Jonathan Harker's Journal
30 October, night
I am writing this
in the light from the furnace door of the steam launch. Lord Godalming is firing
up. He is an experienced hand at the work, as he has had for years a launch of
his own on the Thames, and another on the Norfolk Broads. Regarding our plans,
we finally decided that Mina's guess was correct, and that if any waterway was
chosen for the Count's escape back to his Castle, the Sereth and then the Bistritza
at its junction, would be the one. We took it, that somewhere about the 47th degree,
north latitude, would be the place chosen for crossing the country between the
river and the Carpathians. We have no fear in running at good speed up the river
at night. There is plenty of water, and the banks are wide enough apart to make
steaming, even in the dark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells me to sleep for
a while, as it is enough for the present for one to be on watch. But I cannot
sleep, how can I with the terrible danger hanging over my darling, and her going
out into that awful place . . .
My only comfort is that we are in the hands
of God. Only for that faith it would be easier to die than to live, and so be
quit of all the trouble. Mr. Morris and Dr. Seward were off on their long ride
before we started. They are to keep up the right bank, far enough off to get on
higher lands where they can see a good stretch of river and avoid the following
of its curves. They have, for the first stages, two men to ride and lead their
spare horses, four in all, so as not to excite curiosity. When they dismiss the
men, which shall be shortly, they shall themselves look after the horses. It may
be necessary for us to join forces. If so they can mount our whole party. One
of the saddles has a moveable horn, and can be easily adapted for Mina, if required.
is a wild adventure we are on. Here, as we are rushing along through the darkness,
with the cold from the river seeming to rise up and strike us, with all the mysterious
voices of the night around us, it all comes home. We seem to be drifting into
unknown places and unknown ways. Into a whole world of dark and dreadful things.
Godalming is shutting the furnace door . . .