morrow. He said the latter words through his shut teeth. For a space of perhaps a couple of minutes there was silence, and I could fancy that I could hear the sound of our hearts beating. Then Van Helsing said, placing his hand very tenderly on Mrs. Harker's head. And now, Madame Mina. Poor dear, dear Madame Mina. Tell us exactly what happened. God knows that I do not want that you be pained, but it is need that we know all. For now more than ever has all work to be done quick and sharp and indebtly earnest. The day is close to us that must end all, if it may be so, and now is the chance that we may live and learn. The poor dear lady shivered, and I could see the tension of her nerves as she clasped her husband closer to her, and bent her head lower and lower still on his breast. Then she raised her head proudly, and held out one hand of Van Helsing who took it in his, and after stooping and kissing it reverently, held it fast. The other hand was locked in that of her husband, who held his other arm thrown around her protecting me. After a pause in which she was evidently ordering her thoughts she began. I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindly given me, but, for a long time it did not act. I seemed to become more wakeful, and myriads of horrible fancies began to crowd in upon my mind, all of them connected with death and vampires with blood and pain and trouble. Her husband involuntarily groaned as she turned to him and said lovingly, Do not fret dear, you must be brave and strong, and help me through the horrible task. If you only knew what an effort it is to me to tell of this fearful thing at all, you would know how much I need your help. Well, I saw I must try to help the medicine to its work with my will, if it was to do me any good, so I rather lootly set myself to sleep. Sure enough, sleep must soon have come to me, for I remember no more. Jonathan coming in had not waked me, for he lay by my side, when I next remember. There was in the room the same thin white mist that I had before noticed, but I forget now if you know of this. You will find it in my diary, which I shall show you later. I felt the same vague terror which had come to me before, and the same sense of some presence. I turned to wake Jonathan, but found that he slept so soundly that it seemed as if it was he who had taken the sleeping draught. And not I. I tried, but I could not wake him. This caused me a great fear, and I looked round terrified. Then indeed my heart sank within me, beside the bed, as if he had stepped out of the mist, or rather as if the mist had turned into his figure, for it had entirely disappeared, stood a tall, thin man, all in black. I knew him at once from the description of the others, the wax in face, the high aqua line nose on which the light fell a thin white line, the parted red lips with a sharp white teeth showing between and the red eyes that I seemed to see in the sunset of the windows of St. Mary's Church at Whitby. I knew too the red scar on his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. Fun instant my heart stood still, and I could have screamed out only that I was paralyzed. In the pause he spoke a sort of keen, cutting whisper pointing as he spoke to Jonathan. Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes. I was appalled and was too bewildered to do or say anything. With a mocking smile he placed one hand upon my shoulder, and holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so, first a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet, it is not the first time or the second that your veins have appeased my first. I was bewildered and, strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him.   He placed his reeking lips upon my throat. Her husband groaned again. She clasped his hand harder and looked at him pittingly as if he were the injured one, and went on. I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half-smoon. How long this horrible thing lasted I know not, but it seemed that a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood. The remembrance seemed for a while to overpower her, and she dripped and would have sunk down but for her husband's sustaining arm. With a great effort she recovered herself and went on. Then he spoke to me mockingly, and so you, like the others, would play your brains against mine. You would help these men to hunt me and frustrate me in my designs. You know now that they know in part already, and will know in full before long what it is to cross my path. They should have kept their energies for use closer to home, whilst they played wits against me, against me who commanded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought for them hundreds of years before they were born. I was counter-mining them, and you, their best beloved one, are now to me flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin, my bountiful wine-press for a while, and shall be later on, my companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn, for not one of them but shall minister to your needs. But as yet you are to be punished for what you have done. You have aided in thwarting me. Now you shall come to my call.  With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp nails opened a vein in his breast.   I who have tried to walk in meekness and righteousness all my days.  Then she began to rub her lips as though to cleanse them from pollution. As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky began to quicken, and everything became more and more clear. Harko was still and quiet, but over his face, as the awful narrative went on, came a grey look which deepened and deepened in the morning light, till, when the first red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the flesh stood darkly out against the whitening hair. We have arranged that one of us is to stay within the call of the unhappy pair till we can meet together and arrange about taking action. Of this I am sure. The sun rises today on no more miserable house in all the great around of its daily course.