Брэм Стокер - Dracula стр 13.

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28 May. There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being

able to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the

castle, and are encamped in the courtyard. These Szgany are

gipsies; I have notes of them in my book. They are peculiar to

this part of the world, though allied to the ordinary gipsies all

the world over. There are thousands of them in Hungary and

Transylvania, who are almost outside all law. They attach them-

selves as a rule to some great noble or boyar, and call themselves

by his name. They are fearless and without religion, save super-

stition, and they talk only their own varieties of the Romany

tongue.

I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to

have them posted. I have already spoken them through my

window to begin acquaintanceship. They took their hats off

and made obeisance and many signs, which, however, I could

not understand any more than I could their spoken language….

I have written the letters. Mina’s is in shorthand, and I simply

ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have ex-

plained my situation, but without the horrors which I may only

surmise. It would shock and frighten her to death were I to ex-

pose my heart to her. Should the letters not carry, then the

Count shall not yet know my secret or the extent of my knowl-

edge….

40 Dracula

I have given the letters; I threw them through the bars o!

my window with a gold piece, and made what signs I could to

have them posted. The man who took them pressed them to his

heart and bowed, and then put them in his cap. I could do no

more. I stole back to the study, and began to read. As the Count

did not come in, I have written here….

The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his

smoothest voice as he opened two letters:

«The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not

whence they come, I shall, of course, take care. See!» he must

have looked at it «one is from you, and to my friend Peter

Hawkins; the other» here he caught sight of the strange sym-

bols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his

face, and his eyes blazed wickedly «the other is a vile thing,

an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not signed.

Well! so it cannot matter to us.» And he calmly held letter and

envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.

Then he went on:

«The letter to Hawkins that I shall, of course, send on, since

it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend,

that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover it

again? "He held out the letter to me, and with a courteous bow

handed me a clean envelope. I could only redirect it and hand it

to him in silence. When he went out of the room I could hear the

key turn softly. A minute later I went over and tried it, and the

door was locked.

When, an hour or two after, the Count came quietly into the

room, his coming awakened me, for I had gone to sleep on the

sofa. He was very courteous and very cheery in his manner, and

seeing that I had been sleeping, he said:

«So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest

rest. I may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are

many labours to me; but you will sleep, I pray.» I passed to my

room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept without dream-

ing. Despair has its own calms.

31 May. This morning when I woke I thought I would pro-

vide myself with some paper and envelopes from my bag and

keep them in my pocket, so that I might write in case I should

get an opportunity, but again a surprise, again a shock!

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my

memoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit,

Jonathan Harker’s Journal 41

in fact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the

castle. I sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought oc-

curred to me, and I made search of my portmanteau and in the

wardrobe where I had placed my clothes.

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my over-

coat and rug; I could find no trace of them anywhere. This

looked like some new scheme of villainy

17 June. This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my

bed cudgelling my brains, I heard without a cracking of whips

and pounding and scraping of horses’ feet up the rocky path

beyond the courtyard. With joy I hurried to the window, and

saw drive into the yard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by

eight sturdy horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak, with

his wide hat, great nail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high

boots. They had also their long staves in hand. I ran to the door,

intending to descend and try and join them through the main

hall, as I thought that way might be opened for them. Again a

shock: my door was fastened on the outside.

Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked

up at me stupidly and pointed, but just then the «hetman»

of the Szgany came out, and seeing them pointing to my window,

said something, at which they laughed. Henceforth no effort of

mine, no piteous cry or agonised entreaty, would make them

even look at me. They resolutely turned away. The leiter-wagons

contained great, square boxes, with handles of thick rope; these

were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks handled

them, and by their resonance as they were roughly moved.

When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one

corner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the

Szgany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his

horse’s head. Shortly afterwards, I heard the cracking of their

whips die away in the distance.

24, June, before morning. Last night the Count left me early,

and locked himself into his own room. As soon as I dared I ran up

the winding stair, and looked out of the window, which opened

south. I thought I would watch for the Count, for there is some-

thing going on. The Szgany are quartered somewhere in the’castle

and are doing work of some kind. I know it, for now and then I

hear a far-away muffled sound as of mattock and spade, and,

whatever it is % it must be the end of some ruthless villainy.

42 Dracula

I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour,

when I saw something coming out of the Count’s window. I

drew back and watched carefully, and saw the whole man

emerge. It was a new shock to me to find that he had on the

suit of clothes which I had worn whilst travelling here, and

slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which I had seen the

women take away. There could be no doubt as to his quest, and

’in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme of evil: that he

will allow others to see me, as they think, so that he may both

leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages

posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which he may

do shall by the local people be attributed to me.

It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I

am shut up here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protec-

tion of the law which is even a criminal’s right and consolation.

I thought I would watch for the Count’s return, and for a

long time sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice

that there were some quaint little specks floating hi the rays of

the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they

whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way.

I watched them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole

over me. I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable

position, so that I could enjoy more fully the aerial gambolling.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs

somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my

sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes

of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the

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