No More Learning

"
(_Mem. _, get recipe for this also. ) I had to hurry breakfast, for
the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have
done so, for after rushing to the station at 7. 30 I had to sit in the
carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me
that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What
ought they to be in China?

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those
I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round
hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The
women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very
clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or
other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course
petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks,
who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great
baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy
leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails.
They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had
long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque,
but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at
once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am
told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is
a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for
the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a
series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five
separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it
underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties
of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I
wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently
expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly
woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with long double
apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for
modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: "The Herr Englishman? "
"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker. " She smiled, and gave some message
to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the
door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter:--


"/My Friend/,--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start
for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your
journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.

"Your friend,
"/Dracula. /"


_4 May. _--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort
of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and
that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused
to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no
time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any
means comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in
a very hysterical way:

"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? " She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew,
and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at
all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I
told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important
business, she asked again:

"Do you know what day it is? " I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:

"Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is? " On
my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when
the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have
full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going
to? " She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but
without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not
to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very
ridiculous, but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business
to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore
tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked
her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and
dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me.
I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been
taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet
it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in
such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she
put the rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and
went out of the room. I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I
am waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix
is still round my neck. Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many
ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not
know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this
book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here
comes the coach!

_5 May. The Castle. _--The grey of the morning has passed, and the sun
is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with
trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and
little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till
I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There are many odd things
to put down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well
before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on
what they call "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned
with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the
simple style of the London cat's-meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch,
which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not
disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I
saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of
me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people
who were sitting on the bench outside the door--which they call by a
name meaning "word-bearer"--came and listened, and then they looked
at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often
repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the
crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked
them out. I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them
were "Ordog"--Satan, "pokol"--hell, "stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and
"vlkoslak"--both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and
the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire.
(_Mem. _, I must ask the Count about these superstitions. )

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this
time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross
and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty I got a
fellow-passenger to tell me what they meant; he would not answer at
first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a
charm or guard against the evil eye. This was not very pleasant for
me, just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man; but
every one seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic
that I could not but be touched. I shall never forget the last glimpse
which I had of the inn-yard and its crowd of picturesque figures,
all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with
its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green
tubs clustered in the centre of the yard. Then our driver, whose wide
linen drawers covered the whole front of the box-seat--"gotza" they
call them--cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran
abreast, and we set off on our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of
the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or
rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might
not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green
sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep
hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable
end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit
blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the
green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out
amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran
the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut
out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down
the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we
seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand
then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing
no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in
summer-time excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after
the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run
of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are
not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair
them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring
in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at
loading point.

Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes
of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right
and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling upon them
and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep
blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where
grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and
pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where
the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in
the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and
again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched
my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty,
snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our
serpentine way, to be right before us:--

"Look! Isten szek! "--"God's seat! "--and he crossed himself reverently.
As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower
behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This
was emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the
sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and
there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I
noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many
crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here
and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did
not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender
of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There
were many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees and
here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white
stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now
and again we passed a leiterwagon--the ordinary peasant's cart, with
its long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of
the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming
peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their
coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long
staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold,
and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the
gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which
ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the
Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background
of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine
woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great
masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced
a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts
and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling
sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst
the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes
the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses
could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do
at home, but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said; "you
must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce! " and then he added, with
what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to
catch the approving smile of the rest--"and you may have enough of such
matters before you go to sleep. " The only stop he would make was a
moment's pause to light his lamps.

When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the
passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as
though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully
with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on
to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of
patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the
hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach
rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared
to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each
side and to frown down upon us; we were entering the Borgo Pass. One by
one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed upon
me with earnestness which would take no denial; these were certainly of
an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with a
kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of fear-meaning
movements which I had seen outside the hotel at Bistritz--the sign of
the cross and the guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along,
the driver leaned forward, and on each side the passengers, craning
over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was
evident that something very exciting was either happening or expected,
but though I asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest
explanation. This state of excitement kept on for some little time;
and at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern
side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the
heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain
range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into
the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance
which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the
glare of lamps through the blackness; but all was dark. The only light
was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which steam from our
hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could now see the sandy
road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle.
The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock
my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when
the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which
I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone; I
thought it was, "An hour less than the time. " Then, turning to me, he
said in German worse than my own:--

"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected, after all. He
will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day;
better the next day. " Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh
and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.
Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal
crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind
us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the
flash of our lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were
coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a
long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face
from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes,
which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the
driver:--

"You are early to-night, my friend. " The man stammered in reply:--

"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:--

"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You
cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are
swift. " As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking
mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory.
One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's
"Lenore:"--

"Denn die Todten reiten schnell. "--
("For the dead travel fast. ")

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a
gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time
putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's
luggage," said the driver; and with exceeding alacrity my bags were
handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of
the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me
with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must
have been prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses
turned, and we swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I
saw the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,
and projected against it the figures of my late companions crossing
themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses,
and off they swept on their way to Bukovina.

As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely
feeling came over me; but a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a
rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent German:--

"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take
all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz [the plum brandy of the
country] underneath the seat, if you should require it. " I did not take
any, but it was a comfort to know it was there, all the same. I felt a
little strange, and not a little frightened. I think had there been any
alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown
night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we
made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed
to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again;
and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so.
I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but
I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any
protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention
to delay. By and by, however, as I was curious to know how time was
passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch; it was
within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I
suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my
recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road--a
long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by
another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind
which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which
seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination
could grasp it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl
the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them
soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though
after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance,
from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and sharper
howling--that of wolves--which affected both the horses and myself in
the same way--for I was minded to jump from the caleche and run, whilst
they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use
all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few minutes,
however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the horses so far
became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to stand before
them. He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their
ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary
effect, for under his caresses they became quite manageable again,
though they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking
his reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the
far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which
ran sharply to the right.

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over
the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great
frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in
shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled
through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as
we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine powdery snow
began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a
white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs,
though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the
wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on
us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my
fear; but the driver was not in the least disturbed. He kept turning
his head to left and right, but I could not see anything through the
darkness.

Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The
driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses and,
jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know
what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but
while I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word
took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen
asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated
endlessly, and now, looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.
Once the flame appeared so near the road that even in the darkness
around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where
the blue flame rose--it must have been very faint, for it did not seem
to illumine the place around it at all--and gathering a few stones,
formed them into some device. Once there appeared a strange optical
effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it,
for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same. This startled me,
but as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived
me straining through the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue
flames, and we sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the
wolves around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.

At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he
had yet done, and during his absence the horses began to tremble worse
than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any
cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether; but
just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind
the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw
around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues,
with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times
more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they
howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only
when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can
understand their true import.

All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had
some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and
looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see;
but the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, and they
had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for
it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through
the ring and to aid his approach.
I shouted and beat the side of the
caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as
to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know
not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and
looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept
his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the
wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed
across the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and
the wolves had disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that
a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move.
The time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost
complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. We kept on
ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in the main
always ascending. Suddenly I became conscious of the fact that the
driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of 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 Harker's Journal/--_continued. _


_5 May. _--I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully
awake I must have noticed the approach to such a remarkable 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, for 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 adventure 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
London 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 nightmare to me, and I
expected that I should suddenly awake, and 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 foot, 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 with
a courtly gesture, saying in excellent 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 winding 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 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 without a window of any sort.
Passing through this, he opened another 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, 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 entrusted 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 much regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I 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 confidence. 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 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 desire had
drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he
offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he 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 moustache, was fixed and rather
cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded 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 extraordinary 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 palm. 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 over me, which, do what
I would, I could not conceal. 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
from 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:--

"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! " and, with a courteous 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!

_7 May. _--It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed 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 hearth. 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. " So 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 beautifully 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
for the howling of wolves. When 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 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 customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the
London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue" books, Whitaker's Almanack, 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 the 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 friends"--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 thoroughly! " 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 sees me, or pause in
his speaking if he hear my words, to say, '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 estate in
London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me a while, 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 better understand. " I said I was sure
of this, and then he went on:--

"We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are
not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from
what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something
of what strange things here may be. "

This led to much conversation. And as it was evident that he wanted to
talk, if only for talking's sake, I asked him many questions regarding
things that had already happened to me or come within my notice.
Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation by
pretending not to understand; but generally he answered all I asked
most frankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I
asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as, for
instance, why the coachman went to the places where we had seen the
blue flames. Was it indeed true that they showed where gold was hidden?
He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on a certain
night of the year--last night, in fact, when all evil spirits are
supposed to have unchecked sway--a blue flame is seen over any place
where treasure has been concealed. "That treasure has been hidden," he
went on, "in the region through which you came last night, there can be
but little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for centuries by
the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of
soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men,
patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when the
Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out
to meet them--men and women, the aged and the children too--and waited
their coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep
destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader
was triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been
sheltered in the friendly soil. "

"But how," said I, "can it have remained so long undiscovered, when
there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look? "
The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long,
sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely; he answered:--

"Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames
only appear on one night. And on that night no man of this land will,
if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he
did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell
me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in
daylight even for his own work. You would not, I dare be sworn, be able
to find these places again? "

"There you are right," I said. "I know no more than the dead where even
to look for them. " Then we drifted into other matters.

"Come," he said at last, "tell me of London and of the house which you
have procured for me. " With an apology for my remissness, I went into
my own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in
order I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as
I passed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamp
lit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also
lit in the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa,
reading, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw's Guide. When
I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table; and with him
I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested
in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and its
surroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on the
subject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at the end knew very
much more than I did. When I remarked this, he answered:--

"Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go there
I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan--nay, pardon me,
I fall into my country's habit of putting your patronymic first--my
friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me. He
will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of the law
with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So! "

We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at
Purfleet. When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the
necessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post to
Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable a
place. I read to him the notes which I had made at the time, and which
I inscribe here:--

"At Purfleet, on a by-road, I came across just such a place as seemed
to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that
the place was for sale. It is surrounded by a high wall, of ancient
structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large
number of years. The closed gates were of heavy old oak and iron, all
eaten with rust.

"The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old _Quatre
Face_, as the house is four-sided, agreeing with the cardinal points
of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded
by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it,
which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond
or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear
and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of
all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of
stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily
barred with iron.