Chereads / THE DEVIL DRACULA / Chapter 3 - CHAPTER 3. THE JOURNAL

Chapter 3 - CHAPTER 3. THE JOURNAL

When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came

over me. I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and

peering out of every window I could find; but after a little the

conviction of my helplessness overpowered all other feelings.

When I look back after a few hours I think I must have been

mad for the time, for I behaved much as a rat does in a trap.

When, however, the conviction had come to me that I was

helpless I sat down quietly—as quietly as I have ever done

anything in my life—and began to think over what was best to

be done. I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite

conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use

making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am

imprisoned; and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his

own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him

fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to

keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my

eyes open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by

my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter

be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great

door below shut, and knew that the Count had returned. He did

not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my

own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but

only confirmed what I had all along thought—that there were no

servants in the house. When later I saw him through the chink of

the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining-room, I was

assured of it; for if he does himself all these menial offices,

surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them. This gave

me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have

been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that

brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it

mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only

holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at

Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What

meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of

the mountain ash? Bless that good, good woman who hung the

crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me

whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been

taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a

time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is

something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a

medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy

and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this

matter and try to make up my mind about it. In the meantime I

must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me

to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn theconversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to

awake his suspicion.

Midnight.—I have had a long talk with the Count. I asked him a

few questions on Transylvania history, and he warmed up to the

subject wonderfully. In his speaking of things and people, and

especially of battles, he spoke as if he had been present at

them all. This he afterwards explained by saying that to a boyar

the pride of his house and name is his own pride, that their glory

is his glory, that their fate is his fate. Whenever he spoke of his

house he always said "we," and spoke almost in the plural, like a

king speaking. I wish I could put down all he said exactly as he

said it, for to me it was most fascinating. It seemed to have in it

a whole history of the country. He grew excited as he spoke,

and walked about the room pulling his great white moustache

and grasping anything on which he laid his hands as though he

would crush it by main strength. One thing he said which I shall

put down as nearly as I can; for it tells in its way the story of his

race:—

"We Szekelys have a right to be proud, for in our veins flows the

blood of

many brave races who fought as the lion fights, for lordship.

Here, in the whirlpool of European races, the Ugric tribe bore

down from Iceland the fighting spirit which Thor and Wodin

gave them, which their Berserkers displayed to such fell intent.

on the seaboards of Europe, ay, and of Asia and Africa too, till

the peoples thought that the were-wolves themselves had come.

Here, too, when they came, they found the Huns, whose warlike

fury had swept the earth like a living flame, till the dying

peoples held that in their veins ran the blood of those old

witches, who, expelled from Scythia had mated with the devils

in the desert. Fools, fools! What devil or what witch was ever so

great as Attila, whose blood is in these veins?" He held up his

arms. "Is it a wonder that we were a conquering race; that we

were proud; that when the Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, the

Bulgar, or the Turk poured his thousands on our frontiers, we

drove them back? Is it strange that when Arpad and his legions

swept through the Hungarian fatherland he found us here when

he reached the frontier; that the Honfoglalas was completed

there? And when the Hungarian flood swept eastward, the

Szekelys were claimed as kindred by the victorious Magyars,

and to us for centuries was trusted the guarding of the frontier

of Turkey-land; ay, and more than that, endless duty of the

frontier guard, for, as the Turks say, 'water sleeps, and enemy is

sleepless.' Who more gladly than we throughout the Four

Nations received the 'bloody sword,' or at its warlike call flocked

quicker to the standard of the King? When was redeemed that

great shame of my nation, the shame of Cassova, when the

flags of the Wallach and the Magyar went down beneath the

Crescent? Who was it but one of my own race who as Voivode

crossed the Danube and beat the Turk on his own ground? This

was a Dracula indeed! Woe was it that his own unworthybrother, when he had fallen, sold his people to the Turk and

brought the shame of slavery on them! Was it not this Dracula,

indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age

again and again brought his forces over the great river into

Turkey-land; who, when he was beaten back, came again, and

again, and again, though he had to come alone from the bloody

field where his troops were being slaughtered, since he knew

that he alone could ultimately triumph! They said that he

thought only of himself. Bah! what good are peasants without a

leader? Where ends the war without a brain and heart to

conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohács, we threw

off the Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst

their leaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were not

free. Ah, young sir, the Szekelys—and the Dracula as their

heart's blood, their brains, and their swords—can boast a record

that mushroom growths like the Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs

can never reach. The warlike days are over. Blood is too

precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the

glories of the great races are as a tale that is told."

It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed.

(Mem., this

diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights,"

for everything has to break off at cockcrow—or like the ghost of

Hamlet's father.)12 May.—Let me begin with facts—bare, meagre facts, verified

by books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I

must not confuse them with experiences which will have to rest

on my own observation, or my memory of them. Last evening

when the Count came from his room he began by asking me

questions on legal matters and on the doing of certain kinds of

business. I had spent the day wearily over books, and, simply to

keep my mind occupied, went over some of the matters I had

been examined in at Lincoln's Inn. There was a certain method

in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them down in

sequence; the knowledge may somehow or some time be useful

to me.

First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or

more. I told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it

would not be wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in

one transaction, as only one could act at a time, and that to

change would be certain to militate against his interest. He

seemed thoroughly to understand, and went on to ask if there

would be any practical difficulty in having one man to attend,

say, to banking, and another to look after shipping, in case local

help were needed in a place far from the home of the banking

solicitor. I asked him to explain more fully, so that I might not

by any chance mislead him, so he said:—

"I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from

under the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is

far from London, buys for me through your good self my placeat London. Good! Now here let me say frankly, lest you should

think it strange that I have sought the services of one so far off

from London instead of some one resident there, that my

motive was that no local interest might be served save my wish

only; and as one of London residence might, perhaps, have

some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I went thus afield to

seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my interest.

Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship goods,

say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it not

be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in

these ports?" I answered that certainly it would be most easy,

but that we solicitors had a system of agency one for the other,

so that local work could be done locally on instruction from any

solicitor, so that the client, simply placing himself in the hands

of one man, could have his wishes carried out by him without

further trouble.

"But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not

so?"

"Of course," I replied; and "such is often done by men of

business, who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known

by any one person."

"Good!" he said, and then went on to ask about the means of

making consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of

all sorts of difficultiewhich might arise, but by forethought could be guarded

against. I explained all these things to him to the best of my

ability, and he certainly left me under the impression that he

would have made a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing

that he did not think of or foresee. For a man who was never in

the country, and who did not evidently do much in the way of

business, his knowledge and acumen were wonderful. When he

had satisfied himself on these points of which he had spoken,

and I had verified all as well as I could by the books available,

he suddenly stood up and said:—

"Have you written since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter

Hawkins, or to any other?" It was with some bitterness in my

heart that I answered that I had not, that as yet I had not seen

any opportunity of sending letters to anybody.

"Then write now, my young friend," he said, laying a heavy hand

on my shoulder: "write to our friend and to any other; and say, if

it will please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from

now."

"Do you wish me to stay so long?" I asked, for my heart grew

cold at the thought.

"I desire it much; nay, I will take no refusal. When your master,

employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on

his behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be

consulted. I have not stinted. Is it not so?"What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkins's

interest, not mine, and I had to think of him, not myself; and

besides, while Count Dracula was speaking, there was that in his

eyes and in his bearing which made me remember that I was a

prisoner, and that if I wished it I could have no choice. The

Count saw his victory in my bow, and his mastery in the trouble

of my face, for he began at once to use them, but in his own

smooth, resistless way:

"I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not discourse

of things other than business in your letters. It will doubtless

please your friends to know that you are well, and that you look

forward to getting home to them. Is it not so?" As he spoke he

handed me three sheets of note-paper and three envelopes.

They were all of the thinnest foreign post, and looking at them,

then at him, and noticing his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine

teeth lying over the red underlip, I understood as well as if he

had spoken that I should be careful what I wrote, for he would

be able to read it. So I determined to write only formal notes

now, but to write fully to Mr. Hawkins in secret, and also to Mina,

for to her I could write in shorthand, which would puzzle the

Count, if he did see it. When I had written my two letters I sat

quiet, reading a book whilst the Count wrote several notes,

referring as he wrote them to somebooks on his table. Then he took up my two and placed them

with his own, and put by his writing materials, after which, the

instant the door had closed behind him, I leaned over and

looked at the letters, which were face down on the table. I felt

no compunction in doing so, for under the circumstances I felt

that I should protect myself in every way I could.

One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billington, No. 7,

The Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna; the third

was to Coutts & Co., London, and the fourth to Herren Klopstock

& Billreuth, bankers, Buda- Pesth. The second and fourth were

unsealed. I was just about to look at them when I saw the door-

handle move. I sank back in my seat, having just had time to

replace the letters as they had been and to resume my book

before the Count, holding still another letter in his hand, entered

the room. He took up the letters on the table and stamped them

carefully, and then turning to me, said:—

"I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in

private this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish."

At the door he turned, and after a moment's pause said:—

"Let me advise you, my dear young friend—nay, let me warn

you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you

will not by any chance go to sleep in any other part of the

castle. It is old, and has many memories, and there are bad

dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep

now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your

own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe.But if you be not careful in this respect, then"—He finished his

speech in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if

he were washing them. I quite understood; my only doubt was

as to whether any dream could be more terrible than the

unnatural, horrible net of gloom and mystery which seemed

closing around me.

Later.—I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no

doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he

is not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed—I

imagine that my rest is thus freer from dreams; and there it

shall remain.

When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not

hearing any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to

where I could look out towards the South. There was some

sense of freedom in the vast expanse, inaccessible though it

was to me, as compared with the narrow darkness of the

courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I was indeed in prison,

and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, though it were of

the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on

me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and

am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows that there

is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place! I looked out

over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it

was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hillsbecame melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of

velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me; there

was peace and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from

the window my eye was caught by something moving a storey

below me, and somewhat to my left, where I imagined, from the

order of the rooms, that the windows of the Count's own room

would look out. The window at which I stood was tall and deep,

stone-mullioned, and though weatherworn, was still complete;

but it was evidently many a day since the case had been there.

I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully out.

What I saw was the Count's head coming out from the window.

I did not see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the

movement of his back and arms. In any case I could not

mistake the hands which I had had so many opportunities of

studying. I was at first interested and somewhat amused, for it

is wonderful how small a matter will interest and amuse a man

when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings changed to repulsion

and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge from the

window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over that

dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around

him like great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I

thought it was some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of

shadow; but I kept looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw

the fingers and toes grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear

of the mortar by the stress of years, and by thus using everyprojection and inequality move downwards with considerable

speed, just as a lizard moves along a wall.

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in

the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place

overpowering me; I am in fear—in awful fear—and there is no

escape for me; I am encompassed about with terrors that I

dare not think of....

15 May.—Once more have I seen the Count go out in his lizard

fashion. He moved downwards in a sidelong way, some hundred

feet down, and a good deal to the left. He vanished into some

hole or window. When his head had disappeared, I leaned out

to try and see more, but without avail—the distance was too

great to allow a proper angle of sight. I knew he had left the

castle now, and thought to use the opportunity to explore more

than I had dared to do as yet. I went back to the room, and

taking a lamp, tried all the doors. They were all locked, as I had

expected, and the locks were comparatively new; but I went

down the stone stairs to the hall where I had entered originally.

I found I could pull back the bolts easily enough and unhook

the great chains; but the door was locked, and the key was

gone! That key must be in the Count's room; I must watch

should his door be unlocked, so that I may get it and

escape. I went on to make a thorough examination of the

various stairs and passages, and to try the doors that openedfrom them. One or two small rooms near the hall were open, but

there was nothing to see in them except old furniture, dusty with

age and moth-eaten. At last, however, I found one door at the

top of the stairway which, though it seemed to be locked, gave

a little under pressure. I tried it harder, and found that it was

not really locked, but that the resistance came from the fact

that the hinges had fallen somewhat, and the heavy door rested

on the floor. Here was an opportunity which I might not have

again, so I exerted myself, and with many efforts forced it back

so that I could enter. I was now in a wing of the castle further to

the right than the rooms I knew and a storey lower down. From

the windows I could see that the suite of rooms lay along to the

south of the castle, the windows of the end room looking out

both west and south. On the latter side, as well as to the former,

there was a great precipice. The castle was built on the corner

of a great rock, so that on three sides it was quite impregnable,

and great windows were placed here where sling, or bow, or

culverin could not reach, and consequently light and comfort,

impossible to a position which had to be guarded, were secured.

To the west was a great valley, and then, rising far away, great

jagged mountain fastnesses, rising peak on peak, the sheer rock

studded with mountain ash and thorn, whose roots clung in

cracks and crevices and crannies of the stone. This was

evidently the portion of the castle occupied by the ladies in

bygone days, for the furniture had more air of comfort than any

I had seen. The windows were curtainless, and the yellow

moonlight, flooding in through the diamond panes, enabled oneto see even colours, whilst it softened the wealth of dust which

lay over all and disguised in some measure the ravages of time

and the moth. My lamp seemed to be of little effect in the

brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, for there

was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and

made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than living alone in

the rooms which I had come to hate from the presence of the

Count, and after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a

soft quietude come over me. Here I am, sitting at a little oak

table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with

much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love-letter, and

writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I

closed it last. It is nineteenth century up-to-date with a

vengeance. And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old

centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere

"modernity" cannot kill.

Later: the Morning of 16 May.—God preserve my sanity, for to

this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are

things of the past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to

hope for, that I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad

already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of

all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the

least dreadful to

me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be

only whilst I can serve his purpose. Great God! merciful God! Letme be calm, for out of that way lies madness indeed. I begin to

get new lights on certain things which have puzzled me. Up to

now I never quite knew what Shakespeare meant when he

made Hamlet say:—

"My tablets! quick, my tablets! 'Tis meet that I put it down," etc.,

for now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if

the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my

diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help to

soothe me.

The Count's mysterious warning frightened me at the time; it

frightens me more now when I think of it, for in future he has a

fearful hold upon me. I shall fear to doubt what he may say!

When I had written in my diary and had fortunately replaced

the book and pen in my pocket I felt sleepy. The Count's

warning came into my mind, but I took a pleasure in disobeying

it. The sense of sleep was upon me, and with it the obstinacy

which sleep brings as outrider. The soft moonlight soothed, and

the wide expanse without gave a sense of freedom which

refreshed me. I determined not to return to-night to the gloom-

haunted rooms, but to sleep here, where, of old, ladies had sat

and sung and lived sweet lives whilst their gentle breasts were

sad for their menfolk away in the midst of remorseless wars. I

drew a great couch out of its place near the corner, so that as I

lay, I could look at the lovely view to east and south, and

unthinking of and uncaring for the dust, composed myself forsleep. I suppose I must have fallen asleep; I hope so, but I fear,

for all that followed was startlingly real—so real that now sitting

here in the broad, full sunlight of the morning, I cannot in the

least believe that it was all sleep.

I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged in any way

since I came into it; I could see along the floor, in the brilliant

moonlight, my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the

long accumulation of dust. In the moonlight opposite me were

three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought

at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, for,

though the moonlight was behind them, they threw no shadow

on the floor. They came close to me, and looked at me for some

time, and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had

high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing

eyes that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the

pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with

great wavy masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires.

I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in

connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at

the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white

teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous

lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy,

some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in

my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with

those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day itshould meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.

They whispered together, and then they all three laughed—such

a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never

could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like

the intolerable, tingling sweetness of water- glasses when

played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head

coquettishly, and the other two urged her on. One said:—

"Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right to

begin." The other added:—

"He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all." I lay quiet,

looking out under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful

anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could

feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one

sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the

nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a

bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.

I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw

perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent

over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate

voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as

she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal,

till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the

scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp

teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the

range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my

throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound ofThere was no door near them, and they could not have passed

me without my noticing. They simply seemed to fade into the

rays of the moonlight and pass out through the window, for I

could see outside the dim, shadowy forms for a moment before

they entirely faded away.

Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious.