by Stoker, Bram
“Did you hit it?” asked Dr. Van Helsing.
“I don’t know, I fancy not, for it flew away into the wood.” Without saying any more he took his seat, and the Professor began to resume his statement.
“We must trace each of these boxes, and when we are ready, we must either capture or kill this monster in his lair, or we must, so to speak, sterilize the earth, so that no more he can seek safety in it. Thus in the end we may find him in his form of man between the hours of noon and sunset, and so engage with him when he is at his most weak.
“And now for you, Madam Mina, this night is the end until all be well. You are too precious to us to have such risk. When we part tonight, you no more must question. We shall tell you all in good time. We are men and are able to bear, but you must be our star and our hope, and we shall act all the more free that you are not in the danger, such as we are.”
All the men, even Jonathan, seemed relieved, but it did not seem to me good that they should brave danger and, perhaps lessen their safety, strength being the best safety, through care of me, but their minds were made up, and though it was a bitter pill for me to swallow, I could say nothing, save to accept their chivalrous care of me.
Mr. Morris resumed the discussion, “As there is no time to lose, I vote we have a look at his house right now. Time is everything with him, and swift action on our part may save another victim.”
I own that my heart began to fail me when the time for action came so close, but I did not say anything, for I had a greater fear that if I appeared as a drag or a hindrance to their work, they might even leave me out of their counsels altogether. They have now gone off to Carfax, with means to get into the house.
Manlike, they had told me to go to bed and sleep, as if a woman can sleep when those she loves are in danger! I shall lie down, and pretend to sleep, lest Jonathan have added anxiety about me when he returns.
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
1 OCTOBER, 4 A.M.—Just as we were about to leave the house, an urgent message was brought to me from Renfield to know if I would see him at once, as he had something of the utmost importance to say to me. I told the messenger to say that I would attend to his wishes in the morning, I was busy just at the moment.
The attendant added, “He seems very importunate, sir. I have never seen him so eager. I don’t know but what, if you don’t see him soon, he will have one of his violent fits.” I knew the man would not have said this without some cause, so I said, “All right, I’ll go now,” and I asked the others to wait a few minutes for me, as I had to go and see my “patient.”
“Take me with you, friend John,” said the Professor. “His case in your diary interest me much, and it had bearing, too, now and again on our case. I should much like to see him, and especial when his mind is disturbed.”
“May I come also?” asked Lord Godalming.
“Me too?” said Quincey Morris. “May I come?” said Harker. I nodded, and we all went down the passage together.
We found him in a state of considerable excitement, but far more rational in his speech and manner than I had ever seen him. There was an unusual understanding of himself, which was unlike anything I had ever met with in a lunatic, and he took it for granted that his reasons would prevail with others entirely sane. We all five went into the room, but none of the others at first said anything. His request was that I would at once release him from the asylum and send him home. This he backed up with arguments regarding his complete recovery, and adduced his own existing sanity. “I appeal to your friends,” he said, “they will, perhaps, not mind sitting in judgement on my case. By the way, you have not introduced me.” I was so much astonished, that the oddness of introducing a madman in an asylum did not strike me at the moment, and besides, there was a certain dignity in the man’s manner, so much of the habit of equality, that I at once made the introduction, “Lord Godalming, Professor Van Helsing, Mr. Quincey Morris, of Texas, Mr. Jonathan Harker, Mr. Renfield.” He shook hands with each of them, saying in turn:—
“Lord Godalming, I had the honour of seconding your father at the Windham; I grieve to know, by your holding the title, that he is no more. He was a man loved and honoured by all who knew him, and in his youth was, I have heard, the inventor of a burnt rum punch, much patronized on Derby night. Mr. Morris, you should be proud of your great state. Its reception into the Union was a precedent which may have far-reaching effects hereafter, when the Pole and the Tropics may hold alliance to the Stars and Stripes. The power of Treaty may yet prove a vast engine of enlargement, when the Monroe doctrine takes its true place as a political fable. What shall any man say of his pleasure at meeting Van Helsing? Sir, I make no apology for dropping all forms of conventional prefix. When an individual has revolutionized therapeutics by his discovery of the continuous evolution of brain matter, conventional forms are unfitting, since they would seem to limit him to one of a class. You, gentlemen, who by nationality, by heredity, or by the possession of natural gifts, are fitted to hold your respective places in the moving world, I take to witness that I am as sane as at least the majority of men who are in full possession of their liberties. And I am sure that you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian and medico-jurist as well as scientist, will deem it a moral duty to deal with me as one to be considered as under exceptional circumstances.” He made this last appeal with a courtly air of conviction which was not without its own charm.
I think we were all staggered. For my own part, I was under the conviction, despite my knowledge of the man’s character and history, that his reason had been restored, and I felt under a strong impulse to tell him that I was satisfied as to his sanity, and would see about the necessary formalities for his release in the morning. I thought it better to wait, however, before making so grave a statement, for of old I knew the sudden changes to which this particular patient was liable. So I contented myself with making a general statement that he appeared to be improving very rapidly, that I would have a longer chat with him in the morning, and would then see what I could do in the direction of meeting his wishes. This did not at all satisfy him, for he said quickly:—
“But I fear, Dr. Seward, that you hardly apprehend my wish. I desire to go at once, here, now, this very hour, this very moment, if I may. Time presses, and in our implied agreement with the old scytheman it is of the essence of the contract. I am sure it is only necessary to put before so admirable a practitioner as Dr. Seward so simple, yet so momentous a wish, to ensure its fulfilment.” He looked at me keenly, and seeing the negative in my face, turned to the others, and scrutinized them closely. Not meeting any sufficient response, he went on, “Is it possible that I have erred in my supposition?”
“You have,” I said frankly, but at the same time, as I felt, brutally. There was a considerable pause, and then he said slowly, “Then I suppose I must only shift my ground of request. Let me ask for this concession, boon, privilege, what you will. I am content to implore in such a case, not on personal grounds, but for the sake of others. I am not at liberty to give you the whole of my reasons, but you may, I assure you, take it from me that they are good ones, sound and unselfish, and spring from the highest sense of duty. Could you look, sir, into my heart, you would approve to the full the sentiments which animate me. Nay, more, you would count me amongst the best and truest of your friends.” Again he looked at us all keenly. I had a growing conviction that this sudden change of his entire intellectual method was but yet another phase of his madness, and so determined to let him go on a little longer, knowing from experience that he would, like all lunatics, give himself away in the end. Van Helsing was gazing at him with a look of utmost intensity, his bushy eyebrows almost meeting with the fixed concentration of his look. He said to Renfield in a tone which did not surprise me at the time, but only when I thought of it afterwards, for it was as of one addressing an equal:—
“Can you not tell frankly your real reason for wishing to be free tonight? I will undertake that if you will satisfy even me, a stranger, without pr
ejudice, and with the habit of keeping an open mind, Dr. Seward will give you, at his own risk and on his own responsibility, the privilege you seek.” He shook his head sadly, and with a look of poignant regret on his face.
The Professor went on, “Come, sir, bethink yourself. You claim the privilege of reason in the highest degree, since you seek to impress us with your complete reasonableness. You do this, whose sanity we have reason to doubt, since you are not yet released from medical treatment for this very defect. If you will not help us in our effort to choose the wisest course, how can we perform the duty which you yourself put upon us? Be wise, and help us, and if we can we shall aid you to achieve your wish.”
He still shook his head as he said, “Dr. Van Helsing, I have nothing to say. Your argument is complete, and if I were free to speak I should not hesitate a moment, but I am not my own master in the matter. I can only ask you to trust me. If I am refused, the responsibility does not rest with me.” I thought it was now time to end the scene, which was becoming too comically grave, so I went towards the door, simply saying, “Come, my friends, we have work to do. Goodnight.”
As, however, I got near the door, a new change came over the patient. He moved towards me so quickly that for the moment I feared that he was about to make another homicidal attack. My fears, however, were groundless, for he held up his two hands imploringly, and made his petition in a moving manner. As he saw that the very excess of his emotion was militating against him, by restoring us more to our old relations, he became still more demonstrative. I glanced at Van Helsing, and saw my conviction reflected in his eyes, so I became a little more fixed in my manner, if not more stern, and motioned to him that his efforts were unavailing. I had previously seen something of the same constantly growing excitement in him when he had to make some request of which at the time he had thought much, such for instance, as when he wanted a cat, and I was prepared to see the collapse into the same sullen acquiescence on this occasion. My expectation was not realized, for when he found that his appeal would not be successful, he got into quite a frantic condition. He threw himself on his knees, and held up his hands, wringing them in plaintive supplication, and poured forth a torrent of entreaty, with the tears rolling down his cheeks, and his whole face and form expressive of the deepest emotion.
“Let me entreat you, Dr. Seward, oh, let me implore you, to let me out of this house at once. Send me away how you will and where you will, send keepers with me with whips and chains, let them take me in a strait waistcoat, manacled and leg-ironed, even to gaol, but let me go out of this. You don’t know what you do by keeping me here. I am speaking from the depths of my heart, of my very soul. You don’t know whom you wrong, or how, and I may not tell. Woe is me! I may not tell. By all you hold sacred, by all you hold dear, by your love that is lost, by your hope that lives, for the sake of the Almighty, take me out of this and save my soul from guilt! Can’t you hear me, man? Can’t you understand? Will you never learn? Don’t you know that I am sane and earnest now, that I am no lunatic in a mad fit, but a sane man fighting for his soul? Oh, hear me! Hear me! Let me go, let me go, let me go!”
I thought that the longer this went on the wilder he would get, and so would bring on a fit, so I took him by the hand and raised him up.
“Come,” I said sternly, “no more of this, we have had quite enough already. Get to your bed and try to behave more discreetly.
He suddenly stopped and looked at me intently for several moments. Then, without a word, he rose and moving over, sat down on the side of the bed. The collapse had come, as on former occasions, just as I had expected.
When I was leaving the room, last of our party, he said to me in a quiet, well-bred voice, “You will, I trust, Dr. Seward, do me the justice to bear in mind, later on, that I did what I could to convince you tonight.”
The reader is on his or her own when it comes to figuring out why Mina is “interested” in Renfield, but it is possible that Dracula is at work here. He may be putting out vibes through Renfield, his servant.
While we’ve praised clarity, allowing readers themselves to determine “just what is going on” is acceptable and can sometimes heighten tension and suspense, as long as the writer has provided sufficient clues to suggest possibilities. Cliff-hangers, subplots, and red herrings are made of such unexplained possibilities.
The case can be made here that Mina is simply interested in a rare mental disorder.
The case can likewise be made that Dracula, through the willing or unwilling mediumship of Renfield, is zeroing in on a new target.
The case cannot be made that Mina has decided to teach Renfield shorthand, that Seward has subtly suggested that Mina visit Renfield so that he can observe his patient in her presence, or that God has acted to bring together Mina and the madman. There are no clues offered to give us any of these interpretations. Finding clues where there are none is every bit as much a danger for some academics as seeing a cigar as a symbol when it is just a cigar!
Renfield’s housecleaning is another example of Stoker’s sense of humor, in this case, twisted humor.
Ordinarily we might say that a certain lack of social graces is a sign of mental illness, and thus Renfield is staying true to character, but so many of the central characters in the book are so lacking in social graces (Van Helsing in particular, although Count Dracula is usually ultrapolite—or parodying politeness!) that this might be a dangerous conclusion.
“Asinine” because Dracula has informed him? Informed him because Lucy’s mind was totally open to the King Vampire? See the first annotation in this chapter.
Is this meant to be a hint that Dracula is providing “the rare gift or power” and that Dr. Seward is reading the situation wrong? He’s been wrong before! Again, see the first annotation in this chapter.
Is Renfield being ironic, knowing that hellish and not Godly plans are meant for Mina? Is Renfield’s humanity asserting itself despite his madness and subservience to Dracula?
How do you interpret this? Does that sound like a quiz question for your open-book test?
Van Helsing has proven to be quite the one for keeping secrets. And so often, so much secrecy has had bad or worse results.
Sigh, yet another example of a Van Helsing-ish aphorism. He would have appreciated, “You can lead a horse to water, but a pencil must be lead,” from those twentieth-century philosophers Mr. Stan Laurel and Mr. Oliver Hardy. However, it’s also a strong example of the little quirks that make Van Helsing such a unique and memorable character; truly no stock character here.
Unconsciously hardly seems the right descriptor. They are laying out a campaign against Dracula. They are doing so as a group, organizing and assigning duties, and described as “a sort of board or committee.” This is fluff that a keen-eyed editor might have changed.
The openness of Van Helsing’s mind might be something we’d question, but obviously he doesn’t!
The Powers of Dracula: At last, we get a concise depiction. He is one formidable character. Here Dracula is said to have the “cunning … of ages,” although in later chapters, Van Helsing will declare Dracula has a “child brain.” It may be, however, that Stoker attributes some mistakes and misteps to Dracula that were more likely Stoker’s own mistakes in plotting the novel.
Notice how Stoker spares us the cliché, “We might suffer a fate worse than death”?
Mina explains the symbolism of the hand nicely, though the metaphor gets mixed up when she not only has it speak but sing!
Their group is once again described in a businesslike manner. And while Van Helsing is cheerful, the others sense the grave seriousness of the situation, but are undeterred and move ahead with their “business.”
Perhaps Dracula is not at his best during daylight hours, but he is not powerless, either.
Ah, the elaboration of Dracula’s powers … and his weaknesses and limitations.
Sensory descriptions, subtle hints, epistolary reveals, mythic storytelling, moral judgments … Sto
ker has so many ways of engaging the reader!
Was it Dracula, or no? You, Dear Reader, must decide. Stoker adds so many of these hints throughout, making it fun for us but bewildering for the vampire hunters.
One more Hmmm moment. “Mina the Meek” doesn’t seem to fit the character as we have come to know her. Might she be planning to become a more active participant, rather than a motivating force, in the battle against Dracula?
We never find out because, thanks to Dracula’s maneuverings, Mina must play a dynamic role in his pursuit.
Might they have sent her to bed without supper had she not been Mina the Meek?
Granted, there is little reason to trust Renfield, but …
By denying Renfield, Seward ultimately dooms him—and nearly dooms Mina as well. Though Seward has grown as a person, he has not sufficiently improved his ability to judge character—or sincerity. And has not proven himself all that competent a mental health practitioner, either.
Again, Renfield is doomed. He will do Dracula’s bidding as long as Dracula condescends to bid him. And then, of no further use, he will be destroyed by the Count. A writer may wonder, are henchmen villains? Are they victims? Can they be three-dimensional, as Renfield has become?
And with the groundwork thus laid, Stoker ends the chapter. I trust I have pointed out a sufficient number of high/subtle dramatic cliff-hangers previously, but he doesn’t fail to leave us itching to turn the page …
Chapter 19
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
1 OCTOBER, 5 A.M.—I went with the party to the search with an easy mind, for I think I never saw 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:—