Chapter Twenty Seven

CHAPTER 27


MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL

1 November.--All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed. The
horses seem to know that they are being kindly treated, for they go
willingly their full stage at best speed. We have now had so many
changes and find the same thing so constantly that we are encouraged
to think that the journey will be an easy one. Dr. Van Helsing is
laconic, he tells the farmers that he is hurrying to Bistritz, and
pays them well to make the exchange of horses. We get hot soup, or
coffee, or tea, and off we go. It is a lovely country. Full of
beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave, and
strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities. They are very,
very superstitious. In the first house where we stopped, when the
woman who served us saw the scar on my forehead, she crossed herself
and put out two fingers towards me, to keep off the evil eye. I
believe they went to the trouble of putting an extra amount of garlic
into our food, and I can't abide garlic. Ever since then I have taken
care not to take off my hat or veil, and so have escaped their
suspicions. We are travelling fast, and as we have no driver with us
to carry tales, we go ahead of scandal. But I daresay that fear of
the evil eye will follow hard behind us all the way. The Professor
seems tireless. All day he would not take any rest, though he made me
sleep for a long spell. At sunset time he hypnotized me, and he says
I answered as usual, "darkness, lapping water and creaking wood." So
our enemy is still on the river. I am afraid to think of Jonathan,
but somehow I have now no fear for him, or for myself. I write this
whilst we wait in a farmhouse for the horses to be ready. Dr. Van
Helsing is sleeping. Poor dear, he looks very tired and old and grey,
but his mouth is set as firmly as a conqueror's. Even in his sleep he
is intense with resolution. When we have well started I must make him
rest whilst I drive. I shall tell him that we have days before us,
and he must not break down when most of all his strength will be
needed . . . All is ready. We are off shortly.


2 November, morning.--I was successful, and we took turns driving all
night. Now the day is on us, bright though cold. There is a strange
heaviness in the air. I say heaviness for want of a better word. I
mean that it oppresses us both. It is very cold, and only our warm
furs keep us comfortable. At dawn Van Helsing hypnotized me. He says
I answered "darkness, creaking wood and roaring water," so the river
is changing as they ascend. I do hope that my darling will not run
any chance of danger, more than need be, but we are in God's hands.


2 November, night.--All day long driving. The country gets wilder as
we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti seemed
so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather round us
and tower in front. We both seem in good spirits. I think we make an
effort each to cheer the other, in the doing so we cheer ourselves.
Dr. Van Helsing says that by morning we shall reach the Borgo Pass.
The houses are very few here now, and the Professor says that the last
horse we got will have to go on with us, as we may not be able to
change. He got two in addition to the two we changed, so that now we
have a rude four-in-hand. The dear horses are patient and good, and
they give us no trouble. We are not worried with other travellers,
and so even I can drive. We shall get to the Pass in daylight. We do
not want to arrive before. So we take it easy, and have each a long
rest in turn. Oh, what will tomorrow bring to us? We go to seek the
place where my poor darling suffered so much. God grant that we may
be guided aright, and that He will deign to watch over my husband and
those dear to us both, and who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I
am not worthy in His sight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and
shall be until He may deign to let me stand forth in His sight as one
of those who have not incurred His wrath.





MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING

4 November.--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.

We 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.

"Of course 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.

Then I 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.


5 November, morning.--Let me be accurate in everything, for
though you and I have seen some strange things together,
you may at the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad.
That the many horrors and the so long strain on nerves has
at the last turn my brain.

All yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the
mountains, and moving into a more and more wild and desert
land. There are great, frowning precipices and much falling
water, and Nature seem to have held sometime her carnival. Madam
Mina still sleep and sleep. And though I did have hunger and
appeased it, I could not waken her, even for food. I began to
fear that the fatal spell of the place was upon her, tainted as
she is with that Vampire baptism. "Well," said I to myself, "if
it be that she sleep all the day, it shall also be that I do not
sleep at night." As we travel on the rough road, for a road of
an ancient and imperfect kind there was, I held down my head and
slept.

Again I waked with a sense of guilt and of time passed, and
found Madam Mina still sleeping, and the sun low down. But
all was indeed changed. The frowning mountains seemed further
away, and we were near the top of a steep rising hill, on summit
of which was such a castle as Jonathan tell of in his diary. At
once I exulted and feared. For now, for good or ill, the end was
near.

I woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hypnotize her, but
alas! unavailing till too late. Then, ere the great dark
came upon us, for even after down sun the heavens reflected
the gone sun on the snow, and all was for a time in a great
twilight. I took out the horses and fed them in what shelter I
could. Then I make a fire, and near it I make Madam Mina, now
awake and more charming than ever, sit comfortable amid her rugs.
I got ready food, but she would not eat, simply saying that she
had not hunger. I did not press her, knowing her unavailingness.
But I myself eat, for I must needs now be strong for all. Then,
with the fear on me of what might be, I drew a ring so big for
her comfort, round where Madam Mina sat. And over the ring I
passed some of the wafer, and I broke it fine so that all was
well guarded. She sat still all the time, so still as one dead.
And she grew whiter and even whiter till the snow was not more
pale, and no word she said. But when I drew near, she clung to
me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from head to
feet with a tremor that was pain to feel.

I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet,
"Will you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make
a test of what she could. She rose obedient, but when she
have made a step she stopped, and stood as one stricken.

"Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and coming
back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open
eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply, "I cannot!"
and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could
not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be
danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!

Presently the horses began to scream, and tore at their
tethers till I came to them and quieted them. When they
did feel my hands on them, they whinnied low as in joy, and
licked at my hands and were quiet for a time. Many times
through the night did I come to them, till it arrive to the
cold hour when all nature is at lowest, and every time my
coming was with quiet of them. In the cold hour the fire
began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish
it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a
chill mist. Even in the dark there was a light of some
kind, as there ever is over snow, and it seemed as though
the snow flurries and the wreaths of mist took shape as of
women with trailing garments. All was in dead, grim silence only
that the horses whinnied and cowered, as if in terror of the
worst. I began to fear, horrible fears. But then came to me the
sense of safety in that ring wherein I stood. I began too, to
think that my imaginings were of the night, and the gloom, and
the unrest that I have gone through, and all the terrible
anxiety. It was as though my memories of all Jonathan's horrid
experience were befooling me. For the snow flakes and the mist
began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as though a
shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him. And
then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror as
men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so
that they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when
these weird figures drew near and circled round. I looked at her,
but she sat calm, and smiled at me. When I would have stepped to
the fire to replenish it, she caught me and held me back, and
whispered, like a voice that one hears in a dream, so low it was.

"No! No! Do not go without. Here you are safe!"

I turned to her, and looking in her eyes said, "But you?
It is for you that I fear!"

Whereat she laughed, a laugh low and unreal, and said, "Fear
for me! Why fear for me? None safer in all the world from
them than I am," and as I wondered at the meaning of her
words, a puff of wind made the flame leap up, and I see the
red scar on her forehead. Then, alas! I knew. Did I not,
I would soon have learned, for the wheeling figures of mist
and snow came closer, but keeping ever without the Holy
circle. Then they began to materialize till, if God have
not taken away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes.
There were before me in actual flesh the same three women
that Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed
his throat. I knew the swaying round forms, the bright
hard eyes, the white teeth, the ruddy colour, the voluptuous
lips. They smiled ever at poor dear Madam Mina. And as
their laugh came through the silence of the night, they
twined their arms and pointed to her, and said in those so
sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the intolerable
sweetness of the water glasses, "Come, sister. Come to us.
Come!"

In fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, and my heart with
gladness leapt like flame. For oh! the terror in her sweet
eyes, the repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart
that was all of hope. God be thanked she was not, yet, of
them. I seized some of the firewood which was by me, and
holding out some of the Wafer, advanced on them towards the
fire. They drew back before me, and laughed their low horrid
laugh. I fed the fire, and feared them not. For I knew that we
were safe within the ring, which she could not leave no more than
they could enter. The horses had ceased to moan, and lay still
on the ground. The snow fell on them softly, and they grew
whiter. I knew that there was for the poor beasts no more of
terror.

And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall
through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and
full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began
to climb the horizon life was to me again. At the first
coming of the dawn the horrid figures melted in the whirling
mist and snow. The wreaths of transparent gloom moved away
towards the castle, and were lost.

Instinctively, with the dawn coming, I turned to Madam Mina,
intending to hypnotize her. But she lay in a deep and sudden
sleep, from which I could not wake her. I tried to hypnotize
through her sleep, but she made no response, none at all, and the
day broke. I fear yet to stir. I have made my fire and have
seen the horses, they are all dead. Today I have much to do here,
and I keep waiting till the sun is up high. For there may be
places where I must go, where that sunlight, though snow and mist
obscure it, will be to me a safety.

I will strengthen me with breakfast, and then I will do my
terrible work. Madam Mina still sleeps, and God be thanked! She
is calm in her sleep . . .



JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL

4 November, evening.--The accident to the launch has been a terrible
thing for us. Only for it we should have overtaken the boat long ago,
and by now my dear Mina would have been free. I fear to think of her,
off on the wolds near that horrid place. We have got horses, and we
follow on the track. I note this whilst Godalming is getting ready.
We have our arms. The Szgany must look out if they mean to fight. Oh,
if only Morris and Seward were with us. We must only hope! If I
write no more Goodby Mina! God bless and keep you.



DR. SEWARD'S DIARY

5 November.--With the dawn we saw the body of Szgany before us dashing
away from the river with their leiter wagon. They surrounded it in a
cluster, and hurried along as though beset. The snow is falling
lightly and there is a strange excitement in the air. It may be our
own feelings, but the depression is strange. Far off I hear the
howling of wolves. The snow brings them down from the mountains, and
there are dangers to all of us, and from all sides. The horses are
nearly ready, and we are soon off. We ride to death of some one. God
alone knows who, or where, or what, or when, or how it may be . . .





DR. VAN HELSING'S MEMORANDUM

5 November, afternoon.--I am at least sane. Thank God for
that mercy at all events, though the proving it has been
dreadful. When I left Madam Mina sleeping within the Holy
circle, I took my way to the castle. The blacksmith hammer
which I took in the carriage from Veresti was useful, though the
doors were all open I broke them off the rusty hinges, lest some
ill intent or ill chance should close them, so that being entered
I might not get out. Jonathan's bitter experience served me
here. By memory of his diary I found my way to the old chapel,
for I knew that here my work lay. The air was oppressive. It
seemed as if there was some sulphurous fume, which at times made
me dizzy. Either there was a roaring in my ears or I heard afar
off the howl of wolves. Then I bethought me of my dear Madam
Mina, and I was in terrible plight. The dilemma had me between
his horns.

Her, I had not dare to take into this place, but left safe
from the Vampire in that Holy circle. And yet even there
would be the wolf! I resolve me that my work lay here, and
that as to the wolves we must submit, if it were God's will. At
any rate it was only death and freedom beyond. So did I choose
for her. Had it but been for myself the choice had been easy,
the maw of the wolf were better to rest in than the grave of the
Vampire! So I make my choice to go on with my work.

I knew that there were at least three graves to find, graves
that are inhabit. So I search, and search, and I find one
of them. She lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and
voluptuous beauty that I shudder as though I have come to
do murder. Ah, I doubt not that in the old time, when such
things were, many a man who set forth to do such a task as
mine, found at the last his heart fail him, and then his
nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till the mere
beauty and the fascination of the wanton Undead have hypnotize
him. And he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the Vampire
sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman open
and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss, and
the man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the
Vampire fold. One more to swell the grim and grisly ranks
of the Undead! . . .

There is some fascination, surely, when I am moved by the
mere presence of such an one, even lying as she lay in a
tomb fretted with age and heavy with the dust of centuries,
though there be that horrid odour such as the lairs of the
Count have had. Yes, I was moved. I, Van Helsing, with
all my purpose and with my motive for hate. I was moved to
a yearning for delay which seemed to paralyze my faculties
and to clog my very soul. It may have been that the need
of natural sleep, and the strange oppression of the air
were beginning to overcome me. Certain it was that I was
lapsing into sleep, the open eyed sleep of one who yields
to a sweet fascination, when there came through the snow-stilled
air a long, low wail, so full of woe and pity that it woke me
like the sound of a clarion. For it was the voice of my dear
Madam Mina that I heard.

Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by
wrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark
one. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister,
lest once more I should begin to be enthrall. But I go on
searching until, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if
made to one much beloved that other fair sister which, like
Jonathan I had seen to gather herself out of the atoms of the
mist. She was so fair to look on, so radiantly beautiful, so
exquisitely voluptuous, that the very instinct of man in me,
which calls some of my sex to love and to protect one of hers,
made my head whirl with new emotion. But God be thanked, that
soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not died out of my ears.
And, before the spell could be wrought further upon me, I had
nerved myself to my wild work. By this time I had searched all
the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tell. And as there
had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in the
night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead
existent. There was one great tomb more lordly than all the
rest. Huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one
word.


DRACULA


This then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom
so many more were due. Its emptiness spoke eloquent to
make certain what I knew. Before I began to restore these
women to their dead selves through my awful work, I laid in
Dracula's tomb some of the Wafer, and so banished him from
it, Undead, for ever.

Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had it been
but one, it had been easy, comparative. But three! To
begin twice more after I had been through a deed of horror.
For it was terrible with the sweet Miss Lucy, what would it
not be with these strange ones who had survived through
centuries, and who had been strengthened by the passing of
the years. Who would, if they could, have fought for their
foul lives . . .

Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not
been nerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living
over whom hung such a pall of fear, I could not have gone
on. I tremble and tremble even yet, though till all was
over, God be thanked, my nerve did stand. Had I not seen
the repose in the first place, and the gladness that stole
over it just ere the final dissolution came, as realization
that the soul had been won, I could not have gone further
with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid screeching
as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form, and lips
of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my work
undone. But it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them now
and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of
death for a short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly
had my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body
began to melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though
the death that should have come centuries ago had at last assert
himself and say at once and loud, "I am here!"

Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never
more can the Count enter there Undead.

When I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she
woke from her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that
I had endured too much.

"Come!" she said, "come away from this awful place! Let us
go to meet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us."
She was looking thin and pale and weak. But her eyes were
pure and glowed with fervour. I was glad to see her paleness and
her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that
ruddy vampire sleep.

And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go
eastward to meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell
me that she know are coming to meet us.





MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL

6 November.--It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and I
took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was coming. We
did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for we had to
take heavy rugs and wraps with us. We dared not face the possibility
of being left without warmth in the cold and the snow. We had to take
some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect desolation, and
so far as we could see through the snowfall, there was not even the
sign of habitation. When we had gone about a mile, I was tired with
the heavy walking and sat down to rest. Then we looked back and saw
where the clear line of Dracula's castle cut the sky. For we were so
deep under the hill whereon it was set that the angle of perspective
of the Carpathian mountains was far below it. We saw it in all its
grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the summit of a sheer precipice,
and with seemingly a great gap between it and the steep of the
adjacent mountain on any side. There was something wild and uncanny
about the place. We could hear the distant howling of wolves. They
were far off, but the sound, even though coming muffled through the
deadening snowfall, was full of terror. I knew from the way Dr. Van
Helsing was searching about that he was trying to seek some strategic
point, where we would be less exposed in case of attack. The rough
roadway still led downwards. We could trace it through the drifted
snow.

In a little while the Professor signalled to me, so I got up and
joined him. He had found a wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow
in a rock, with an entrance like a doorway between two boulders. He
took me by the hand and drew me in.

"See!" he said, "here you will be in shelter. And if the wolves do
come I can meet them one by one."

He brought in our furs, and made a snug nest for me, and got out some
provisions and forced them upon me. But I could not eat, to even try
to do so was repulsive to me, and much as I would have liked to please
him, I could not bring myself to the attempt. He looked very sad, but
did not reproach me. Taking his field glasses from the case, he stood
on the top of the rock, and began to search the horizon.

Suddenly he called out, "Look! Madam Mina, look! Look!"

I sprang up and stood beside him on the rock. He handed me his
glasses and pointed. The snow was now falling more heavily, and
swirled about fiercely, for a high wind was beginning to blow.
However, there were times when there were pauses between the snow
flurries and I could see a long way round. From the height where we
were it was possible to see a great distance. And far off, beyond the
white waste of snow, I could see the river lying like a black ribbon
in kinks and curls as it wound its way. Straight in front of us and
not far off, in fact so near that I wondered we had not noticed
before, came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the midst of
them was a cart, a long leiter wagon which swept from side to side,
like a dog's tail wagging, with each stern inequality of the road.
Outlined against the snow as they were, I could see from the men's
clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some kind.

On the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw it, for
I felt that the end was coming. The evening was now drawing close,
and well I knew that at sunset the Thing, which was till then
imprisoned there, would take new freedom and could in any of many
forms elude pursuit. In fear I turned to the Professor. To my
consternation, however, he was not there. An instant later, I saw him
below me. Round the rock he had drawn a circle, such as we had found
shelter in last night.

When he had completed it he stood beside me again saying, "At least
you shall be safe here from him!" He took the glasses from me, and at
the next lull of the snow swept the whole space below us. "See," he
said, "they come quickly. They are flogging the horses, and galloping
as hard as they can."

He paused and went on in a hollow voice, "They are racing for the
sunset. We may be too late. God's will be done!" Down came another
blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was blotted
out. It soon passed, however, and once more his glasses were fixed on
the plain.

Then came a sudden cry, "Look! Look! Look! See, two horsemen follow
fast, coming up from the south. It must be Quincey and John. Take
the glass. Look before the snow blots it all out!" I took it and
looked. The two men might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. I knew at
all events that neither of them was Jonathan. At the same time I knew
that Jonathan was not far off. Looking around I saw on the north side
of the coming party two other men, riding at breakneck speed. One of
them I knew was Jonathan, and the other I took, of course, to be Lord
Godalming. They too, were pursuing the party with the cart. When I
told the Professor he shouted in glee like a schoolboy, and after
looking intently till a snow fall made sight impossible, he laid his
Winchester rifle ready for use against the boulder at the opening of
our shelter.

"They are all converging," he said. "When the time comes we shall have
gypsies on all sides." I got out my revolver ready to hand, for
whilst we were speaking the howling of wolves came louder and closer.
When the snow storm abated a moment we looked again. It was strange
to see the snow falling in such heavy flakes close to us, and beyond,
the sun shining more and more brightly as it sank down towards the far
mountain tops. Sweeping the glass all around us I could see here and
there dots moving singly and in twos and threes and larger numbers.
The wolves were gathering for their prey.

Every instant seemed an age whilst we waited. The wind came now in
fierce bursts, and the snow was driven with fury as it swept upon us
in circling eddies. At times we could not see an arm's length before
us. But at others, as the hollow sounding wind swept by us, it seemed
to clear the air space around us so that we could see afar off. We
had of late been so accustomed to watch for sunrise and sunset, that
we knew with fair accuracy when it would be. And we knew that before
long the sun would set. It was hard to believe that by our watches it
was less than an hour that we waited in that rocky shelter before the
various bodies began to converge close upon us. The wind came now
with fiercer and more bitter sweeps, and more steadily from the
north. It seemingly had driven the snow clouds from us, for with only
occasional bursts, the snow fell. We could distinguish clearly the
individuals of each party, the pursued and the pursuers. Strangely
enough those pursued did not seem to realize, or at least to care,
that they were pursued. They seemed, however, to hasten with
redoubled speed as the sun dropped lower and lower on the mountain
tops.

Closer and closer they drew. The Professor and I crouched down behind
our rock, and held our weapons ready. I could see that he was
determined that they should not pass. One and all were quite unaware
of our presence.

All at once two voices shouted out to "Halt!" One was my Jonathan's,
raised in a high key of passion. The other Mr. Morris' strong
resolute tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have known the
language, but there was no mistaking the tone, in whatever tongue the
words were spoken. Instinctively they reined in, and at the instant
Lord Godalming and Jonathan dashed up at one side and Dr. Seward and
Mr. Morris on the other. The leader of the gypsies, a splendid
looking fellow who sat his horse like a centaur, waved them back, and
in a fierce voice gave to his companions some word to proceed. They
lashed the horses which sprang forward. But the four men raised their
Winchester rifles, and in an unmistakable way commanded them to stop.
At the same moment Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and
pointed our weapons at them. Seeing that they were surrounded the men
tightened their reins and drew up. The leader turned to them and gave
a word at which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he
carried, knife or pistol, and held himself in readiness to attack.
Issue was joined in an instant.

The leader, with a quick movement of his rein, threw his horse out in
front, and pointed first to the sun, now close down on the hill tops,
and then to the castle, said something which I did not understand.
For answer, all four men of our party threw themselves from their
horses and dashed towards the cart. I should have felt terrible fear
at seeing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ardor of battle must
have been upon me as well as the rest of them. I felt no fear, but
only a wild, surging desire to do something. Seeing the quick
movement of our parties, the leader of the gypsies gave a command. His
men instantly formed round the cart in a sort of undisciplined
endeavour, each one shouldering and pushing the other in his eagerness
to carry out the order.

In the midst of this I could see that Jonathan on one side of the ring
of men, and Quincey on the other, were forcing a way to the cart. It
was evident that they were bent on finishing their task before the sun
should set. Nothing seemed to stop or even to hinder them. Neither
the levelled weapons nor the flashing knives of the gypsies in front,
nor the howling of the wolves behind, appeared to even attract their
attention. Jonathan's impetuosity, and the manifest singleness of his
purpose, seemed to overawe those in front of him. Instinctively they
cowered aside and let him pass. In an instant he had jumped upon the
cart, and with a strength which seemed incredible, raised the great
box, and flung it over the wheel to the ground. In the meantime, Mr.
Morris had had to use force to pass through his side of the ring of
Szgany. All the time I had been breathlessly watching Jonathan I had,
with the tail of my eye, seen him pressing desperately forward, and
had seen the knives of the gypsies flash as he won a way through them,
and they cut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and
at first I thought that he too had come through in safety. But as he
sprang beside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could
see that with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and that the
blood was spurting through his fingers. He did not delay
notwithstanding this, for as Jonathan, with desperate energy, attacked
one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with his great
Kukri knife, he attacked the other frantically with his bowie. Under
the efforts of both men the lid began to yield. The nails drew with a
screeching sound, and the top of the box was thrown back.

By this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the
Winchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had
given in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on
the mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the
snow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of
which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was
deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with
the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.

As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in
them turned to triumph.

But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan's great
knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat. Whilst at
the same moment Mr. Morris's bowie knife plunged into the heart.

It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the
drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from
our sight.

I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final
dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never
could have imagined might have rested there.

The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and every
stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the light of
the setting sun.

The gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of the extraordinary
disappearance of the dead man, turned, without a word, and rode away
as if for their lives. Those who were unmounted jumped upon the
leiter wagon and shouted to the horsemen not to desert them. The
wolves, which had withdrawn to a safe distance, followed in their
wake, leaving us alone.

Mr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground, leaned on his elbow, holding
his hand pressed to his side. The blood still gushed through his
fingers. I flew to him, for the Holy circle did not now keep me back;
so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and the wounded man
laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he took, with a
feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was unstained.

He must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he smiled at
me and said, "I am only too happy to have been of service! Oh, God!"
he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting posture and pointing to me.
"It was worth for this to die! Look! Look!"

The sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red gleams
fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With one
impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest "Amen"
broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his finger.

The dying man spoke, "Now God be thanked that all has not been in
vain! See! The snow is not more stainless than her forehead! The
curse has passed away!"

And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died, a
gallant gentleman.





NOTE


Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the happiness of
some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured.
It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our boy's birthday is the
same day as that on which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I
know, the secret belief that some of our brave friend's spirit has
passed into him. His bundle of names links all our little band of men
together. But we call him Quincey.

In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went
over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and
terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe that the
things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears
were living truths. Every trace of all that had been was blotted
out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a waste of
desolation.

When we got home we were talking of the old time, which we could all
look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both
happily married. I took the papers from the safe where they had been
ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the fact, that
in all the mass of material of which the record is composed, there is
hardly one authentic document. Nothing but a mass of typewriting,
except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward and myself, and Van
Helsing's memorandum. We could hardly ask any one, even did we wish
to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a story. Van Helsing summed
it all up as he said, with our boy on his knee.

"We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will some
day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he
knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand how
some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake."

JONATHAN HARKER



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