Reading Help DRACULA by Bram Stoker Ch.13-27
`
` "Jonathan will be here at half-past eleven, and you must come to lunch `
` with us and see him then. You could catch the quick 3:34 train, which `
` will leave you at Paddington before eight." He was surprised at my `
` knowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not know that I have made `
` up all the trains to and from Exeter, so that I may help Jonathan in `
` case he is in a hurry. `
` `
` So he took the papers with him and went away, and I sit here thinking, `
` thinking I don't know what. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` LETTER (by hand), VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER `
` `
` 25 September, 6 o'clock `
` `
` "Dear Madam Mina, `
` `
` "I have read your husband's so wonderful diary. You may `
` sleep without doubt. Strange and terrible as it is, it is `
` true! I will pledge my life on it. It may be worse for `
` others, but for him and you there is no dread. He is a `
` noble fellow, and let me tell you from experience of men, `
` that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and `
` to that room, aye, and going a second time, is not one to `
` be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his `
` heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seen `
` him, so be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of other `
` things. I am blessed that today I come to see you, for I `
` have learn all at once so much that again I am dazzled, `
` dazzled more than ever, and I must think. `
` `
` "Yours the most faithful, `
` `
` "Abraham Van Helsing." `
` `
` `
` LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING `
` `
` 25 September, 6:30 P.M. `
` `
` "My dear Dr. Van Helsing, `
` `
` "A thousand thanks for your kind letter, which has taken a `
` great weight off my mind. And yet, if it be true, what `
` terrible things there are in the world, and what an awful `
` thing if that man, that monster, be really in London! I `
` fear to think. I have this moment, whilst writing, had a `
` wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by the 6:25 tonight `
` from Launceston and will be here at 10:18, so that I shall have `
` no fear tonight. Will you, therefore, instead of lunching with `
` us, please come to breakfast at eight o'clock, if this be not too `
` early for you? You can get away, if you are in a hurry, by the `
` 10:30 train, which will bring you to Paddington by 2:35. Do not `
` answer this, as I shall take it that, if I do not hear, you will `
` come to breakfast. `
` `
` "Believe me, `
` `
` "Your faithful and grateful friend, `
` `
` "Mina Harker." `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL `
` `
` 26 September.--I thought never to write in this diary again, but the `
` time has come. When I got home last night Mina had supper ready, and `
` when we had supped she told me of Van Helsing's visit, and of her `
` having given him the two diaries copied out, and of how anxious she `
` has been about me. She showed me in the doctor's letter that all I `
` wrote down was true. It seems to have made a new man of me. It was `
` the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that knocked me over. `
` I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I `
` know, I am not afraid, even of the Count. He has succeeded after all, `
` then, in his design in getting to London, and it was he I saw. He has `
` got younger, and how? Van Helsing is the man to unmask him and hunt `
` him out, if he is anything like what Mina says. We sat late, and `
` talked it over. Mina is dressing, and I shall call at the hotel in a `
` few minutes and bring him over. `
` `
` `
` He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I came into the room where `
` he was, and introduced myself, he took me by the shoulder, and turned `
` my face round to the light, and said, after a sharp scrutiny, `
` `
` "But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you had had a shock." `
` `
` It was so funny to hear my wife called 'Madam Mina' by this kindly, `
` strong-faced old man. I smiled, and said, "I was ill, I have had a `
` shock, but you have cured me already." `
` `
` "And how?" `
` `
` "By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and then `
` everything took a hue of unreality, and I did not know what to trust, `
` even the evidence of my own senses. Not knowing what to trust, I did `
` not know what to do, and so had only to keep on working in what had `
` hitherto been the groove of my life. The groove ceased to avail me, `
` and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt `
` everything, even yourself. No, you don't, you couldn't with eyebrows `
` like yours." `
` `
` He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said, "So! You are a `
` physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour. I am with so much `
` pleasure coming to you to breakfast, and, oh, sir, you will pardon `
` praise from an old man, but you are blessed in your wife." `
` `
` I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, so I simply `
` nodded and stood silent. `
` `
` "She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men `
` and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that `
` its light can be here on earth. So true, so sweet, so noble, so `
` little an egoist, and that, let me tell you, is much in this age, so `
` sceptical and selfish. And you, sir . . . I have read all the letters `
` to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know you since `
` some days from the knowing of others, but I have seen your true self `
` since last night. You will give me your hand, will you not? And let `
` us be friends for all our lives." `
` `
` We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made me `
` quite choky. `
` `
` "And now," he said, "may I ask you for some more help? I have a great `
` task to do, and at the beginning it is to know. You can help me `
` here. Can you tell me what went before your going to Transylvania? `
` Later on I may ask more help, and of a different kind, but at first `
` this will do." `
` `
` "Look here, Sir," I said, "does what you have to do concern the `
` Count?" `
` `
` "It does," he said solemnly. `
` `
` "Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go by the 10:30 train, you `
` will not have time to read them, but I shall get the bundle of papers. `
` You can take them with you and read them in the train." `
` `
` After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we were parting he `
` said, "Perhaps you will come to town if I send for you, and take Madam `
` Mina too." `
` `
` "We shall both come when you will," I said. `
` `
` I had got him the morning papers and the London papers of the previous `
` night, and while we were talking at the carriage window, waiting for `
` the train to start, he was turning them over. His eyes suddenly `
` seemed to catch something in one of them, "The Westminster Gazette", I `
` knew it by the colour, and he grew quite white. He read something `
` intently, groaning to himself, "Mein Gott! Mein Gott! So soon! So `
` soon!" I do not think he remembered me at the moment. Just then the `
` whistle blew, and the train moved off. This recalled him to himself, `
` and he leaned out of the window and waved his hand, calling out, "Love `
` to Madam Mina. I shall write so soon as ever I can." `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 26 September.--Truly there is no such thing as finality. Not a week `
` since I said "Finis," and yet here I am starting fresh again, or `
` rather going on with the record. Until this afternoon I had no cause `
` to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to all intents, as `
` sane as he ever was. He was already well ahead with his fly business, `
` and he had just started in the spider line also, so he had not been of `
` any trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur, written on Sunday, and `
` from it I gather that he is bearing up wonderfully well. Quincey `
` Morris is with him, and that is much of a help, for he himself is a `
` bubbling well of good spirits. Quincey wrote me a line too, and from `
` him I hear that Arthur is beginning to recover something of his old `
` buoyancy, so as to them all my mind is at rest. As for myself, I was `
` settling down to my work with the enthusiasm which I used to have for `
` it, so that I might fairly have said that the wound which poor Lucy `
` left on me was becoming cicatrised. `
` `
` Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is to be the end God `
` only knows. I have an idea that Van Helsing thinks he knows, too, but `
` he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity. He went to `
` Exeter yesterday, and stayed there all night. Today he came back, and `
` almost bounded into the room at about half-past five o'clock, and `
` thrust last night's "Westminster Gazette" into my hand. `
` `
` "What do you think of that?" he asked as he stood back and folded his `
` arms. `
` `
` I looked over the paper, for I really did not know what he meant, but `
` he took it from me and pointed out a paragraph about children being `
` decoyed away at Hampstead. It did not convey much to me, until I `
` reached a passage where it described small puncture wounds on their `
` throats. An idea struck me, and I looked up. `
` `
` "Well?" he said. `
` `
` "It is like poor Lucy's." `
`
` "Jonathan will be here at half-past eleven, and you must come to lunch `
` with us and see him then. You could catch the quick 3:34 train, which `
` will leave you at Paddington before eight." He was surprised at my `
` knowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not know that I have made `
` up all the trains to and from Exeter, so that I may help Jonathan in `
` case he is in a hurry. `
` `
` So he took the papers with him and went away, and I sit here thinking, `
` thinking I don't know what. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` LETTER (by hand), VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER `
` `
` 25 September, 6 o'clock `
` `
` "Dear Madam Mina, `
` `
` "I have read your husband's so wonderful diary. You may `
` sleep without doubt. Strange and terrible as it is, it is `
` true! I will pledge my life on it. It may be worse for `
` others, but for him and you there is no dread. He is a `
` noble fellow, and let me tell you from experience of men, `
` that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and `
` to that room, aye, and going a second time, is not one to `
` be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his `
` heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seen `
` him, so be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of other `
` things. I am blessed that today I come to see you, for I `
` have learn all at once so much that again I am dazzled, `
` dazzled more than ever, and I must think. `
` `
` "Yours the most faithful, `
` `
` "Abraham Van Helsing." `
` `
` `
` LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING `
` `
` 25 September, 6:30 P.M. `
` `
` "My dear Dr. Van Helsing, `
` `
` "A thousand thanks for your kind letter, which has taken a `
` great weight off my mind. And yet, if it be true, what `
` terrible things there are in the world, and what an awful `
` thing if that man, that monster, be really in London! I `
` fear to think. I have this moment, whilst writing, had a `
` wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by the 6:25 tonight `
` from Launceston and will be here at 10:18, so that I shall have `
` no fear tonight. Will you, therefore, instead of lunching with `
` us, please come to breakfast at eight o'clock, if this be not too `
` early for you? You can get away, if you are in a hurry, by the `
` 10:30 train, which will bring you to Paddington by 2:35. Do not `
` answer this, as I shall take it that, if I do not hear, you will `
` come to breakfast. `
` `
` "Believe me, `
` `
` "Your faithful and grateful friend, `
` `
` "Mina Harker." `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL `
` `
` 26 September.--I thought never to write in this diary again, but the `
` time has come. When I got home last night Mina had supper ready, and `
` when we had supped she told me of Van Helsing's visit, and of her `
` having given him the two diaries copied out, and of how anxious she `
` has been about me. She showed me in the doctor's letter that all I `
` wrote down was true. It seems to have made a new man of me. It was `
` the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that knocked me over. `
` I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I `
` know, I am not afraid, even of the Count. He has succeeded after all, `
` then, in his design in getting to London, and it was he I saw. He has `
` got younger, and how? Van Helsing is the man to unmask him and hunt `
` him out, if he is anything like what Mina says. We sat late, and `
` talked it over. Mina is dressing, and I shall call at the hotel in a `
` few minutes and bring him over. `
` `
` `
` He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I came into the room where `
` he was, and introduced myself, he took me by the shoulder, and turned `
` my face round to the light, and said, after a sharp scrutiny, `
` `
` "But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you had had a shock." `
` `
` It was so funny to hear my wife called 'Madam Mina' by this kindly, `
` strong-faced old man. I smiled, and said, "I was ill, I have had a `
` shock, but you have cured me already." `
` `
` "And how?" `
` `
` "By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and then `
` everything took a hue of unreality, and I did not know what to trust, `
` even the evidence of my own senses. Not knowing what to trust, I did `
` not know what to do, and so had only to keep on working in what had `
` hitherto been the groove of my life. The groove ceased to avail me, `
` and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt `
` everything, even yourself. No, you don't, you couldn't with eyebrows `
` like yours." `
` `
` He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said, "So! You are a `
` physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour. I am with so much `
` pleasure coming to you to breakfast, and, oh, sir, you will pardon `
` praise from an old man, but you are blessed in your wife." `
` `
` I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, so I simply `
` nodded and stood silent. `
` `
` "She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men `
` and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that `
` its light can be here on earth. So true, so sweet, so noble, so `
` little an egoist, and that, let me tell you, is much in this age, so `
` sceptical and selfish. And you, sir . . . I have read all the letters `
` to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know you since `
` some days from the knowing of others, but I have seen your true self `
` since last night. You will give me your hand, will you not? And let `
` us be friends for all our lives." `
` `
` We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made me `
` quite choky. `
` `
` "And now," he said, "may I ask you for some more help? I have a great `
` task to do, and at the beginning it is to know. You can help me `
` here. Can you tell me what went before your going to Transylvania? `
` Later on I may ask more help, and of a different kind, but at first `
` this will do." `
` `
` "Look here, Sir," I said, "does what you have to do concern the `
` Count?" `
` `
` "It does," he said solemnly. `
` `
` "Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go by the 10:30 train, you `
` will not have time to read them, but I shall get the bundle of papers. `
` You can take them with you and read them in the train." `
` `
` After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we were parting he `
` said, "Perhaps you will come to town if I send for you, and take Madam `
` Mina too." `
` `
` "We shall both come when you will," I said. `
` `
` I had got him the morning papers and the London papers of the previous `
` night, and while we were talking at the carriage window, waiting for `
` the train to start, he was turning them over. His eyes suddenly `
` seemed to catch something in one of them, "The Westminster Gazette", I `
` knew it by the colour, and he grew quite white. He read something `
` intently, groaning to himself, "Mein Gott! Mein Gott! So soon! So `
` soon!" I do not think he remembered me at the moment. Just then the `
` whistle blew, and the train moved off. This recalled him to himself, `
` and he leaned out of the window and waved his hand, calling out, "Love `
` to Madam Mina. I shall write so soon as ever I can." `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 26 September.--Truly there is no such thing as finality. Not a week `
` since I said "Finis," and yet here I am starting fresh again, or `
` rather going on with the record. Until this afternoon I had no cause `
` to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to all intents, as `
` sane as he ever was. He was already well ahead with his fly business, `
` and he had just started in the spider line also, so he had not been of `
` any trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur, written on Sunday, and `
` from it I gather that he is bearing up wonderfully well. Quincey `
` Morris is with him, and that is much of a help, for he himself is a `
` bubbling well of good spirits. Quincey wrote me a line too, and from `
` him I hear that Arthur is beginning to recover something of his old `
` buoyancy, so as to them all my mind is at rest. As for myself, I was `
` settling down to my work with the enthusiasm which I used to have for `
` it, so that I might fairly have said that the wound which poor Lucy `
` left on me was becoming cicatrised. `
` `
` Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is to be the end God `
` only knows. I have an idea that Van Helsing thinks he knows, too, but `
` he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity. He went to `
` Exeter yesterday, and stayed there all night. Today he came back, and `
` almost bounded into the room at about half-past five o'clock, and `
` thrust last night's "Westminster Gazette" into my hand. `
` `
` "What do you think of that?" he asked as he stood back and folded his `
` arms. `
` `
` I looked over the paper, for I really did not know what he meant, but `
` he took it from me and pointed out a paragraph about children being `
` decoyed away at Hampstead. It did not convey much to me, until I `
` reached a passage where it described small puncture wounds on their `
` throats. An idea struck me, and I looked up. `
` `
` "Well?" he said. `
` `
` "It is like poor Lucy's." `
`