Dracula by Bram Stoker(9)

He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing
motioned him back. ‘No,’ he whispered, ‘not yet! Hold
her hand, it will comfort her more.’
So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and she
looked her best, with all the soft lines matching the angelic
beauty of her eyes. Then gradually her eyes closed, and
she sank to sleep. For a little bit her breast heaved softly,
and her breath came and went like a tired child’s.
Dracula
290 of 684
And then insensibly there came the strange change
which I had noticed in the night. Her breathing grew
stertorous, the mouth opened, and the pale gums, drawn
back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever. In
a sort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way she
opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once,
and said in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had never
heard from her lips, ‘Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad
you have come! Kiss me!’
Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her, but at that instant
Van Helsing, who, like me, had been startled by her voice,
swooped upon him, and catching him by the neck with
both hands, dragged him back with a fury of strength
which I never thought he could have possessed, and
actually hurled him almost across the room.
‘Not on your life!’ he said, ‘not for your living soul and
hers!’ And he stood between them like a lion at bay.
Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a
moment know what to do or say, and before any impulse
of violence could seize him he realized the place and the
occasion, and stood silent, waiting.

I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and
we saw a spasm as of rage flit like a shadow over her face.
Dracula
291 of 684
The sharp teeth clamped together. Then her eyes closed,
and she breathed heavily.
Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their
softness, and putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took
Van Helsing’s great brown one, drawing it close to her,
she kissed it. ‘My true friend,’ she said, in a faint voice, but
with untellable pathos, ‘My true friend, and his! Oh, guard
him, and give me peace!’
‘I swear it!’ he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and
holding up his hand, as one who registers an oath. Then
he turned to Arthur, and said to him, ‘Come, my child,
take her hand in yours, and kiss her on the forehead, and
only once.’
Their eyes met instead of their lips, and so they parted.
Lucy’s eyes closed, and Van Helsing, who had been
watching closely, took Arthur’s arm, and drew him away.
And then Lucy’s breathing became stertorous again,
and all at once it ceased.
‘It is all over,’ said Van Helsing. ‘She is dead!’
I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the
drawing room, where he sat down, and covered his face
with his hands, sobbing in a way that nearly broke me
down to see.
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Dracula
292 of 684
I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing
looking at poor Lucy, and his face was sterner than ever.
Some change had come over her body. Death had given
back part of her beauty, for her brow and cheeks had
recovered some of their flowing lines. Even the lips had
lost their deadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer
needed for the working of the heart, had gone to make
the harshness of death as little rude as might be.
‘We thought her dying whilst she slept, And sleeping
when she died.’
I stood beside Van Helsing, 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, alas! Not so. It is only the beginning!’
When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his
head and answered, ‘We can do nothing as yet. Wait and
see.’
Dracula
293 of 684
Chapter 13
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY—cont.
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, and the urbane
undertaker proved that his staff was afflicted, or blessed,
with something of his own obsequious suavity. Even the
woman who performed the last offices for the dead
remarked to me, in a confidential, brother-professional
way, when she had come out from the death chamber,
‘She makes a very beautiful corpse, sir. It’s quite a
privilege to attend on her. It’s not too much to say that
she will do credit to our establishment!’
I noticed that Van Helsing never kept far away. This
was possible from the disordered state of things in the
household. There were no relatives at hand, and as Arthur
had to be back the next day to attend at his father’s
funeral, we were unable to notify any one who should
have been bidden. Under the circumstances, Van Helsing
and I took it upon ourselves to examine papers, etc. He
insisted upon looking over Lucy’s papers himself. I asked
him why, for I feared that he, being a foreigner, might not
Dracula
294 of 684
be quite aware of English legal requirements, and so might
in ignorance make some unnecessary trouble.
He answered me, ‘I know, I know. You forget that I
am a lawyer as well as a doctor. But this is not altogether
for the law. You knew that, when you avoided the
coroner. I have more than him to avoid. There may be
papers more, such as this.’
As he spoke he took from his pocket book the
memorandum which had been in Lucy’s breast, and which
she had torn in her sleep.
‘When you find anything of the solicitor who is for the
late Mrs. Westenra, seal all her papers, and write him
tonight. For me, I watch here in the room and in Miss
Lucy’s old room all night, and I myself search for what
may be. It is not well that her very thoughts go into the
hands of strangers.’
I went on with my part of the work, and in another
half hour had found the name and address of Mrs.
Westenra’s solicitor and had written to him. All the poor
lady’s papers were in order. Explicit directions regarding
the place of burial were given. I had hardly sealed the
letter, when, to my surprise, Van Helsing walked into the
room, saying,
Dracula
295 of 684
‘Can I help you friend John? I am free, and if I may,
my service is to you.’
‘Have you got what you looked for?’ I asked.
To which he replied, ‘I did not look for any specific
thing. I only hoped to find, and find I have, all that there
was, only some letters and a few memoranda, and a diary
new begun. But I have them here, and we shall for the
present say nothing of them. I shall see that poor lad
tomorrow evening, and, with his sanction, I shall use
some.’
When we had finished the work in hand, he said to
me, ‘And now, friend John, I think we may to bed. We
want sleep, both you and I, and rest to recuperate.
Tomorrow we shall have much to do, but for the tonight
there is no need of us. Alas!’
Before turning in we went to look at poor Lucy. The
undertaker had certainly done his work well, for the room
was turned into a small chapelle ardente. There was a
wilderness of beautiful white flowers, and death was made
as little repulsive as might be. The end of the winding
sheet was laid over the face. When the Professor bent over
and turned it gently back, we both started at the beauty
before us. The tall wax candles showing a sufficient light
to note it well. All Lucy’s loveliness had come back to her
Dracula
296 of 684
in death, and the hours that had passed, instead of leaving
traces of ‘decay’s effacing fingers’, had but restored the
beauty of life, till positively I could not believe my eyes
that I was looking at a corpse.
The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not loved
her as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes.
He said to me, ‘Remain till I return,’ and left the room.
He came back with a handful of wild garlic from the box
waiting in the hall, but which had not been opened, and
placed the flowers amongst the others on and around the
bed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a little
gold crucifix, and placed it over the mouth. He restored
the sheet to its place, and we came away.
I was undressing in my own room, when, with a
premonitory tap at the door, he entered, and at once
began to speak.
‘Tomorrow 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 what 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! You, whom I have seen with no
tremble of hand or heart, do operations of life and death
Dracula
297 of 684
that make the rest shudder. Oh, but I must not forget, my
dear friend John, that you loved her, and I have not
forgotten it for is I that shall operate, and you must not
help. I would like to do it tonight, but for Arthur I must
not. He will be free after his father’s funeral tomorrow,
and he will want to see her, to see it. Then, when she is
coffined ready for the next day, you and I shall come
when all sleep. We shall unscrew the coffin lid, and shall
do our operation, and then replace all, so that none know,
save we alone.’
‘But why do it at all? The girl is dead. Why mutilate
her poor body without need? And if there is no necessity
for a post-mortem and nothing to gain by it, no good to
her, to us, to science, to human knowledge, why do it?
Without such it is monstrous.’
For answer he put his hand on my shoulder, and said,
with infinite tenderness, ‘Friend John, I pity your poor
bleeding heart, and I love you the more because it does so
bleed. If I could, I would take on myself the burden that
you do bear. But there are things that you know not, but
that you shall know, and bless me for knowing, though
they are not pleasant things. John, my child, you have
been my friend now many years, and yet did you ever
know me to do any without good cause? I may err, I am
Dracula
298 of 684
but man, but I believe in all I do. Was it not for these
causes that you send for me when the great trouble came?
Yes! Were you not amazed, nay horrified, when I would
not let Arthur kiss his love, though she was dying, and
snatched him away by all my strength? Yes! And yet you
saw how she thanked me, with her so beautiful dying
eyes, her voice, too, so weak, and she kiss my rough old
hand and bless me? Yes! And did you not hear me swear
promise to her, that so she closed her eyes grateful? Yes!
‘Well, I have good reason now for all I want to do.
You have for many years trust me. You have believe me
weeks past, when there be things so strange that you
might have well doubt. Believe me yet a little, friend
John. If you trust me not, then I must tell what I think,
and that is not perhaps well. And if I work, as work I shall,
no matter trust or no trust, without my friend trust in me,
I work with heavy heart and feel, oh so lonely when I
want all help and courage that may be!’ He paused a
moment and went on solemnly, ‘Friend John, there are
strange and terrible days before us. Let us not be two, but
one, that so we work to a good end. Will you not have
faith in me?’
I took his hand, and promised him. I held my door
open as he went away, and watched him go to his room
Dracula
299 of 684
and close the door. As I stood without moving, I saw one
of the maids pass silently along the passage, she had her
back to me, so did not see me, and go into the room
where Lucy lay. The sight touched me. Devotion is so
rare, and we are so grateful to those who show it unasked
to those we love. Here was a poor girl putting aside the
terrors which she naturally had of death to go watch alone
by the bier of the mistress whom she loved, so that the
poor clay might not be lonely till laid to eternal rest.
I must have slept long and soundly, for it was broad
daylight when Van Helsing waked me by coming into my
room. He came over to my bedside and said, ‘You need
not trouble about the knives. We shall not do it.’
‘Why not?’ I asked. For his solemnity of the night
before had greatly impressed me.
‘Because,’ he said sternly, ‘it is too late, or too early.
See!’ Here he held up the little golden crucifix.
‘This was stolen in the night.’
‘How stolen, ‘I asked in wonder, ‘since you have it
now?’
‘Because I get it back from the worthless wretch who
stole it, from the woman who robbed the dead and the
living. Her punishment will surely come, but not through
me. She knew not altogether what she did, and thus
Dracula
300 of 684
unknowing, she only stole. Now we must wait.’ He went
away on the word, leaving me with a new mystery to
think of, a new puzzle to grapple with.
The forenoon was a dreary time, but at noon the
solicitor came, Mr. Marquand, of Wholeman, Sons,
Marquand & Lidderdale. He was very genial and very
appreciative of what we had done, and took off our hands
all cares as to details. During lunch he told us that Mrs.
Westenra had for some time expected sudden death from
her heart, and had put her affairs in absolute order. He
informed us that, with the exception of a certain entailed
property of Lucy’s father which now, in default of direct
issue, went back to a distant branch of the family, the
whole estate, real and personal, was left absolutely to
Arthur Holmwood. When he had told us so much he
went on,
‘Frankly we did our best to prevent such a testamentary
disposition, and pointed out certain contingencies that
might leave her daughter either penniless or not so free as
she should be to act regarding a matrimonial alliance.
Indeed, we pressed the matter so far that we almost came
into collision, for she asked us if we were or were not
prepared to carry out her wishes. Of course, we had then
no alternative but to accept. We were right in principle,
Dracula
301 of 684
and ninety-nine times out of a hundred we should have
proved, by the logic of events, the accuracy of our
judgment.
‘Frankly, however, I must admit that in this case any
other form of disposition would have rendered impossible
the carrying out of her wishes. For by her predeceasing
her daughter the latter would have come into possession of
the property, and, even had she only survived her mother
by five minutes, her property would, in case there were no
will, and a will was a practical impossibility in such a case,
have been treated at her decease as under intestacy. In
which case Lord Godalming, though so dear a friend,
would have had no claim in the world. And the inheritors,
being remote, would not be likely to abandon their just
rights, for sentimental reasons regarding an entire stranger.
I assure you, my dear sirs, I am rejoiced at the result,
perfectly rejoiced.’
He was a good fellow, but his rejoicing at the one little
part, in which he was officially interested, of so great a
tragedy, was an object-lesson in the limitations of
sympathetic understanding.
He did not remain long, but said he would look in later
in the day and see Lord Godalming. His coming,
however, had been a certain comfort to us, since it assured
Dracula
302 of 684
us that we should not have to dread hostile criticism as to
any of our acts. Arthur was expected at five o’clock, so a
little before that time we visited the death chamber. It was
so in very truth, for now both mother and daughter lay in
it. The undertaker, true to his craft, had made the best
display he could of his goods, and there was a mortuary air
about the place that lowered our spirits at once.
Van Helsing ordered the former arrangement to be
adhered to, explaining that, as Lord Godalming was
coming very soon, it would be less harrowing to his
feelings to see all that was left of his fiancee quite alone.
The undertaker seemed shocked at his own stupidity
and exerted himself to restore things to the condition in
which we left them the night before, so that when Arthur
came such shocks to his feelings as we could avoid were
saved.
Poor fellow! He looked desperately sad and broken.
Even his stalwart manhood seemed to have shrunk
somewhat under the strain of his much-tried emotions. He
had, I knew, been very genuinely and devotedly attached
to his father, and to lose him, and at such a time, was a
bitter blow to him. With me he was warm as ever, and to
Van Helsing he was sweetly courteous. But I could not
help seeing that there was some constraint with him. The
Dracula
303 of 684
professor noticed it too, and motioned me to bring him
upstairs. I did so, and left him at the door of the room, as I
felt he would like to be quite alone with her, but he took
my arm and led me in, saying huskily,
‘You loved her too, old fellow. She told me all about
it, and there was no friend had a closer place in her heart
than you. I don’t know how to thank you for all you have
done for her. I can’t think yet …’
Here he suddenly broke down, and threw his arms
round my shoulders and laid his head on my breast,
crying, ‘Oh, Jack! Jack! What shall I do? The whole of life
seems gone from me all at once, and there is nothing in
the wide world for me to live for.’
I comforted him as well as I could. In such cases men
do not need much expression. A grip of the hand, the
tightening of an arm over the shoulder, a sob in unison,
are expressions of sympathy dear to a man’s heart. I stood
still and silent till his sobs died away, and then I said softly
to him, ‘Come and look at her.’
Together we moved over to the bed, and I lifted the
lawn from her face. God! How beautiful she was. Every
hour seemed to be enhancing her loveliness. It frightened
and amazed me somewhat. And as for Arthur, he fell to
trembling, and finally was shaken with doubt as with an
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Dracula
304 of 684
ague. At last, after a long pause, he said to me in a faint
whisper, ‘Jack, is she really dead?’
I assured him sadly that it was so, and went on to
suggest, for I felt that such a horrible doubt should not
have life for a moment longer than I could help, that it
often happened that after death faces become softened and
even resolved into their youthful beauty, that this was
especially so when death had been preceded by any acute
or prolonged suffering. I seemed to quite do away with
any doubt, and after kneeling beside the couch for a while
and looking at her lovingly and long, he turned aside. I
told him that that must be goodbye, as the coffin had to be
prepared, so he went back and took her dead hand in his
and kissed it, and bent over and kissed her forehead. He
came away, fondly looking back over his shoulder at her as
he came.
I left him in the drawing room, and told Van Helsing
that he had said goodbye, so the latter went to the kitchen
to tell the undertaker’s men to proceed with the
preparations and to screw up the coffin. When he came
out of the room again I told him of Arthur’s question, and
he replied, ‘I am not surprised. Just now I doubted for a
moment myself!’
Dracula
305 of 684
We all dined together, and I could see that poor Art
was trying to make the best of things. Van Helsing had
been silent all dinner time, but when we had lit our cigars
he said, ‘Lord …’ but Arthur interrupted him.
‘No, no, not that, for God’s sake! Not yet at any rate.
Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to speak offensively. It is
only because my loss is so recent.’
The Professor answered very sweetly, ‘I only used that
name because I was in doubt. I must not call you ‘Mr.’
and I have grown to love you, yes, my dear boy, to love
you, as Arthur.’
Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man’s
warmly. ‘Call me what you will,’ he said. ‘I hope I may
always have the title of a friend. And let me say that I am
at a loss for words to thank you for your goodness to my
poor dear.’ He paused a moment, and went on, ‘I know
that she understood your goodness even better than I do.
And if I was rude or in any way wanting at that time you
acted so, you remember,’—the Professor nodded—‘You
must forgive me.’
He answered with a grave kindness, ‘I know it was
hard for you to quite trust me then, for to trust such
violence needs to understand, and I take it that you do
not, that you cannot, trust me now, for you do not yet
Dracula
306 of 684
understand. And there may be more times when I shall
want you to trust when you cannot, and may not, and
must not yet understand. But the time will come when
your trust shall be whole and complete in me, and when
you shall understand as though the sunlight himself shone
through. Then you shall bless me from first to last for your
own sake, and for the sake of others, and for her dear sake
to whom I swore to protect.’
‘And indeed, indeed, sir,’ said Arthur warmly. ‘I shall in
all ways trust you. I know and believe you have a very
noble heart, and you are Jack’s friend, and you were hers.
You shall do what you like.’
The Professor cleared his throat a couple of times, as
though about to speak, and finally said, ‘May I ask you
something now?’
‘Certainly.’
‘You know that Mrs. Westenra left you all her
property?’
‘No, poor dear. I never thought of it.’
‘And as it is all yours, you have a right to deal with it as
you will. I want you to give me permission to read all
Miss Lucy’s papers and letters. Believe me, it is no idle
curiosity. I have a motive of which, be sure, she would
have approved. I have them all here. I took them before
Dracula
307 of 684
we knew that all was yours, so that no strange hand might
touch them, no strange eye look through words into her
soul. I shall keep them, if I may. Even you may not see
them yet, but I shall keep them safe. No word shall be
lost, and in the good time I shall give them back to you. It
is a hard thing that I ask, but you will do it, will you not,
for Lucy’s sake?’
Arthur spoke out heartily, like his old self, ‘Dr. Van
Helsing, you may do what you will. I feel that in saying
this I am doing what my dear one would have approved. I
shall not trouble you with questions till the time comes.’
The old Professor stood up as he said solemnly, ‘And
you are right. There will be pain for us all, but it will not
be all pain, nor will this pain be the last. We and you too,
you most of all, dear boy, will have to pass through the
bitter water before we reach the sweet. But we must be
brave of heart and unselfish, and do our duty, and all will
be well!’
I slept on a sofa in Arthur’s room that night. Van
Helsing did not go to bed at all. He went to and fro, as if
patroling the house, and was never out of sight of the
room where Lucy lay in her coffin, strewn with the wild
garlic flowers, which sent through the odour of lily and
rose, a heavy, overpowering smell into the night.
Dracula
308 of 684
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
22 September.—In the train to Exeter. Jonathan
sleeping. It seems only yesterday that the last entry was
made, and yet how much between then, in Whitby and all
the world before me, Jonathan away and no news of him,
and now, married to Jonathan, Jonathan a solicitor, a
partner, rich, master of his business, Mr. Hawkins dead
and buried, and Jonathan with another attack that may
harm him. Some day he may ask me about it. Down it all
goes. I am rusty in my shorthand, see what unexpected
prosperity does for us, so it may be as well to freshen it up
again with an exercise anyhow.
The service was very simple and very solemn. There
were only ourselves and the servants there, one or two old
friends of his from Exeter, his London agent, and a
gentleman representing Sir John Paxton, the President of
the Incorporated Law Society. Jonathan and I stood hand
in hand, and we felt that our best and dearest friend was
gone from us.
We came back to town quietly, taking a bus to Hyde
Park Corner. Jonathan thought it would interest me to go
into the Row for a while, so we sat down. But there were
very few people there, and it was sad-looking and desolate
to see so many empty chairs. It made us think of the
Dracula
309 of 684
empty chair at home. So we got up and walked down
Piccadilly. Jonathan was holding me by the arm, the way
he used to in the old days before I went to school. I felt it
very improper, for you can’t go on for some years
teaching etiquette and decorum to other girls without the
pedantry of it biting into yourself a bit. But it was
Jonathan, and he was my husband, and we didn’t know
anybody who saw us, and we didn’t care if they did, so on
we walked. I was looking at a very beautiful girl, in a big
cart-wheel hat, sitting in a victoria outside Guiliano’s,
when I felt Jonathan clutch my arm so tight that he hurt
me, and he said under his breath, ‘My God!’
I am always anxious about Jonathan, for I fear that
some nervous fit may upset him again. So I turned to him
quickly, and asked him what it was that disturbed him.
He was very pale, and his eyes seemed bulging out as,
half in terror and half in amazement, he gazed at a tall,
thin man, with a beaky nose and black moustache and
pointed beard, who was also observing the pretty girl. He
was looking at her so hard that he did not see either of us,
and so I had a good view of him. His face was not a good
face. It was hard, and cruel, and sensual, and big white
teeth, that looked all the whiter because his lips were so
red, were pointed like an animal’s. Jonathan kept staring at
Dracula
310 of 684
him, till I was afraid he would notice. I feared he might
take it ill, he looked so fierce and nasty. I asked Jonathan
why he was disturbed, and he answered, evidently
thinking that I knew as much about it as he did, ‘Do you
see who it is?’
‘No, dear,’ I said. ‘I don’t know him, who is it?’ His
answer seemed to shock and thrill me, for it was said as if
he did not know that it was me, Mina, to whom he was
speaking. ‘It is the man himself!’
The poor dear was evidently terrified at something,
very greatly terrified. I do believe that if he had not had
me to lean on and to support him he would have sunk
down. He kept staring. A man came out of the shop with
a small parcel, and gave it to the lady, who then drove off.
The dark man kept his eyes fixed on her, and when the
carriage moved up Piccadilly he followed in the same
direction, and hailed a hansom. Jonathan kept looking
after him, and said, as if to himself,
‘I believe it is the Count, but he has grown young. My
God, if this be so! Oh, my God! My God! If only I knew!
If only I knew!’ He was distressing himself so much that I
feared to keep his mind on the subject by asking him any
questions, so I remained silent. I drew away quietly, and
he, holding my arm, came easily. We walked a little
Dracula
311 of 684
further, and then went in and sat for a while in the Green
Park. It was a hot day for autumn, and there was a
comfortable seat in a shady place. After a few minutes’
staring at nothing, Jonathan’s eyes closed, and he went
quickly into a sleep, with his head on my shoulder. I
thought it was the best thing for him, so did not disturb
him. In about twenty minutes he woke up, and said to me
quite cheerfully,
‘Why, Mina, have I been asleep! Oh, do forgive me for
being so rude. Come, and we’ll have a cup of tea
somewhere.’
He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger,
as in his illness he had forgotten all that this episode had
reminded him of. I don’t like this lapsing into
forgetfulness. It may make or continue some injury to the
brain. I must not ask him, for fear I shall do more harm
than good, but I must somehow learn the facts of his
journey abroad. The time is come, I fear, when I must
open the parcel, and know what is written. Oh, Jonathan,
you will, I know, forgive me if I do wrong, but it is for
your own dear sake.
Later.—A sad homecoming in every way, the house
empty of the dear soul who was so good to us. Jonathan
still pale and dizzy under a slight relapse of his malady, and
Dracula
312 of 684
now a telegram from Van Helsing, whoever he may be.
‘You will be grieved to hear that Mrs. Westenra died five
days ago, and that Lucy died the day before yesterday.
They were both buried today.’
Oh, what a wealth of sorrow in a few words! Poor
Mrs. Westenra! Poor Lucy! Gone, gone, never to return
to us! And poor, poor Arthur, to have lost such a
sweetness out of his life! God help us all to bear our
troubles.
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY-CONT.
22 September.—It is all over. Arthur has gone back to
Ring, and has taken Quincey Morris with him. What a
fine fellow is Quincey! I believe in my heart of hearts that
he suffered as much about Lucy’s death as any of us, but
he bore himself through it like a moral Viking. If America
can go on breeding men like that, she will be a power in
the world indeed. Van Helsing is lying down, having a rest
preparatory to his journey. He goes to Amsterdam tonight,
but says he returns tomorrow night, that he only wants to
make some arrangements which can only be made
personally. He is to stop with me then, if he can. He says
he has work to do in London which may take him some
time. Poor old fellow! I fear that the strain of the past
week has broken down even his iron strength. All the
Dracula
313 of 684
time of the burial he was, I could see, putting some
terrible restraint on himself. When it was all over, we
were standing beside Arthur, who, poor fellow, was
speaking of his part in the operation where his blood had
been transfused to his Lucy’s veins. I could see Van
Helsing’s face grow white and purple by turns. Arthur was
saying that he felt since then as if they two had been really
married, and that she was his wife in the sight of God.
None of us said a word of the other operations, and none
of us ever shall. Arthur and Quincey went away together
to the station, and Van Helsing and I came on here. The
moment we were alone in the carriage he gave way to a
regular fit of hysterics. He has denied to me since that it
was hysterics, and insisted that it was only his sense of
humor asserting itself under very terrible conditions. He
laughed till he cried, and I had to draw down the blinds
lest any one should see us and misjudge. And then he
cried, till he laughed again, and laughed and cried
together, just as a woman does. I tried to be stern with
him, as one is to a woman under the circumstances, but it
had no effect. Men and women are so different in
manifestations of nervous strength or weakness! Then
when his face grew grave and stern again I asked him why
his mirth, and why at such a time. His reply was in a way
Dracula
314 of 684
characteristic of him, for it was logical and forceful and
mysterious. He said,
‘Ah, you don’t comprehend, friend John. Do not think
that I am not sad, though I laugh. See, I have cried even
when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I
am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the
same. Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at
your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not true laughter.
No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He
ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, ‘I
am here.’ Behold, in example I grieve my heart out for
that so sweet young girl. I give my blood for her, though I
am old and worn. I give my time, my skill, my sleep. I let
my other sufferers want that she may have all. And yet I
can laugh at her very grave, laugh when the clay from the
spade of the sexton drop upon her coffin and say ‘Thud,
thud!’ to my heart, till it send back the blood from my
cheek. My heart bleed for that poor boy, that dear boy, so
of the age of mine own boy had I been so blessed that he
live, and with his hair and eyes the same.
‘There, you know now why I love him so. And yet
when he say things that touch my husband-heart to the
quick, and make my father-heart yearn to him as to no
other man, not even you, friend John, for we are more
Dracula
315 of 684
level in experiences than father and son, yet even at such a
moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and bellow
in my ear,‘Here I am! Here I am!’ till the blood come
dance back and bring some of the sunshine that he carry
with him to my cheek. 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. And believe me, friend John, that
he is good to come, and kind. Ah, we men and women
are like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us different
ways. Then tears come, and like the rain on the ropes,
they brace us up, until perhaps the strain become too
great, and we break. But King Laugh he come like the
sunshine, and he ease off the strain again, and we bear to
go on with our labor, what it may be.’
I did not like to wound him by pretending not to see
his idea, but as I did not yet understand the cause of his
laughter, I asked him. As he answered me his face grew
stern, and he said in quite a different tone,
‘Oh, it was the grim irony of it all, this so lovely lady
garlanded with flowers, that looked so fair as life, till one
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Dracula
316 of 684
by one we wondered if she were truly dead, she laid in
that so fine marble house in that lonely churchyard, where
rest so many of her kin, laid there with the mother who
loved her, and whom she loved, and that sacred bell going
‘Toll! Toll! Toll!’ so sad and slow, and those holy men,
with the white garments of the angel, pretending to read
books, and yet all the time their eyes never on the page,
and all of us with the bowed head. And all for what? She
is dead, so! Is it not?’
‘Well, for the life of me, Professor,’ I said, ‘I can’t see
anything to laugh at in all that. Why, your expression
makes it a harder puzzle than before. But even if the burial
service was comic, what about poor Art and his trouble?
Why his heart was simply breaking.’
‘Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to
her veins had made her truly his bride?’
‘Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him.’
‘Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so
that, then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this so
sweet maid is a polyandrist, and me, with my poor wife
dead to me, but alive by Church’s law, though no wits, all
gone, even I, who am faithful husband to this now-nowife,
am bigamist.’
Dracula
317 of 684
‘I don’t see where the joke comes in there either!’ I
said, and I did not feel particularly pleased with him for
saying such things. He laid his hand on my arm, and said,
‘Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not my
feeling to others when it would wound, but only to you,
my old friend, whom I can trust. If you could have looked
into my heart then when I want to laugh, if you could
have done so when the laugh arrived, if you could do so
now, when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and all
that is to him, for he go far, far away from me, and for a
long, long time, maybe you would perhaps pity me the
most of all.’
I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and asked
why.
‘Because I know!’
And now we are all scattered, and for many a long day
loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.
Lucy lies in the tomb of her kin, a lordly death house in a
lonely churchyard, away from teeming London, where the
air is fresh, and the sun rises over Hampstead Hill, and
where wild flowers grow of their own accord.
So I can finish this diary, and God only knows if I shall
ever begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it
will be to deal with different people and different themes,
Dracula
318 of 684
for here at the end, where the romance of my life is told,
ere I go back to take up the thread of my life-work, I say
sadly and without hope, ‘FINIS".
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25
SEPTEMBER A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY
The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present
exercised with a series of events which seem to run on
lines parallel to those of what was known to the writers of
headlines as ‘The Kensington Horror,’ or ‘The Stabbing
Woman,’ or ‘The Woman in Black.’ During the past two
or three days several cases have occurred of young
children straying from home or neglecting to return from
their playing on the Heath. In all these cases the children
were too young to give any properly intelligible account
of themselves, but the consensus of their excuses is that
they had been with a ‘bloofer lady.’ It has always been late
in the evening when they have been missed, and on two
occasions the children have not been found until early in
the following morning. It is generally supposed in the
neighborhood that, as the first child missed gave as his
reason for being away that a ‘bloofer lady’ had asked him
to come for a walk, the others had picked up the phrase
and used it as occasion served. This is the more natural as
the favourite game of the little ones at present is luring
Dracula
319 of 684
each other away by wiles. A correspondent writes us that
to see some of the tiny tots pretending to be the ‘bloofer
lady’ is supremely funny. Some of our caricaturists might,
he says, take a lesson in the irony of grotesque by
comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in
accordance with general principles of human nature that
the ‘bloofer lady’ should be the popular role at these al
fresco performances. Our correspondent naively says that
even Ellen Terry could not be so winningly attractive as
some of these grubby-faced little children pretend, and
even imagine themselves, to be.
There is, however, possibly a serious side to the
question, for some of the children, indeed all who have
been missed at night, have been slightly torn or wounded
in the throat. The wounds seem such as might be made by
a rat or a small dog, and although of not much importance
individually, would tend to show that whatever animal
inflicts them has a system or method of its own. The
police of the division have been instructed to keep a sharp
lookout for straying children, especially when very young,
in and around Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog
which may be about.
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25
SEPTEMBER EXTRA SPECIAL
Dracula
320 of 684
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".
Dracula
321 of 684
Chapter 14
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
23 September.—Jonathan is better after a bad night. I
am so glad that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps
his mind off the terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that
he is not now weighed down with the responsibility of his
new position. I knew he would be true to himself, and
now how proud I am to see my Jonathan rising to the
height of his advancement and keeping pace in all ways
with the duties that come upon him. He will be away all
day till late, for he said he could not lunch at home. My
household work is done, so I shall take his foreign journal,
and lock myself up in my room and read it.
24 September.—I hadn’t the heart to write last night,
that terrible record of Jonathan’s upset me so. Poor dear!
How he must have suffered, whether it be true or only
imagination. I wonder if there is any truth in it at all. Did
he get his brain fever, and then write all those terrible
things, or had he some cause for it all? I suppose I shall
never know, for I dare not open the subject to him. And
yet that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain of
Dracula
322 of 684
him, poor fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him
and sent his mind back on some train of thought.
He believes it all himself. I remember how on our
wedding day he said ‘Unless some solemn duty come
upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake,
mad or sane …’ There seems to be through it all some
thread of continuity. That fearful Count was coming to
London. If it should be, and he came to London, with its
teeming millions … There may be a solemn duty, and if it
come we must not shrink from it. I shall be prepared. I
shall get my typewriter this very hour and begin
transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if
required. And if it be wanted, then, perhaps, if I am ready,
poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him
and never let him be troubled or worried with it at all. If
ever Jonathan quite gets over the nervousness he may
want to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and
find out things, and see how I may comfort him.
LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER
24 September
(Confidence)
‘Dear Madam,
‘I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far
friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy
Dracula
323 of 684
Westenra’s death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming, I
am empowered to read her letters and papers, for I am
deeply concerned about certain matters vitally important.
In them I find some letters from you, which show how
great friends you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam
Mina, by that love, I implore you, help me. It is for
others’ good that I ask, to redress great wrong, and to lift
much and terrible troubles, that may be more great than
you can know. May it be that I see you? You can trust
me. I am friend of Dr. John Seward and of Lord
Godalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I must keep it
private for the present from all. I should come to Exeter to
see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, and
where and when. I implore your pardon, Madam. I have
read your letters to poor Lucy, and know how good you
are and how your husband suffer. So I pray you, if it may
be, enlighten him not, least it may harm. Again your
pardon, and forgive me.
‘VAN HELSING.’
TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING
25 September.—Come today by quarter past ten train if
you can catch it. Can see you any time you call.
‘WILHELMINA HARKER.’
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
Dracula
324 of 684
25 September.—I cannot help feeling terribly excited as
the time draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing, for
somehow I expect that it will throw some light upon
Jonathan’s sad experience, and as he attended poor dear
Lucy in her last illness, he can tell me all about her. That is
the reason of his coming. It is concerning Lucy and her
sleep-walking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall never
know the real truth now! How silly I am. That awful
journal gets hold of my imagination and tinges everything
with something of its own colour. Of course it is about
Lucy. That habit came back to the poor dear, and that
awful night on the cliff must have made her ill. I had
almost forgotten in my own affairs how ill she was
afterwards. She must have told him of her sleep-walking
adventure on the cliff, and that I knew all about it, and
now he wants me to tell him what I know, so that he may
understand. I hope I did right in not saying anything of it
to Mrs. Westenra. I should never forgive myself if any act
of mine, were it even a negative one, brought harm on
poor dear Lucy. I hope too, Dr. Van Helsing will not
blame me. I have had so much trouble and anxiety of late
that I feel I cannot bear more just at present.
I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the air
as other rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal
Dracula
325 of 684
yesterday that upset me, and then Jonathan went away this
morning to stay away from me a whole day and night, the
first time we have been parted since our marriage. I do
hope the dear fellow will take care of himself, and that
nothing will occur to upset him. It is two o’clock, and the
doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing of
Jonathan’s journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have
typewritten out my own journal, so that, in case he asks
about Lucy, I can hand it to him. It will save much
questioning.
Later.—He has come and gone. Oh, what a strange
meeting, and how it all makes my head whirl round. I feel
like one in a dream. Can it be all possible, or even a part
of it? If I had not read Jonathan’s journal first, I should
never have accepted even a possibility. Poor, poor, dear
Jonathan! How he must have suffered. Please the good
God, all this may not upset him again. I shall try to save
him from it. But it may be even a consolation and a help
to him, terrible though it be and awful in its
consequences, to know for certain that his eyes and ears
and brain did not deceive him, and that it is all true. It
may be that it is the doubt which haunts him, that when
the doubt is removed, no matter which, waking or
dreaming, may prove the truth, he will be more satisfied
Dracula
326 of 684
and better able to bear the shock. Dr. Van Helsing must
be a good man as well as a clever one if he is Arthur’s
friend and Dr. Seward’s, and if they brought him all the
way from Holland to look after Lucy. I feel from having
seen him that he is good and kind and of a noble nature.
When he comes tomorrow I shall ask him about Jonathan.
And then, please God, all this sorrow and anxiety may lead
to a good end. I used to think I would like to practice
interviewing. Jonathan’s friend on ‘The Exeter News’ told
him that memory is everything in such work, that you
must be able to put down exactly almost every word
spoken, even if you had to refine some of it afterwards.
Here was a rare interview. I shall try to record it verbatim.
It was half-past two o’clock when the knock came. I
took my courage a deux mains and waited. In a few
minutes Mary opened the door, and announced ‘Dr. Van
Helsing".
I rose and bowed, and he came towards me, a man of
medium weight, strongly built, with his shoulders set back
over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the
trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise of the head
strikes me at once as indicative of thought and power. The
head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears.
The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large
Dracula
327 of 684
resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight,
but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as
the big bushy brows come down and the mouth tightens.
The forehead is broad and fine, rising at first almost
straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges
wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot
possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the
sides. Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart, and are
quick and tender or stern with the man’s moods. He said
to me,
‘Mrs. Harker, is it not?’ I bowed assent.
‘That was Miss Mina Murray?’ Again I assented.
‘It is Mina Murray that I came to see that was friend of
that poor dear child Lucy Westenra. Madam Mina, it is on
account of the dead that I come.’
‘Sir,’ I said, ‘you could have no better claim on me
than that you were a friend and helper of Lucy Westenra.’
And I held out my hand. He took it and said tenderly,
‘Oh, Madam Mina, I know that the friend of that poor
little girl must be good, but I had yet to learn …’ He
finished his speech with a courtly bow. I asked him what
it was that he wanted to see me about, so he at once
began.
eBook brought to you by
Create, view, and edit PDF. Download the free trial version.
Dracula
328 of 684
‘I have read your letters to Miss Lucy. Forgive me, but
I had to begin to inquire somewhere, and there was none
to ask. I know that you were with her at Whitby. She
sometimes kept a diary, you need not look surprised,
Madam Mina. It was begun after you had left, and was an
imitation of you, and in that diary she traces by inference
certain things to a sleep-walking in which she puts down
that you saved her. In great perplexity then I come to you,
and ask you out of your so much kindness to tell me all of
it that you can remember.’
‘I can tell you, I think, Dr. Van Helsing, all about it.’
‘Ah, then you have good memory for facts, for details?
It is not always so with young ladies.’
‘No, doctor, but I wrote it all down at the time. I can
show it to you if you like.’
‘Oh, Madam Mina, I well be grateful. You will do me
much favour.’
I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a
bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that
remains still in our mouths, so I handed him the shorthand
diary. He took it with a grateful bow, and said, ‘May I
read it?’
Dracula
329 of 684
‘If you wish,’ I answered as demurely as I could. He
opened it, and for an instant his face fell. Then he stood
up and bowed.
‘Oh, you so clever woman!’ he said. ‘I knew long that
Mr. Jonathan was a man of much thankfulness, but see, his
wife have all the good things. And will you not so much
honour me and so help me as to read it for me? Alas! I
know not the shorthand.’
By this time my little joke was over, and I was almost
ashamed. So I took the typewritten copy from my work
basket and handed it to him.
‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘I could not help it, but I had been
thinking that it was of dear Lucy that you wished to ask,
and so that you might not have time to wait, not on my
account, but because I know your time must be precious,
I have written it out on the typewriter for you.’
He took it and his eyes glistened. ‘You are so good,’ he
said. ‘And may I read it now? I may want to ask you some
things when I have read.’
‘By all means,’ I said, ‘read it over whilst I order lunch,
and then you can ask me questions whilst we eat.’
He bowed and settled himself in a chair with his back
to the light, and became so absorbed in the papers, whilst I
went to see after lunch chiefly in order that he might not
Dracula
330 of 684
be disturbed. When I came back, I found him walking
hurriedly up and down the room, his face all ablaze with
excitement. He rushed up to me and took me by both
hands.
‘Oh, Madam Mina,’ he said, ‘how can I say what I owe
to you? This paper is as sunshine. It opens the gate to me.
I am dazed, I am dazzled, with so much light, and yet
clouds roll in behind the light every time. But that you do
not, cannot comprehend. Oh, but I am grateful to you,
you so clever woman. Madame,’ he said this very
solemnly, ‘if ever Abraham Van Helsing can do anything
for you or yours, I trust you will let me know. It will be
pleasure and delight if I may serve you as a friend, as a
friend, but all I have ever learned, all I can ever do, shall
be for you and those you love. There are darknesses in
life, and there are lights. You are one of the lights. You
will have a happy life and a good life, and your husband
will be blessed in you.’
‘But, doctor, you praise me too much, and you do not
know me.’
‘Not know you, I, who am old, and who have studied
all my life men and women, I who have made my
specialty the brain and all that belongs to him and all that
follow from him! And I have read your diary that you
Dracula
331 of 684
have so goodly written for me, and which breathes out
truth in every line. I, who have read your so sweet letter
to poor Lucy of your marriage and your trust, not know
you! Oh, Madam Mina, good women tell all their lives,
and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that
angels can read. And we men who wish to know have in
us something of angels’ eyes. Your husband is noble
nature, and you are noble too, for you trust, and trust
cannot be where there is mean nature. And your husband,
tell me of him. Is he quite well? Is all that fever gone, and
is he strong and hearty?’
I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so I
said, ‘He was almost recovered, but he has been greatly
upset by Mr. Hawkins death.’
He interrupted, ‘Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have read
your last two letters.’
I went on, ‘I suppose this upset him, for when we were
in town on Thursday last he had a sort of shock.’
‘A shock, and after brain fever so soon! That is not
good. What kind of shock was it?’
‘He thought he saw some one who recalled something
terrible, something which led to his brain fever.’ And here
the whole thing seemed to overwhelm me in a rush. The
pity for Jonathan, the horror which he experienced, the
Dracula
332 of 684