"6 September.
"My dear Art,—
"My news to-day is not so good. Lucy this morning had gone
back a bit. There is, however, one good thing which has arisen
from it; Mrs. Westenra was naturally anxious concerning Lucy,
and has consulted me professionally about her. I took
advantage of the opportunity, and told her that my old master,
Van Helsing, the great specialist, was coming to stay with me,
and that I would put her in his charge conjointly with myself; so
now we can come and go without alarming her unduly, for a
shock to her would mean sudden death, and this, in Lucy's weak
condition, might be disastrous to her. We are hedged in with
difficulties, all of us, my poor old fellow; but, please God, we
shall come through them all right. If any need I shall write, so
that, if you do not hear from me, take it for granted that I am
simply waiting for news. In haste
Yours ever, "John Seward."
Dr. Seward's Diary.7 September.—The first thing Van Helsing said to me when
we met at Liverpool Street was:—
"Have you said anything to our young friend the lover of her?"
"No," I said. "I waited till I had seen you, as I said in my
telegram. I wrote him a letter simply telling him that you were
coming, as Miss Westenra was not so well, and that I should let
him know if need be."
"Right, my friend," he said, "quite right! Better he not know as
yet; perhaps he shall never know. I pray so; but if it be needed,
then he shall know all. And, my good friend John, let me caution
you. You deal with the madmen. All men are mad in some way
or the other; and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your
madmen, so deal with God's madmen, too—the rest of the
world. You tell not your madmen what you do nor why you do it;
you tell them not what you think. So you shall keep knowledge in
its place, where it may rest—where it may gather its kind around
it and breed. You and I shall keep as yet what we know here,
and here." He touched me on the heart and on the forehead,
and then touched himself the same way. "I have for myself
thoughts at the present. Later I shall unfold to you."
"Why not now?" I asked. "It may do some good; we may arrive
at some decision." He stopped and looked at me, and said:—
"My friend John, when the corn is grown, even before it has
ripened— while the milk of its mother-earth is in him, and the
sunshine has not yet begun to paint him with his gold, thehusbandman he pull the ear and rub him between his rough
hands, and blow away the green chaff, and say to you:
'Look! he's good corn; he will make good crop when the time
comes.' " I did not see the application, and told him so. For
reply he reached over and took my ear in his hand and pulled it
playfully, as he used long ago to do at lectures, and said: "The
good husbandman tell you so then because he knows, but not
till then. But you do not find the good husbandman dig up his
planted corn to see if he grow; that is for the children who play
at husbandry, and not for those who take it as of the work of
their life. See you now, friend John? I have sown my corn, and
Nature has her work to do in making it sprout; if he sprout at all,
there's some promise; and I wait till the ear begins to swell." He
broke off, for he evidently saw that I understood. Then he went
on, and very gravely:—
"You were always a careful student, and your case-book was
ever more full than the rest. You were only student then; now
you are master, and I trust that good habit have not fail.
Remember, my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory,
and we should not trust the weaker. Even if you have not kept
the good practise, let me tell you that this case of our dear miss
is one that may be—mind, I say may be—of such interest to us
and others that all the rest may not make him kick the beam, as
your peoples say. Take then good note of it. Nothing is too
small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts andsurmises. Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true
you guess. We learn from failure, not from success!"
When I described Lucy's symptoms—the same as before, but
infinitely more marked—he looked very grave, but said nothing.
He took with him a bag in which were many instruments and
drugs, "the ghastly paraphernalia of our beneficial trade," as he
once called, in one of his lectures, the equipment of a professor
of the healing craft. When we were shown in, Mrs. Westenra met
us. She was alarmed, but not nearly so much as I expected to
find her. Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained
that even death has some antidote to its own terrors. Here, in a
case where any shock may prove fatal, matters are so ordered
that, from some cause or other, the things not personal—even
the terrible change in her daughter to whom she is so
attached—do not seem to reach her. It is something like the
way Dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of
some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that which it
would otherwise harm by contact. If this be an ordered
selfishness, then we should pause before we condemn any one
for the vice of egoism, for there may be deeper root for its
causes than we have knowledge of.
I used my knowledge of this phase of spiritual pathology, and
laid down a rule that she should not be present with Lucy or
think of her illness more than was absolutely required. She
assented readily, so readily that I saw again the hand of Nature
fighting for life. Van Helsing and I were shown up to Lucy'sroom. If I was shocked when I saw her yesterday, I was
horrified when I saw
her to-day. She was ghastly, chalkily pale; the red seemed to
have gone even from her lips and gums, and the bones of her
face stood out prominently; her breathing was painful to see or
hear. Van Helsing's face grew set as marble, and his eyebrows
converged till they almost touched over his nose. Lucy lay
motionless, and did not seem to have strength to speak, so for
a while we were all silent. Then Van Helsing beckoned to me,
and we went gently out of the room. The instant we had closed
the door he stepped quickly along the passage to the next door,
which was open. Then he pulled me quickly in with him and
closed the door. "My God!" he said; "this is dreadful. There is no
time to be lost. She will die for sheer want of blood to keep the
heart's action as it should be. There must be transfusion of
blood at once. Is it you or me?"
"I am younger and stronger, Professor. It must be me."
"Then get ready at once. I will bring up my bag. I am prepared."
I went downstairs with him, and as we were going there was a
knock at the hall-door. When we reached the hall the maid had
just opened the door, and Arthur was stepping quickly in. He
rushed up to me, saying in an eager whisper:—
"Jack, I was so anxious. I read between the lines of your letter,
and have been in an agony. The dad was better, so I ran downhere to see for myself. Is not that gentleman Dr. Van Helsing? I
am so thankful to you, sir, for coming." When first the
Professor's eye had lit upon him he had been angry at his
interruption at such a time; but now, as he took in his stalwart
proportions and recognised the strong young manhood which
seemed to emanate from him, his eyes gleamed. Without a
pause he said to him gravely as he held out his hand:
—
"Sir, you have come in time. You are the lover of our dear miss.
She is bad, very, very bad. Nay, my child, do not go like that."
For he suddenly grew pale and sat down in a chair almost
fainting. "You are to help her. You can do more than any that
live, and your courage is your best help."
"What can I do?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me, and I shall do
it. My life is hers, and I would give the last drop of blood in my
body for her." The Professor has a strongly humorous side, and
I could from old knowledge detect a trace of its origin in his
answer:—
"My young sir, I do not ask so much as that—not the last!"
"What shall I do?" There was fire in his eyes, and his open nostril
quivered with intent. Van Helsing slapped him on the shoulder.
"Come!" he said. "You are a man, and it is a man we want. You
are better than me, better than my friend John." Arthur looked
bewildered, and the Professor went on by explaining in a kindly
way:—"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she
must have or die. My friend John and I have consulted; and we
are about to perform what we call transfusion of blood—to
transfer from full veins of one to the empty veins which pine for
him. John was to give his blood, as he is the more young and
strong than me"—here Arthur took my hand and wrung it hard
in silence
—"but, now you are here, you are more good than us, old or
young, who toil much in the world of thought. Our nerves are not
so calm and our blood not so bright than yours!" Arthur turned
to him and said:—
"If you only knew how gladly I would die for her you would
understand
——"
He stopped, with a sort of choke in his voice.
"Good boy!" said Van Helsing. "In the not-so-far-off you will be
happy that you have done all for her you love. Come now and
be silent. You shall kiss her once before it is done, but then you
must go; and you must leave at my sign. Say no word to
Madame; you know how it is with her! There must be no shock;
any knowledge of this would be one. Come!"
We all went up to Lucy's room. Arthur by direction remained
outside. Lucy turned her head and looked at us, but saidnothing. She was not asleep, but she was simply too weak to
make the effort. Her eyes spoke to us; that was all. Van Helsing
took some things from his bag and laid them on a little table
out of sight. Then he mixed a narcotic, and coming over to the
bed, said cheerily:—
"Now, little miss, here is your medicine. Drink it off, like a good
child. See, I lift you so that to swallow is easy. Yes." She had
made the effort with success.
It astonished me how long the drug took to act. This, in fact,
marked the extent of her weakness. The time seemed endless
until sleep began to flicker in her eyelids. At last, however, the
narcotic began to manifest its potency; and she fell into a deep
sleep. When the Professor was satisfied he called Arthur into the
room, and bade him strip off his coat. Then he added: "You may
take that one little kiss whiles I bring over the table. Friend
John, help to me!" So neither of us looked whilst he bent over
her.
Van Helsing turning to me, said:
"He is so young and strong and of blood so pure that we need
not defibrinate it."
Then with swiftness, but with absolute method, Van Helsing
performed the operation. As the transfusion went on something
like life seemed to come back to poor Lucy's cheeks, and
through Arthur's growing pallor the joy of his faceseemed absolutely to shine. After a bit I began to grow anxious,
for the loss of blood was telling on Arthur, strong man as he
was. It gave me an idea of what a terrible strain Lucy's system
must have undergone that what weakened Arthur only partially
restored her. But the Professor's face was set, and he stood
watch in hand and with his eyes fixed now on the patient and
now on Arthur. I could hear my own heart beat. Presently he
said in a soft voice: "Do not stir an instant. It is enough. You
attend him; I will look to her." When all was over I could see how
much Arthur was weakened. I dressed the wound and took his
arm to bring him away, when Van Helsing spoke without turning
round—the man seems to have eyes in the back of his head:—
"The brave lover, I think, deserve another kiss, which he shall
have presently." And as he had now finished his operation, he
adjusted the pillow to the patient's head. As he did so the
narrow black velvet band which she seems always to wear
round her throat, buckled with an old diamond buckle which her
lover had given her, was dragged a little up, and showed a red
mark on her throat. Arthur did not notice it, but I could hear the
deep hiss of indrawn breath which is one of Van Helsing's ways
of betraying emotion. He said nothing at the moment, but
turned to me, saying: "Now take down our brave young lover,
give him of the port wine, and let him lie down a while. He must
then go home and rest, sleep much and eat much, that he may
be recruited of what he has so given to his love. He must not
stay here. Hold! a moment. I may take it, sir, that you areanxious of result. Then bring it with you that in all ways the
operation is successful. You have saved her life this time, and
you can go home and rest easy in mind that all that can be is. I
shall tell her all when she is well; she shall love you none the less
for what you have done. Good-bye."
When Arthur had gone I went back to the room. Lucy was
sleeping gently, but her breathing was stronger; I could see the
counterpane move as her breast heaved. By the bedside sat
Van Helsing, looking at her intently. The velvet band again
covered the red mark. I asked the Professor in a whisper:—
"What do you make of that mark on her throat?" "What do you
make of it?"
"I have not examined it yet," I answered, and then and there
proceeded to loose the band. Just over the external jugular vein
there were two punctures, not large, but not wholesome-looking.
There was no sign of disease, but the edges were white and
worn-looking, as if by some trituration. It at once occurred to
me that this wound, or whatever it was, might be the means of
that manifest loss of blood; but I abandoned the idea as soon
as formed, for such a thing could not be. The whole bed would
have been drenched to a scarlet with the blood which the girl
must have lost to leave such a pallor as she had before
the transfusion.
"Well?" said Van Helsing."Well," said I, "I can make nothing of it." The Professor stood
up. "I must go back to Amsterdam to-night," he said. "There are
books and things there which I want. You must remain here all
the night, and you must not let your sight pass from her."
"Shall I have a nurse?" I asked.
"We are the best nurses, you and I. You keep watch all night;
see that she is well fed, and that nothing disturbs her. You must
not sleep all the night. Later on we can sleep, you and I. I shall
be back as soon as possible. And then we may begin."
"May begin?" I said. "What on earth do you mean?"
"We shall see!" he answered, as he hurried out. He came back a
moment later and put his head inside the door and said with
warning finger held up:—
"Remember, she is your charge. If you leave her, and harm
befall, you shall not sleep easy hereafter!"
Dr. Seward's Diary—continued.
8 September.—I sat up all night with Lucy. The opiate
worked itself off towards dusk, and she waked naturally; she
looked a different being from what she had been before the
operation. Her spirits even were good, and she was full of a
happy vivacity, but I could see evidences of the absolute
prostration which she had undergone. When I told Mrs.
Westenra that Dr. Van Helsing had directed that I should sit up
with her she almost pooh-poohed the idea, pointing out herdaughter's renewed strength and excellent spirits. I was firm,
however, and made preparations for my long vigil. When her
maid had prepared her for the night I came in, having in the
meantime had supper, and took a seat by the bedside. She did
not in any way make objection, but looked at me gratefully
whenever I caught her eye. After a long spell she seemed
sinking off to sleep, but with an effort seemed to pull herself
together and shook it off. This was repeated several times, with
greater effort and with shorter pauses as the time moved on. It
was apparent that she did not want to sleep, so I tackled the
subject at once:—
"You do not want to go to sleep?" "No; I am afraid."
"Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boon we all crave for."
"Ah, not if you were like me—if sleep was to you a presage of
horror!"
"A presage of horror! What on earth do you mean?"
"I don't know; oh, I don't know. And that is what is so terrible. All
this weakness comes to me in sleep; until I dread the very
thought."
"But, my dear girl, you may sleep to-night. I am here watching
you, and I can promise that nothing will happen.""Ah, I can trust you!" I seized the opportunity, and said: "I
promise you that if I see any evidence of bad dreams I will
wake you at once."
"You will? Oh, will you really? How good you are to me. Then I
will sleep!" And almost at the word she gave a deep sigh of
relief, and sank back, asleep.
All night long I watched by her. She never stirred, but slept on
and on in a deep, tranquil, life-giving, health-giving sleep. Her
lips were slightly parted, and her breast rose and fell with the
regularity of a pendulum. There was a smile on her face, and it
was evident that no bad dreams had come to disturb her peace
of mind.
In the early morning her maid came, and I left her in her care
and took myself back home, for I was anxious about many
things. I sent a short wire to Van Helsing and to Arthur, telling
them of the excellent result of the operation. My own work, with
its manifold arrears, took me all day to clear off; it was dark
when I was able to inquire about my zoöphagous patient. The
report was good; he had been quite quiet for the past day and
night. A telegram came from Van Helsing at Amsterdam whilst I
was at dinner, suggesting that I should be at Hillingham to-
night, as it might be well to be at hand, and stating that he was
leaving by the night mail and would join me early in the
morning.9 September.—I was pretty tired and worn out when I got to
Hillingham. For two nights I had hardly had a wink of sleep, and
my brain was beginning to feel that numbness which marks
cerebral exhaustion. Lucy was up and in cheerful spirits. When
she shook hands with me she looked sharply in my face and
said:—
"No sitting up to-night for you. You are worn out. I am quite well
again; indeed, I am; and if there is to be any sitting up, it is I
who will sit up with you." I would not argue the point, but went
and had my supper. Lucy came with me, and, enlivened by her
charming presence, I made an excellent meal, and had a couple
of glasses of the more than excellent port. Then Lucy took me
upstairs, and showed me a room next her own, where a cozy fire
was burning. "Now," she said, "you must stay here. I shall leave
this door open and my door too. You can lie on the sofa for I
know that nothing would induce any of you doctors to go to bed
whilst there is a patient above the horizon. If I want anything I
shall call out, and you can come to me at once." I could not
but acquiesce, for I was "dog-tired," and could not have sat up
had I tried. So, on her renewing her promise to call me if she
should want anything, I lay on the sofa, and forgot all about
everything.
Lucy Westenra's Diary.9 September.—I feel so happy to-night. I have been so
miserably weak, that to be able to think and move about is like
feeling sunshine after a long spell of east wind out of a steel
sky. Somehow Arthur feels very, very close to me. I seem to feel
his presence warm about me. I suppose it is that sickness and
weakness are selfish things and turn our inner eyes and
sympathy on ourselves, whilst health and strength give Love
rein, and in thought and feeling he can wander where he wills. I
know where my thoughts are. If Arthur only knew! My dear, my
dear, your ears must tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking. Oh,
the blissful rest of last night! How I slept, with that dear, good
Dr. Seward watching me. And to-night I shall not fear to sleep,
since he is close at hand and within call. Thank everybody for
being so good to me! Thank God! Good-night, Arthur.
Dr. Seward's Diary.
10 September.—I was conscious of the Professor's hand on
my head, and started awake all in a second. That is one of the
things that we learn in an asylum, at any rate.
"And how is our patient?"
"Well, when I left her, or rather when she left me," I answered.
"Come, let us see," he said. And together we went into the room.
The blind was down, and I went over to raise it gently, whilst
Van Helsing stepped, with his soft, cat-like tread, over to the
bed.As I raised the blind, and the morning sunlight flooded the
room, I heard the Professor's low hiss of inspiration, and
knowing its rarity, a deadly fear shot through my heart. As I
passed over he moved back, and his exclamation of horror,
"Gott in Himmel!" needed no enforcement from his agonised
face. He raised his hand and pointed to the bed, and his iron
face was drawn and ashen white. I felt my knees begin to
tremble.
There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more
horribly white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were
white, and the gums seemed to have shrunken back from the
teeth, as we sometimes see in a corpse after a prolonged illness.
Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger, but the instinct of
his life and all the long years of habit stood to him, and he put it
down again softly. "Quick!" he said. "Bring the brandy." I flew to
the dining- room, and returned with the decanter. He wetted the
poor white lips with it,
and together we rubbed palm and wrist and heart. He felt her
heart, and after a few moments of agonising suspense said:—
"It is not too late. It beats, though but feebly. All our work is
undone; we must begin again. There is no young Arthur here
now; I have to call on you yourself this time, friend John." As he
spoke, he was dipping into his bag and producing the
instruments for transfusion; I had taken off my coat and rolledup my shirt-sleeve. There was no possibility of an opiate just at
present, and no need of one; and so, without a moment's delay,
we began the operation. After a time—it did not seem a short
time either, for the draining away of one's blood, no matter how
willingly it be given, is a terrible feeling—Van Helsing held up a
warning finger. "Do not stir," he said, "but I fear that with
growing strength she may wake; and that would make danger,
oh, so much danger. But I shall precaution take. I shall give
hypodermic injection of morphia." He proceeded then, swiftly
and deftly, to carry out his intent. The effect on Lucy was not
bad, for the faint seemed to merge subtly into the narcotic
sleep. It was with a feeling of personal pride that I could see a
faint tinge of colour steal back into the pallid cheeks and lips.
No man knows, till he experiences it, what it is to feel his own
life-blood drawn away into the veins of the woman he loves.
The Professor watched me critically. "That will do," he said.
"Already?" I remonstrated. "You took a great deal more from
Art." To which he smiled a sad sort of smile as he replied:—
"He is her lover, her fiancé. You have work, much work, to do for
her and for others; and the present will suffice."
When we stopped the operation, he attended to Lucy, whilst I
applied digital pressure to my own incision. I laid down, whilst I
waited his leisure to attend to me, for I felt faint and a little sick.
By-and-by he bound up my wound, and sent me downstairs to
get a glass of wine for myself. As I was leaving the room, he
came after me, and half whispered:—"Mind, nothing must be said of this. If our young lover should
turn up unexpected, as before, no word to him. It would at once
frighten him and enjealous him, too. There must be none. So!"
When I came back he looked at me carefully, and then said:—
"You are not much the worse. Go into the room, and lie on your
sofa, and rest awhile; then have much breakfast, and come here
to me."
I followed out his orders, for I knew how right and wise they
were. I had done my part, and now my next duty was to keep
up my strength. I felt very weak, and in the weakness lost
something of the amazement at what had occurred. I fell asleep
on the sofa, however, wondering over and over again
how Lucy had made such a retrograde movement, and how she
could have been drained of so much blood with no sign
anywhere to show for it. I think I must have continued my
wonder in my dreams, for, sleeping and waking, my thoughts
always came back to the little punctures in her throat and the
ragged, exhausted appearance of their edges—tiny though they
were.
Lucy slept well into the day, and when she woke she was fairly
well and strong, though not nearly so much so as the day
before. When Van Helsing had seen her, he went out for a walk,
leaving me in charge, with strict injunctions that I was not to"Take care you do not disturb it; and even if the room feel close,
do not to- night open the window or the door."
"I promise," said Lucy, "and thank you both a thousand times
for all your kindness to me! Oh, what have I done to be blessed
with such friends?"
As we left the house in my fly, which was waiting, Van Helsing
said:— "To-night I can sleep in peace, and sleep I want—two
nights of travel,
much reading in the day between, and much anxiety on the day
to follow, and
a night to sit up, without to wink. To-morrow in the morning
early you call for me, and we come together to see our pretty
miss, so much more strong for my 'spell' which I have work. Ho!
ho!"
He seemed so confident that I, remembering my own
confidence two nights before and with the baneful result, felt
awe and vague terror. It must have been my weakness that
made me hesitate to tell it to my friend, but I felt it all the more,
like unshed tears.