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-jnDJUs^Ux^'^aj.^ecr’and ratheTTriiel-looking, with
peculiarly sharp ~^bffiL&&pEKese protnifer"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 extraor-
dinary 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 pahn. 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 o\ er me, which, do what I would, I could not con-
ceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a
grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his
protuberant 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 fr^m 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:
i8 Dracula
«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 to-
morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away
till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!» With a cour-
teous 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!
f
7 May. It is again early morning, but I have rested and en-
joyed 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
heartK. 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 beauti-
fully 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 there 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 or 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
it locked.
In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 19
English books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes
of magazines and newspapers. A table in the centre 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 cus-
toms and manners. There were even such books of reference as
the London Directory, the «Red» and «Blue» books, Whit-
aker’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 tr^p
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 thor-
oughly!» 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 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 see me, or pause in his speaking
if he hear 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
2O Dracula
estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, 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 to-day;
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