Reading Help DRACULA by Bram Stoker Ch.13-27
`
` Of one thing I am now satisfied. That all those boxes which arrived at `
` Whitby from Varna in the Demeter were safely deposited in the old `
` chapel at Carfax. There should be fifty of them there, unless any `
` have since been removed, as from Dr. Seward's diary I fear. `
` `
` `
` Later.--Mina and I have worked all day, and we have put all the papers `
` into order. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL `
` `
` 30 September.--I am so glad that I hardly know how to contain myself. `
` It is, I suppose, the reaction from the haunting fear which I have `
` had, that this terrible affair and the reopening of his old wound `
` might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for Whitby with `
` as brave a face as could, but I was sick with apprehension. The `
` effort has, however, done him good. He was never so resolute, never `
` so strong, never so full of volcanic energy, as at present. It is `
` just as that dear, good Professor Van Helsing said, he is true grit, `
` and he improves under strain that would kill a weaker nature. He came `
` back full of life and hope and determination. We have got everything `
` in order for tonight. I feel myself quite wild with excitement. I `
` suppose one ought to pity anything so hunted as the Count. That is `
` just it. This thing is not human, not even a beast. To read Dr. `
` Seward's account of poor Lucy's death, and what followed, is enough to `
` dry up the springs of pity in one's heart. `
` `
` `
` Later.--Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arrived earlier than we `
` expected. Dr. Seward was out on business, and had taken Jonathan with `
` him, so I had to see them. It was to me a painful meeting, for it `
` brought back all poor dear Lucy's hopes of only a few months ago. Of `
` course they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr. Van `
` Helsing, too, had been quite 'blowing my trumpet', as Mr. Morris `
` expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of them is aware that I know all `
` about the proposals they made to Lucy. They did not quite know what `
` to say or do, as they were ignorant of the amount of my knowledge. So `
` they had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I thought the matter `
` over, and came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do would `
` be to post them on affairs right up to date. I knew from Dr. Seward's `
` diary that they had been at Lucy's death, her real death, and that I `
` need not fear to betray any secret before the time. So I told them, `
` as well as I could, that I had read all the papers and diaries, and `
` that my husband and I, having typewritten them, had just finished `
` putting them in order. I gave them each a copy to read in the `
` library. When Lord Godalming got his and turned it over, it does make `
` a pretty good pile, he said, "Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker?" `
` `
` I nodded, and he went on. `
` `
` "I don't quite see the drift of it, but you people are all so good and `
` kind, and have been working so earnestly and so energetically, that `
` all I can do is to accept your ideas blindfold and try to help you. I `
` have had one lesson already in accepting facts that should make a man `
` humble to the last hour of his life. Besides, I know you loved my `
` Lucy . . ." `
` `
` Here he turned away and covered his face with his hands. I could hear `
` the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris, with instinctive delicacy, just `
` laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder, and then walked quietly out `
` of the room. I suppose there is something in a woman's nature that `
` makes a man free to break down before her and express his feelings on `
` the tender or emotional side without feeling it derogatory to his `
` manhood. For when Lord Godalming found himself alone with me he sat `
` down on the sofa and gave way utterly and openly. I sat down beside `
` him and took his hand. I hope he didn't think it forward of me, and `
` that if he ever thinks of it afterwards he never will have such a `
` thought. There I wrong him. I know he never will. He is too true a `
` gentleman. I said to him, for I could see that his heart was `
` breaking, "I loved dear Lucy, and I know what she was to you, and what `
` you were to her. She and I were like sisters, and now she is gone, `
` will you not let me be like a sister to you in your trouble? I know `
` what sorrows you have had, though I cannot measure the depth of them. `
` If sympathy and pity can help in your affliction, won't you let me be `
` of some little service, for Lucy's sake?" `
` `
` In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmed with grief. It `
` seemed to me that all that he had of late been suffering in silence `
` found a vent at once. He grew quite hysterical, and raising his open `
` hands, beat his palms together in a perfect agony of grief. He stood `
` up and then sat down again, and the tears rained down his cheeks. I `
` felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my arms unthinkingly. With `
` a sob he laid his head on my shoulder and cried like a wearied child, `
` whilst he shook with emotion. `
` `
` We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise above `
` smaller matters when the mother spirit is invoked. I felt this big `
` sorrowing man's head resting on me, as though it were that of a baby `
` that some day may lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair as though he `
` were my own child. I never thought at the time how strange it all `
` was. `
` `
` After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himself with an `
` apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me that `
` for days and nights past, weary days and sleepless nights, he had been `
` unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his time of `
` sorrow. There was no woman whose sympathy could be given to him, or `
` with whom, owing to the terrible circumstance with which his sorrow `
` was surrounded, he could speak freely. `
` `
` "I know now how I suffered," he said, as he dried his eyes, "but I do `
` not know even yet, and none other can ever know, how much your sweet `
` sympathy has been to me today. I shall know better in time, and `
` believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will `
` grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother, will `
` you not, for all our lives, for dear Lucy's sake?" `
` `
` "For dear Lucy's sake," I said as we clasped hands. "Ay, and for your `
` own sake," he added, "for if a man's esteem and gratitude are ever `
` worth the winning, you have won mine today. If ever the future should `
` bring to you a time when you need a man's help, believe me, you will `
` not call in vain. God grant that no such time may ever come to you to `
` break the sunshine of your life, but if it should ever come, promise `
` me that you will let me know." `
` `
` He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that I felt it would `
` comfort him, so I said, "I promise." `
` `
` As I came along the corridor I saw Mr. Morris looking out of a window. `
` He turned as he heard my footsteps. "How is Art?" he said. Then `
` noticing my red eyes, he went on, "Ah, I see you have been comforting `
` him. Poor old fellow! He needs it. No one but a woman can help a `
` man when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no one to comfort `
` him." `
` `
` He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bled for him. I saw `
` the manuscript in his hand, and I knew that when he read it he would `
` realize how much I knew, so I said to him, "I wish I could comfort all `
` who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and will `
` you come to me for comfort if you need it? You will know later why I `
` speak." `
` `
` He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took my hand, and raising `
` it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and `
` unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The `
` tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his `
` throat. He said quite calmly, "Little girl, you will never forget `
` that true hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!" Then he went `
` into the study to his friend. `
` `
` "Little girl!" The very words he had used to Lucy, and, oh, but he `
` proved himself a friend. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER 18 `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 30 September.--I got home at five o'clock, and found that Godalming `
` and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the `
` transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker had not yet `
` returned from his visit to the carriers' men, of whom Dr. Hennessey `
` had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I can `
` honestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in it, this `
` old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs. Harker said, `
` `
` "Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your patient, Mr. `
` Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your diary `
` interests me so much!" `
` `
` She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and `
` there was no possible reason why I should, so I took her with me. `
` When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see `
` him, to which he simply answered, "Why?" `
` `
` "She is going through the house, and wants to see every one in it," I `
` answered. `
` `
` "Oh, very well," he said, "let her come in, by all means, but just `
` wait a minute till I tidy up the place." `
` `
` His method of tidying was peculiar, he simply swallowed all the flies `
` and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite `
` evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference. When he `
` had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully, "Let the lady `
` come in," and sat down on the edge of his bed with his head down, but `
` with his eyelids raised so that he could see her as she entered. For `
` a moment I thought that he might have some homicidal intent. I `
` remembered how quiet he had been just before he attacked me in my own `
` study, and I took care to stand where I could seize him at once if he `
` attempted to make a spring at her. `
` `
` She came into the room with an easy gracefulness which would at once `
` command the respect of any lunatic, for easiness is one of the `
` qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling `
` pleasantly, and held out her hand. `
` `
` "Good evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you, for Dr. `
` Seward has told me of you." He made no immediate reply, but eyed her `
` all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look gave way to `
` one of wonder, which merged in doubt, then to my intense astonishment `
` he said, "You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You `
` can't be, you know, for she's dead." `
` `
`
` Of one thing I am now satisfied. That all those boxes which arrived at `
` Whitby from Varna in the Demeter were safely deposited in the old `
` chapel at Carfax. There should be fifty of them there, unless any `
` have since been removed, as from Dr. Seward's diary I fear. `
` `
` `
` Later.--Mina and I have worked all day, and we have put all the papers `
` into order. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL `
` `
` 30 September.--I am so glad that I hardly know how to contain myself. `
` It is, I suppose, the reaction from the haunting fear which I have `
` had, that this terrible affair and the reopening of his old wound `
` might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for Whitby with `
` as brave a face as could, but I was sick with apprehension. The `
` effort has, however, done him good. He was never so resolute, never `
` so strong, never so full of volcanic energy, as at present. It is `
` just as that dear, good Professor Van Helsing said, he is true grit, `
` and he improves under strain that would kill a weaker nature. He came `
` back full of life and hope and determination. We have got everything `
` in order for tonight. I feel myself quite wild with excitement. I `
` suppose one ought to pity anything so hunted as the Count. That is `
` just it. This thing is not human, not even a beast. To read Dr. `
` Seward's account of poor Lucy's death, and what followed, is enough to `
` dry up the springs of pity in one's heart. `
` `
` `
` Later.--Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arrived earlier than we `
` expected. Dr. Seward was out on business, and had taken Jonathan with `
` him, so I had to see them. It was to me a painful meeting, for it `
` brought back all poor dear Lucy's hopes of only a few months ago. Of `
` course they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr. Van `
` Helsing, too, had been quite 'blowing my trumpet', as Mr. Morris `
` expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of them is aware that I know all `
` about the proposals they made to Lucy. They did not quite know what `
` to say or do, as they were ignorant of the amount of my knowledge. So `
` they had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I thought the matter `
` over, and came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do would `
` be to post them on affairs right up to date. I knew from Dr. Seward's `
` diary that they had been at Lucy's death, her real death, and that I `
` need not fear to betray any secret before the time. So I told them, `
` as well as I could, that I had read all the papers and diaries, and `
` that my husband and I, having typewritten them, had just finished `
` putting them in order. I gave them each a copy to read in the `
` library. When Lord Godalming got his and turned it over, it does make `
` a pretty good pile, he said, "Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker?" `
` `
` I nodded, and he went on. `
` `
` "I don't quite see the drift of it, but you people are all so good and `
` kind, and have been working so earnestly and so energetically, that `
` all I can do is to accept your ideas blindfold and try to help you. I `
` have had one lesson already in accepting facts that should make a man `
` humble to the last hour of his life. Besides, I know you loved my `
` Lucy . . ." `
` `
` Here he turned away and covered his face with his hands. I could hear `
` the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris, with instinctive delicacy, just `
` laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder, and then walked quietly out `
` of the room. I suppose there is something in a woman's nature that `
` makes a man free to break down before her and express his feelings on `
` the tender or emotional side without feeling it derogatory to his `
` manhood. For when Lord Godalming found himself alone with me he sat `
` down on the sofa and gave way utterly and openly. I sat down beside `
` him and took his hand. I hope he didn't think it forward of me, and `
` that if he ever thinks of it afterwards he never will have such a `
` thought. There I wrong him. I know he never will. He is too true a `
` gentleman. I said to him, for I could see that his heart was `
` breaking, "I loved dear Lucy, and I know what she was to you, and what `
` you were to her. She and I were like sisters, and now she is gone, `
` will you not let me be like a sister to you in your trouble? I know `
` what sorrows you have had, though I cannot measure the depth of them. `
` If sympathy and pity can help in your affliction, won't you let me be `
` of some little service, for Lucy's sake?" `
` `
` In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmed with grief. It `
` seemed to me that all that he had of late been suffering in silence `
` found a vent at once. He grew quite hysterical, and raising his open `
` hands, beat his palms together in a perfect agony of grief. He stood `
` up and then sat down again, and the tears rained down his cheeks. I `
` felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my arms unthinkingly. With `
` a sob he laid his head on my shoulder and cried like a wearied child, `
` whilst he shook with emotion. `
` `
` We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise above `
` smaller matters when the mother spirit is invoked. I felt this big `
` sorrowing man's head resting on me, as though it were that of a baby `
` that some day may lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair as though he `
` were my own child. I never thought at the time how strange it all `
` was. `
` `
` After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himself with an `
` apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me that `
` for days and nights past, weary days and sleepless nights, he had been `
` unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his time of `
` sorrow. There was no woman whose sympathy could be given to him, or `
` with whom, owing to the terrible circumstance with which his sorrow `
` was surrounded, he could speak freely. `
` `
` "I know now how I suffered," he said, as he dried his eyes, "but I do `
` not know even yet, and none other can ever know, how much your sweet `
` sympathy has been to me today. I shall know better in time, and `
` believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will `
` grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother, will `
` you not, for all our lives, for dear Lucy's sake?" `
` `
` "For dear Lucy's sake," I said as we clasped hands. "Ay, and for your `
` own sake," he added, "for if a man's esteem and gratitude are ever `
` worth the winning, you have won mine today. If ever the future should `
` bring to you a time when you need a man's help, believe me, you will `
` not call in vain. God grant that no such time may ever come to you to `
` break the sunshine of your life, but if it should ever come, promise `
` me that you will let me know." `
` `
` He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that I felt it would `
` comfort him, so I said, "I promise." `
` `
` As I came along the corridor I saw Mr. Morris looking out of a window. `
` He turned as he heard my footsteps. "How is Art?" he said. Then `
` noticing my red eyes, he went on, "Ah, I see you have been comforting `
` him. Poor old fellow! He needs it. No one but a woman can help a `
` man when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no one to comfort `
` him." `
` `
` He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bled for him. I saw `
` the manuscript in his hand, and I knew that when he read it he would `
` realize how much I knew, so I said to him, "I wish I could comfort all `
` who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and will `
` you come to me for comfort if you need it? You will know later why I `
` speak." `
` `
` He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took my hand, and raising `
` it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and `
` unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The `
` tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his `
` throat. He said quite calmly, "Little girl, you will never forget `
` that true hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!" Then he went `
` into the study to his friend. `
` `
` "Little girl!" The very words he had used to Lucy, and, oh, but he `
` proved himself a friend. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER 18 `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 30 September.--I got home at five o'clock, and found that Godalming `
` and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the `
` transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker had not yet `
` returned from his visit to the carriers' men, of whom Dr. Hennessey `
` had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I can `
` honestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in it, this `
` old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs. Harker said, `
` `
` "Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your patient, Mr. `
` Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your diary `
` interests me so much!" `
` `
` She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and `
` there was no possible reason why I should, so I took her with me. `
` When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see `
` him, to which he simply answered, "Why?" `
` `
` "She is going through the house, and wants to see every one in it," I `
` answered. `
` `
` "Oh, very well," he said, "let her come in, by all means, but just `
` wait a minute till I tidy up the place." `
` `
` His method of tidying was peculiar, he simply swallowed all the flies `
` and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite `
` evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference. When he `
` had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully, "Let the lady `
` come in," and sat down on the edge of his bed with his head down, but `
` with his eyelids raised so that he could see her as she entered. For `
` a moment I thought that he might have some homicidal intent. I `
` remembered how quiet he had been just before he attacked me in my own `
` study, and I took care to stand where I could seize him at once if he `
` attempted to make a spring at her. `
` `
` She came into the room with an easy gracefulness which would at once `
` command the respect of any lunatic, for easiness is one of the `
` qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling `
` pleasantly, and held out her hand. `
` `
` "Good evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you, for Dr. `
` Seward has told me of you." He made no immediate reply, but eyed her `
` all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look gave way to `
` one of wonder, which merged in doubt, then to my intense astonishment `
` he said, "You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You `
` can't be, you know, for she's dead." `
` `
`