Jonathan
Harker's Journal29 June Today is the date of my last letter, and
the Count has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave
the castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down the wall, lizard
fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, that I might destroy him.
But I fear that no weapon wrought along by man's hand would have any effect on
him. I dared not wait to see him return, for I feared to see those weird sisters.
I came back to the library, and read there till I fell asleep. I was awakened
by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man could look as he said, "Tomorrow,
my friend, we must part. You return to your beautiful England, I to some work
which may have such an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched.
Tomorrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the
morning come the Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and also come
some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear
you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am
in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula." I suspected
him, and determined to test his sincerity. Sincerity! It seems like a profanation
of the word to write it in connection with such a monster, so I asked him point-blank,
"Why may I not go tonight?" "Because, dear sir, my coachman
and horses are away on a mission." "But I would walk with pleasure.
I want to get away at once." He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical
smile that I knew there was some trick behind his smoothness. He said, "And
your baggage?" "I do not care about it. I can send for it some
other time." The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which
made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real, "You English have a saying which
is close to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our boyars, 'Welcome
the coming, speed the parting guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not
an hour shall you wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your
going, and that you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity,
he, with the lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he
stopped. "Hark!" Close at hand came the howling of many wolves.
It was almost as if the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the
music of a great orchestra seems to leap under the baton of the conductor. After
a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back
the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it open. To
my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, I looked all
round, but could see no key of any kind. As the door began to open, the
howling of the wolves without grew louder and angrier. Their red jaws, with champing
teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening
door. I knew than that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless.
With such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still
the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap.
Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom. I was
to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness
in the idea great enough for the Count, and as the last chance I cried out, "Shut
the door! I shall wait till morning." And I covered my face with my hands
to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep of his powerful
arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through
the hall as they shot back into their places. In silence we returned to
the library, and after a minute or two I went to my own room. The last I saw of
Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his
eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of. When I was
in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my door. I
went to it softly and listened. Unless my ears deceived me, I heard the voice
of the Count. "Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yet come.
Wait! Have patience! Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours!" There
was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and
saw without the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared, they all
joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away. I came back to my room and threw
myself on my knees. It is then so near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord, help
me, and those to whom I am dear! |
