a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray
of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line
against the moonlit sky.
CHAPTER II
JONATHAN BARKER’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 remark-
able 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 daylight.
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 out 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 the 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, fc~ 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 ad-
venture 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 Lon-
don 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 night-
mare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and
14
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 15
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 the 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. oot, without a single
speck of colour about him anywhere. He ’held in his hand an
antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without 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 vith a courtly gesture, saying in excel-
lent English, but with a. strange intonation:
«Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own 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 as cold as ice more like
the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:
«Welcome to my house. Come 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 way 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 wind-
16 Dracula
ing 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 with-
out a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened an-
other 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 en-
trusted 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 1
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 confi-
dence. 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
Jonathan Harker’s Journal 17
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 questions 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 de-
sire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigaf
which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he