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by Bram Stoker The original, squashed down to read in about 65 minutes  Bela Lugosi as Dracula in the 1931 film (1897) The Irish author Abraham 'Bram' Stoker mixed the Eastern European legends of the blood-sucking un-dead, already made popular through stories such as 'Varney the Vampire' (1847), with the, very real, history of a bloodthirsty Transylvanian tyrant to create this, one of the most famous stories of all time. Abridged: GH 1 JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL(Kept in shorthand) 3 May. Bistritz.- Left Munich at 8:35pm, on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train. When in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search regarding Transylvania, one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula, is a very interesting old place. Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned. I was evidently expected, for a cheery-looking elderly woman in peasant dress bowed and said, "The Herr Englishman?", while her man gave me a letter:- My Friend.- Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. Your friend, "Dracula." When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, both he and his wife crossed themselves, saying that they knew nothing at all. She shook her head as she said: "It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know what you are going to?" She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me. "For your mother’s sake," and went out of the room. 5 May: I dined on what they called "robber steak"- bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple style of the London cat’s meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable. When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him talking with the landlady. "Ordog"- Satan, "pokol"- hell, "stregoica"- witch, "vrolok" and "vlkoslak"- both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire. (Mem., I must ask the Count about these superstitions) I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along. Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves, an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. By the roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal crossing of themselves, a calèche, with four horses, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the flash of our lamps that the horses were coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the driver:- "You are early to-night, my friend." The man stammered in reply:- "The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:- "Denn die Todten reiten schnell" ("For the dead travel fast.") With exceeding alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the calèche. Then I descended from the side of the coach, as the calèche was close alongside, the driver helping me with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must have been prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept into the darkness of the Pass. "The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the country) underneath the seat." Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road- a long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. This startled me, but as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through the darkness. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit sky. When the calèche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. I heard a heavy step approaching, then the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back, and the great door swung back. Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor- for just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor! Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation:- "Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!" Holding out his hand he grasped mine with a strength which made me wince- it seemed as cold as ice- more like the hand of a dead than a living man. "Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring!" The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person; so to make sure, I said interrogatively:- Count Dracula?" He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:- "I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. It is late, and my people are not available." He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair. I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:- I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup." I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. By this time I had finished, and by my host’s desire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found him of a very marked physiognomy. His face was a strong- a very strong- aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said:- "Listen to them- the children of the night. What music they make!" But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!" "I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that will interest you. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new estate in London. You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, there is reason that all things are as they are. We are in Transylvania, and there shall be to you many strange things." We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at Purfleet. When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins When I had finished, he said:- "I am glad that my new place is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart is not attuned to mirth." Presently, with an excuse, he left me 8 May. I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, "Good-morning." I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there. "Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country." Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on: "And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!" and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. I realise this castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner! 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, 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. Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. 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. Later. 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. As I leaned from the window my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, where I imagined that the windows of the Count’s own room would look out. What I saw was the Count’s head coming out from the window. I was at first interested and somewhat amused, 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 saw the fingers and toes grasp the corners of the stones, and thus 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 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.... 2 JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNALLater: the Morning of 16 May.- I suppose I must have fallen asleep; I hope so, but I fear, for all that followed was startlingly real. I was not alone. 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. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina’s eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth. One said:- "Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right to begin." 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. But at that instant I was conscious of the presence of the Count, and of his being as if lapped in a storm of fury. "How dare you touch him, any of you? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me!" Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious. I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count must have carried me here. To be sure, there were certain small evidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laid by in a manner which was not my habit. As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were- who are- waiting to suck my blood. 19 May. Last night the Count asked me in the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my work here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within a few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. 28 May.- There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to send word home. A band of Szgany gypsies have come to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard. I shall write some letters home, Mina’s is in shorthand, and I simply ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. I threw them through the bars of my window with 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 then put them in his cap. The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothest voice as he opened two letters:- "The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not whence they come. One is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly held letter 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 is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal." When he went out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute later I went over and tried it, and the door was locked. Despair has its own calms. 31 May.- This morning when I woke I thought I would provide myself with 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 a surprise, again a shock! Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. Somewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, I heard the voice of the Count calling in his harsh, metallic whisper. His call seemed to be answered from far and wide by the howling of wolves. Before many minutes had passed a pack of them poured, like a pent-up dam when liberated, through the wide entrance into the courtyard. - No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and how dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. I have not yet seen the 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 his room! But the door is always locked. Same day, later.- I have made the effort, and God, helping me, have come safely back to this room. I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on the south side, and at once got outside on the narrow ledge of stone which runs around the building on this side. I looked down once, I did not feel dizzy- I suppose I was too excited- and the time seemed ridiculously short till I found myself standing on the window-sill and slid feet foremost in through the window. The room was barely furnished with odd things, which seemed to have never been used; the furniture was something the same style as that in the south rooms, and was covered with dust. The only thing I found was a great heap of gold in one corner- gold of all kinds, Roman, and British, and Austrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkish money, covered with a film of dust. None of it that I noticed was less than three hundred years old. There were also chains and ornaments, some jewelled, but all of them old and stained. At last I pulled open a heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself in an old, ruined chapel. I went down even into the vaults, where I made a discovery. There, in a great boxe, of which there were fifty in all, on a 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 without the glassiness of death- and the cheeks had the warmth of life through all their pallor; the lips were as red as ever. I fled from the place, and regaining my room, I threw myself panting upon the bed and tried to think.... 29 June.- I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man can look as he said:- "To-morrow, my friend, we must part." Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:- "Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of. 30 June, morning. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I felt that I was safe. With a glad heart, I ran down to the hall. But the great door would not move. Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and I determined then and there to scale the wall again and gain the Count’s room. It was empty, but that was as I expected. The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but the lid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready in their places to be hammered home. I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall; and then I saw something which filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck. There was no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to fill the cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell full upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. Then there came the sound of many feet tramping 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 the new entrance; but at the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the door to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that it was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was closing round me more closely. The door is shut, and the chains rattle; there is a grinding of the key in the lock; I can hear the key withdraw: then another door opens and shuts; I hear the creaking of lock and bolt. I am alone in the castle with those awful women. Faugh! Mina is a woman, and there is nought in common. I shall not remain alone with them; I shall try to scale the castle wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of the gold with me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this dreadful place. Good-bye, all! Mina! 3 DR. SEWARD’S DIARY.5 June.- The case of my patient Renfield is interesting. He has certain qualities very largely developed; selfishness, secrecy, and purpose. He seems to have some settled scheme of his own, but what it is I do not yet know. Just now his hobby is catching flies. When a horrid blow-fly, bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and put it in his mouth and ate it. I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome. 19 July.- We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated. 20 July.- Visited Renfield very early, before the attendant went his rounds. There were a few feathers about the room and on his pillow a drop of blood. 4 MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL.I had not heard from Jonathan for some time, and was very concerned; but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins sent me a letter from him. It is only a line dated from Castle Dracula, and says that he is just starting for home. That is not like Jonathan; I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy. Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is already planning out her dresses and how her house is to be arranged. I sympathise with her, for I do the same, only Jonathan and I will start in life in a very simple way, and shall have to try to make both ends meet. Mr. Holmwood- he is the son of Lord Godalming- is coming up here very shortly- as soon as he can leave town, for his father is not very well, and I think dear Lucy is counting the moments till he comes. She wants to take him up to the seat on the churchyard cliff and show him the beauty of Whitby. CUTTING FROM "THE DAILYGRAPH," 8 AUGUST (Pasted in Mina Murray’s Journal.) Whitby. ONE of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been experienced here, with results both strange and unique. On Saturday evening the tempest threw a foreign schooner across the harbour, pitching herself on that accumulation of sand and gravel under the East Cliff. Every spar, rope, and stay was strained, and some of the "top-hammer" came crashing down. But, strangest of all, the very instant the shore was touched, an immense dog sprang up on deck from below. When I arrived, I was, as your correspondent, permitted to climb on deck, and was one of a small group who saw the only creature on board - a dead seaman actually lashed to the wheel, with a crucifix in his inner hand. Consulting the log of 'The Demeter' we found that her cargo- a number of great wooden boxes filled with mould- was consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. S. F. Billington. Stranger still, the captain wrote of how his crewmen had, one by one, been frightened to their deaths by the apparition of a pale figure on deck at night. Of the last he wrote; "The terrified sailor cried out to me, "Save me! save me! He is there. I know the secret now. The sea will save me from Him, and it is all that is left!" Before I could say a word, he sprang on the bulwark and deliberately threw himself into the sea. God help me! How am I to account for all these horrors when I get to port? I shall tie my hands to the wheel when my strength begins to fail, and along with them I shall tie that which He- It!- dare not touch". To-morrow will see the funeral; and so will end this one more "mystery of the sea." 5 MINA MURRAY’S JOURNAL8 August.- Lucy was very restless all night, and I, too, could not sleep. The storm was fearful, and as it boomed loudly among the chimney-pots, it made me shudder. Strangely enough, Lucy did not wake; but she got up twice and dressed herself. Fortunately, each time I awoke in time and managed to undress her without waking her, and got her back to bed. It is a very strange thing, this sleep-walking. Same day, 11 o’clock p. m.- Oh, but I am tired! We had a lovely walk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits. We had a capital "severe tea" at Robin Hood’s Bay in a sweet little old-fashioned inn, with a bow-window right over the seaweed-covered rocks of the strand. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with her seeing her only in the drawing-room, I wonder what he would say if he saw her now. Some of the "New Women" writers will some day start an idea that men and women should be allowed to see each other asleep before proposing or accepting. But I suppose the New Woman won’t condescend in future to accept; she will do the proposing herself. 11 August, 3 a. m.- No sleep now, so I may as well write. Lucy has been walking in her sleep again. On this occasion I found her out along by the churchyard below the ruins of the abbey. Same day, noon.- All goes well. Lucy slept till I woke her and the adventure of the night does not seem to have harmed her; on the contrary, she looks better this morning than she has done for weeks. I must have pinched up a piece of loose skin and have transfixed it, for there are two little red points like pin-pricks, and on the band of her nightdress was a drop of blood. 12 August.- My expectations were wrong, for twice during the night I was wakened by Lucy trying to get out. She seemed, even in her sleep, to be a little impatient at finding the door shut, and went back to bed under a sort of protest. 17 August.- I have not had the heart to write. Some sort of shadowy pall seems to be coming over our happiness. No news from Jonathan, and Lucy seems to be growing weaker, whilst we find her mother gravely ill. I do not understand Lucy’s fading away as she is doing. She eats well and sleeps well, and enjoys the fresh air; but all the time the roses in her cheeks are fading. LETTER Samuel F. Billington & Son, Solicitors, Whitby, to Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London. 17 August. Dear Sirs,- Herewith please receive invoice of goods sent by Great Northern Railway. Same are to be delivered at Carfax House, near Purfleet. You will please deposit the boxes, fifty in number, in the partially ruined ancient chapel of the mansion, marked ‘A’ on rough diagram enclosed. Pray do not take us as exceeding the bounds of business courtesy in pressing you to use the utmost expedition. We are, dear Sirs, Samuel F. Billington & Son." 19 August.- Joy, joy, joy! although not all joy. At last, news of Jonathan. The dear fellow has been ill; that is why he did not write. I am to leave in the morning and go over to Jonathan, and to help to nurse him if necessary, and to bring him home. Mr. Hawkins says it would not be a bad thing if we were to be married out there. LETTER Sister Agatha, Hospital Of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, Buda-Pesth, To Miss Wilhelmina Murray. 12 August. Dear Madam,- I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker, who is himself not strong enough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary. He has been under our care for nearly six weeks, suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey his love, and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Peter Hawkins, Exeter, to say that all of his work is completed. He will require some few weeks’ rest in our sanatorium in the hills, but will then return. He wishes me to say that he has not sufficient money with him, and that he would like to pay for his staying here, so that others who need shall not be wanting for help. 6 DR. SEWARD’S DIARY.19 August.- Strange and sudden change in Renfield last night. The attendant was struck by his manner, and encouraged him to talk. I heard him say:- "I am here to do Your bidding, Master. I am Your slave. I have worshipped You long and afar off. Now that You are near, I await Your commands." I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before; and I hope I shall not again. LETTER Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra. Buda-Pesth, 24 August. My dearest Lucy, I know you will be anxious to hear all that has happened since we parted at the railway station at Whitby. He has had some terrible shock, and I fear it might tax his poor brain if he were to try to recall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good creature and a born nurse, tells me that he raved of dreadful things whilst he was off his head. I wanted her to tell me what they were; but she would only cross herself, and say she would never tell. The chaplain of the English mission church has been sent for. We are to be married in an hour, or as soon after as Jonathan awakes. I must stop, for Jonathan is waking- I must attend to my husband! Your ever-loving, Mina. 20 August.- The case of Renfield grows even more interesting. For the first week after his attack he was perpetually violent. Then one night, just as the moon rose, he grew quiet, Then I caught the patient’s eye and followed it, but could trace nothing as it looked into the moonlit sky except a big bat, which was flapping its silent and ghostly way to the west. Bats usually wheel and flit about, but this one seemed to go straight on, as if it knew where it was bound for or had some intention of its own. LETTER Arthur Holmwood to Dr. Seward. Albemarle Hotel, 31 August. My dear Jack,- I want you to do me a favour. Lucy is ill; that is, she has no special disease, but she looks awful, and is getting worse every day. I am sure that there is something preying on my dear girl’s mind. I told her I should ask you to see her, and though she demurred at first- I know why, old fellow- she finally consented. I am filled with anxiety! Arthur LETTER From Dr. Seward to Arthur Holmwood. 2 September. My dear old fellow,- With regard to Miss Westenra’s health I could easily see that she is somewhat bloodless, but I could not see the usual anæmic signs; but there must be a cause somewhere. I am in doubt, and so have written to my old friend and master, Professor Van Helsing, of Amsterdam, who knows as much about obscure diseases, and, who, by good fortune, can come at once. Yours always, John Seward 7 September.- The first thing Van Helsing said to me when we met with Lucy was "Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must have or die. We must perform what we call transfusion, and John will give his blood. He is so young and strong and of blood so pure that we need not defibrinate it." 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. The Professor stood up. "I must go back to Amsterdam to-night," he said. "There are books and things there which I want. Remember, she is your charge." 11 September.- This afternoon I went over to Hillingham. Found Van Helsing in excellent spirits, and Lucy much better. Shortly after I had arrived, a big parcel from abroad came for the Professor. He opened it and showed a great bundle of white flowers. These are for you, Miss Lucy," he said. "For me? Oh, Professor, I believe you are only putting up a joke on me. Why, these flowers are only common garlic." "There is much virtue in those so common flowers. See, I place them myself in your room. I make myself the wreath that you are to wear." The Professor’s actions were certainly odd and not to be found in any pharmacopia that I ever heard of. First he fastened up the windows and latched them securely; next, taking a handful of the flowers, he rubbed them all over the sashes, then with the wisp he rubbed all over the jamb of the door, and round the fireplace in the same way. It all seemed grotesque. Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. Memorandum left by Lucy Westenra. 17 September. Night.- I write this and leave it to be seen, an exact record of what took place to-night. I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers were placed as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep. I was waked by the flapping at the window. I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr. Seward was in the next room. Presently the door opened, and mother came in, and sat by me. After a while there was the low howl and shortly a crash at the window, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was the head of a great, gaunt grey wolf. Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sitting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round my neck, and tore it away from me. The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. God shield me from harm this night! God keep you, dear, and God help me! 18 September.- I drove to Lucy's home at Hillingham, but could get no reply at the door. I met Van Helsing running up the avenue. When he saw me, he gasped out:- "How is she? Are we too late?" We went round to the back of the house, where the Professor took a small surgical saw and opened the window. How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay two women, Lucy and her mother. The flowers which had been round her neck we found upon her mother’s bosom, and her throat was bare, showing the two little wounds which we had noticed before, but looking horribly white and mangled. Without a word the Professor bent over the bed, his head almost touching poor Lucy’s breast, then, leaping to his feet, he cried out:- "It is not yet too late! Quick! quick! We must have another transfusion of blood, and a brave man’s blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble." Once again we went through that ghastly operation. Lucy had got a terrible shock and her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasions. Sleeping, she looked stronger, and her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which looked positively longer and sharper than usual. Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his face at its sternest;- "It is all over, she is dead!" I stood beside, and said:- "Ah, well, poor girl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!" He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity:- "Not so! It is only the beginning!" The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day, so that Lucy and her mother might be buried together. I attended to all the ghastly formalities, when, to my surprise, Van Helsing walked into the death room, The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not loved her as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a little gold crucifix, and placed it over her mouth. "To-morrow I want you to bring me, before night, a set of post-mortem knives." "Must we make an autopsy?" I asked. "Yes and no. I want to operate, but not as you think. Let me tell you now, but not a word to another. I want to cut off her head and take out her heart. Ah! you a surgeon, and so shocked!" "But why do it at all? Why mutilate her poor body without need?" "Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles; and yet when King Laugh come he make them all dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and dry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall- all dance together to the music that he make with that smileless mouth of him." NEWSPAPER CUTTING The Westminster Gazette, 25 September. Extra Special. THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR - ANOTHER CHILD INJURED. The "Bloofer Lady." We have just received intelligence that another child, missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning under a furze bush at the Shooter’s Hill side of Hampstead Heath, which is, perhaps, less frequented than the other parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat as has been noticed in other cases. It was terribly weak, and looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially restored, had the common story to tell of being lured away by the "bloofer lady." 7 DR. SEWARD’S DIARYIt was just a quarter before twelve o’clock when we got into the churchyard over the low wall. When we had come close to the tomb, the Professor unlocked the door, and lit a dark lantern and pointed to the coffin. He said to me:- "You were with me here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?" "It was." The Professor took off the lid of the coffin. Arthur stepped forward. The coffin was empty! Van Helsing took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit; next he took out a double-handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. "What is that?" This time the question was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat:- "The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam." And then a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed; and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance- a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. My own heart grew cold as ice as we recognised the features of Lucy Westenra. When Lucy- I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape- saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares. She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said:- "Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!" Then Van Helsing sprang forward and held up his little golden crucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted face, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb. The lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death- if looks could kill- we saw it at that moment. Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur:- "My friend, am I to proceed in my work?" Arthur threw himself on his knees, and hid his face in his hands, as he answered:- "Do as you will. There can be no horror like this ever any more". We all looked on in horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back, the woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own, pass in through the interstice where scarce a knife-blade could have gone. When all was ready, Van Helsing said:- "It is the lore and experience of the powers of the Un-Dead, that when they become such, there comes the curse of immortality; they cannot die, but must go on age after age adding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world. Those children whose blood she suck are not as yet so much the worse; but if she live on, Un-Dead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power over them they come to her. Take this stake in your left hand, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin our prayer for the dead- I shall read him, I have here the book- strike in God’s name, that so all may be well with the dead." Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was set on action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Then he struck with all his might. The Thing in the coffin writhed; and a hideous, blood-curdling screech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and twisted in wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam. When he raised his head Van Helsing said to him:- "Kiss her dead lips, as she would have you to. No longer she is the devil’s Un-Dead. She is God’s true dead, whose soul is now with Him!" The Professor and I sawed the top off the stake, leaving the point of it in the body. Then we cut off the head and filled the mouth with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin, screwed on the coffin-lid, and gathering up our belongings, came away. Now, my friends, one step of our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves. But there remains a greater task: to find out the author of all this our sorrow and to stamp him done. 30 September. - I got home at five o’clock, and found that Godalming and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker and his wonderful wife had made and arranged. Mrs. Harker said:- "Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your patient, Mr. Renfield. What you have said of him in your diary interests me so much!" She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her; so I took her with me. When I arrived into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see him; to which he simply answered: "Let her come in, but just wait a minute till I tidy up the place." His method of tidying was peculiar: he simply swallowed all the flies. As Renfield met us he explained; "Since I myself have been an inmate of a lunatic asylum, I cannot but notice that the sophistic tendencies of some of its inmates lean towards the errors of non causa and ignoratio elenchi. I used to fancy that life was a positive and perpetual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of live things, no matter how low in the scale of creation, one might indefinitely prolong life. At times I held the belief so strongly that I actually tried to take human life. The doctor here will bear me out that on one occasion I tried to kill him for the purpose of strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body of his life through the medium of his blood- relying, of course, upon the Scriptural phrase, 'For the blood is the life.' " Looking at my watch, I saw that I should go to the station to meet Van Helsing. Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eager nimbleness of a boy and, as we drove to the house I told him of what had passed, and that the house which Dracula had bought was the very next one to my own. We spent the time studying our various journals and notes; so we shall all be informed as to facts, and can arrange our plan of battle with this terrible and mysterious enemy. 8 MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL30 September.- We met in the study after dinner, with Dr. Seward, Lord Godalming, and Mr. Morris, Professor Van Helsing took the head of the table, and said:- "There are such beings as vampires. The nosferatu do not die like the bee when he sting once - he is only stronger. This vampire is so strong as twenty men; he is of cunning more than mortal, for his cunning be the growth of ages. He can, within limitations, appear in many forms; he can direct the elements; the storm, the fog, the thunder; command the rat, the owl, the bat, the moth, the fox, the wolf; he can grow and become small; and he can at times vanish. How then are we to begin our strike to destroy him? All we have to go upon are traditions and superstitions. A year ago which of us would have received such a possibility, in the midst of our scientific, sceptical, matter-of-fact nineteenth century? The vampire is known everywhere, in old Greece, in Rome; he flourish in Germany, in France, in India, even in China. The vampire cannot die by mere passing of the time; he can flourish when he can fatten on the blood of the living. He throws no shadow; he make in the mirror no reflect. He can transform himself to wolf, dog; he can be as bat. He can come in mist, on moonlight rays as elemental dust. He become so small, slip through a hairbreadth space. He can see in the dark. He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay; he is even more prisoner than the slave of the galley, than the madman in his cell. He may not enter anywhere, unless one of the household bid him come. His power ceases at the coming of the day. He can only change himself at noon or at exact sunrise or sunset. He must have his earth-home, his coffin-home, unhallowed. He can only pass running water at the slack or the flood. Then there are things which so afflict him that he has no power, garlic and things sacred, as this crucifix. The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not from it; a sacred bullet fired into the coffin kill him so that he be true dead; and as for the stake through him, we know already of its peace; or the cut-off head that giveth rest. And now we must settle what we do. We know from the inquiry of Jonathan that from the castle to Whitby came fifty boxes of earth. Our first step should be to ascertain whether these remain. Outside the room came the sound of a pistol-shot and we heard Mr. Morris’s voice without:- "Sorry! I fear I have alarmed you. It was an idiotic thing of me to do, and I ask your pardon. But the fact is that there came a big bat and sat on the window-sill. I have got such a horror of the damned brutes from recent events that I cannot stand them, and I went out to have a shot." 9 JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL1 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. We took our way to the house, taking care to keep in the shadows when the moonlight shone out. When we got to the porch the Professor opened his bag and took out a lot of things, which he laid on the step, sorting them into four little groups, evidently one for each. Then he spoke:- "Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember that he has the strength of twenty men, and that our necks or our windpipes are of the common kind. Keep this near your heart"- as he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and held it out to me, - "put these flowers round your neck"- here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic blossoms- "for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this knife; and for aid in all, these so small electric lamps, which you can fasten to your breast; and for all, and above all at the last, this Sacred Wafer, which we must not desecrate needless." Each was similarly equipped. "Now," he said, "friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so that we can open the door." The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches deep, except where there were recent footsteps. The Professor turned to me and said:- "You know this place, Jonathan. Which is the way to the chapel? We must examine every hole and corner and cranny and see if we cannot get some clue as to what has become of the great earth chests." A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly back from a corner, and we saw a whole mass of phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars. We all instinctively drew back. The whole place was becoming alive with rats. Rushing over to the great iron-bound oaken door, which Dr. Seward had described from the outside, and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in the lock, drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open. In the old chapel the great boxes looked just as we had seen them last. Dr. Van Helsing said to us solemnly as we stood before them:- "And now, my friends, we have a duty here to do. We must sterilise this earth, so sacred of holy memories, that he has brought from a far distant land for such fell use. He has chosen this earth because it has been holy. Thus we defeat him with his own weapon, for we make it more holy still. It was sanctified to such use of man, now we sanctify it to God." As he spoke he took from his bag a screwdriver and a wrench, and very soon the top of one of the cases was thrown open. The earth smelled musty and close; but we did not somehow seem to mind, for our attention was concentrated on the Professor. Taking from his box a piece of the Sacred Wafer he laid it reverently on the earth, and then shutting down the lid began to screw it home, we aiding him as he worked. One by one we treated in the same way each of the great boxes, and left them as we had found them to all appearance; but in each was a portion. After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, from basement to attic, we came to the conclusion that the dining-room contained any effects which might belong to the Count; and so we proceeded to minutely examine them. They lay in a sort of orderly disorder on the great dining-room table. There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great bundle; deeds of the purchase of the houses at Mile End and Bermondsey; note-paper, envelopes, and pens and ink. There were also a clothes brush, a brush and comb, and a jug and basin- the latter containing dirty water which was reddened as if with blood. The rest of us are, with what patience we can, waiting their return- or the coming of the Count. 10 DR. SEWARD’S DIARY"There’s nothing to do but to wait here. He will be here before long now," said Van Helsing; "Have all your arms! Be ready! He held up a warning hand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key softly inserted in the lock of the hall door. The slow, careful steps came along the hall; the Count was evidently prepared for some surprise- at least he feared it. Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room, winning a way past us before any of us could raise a hand to stay him. As the Count saw us, a horrible sort of snarl passed over his face, showing the eye-teeth long and pointed; but the evil smile as quickly passed into a cold stare of lion-like disdain. Harker had ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. As it was, the point just cut the cloth of his coat, I could hear the "ting" of gold, as some of the sovereigns fell on the flagging. We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He, rushing up the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the stable door. He had, however, bolted the stable door; and by the time we had forced it open there was no sign of him. With sad hearts we came back to my house, where we found Mrs. Harker waiting us. The Professor’s calm voice called us together:- "The Count means to escape. He saw that with but one earth-box left, and a pack of men following like dogs after a fox, this London was no place for him. He will have take his last earth-box on board a ship, and he leave the land. We follow him. Tally Ho! Mina looked at him appealingly as she asked:- But why need we seek him further, when he is gone away from us?" Because," he answered solemnly, "he can live for centuries, and you are but mortal woman." 11 MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL5 October, 5 p. m.- Our meeting for report. Present: Professor Van Helsing, Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, Mr. Quincey Morris, Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker. Dr. Van Helsing described what steps were taken during the day to discover on what boat and whither bound Count Dracula made his escape:- "We find from Lloyds that only one Black-Sea-bound ship go out with the tide. She is the Czarina Catherine, from Doolittle’s Wharf for Varna, and thence on to other parts and up the Danube. So off we go to Doolittle’s Wharf, and there we find a man in an office of wood so small that the man look bigger than the office. They say much of blood and bloom, and of others which I comprehend not, though I guess. The ship is gone, and we must follow." 15 October, Varna.- We left Charing Cross on the morning of the 12th, got to Paris the same night, and took the places secured for us in the Orient Express. We travelled night and day, arriving here at about five o’clock. 1 November.- All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed. The horses seem to know. The country gets wilder as we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians now seem to gather round us and tower in front. We got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday morning. 6 November.- It was late in the afternoon when we saw the line of Dracula’s castle cut the sky. We saw it in all its grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the summit of a sheer precipice. We could hear the distant howling of wolves. Suddenly the Professor called out:- "Look! Madam Mina, look! look!" I sprang up and stood beside him on the rock; he handed me his glasses and pointed. Straight in front of us and not far off came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the midst of them was a cart, a long leiter-wagon, I could see from the men’s clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some kind. On the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw it, for I felt that the end was coming. All at once two voices shouted out: "Halt!" One was my Jonathan’s, the other Mr. Morris' tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have known the language, but, instinctively they reined in. The four men raised their Winchester rifles, as, at the same moment, Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and pointed our weapons at them. The leader turned to them and gave a word at which every man cowered aside. In an instant Jonathan, with desperate energy, attacked one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with his great Kukri knife. The nails drew with a quick screeching sound, and I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew too well. On the instant came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat; whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the heart. It was like a miracle; but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumble into dust and passed from our sight. The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and every stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the light of the setting sun. The gypsies rode away as if for their lives, the wolves followed in their wake, leaving us alone. Morris, who had sunk to the ground; "Oh, God!" he cried suddenly; "God be thanked that all has not been in vain! The curse has passed away!" And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died, a gallant gentleman. 12 NOTESeven years ago we all went through the flames; and the happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured. It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our boy’s birthday is the same day as that on which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I know, the secret belief that some of our brave friend’s spirit has passed into him. In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and terrible memories. When we got home we were talking of the old time- which we could all look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both happily married. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his knee:- "We ask none to believe us! This boy will some day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he knows her sweetness and loving care; later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake." Jonathan Harker. THE END |
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