Reading Help DRACULA by Bram Stoker Ch.1-12
indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age again `
` and again brought his forces over the great river into Turkeyland, `
` who, when he was beaten back, came again, and again, though he had to `
` come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being `
` slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph! `
` They said that he thought only of himself. Bah! What good are `
` peasants without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and `
` heart to conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohacs, we `
` threw off the Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst `
` their leaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were not free. `
` Ah, young sir, the Szekelys, and the Dracula as their heart's blood, `
` their brains, and their swords, can boast a record that mushroom `
` growths like the Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs can never reach. The `
` warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of `
` dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale `
` that is told." `
` `
` It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. (Mem., this `
` diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for `
` everything has to break off at cockcrow, or like the ghost of Hamlet's `
` father.) `
` `
` `
` 12 May.--Let me begin with facts, bare, meager facts, verified by `
` books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I must not `
` confuse them with experiences which will have to rest on my own `
` observation, or my memory of them. Last evening when the Count came `
` from his room he began by asking me questions on legal matters and on `
` the doing of certain kinds of business. I had spent the day wearily `
` over books, and, simply to keep my mind occupied, went over some of `
` the matters I had been examined in at Lincoln's Inn. There was a `
` certain method in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them `
` down in sequence. The knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to `
` me. `
` `
` First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or more. `
` I told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it would not `
` be wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as `
` only one could act at a time, and that to change would be certain to `
` militate against his interest. He seemed thoroughly to understand, `
` and went on to ask if there would be any practical difficulty in having `
` one man to attend, say, to banking, and another to look after `
` shipping, in case local help were needed in a place far from the home `
` of the banking solicitor. I asked to explain more fully, so that I `
` might not by any chance mislead him, so he said, `
` `
` "I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from `
` under the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is far `
` from London, buys for me through your good self my place at London. `
` Good! Now here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange `
` that I have sought the services of one so far off from London instead `
` of some one resident there, that my motive was that no local interest `
` might be served save my wish only, and as one of London residence `
` might, perhaps, have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I `
` went thus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my `
` interest. Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship `
` goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it `
` not be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in `
` these ports?" `
` `
` I answered that certainly it would be most easy, but that we `
` solicitors had a system of agency one for the other, so that local `
` work could be done locally on instruction from any solicitor, so that `
` the client, simply placing himself in the hands of one man, could have `
` his wishes carried out by him without further trouble. `
` `
` "But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not `
` so?" `
` `
` "Of course," I replied, and "Such is often done by men of business, `
` who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known by any one `
` person." `
` `
` "Good!" he said, and then went on to ask about the means of making `
` consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of all sorts of `
` difficulties which might arise, but by forethought could be guarded `
` against. I explained all these things to him to the best of my `
` ability, and he certainly left me under the impression that he would `
` have made a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that he did not `
` think of or foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who `
` did not evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and `
` acumen were wonderful. When he had satisfied himself on these points `
` of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by `
` the books available, he suddenly stood up and said, "Have you written `
` since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins, or to any `
` other?" `
` `
` It was with some bitterness in my heart that I answered that I had `
` not, that as yet I had not seen any opportunity of sending letters to `
` anybody. `
` `
` "Then write now, my young friend," he said, laying a heavy hand on my `
` shoulder, "write to our friend and to any other, and say, if it will `
` please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now." `
` `
` "Do you wish me to stay so long?" I asked, for my heart grew cold at `
` the thought. `
` `
` "I desire it much, nay I will take no refusal. When your master, `
` employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on his `
` behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I `
` have not stinted. Is it not so?" `
` `
` What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkins' interest, not `
` mine, and I had to think of him, not myself, and besides, while Count `
` Dracula was speaking, there was that in his eyes and in his bearing `
` which made me remember that I was a prisoner, and that if I wished it `
` I could have no choice. The Count saw his victory in my bow, and his `
` mastery in the trouble of my face, for he began at once to use them, `
` but in his own smooth, resistless way. `
` `
` "I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not discourse of `
` things other than business in your letters. It will doubtless please `
` your friends to know that you are well, and that you look forward to `
` getting home to them. Is it not so?" As he spoke he handed me three `
` sheets of note paper and three envelopes. They were all of the `
` thinnest foreign post, and looking at them, then at him, and noticing `
` his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine teeth lying over the red `
` underlip, I understood as well as if he had spoken that I should be `
` more careful what I wrote, for he would be able to read it. So I `
` determined to write only formal notes now, but to write fully to Mr. `
` Hawkins in secret, and also to Mina, for to her I could write `
` shorthand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it. When I had `
` written my two letters I sat quiet, reading a book whilst the Count `
` wrote several notes, referring as he wrote them to some books on his `
` table. Then he took up my two and placed them with his own, and put `
` by his writing materials, after which, the instant the door had closed `
` behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters, which were face `
` down on the table. I felt no compunction in doing so for under the `
` circumstances I felt that I should protect myself in every way I `
` could. `
` `
` One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billington, No. 7, The `
` Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna. The third was to `
` Coutts & Co., London, and the fourth to Herren Klopstock & Billreuth, `
` bankers, Buda Pesth. The second and fourth were unsealed. I was just `
` about to look at them when I saw the door handle move. I sank back in `
` my seat, having just had time to resume my book before the Count, `
` holding still another letter in his hand, entered the room. He took `
` up the letters on the table and stamped them carefully, and then `
` turning to me, said, `
` `
` "I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private `
` this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish." At the `
` door he turned, and after a moment's pause said, "Let me advise you, `
` my dear young friend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that `
` should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in `
` any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and `
` there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should `
` sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your `
` own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But `
` if you be not careful in this respect, then," He finished his speech `
` in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing `
` them. I quite understood. My only doubt was as to whether any dream `
` could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and `
` mystery which seemed closing around me. `
` `
` `
` Later.--I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no `
` doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is `
` not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine `
` that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain. `
` `
` When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing `
` any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to where I could `
` look out towards the South. There was some sense of freedom in the `
` vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me, as compared with the `
` narrow darkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I `
` was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, `
` though it were of the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal `
` existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own `
` shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows `
` that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place! I `
` looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight `
` till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant `
` hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of `
` velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me. There was `
` peace and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the window `
` my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, and somewhat `
` to my left, where I imagined, from the order of the rooms, that the `
` windows of the Count's own room would look out. The window at which I `
` stood was tall and deep, stone-mullioned, and though weatherworn, was `
` still complete. But it was evidently many a day since the case had `
` been there. I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully `
` out. `
` `
` What I saw was the Count's head coming out from the window. I did not `
` see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his `
` back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had `
` had some many opportunities of studying. I was at first interested `
` and somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small a matter will `
` interest and amuse a man when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings `
` changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge `
` from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over the `
` dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like `
` great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was `
` some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept `
` looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw the fingers and toes `
` grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the `
` stress of years, and by thus using every projection and inequality `
` move downwards with considerable speed, just as a lizard moves along a `
`
` and again brought his forces over the great river into Turkeyland, `
` who, when he was beaten back, came again, and again, though he had to `
` come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being `
` slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph! `
` They said that he thought only of himself. Bah! What good are `
` peasants without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and `
` heart to conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohacs, we `
` threw off the Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst `
` their leaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were not free. `
` Ah, young sir, the Szekelys, and the Dracula as their heart's blood, `
` their brains, and their swords, can boast a record that mushroom `
` growths like the Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs can never reach. The `
` warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of `
` dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale `
` that is told." `
` `
` It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. (Mem., this `
` diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for `
` everything has to break off at cockcrow, or like the ghost of Hamlet's `
` father.) `
` `
` `
` 12 May.--Let me begin with facts, bare, meager facts, verified by `
` books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I must not `
` confuse them with experiences which will have to rest on my own `
` observation, or my memory of them. Last evening when the Count came `
` from his room he began by asking me questions on legal matters and on `
` the doing of certain kinds of business. I had spent the day wearily `
` over books, and, simply to keep my mind occupied, went over some of `
` the matters I had been examined in at Lincoln's Inn. There was a `
` certain method in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them `
` down in sequence. The knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to `
` me. `
` `
` First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or more. `
` I told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it would not `
` be wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as `
` only one could act at a time, and that to change would be certain to `
` militate against his interest. He seemed thoroughly to understand, `
` and went on to ask if there would be any practical difficulty in having `
` one man to attend, say, to banking, and another to look after `
` shipping, in case local help were needed in a place far from the home `
` of the banking solicitor. I asked to explain more fully, so that I `
` might not by any chance mislead him, so he said, `
` `
` "I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from `
` under the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is far `
` from London, buys for me through your good self my place at London. `
` Good! Now here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange `
` that I have sought the services of one so far off from London instead `
` of some one resident there, that my motive was that no local interest `
` might be served save my wish only, and as one of London residence `
` might, perhaps, have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I `
` went thus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my `
` interest. Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship `
` goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it `
` not be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in `
` these ports?" `
` `
` I answered that certainly it would be most easy, but that we `
` solicitors had a system of agency one for the other, so that local `
` work could be done locally on instruction from any solicitor, so that `
` the client, simply placing himself in the hands of one man, could have `
` his wishes carried out by him without further trouble. `
` `
` "But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not `
` so?" `
` `
` "Of course," I replied, and "Such is often done by men of business, `
` who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known by any one `
` person." `
` `
` "Good!" he said, and then went on to ask about the means of making `
` consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of all sorts of `
` difficulties which might arise, but by forethought could be guarded `
` against. I explained all these things to him to the best of my `
` ability, and he certainly left me under the impression that he would `
` have made a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that he did not `
` think of or foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who `
` did not evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and `
` acumen were wonderful. When he had satisfied himself on these points `
` of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by `
` the books available, he suddenly stood up and said, "Have you written `
` since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins, or to any `
` other?" `
` `
` It was with some bitterness in my heart that I answered that I had `
` not, that as yet I had not seen any opportunity of sending letters to `
` anybody. `
` `
` "Then write now, my young friend," he said, laying a heavy hand on my `
` shoulder, "write to our friend and to any other, and say, if it will `
` please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now." `
` `
` "Do you wish me to stay so long?" I asked, for my heart grew cold at `
` the thought. `
` `
` "I desire it much, nay I will take no refusal. When your master, `
` employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on his `
` behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I `
` have not stinted. Is it not so?" `
` `
` What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkins' interest, not `
` mine, and I had to think of him, not myself, and besides, while Count `
` Dracula was speaking, there was that in his eyes and in his bearing `
` which made me remember that I was a prisoner, and that if I wished it `
` I could have no choice. The Count saw his victory in my bow, and his `
` mastery in the trouble of my face, for he began at once to use them, `
` but in his own smooth, resistless way. `
` `
` "I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not discourse of `
` things other than business in your letters. It will doubtless please `
` your friends to know that you are well, and that you look forward to `
` getting home to them. Is it not so?" As he spoke he handed me three `
` sheets of note paper and three envelopes. They were all of the `
` thinnest foreign post, and looking at them, then at him, and noticing `
` his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine teeth lying over the red `
` underlip, I understood as well as if he had spoken that I should be `
` more careful what I wrote, for he would be able to read it. So I `
` determined to write only formal notes now, but to write fully to Mr. `
` Hawkins in secret, and also to Mina, for to her I could write `
` shorthand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it. When I had `
` written my two letters I sat quiet, reading a book whilst the Count `
` wrote several notes, referring as he wrote them to some books on his `
` table. Then he took up my two and placed them with his own, and put `
` by his writing materials, after which, the instant the door had closed `
` behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters, which were face `
` down on the table. I felt no compunction in doing so for under the `
` circumstances I felt that I should protect myself in every way I `
` could. `
` `
` One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billington, No. 7, The `
` Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna. The third was to `
` Coutts & Co., London, and the fourth to Herren Klopstock & Billreuth, `
` bankers, Buda Pesth. The second and fourth were unsealed. I was just `
` about to look at them when I saw the door handle move. I sank back in `
` my seat, having just had time to resume my book before the Count, `
` holding still another letter in his hand, entered the room. He took `
` up the letters on the table and stamped them carefully, and then `
` turning to me, said, `
` `
` "I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private `
` this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish." At the `
` door he turned, and after a moment's pause said, "Let me advise you, `
` my dear young friend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that `
` should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in `
` any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and `
` there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should `
` sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your `
` own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But `
` if you be not careful in this respect, then," He finished his speech `
` in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing `
` them. I quite understood. My only doubt was as to whether any dream `
` could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and `
` mystery which seemed closing around me. `
` `
` `
` Later.--I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no `
` doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is `
` not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine `
` that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain. `
` `
` When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing `
` any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to where I could `
` look out towards the South. There was some sense of freedom in the `
` vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me, as compared with the `
` narrow darkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I `
` was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, `
` though it were of the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal `
` existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own `
` shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows `
` that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place! I `
` looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight `
` till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant `
` hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of `
` velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me. There was `
` peace and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the window `
` my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, and somewhat `
` to my left, where I imagined, from the order of the rooms, that the `
` windows of the Count's own room would look out. The window at which I `
` stood was tall and deep, stone-mullioned, and though weatherworn, was `
` still complete. But it was evidently many a day since the case had `
` been there. I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully `
` out. `
` `
` What I saw was the Count's head coming out from the window. I did not `
` see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his `
` back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had `
` had some many opportunities of studying. I was at first interested `
` and somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small a matter will `
` interest and amuse a man when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings `
` changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge `
` from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over the `
` dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like `
` great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was `
` some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept `
` looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw the fingers and toes `
` grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the `
` stress of years, and by thus using every projection and inequality `
` move downwards with considerable speed, just as a lizard moves along a `
`