not so?»
«Of course,» I replied; and «such is often done by men of
30 Dracula
business, who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known
by any one person.»
«Good! "he said, and then went on to ask about the means of
making consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of
all sorts of difficulties which might arise, but by forethought
could be guarded against. I explained all these things to him to
the best of my ability, and he certainly left me under the im-
pression that he would have made a wonderful solicitor, for there
was nothing that he did not think of or foresee. For a man who
was never in the country, and who did not evidently do much in
the way of business, his knowledge and acumen were wonderful.
When he had satisfied himself on these points of which he had
spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by the books
available, he suddenly stood up and said:
«Have you written since your first letter to our friend Mr.
Peter Hawkins, or to any other?» It was with some bitterness
in my heart that I answered that I had not, that as yet I had
not seen any opportunity of sending letters to anybody.
«Then write now, my young friend/' he said, laying a heavy
hand on my shoulder: «write to our friend and to any other;
and say, if it will please you, that you shall stay with me until
a month from now.»
«Do you wish me to stay so long?» I asked, for my heart
grew cold at the thought.
«I desire it much; nay, I will take no refusal. When your
master, employer, what you will, engaged that someone should
come on his behalf, it was understood that my needs only were
to be consulted. I have not stinted. Is it not so?»
What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkins’s
interest, not mine, and I had to think of him, not myself; and
besides, while Count Dracula was speaking, there was that in
his eyes and in his bearing which made me remember that i
was a prisoner, and that if I wished it I could have no choice.
The Count saw his victory in my bow, and his mastery in the
trouble of my face, for he began at once to use them, but in his
own smooth, resistless way:
«I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not dis-
course of things other than business in your letters. It will doubt-
less please your friends to know that you are well, and that you
look forward to getting home to them. Is it not so? "As he spoke
he handed me three sheets of note-paper and three envelopes.
They were all of the thinnest foreign post, and looking at them,
then at him, and noticing his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine
Jonathan Harker’s Journal 31
teeth lying over the red underlip, I understood as well as if he
had spoken that I should be careful what I wrote, for he would
be able to read it. So I determined to write only formal notes
now, but to write fully to Mr. Hawkins in secret, and also to
Mina, for to her I could write in shorthand, which would puzzle
the Count, if he did see it. When I had written my two letters
I sat quiet, reading a book whilst the Count wrote several notes,
referring as he wrote them to some books on his table. Then he
took up my two and placed them with his own, and put by
his writing materials, after which, the instant the door had
closed behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters, which
were face down on the table. I felt no compunction in doing so,
for under the circumstances I felt that I should protect myself
in every way I could.
One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billingtonj
No. 7, The Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna; the
third was to Coutts & Co., London, and the fourth to Herren
Klopstock & Billreuth, bankers, Buda-Pesth. The second and
fourth were unsealed. I was just about to look at them when
I saw the door-handle move. I sank back in my seat, having just
had time to replace the letters as they had been and to resume
my book before the Count, holding still another letter in his hand,
entered the room. He took up the letters on the table and
stamped them carefully, and then turning to me, said:
«I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in
private this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you
wish.» At the door he turned, and after a moment’s pause said:
«Let me advise you, my dear young friend nay, let me warn
you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you
will not by any chance go to sleep in any other part of the castle.
It is old, and has many, memories, and there are bad dreams for
those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now or ever
overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your own chamber
or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But if you be
not careful in this respect, then» He finished his speecn.-in_a,
gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were
washing them. I quite understood; my only doubt was as to
whether any dream could be more terrible than the unnatural,
horrible net of gloom and mystery which seemed closing around
me.
Later. I endorse the last words written, but this time there
(s no doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where
32 Dracula
he is not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed I
imagine that my rest is thus freer from dreams; and there it
shall remain.
When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not
hearing any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to
where I could look out towards the South. There was some sense
of freedom in the vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me,
as compared with the narrow darkness of the courtyard. Look-
ing out on this, I felt that I was indeed in prison, and I seemed
to want a breath of fresh air, though it were of the night. I am
beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroy-
ing my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts
of horrible imaginings. God knows that there is ground for my
terrible fear in this accursed place! I looked out over the beau-
tiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was al-
most as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became
melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety
blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me; there was peace
and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the win>
dow my eye was caught by something moving a storey below
me, and somewhat to my left, where I imagined, from the order
of the rooms, that the windows of the Count’s own room would
look out. The window at which I stood was tall and deep, stone-
mullioned, and though weatherworn, was still complete; but it
was evidently many a day since the case had been there. I drew
back behind the stonework, and looked carefully out.
What I saw was the Count’s head coming out from the win-
dow. I did not see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and
the movement of his back and arms. In any case I could not mis-
take the hands which I had had so many opportunities of study-
ing. I was at first interested and somewhat amused, for it is won-
derful how small a matter will interest and amuse a man when
he is a prisoner. But my very feelings changed to repulsion and
terror when I saw the whQle_maa_slowly. emerge_ from the win-
dow and begin to crawl down the castle wall over that dreadful
abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like
great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I thought it
was some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow; but
I kept looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw the fingers and
toes grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar
by the stress of years, anr> by thus using every projection and
inequality move downwaius with considerable speed, just as a
lizard moves along a wall.
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 33