Dracula
CHAPTER XII
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
_18 September._--I drove at once to Hillingham and arrived early.Keeping my cab at the gate, I went up the avenue alone. I knocked gentlyand rang as quietly as possible, for I feared to disturb Lucy or hermother, and hoped to only bring a servant to the door. After a while,finding no response, I knocked and rang again; still no answer. I cursedthe laziness of the servants that they should lie abed at such anhour--for it was now ten o'clock--and so rang and knocked again, butmore impatiently, but still without response. Hitherto I had blamed onlythe servants, but now a terrible fear began to assail me. Was thisdesolation but another link in the chain of doom which seemed drawingtight around us? Was it indeed a house of death to which I had come, toolate? I knew that minutes, even seconds of delay, might mean hours ofdanger to Lucy, if she had had again one of those frightful relapses;and I went round the house to try if I could find by chance an entryanywhere.
I could find no means of ingress. Every window and door was fastened andlocked, and I returned baffled to the porch. As I did so, I heard therapid pit-pat of a swiftly driven horse's feet. They stopped at thegate, and a few seconds later I met Van Helsing running up the avenue.When he saw me, he gasped out:--
Then it was you, and just arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did younot get my telegram?
I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that I had only got histelegram early in the morning, and had not lost a minute in coming here,and that I could not make any one in the house hear me. He paused andraised his hat as he said solemnly:--
Then I fear we are too late. God's will be done! With his usualrecuperative energy, he went on: Come. If there be no way open to getin, we must make one. Time is all in all to us now.
We went round to the back of the house, where there was a kitchenwindow. The Professor took a small surgical saw from his case, andhanding it to me, pointed to the iron bars which guarded the window. Iattacked them at once and had very soon cut through three of them. Thenwith a long, thin knife we pushed back the fastening of the sashes andopened the window. I helped the Professor in, and followed him. Therewas no one in the kitchen or in the servants' rooms, which were close athand. We tried all the rooms as we went along, and in the dining-room,dimly lit by rays of light through the shutters, found fourservant-women lying on the floor. There was no need to think them dead,for their stertorous breathing and the acrid smell of laudanum in theroom left no doubt as to their condition. Van Helsing and I looked ateach other, and as we moved away he said: We can attend to them later.Then we ascended to Lucy's room. For an instant or two we paused at thedoor to listen, but there was no sound that we could hear. With whitefaces and trembling hands, we opened the door gently, and entered theroom.
How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay two women, Lucy and hermother. The latter lay farthest in, and she was covered with a whitesheet, the edge of which had been blown back by the draught through thebroken window, showing the drawn, white face, with a look of terrorfixed upon it. By her side lay Lucy, with face white and still moredrawn. The flowers which had been round her neck we found upon hermother's bosom, and her throat was bare, showing the two little woundswhich we had noticed before, but looking horribly white and mangled.Without a word the Professor bent over the bed, his head almost touchingpoor Lucy's breast; then he gave a quick turn of his head, as of one wholistens, and leaping to his feet, he cried out to me:--
It is not yet too late! Quick! quick! Bring the brandy!
I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and tasteit, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I foundon the table. The maids were still breathing, but more restlessly, and Ifancied that the narcotic was wearing off. I did not stay to make sure,but returned to Van Helsing. He rubbed the brandy, as on anotheroccasion, on her lips and gums and on her wrists and the palms of herhands. He said to me:--
I can do this, all that can be at the present. You go wake those maids.Flick them in the face with a wet towel, and flick them hard. Make themget heat and fire and a warm bath. This poor soul is nearly as cold asthat beside her. She will need be heated before we can do anythingmore.
I went at once, and found little difficulty in waking three of thewomen. The fourth was only a young girl, and the drug had evidentlyaffected her more strongly, so I lifted her on the sofa and let hersleep. The others were dazed at first, but as remembrance came back tothem they cried and sobbed in a hysterical manner. I was stern withthem, however, and would not let them talk. I told them that one lifewas bad enough to lose, and that if they delayed they would sacrificeMiss Lucy. So, sobbing and crying, they went about their way, half cladas they were, and prepared fire and water. Fortunately, the kitchen andboiler fires were still alive, and there was no lack of hot water. Wegot a bath and carried Lucy out as she was and placed her in it. Whilstwe were busy chafing her limbs there was a knock at the hall door. Oneof the maids ran off, hurried on some more clothes, and opened it. Thenshe returned and whispered to us that there was a gentleman who had comewith a message from Mr. Holmwood. I bade her simply tell him that hemust wait, for we could see no one now. She went away with the message,and, engrossed with our work, I clean forgot all about him.
I never saw in all my experience the Professor work in such deadlyearnest. I knew--as he knew--that it was a stand-up fight with death,and in a pause told him so. He answered me in a way that I did notunderstand, but with the sternest look that his face could wear:--
If that were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her fadeaway into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon. He wenton with his work with, if possible, renewed and more frenzied vigour.
Presently we both began to be conscious that the heat was beginning tobe of some effect. Lucy's heart beat a trifle more audibly to thestethoscope, and her lungs had a perceptible movement. Van Helsing'sface almost beamed, and as we lifted her from the bath and rolled her ina hot sheet to dry her he said to me:--
The first gain is ours! Check to the King!
We took Lucy into another room, which had by now been prepared, and laidher in bed and forced a few drops of brandy down her throat. I noticedthat Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief round her throat. She wasstill unconscious, and was quite as bad as, if not worse than, we hadever seen her.
Van Helsing called in one of the women, and told her to stay with herand not to take her eyes off her till we returned, and then beckoned meout of the room.
We must consult as to what is to be done, he said as we descended thestairs. In the hall he opened the dining-room door, and we passed in, heclosing the door carefully behind him. The shutters had been opened, butthe blinds were already down, with that obedience to the etiquette ofdeath which the British woman of the lower classes always rigidlyobserves. The room was, therefore, dimly dark. It was, however, lightenough for our purposes. Van Helsing's sternness was somewhat relievedby a look of perplexity. He was evidently torturing his mind aboutsomething, so I waited for an instant, and he spoke:--
What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for help? We must haveanother transfusion of blood, and that soon, or that poor girl's lifewon't be worth an hour's purchase. You are exhausted already; I amexhausted too. I fear to trust those women, even if they would havecourage to submit. What are we to do for some one who will open hisveins for her?
What's the matter with me, anyhow?
The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its tones broughtrelief and joy to my heart, for they were those of Quincey Morris. VanHelsing started angrily at the first sound, but his face softened and aglad look came into his eyes as I cried out: Quincey Morris! andrushed towards him with outstretched hands.
What brought you here? I cried as our hands met.
I guess Art is the cause.
He handed me a telegram:--
Have not heard from Seward for three days, and am terribly anxious.Cannot leave. Father still in same condition. Send me word how Lucy is.Do not delay.--HOLMWOOD.
I think I came just in the nick of time. You know you have only to tellme what to do.
Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight inthe eyes as he said:--
A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is introuble. You're a man and no mistake. Well, the devil may work againstus for all he's worth, but God sends us men when we want them.
Once again we went through that ghastly operation. I have not the heartto go through with the details. Lucy had got a terrible shock and ittold on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into herveins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the otheroccasions. Her struggle back into life was something frightful to seeand hear. However, the action of both heart and lungs improved, and VanHelsing made a subcutaneous injection of morphia, as before, and withgood effect. Her faint became a profound slumber. The Professor watchedwhilst I went downstairs with Quincey Morris, and sent one of the maidsto pay off one of the cabmen who were waiting. I left Quincey lying downafter having a glass of wine, and told the cook to get ready a goodbreakfast. Then a thought struck me, and I went back to the room whereLucy now was. When I came softly in, I found Van Helsing with a sheet ortwo of note-paper in his hand. He had evidently read it, and wasthinking it over as he sat with his hand to his brow. There was a lookof grim satisfaction in his face, as of one who has had a doubt solved.He handed me the paper saying only: It dropped from Lucy's breast whenwe carried her to the bath.
When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, and after a pauseasked him: In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or is she,mad; or what sort of horrible danger is it? I was so bewildered that Idid not know what to say more. Van Helsing put out his hand and took thepaper, saying:--
Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present. You shall knowand understand it all in good time; but it will be later. And now whatis it that you came to me to say? This brought me back to fact, and Iwas all myself again.
I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we do not actproperly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would haveto be produced. I am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for if wehad it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else did. I know, and youknow, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that Mrs. Westenrahad disease of the heart, and we can certify that she died of it. Let usfill up the certificate at once, and I shall take it myself to theregistrar and go on to the undertaker.
Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she besad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends thatlove her. One, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides one oldman. Ah yes, I know, friend John; I am not blind! I love you all themore for it! Now go.
In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling himthat Mrs. Westenra was dead; that Lucy also had been ill, but was nowgoing on better; and that Van Helsing and I were with her. I told himwhere I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said:--
When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all toourselves? I nodded in reply and went out. I found no difficulty aboutthe registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come up inthe evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements.
When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see himas soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was stillsleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his seat at herside. From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered that heexpected her to wake before long and was afraid of forestalling nature.So I went down to Quincey and took him into the breakfast-room, wherethe blinds were not drawn down, and which was a little more cheerful, orrather less cheerless, than the other rooms. When we were alone, he saidto me:--
Jack Seward, I don't want to shove myself in anywhere where I've noright to be; but this is no ordinary case. You know I loved that girland wanted to marry her; but, although that's all past and gone, I can'thelp feeling anxious about her all the same. What is it that's wrongwith her? The Dutchman--and a fine old fellow he is; I can seethat--said, that time you two came into the room, that you must have_another_ transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted.Now I know well that you medical men speak _in camera_, and that a manmust not expect to know what they consult about in private. But this isno common matter, and, whatever it is, I have done my part. Is not thatso?
That's so, I said, and he went on:--
I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I didto-day. Is not that so?
That's so.
And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago down at hisown place he looked queer. I have not seen anything pulled down so quicksince I was on the Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of go to grassall in a night. One of those big bats that they call vampires had got ather in the night, and what with his gorge and the vein left open, therewasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up, and I had to put abullet through her as she lay. Jack, if you may tell me withoutbetraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so? As he spokethe poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a torture of suspenseregarding the woman he loved, and his utter ignorance of the terriblemystery which seemed to surround her intensified his pain. His veryheart was bleeding, and it took all the manhood of him--and there was aroyal lot of it, too--to keep him from breaking down. I paused beforeanswering, for I felt that I must not betray anything which theProfessor wished kept secret; but already he knew so much, and guessedso much, that there could be no reason for not answering, so I answeredin the same phrase: That's so.
And how long has this been going on?
About ten days.
Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creaturethat we all love has had put into her veins within that time the bloodof four strong men. Man alive, her whole body wouldn't hold it. Then,coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper: What took itout?
I shook my head. That, I said, is the crux. Van Helsing is simplyfrantic about it, and I am at my wits' end. I can't even hazard a guess.There has been a series of little circumstances which have thrown outall our calculations as to Lucy being properly watched. But these shallnot occur again. Here we stay until all be well--or ill. Quincey heldout his hand. Count me in, he said. You and the Dutchman will tell mewhat to do, and I'll do it.
When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy's first movement was to feelin her breast, and, to my surprise, produced the paper which Van Helsinghad given me to read. The careful Professor had replaced it where it hadcome from, lest on waking she should be alarmed. Her eye then lit on VanHelsing and on me too, and gladdened. Then she looked around the room,and seeing where she was, shuddered; she gave a loud cry, and put herpoor thin hands before her pale face. We both understood what thatmeant--that she had realised to the full her mother's death; so we triedwhat we could to comfort her. Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, butshe was very low in thought and spirit, and wept silently and weakly fora long time. We told her that either or both of us would now remain withher all the time, and that seemed to comfort her. Towards dusk she fellinto a doze. Here a very odd thing occurred. Whilst still asleep shetook the paper from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing steppedover and took the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went onwith the action of tearing, as though the material were still in herhands; finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scatteringthe fragments. Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered asif in thought, but he said nothing.
* * * * *
_19 September._--All last night she slept fitfully, being always afraidto sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it. The Professor andI took it in turns to watch, and we never left her for a momentunattended. Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knewthat all night long he patrolled round and round the house.
When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in poor Lucy'sstrength. She was hardly able to turn her head, and the littlenourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good. At times sheslept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, betweensleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although morehaggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the palegums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer andsharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidentlychanged the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dyingone. In the afternoon she asked for Arthur, and we telegraphed for him.Quincey went off to meet him at the station.
When he arrived it was nearly six o'clock, and the sun was setting fulland warm, and the red light streamed in through the window and gave morecolour to the pale cheeks. When he saw her, Arthur was simply chokingwith emotion, and none of us could speak. In the hours that had passed,the fits of sleep, or the comatose condition that passed for it, hadgrown more frequent, so that the pauses when conversation was possiblewere shortened. Arthur's presence, however, seemed to act as astimulant; she rallied a little, and spoke to him more brightly than shehad done since we arrived. He too pulled himself together, and spoke ascheerily as he could, so that the best was made of everything.
It was now nearly one o'clock, and he and Van Helsing are sitting withher. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an hour, and I am enteringthis on Lucy's phonograph. Until six o'clock they are to try to rest. Ifear that to-morrow will end our watching, for the shock has been toogreat; the poor child cannot rally. God help us all.
_Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra._
(Unopened by her.)
_17 September._
My dearest Lucy,--
It seems _an age_ since I heard from you, or indeed since I wrote. Youwill pardon me, I know, for all my faults when you have read all mybudget of news. Well, I got my husband back all right; when we arrivedat Exeter there was a carriage waiting for us, and in it, though he hadan attack of gout, Mr. Hawkins. He took us to his house, where therewere rooms for us all nice and comfortable, and we dined together. Afterdinner Mr. Hawkins said:--
'My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity; and may everyblessing attend you both. I know you both from children, and have, withlove and pride, seen you grow up. Now I want you to make your home herewith me. I have left to me neither chick nor child; all are gone, and inmy will I have left you everything.' I cried, Lucy dear, as Jonathan andthe old man clasped hands. Our evening was a very, very happy one.
So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house, and from both mybedroom and the drawing-room I can see the great elms of the cathedralclose, with their great black stems standing out against the old yellowstone of the cathedral and I can hear the rooks overhead cawing andcawing and chattering and gossiping all day, after the manner ofrooks--and humans. I am busy, I need not tell you, arranging things andhousekeeping. Jonathan and Mr. Hawkins are busy all day; for, now thatJonathan is a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to tell him all about theclients.
How is your dear mother getting on? I wish I could run up to town for aday or two to see you, dear, but I dare not go yet, with so much on myshoulders; and Jonathan wants looking after still. He is beginning toput some flesh on his bones again, but he was terribly weakened by thelong illness; even now he sometimes starts out of his sleep in a suddenway and awakes all trembling until I can coax him back to his usualplacidity. However, thank God, these occasions grow less frequent as thedays go on, and they will in time pass away altogether, I trust. And nowI have told you my news, let me ask yours. When are you to be married,and where, and who is to perform the ceremony, and what are you to wear,and is it to be a public or a private wedding? Tell me all about it,dear; tell me all about everything, for there is nothing which interestsyou which will not be dear to me. Jonathan asks me to send his'respectful duty,' but I do not think that is good enough from thejunior partner of the important firm Hawkins & Harker; and so, as youlove me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and tensesof the verb, I send you simply his 'love' instead. Good-bye, my dearestLucy, and all blessings on you.
Yours,
MINA HARKER.
_Report from Patrick Hennessey, M. D., M. R. C. S. L. K. Q. C. P. I.,etc., etc., to John Seward, M. D._
_20 September._
My dear Sir,--
In accordance with your wishes, I enclose report of the conditions ofeverything left in my charge.... With regard to patient, Renfield, thereis more to say. He has had another outbreak, which might have had adreadful ending, but which, as it fortunately happened, was unattendedwith any unhappy results. This afternoon a carrier's cart with two menmade a call at the empty house whose grounds abut on ours--the house towhich, you will remember, the patient twice ran away. The men stopped atour gate to ask the porter their way, as they were strangers. I wasmyself looking out of the study window, having a smoke after dinner, andsaw one of them come up to the house. As he passed the window ofRenfield's room, the patient began to rate him from within, and calledhim all the foul names he could lay his tongue to. The man, who seemed adecent fellow enough, contented himself by telling him to shut up for afoul-mouthed beggar, whereon our man accused him of robbing him andwanting to murder him and said that he would hinder him if he were toswing for it. I opened the window and signed to the man not to notice,so he contented himself after looking the place over and making up hismind as to what kind of a place he had got to by saying: 'Lor' blessyer, sir, I wouldn't mind what was said to me in a bloomin' madhouse. Ipity ye and the guv'nor for havin' to live in the house with a wildbeast like that.' Then he asked his way civilly enough, and I told himwhere the gate of the empty house was; he went away, followed by threatsand curses and revilings from our man. I went down to see if I couldmake out any cause for his anger, since he is usually such awell-behaved man, and except his violent fits nothing of the kind hadever occurred. I found him, to my astonishment, quite composed and mostgenial in his manner. I tried to get him to talk of the incident, but heblandly asked me questions as to what I meant, and led me to believethat he was completely oblivious of the affair. It was, I am sorry tosay, however, only another instance of his cunning, for within half anhour I heard of him again. This time he had broken out through thewindow of his room, and was running down the avenue. I called to theattendants to follow me, and ran after him, for I feared he was intenton some mischief. My fear was justified when I saw the same cart whichhad passed before coming down the road, having on it some great woodenboxes. The men were wiping their foreheads, and were flushed in theface, as if with violent exercise. Before I could get up to him thepatient rushed at them, and pulling one of them off the cart, began toknock his head against the ground. If I had not seized him just at themoment I believe he would have killed the man there and then. The otherfellow jumped down and struck him over the head with the butt-end of hisheavy whip. It was a terrible blow; but he did not seem to mind it, butseized him also, and struggled with the three of us, pulling us to andfro as if we were kittens. You know I am no light weight, and the otherswere both burly men. At first he was silent in his fighting; but as webegan to master him, and the attendants were putting a strait-waistcoaton him, he began to shout: 'I'll frustrate them! They shan't rob me!they shan't murder me by inches! I'll fight for my Lord and Master!' andall sorts of similar incoherent ravings. It was with very considerabledifficulty that they got him back to the house and put him in the paddedroom. One of the attendants, Hardy, had a finger broken. However, I setit all right; and he is going on well.
The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of actions fordamages, and promised to rain all the penalties of the law on us. Theirthreats were, however, mingled with some sort of indirect apology forthe defeat of the two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if ithad not been for the way their strength had been spent in carrying andraising the heavy boxes to the cart they would have made short work ofhim. They gave as another reason for their defeat the extraordinarystate of drouth to which they had been reduced by the dusty nature oftheir occupation and the reprehensible distance from the scene of theirlabours of any place of public entertainment. I quite understood theirdrift, and after a stiff glass of grog, or rather more of the same, andwith each a sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and sworethat they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure ofmeeting so 'bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took theirnames and addresses, in case they might be needed. They are asfollows:--Jack Smollet, of Dudding's Rents, King George's Road, GreatWalworth, and Thomas Snelling, Peter Farley's Row, Guide Court, BethnalGreen. They are both in the employment of Harris & Sons, Moving andShipment Company, Orange Master's Yard, Soho.
I shall report to you any matter of interest occurring here, and shallwire you at once if there is anything of importance.
Believe me, dear Sir,
Yours faithfully,
PATRICK HENNESSEY.
_Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra_.
(Unopened by her.)
_18 September._
My dearest Lucy,--
Such a sad blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins has died very suddenly.Some may not think it so sad for us, but we had both come to so love himthat it really seems as though we had lost a father. I never knew eitherfather or mother, so that the dear old man's death is a real blow to me.Jonathan is greatly distressed. It is not only that he feels sorrow,deep sorrow, for the dear, good man who has befriended him all his life,and now at the end has treated him like his own son and left him afortune which to people of our modest bringing up is wealth beyond thedream of avarice, but Jonathan feels it on another account. He says theamount of responsibility which it puts upon him makes him nervous. Hebegins to doubt himself. I try to cheer him up, and _my_ belief in _him_helps him to have a belief in himself. But it is here that the graveshock that he experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too hardthat a sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his--a nature whichenabled him by our dear, good friend's aid to rise from clerk to masterin a few years--should be so injured that the very essence of itsstrength is gone. Forgive me, dear, if I worry you with my troubles inthe midst of your own happiness; but, Lucy dear, I must tell some one,for the strain of keeping up a brave and cheerful appearance to Jonathantries me, and I have no one here that I can confide in. I dread comingup to London, as we must do the day after to-morrow; for poor Mr.Hawkins left in his will that he was to be buried in the grave with hisfather. As there are no relations at all, Jonathan will have to be chiefmourner. I shall try to run over to see you, dearest, if only for a fewminutes. Forgive me for troubling you. With all blessings,
Your loving
MINA HARKER.
_Dr. Seward's Diary._
_20 September._--Only resolution and habit can let me make an entryto-night. I am too miserable, too low-spirited, too sick of the worldand all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heardthis moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death. And he hasbeen flapping those grim wings to some purpose of late--Lucy's motherand Arthur's father, and now.... Let me get on with my work.
I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. We wanted Arthur togo to rest also, but he refused at first. It was only when I told himthat we should want him to help us during the day, and that we must notall break down for want of rest, lest Lucy should suffer, that he agreedto go. Van Helsing was very kind to him. Come, my child, he said;come with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and muchmental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of. Youmust not be alone; for to be alone is to be full of fears and alarms.Come to the drawing-room, where there is a big fire, and there are twosofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy willbe comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if wesleep. Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing look on Lucy'sface, which lay in her pillow, almost whiter than the lawn. She layquite still, and I looked round the room to see that all was as itshould be. I could see that the Professor had carried out in this room,as in the other, his purpose of using the garlic; the whole of thewindow-sashes reeked with it, and round Lucy's neck, over the silkhandkerchief which Van Helsing made her keep on, was a rough chaplet ofthe same odorous flowers. Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, andher face was at its worst, for the open mouth showed the pale gums. Herteeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than theyhad been in the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, thecanine teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest. I sat down by her,and presently she moved uneasily. At the same moment there came a sortof dull flapping or buffeting at the window. I went over to it softly,and peeped out by the corner of the blind. There was a full moonlight,and I could see that the noise was made by a great bat, which wheeledround--doubtless attracted by the light, although so dim--and every nowand again struck the window with its wings. When I came back to my seat,I found that Lucy had moved slightly, and had torn away the garlicflowers from her throat. I replaced them as well as I could, and satwatching her.
Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Helsing had prescribed.She took but a little, and that languidly. There did not seem to be withher now the unconscious struggle for life and strength that had hithertoso marked her illness. It struck me as curious that the moment shebecame conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close to her. It wascertainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with thestertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when shewaked she clutched them close. There was no possibility of making anymistake about this, for in the long hours that followed, she had manyspells of sleeping and waking and repeated both actions many times.
At six o'clock Van Helsing came to relieve me. Arthur had then falleninto a doze, and he mercifully let him sleep on. When he saw Lucy's faceI could hear the sissing indraw of his breath, and he said to me in asharp whisper: Draw up the blind; I want light! Then he bent down,and, with his face almost touching Lucy's, examined her carefully. Heremoved the flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief from her throat. Ashe did so he started back, and I could hear his ejaculation, MeinGott! as it was smothered in his throat. I bent over and looked, too,and as I noticed some queer chill came over me.
The wounds on the throat had absolutely disappeared.
For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his faceat its sternest. Then he turned to me and said calmly:--
She is dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference, markme, whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor boy, andlet him come and see the last; he trusts us, and we have promised him.
I went to the dining-room and waked him. He was dazed for a moment, butwhen he saw the sunlight streaming in through the edges of the shuttershe thought he was late, and expressed his fear. I assured him that Lucywas still asleep, but told him as gently as I could that both VanHelsing and I feared that the end was near. He covered his face with hishands, and slid down on his knees by the sofa, where he remained,perhaps a minute, with his head buried, praying, whilst his shouldersshook with grief. I took him by the hand and raised him up. Come, Isaid, my dear old fellow, summon all your fortitude: it will be bestand easiest for her.
When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, withhis usual forethought, been putting matters straight and makingeverything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed Lucy'shair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When wecame into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whisperedsoftly:--
Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! He was stooping tokiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back. No, he whispered, notyet! Hold her hand; it will comfort her more.
So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and she looked her best,with all the soft lines matching the angelic beauty of her eyes. Thengradually her eyes closed, and she sank to sleep. For a little bit herbreast heaved softly, and her breath came and went like a tired child's.
And then insensibly there came the strange change which I had noticed inthe night. Her breathing grew stertorous, the mouth opened, and the palegums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever. In asort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way she opened her eyes, whichwere now dull and hard at once, and said in a soft, voluptuous voice,such as I had never heard from her lips:--
Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss me! Arthur benteagerly over to kiss her; but at that instant Van Helsing, who, like me,had been startled by her voice, swooped upon him, and catching him bythe neck with both hands, dragged him back with a fury of strength whichI never thought he could have possessed, and actually hurled him almostacross the room.
Not for your life! he said; not for your living soul and hers! Andhe stood between them like a lion at bay.
Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a moment know what to door say; and before any impulse of violence could seize him he realisedthe place and the occasion, and stood silent, waiting.
I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and we saw a spasm asof rage flit like a shadow over her face; the sharp teeth champedtogether. Then her eyes closed, and she breathed heavily.
Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness, andputting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great brownone; drawing it to her, she kissed it. My true friend, she said, in afaint voice, but with untellable pathos, My true friend, and his! Oh,guard him, and give me peace!
I swear it! he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and holding up hishand, as one who registers an oath. Then he turned to Arthur, and saidto him: Come, my child, take her hand in yours, and kiss her on theforehead, and only once.
Their eyes met instead of their lips; and so they parted.
Lucy's eyes closed; and Van Helsing, who had been watching closely, tookArthur's arm, and drew him away.
And then Lucy's breathing became stertorous again, and all at once itceased.
It is all over, said Van Helsing. She is dead!
I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the drawing-room, where hesat down, and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in a way thatnearly broke me down to see.
I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing looking at poor Lucy, andhis face was sterner than ever. Some change had come over her body.Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow and cheeks hadrecovered some of their flowing lines; even the lips had lost theirdeadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed for the workingof the heart, had gone to make the harshness of death as little rude asmight be.
We thought her dying whilst she slept, And sleeping when she died.
I stood beside Van Helsing, and said:--
Ah, well, poor girl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!
He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity:--
Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!
When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered:--
We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see.