CHAPTER II
Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued
5 May.
I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully awake I must
have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. In the gloom the courtyard
looked of considerable size, and as several dark ways led from it under
great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not
yet been able to see it by dayligh.
When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to
assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigious strength.
His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could have crushed mine
if he had chosen. Then he took my traps, and placed them on the ground beside
me as I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron nails,
and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could see even in th
e dim light that the stone was massively carved, but that the carving had
been much worn by time and weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again
into his seat and shook the reins. The horses started forward, and trap
and all disappeared down one of the dark openings.
I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bell or
knocker there was no sign.
Through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely
that my voice could
penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears
crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind
of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was
this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor's clerk sent out to
explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner ? Solicitor's clerk!
Mina would not like that. Solicitor, for just before leaving London I got
word that my examination was successful, and I am now a full-blown solicitor!
I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed
like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake,
and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows,
as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But
my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived.
I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to
be patient, and to wait the coming of morning.
Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind
the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light.
Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive
bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse,
and the great door swung back.
Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache,
and clad in black from
head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held
in his hand an antique
silver lamp, in which the flame burned without a chimney or globe of any
kind, throwing long
quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old
man motioned me in with
his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but
with a strange intonation.
"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!"
He made no motion of stepping to
meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed
him into stone. The
instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively
forward, and holding
out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect
which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like
the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said.
"Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something
of the happiness you bring!"
The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed
in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if
it were not the same person to whom I was speaking. So to make sure, I said
interrogatively, "Count Dracula?"
He bowed in a courtly was as he replied, "I am Dracula, and I bid you
welcome, Mr. Harker, to my
house. Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest."As
he was speaking, he put
the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage. He
had carried it in before I
could forestall him. I protested, but he insisted.
"Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available.
Let me see to your comfort
myself."He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then
up a great winding stair, and
along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily.
At the end of this he threw
open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which
a table was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of
logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.
The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing the
room, opened another
door, which led into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly
without a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened another door,
and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight. For here was a great bedroom
well lighted and warmed with another log fire, also added to but lately,
for the top logs were fresh, which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney.
The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he
closed the door.
"You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your
toilet. I trust you will find all
you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find
your supper
prepared."
The light and warmth and the Count's courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated
all my doubts
and fears. Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that I was
half famished with hunger.
So making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.
I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the great
fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand
to the table, and said,
"I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will I trust, excuse
me that I do not join you, but I have dined already, and I do not sup."
I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had entrusted to me.
He opened it and read it
gravely. Then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage
of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.
"I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant
sufferer, forbids absolutely
any travelling on my part for some time to come. But I am happy to say I
can send a sufficient
substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young
man, full of energy and
talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet
and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready
to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions
in all matters."
The count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I fell
to at once on an excellent
roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old tokay,
of which I had two
glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked
me many question as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I had experienced.
By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host's desire had drawn
up a chair by the fire and
begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself
that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found
him of a very marked physiognomy.
His face was a strong, a very strong, aquiline, with high bridge of the
thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils, with lofty domed forehead, and
hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows
were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that
seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it
under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly
sharp white teeth. These protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness
showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears
were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed. The chin was broad and strong,
and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary
pallor.
Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in
the firelight, and they had
seemed rather white and fine. But seeing them now close to me, I could not
but notice that they were
rather coarse, broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs
in the centre of the palm.
The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned
over me and his hands
touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath
was rank, but a horrible
feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal.
The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back. And with a grim sort of smile,
which showed more than he had yet done his protruberant teeth, sat himself
down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for a while,
and as I looked towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming
dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything. But as I listened,
I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves.
The Count's eyes gleamed, and he said.
"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"
Seeing, I suppose, some
expression in my face strange to him, he added,"Ah, sir, you dwellers
in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter." Then he
rose and said.
"But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you
shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon, so
sleep well and dream well!" With a courteous bow, he opened for me
himself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom.
I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I think strange things, which
I dare not confess to my
own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
7 May.
It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four
hours. I slept till
late in the day, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I
went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid
out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was
a card on the table, on which was written.
"I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me. D." I set
to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I
had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had
finished, but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies
in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth which are
round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought that
it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and
sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful
fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they
are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them
in Hampton Court, but they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still
in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass
on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before
I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere,
or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time
after I had finished my meal, I do not know whether to call it breakfast
of dinner, for it was between five and six o'clock when I had it, I looked
about for something to read, for I did not like to go about the castle until
I had asked the Count's permission. There was absolutely nothing in the
room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials, so I opened another door
in the room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried,
but found locked.
In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books,
whole shelves full of
them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A table in the center
was littered with
English magazines and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent
date. The books were
of the most varied kind, history, geography, politics, political economy,
botany, geology, law, all
relating to England and English life and customs and manners. There were
even such books of
reference as the London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue"
books, Whitaker's Almanac, the Army and
Navy Lists, and it somehow gladdened my heart to see it, the Law List.
Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count entered.
He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a good night's rest.
Then he went on.
"I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much
that will interest you. These
companions," and he laid his hand on some of the books, "have
been good friends to me, and for
some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given
me many, many hours of
pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England, and to know
her is to love her. I
long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the
midst of the whirl and
rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that
makes it what it is. But alas! As
yet I only know your tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that
I know it to speak."
"But, Count," I said, "You know and speak English thoroughly!"
He bowed gravely.
"I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but
yet I fear that I am but a little way on
the road I would travel. True, I know the grammar and the words, but yet
I know not how to speak
them.
"Indeed," I said, "You speak excellently."
"Not so," he answered. "Well, I know that, did I move and
speak in your London, none there are
who would not know me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I
am noble. I am a Boyar.
The common people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange
land, he is no one. Men
know him not, and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like
the rest, so that no man
stops if he sees me, or pauses in his speaking if he hears my words, `Ha,
ha! A stranger!' I have been so long master that I would be master still,
or at least that none other should be master of me. You come to me not alone
as agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my
new estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me a while, so
that by our talking I may learn the English intonation. And I would that
you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my
speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long today, but you will,
I know forgive one who has
so many important affairs in hand." Of course I said all I could about
being willing, and asked if I
might come into that room when I chose. He answered, "Yes, certainly,"
and added.
"You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors
are locked, where of course
you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are,
and did you see with my eyes
and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand." I
said I was sure of this, and
then he went on."
"We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways
are not your ways, and there
shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of
your experiences already,
you know something of what strange things there may be."
This led to much conversation, and as it was evident that he wanted to talk,
if only for talking's sake,
I asked him many questions regarding things that had already happened to
me or come within my
notice. Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation
by pretending not to
understand, but generally he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as
time went on, and I had got
somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding
night, as for instance,
why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the blue flames. He
then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on a certain night
of the year, last night, in fact, when all evil spirits are supposed to
have unchecked sway, a blue flame is seen over any place where treasure
has been concealed.
"That treasure has been hidden," he went on, "in the region
through which you came last night, there
can be but little doubt. For it was the ground fought over for centuries
by the Wallachian, the Saxon,
and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that
has not been enriched by the
blood of men, patriots or invaders. In the old days there were stirring
times, when the Austrian and
the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them,
men and women, the aged
and the children too, and waited their coming on the rocks above the passes,
that they might sweep
destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was
triumphant he found but
little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly soil."
"But how," said I, "can it have remained so long undiscovered,
when there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look?
"The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long,
sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely. He answered.
"Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames
only appear on one night, and on that night no man of this land will, if
he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he
would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who
marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even
for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these
places again ?"
"There you are right," I said. "I know no more than the dead
where even to look for them." Then we
drifted into other matters. "Come," he said at last, "tell
me of London and of the house which you have procured for me." With
an apology for my remissness, I went into my own room to get the papers
from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I heard a rattling of china
and silver in the next room, and as I passed through, noticed that the table
had been cleared and the lamp lit, for it was by this time deep into the
dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or library, and I found the Count
lying on the sofa, reading, of all things in the world, and English Bradshaw's
Guide. When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table, and
with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested
in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and its surroundings.
He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on the subject of the
neighborhood, for he evidently at the end knew very much more than I did.
When I remarked this, he answered. "Well, but, my friend, is it not
needful that I should? When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend
Harker Jonathan, nay, pardon me. I fall into my country's habit of putting
your patronymic first, my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side
to correct and aid me. He will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working
at papers of the law with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So !"
We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at Purfleet.
When I had told him
the facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, and had written
a letter with them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how
I had come across so suitable a place. I read to him the notes which I had
made at the time, and which I inscribe here. "At Purfleet, on a by-road,
I came across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was
displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It was surrounded
by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not
been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy
old oak and iron, all eaten with rust. "The estate is called Carfax,
no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four sided,
agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all some
twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned.
There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is
a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs,
as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is
very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for
one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and
heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to
an old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the
door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak views
of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in a very straggling
way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must
be very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a very
large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum.
It is not, however, visible from the grounds."
When I had finished, he said, "I am glad that it is old and big. I
myself am of an old family, and to
live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a
day, and after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also
that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to
think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety
nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling
waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young, and my heart,
through weary years of mourning over the dead, is attuned to mirth. Moreover,
the walls of my castle are broken. The shadows are many, and the wind breathes
cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and
the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may." Somehow
his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast
of face made his smile look malignant and saturnine.
Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers together.
He was some little time
away, and I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas,
which I found opened
naturally to England, as if that map had been much used. On looking at it
I found in certain places
little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near
London on the east side,
manifestly where his new estate was situated. The other two were Exeter,
and Whitby on the
Yorkshire coast.
It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. "Aha!"
he said. "Still at your books ? Good! But you must not work always.
Come! I am informed that your supper is ready." He took my arm, and
we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the
table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being
away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst
I ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed
with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour
after hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say
anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host's wishes in every
way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me, but
I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming
of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that
people who are near death die generally at the change to dawn or at the
turn of the tide. Anyone who has when tired, and tied as it were to his
post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it. All
at once we heard the crow of the cock coming up with preternatural shrillness
through the clear morning air.
Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said, "Why there is the morning
again ! How remiss I am to let
you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new
country of England
less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us," and
with a courtly bow, he quickly left me. I went into my room and drew the
curtains, but there was little to notice. My window opened into the courtyard,
all I could see was the warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains
again, and have written of this day.
8 May.
I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse.
But now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something
so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy.
I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. It may be that this
strange night existence is telling on me, but would that that were all!
If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I
have only the Count to speak with, and he-- I fear I am myself the only
living soul within the place. Let me be prosaiac so far as facts can be.
It will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If
it does I am lost. Let me say at once how I stand, or seem to. I only slept
a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more,
got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning
to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count's voice
saying to me, "Good morning." I started, for it amazed me that
I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole
room behind me. In
starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment.
Having answered the Count's
salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken.
This time there could be no
error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder.
But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind
me was displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself.
This was startling, and coming on the top of so many strange things, was
beginning to increase that
vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near.
But at the instant I saw the
the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid
down the razor, turning as I
did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When the Count saw
my face, his eyes blazed
with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat.
I drew away and his hand
touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant
change in him, for the fury
passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.
"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It
is more dangerous that you think in this
country." Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on, "And this
is the wretched thing that has done
the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it!" And
opening the window with one
wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered
into a thousand pieces on the
stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is
very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case
or the bottom of the shaving pot, which is fortunately of metal.
When I went into the dining room, breakfast was prepared, but I could not
find the Count anywhere.
So I breakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count
eat or drink. He must be a
very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle.
I went out on the stairs, and
found a room looking towards the South.
The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity
of seeing it. The
castle is on the very edge of a terrific precipice. A stone falling from
the window would fall a
thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is
a sea of green tree tops, with
occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and there are silver
threads where the rivers
wind in deep gorges through the forests.
But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I
explored further. Doors,
doors, doors everywere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from
the windows in the castle
walls is there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and
I am a prisoner !