Dracula

CHAPTER II

JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL--_continued_

_5 May._--I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fullyawake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. Inthe gloom the courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several darkways led from it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger thanit really is. I have not yet been able to see it by daylight.

When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his handto assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigiousstrength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could havecrushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took out my traps, and placedthem on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old andstudded with large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway ofmassive stone. I could see even in the dim light that the stone wasmassively carved, but that the carving had been much worn by time andweather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shook thereins; the horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared down oneof the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bellor knocker there was no sign; through these frowning walls and darkwindow openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate. Thetime I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding uponme. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people?What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was this acustomary incident in the life of a solicitor's clerk sent out toexplain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor'sclerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor--for just before leavingLondon I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now afull-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see ifI were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and Iexpected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, withthe dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again feltin the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered thepinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awakeand among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and towait the coming of the morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approachingbehind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a cominglight. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking ofmassive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noiseof long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long whitemoustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speckof colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silverlamp, in which the flame burned without chimney or globe of any kind,throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of theopen door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtlygesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation:--

”Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!” He made nomotion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though hisgesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, thatI had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, andholding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince,an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold asice--more like the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:--

”Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of thehappiness you bring!” The strength of the handshake was so much akin tothat which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, thatfor a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I wasspeaking; so to make sure, I said interrogatively:--

”Count Dracula?” He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:--

”I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in;the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest.” As he wasspeaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out,took my luggage; he had carried it in before I could forestall him. Iprotested but he insisted:--

”Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are notavailable. Let me see to your comfort myself.” He insisted on carryingmy traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, andalong another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rangheavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoicedto see within a well-lit room in which a table was spread for supper,and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly replenished,flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossingthe room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room litby a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passingthrough this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It was awelcome sight; for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed withanother log fire,--also added to but lately, for the top logs werefresh--which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himselfleft my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he closed thedoor:--

”You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making yourtoilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, comeinto the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.”

The light and warmth and the Count's courteous welcome seemed to havedissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal state,I discovered that I was half famished with hunger; so making a hastytoilet, I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of thegreat fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave ofhis hand to the table, and said:--

”I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuseme that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup.”

I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had entrusted to me.He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a charming smile, he handedit to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill ofpleasure.

”I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constantsufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time tocome; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one inwhom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energyand talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He isdiscreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shallbe ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall takeyour instructions in all matters.”

The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and Ifell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheeseand a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, wasmy supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked me manyquestions as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I hadexperienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host's desire had drawnup a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me,at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now anopportunity of observing him, and found him of a very markedphysiognomy.

His face was a strong--a very strong--aquiline, with high bridge of thethin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, andhair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. Hiseyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushyhair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as Icould see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rathercruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded overthe lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in aman of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the topsextremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firmthough thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his kneesin the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeingthem now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rathercoarse--broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs inthe centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharppoint. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could notrepress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but ahorrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I couldnot conceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with agrim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done hisprotuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of thefireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked towards thewindow I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed astrange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if fromdown below in the valley the howling of many wolves. The Count's eyesgleamed, and he said:--

”Listen to them--the children of the night. What music they make!”Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, headded:--

”Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of thehunter.” Then he rose and said:--

”But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-morrow youshall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon;so sleep well and dream well!” With a courteous bow, he opened for mehimself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom....

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things,which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for thesake of those dear to me!

* * * * *

_7 May._--It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed thelast twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of myown accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we hadsupped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by thepot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on whichwas written:--

”I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.--D.” I set to andenjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that Imight let the servants know I had finished; but I could not find one.There are certainly odd deficiencies in the house, considering theextraordinary evidences of wealth which are round me. The table serviceis of gold, and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value.The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings ofmy bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must havebeen of fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old,though in excellent order. I saw something like them in Hampton Court,but there they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still in none ofthe rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on mytable, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before Icould either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servantanywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves.Some time after I had finished my meal--I do not know whether to call itbreakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o'clock when I hadit--I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go aboutthe castle until I had asked the Count's permission. There wasabsolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writingmaterials; so I opened another door in the room and found a sort oflibrary. The door opposite mine I tried, but found it locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of Englishbooks, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines andnewspapers. A table in the centre was littered with English magazinesand newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The bookswere of the most varied kind--history, geography, politics, politicaleconomy, botany, geology, law--all relating to England and English lifeand customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as theLondon Directory, the ”Red” and ”Blue” books, Whitaker's Almanac, theArmy and Navy Lists, and--it somehow gladdened my heart to see it--theLaw List.

Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Countentered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a goodnight's rest. Then he went on:--

”I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much thatwill interest you. These companions”--and he laid his hand on some ofthe books--”have been good friends to me, and for some years past, eversince I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hoursof pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and toknow her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets ofyour mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush ofhumanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makesit what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue through books.To you, my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”

”But, Count,” I said, ”you know and speak English thoroughly!” He bowedgravely.

”I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but yet Ifear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I knowthe grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them.”

”Indeed,” I said, ”you speak excellently.”

”Not so,” he answered. ”Well, I know that, did I move and speak in yourLondon, none there are who would not know me for a stranger. That is notenough for me. Here I am noble; I am _boyar_; the common people know me,and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; menknow him not--and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I amlike the rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in hisspeaking if he hear my words, 'Ha, ha! a stranger!' I have been so longmaster that I would be master still--or at least that none other shouldbe master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend PeterHawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new estate in London. Youshall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, so that by our talking I maylearn the English intonation; and I would that you tell me when I makeerror, even of the smallest, in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to beaway so long to-day; but you will, I know, forgive one who has so manyimportant affairs in hand.”

Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I mightcome into that room when I chose. He answered: ”Yes, certainly,” andadded:--

”You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors arelocked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason thatall things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know withmy knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.” I said I was sure ofthis, and then he went on:--

”We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways arenot your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, fromwhat you have told me of your experiences already, you know something ofwhat strange things there may be.”

This led to much conversation; and as it was evident that he wanted totalk, if only for talking's sake, I asked him many questions regardingthings that had already happened to me or come within my notice.Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation bypretending not to understand; but generally he answered all I asked mostfrankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I askedhim of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as, forinstance, why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the blueflames. He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on acertain night of the year--last night, in fact, when all evil spiritsare supposed to have unchecked sway--a blue flame is seen over any placewhere treasure has been concealed. ”That treasure has been hidden,” hewent on, ”in the region through which you came last night, there can bebut little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for centuries by theWallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soilin all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men,patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when theAustrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went outto meet them--men and women, the aged and the children too--and waitedtheir coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweepdestruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invaderwas triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had beensheltered in the friendly soil.”

”But how,” said I, ”can it have remained so long undiscovered, whenthere is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look?”The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long,sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely; he answered:--

”Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames onlyappear on one night; and on that night no man of this land will, if hecan help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did hewould not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of whomarked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylighteven for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able tofind these places again?”

”There you are right,” I said. ”I know no more than the dead where evento look for them.” Then we drifted into other matters.

”Come,” he said at last, ”tell me of London and of the house which youhave procured for me.” With an apology for my remissness, I went into myown room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them inorder I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as Ipassed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamplit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also litin the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa,reading, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw's Guide. When Icame in he cleared the books and papers from the table; and with him Iwent into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested ineverything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and itssurroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on thesubject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at the end knew very muchmore than I did. When I remarked this, he answered:--

”Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go thereI shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan--nay, pardon me, Ifall into my country's habit of putting your patronymic first--my friendJonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me. He will bein Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of the law with myother friend, Peter Hawkins. So!”

We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate atPurfleet. When I had told him the facts and got his signature to thenecessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post toMr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable aplace. I read to him the notes which I had made at the time, and which Iinscribe here:--

”At Purfleet, on a by-road, I came across just such a place as seemed tobe required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the placewas for sale. It is surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure,built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large number ofyears. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten withrust.

”The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old _QuatreFace_, as the house is four-sided, agreeing with the cardinal points ofthe compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded bythe solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, whichmake it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond orsmall lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear andflows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of allperiods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of stoneimmensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred withiron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel orchurch. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leadingto it from the house, but I have taken with my kodak views of it fromvarious points. The house has been added to, but in a very stragglingway, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which mustbe very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a verylarge house only recently added to and formed into a private lunaticasylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds.”

When I had finished, he said:--

”I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and tolive in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in aday; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoicealso that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles lovenot to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek notgaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine andsparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young;and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is notattuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; theshadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the brokenbattlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and wouldbe alone with my thoughts when I may.” Somehow his words and his lookdid not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast of face made hissmile look malignant and saturnine.

Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to put all my paperstogether. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some ofthe books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened naturally atEngland, as if that map had been much used. On looking at it I found incertain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticedthat one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his newestate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on theYorkshire coast.

It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. ”Aha!” hesaid; ”still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; Iam informed that your supper is ready.” He took my arm, and we went intothe next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. TheCount again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away fromhome. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate.After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed withme, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hourafter hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did notsay anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host's wishes inevery way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortifiedme; but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one atthe coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide.They say that people who are near death die generally at the change tothe dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, andtied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmospherecan well believe it. All at once we heard the crow of a cock coming upwith preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air; CountDracula, jumping to his feet, said:--

”Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up solong. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country ofEngland less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies byus,” and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was little tonotice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was thewarm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and havewritten of this day.

* * * * *

_8 May._--I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting toodiffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, forthere is something so strange about this place and all in it that Icannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I hadnever come. It may be that this strange night-existence is telling onme; but would that that were all! If there were any one to talk to Icould bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with,and he!--I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. Letme be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up, andimagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me sayat once how I stand--or seem to.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I couldnot sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window,and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder,and heard the Count's voice saying to me, ”Good-morning.” I started, forit amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glasscovered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly,but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count'ssalutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken.This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and Icould see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him inthe mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was nosign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming onthe top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vaguefeeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near; but atthe instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood wastrickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so halfround to look for some sticking plaster. When the Count saw my face, hiseyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab atmy throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads whichheld the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passedso quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

”Take care,” he said, ”take care how you cut yourself. It is moredangerous than you think in this country.” Then seizing the shavingglass, he went on: ”And this is the wretched thing that has done themischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it!” andopening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flungout the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stonesof the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is veryannoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case orthe bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I couldnot find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange thatas yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a verypeculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle. Iwent out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards the South. Theview was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunityof seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. Astone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet withouttouching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green treetops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here andthere are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges throughthe forests.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view Iexplored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked andbolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is therean available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!