Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER 12


DR. SEWARD'S DIARY

18 September.--I drove at once to Hillingham and arrived early.
Keeping my cab at the gate, I went up the avenue alone. I knocked
gently and rang as quietly as possible, for I feared to disturb Lucy
or her mother, and hoped to only bring a servant to the door. After a
while, finding no response, I knocked and rang again, still no
answer. I cursed the laziness of the servants that they should lie
abed at such an hour, for it was now ten o'clock, and so rang and
knocked again, but more impatiently, but still without response.
Hitherto I had blamed only the servants, but now a terrible fear began
to assail me. Was this desolation but another link in the chain of
doom which seemed drawing tight round us? Was it indeed a house of
death to which I had come, too late? I know that minutes, even
seconds of delay, might mean hours of danger to Lucy, if she had had
again one of those frightful relapses, and I went round the house to
try if I could find by chance an entry anywhere.

I could find no means of ingress. Every window and door was fastened
and locked, and I returned baffled to the porch. As I did so, I heard
the rapid pit-pat of a swiftly driven horse's feet. They stopped at
the gate, and a few seconds later I met Van Helsing running up the
avenue. When he saw me, he gasped out, "Then it was you, and just
arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you not get my telegram?"

I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that I had only got
his telegram early in the morning, and had not a minute in coming
here, and that I could not make any one in the house hear me. He
paused and raised his hat as he said solemnly, "Then I fear we are too
late. God's will be done!"

With his usual recuperative energy, he went on, "Come. If there be no
way open to get in, we must make one. Time is all in all to us now."

We went round to the back of the house, where there was a kitchen
window. The Professor took a small surgical saw from his case, and
handing it to me, pointed to the iron bars which guarded the window.
I attacked them at once and had very soon cut through three of them.
Then with a long, thin knife we pushed back the fastening of the
sashes and opened the window. I helped the Professor in, and followed
him. There was no one in the kitchen or in the servants' rooms, which
were close at hand. We tried all the rooms as we went along, and in
the dining room, dimly lit by rays of light through the shutters,
found four servant women lying on the floor. There was no need to
think them dead, for their stertorous breathing and the acrid smell of
laudanum in the room left no doubt as to their condition.

Van Helsing and I looked at each other, and as we moved away he said,
"We can attend to them later." Then we ascended to Lucy's room. For an
instant or two we paused at the door to listen, but there was no sound
that we could hear. With white faces and trembling hands, we opened
the door gently, and entered the room.

How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay two women, Lucy and
her mother. The latter lay farthest in, and she was covered with a
white sheet, the edge of which had been blown back by the drought
through the broken window, showing the drawn, white, face, with a look
of terror fixed upon it. By her side lay Lucy, with face white and
still more drawn. The flowers which had been round her neck we found
upon her mother's bosom, and her throat was bare, showing the two
little wounds which we had noticed before, but looking horribly white
and mangled. Without a word the Professor bent over the bed, his head
almost touching poor Lucy's breast. Then he gave a quick turn of his
head, as of one who listens, and leaping to his feet, he cried out to
me, "It is not yet too late! Quick! Quick! Bring the brandy!"

I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and taste
it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I
found on the table. The maids were still breathing, but more
restlessly, and I fancied that the narcotic was wearing off. I did
not stay to make sure, but returned to Van Helsing. He rubbed the
brandy, as on another occasion, on her lips and gums and on her wrists
and the palms of her hands. He said to me, "I can do this, all that
can be at the present. You go wake those maids. Flick them in the
face with a wet towel, and flick them hard. Make them get heat and
fire and a warm bath. This poor soul is nearly as cold as that beside
her. She will need be heated before we can do anything more."

I went at once, and found little difficulty in waking three of the
women. The fourth was only a young girl, and the drug had evidently
affected her more strongly so I lifted her on the sofa and let her
sleep.

The others were dazed at first, but as remembrance came back to them
they cried and sobbed in a hysterical manner. I was stern with them,
however, and would not let them talk. I told them that one life was
bad enough to lose, and if they delayed they would sacrifice Miss
Lucy. So, sobbing and crying they went about their way, half clad as
they were, and prepared fire and water. Fortunately, the kitchen and
boiler fires were still alive, and there was no lack of hot water. We
got a bath and carried Lucy out as she was and placed her in it.
Whilst we were busy chafing her limbs there was a knock at the hall
door. One of the maids ran off, hurried on some more clothes, and
opened it. Then she returned and whispered to us that there was a
gentleman who had come with a message from Mr. Holmwood. I bade her
simply tell him that he must wait, for we could see no one now. She
went away with the message, and, engrossed with our work, I clean
forgot all about him.

I never saw in all my experience the Professor work in such deadly
earnest. I knew, as he knew, that it was a stand-up fight with death,
and in a pause told him so. He answered me in a way that I did not
understand, but with the sternest look that his face could wear.

"If that were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her
fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon." He
went on with his work with, if possible, renewed and more frenzied
vigour.

Presently we both began to be conscious that the heat was beginning to
be of some effect. Lucy's heart beat a trifle more audibly to the
stethoscope, and her lungs had a perceptible movement. Van Helsing's
face almost beamed, and as we lifted her from the bath and rolled her
in a hot sheet to dry her he said to me, "The first gain is ours!
Check to the King!"

We took Lucy into another room, which had by now been prepared, and
laid her in bed and forced a few drops of brandy down her throat. I
noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief round her
throat. She was still unconscious, and was quite as bad as, if not
worse than, we had ever seen her.

Van Helsing called in one of the women, and told her to stay with her
and not to take her eyes off her till we returned, and then beckoned
me out of the room.

"We must consult as to what is to be done," he said as we descended
the stairs. In the hall he opened the dining room door, and we passed
in, he closing the door carefully behind him. The shutters had been
opened, but the blinds were already down, with that obedience to the
etiquette of death which the British woman of the lower classes always
rigidly observes. The room was, therefore, dimly dark. It was,
however, light enough for our purposes. Van Helsing's sternness was
somewhat relieved by a look of perplexity. He was evidently torturing
his mind about something, so I waited for an instant, and he spoke.

"What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for help? We must have
another transfusion of blood, and that soon, or that poor girl's life
won't be worth an hour's purchase. You are exhausted already. I am
exhausted too. I fear to trust those women, even if they would have
courage to submit. What are we to do for some one who will open his
veins for her?"

"What's the matter with me, anyhow?"

The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its tones brought
relief and joy to my heart, for they were those of Quincey Morris.

Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but his face softened
and a glad look came into his eyes as I cried out, "Quincey Morris!"
and rushed towards him with outstretched hands.

"What brought you here?" I cried as our hands met.

"I guess Art is the cause."

He handed me a telegram.--'Have not heard from Seward for three days,
and am terribly anxious. Cannot leave. Father still in same
condition. Send me word how Lucy is. Do not delay.--Holmwood.'

"I think I came just in the nick of time. You know you have only to
tell me what to do."

Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in
the eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this
earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake. Well,
the devil may work against us for all he's worth, but God sends us men
when we want them."

Once again we went through that ghastly operation. I have not the
heart to go through with the details. Lucy had got a terrible shock
and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went
into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as
on the other occasions. Her struggle back into life was something
frightful to see and hear. However, the action of both heart and
lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a sub-cutaneous injection of
morphia, as before, and with good effect. Her faint became a profound
slumber. The Professor watched whilst I went downstairs with Quincey
Morris, and sent one of the maids to pay off one of the cabmen who
were waiting.

I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told the
cook to get ready a good breakfast. Then a thought struck me, and I
went back to the room where Lucy now was. When I came softly in, I
found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note paper in his hand. He
had evidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat with his
hand to his brow. There was a look of grim satisfaction in his face,
as of one who has had a doubt solved. He handed me the paper saying
only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried her to the bath."

When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, and after a
pause asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or
is she, mad, or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so
bewildered that I did not know what to say more. Van Helsing put out
his hand and took the paper, saying,

"Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present. You shall
know and understand it all in good time, but it will be later. And
now what is it that you came to me to say?" This brought me back to
fact, and I was all myself again.

"I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we do not act
properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would
have to be produced. I am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for
if we had it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else did. I
know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that
Mrs. Westenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify that she
died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at once, and I shall take
it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker."

"Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she
be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends
that love her. One, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides
one old man. Ah, yes, I know, friend John. I am not blind! I love
you all the more for it! Now go."

In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling
him that Mrs. Westenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was
now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were with her. I told
him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said,

"When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all to
ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went out. I found no difficulty
about the registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come
up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements.

When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see
him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was
still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his
seat at her side. From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered
that he expected her to wake before long and was afraid of
fore-stalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took him into the
breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawn down, and which was a
little more cheerful, or rather less cheerless, than the other rooms.

When we were alone, he said to me, "Jack Seward, I don't want to shove
myself in anywhere where I've no right to be, but this is no ordinary
case. You know I loved that girl and wanted to marry her, but
although that's all past and gone, I can't help feeling anxious about
her all the same. What is it that's wrong with her? The Dutchman,
and a fine old fellow he is, I can see that, said that time you two
came into the room, that you must have another transfusion of blood,
and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well that you
medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know
what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and
whatever it is, I have done my part. Is not that so?"

"That's so," I said, and he went on.

"I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did
today. Is not that so?"

"That's so."

"And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago down at
his own place he looked queer. I have not seen anything pulled down
so quick since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of
go to grass all in a night. One of those big bats that they call
vampires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorge and the
vein left open, there wasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up,
and I had to put a bullet through her as she lay. Jack, if you may
tell me without betraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not
that so?"

As he spoke the poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a
torture of suspense regarding the woman he loved, and his utter
ignorance of the terrible mystery which seemed to surround her
intensified his pain. His very heart was bleeding, and it took all
the manhood of him, and there was a royal lot of it, too, to keep him
from breaking down. I paused before answering, for I felt that I must
not betray anything which the Professor wished kept secret, but
already he knew so much, and guessed so much, that there could be no
reason for not answering, so I answered in the same phrase.

"That's so."

"And how long has this been going on?"

"About ten days."

"Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creature
that we all love has had put into her veins within that time the blood
of four strong men. Man alive, her whole body wouldn't hold it." Then
coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper. "What took it
out?"

I shook my head. "That," I said, "is the crux. Van Helsing is simply
frantic about it, and I am at my wits' end. I can't even hazard a
guess. There has been a series of little circumstances which have
thrown out all our calculations as to Lucy being properly watched.
But these shall not occur again. Here we stay until all be well, or
ill."

Quincey held out his hand. "Count me in," he said. "You and the
Dutchman will tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy's first movement was to feel
in her breast, and to my surprise, produced the paper which Van
Helsing had given me to read. The careful Professor had replaced it
where it had come from, lest on waking she should be alarmed. Her
eyes then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and gladdened. Then she
looked round the room, and seeing where she was, shuddered. She gave
a loud cry, and put her poor thin hands before her pale face.

We both understood what was meant, that she had realized to the full
her mother's death. So we tried what we could to comfort her.
Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, but she was very low in thought
and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for a long time. We told her
that either or both of us would now remain with her all the time, and
that seemed to comfort her. Towards dusk she fell into a doze. Here
a very odd thing occurred. Whilst still asleep she took the paper
from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped over and took
the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went on with the
action of tearing, as though the material were still in her hands.
Finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering the
fragments. Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as if
in thought, but he said nothing.


19 September.--All last night she slept fitfully, being always afraid
to sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it. The Professor
and I took in turns to watch, and we never left her for a moment
unattended. Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I
knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in poor
Lucy's strength. She was hardly able to turn her head, and the little
nourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good. At times
she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her,
between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger,
although more haggard, and her breathing was softer. Her open mouth
showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which looked
positively longer and sharper than usual. When she woke the softness
of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own
self, although a dying one. In the afternoon she asked for Arthur,
and we telegraphed for him. Quincey went off to meet him at the
station.

When he arrived it was nearly six o'clock, and the sun was setting
full and warm, and the red light streamed in through the window and
gave more colour to the pale cheeks. When he saw her, Arthur was
simply choking with emotion, and none of us could speak. In the hours
that had passed, the fits of sleep, or the comatose condition that
passed for it, had grown more frequent, so that the pauses when
conversation was possible were shortened. Arthur's presence, however,
seemed to act as a stimulant. She rallied a little, and spoke to him
more brightly than she had done since we arrived. He too pulled
himself together, and spoke as cheerily as he could, so that the best
was made of everything.

It is now nearly one o'clock, and he and Van Helsing are sitting with
her. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an hour, and I am entering
this on Lucy's phonograph. Until six o'clock they are to try to rest.
I fear that tomorrow will end our watching, for the shock has been too
great. The poor child cannot rally. God help us all.




LETTER MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA

(Unopened by her)

17 September

My dearest Lucy,

"It seems an age since I heard from you, or indeed since I
wrote. You will pardon me, I know, for all my faults when
you have read all my budget of news. Well, I got my husband back
all right. When we arrived at Exeter there was a carriage
waiting for us, and in it, though he had an attack of gout, Mr.
Hawkins. He took us to his house, where there were rooms for us
all nice and comfortable, and we dined together. After dinner
Mr. Hawkins said,

"'My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity, and
may every blessing attend you both. I know you both from
children, and have, with love and pride, seen you grow up.
Now I want you to make your home here with me. I have left
to me neither chick nor child. All are gone, and in my
will I have left you everything.' I cried, Lucy dear, as
Jonathan and the old man clasped hands. Our evening was a
very, very happy one.

"So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house, and
from both my bedroom and the drawing room I can see the
great elms of the cathedral close, with their great black
stems standing out against the old yellow stone of the cathedral,
and I can hear the rooks overhead cawing and cawing and
chattering and chattering and gossiping all day, after the manner
of rooks--and humans. I am busy, I need not tell you, arranging
things and housekeeping. Jonathan and Mr. Hawkins are busy all
day, for now that Jonathan is a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to
tell him all about the clients.

"How is your dear mother getting on? I wish I could run up
to town for a day or two to see you, dear, but I dare not
go yet, with so much on my shoulders, and Jonathan wants
looking after still. He is beginning to put some flesh on
his bones again, but he was terribly weakened by the long
illness. Even now he sometimes starts out of his sleep in
a sudden way and awakes all trembling until I can coax him
back to his usual placidity. However, thank God, these
occasions grow less frequent as the days go on, and they
will in time pass away altogether, I trust. And now I have
told you my news, let me ask yours. When are you to be
married, and where, and who is to perform the ceremony, and
what are you to wear, and is it to be a public or private
wedding? Tell me all about it, dear, tell me all about
everything, for there is nothing which interests you which
will not be dear to me. Jonathan asks me to send his 'respectful
duty', but I do not think that is good enough from the junior
partner of the important firm Hawkins & Harker. And so, as you
love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and
tenses of the verb, I send you simply his 'love' instead.
Goodbye, my dearest Lucy, and blessings on you.

"Yours,

"Mina Harker"



REPORT FROM PATRICK HENNESSEY, MD, MRCSLK, QCPI, ETC, ETC,
TO JOHN SEWARD, MD

20 September

My dear Sir:

"In accordance with your wishes, I enclose report of the
conditions of everything left in my charge. With regard to
patient, Renfield, there is more to say. He has had another
outbreak, which might have had a dreadful ending, but which, as
it fortunately happened, was unattended with any unhappy results.
This afternoon a carrier's cart with two men made a call at the
empty house whose grounds abut on ours, the house to which, you
will remember, the patient twice ran away. The men stopped at
our gate to ask the porter their way, as they were strangers.

"I was myself looking out of the study window, having a
smoke after dinner, and saw one of them come up to the
house. As he passed the window of Renfield's room, the
patient began to rate him from within, and called him all
the foul names he could lay his tongue to. The man, who
seemed a decent fellow enough, contented himself by telling
him to 'shut up for a foul-mouthed beggar', whereon our man
accused him of robbing him and wanting to murder him and
said that he would hinder him if he were to swing for it.
I opened the window and signed to the man not to notice, so
he contented himself after looking the place over and making up
his mind as to what kind of place he had got to by saying, 'Lor'
bless yer, sir, I wouldn't mind what was said to me in a bloomin'
madhouse. I pity ye and the guv'nor for havin' to live in the
house with a wild beast like that.'

"Then he asked his way civilly enough, and I told him where
the gate of the empty house was. He went away followed by
threats and curses and revilings from our man. I went down
to see if I could make out any cause for his anger, since
he is usually such a well-behaved man, and except his violent
fits nothing of the kind had ever occurred. I found him, to my
astonishment, quite composed and most genial in his manner. I
tried to get him to talk of the incident, but he blandly asked me
questions as to what I meant, and led me to believe that he was
completely oblivious of the affair. It was, I am sorry to say,
however, only another instance of his cunning, for within half an
hour I heard of him again. This time he had broken out through
the window of his room, and was running down the avenue. I
called to the attendants to follow me, and ran after him, for I
feared he was intent on some mischief. My fear was justified
when I saw the same cart which had passed before coming down the
road, having on it some great wooden boxes. The men were wiping
their foreheads, and were flushed in the face, as if with violent
exercise. Before I could get up to him, the patient rushed at
them, and pulling one of them off the cart, began to knock his
head against the ground. If I had not seized him just at the
moment, I believe he would have killed the man there and then.
The other fellow jumped down and struck him over the head with
the butt end of his heavy whip. It was a horrible blow, but he
did not seem to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled with
the three of us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens.
You know I am no lightweight, and the others were both burly men.
At first he was silent in his fighting, but as we began to master
him, and the attendants were putting a strait waistcoat on him,
he began to shout, 'I'll frustrate them! They shan't rob me!
They shan't murder me by inches! I'll fight for my Lord and
Master!' and all sorts of similar incoherent ravings. It was
with very considerable difficulty that they got him back to the
house and put him in the padded room. One of the attendants,
Hardy, had a finger broken. However, I set it all right, and he
is going on well.

"The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of
actions for damages, and promised to rain all the penalties
of the law on us. Their threats were, however, mingled
with some sort of indirect apology for the defeat of the
two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if it had
not been for the way their strength had been spent in carrying
and raising the heavy boxes to the cart they would have made
short work of him. They gave as another reason for their defeat
the extraordinary state of drouth to which they had been reduced
by the dusty nature of their occupation and the reprehensible
distance from the scene of their labors of any place of public
entertainment. I quite understood their drift, and after a stiff
glass of strong grog, or rather more of the same, and with each a
sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and swore that
they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure of
meeting so 'bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took
their names and addresses, in case they might be needed. They
are as follows: Jack Smollet, of Dudding's Rents, King George's
Road, Great Walworth, and Thomas Snelling, Peter Farley's Row,
Guide Court, Bethnal Green. They are both in the employment of
Harris & Sons, Moving and Shipment Company, Orange Master's Yard,
Soho.

"I shall report to you any matter of interest occurring here, and
shall wire you at once if there is anything of importance.

"Believe me, dear Sir,

"Yours faithfully,

"Patrick Hennessey."



LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA (Unopened by her)

18 September

"My dearest Lucy,

"Such a sad blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins has died very
suddenly. Some may not think it so sad for us, but we had
both come to so love him that it really seems as though we
had lost a father. I never knew either father or mother,
so that the dear old man's death is a real blow to me. Jonathan
is greatly distressed. It is not only that he feels sorrow, deep
sorrow, for the dear, good man who has befriended him all his
life, and now at the end has treated him like his own son and
left him a fortune which to people of our modest bringing up is
wealth beyond the dream of avarice, but Jonathan feels it on
another account. He says the amount of responsibility which it
puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins to doubt himself. I
try to cheer him up, and my belief in him helps him to have a
belief in himself. But it is here that the grave shock that he
experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too hard that a
sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his, a nature which
enabled him by our dear, good friend's aid to rise from clerk to
master in a few years, should be so injured that the very essence
of its strength is gone. Forgive me, dear, if I worry you with my
troubles in the midst of your own happiness, but Lucy dear, I
must tell someone, for the strain of keeping up a brave and
cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, and I have no one here
that I can confide in. I dread coming up to London, as we must
do that day after tomorrow, for poor Mr. Hawkins left in his will
that he was to be buried in the grave with his father. As there
are no relations at all, Jonathan will have to be chief mourner.
I shall try to run over to see you, dearest, if only for a few
minutes. Forgive me for troubling you. With all blessings,

"Your loving

"Mina Harker"



DR. SEWARD'S DIARY

20 September.--Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry
tonight. I am too miserable, too low spirited, too sick of the world
and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heard
this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death. And he
has been flapping those grim wings to some purpose of late, Lucy's
mother and Arthur's father, and now . . . Let me get on with my work.

I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. We wanted Arthur
to go to rest also, but he refused at first. It was only when I told
him that we should want him to help us during the day, and that we
must not all break down for want of rest, lest Lucy should suffer,
that he agreed to go.

Van Helsing was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said. "Come
with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and much
mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of.
You must not be alone, for to be alone is to be full of fears and
alarms. Come to the drawing room, where there is a big fire, and
there are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and
our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not
speak, and even if we sleep."

Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing look on Lucy's face,
which lay in her pillow, almost whiter than the lawn. She lay quite
still, and I looked around the room to see that all was as it should
be. I could see that the Professor had carried out in this room, as
in the other, his purpose of using the garlic. The whole of the
window sashes reeked with it, and round Lucy's neck, over the silk
handkerchief which Van Helsing made her keep on, was a rough chaplet
of the same odorous flowers.

Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, and her face was at its
worst, for the open mouth showed the pale gums. Her teeth, in the
dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had been in
the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, the canine
teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest.

I sat down beside her, and presently she moved uneasily. At the same
moment there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the window.
I went over to it softly, and peeped out by the corner of the blind.
There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by
a great bat, which wheeled around, doubtless attracted by the light,
although so dim, and every now and again struck the window with its
wings. When I came back to my seat, I found that Lucy had moved
slightly, and had torn away the garlic flowers from her throat. I
replaced them as well as I could, and sat watching her.

Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Helsing had
prescribed. She took but a little, and that languidly. There did not
seem to be with her now the unconscious struggle for life and strength
that had hitherto so marked her illness. It struck me as curious that
the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close
to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that
lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers
from her, but that when she waked she clutched them close, There was
no possibility of making any mistake about this, for in the long hours
that followed, she had many spells of sleeping and waking and repeated
both actions many times.

At six o'clock Van Helsing came to relieve me. Arthur had then fallen
into a doze, and he mercifully let him sleep on. When he saw Lucy's
face I could hear the hissing indraw of breath, and he said to me in a
sharp whisper. "Draw up the blind. I want light!" Then he bent down,
and, with his face almost touching Lucy's, examined her carefully. He
removed the flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief from her throat.
As he did so he started back and I could hear his ejaculation, "Mein
Gott!" as it was smothered in his throat. I bent over and looked,
too, and as I noticed some queer chill came over me. The wounds on
the throat had absolutely disappeared.

For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his face
at its sternest. Then he turned to me and said calmly, "She is
dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference, mark me,
whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor boy, and
let him come and see the last. He trusts us, and we have promised
him."

I went to the dining room and waked him. He was dazed for a moment,
but when he saw the sunlight streaming in through the edges of the
shutters he thought he was late, and expressed his fear. I assured
him that Lucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as I could that
both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was near. He covered his
face with his hands, and slid down on his knees by the sofa, where he
remained, perhaps a minute, with his head buried, praying, whilst his
shoulders shook with grief. I took him by the hand and raised him up.
"Come," I said, "my dear old fellow, summon all your fortitude. It
will be best and easiest for her."

When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with
his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making
everything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed Lucy's
hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When
we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whispered
softly, "Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come!"

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.

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. 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.

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."


[Pleast take some time to read my vampire story, The Vampire's Daughter.]