by Bram Stoker
CHAPTER IV.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL--_continued._
I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count musthave carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the subject, butcould not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be sure, there werecertain small evidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laidby in a manner which was not my habit. My watch was still unwound, andI am rigorously accustomed to wind it the last thing before going tobed, and many such details. But these things are no proof, for they mayhave been evidences that my mind was not as usual, and, from some causeor another, I had certainly been much upset. I must watch for proof.Of one thing I am glad: if it was that the Count carried me here andundressed me, he must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets areintact. I am sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which hewould not have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it. As I lookround this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is nowa sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awfulwomen, who were--who _are_--waiting to suck my blood.
_18 May._--I have been down to look at that room again in daylight, forI _must_ know the truth. When I got to the doorway at the top of thestairs, I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven against thejamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could see that thebolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is fastened from theinside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on this surmise.
_19 May._--I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked mein the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my workhere was nearly done and that I should start for home within a fewdays, another that I was starting on the next morning from the timeof the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrivedat Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the presentstate of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Countwhilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be toexcite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I knowtoo much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; myonly chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur whichwill give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of thatgathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman fromhim. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that mywriting now would ensure ease of mind to my friends; and he assuredme with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the laterletters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in casechance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him wouldhave been to create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to fall inwith his views, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters.He calculated a minute, and then said:--
"The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June29."
I know now the span of my life. God help me!
_28 May._--There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being ableto send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle, and areencamped in the courtyard. These Szgany are gipsies; I have notes ofthem in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world, thoughallied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are thousandsof them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost outside all law.They attach themselves as a rule to some great noble or _boyar_, andcall themselves by his name. They are fearless and without religion,save superstition, and they talk only their own varieties of the Romanytongue.
I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have themposted. I have already spoken to them through my window to begin anacquaintanceship. They took their hats off and made obeisance and manysigns, which, however, I could not understand any more than I couldtheir spoken language....
I have written the letters. Mina's is in shorthand, and I simplyask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained mysituation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It wouldshock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her.Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet know mysecret or the extent of my knowledge....
I have given the letters; I threw them through the bars of my windowwith a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them posted.The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed, and thenput them in his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to the study andbegan to read. As the Count did not come in, I have written here....
The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothestvoice as he opened two letters:--
"The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not whence theycome, I shall, of course, take care. See!"--he must have looked atit--"one is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other"--herehe caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, andthe dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly--"theother is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! Itis not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly heldletter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.Then he went on:--
"The letter to Hawkins--that I shall, of course, send on, since it isyours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend, thatunknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover it again?" Heheld out the letter to me, and with a courteous bow handed me a cleanenvelope. I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence. Whenhe went out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minutelater I went over and tried it, and the door was locked.
When, an hour or two after, the Count came quietly into the room, hiscoming wakened me, for I had gone to sleep on the sofa. He was verycourteous and very cheery in his manner, and seeing that I had beensleeping, he said:
"So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest rest.I may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are manylabours to me; but you will sleep, I pray." I passed to my room andwent to bed, and, strange to say, slept without dreaming. Despair hasits own calms.
_31 May._--This morning when I woke I thought I would provide myselfwith some paper and envelopes from my bag and keep them in my pocket,so that I might write in case I should get an opportunity; but again asurprise, again a shock!
Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memorandarelating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact, allthat might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. I sat andpondered a while, and then some thought occurred to me, and I madesearch of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had placed myclothes.
The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat andrug; I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like some newscheme of villainy....
_17 June._--This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bedcudgelling my brains, I heard without a cracking of whips and poundingand scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the courtyard.With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two greatleiter-waggons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and at the head ofeach pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great, nail-studded belt, dirtysheepskin, and high boots. They had also their long staves in hand. Iran to the door, intending to descend and try and join them throughthe main hall, as I thought that way might be opened for them. Again ashock: my door was fastened on the outside.
Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked up at mestupidly and pointed, but just then the "hetman" of the Szgany cameout, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at whichthey laughed. Henceforth, no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonisedentreaty, would make them even look at me. They resolutely turned away.The leiter-waggons contained great, square boxes, with handles of thickrope; these were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovakshandled them, and by their resonance as they were roughly moved. Whenthey were all unloaded and backed in a great heap in one corner of theyard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany, and spitting onit for luck, lazily went each to his horse's head. Shortly afterwards Iheard the cracking of their whips die away in the distance.
_24 June, before morn
ing._--Last night the Count left me early, andlocked himself into his own room. As soon as I dared, I ran up thewinding stair, and looked out of the window which opened south. Ithought I would watch for the Count, for there is something going on.The Szgany are quartered somewhere in the castle, and are doing work ofsome kind. I know it, for now and then I hear a far-away, muffled soundas of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be to the end ofsome ruthless villainy.
I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I sawsomething coming out of the Count's window. I drew back and watchedcarefully, and saw the whole man emerge. It was a new shock to meto find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn whilsttravelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which Ihad seen the women take away. There could be no doubt as to his quest,and in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme of evil: that hewill allow others to see me, as they think, so that he may both leaveevidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages posting my ownletters, and that any wickedness which he may do shall by the localpeople be attributed to me.
It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am shutup here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of the lawwhich is even a criminal's right and consolation.
I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time satdoggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there were somequaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They werelike the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gatheredin clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched them with a senseof soothing, and a sort of calm stole over me. I leaned back in theembrasure in a more comfortable position, so that I could enjoy morefully the aerial gambolling.
Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewherefar below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder itseemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take newshapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myselfstruggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soulwas struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving toanswer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! Quicker and quicker dancedthe dust, and the moonbeams seemed to quiver as they went by me intothe mass of gloom beyond. More and more they gathered till they seemedto take dim phantom shapes. And then I started, broad awake and in fullpossession of my senses, and ran screaming from the place. The phantomshapes, which were becoming gradually materialised from the moonbeams,were those of the three ghostly women to whom I was doomed. I fled, andfelt somewhat safer in my own room, where there was no moonlight andwhere the lamp was burning brightly.
When a couple of hours had passed I heard something stirring in theCount's room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed; andthen there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me. Witha beating heart, I tried the door; but I was locked in my prison, andcould do nothing. I sat down and simply cried.
As I sat I heard a sound in the courtyard without--the agonised cry ofa woman. I rushed to the window, and throwing it up, peered out betweenthe bars. There, indeed, was a woman with dishevelled hair, holding herhands over her heart as one distressed with running. She was leaningagainst a corner of the gateway. When she saw my face at the window shethrew herself forward, and shouted in a voice laden with menace:--
"Monster, give me my child!"
She threw herself on her knees, and raising up her hands, cried thesame words in tones which wrung my heart. Then she tore her hairand beat her breast, and abandoned herself to all the violences ofextravagant emotion. Finally, she threw herself forward, and, though Icould not see her, I could hear the beating of her naked hands againstthe door.
Somewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, I heard the voice ofthe Count calling in his harsh, metallic whisper. His call seemed tobe answered from far and wide by the howling of wolves. Before manyminutes had passed a pack of them poured, like a pent-up dam whenliberated, through the wide entrance into the courtyard.
There was no cry from the woman, and the howling of the wolves was butshort. Before long they streamed away singly, licking their lips.
I could not pity her, for I knew now what had become of her child, andshe was better dead.
What shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape from this dreadfulthrall of night and gloom and fear?
_25 June, morning._--No man knows till he has suffered from the nighthow sweet and how dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. Whenthe sun grew so high this morning that it struck the top of the greatgateway opposite my window, the high spot which it touched seemed tome as if the dove from the ark had lighted there. My fear fell from meas if it had been a vaporous garment which dissolved in the warmth. Imust take action of some sort while the courage of the day is upon me.Last night one of my post-dated letters went to post, the first of thatfatal series which is to blot out the very traces of my existence fromthe earth.
Let me not think of it. Action!
It has always been at night-time that I have been molested orthreatened, or in some way in danger or in fear. I have not yet seenthe Count in the daylight. Can it be that he sleeps when others wake,that he may be awake whilst they sleep? If I could only get into hisroom! But there is no possible way. The door is always locked, no wayfor me.
Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where his body has gonewhy may not another body go? I have seen him myself crawl from hiswindow; why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window? Thechances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shallrisk it. At the worst it can only be death; and a man's death is not acalf's, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me. God help mein my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend andsecond father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina!
_Same day, later._--I have made the effort, and, God helping me, havecome safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in order.I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on the southside, and at once got outside on the narrow ledge of stone which runsround the building on this side. The stones were big and roughly cut,and the mortar had by process of time been washed away between them.I took off my boots, and ventured out on the desperate way. I lookeddown once, so as to make sure that a sudden glimpse of the awful depthwould not overcome me, but after that kept my eyes away from it. Iknew pretty well the direction and distance of the Count's window, andmade for it as well as I could, having regard to the opportunitiesavailable. I did not feel dizzy--I suppose I was too excited--andthe time seemed ridiculously short till I found myself standing onthe windowsill and trying to raise up the sash. I was filled withagitation, however, when I bent down and slid feet foremost in throughthe window. Then I looked round for the Count, but, with surprise andgladness, made a discovery. The room was empty! It was barely furnishedwith odd things, which seemed to have never been used; the furniturewas something the same style as that in the south rooms, and wascovered with dust. I looked for the key, but it was not in the lock,and I could not find it anywhere. The only thing I found was a greatheap of gold in one corner--gold of all kinds, Roman, and British, andAustrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkish money, covered with afilm of dust, as though it had lain long in the ground. None of it thatI noticed was less than three hundred years old. There were also chainsand ornaments, some jewelled, but all of them old and stained.
At one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it, for, since Icould not find the key of the room or the key of the outer door, whichwas the main object of my search, I must make further examination, orall my efforts would be in vain. It was open, and led through a stonepassage to a circular stairway, which went steeply down. I descended,minding carefully where I went, for the stairs were dark, being onlylit by loopholes in the heavy masonry. At the bottom there was a dark,tunnel-like passage, through which came a deathly, sickly odour, theodour of old earth newly turned. As I went through the passage thesmell grew closer and heavier. At last I pulled open a heavy doorwhich stood ajar, and
found myself in an old, ruined chapel, which hadevidently been used as a graveyard. The roof was broken, and in twoplaces were steps leading to vaults, but the ground had recently beendug over, and the earth placed in great wooden boxes, manifestly thosewhich had been brought by the Slovaks. There was nobody about, and Imade search for any further outlet, but there was none. Then I wentover every inch of the ground, so as not to lose a chance. I went downeven into the vaults, where the dim light struggled, although to do sowas dread to my very soul. Into two of these I went, but saw nothingexcept fragments of old coffins and piles of dust; in the third,however, I made a discovery.
There, in one of the great boxes, of which there were fifty in all, ona pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count! He was either dead or asleep,I could not say which--for the eyes were open and stony, but withoutthe glassiness of death--and the cheeks had the warmth of life throughall their pallor, and the lips were as red as ever. But there was nosign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no beating of the heart. I bentover him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in vain. He could nothave lain there long, for the earthy smell would have passed away ina few hours. By the side of the box was its cover, pierced with holeshere and there. I thought he might have the keys on him, but when Iwent to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them, dead though they were,such a look of hate, though unconscious of me or my presence, thatI fled from the place, and leaving the Count's room by the window,crawled again up the castle wall. Regaining my own chamber, I threwmyself panting upon the bed and tried to think....
_29 June._--To-day is the date of my last letter, and the Count hastaken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leavethe castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down thewall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, thatI might destroy him; but I fear that no weapon wrought alone by man'shand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait to see him return,for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came back to the library,and read there till I fell asleep.
I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man canlook as he said:--
"To-morrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your beautifulEngland, I to some work which may have such an end that we may nevermeet. Your letter home has been despatched; to-morrow I shall not behere, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the morning comethe Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and also comesome Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, andshall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovinato Bistritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at CastleDracula." I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity.Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it inconnection with such a monster, so I asked him point-blank:--
"Why may I not go to-night?"
"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a mission."
"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." Hesmiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there wassome trick behind his smoothness. He said:--
"And your baggage?"
"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time."
The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rubmy eyes, it seemed so real:--
"You English have a saying which is close to my heart, for its spiritis that which rules our _boyars_: 'Welcome the coming, speed theparting guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shallyou wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going,and that you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity, he,with the lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenlyhe stopped.
"Hark!"
Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if thesound sprang up at the raising of his hand, just as the music of agreat orchestra seems to leap under the baton of the conductor. After apause of a moment, he proceeded in his stately way, to the door, drewback the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to drawit open.
To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously Ilooked all round, but could see no key of any kind.
As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grewlouder and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and theirblunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. Iknew that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. Withsuch allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still thedoor continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in thegap. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and the meansof my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation.There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for theCount, and as a last chance I cried out:--
"Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face withmy hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep ofhis powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great boltsclanged and echoed through the hall as they shot back into theirplaces.
In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I wentto my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing hishand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smilethat Judas in hell might be proud of.
When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard awhispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my earsdeceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:--
"Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait. Havepatience. To-morrow night, to-morrow night, is yours!" There was a low,sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and sawwithout the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared theyall joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.
I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. Is it then so nearthe end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I amdear!
_30 June, morning._--These may be the last words I ever write in thisdiary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myselfon my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find meready.
At last I felt that subtle change in the air and knew that the morninghad come. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I felt that I was safe.With a glad heart, I opened my door and ran down the hall. I had seenthat the door was unlocked and now escape was before me. With handsthat trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and drew back themassive bolts.
But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled and pulledat the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in itscasement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been locked after I leftthe Count.
Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and Idetermined then and there to scale the wall again and gain the Count'sroom. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice ofevils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window and scrambleddown the wall, as before, into the Count's room. It was empty, butthat was as I expected. I could not see a key anywhere, but the heapof gold remained. I went through the door in the corner and down thewinding stair and along the dark passage to the old chapel. I knew nowwell enough where to find the monster I sought.
The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but thelid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready intheir places to be hammered home. I knew I must search the body forthe key, so I raised the lid and laid it back against the wall; andthen I saw something which filled my very soul with horror. There laythe Count, but looking as if his youth had been half-renewed, for thewhite hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheekswere fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouthwas redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, whichtrickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck.Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for thelids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the wholeawful creature were simply gorged with blood; he lay like a filthyleech, exhausted with his repletio
n. I shuddered as I bent over totouch him, and every sense in me revolted at the contact; but I hadto search, or I was lost. The coming night might see my own body abanquet in a similar way to those horrid three. I felt all over thebody, but no sign could I find of the key. Then I stopped and lookedat the Count. There was a mocking smile on the bloated face whichseemed to drive me mad. This was the being I was helping to transferto London, where, perhaps for centuries to come, he might, amongst itsteeming millions, satiate his lust for blood, and create a new and everwidening circle of semi-demons to batten on the helpless. The verythought drove me mad. A terrible desire came upon me to rid the worldof such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized ashovel which the workmen had been using to fill the cases, and liftingit high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful face. But as Idid so the head turned, and the eyes fell full upon me, with all theirblaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to paralyse me, and theshovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely making adeep gash above the forehead. The shovel fell from my hand across thebox, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caught the edgeof the lid, which fell over again, and hid the horrid thing from mysight. The last glimpse I had was of the bloated face, blood-stainedand fixed with a grin of malice which would have held its own in thenethermost hell.
I thought and thought what should be my next move, but my brain seemedon fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling growing over me. AsI waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song sung by merry voicescoming closer, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheels andthe cracking of whips; the Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Counthad spoken were coming. With a last look round and at the box whichcontained the vile body, I ran from the place and gained the Count'sroom, determined to rush out at the moment the door should be opened.With strained ears I listened, and heard downstairs the grinding ofthe key in the great lock and the falling back of the heavy door.There must have been some other means of entry, or some one had a keyfor one of the locked doors. Then there came the sound of many feettramping and dying away in some passage which sent up a clanging echo.I turned to run down again towards the vault, where I might find thenew entrance; but at that moment there seemed to come a violent puff ofwind, and the door to the winding stair blew to with a shock that setthe dust from the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I foundthat it was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net ofdoom was closing round me more closely.
As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many tramping feetand the crash of weights being set down heavily, doubtless the boxes,with their freight of earth. There is a sound of hammering; it is thebox being nailed down. Now I can hear the heavy feet tramping againalong the hall, with many other idle feet coming behind them.
The door is shut, and the chains rattle; there is a grinding of the keyin the lock; I can hear the key withdrawn; then another door opens andshuts; I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.
Hark! in the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy wheels,the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they pass into thedistance.
I am alone in the castle with those awful women. Faugh! Mina is awoman, and there is naught in common. They are devils of the Pit!
I shall not remain alone with them; I shall try to scale the castlewall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of the goldwith me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this dreadfulplace.
And then away for home! away to the quickest and nearest train! awayfrom this cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil and hischildren still walk with earthly feet!
At least God's mercy is better than that of these monsters, and theprecipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep--as a man.Good-bye, all! Mina!