No More Learning

I want no souls. Life is all I want. " Here he brightened
up: "I am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life is all right;
I have all I want. You must get a new patient, doctor, if you wish to
study zoophagy! "

This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on:--

"Then you command life; you are a god, I suppose? " He smiled with an
ineffably benign superiority.

"Oh no! Far be it from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the
Deity. I am not even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If
I may state my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things
purely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied
spiritually! " This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall
Enoch's appositeness; so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt
that by doing so I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic:--

"And why Enoch? "

"Because he walked with God. " I could not see the analogy, but did not
like to admit it; so I harked back to what he had denied:--

"So you don't care about life and you don't want souls. Why not? " I put
my question quickly and somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him.
The effort succeeded; for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into his
old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually fawned upon me as
he replied:--

"I don't want any souls, indeed, indeed! I don't. I couldn't use them
if I had them; they would be no manner of use to me. I couldn't eat
them or----" He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over
his face, like a wind-sweep on the surface of the water. "And, Doctor,
as to life, what is it after all? When you've got all you require, and
you know that you will never want, that is all. I have friends--good
friends--like you Doctor Seward;" this was said with a leer of
inexpressible cunning, "I know that I shall never lack the means of
life! "

I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some
antagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of such as
he--a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the present it
was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came away.

Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have come
without special reason, but just at present I am so interested in him
that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to have anything
to help to pass the time. Harker is out, following up clues; and so are
Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in my study poring over
the record prepared by the Harkers; he seems to think that by accurate
knowledge of all details he will light upon some clue. He does not wish
to be disturbed in the work, without cause. I would have taken him with
me to see the patient, only I thought that after his last repulse he
might not care to go again. There was also another reason: Renfield
might not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I were
alone.

I found him sitting out in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose
which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When I
came in, he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on his
lips:--

"What about souls? " It was evident then that my surmise had been
correct. Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with
the lunatic. I determined to have the matter out. "What about them
yourself? " I asked. He did not reply for a moment but looked all round
him, and up and down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for
an answer.

"I don't want any souls! " he said in a feeble, apologetic way. The
matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use it--to "be
cruel only to be kind. " So I said:--

"You like life, and you want life? "

"Oh yes! but that is all right; you needn't worry about that! "

"But," I asked, "how are we to get the life without getting the soul
also? " This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up:--

"A nice time you'll have some time when you're flying out there, with
the souls of thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing
and twittering and miauing all round you. You've got their lives, you
know, and you must put up with their souls! " Something seemed to affect
his imagination, for he put his fingers to his ears and shut his eyes,
screwing them up tightly just as a small boy does when his face is being
soaped. There was something pathetic in it that touched me; it also gave
me a lesson, for it seemed that before me was a child--only a child,
though the features were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. It
was evident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,
and, knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly foreign
to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well as I could and
go with him. The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,
speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed ears:--

"Would you like some sugar to get your flies round again! " He seemed to
wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a laugh he replied:--

"Not much! flies are poor things, after all! " After a pause he added,
"But I don't want their souls buzzing round me, all the same. "

"Or spiders," I went on.

"Blow spiders! What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything in them
to eat or"--he stopped suddenly, as though reminded of a forbidden
topic.

"So, so! " I thought to myself, "this is the second time he has suddenly
stopped at the word 'drink'; what does it mean? " Renfield seemed himself
aware of having made a lapse, for he hurried on, as though to distract
my attention from it:--

"I don't take any stock at all in such matters. 'Rats and mice and such
small deer' as Shakespeare has it; 'chicken-feed of the larder' they
might be called. I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might as well
ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chop-sticks, as to try to
interest me about the lesser carnivora, when I know of what is before
me. "

"I see," I said. "You want big things that you can make your teeth meet
in? How would you like to breakfast on elephant? "

"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking! " He was getting too wide
awake, so I thought I would press him hard. "I wonder," I said
reflectively, "what an elephant's soul is like! "

The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his
high-horse and became a child again.

"I don't want an elephant's soul, or any soul at all! " he said. For a
few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, with
his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement. "To
hell with you and your souls! " he shouted. "Why do you plague me about
souls? Haven't I got enough to worry, and pain, and distract me already,
without thinking of souls? " He looked so hostile that I thought he
was in for another homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle. The instant,
however, that I did so he became calm, and said apologetically:--

"Forgive me, Doctor; I forgot myself. You do not need any help. I am so
worried in my mind that I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew the
problem I have to face, and that I am working out, you would pity, and
tolerate, and pardon me. Pray do not put me in a strait-waistcoat. I
want to think and I cannot think freely when my body is confined. I am
sure you will understand! " He had evidently self-control; so when the
attendants came I told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield
watched them go; when the door was closed he said, with considerable
dignity and sweetness:--

"Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me. Believe me
that I am very very grateful to you! " I thought it well to leave him in
this mood, and so I came away. There is certainly something to ponder
over in this man's state. Several points seem to make what the American
interviewer calls "a story," if one could only get them in proper order.
Here they are:--

Will not mention "drinking. "

Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of anything.

Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future.

Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads being
haunted by their souls.

Logically all these things point one way! he has assurance of some kind
that he will acquire some higher life. He dreads the consequence--the
burden of a soul. Then it is a human life he looks to!

And the assurance--?

Merciful God! the Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of
terror afoot!

_Later. _--I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my
suspicion. He grew very grave; and, after thinking the matter over for a
while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came to the door
we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the time
which now seems so long ago. When we entered we saw with amazement that
he had spread out his sugar as of old; the flies, lethargic with the
autumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk
of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He
went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present. He had
got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a note-book. We had to come
away as ignorant as we went in.

His is a curious case indeed; we must watch him to-night.


_Letter, Mitchell, Sons and Candy to Lord Godalming_

"_1 October. _

"My Lord,

"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg, with
regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker on your
behalf, to supply the following information concerning the sale and
purchase of No. 347, Piccadilly. The original vendors are the executors
of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The purchaser is a foreign
nobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the purchase himself paying the
purchase money in notes 'over the counter,' if your Lordship will pardon
us using so vulgar an expression. Beyond this we know nothing whatever
of him.

"We are, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's humble servants,
"/Mitchell, Sons & Candy. /"


_Dr. Seward's Diary. _

_2 October. _--I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told him to
make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from Renfield's room,
and gave him instructions that if there should be anything strange he
was to call me. After dinner, when we had all gathered round the fire in
the study--Mrs. Harker having gone to bed--we discussed the attempts and
discoveries of the day. Harker was the only one who had any result, and
we are in great hopes that his clue may be an important one.

Before going to bed I went round to the patient's room and looked in
through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly, and his chest
rose and fell with regular respiration.

This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after midnight
he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. I asked
him if that was all; he replied that it was all he heard. There was
something about his manner so suspicious that I asked point-blank if he
had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted to having "dozed" for a
while. It is too bad that men cannot be trusted unless they are watched.

To-day Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are
looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to have
horses always in readiness, for when we get the information which we
seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilise all the imported
earth between sunrise and sunset; we shall thus catch the Count at his
weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to the
British Museum, looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. The
old physicians took account of things which their followers do not
accept, and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures which
may be useful later.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in
strait-waistcoats.

_Later. _--We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track,
and our work of to-morrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder
if Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so
followed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of the
monster may be carried to him in some subtle way. If we could only get
some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my argument
with him to-day and his resumption of fly-catching, it might afford us a
valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell. . . . Is he? ---- that
wild yell seemed to come from his room. . . .

The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had
somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell; and when he went
to him found him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood.
I must go at once. . . .




CHAPTER XXI.

/Dr. Seward's Diary. /


_3 October. _--Let me put down with exactness all that happened, as well
as I can remember it, since last I made an entry. Not a detail that I
can recall must be forgotten; in all calmness I must proceed.

When I came to Renfield's room I found him lying on the floor on his
left side in a glittering pool of blood. When I went to move him, it
became at once apparent that he had received some terrible injuries;
there seemed none of that unity of purpose between the parts of the
body which marks even lethargic sanity. As the face was exposed I could
see that it was horribly bruised, as though it had been beaten against
the floor--indeed it was from the face wounds that the pool of blood
originated. The attendant who was kneeling beside the body said to me as
we turned him over:--

"I think, sir, his back is broken. See, both his right arm and leg
and the whole side of his face are paralysed. " How such a thing could
have happened puzzled the attendant beyond measure. He seemed quite
bewildered, and his brows were gathered in as he said:--

"I can't understand the two things. He could mark his face like that
by beating his own head on the ground. I saw a young woman do it once
at the Eversfield Asylum before anyone could lay hands on her. And I
suppose he might have broke his back by falling out of bed, if he got
in an awkward kink. But for the life of me I can't imagine how the two
things occurred. If his back was broke, he couldn't beat his head; and
if his face was like that before the fall out of bed, there would be
marks of it. " I said to him:--

"Go to Dr. Van Helsing, and ask him to kindly come here at once. I want
him without an instant's delay. " The man ran off, and within a very few
minutes the Professor, in his dressing-gown and slippers appeared. When
he saw Renfield on the ground, he looked keenly at him a moment and then
turned to me. I think he recognized my thought in my eyes, for he said
very quietly, manifestly for the ears of the attendant:--

"Ah, a sad accident! He will need very careful watching, and much
attention. I shall stay with you myself; but I shall first dress myself.
If you will remain I shall in a few minutes join you.
"

The patient was now breathing stertorously, and it was easy to see
that he had suffered some terrible injury. Van Helsing returned with
extraordinary celerity, bearing with him a surgical case. He had
evidently been thinking and had his mind made up; for, almost before he
looked at the patient, he whispered to me:--

"Send the attendant away. We must be alone with him when he becomes
conscious, after the operation. " So I said:--

"I think that will do now, Simmons. We have done all that we can at
present. You had better go your round, and Dr. Van Helsing will operate.
Let me know instantly if there be anything unusual anywhere. "

The man withdrew, and we went into a strict examination of the patient.
The wounds of the face were superficial; the real injury was a depressed
fracture of the skull, extending right up through the motor area. The
Professor thought a moment and said:--

"We must reduce the pressure and get back to normal conditions, as far
as can be; the rapidity of the suffusion shows the terrible nature of
his injury. The whole motor area seems affected. The suffusion of the
brain will increase quickly, so we must trephine at once or it may be
too late. " As he was speaking there was a soft tapping at the door. I
went over and opened it and found in the corridor without, Arthur and
Quincey in pyjamas and slippers: the former spoke:--

"I heard your man call up Dr. Van Helsing and tell him of an accident.
So I woke Quincey, or rather called for him as he was not asleep. Things
are moving too quickly and too strangely for sound sleep for any of
us these times. I've been thinking that to-morrow night will not see
things as they have been. We'll have to look back--and forward a little
more than we have done. May we come in? " I nodded, and held the door
open till they had entered; then I closed it again. When Quincey saw the
attitude and state of the patient, and noted the horrible pool on the
floor, he said softly:--

"My God! what has happened to him? Poor, poor devil! " I told him
briefly, and added that we expected he would recover consciousness after
the operation--for a short time at all events. He went at once and sat
down on the edge of the bed, with Godalming beside him; we all watched
in patience.

"We shall wait," said Van Helsing, "just long enough to fix the best
spot for trephining, so that we may most quickly and perfectly remove
the blood clot; for it is evident that the haemorrhage is increasing. "

The minutes during which we waited passed with fearful slowness. I had
a horrible sinking in my heart, and from Van Helsing's face I gathered
that he felt some fear or apprehension as to what was to come. I
dreaded the words that Renfield might speak. I was positively afraid to
think; but the conviction of what was coming was on me, as I have read
of men who have heard the death-watch. The poor man's breathing came
in uncertain gasps. Each instant he seemed as though he would open his
eyes and speak; but then would follow a prolonged stertorous breath,
and he would relapse into a more fixed insensibility. Inured as I was
to sick-beds and death, this suspense grew, and grew upon me. I could
almost hear the beating of my own heart; and the blood surging through
my temples sounded like blows from a hammer. The silence finally became
agonising. I looked at my companions, one after another, and saw from
their flushed faces and damp brows that they were enduring equal
torture. There was a nervous suspense over us all, as though overhead
some dread bell would peal out powerfully when we should least expect
it.

At last there came a time when it was evident that the patient was
sinking fast; he might die at any moment. I looked up at the Professor
and caught his eyes fixed on mine. His face was sternly set as he
spoke:--

"There is no time to lose. His words may be worth many lives; I have
been thinking so, as I stood here. It may be there is a soul at stake!
We shall operate just above the ear. "

Without another word he made the operation. For a few moments the
breathing continued to be stertorous. Then there came a breath so
prolonged that it seemed as though it would tear open his chest.
Suddenly his eyes opened, and became fixed in a wild, helpless
stare. This was continued for a few moments; then it softened into
a glad surprise, and from the lips came a sigh of relief. He moved
convulsively, and as he did so, said:--

"I'll be quiet, Doctor. Tell them to take off the strait-waistcoat. I
have had a terrible dream, and it has left me so weak that I cannot
move. What's wrong with my face? It feels all swollen, and it smarts
dreadfully. " He tried to turn his head; but even with the effort his
eyes seemed to grow glassy again, so I gently put it back. Then Van
Helsing said in a quiet, grave tone:--

"Tell us your dream, Mr. Renfield. " As he heard the voice his face
brightened through its mutilation, and he said:--

"That is Dr. Van Helsing. How good it is of you to be here. Give me some
water, my lips are dry; and I shall try to tell you. I dreamed"--he
stopped and seemed fainting. I called quietly to Quincey--"The
brandy--it is in my study--quick! " He flew and returned with a glass,
the decanter of brandy and a carafe of water. We moistened the parched
lips, and the patient quickly revived. It seemed, however, that his poor
injured brain had been working in the interval, for, when he was quite
conscious, he looked at me piercingly with an agonised confusion which I
shall never forget, and said:--

"I must not deceive myself; it was no dream, but all a grim reality. "
Then his eyes roved round the room; as they caught sight of the two
figures sitting patiently on the edge of the bed he went on:--

"If I were not sure already, I should know from them. " For an instant
his eyes closed--not with pain or sleep but voluntarily, as though he
were bringing all his faculties to bear; when he opened them he said,
hurriedly, and with more energy than he had yet displayed:--

"Quick, Doctor, quick. I am dying! I feel that I have but a few minutes;
and then I must go back to death--or worse! Wet my lips with brandy
again. I have something that I must say before I die; or before my
poor crushed brain dies anyhow. Thank you! It was that night after you
left me, when I implored you to let me go away. I couldn't speak then,
for I felt my tongue was tied; but I was as sane then, except in that
way, as I am now. I was in an agony of despair for a long time after
you left me; it seemed hours. Then there came a sudden peace to me. My
brain seemed to become cool again, and I realized where I was. I heard
the dogs bark behind our house, but not where He was! " As he spoke
Van Helsing's eyes never blinked, but his hand came out and met mine
and gripped it hard. He did not, however, betray himself; he nodded
slightly, and said: "Go on," in a low voice. Renfield proceeded:--

"He came up to the window in the mist, as I had seen him often before;
but he was solid then--not a ghost, and his eyes were fierce like a
man's when angry. He was laughing with his red mouth; the sharp white
teeth glinted in the moonlight when He turned to look back over the belt
of trees, to where the dogs were barking. I wouldn't ask him to come in
at first, though I knew he wanted to--just as he had wanted all along.
Then he began promising me things--not in words but by doing them. " He
was interrupted by a word from the Professor:--

"How? "

"By making them happen; just as he used to send in the flies when the
sun was shining. Great big fat ones with steel and sapphire on their
wings; and big moths, in the night, with skull and cross-bones on their
backs. " Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously:--

"The _Acberontia atropos of the Sphinges_--what you call the
'Death's-head moth! '" The patient went on without stopping.

"Then he began to whisper: 'Rats, rats, rats! Hundreds, thousands,
millions of them, and every one a life; and dogs to eat them, and cats
too. All lives! all red blood, with years of life in it; and not merely
buzzing flies! ' I laughed at him, for I wanted to see what he could
do. Then the dogs howled, away beyond the dark trees in His house. He
beckoned me to the window. I got up and looked out, and He raised his
hands, and seemed to call out without using any words. A dark mass
spread over the grass, coming on like the shape of a flame of fire;
and then He moved the mist to the right and left, and I could see that
there were thousands of rats with their eyes blazing red--like His,
only smaller. He held up his hand, and they all stopped; and I thought
He seemed to be saying: 'All these lives will I give you, ay, and many
more and greater, through countless ages, if you will fall down and
worship me! ' And then a red cloud, like the colour of blood, seemed to
close over my eyes; and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself
opening the sash and saying to Him: 'Come in, Lord and Master! ' The rats
were all gone, but He slid into the room through the sash, though it
was only open an inch wide--just as the Moon herself has often come in
through the tiniest crack, and has stood before me in all her size and
splendour. "

His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lips with the brandy again, and
he continued; but it seemed as though his memory had gone on working in
the interval, for his story was further advanced. I was about to call
him back to the point, but Van Helsing whispered to me: "Let him go on.
Do not interrupt him; he cannot go back, and maybe could not proceed at
all if once he lost the thread of his thought. " He proceeded:--

"All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not send me anything, not
even a blow-fly, and when the moon got up I was pretty angry with him.
When he slid in through the window, though it was shut, and did not even
knock, I got mad with him. He sneered at me, and his white face looked
out of the mist with his red eyes gleaming, and he went on as though he
owned the whole place, and I was no one. He didn't even smell the same
as he went by me. I couldn't hold him. I thought that, somehow, Mrs.
Harker had come into the room. "

The two men sitting on the bed stood up and came over, standing behind
him so that he could not see them, but where they could hear better.
They were both silent, but the Professor started and quivered; his
face, however, grew grimmer and sterner still. Renfield went on without
noticing:--

"When Mrs. Harker came in to see me this afternoon she wasn't the same;
it was like tea after the teapot had been watered. " Here we all moved,
but no one said a word; he went on:--

"I didn't know that she was here till she spoke; and she didn't look the
same. I don't care for the pale people; I like them with lots of blood
in them, and hers had all seemed to have run out. I didn't think of it
at the time; but when she went away I began to think, and it made me mad
to know that He had been taking the life out of her. " I could feel that
the rest quivered, as I did; but we remained otherwise still. "So when
He came to-night I was ready for Him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I
grabbed it tight. I had heard that madmen have unnatural strength; and
as I knew I was a madman--at times anyhow--I resolved to use my power.
Ay, and He felt it too, for He had to come out of the mist to struggle
with me. I held tight; and I thought I was going to win, for I didn't
mean Him to take any more of her life, till I saw His eyes. They burned
into me, and my strength became like water. He slipped through it, and
when I tried to cling to Him, He raised me up and flung me down. There
was a red cloud before me, and a noise like thunder, and the mist seemed
to steal away under the door. " His voice was becoming fainter and his
breath more stertorous. Van Helsing stood up instinctively.

"We know the worst now," he said. "He is here, and we know his purpose.
It may not be too late. Let us be armed--the same as we were the other
night, but lose no time; there is not an instant to spare. " There was no
need to put our fear, nay our conviction, into words--we shared them in
common. We all hurried and took from our rooms the same things that we
had when we entered the Count's house. The Professor had his ready and
as we met in the corridor he pointed to them significantly as he said:--

"They never leave me; and they shall not till this unhappy business is
over. Be wise also, my friends. It is no common enemy that we deal with.
Alas! alas! that the dear Madam Mina should suffer. " He stopped; his
voice was breaking, and I do not know if rage or terror predominated in
my own heart.

Outside the Harkers' door we paused. Art and Quincey held back, and the
latter said:--

"Should we disturb her? "

"We must," said Van Helsing grimly. "If the door be locked, I shall
break it in. "

"May it not frighten her terribly? It is unusual to break into a lady's
room! " Van Helsing said solemnly:--

"You are always right; but this is life and death. All chambers are
alike to the doctor; and even were they not they are all as one to me
to-night. Friend John, when I turn the handle, if the door does not
open, do you put your shoulder down and shove; and you too, my friends.
Now! "

He turned the handle as he spoke, but the door did not yield. We threw
ourselves against it; with a crash it burst open, and we almost fell
headlong into the room. The Professor did actually fall, and I saw
across him as he gathered himself up from hands and knees. What I saw
appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on the back of my neck,
and my heart seemed to stand still.

The moonlight was so bright that through the thick yellow blind the
room was light enough to see. On the bed beside the window lay Jonathan
Harker, his face flushed, and breathing heavily as though in a stupor.
Kneeling on the near edge of the bed facing outwards was the white-clad
figure of his wife. By her side stood a tall, thin man, clad in black.
His face was turned from us, but the instant we saw it we all recognised
the Count--in every way, even to the scar on his forehead. With his left
hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms
at full tension; his right hand gripped her by the back of the neck,
forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared
with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare breast which
was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible
resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk
to compel it to drink. As we burst into the room, the Count turned his
face, and the hellish look that I had heard described seemed to leap
into it. His eyes flamed red with devilish passion; the great nostrils
of the white aquiline nose opened wide and quivered at the edge; and the
white sharp teeth, behind the full lips of the blood-dripping mouth,
champed together like those of a wild beast. With a wrench, which threw
his victim back upon the bed as though hurled from a height, he turned
and sprang at us. But by this time the Professor had gained his feet,
and was holding towards him the envelope which contained the Sacred
Wafer. The Count suddenly stopped, just as poor Lucy had done outside
the tomb, and cowered back. Further and further back he cowered, as we,
lifting our crucifixes, advanced. The moonlight suddenly failed, as a
great black cloud sailed across the sky; and when the gaslight sprang up
under Quincey's match, we saw nothing but a faint vapour. This, as we
looked, trailed under the door, which with the recoil from its bursting
open had swung back to its old position. Van Helsing, Art and I moved
forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath and with
it had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing, so despairing that it
seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till my dying day. For a
few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude and disarray. Her face was
ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated by the blood which smeared
her lips and cheeks and chin; from her throat trickled a thin stream of
blood. Her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her
poor crushed hands, which bore on their whiteness the red mark of the
Count's terrible grip, and from behind them came a low desolate wail
which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an
endless grief. Van Helsing stepped forward and drew the coverlet gently
over her body, whilst Art, after looking at her face for an instant
despairingly, ran out of the room. Van Helsing whispered to me:--

"Jonathan is in a stupor such as we know the Vampire can produce.
We can do nothing with poor Madam Mina for a few moments till she
recovers herself; I must wake him! " He dipped the end of a towel in
cold water and with it began to flick him on the face, his wife all
the while holding her face between her hands and sobbing in a way that
was heart-breaking to hear. I raised the blind, and looked out of the
window. There was much moonshine; and as I looked I could see Quincey
Morris run across the lawn and hide himself in the shadow of a great yew
tree. It puzzled me to think why he was doing this; but at the instant
I heard Harker's quick exclamation as he woke to partial consciousness,
and turned to the bed. On his face, as there might well be, was a look
of wild amazement. He seemed dazed for a few seconds, and then full
consciousness seemed to burst upon him all at once, and he started up.
His wife was aroused by the quick movement, and turned to him with her
arms stretched out, as though to embrace him; instantly, however, she
drew them in again, and putting her elbows together, held her hands
before her face, and shuddered till the bed beneath her shook.

"In God's name what does this mean? " Harker cried out. "Dr. Seward, Dr.
Van Helsing, what is it? What has happened? What is wrong? Mina, dear,
what is it?