Брэм Стокер - Dracula стр 15.

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red as ever. But there was no sign of movement, no pulse, no

breath, no beating of the heart. I bent over him, and tried to

find any sign of life, but in vain. He could not have lain there

long, for the earthy smell would have passed away in a few

hours. By the side of the box was its cover, pierced with holes

here and there. I thought he might have the keys on him, but

when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them, dead

though they were, such a look of hate, though unconscious of

me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and leaving the

Count’s room by the window, crawled again up the castle wall.

Regaining my room, I threw myself panting upon the bed and

tried to think..

46 Dracula

2Q June. To-day is the date of my last letter, and the Count

has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him

leave the castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he

went down the wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some

lethal weapon, that I might destroy him; but I fear that no wea-

pon wrought alone by man’s hand would have any effect on him.

I dared not wait to see him return, for I feared to see those

weird sisters. I came back to the library, and read there till I

fell asleep.

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as

a man can look as he said:

«To-morrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your

beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end

that we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched;

to-morrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your

journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some la-

bours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they

have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you

to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence froir Bukovina to Bis-

tritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle

Dracula.» I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity.

Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in

connection with such a monster, so asked him point-blank:

«Why may I not go to-night?»

«Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a

mission.»

«But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once.»

He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there

was some trick behind his smoothness. He said*

«And your baggage?»

«I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time.»»

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which

made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real:

«You English have a saying which is close to my heart, for

its spirit is that which rules our boyars: «Welcome the coming;

speed the parting guest. ' Come with me, my dear young friend.

Not an hour shall you wait in my house against your will,

though sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire

it. Come!» With a stately gravity, he, with the lamp, preceded

me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he stopped.

«Hark!»

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was al-

most as if the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just

Jonathan Marker’s Journal 47

as the music of a great orchestra seems to leap under the baton

of the conductor. After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in

his stately way, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts,

unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it open.

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Sus-

piciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any kind.

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without

grew louder and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth,

and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through

the opening door. I knew then that to struggle at the moment

against the Count was useless. With such allies as these at his

command, I could do nothing. But still the door continued slowly

to open, and only the Count’s body stood in the gap. Suddenly it

struck me that this might be the moment and means of my

doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instiga-

tion. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough

for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:

«Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!» and covered my

face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment.

With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door

shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall

as they shot back into their places.

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or

two I went to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula

was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in

his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.

When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I

heard a whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened.

Unless my ears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:

«Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come.

Wait! Have patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow night is

yours!» There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a

rage I threw open the door, and saw without the three terrible

women licking their lips. As I appeared they all joined in a hor-

rible laugh, and ran away.

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It

is then so near the end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me,

and those to whom I am dear!

30 June, morning. These may be the last words I ever write

in this diary. I slept till just before the clawn, and when I woke

threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came

he should find me ready.

48 Dracula

At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the

morning had come. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I

felt that I was safe. With a glad heart, I opened my door and ran

down to the hall. I had seen that the door was unlocked, and now

escape was before me. With hands that trembled with eagerness,

I unhooked the chains and drew back the massive bolts.

But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled,

and pulled, at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it

rattled in its casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been

locked after I left the Count.

Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and

I determined then and there to scale the wall again and gain

the Count’s room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the

happier choice of evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east

window, and scrambled down the wall, as before, into the

Count’s room. It was empty, but that was as I expected. I could

not see a key anywhere, but the heap of gold remained. I went

through the door in the corner and down the winding stair and

along the dark passage to the old chapel. I knew now well enough

where to find the monster I sought.

The great box was in the same place, close against the wall,

but the lid fras laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails

ready in their places to be hammered home. I knew I must

reach the 6ody for the key, so I raised the lid, and laid it back

against foe wall; and then I saw something which filled my very

soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his

youtA had been half renewed, for the white hair and moustache

were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller, and the

white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder

than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which

trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin

and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst

swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated.

It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged

with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his reple-

tion. I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense

in me revolted at the contact; but I had to search, or I was lost.

The coming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar

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