Dracula by Bram Stoker(7)

mind about her daughter in her present state of health
would be fatal. Mrs. Westenra has confided to me that her
doom is spoken, disease of the heart, though poor Lucy
does not know it yet. I am sure that there is something
preying on my dear girl’s mind. I am almost distracted
when I think of her. To look at her gives me a pang. I
told her I should ask you to see her, and though she
demurred at first, I know why, old fellow, she finally
consented. It will be a painful task for you, I know, old
friend, but it is for her sake, and I must not hesitate to ask,
or you to act. You are to come to lunch at Hillingham
tomorrow, two o’clock, so as not to arouse any suspicion
in Mrs. Westenra, and after lunch Lucy will take an
opportunity of being alone with you. I am filled with
anxiety, and want to consult with you alone as soon as I
can after you have seen her. Do not fail!
‘Arthur.’
TELEGRAM, ARTHUR HOLMWOOD TO
SEWARD
1 September
‘Am summoned to see my father, who is worse. Am
writing. Write me fully by tonight’s post to Ring. Wire
me if necessary.’
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LETTER FROM DR. SEWARD TO ARTHUR

HOLMWOOD
2 September
‘My dear old fellow,
‘With regard to Miss Westenra’s health I hasten to let
you know at once that in my opinion there is not any
functional disturbance or any malady that I know of. At
the same time, I am not by any means satisfied with her
appearance. She is woefully different from what she was
when I saw her last. Of course you must bear in mind that
I did not have full opportunity of examination such as I
should wish. Our very friendship makes a little difficulty
which not even medical science or custom can bridge
over. I had better tell you exactly what happened, leaving
you to draw, in a measure, your own conclusions. I shall
then say what I have done and propose doing.
‘I found Miss Westenra in seemingly gay spirits. Her
mother was present, and in a few seconds I made up my
mind that she was trying all she knew to mislead her
mother and prevent her from being anxious. I have no
doubt she guesses, if she does not know, what need of
caution there is.
‘We lunched alone, and as we all exerted ourselves to
be cheerful, we got, as some kind of reward for our
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labours, some real cheerfulness amongst us. Then Mrs.
Westenra went to lie down, and Lucy was left with me.
We went into her boudoir, and till we got there her gaiety
remained, for the servants were coming and going.
‘As soon as the door was closed, however, the mask fell
from her face, and she sank down into a chair with a great
sigh, and hid her eyes with her hand. When I saw that her
high spirits had failed, I at once took advantage of her
reaction to make a diagnosis.
‘She said to me very sweetly, ‘I cannot tell you how I
loathe talking about myself.’ I reminded her that a doctor’s
confidence was sacred, but that you were grievously
anxious about her. She caught on to my meaning at once,
and settled that matter in a word. ‘Tell Arthur everything
you choose. I do not care for myself, but for him!’ So I am
quite free.
‘I could easily see that she was somewhat bloodless, but
I could not see the usual anemic signs, and by the chance,
I was able to test the actual quality of her blood, for in
opening a window which was stiff a cord gave way, and
she cut her hand slightly with broken glass. It was a slight
matter in itself, but it gave me an evident chance, and I
secured a few drops of the blood and have analysed them.
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‘The qualitative analysis give a quite normal condition,
and shows, I should infer, in itself a vigorous state of
health. In other physical matters I was quite satisfied that
there is no need for anxiety, but as there must be a cause
somewhere, I have come to the conclusion that it must be
something mental.
‘She complains of difficulty breathing satisfactorily at
times, and of heavy, lethargic sleep, with dreams that
frighten her, but regarding which she can remember
nothing. She says that as a child, she used to walk in her
sleep, and that when in Whitby the habit came back, and
that once she walked out in the night and went to East
Cliff, where Miss Murray found her. But she assures me
that of late the habit has not returned.
‘I am in doubt, and so have done the best thing I know
of. I have written to my old friend and master, Professor
Van Helsing, of Amsterdam, who knows as much about
obscure diseases as any one in the world. I have asked him
to come over, and as you told me that all things were to
be at your charge, I have mentioned to him who you are
and your relations to Miss Westenra. This, my dear fellow,
is in obedience to your wishes, for I am only too proud
and happy to do anything I can for her.
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‘Van Helsing would, I know, do anything for me for a
personal reason, so no matter on what ground he comes,
we must accept his wishes. He is a seemingly arbitrary
man, this is because he knows what he is talking about
better than any one else. He is a philosopher and a
metaphysician, and one of the most advanced scientists of
his day, and he has, I believe, an absolutely open mind.
This, with an iron nerve, a temper of the ice-brook, and
indomitable resolution, self-command, and toleration
exalted from virtues to blessings, and the kindliest and
truest heart that beats, these form his equipment for the
noble work that he is doing for mankind, work both in
theory and practice, for his views are as wide as his allembracing
sympathy. I tell you these facts that you may
know why I have such confidence in him. I have asked
him to come at once. I shall see Miss Westenra tomorrow
again. She is to meet me at the Stores, so that I may not
alarm her mother by too early a repetition of my call.
‘Yours always.’
John Seward
LETTER, ABRAHAM VAN HELSING, MD, DPh,
D. Lit, ETC, ETC, TO DR. SEWARD
2 September.
‘My good Friend,
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‘When I received your letter I am already coming to
you. By good fortune I can leave just at once, without
wrong to any of those who have trusted me. Were fortune
other, then it were bad for those who have trusted, for I
come to my friend when he call me to aid those he holds
dear. Tell your friend that when that time you suck from
my wound so swiftly the poison of the gangrene from that
knife that our other friend, too nervous, let slip, you did
more for him when he wants my aids and you call for
them than all his great fortune could do. But it is pleasure
added to do for him, your friend, it is to you that I come.
Have near at hand, and please it so arrange that we may
see the young lady not too late on tomorrow, for it is
likely that I may have to return here that night. But if
need be I shall come again in three days, and stay longer if
it must. Till then goodbye, my friend John.
‘Van Helsing.’
LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHUR
HOLMWOOD
3 September
‘My dear Art,
‘Van Helsing has come and gone. He came on with me
to Hillingham, and found that, by Lucy’s discretion, her
mother was lunching out, so that we were alone with her.
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‘Van Helsing made a very careful examination of the
patient. He is to report to me, and I shall advise you, for
of course I was not present all the time. He is, I fear, much
concerned, but says he must think. When I told him of
our friendship and how you trust to me in the matter, he
said, ‘You must tell him all you think. Tell him him what
I think, if you can guess it, if you will. Nay, I am not
jesting. This is no jest, but life and death, perhaps more.’ I
asked what he meant by that, for he was very serious. This
was when we had come back to town, and he was having
a cup of tea before starting on his return to Amsterdam.
He would not give me any further clue. You must not be
angry with me, Art, because his very reticence means that
all his brains are working for her good. He will speak
plainly enough when the time comes, be sure. So I told
him I would simply write an account of our visit, just as if
I were doing a descriptive special article for THE DAILY
TELEGRAPH. He seemed not to notice, but remarked
that the smuts of London were not quite so bad as they
used to be when he was a student here. I am to get his
report tomorrow if he can possibly make it. In any case I
am to have a letter.
‘Well, as to the visit, Lucy was more cheerful than on
the day I first saw her, and certainly looked better. She had
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lost something of the ghastly look that so upset you, and
her breathing was normal. She was very sweet to the
Professor (as she always is), and tried to make him feel at
ease, though I could see the poor girl was making a hard
struggle for it.
‘I believe Van Helsing saw it, too, for I saw the quick
look under his bushy brows that I knew of old. Then he
began to chat of all things except ourselves and diseases
and with such an infinite geniality that I could see poor
Lucy’s pretense of animation merge into reality. Then,
without any seeming change, he brought the conversation
gently round to his visit, and suavely said,
‘‘My dear young miss, I have the so great pleasure
because you are so much beloved. That is much, my dear,
even were there that which I do not see. They told me
you were down in the spirit, and that you were of a
ghastly pale. To them I say ‘Pouf!‘‘ And he snapped his
fingers at me and went on. ‘But you and I shall show them
how wrong they are. How can he’, and he pointed at me
with the same look and gesture as that with which he
pointed me out in his class, on, or rather after, a particular
occasion which he never fails to remind me of, ‘know
anything of a young ladies? He has his madmen to play
with, and to bring them back to happiness, and to those
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that love them. It is much to do, and, oh, but there are
rewards in that we can bestow such happiness. But the
young ladies! He has no wife nor daughter, and the young
do not tell themselves to the young, but to the old, like
me, who have known so many sorrows and the causes of
them. So, my dear, we will send him away to smoke the
cigarette in the garden, whiles you and I have little talk all
to ourselves.’ I took the hint, and strolled about, and
presently the professor came to the window and called me
in. He looked grave, but said, ‘I have made careful
examination, but there is no functional cause. With you I
agree that there has been much blood lost, it has been but
is not. But the conditions of her are in no way anemic. I
have asked her to send me her maid, that I may ask just
one or two questions, that so I may not chance to miss
nothing. I know well what she will say. And yet there is
cause. There is always cause for everything. I must go back
home and think. You must send me the telegram every
day, and if there be cause I shall come again. The disease,
for not to be well is a disease, interest me, and the sweet,
young dear, she interest me too. She charm me, and for
her, if not for you or disease, I come.’
‘As I tell you, he would not say a word more, even
when we were alone. And so now, Art, you know all I
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know. I shall keep stern watch. I trust your poor father is
rallying. It must be a terrible thing to you, my dear old
fellow, to be placed in such a position between two
people who are both so dear to you. I know your idea of
duty to your father, and you are right to stick to it. But if
need be, I shall send you word to come at once to Lucy,
so do not be over-anxious unless you hear from me.’
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
4 September.—Zoophagous patient still keeps up our
interest in him. He had only one outburst and that was
yesterday at an unusual time. Just before the stroke of
noon he began to grow restless. The attendant knew the
symptoms, and at once summoned aid. Fortunately the
men came at a run, and were just in time, for at the stroke
of noon he became so violent that it took all their strength
to hold him. In about five minutes, however, he began to
get more quiet, and finally sank into a sort of melancholy,
in which state he has remained up to now. The attendant
tells me that his screams whilst in the paroxysm were really
appalling. I found my hands full when I got in, attending
to some of the other patients who were frightened by him.
Indeed, I can quite understand the effect, for the sounds
disturbed even me, though I was some distance away. It is
now after the dinner hour of the asylum, and as yet my
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patient sits in a corner brooding, with a dull, sullen, woebegone
look in his face, which seems rather to indicate
than to show something directly. I cannot quite
understand it.
Later.—Another change in my patient. At five o’clock
I looked in on him, and found him seemingly as happy
and contented as he used to be. He was catching flies and
eating them, and was keeping note of his capture by
making nailmarks on the edge of the door between the
ridges of padding. When he saw me, he came over and
apologized for his bad conduct, and asked me in a very
humble, cringing way to be led back to his own room,
and to have his notebook again. I thought it well to
humour him, so he is back in his room with the window
open. He has the sugar of his tea spread out on the
window sill, and is reaping quite a harvest of flies. He is
not now eating them, but putting them into a box, as of
old, and is already examining the corners of his room to
find a spider. I tried to get him to talk about the past few
days, for any clue to his thoughts would be of immense
help to me, but he would not rise. For a moment or two
he looked very sad, and said in a sort of far away voice, as
though saying it rather to himself than to me.
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‘All over! All over! He has deserted me. No hope for
me now unless I do it myself!’ Then suddenly turning to
me in a resolute way, he said, ‘Doctor, won’t you be very
good to me and let me have a little more sugar? I think it
would be very good for me.’
‘And the flies?’ I said.
‘Yes! The flies like it, too, and I like the flies, therefore
I like it.’ And there are people who know so little as to
think that madmen do not argue. I procured him a double
supply, and left him as happy a man as, I suppose, any in
the world. I wish I could fathom his mind.
Midnight.—Another change in him. I had been to see
Miss Westenra, whom I found much better, and had just
returned, and was standing at our own gate looking at the
sunset, when once more I heard him yelling. As his room
is on this side of the house, I could hear it better than in
the morning. It was a shock to me to turn from the
wonderful smoky beauty of a sunset over London, with its
lurid lights and inky shadows and all the marvellous tints
that come on foul clouds even as on foul water, and to
realize all the grim sternness of my own cold stone
building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own
desolate heart to endure it all. I reached him just as the sun
was going down, and from his window saw the red disc
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sink. As it sank he became less and less frenzied, and just as
it dipped he slid from the hands that held him, an inert
mass, on the floor. It is wonderful, however, what
intellectual recuperative power lunatics have, for within a
few minutes he stood up quite calmly and looked around
him. I signalled to the attendants not to hold him, for I
was anxious to see what he would do. He went straight
over to the window and brushed out the crumbs of sugar.
Then he took his fly box, and emptied it outside, and
threw away the box. Then he shut the window, and
crossing over, sat down on his bed. All this surprised me,
so I asked him, ‘Are you going to keep flies any more?’
‘No,’ said he. ‘I am sick of all that rubbish!’ He
certainly is a wonderfully interesting study. I wish I could
get some glimpse of his mind or of the cause of his sudden
passion. Stop. There may be a clue after all, if we can find
why today his paroxysms came on at high noon and at
sunset. Can it be that there is a malign influence of the sun
at periods which affects certain natures, as at times the
moon does others? We shall see.
TELEGRAM. SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN
HELSING, AMSTERDAM
‘4 September.—Patient still better today.’
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TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN
HELSING, AMSTERDAM
‘5 September.—Patient greatly improved. Good
appetite, sleeps naturally, good spirits, colour coming
back.’
TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN
HELSING, AMSTERDAM
‘6 September.—Terrible change for the worse. Come
at once. Do not lose an hour. I hold over telegram to
Holmwood till have seen you.’
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Chapter 10
LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHUR
HOLMWOOD
6 September
‘My dear Art,
‘My news today 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 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
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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, to 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 will 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.’
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‘Why not now?’ I asked. ‘It may do some good. We
may arrive at some decision.’ He 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, the husbandman 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 a
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 gravely, ‘You were always a
careful student, and your case book was ever more full
than the rest. And I trust that good habit have not fail.
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Remember, my friend, that knowledge is stronger than
memory, and we should not trust the weaker. Even if you
have not kept the good practice, 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 people say. Take
then good note of it. Nothing is too small. I counsel you,
put down in record even your doubts and surmises.
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 beneficient 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
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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 set 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’s room. If I was shocked
when I saw her yesterday, I was horrified when I saw her
today.
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
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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 not
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 a
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 down here 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 recognized the
strong young manhood which seemed to emanate from
him, his eyes gleamed. Without a pause he said to him as
he held out his hand,
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‘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 nostrils 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
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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 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 said nothing. She was not asleep, but she was simply
too weak to make the effort. Her eyes spoke to us, that
was all.
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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 face seemed absolutely to shine. After a bit I
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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
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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 are anxious 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. Goodbye.’
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 that this wound,
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or whatever it was, might be the means of that manifest
loss of blood. But I abandoned the idea as soon as it
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
tonight,’ he said ‘There are books and things there which I
want. You must remain here all 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 a warning finger held up, ‘Remember,
she is your charge. If you leave her, and harm befall, you
shall not sleep easy hereafter!’
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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 her daughter’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. It was apparent
that she did not want to sleep, so I tackled the subject at
once.
‘You do not want to sleep?’
‘No. I am afraid.’
‘Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boon we all
crave for.’
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‘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 tonight. I am here
watching you, and I can promise that nothing will
happen.’
‘Ah, I can trust you!’ she said.
I seized the opportunity, and said, ‘I promise 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, healthgiving
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
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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 zoophagous 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
tonight, 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 tonight 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
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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 tonight. 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
only Arthur knew! My dear, my dear, your ears must
tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking. Oh, the blissful rest
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of last night! How I slept, with that dear, good Dr. Seward
watching me. And tonight 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! Goodnight 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 agonized 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.
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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 agonizing 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 of transfusion. I had taken off
my coat and rolled up 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
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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 lifeblood
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 fiance. 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, while 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.
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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 any where 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.
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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 leave her for a moment. I
could hear his voice in the hall, asking the way to the
nearest telegraph office.
Lucy chatted with me freely, and seemed quite
unconscious that anything had happened. I tried to keep
her amused and interested. When her mother came up to
see her, she did not seem to notice any change whatever,
but said to me gratefully,
‘We owe you so much, Dr. Seward, for all you have
done, but you really must now take care not to overwork
yourself. You are looking pale yourself. You want a wife
to nurse and look after you a bit, that you do!’ As she
spoke, Lucy turned crimson, though it was only
momentarily, for her poor wasted veins could not stand
for long an unwonted drain to the head. The reaction
came in excessive pallor as she turned imploring eyes on
me. I smiled and nodded, and laid my finger on my lips.
With a sigh, she sank back amid her pillows.
Van Helsing returned in a couple of hours, and
presently said to me. ‘Now you go home, and eat much
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and drink enough. Make yourself strong. I stay here
tonight, and I shall sit up with little miss myself. You and I
must watch the case, and we must have none other to
know. I have grave reasons. No, do not ask me. Think
what you will. Do not fear to think even the most notimprobable.
Goodnight.’
In the hall two of the maids came to me, and asked if
they or either of them might not sit up with Miss Lucy.
They implored me to let them, and when I said it was Dr.
Van Helsing’s wish that either he or I should sit up, they
asked me quite piteously to intercede with the‘foreign
gentleman’. I was much touched by their kindness.
Perhaps it is because I am weak at present, and perhaps
because it was on Lucy’s account, that their devotion was
manifested. For over and over again have I seen similar
instances of woman’s kindness. I got back here in time for
a late dinner, went my rounds, all well, and set this down
whilst waiting for sleep. It is coming.
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 with
much impressment, assumed, of course, and showed a
great bundle of white flowers.
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‘These are for you, Miss Lucy,’ he said.
‘For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!’
‘Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with. These are
medicines.’ Here Lucy made a wry face. ‘Nay, but they
are not to take in a decoction or in nauseous form, so you
need not snub that so charming nose, or I shall point out
to my friend Arthur what woes he may have to endure in
seeing so much beauty that he so loves so much distort.
Aha, my pretty miss, that bring the so nice nose all straight
again. This is medicinal, but you do not know how. I put
him in your window, I make pretty wreath, and hang him
round your neck, so you sleep well. Oh, yes! They, like
the lotus flower, make your trouble forgotten. It smell so
like the waters of Lethe, and of that fountain of youth that
the Conquistadores sought for in the Floridas, and find
him all too late.’
Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had been examining the
flowers and smelling them. Now she threw them down
saying, with half laughter, and half disgust,
‘Oh, Professor, I believe you are only putting up a joke
on me. Why, these flowers are only common garlic.’
To my surprise, Van Helsing rose up and said with all
his sternness, his iron jaw set and his bushy eyebrows
meeting,
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‘No trifling with me! I never jest! There is grim
purpose in what I do, and I warn you that you do not
thwart me. Take care, for the sake of others if not for your
own.’ Then seeing poor Lucy scared, as she might well be,
he went on more gently, ‘Oh, little miss, my dear, do not
fear me. I only do for your good, but there is much virtue
to you in those so common flowers. See, I place them
myself in your room. I make myself the wreath that you
are to wear. But hush! No telling to others that make so
inquisitive questions. We must obey, and silence is a part
of obedience, and obedience is to bring you strong and
well into loving arms that wait for you. Now sit still a
while. Come with me, friend John, and you shall help me
deck the room with my garlic, which is all the war from
Haarlem, where my friend Vanderpool raise herb in his
glass houses all the year. I had to telegraph yesterday, or
they would not have been here.’
We went into the room, taking the flowers with us.
The Professor’s actions were certainly odd and not to be
found in any pharmacopeia 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, as though to ensure that every whiff of air that
might get in would be laden with the garlic smell. Then
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with the wisp he rubbed all over the jamb of the door,
above, below, and at each side, and round the fireplace in
the same way. It all seemed grotesque to me, and presently
I said, ‘Well, Professor, I know you always have a reason
for what you do, but this certainly puzzles me. It is well
we have no sceptic here, or he would say that you were
working some spell to keep out an evil spirit.’
‘Perhaps I am!’ He answered quietly as he began to
make the wreath which Lucy was to wear round her neck.
We then waited whilst Lucy made her toilet for the
night, and when she was in bed he came and himself fixed
the wreath of garlic round her neck. The last words he
said to her were,
‘Take care you do not disturb it, and even if the room
feel close, do not tonight 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, ‘Tonight 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. Tomorrow in the
morning early you call for me, and we come together to
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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.
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Chapter 11
LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY
12 September.—How good they all are to me. I quite
love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so
anxious about these flowers. He positively frightened me,
he was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I
feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not dread
being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear. I
shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the
terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of
late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of
sleep, and 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. Well, here I am
tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the
play, with ‘virgin crants and maiden strewments.’ I never
liked garlic before, but tonight it is delightful! There is
peace in its smell. I feel sleep coming already. Goodnight,
everybody.
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY
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13 September.—Called at the Berkeley and found Van
Helsing, as usual, up to time. The carriage ordered from
the hotel was waiting. The Professor took his bag, which
he always brings with him now.
Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived
at Hillingham at eight o’clock. It was a lovely morning.
The bright sunshine and all the fresh feeling of early
autumn seemed like the completion of nature’s annual
work. The leaves were turning to all kinds of beautiful
colours, but had not yet begun to drop from the trees.
When we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of
the morning room. She is always an early riser. She
greeted us warmly and said,
‘You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear
child is still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her,
but did not go in, lest I should disturb her.’ The Professor
smiled, and looked quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands
together, and said, ‘Aha! I thought I had diagnosed the
case. My treatment is working.’
To which she replied, ‘You must not take all the credit
to yourself, doctor. Lucy’s state this morning is due in part
to me.’
‘How do you mean, ma’am?’ asked the Professor.
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‘Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night,
and went into her room. She was sleeping soundly, so
soundly that even my coming did not wake her. But the
room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those
horrible, strong-smelling flowers about everywhere, and
she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared
that the heavy odour would be too much for the dear
child in her weak state, so I took them all away and
opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You
will be pleased with her, I am sure.’
She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually
breakfasted early. As she had spoken, I watched the
Professor’s face, and saw it turn ashen gray. He had been
able to retain his self-command whilst the poor lady was
present, for he knew her state and how mischievous a
shock would be. He actually smiled on her as he held
open the door for her to pass into her room. But the
instant she had disappeared he pulled me, suddenly and
forcibly, into the dining room and closed the door.
Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing
break down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of
mute despair, and then beat his palms together in a
helpless way. Finally he sat down on a chair, and putting
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his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, dry sobs
that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart.
Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to
the whole universe. ‘God! God! God!’ he said. ‘What have
we done, what has this poor thing done, that we are so
sore beset? Is there fate amongst us still, send down from
the pagan world of old, that such things must be, and in
such way? This poor mother, all unknowing, and all for
the best as she think, does such thing as lose her daughter
body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not
even warn her, or she die, then both die. Oh, how we are
beset! How are all the powers of the devils against us!’
Suddenly he jumped to his feet. ‘Come,’ he said,
‘come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the
devils at once, it matters not. We must fight him all the
same.’ He went to the hall door for his bag, and together
we went up to Lucy’s room.