Reading Help DRACULA by Bram Stoker Ch.1-12
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 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 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 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 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 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 a 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 pauses in his speaking if he hears 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 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 today, 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 there 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 he had seen the `
` blue flames. 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 `
` the 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. Even 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 byroad, 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 was 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 are 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. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an `
` old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of `
` the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak `
` views of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in `
` a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it `
` covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at `
` hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed `
` into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the `
` grounds." `
` `
` When I had finished, he said, "I am glad that it is old and big. I `
` myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. `
` A house cannot be made habitable in a day, and after all, how few days `
` go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old `
` times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may `
` lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the `
` bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which `
` please the young and gay. I am no longer young, and my heart, through `
` weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, `
` the walls of my castle are broken. The shadows are many, and the wind `
` breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love `
` the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I `
` may." Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else `
` it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and `
` saturnine. `
` `
` Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers `
` together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some `
` of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened `
` naturally to England, as if that map had been much used. On looking `
` at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining `
` these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly `
` where his new estate was situated. The other two were Exeter, and `
` Whitby on the Yorkshire coast. `
` `
` It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. "Aha!" he `
` said. "Still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. `
` Come! I am informed that your supper is ready." He took my arm, and `
`
` 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 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 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 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 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 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 a 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 pauses in his speaking if he hears 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 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 today, 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 there 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 he had seen the `
` blue flames. 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 `
` the 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. Even 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 byroad, 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 was 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 are 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. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an `
` old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of `
` the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak `
` views of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in `
` a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it `
` covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at `
` hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed `
` into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the `
` grounds." `
` `
` When I had finished, he said, "I am glad that it is old and big. I `
` myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. `
` A house cannot be made habitable in a day, and after all, how few days `
` go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old `
` times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may `
` lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the `
` bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which `
` please the young and gay. I am no longer young, and my heart, through `
` weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, `
` the walls of my castle are broken. The shadows are many, and the wind `
` breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love `
` the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I `
` may." Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else `
` it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and `
` saturnine. `
` `
` Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers `
` together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some `
` of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened `
` naturally to England, as if that map had been much used. On looking `
` at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining `
` these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly `
` where his new estate was situated. The other two were Exeter, and `
` Whitby on the Yorkshire coast. `
` `
` It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. "Aha!" he `
` said. "Still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. `
` Come! I am informed that your supper is ready." He took my arm, and `
`