Jonathan Harkers
Journal
1 October, 5 a.m. I went with
the party to the search with an easy mind, for I think I never saw
Mina so absolutely strong and well. I am so glad that she consented
to hold back and let us men do the work. Somehow, 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 and
foresight 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. We were, I think,
all a little upset by the scene with Mr. Renfield. When we came
away from his room we were silent till we got back to the study.
Then Mr. Morris said to Dr. Seward: Say, Jack, if that man wasnt
attempting a bluff, he is about the sanest lunatic I ever saw. Im
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 Im 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 Quincey would
say. All is best as they are. Dr. Seward seemed to answer
them both in a dreamy kind of way: I dont 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 seems 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 cant 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 isnt 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 unnerve a 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 Godalming had slipped away
for a few minutes, but he now returned. He held up a little silver
whistle as he remarked: That old place may be full
of rats, and if so, Ive 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 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 many kinds. Our enemy
is not merely spiritual. Remember that he has the strength of twenty
men, and that, though 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 men
more strong in all than him, can at certain times hold him; but
yet 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, I 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 small electric
lamps, which you can fasten to your breast; and for all, and above
all at the 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 was similarly equipped.Now,
he said, friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so that
we can open the door, we need not break house by the window, as before at Miss Lucys.
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 play back 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. Sewards
diary of the opening of Miss Westenras 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 threw great shadows. I could not for my life
get away from the feeling that there was some one 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 spiders webs,
whereon the dust had gathered till they looked like old tattered
rags as the weight had torn them partly down. On a 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 blanket 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 even expected such an odour
as we encountered. None of the others had met the Count at all at
close quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the fasting
stage of his existence in his 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 fouler air. But as to the odour itself, now
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. Faugh!
it sickens me to think of it. Every breath exhaled by that monster
seemed to have clung to the place and intensified its loathsomeness.
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 set about our work as though
that loathsome place were a garden of roses.
We made an accurate examination
of the place, and 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 a fright, 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 high lights of
the Counts 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
any one; 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 suddenly back from a corner, which he was examining. We all
followed his movements with our eyes, for undoubtedly 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 oaken 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. Sewards 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 the rats had vastly increased. They
seemed to swarm over the place all at once, till the lamplight,
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 most
lugubrious fashion. The rats were multiplying in thousands, and
we moved out.
Lord Godalming 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 in the same manner, had but small prey
ere the 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 foes,
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
whit 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. Van Helsing had taken the
key of the hall-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 ascertained 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 thereinto our most sweet Madam
Mina or troubling her walking 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 a particulari:
that the brute beasts which are to the Counts 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
summon the wolves to your going and to that poor mothers cry,
though they come to him, they run pell-mell 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 to-night. So be it
that he has 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
nights 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 was screaming away in one
of the distant wards, and a low, moaning sound from Renfields
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 as we can tell her that all
is finished, and the earth free from a monster of the nether world.
I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such
confidence as ours; but I must be resolute, and to-morrow I shall
keep dark over to-nights doings, and shall refuse to speak
of anything that has happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to
disturb her.
1 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 its 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 recognize me, but looked at me with a sort of blank terror, as one looks 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 these 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.
Dr. Sewards Diary
1 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 nights 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 too 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 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 an 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 of his delusion as to consuming
live things. He said to Madam Mina, as I see in your diary of yesterday,
that he had once had such a belief. Why do you smile, friend John?
Excuse me, I said,
but the answer is here. I laid my hand on the type-written
matter.When our sane and learned 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 folly 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 politely 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.Dont you know
me? I asked. His answer was not reassuring: I know you
well enough; you are the old fool Van Helsing. I wish you would
take yourself and your idiotic brain theories somewhere else. Damn
all thick-headed Dutchmen! Not a word more would he say, but
sat in his implacable sullenness as indifferent to the as though
I had not been ill the room at all. Thus departed for this 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 Madam 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; Quincey 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 to-night.
Mina Harkers Journal
1 October it is strange to
me to be kept in the dark as I am to-day; after Jonathans
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 Jonathan 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 Counts 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
husbands 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 low-spirited to-day.
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 to. I didnt 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 hadnt gone to Whitby, perhaps
poor dear Lucy would be with us now. She hadnt taken to visiting
the churchyard till I came, and if she hadnt come there in
the day-time with me she wouldnt have walked there in her
sleep; and if she hadnt gone there at night and asleep, that
monster couldnt have destroyed her as he did. Oh, why did
I ever go to Whitby? There now, crying again! I wonder what has
come over me today. I must hide it from Jonathan, for if he knew
that I had 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 cant quite remember how
I fell asleep last night. I remember hearing the sudden barking
of the dogs and a lot of queer sounds, like praying on a very tumultuous
scale, from Mr. Renfields room, which is somewhere under this.
And then there was silence over everything, silence so profound
that it startled me, and I got up and looked out of the window.
All was dark and silent, the black shadows thrown by the moonlight
seeming full of a silent mystery of their own. Not a thing seemed
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, seemed to have a sentience
and a vitality of its own. I think that the digression of my thoughts
must have done me good, for when I got back to bed I found a lethargy
creeping over me. I lay a while, 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 stealing 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 recognise in his tones some
passionate entreaty 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 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 realise 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.
And so I slept uneasily and 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 gas-light 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. There it occurred to me
that I had shut the window before I had come to bed. I would have
got out to make certain on the point, but some leaden 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 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 of fire by night. Was it indeed
some such 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 seemed
to shine on me through the fog like two red eyes, such as Lucy told
me of in her momentary mental wandering when, on the cliff, the
dying sunlight struck the windows of St. Marys Church. Suddenly
the horror burst upon me that it was thus that Jonathan had seen
those awful women growing into reality throught 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 white face bending over me out of the mist.
I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat ones
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 woven into their fears for me. To-night I shall
strive hard to sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall to-morrow night
get them to give me a dose of chloral; that cannot hurt me for once,
and it will give me a good nights 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 to-day I feel terribly weak and spiritless. I spent all
yesterday trying to read, or lying down dozing. 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. Some
way it affected me much; I am 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 until dinner-time,
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 Jonathans 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
am waiting for sleep, which still keeps aloof. I hope I have not
done wrong, for as sleep begins to flirt with me, a new fear comes:
that I may have been foolish in thus depriving myself of the power
of waking. I might want it. Here comes sleep. Goodnight.
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