Abraham Van Helsing
This to my old and true friend
John Seward, M.D., of Purfleet, London, in case I may not see him. It may explain.
It is morning, and I write by a fire which all the night I have kept alive, Madam
Mina aiding me. It is cold, cold. So cold that the grey heavy sky is full of snow,
which when it falls will settle for all winter as the ground is hardening to receive
it. It seems to have affected Madam Mina. She has been so heavy of head all day
that she was not like herself. She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps! She who is
usual so alert, have done literally nothing all the day. She even have lost her
appetite. She make no entry into her little diary, she who write so faithful at
every pause. Something whisper to me that all is not well. However, tonight she
is more _vif_. Her long sleep all day have refresh and restore her, for now she
is all sweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try to hypnotize her, but alas! with
no effect. The power has grown less and less with each day, and tonight it fail
me altogether. Well, God's will be done, whatever it may be, and whithersoever
it may lead!
Now to the historical, for as Madam Mina write not in her stenography,
I must, in my cumbrous old fashion, that so each day of us may not go unrecorded.
got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday morning. When I saw the signs
of the dawn I got ready for the hypnotism. We stopped our carriage, and got down
so that there might be no disturbance. I made a couch with furs, and Madam Mina,
lying down, yield herself as usual, but more slow and more short time than ever,
to the hypnotic sleep. As before, came the answer, "darkness and the swirling
of water." Then she woke, bright and radiant and we go on our way and soon
reach the Pass. At this time and place, she become all on fire with zeal. Some
new guiding power be in her manifested, for she point to a road and say, "This
is the way."
"How know you it?" I ask.
I know it," she answer, and with a pause, add, "Have not my Jonathan
travelled it and wrote of his travel?"
At first I think somewhat strange,
but soon I see that there be only one such byroad. It is used but little, and
very different from the coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz, which is more
wide and hard, and more of use.
So we came down this road. When we meet
other ways, not always were we sure that they were roads at all, for they be neglect
and light snow have fallen, the horses know and they only. I give rein to them,
and they go on so patient. By and by we find all the things which Jonathan have
note in that wonderful diary of him. Then we go on for long, long hours and hours.
At the first, I tell Madam Mina to sleep. She try, and she succeed. She sleep
all the time, till at the last, I feel myself to suspicious grow, and attempt
to wake her. But she sleep on, and I may not wake her though I try. I do not wish
to try too hard lest I harm her. For I know that she have suffer much, and sleep
at times be all-in-all to her. I think I drowse myself, for all of sudden I feel
guilt, as though I have done something. I find myself bolt up, with the reins
in my hand, and the good horses go along jog, jog, just as ever. I look down and
find Madam Mina still asleep. It is now not far off sunset time, and over the
snow the light of the sun flow in big yellow flood, so that we throw great long
shadow on where the mountain rise so steep. For we are going up, and up, and all
is oh so wild and rocky, as though it were the end of the world.
arouse Madam Mina. This time she wake with not much trouble, and then I try to
put her to hypnotic sleep. But she sleep not, being as though I were not. Still
I try and try, till all at once I find her and myself in dark, so I look round,
and find that the sun have gone down. Madam Mina laugh, and I turn and look at
her. She is now quite awake, and look so well as I never saw her since that night
at Carfax when we first enter the Count's house. I am amaze, and not at ease then.
But she is so bright and tender and thoughtful for me that I forget all fear.
I light a fire, for we have brought supply of wood with us, and she prepare food
while I undo the horses and set them, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then when
I return to the fire she have my supper ready. I go to help her, but she smile,
and tell me that she have eat already. That she was so hungry that she would not
wait. I like it not, and I have grave doubts. But I fear to affright her, and
so I am silent of it. She help me and I eat alone, and then we wrap in fur and
lie beside the fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch. But presently I forget
all of watching. And when I sudden remember that I watch, I find her lying quiet,
but awake, and looking at me with so bright eyes. Once, twice more the same occur,
and I get much sleep till before morning. When I wake I try to hypnotize her,
but alas! though she shut her eyes obedient, she may not sleep. The sun rise up,
and up, and up, and then sleep come to her too late, but so heavy that she will
not wake. I have to lift her up, and place her sleeping in the carriage when I
have harnessed the horses and made all ready. Madam still sleep, and she look
in her sleep more healthy and more redder than before. And I like it not. And
I am afraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things, even to think but I must
go on my way. The stake we play for is life and death, or more than these, and
we must not flinch