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The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised `
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with a series of events which seem to run on lines parallel `
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to those of what was known to the writers of headlines as `
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"The Kensington Horror," or "The Stabbing Woman," or "The `
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Woman in Black." During the past two or three days several `
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cases have occurred of young children straying from home or `
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neglecting to return from their playing on the Heath. In `
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all these cases the children were too young to give any `
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properly intelligible account of themselves, but the `
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consensus of their excuses is that they had been with a `
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"bloofer lady." It has always been late in the evening when `
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they have been missed, and on two occasions the children `
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have not been found until early in the following morning. `
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It is generally supposed in the neighborhood that, as the `
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first child missed gave as his reason for being away that a `
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"bloofer lady" had asked him to come for a walk, the others `
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had picked up the phrase and used it as occasion served. This `
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is the more natural as the favourite game of the little ones `
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at present is luring each other away by wiles. A correspondent `
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writes us that to see some of the tiny tots pretending to be the `
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"bloofer lady" is supremely funny. Some of our caricaturists `
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might, he says, take a lesson in the irony of grotesque by `
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comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in accordance `
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with general principles of human nature that the "bloofer lady" `
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should be the popular role at these al fresco performances. Our `
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correspondent naively says that even Ellen Terry could not be so `
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winningly attractive as some of these grubby-faced little `
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children pretend, and even imagine themselves, to be. `
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There is, however, possibly a serious side to the question, `
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for some of the children, indeed all who have been missed `
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at night, have been slightly torn or wounded in the throat. `
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The wounds seem such as might be made by a rat or a small `
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dog, and although of not much importance individually, would tend `
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to show that whatever animal inflicts them has a system or method `
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of its own. The police of the division have been instructed to `
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keep a sharp lookout for straying children, especially when very `
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young, in and around Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog which `
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may be about. `
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THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER EXTRA SPECIAL `
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THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR `
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ANOTHER CHILD INJURED `
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THE "BLOOFER LADY" `
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We have just received intelligence that another child, `
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missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning `
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under a furze bush at the Shooter's Hill side of Hampstead `
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Heath, which is perhaps, less frequented than the other `
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parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat as has `
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been noticed in other cases. It was terribly weak, and `
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looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially restored, `
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had the common story to tell of being lured away by the `
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"bloofer lady". `
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CHAPTER 14 `
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MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL `
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23 September.--Jonathan is better after a bad night. I am so glad `
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that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps his mind off the `
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terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that he is not now weighed down `
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with the responsibility of his new position. I knew he would be true `
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to himself, and now how proud I am to see my Jonathan rising to the `
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height of his advancement and keeping pace in all ways with the duties `
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that come upon him. He will be away all day till late, for he said he `
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could not lunch at home. My household work is done, so I shall take `
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his foreign journal, and lock myself up in my room and read it. `
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24 September.--I hadn't the heart to write last night, that terrible `
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record of Jonathan's upset me so. Poor dear! How he must have `
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suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if there `
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is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and then write `
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all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it all? I suppose `
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I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject to him. And yet `
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that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain of him, poor `
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fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and sent his mind back `
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on some train of thought. `
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He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding day he said `
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"Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, `
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asleep or awake, mad or sane . . ." There seems to be through it all `
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some thread of continuity. That fearful Count was coming to London. `
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If it should be, and he came to London, with its teeming millions . . . `
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There may be a solemn duty, and if it come we must not shrink from `
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it. I shall be prepared. I shall get my typewriter this very hour `
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and begin transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if `
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required. And if it be wanted, then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor `
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Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him and never let him `
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be troubled or worried with it at all. If ever Jonathan quite gets `
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over the nervousness he may want to tell me of it all, and I can ask `
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him questions and find out things, and see how I may comfort him. `
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LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER `
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24 September `
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(Confidence) `
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"Dear Madam, `
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"I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far `
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friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy `
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Westenra's death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming, I am `
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empowered to read her letters and papers, for I am deeply `
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concerned about certain matters vitally important. In them `
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I find some letters from you, which show how great friends `
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you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam Mina, by that `
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love, I implore you, help me. It is for others' good that `
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I ask, to redress great wrong, and to lift much and terrible `
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troubles, that may be more great than you can know. May it be `
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that I see you? You can trust me. I am friend of Dr. John `
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Seward and of Lord Godalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I `
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must keep it private for the present from all. I should come to `
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Exeter to see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, `
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and where and when. I implore your pardon, Madam. I have read `
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your letters to poor Lucy, and know how good you are and how your `
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husband suffer. So I pray you, if it may be, enlighten him not, `
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least it may harm. Again your pardon, and forgive me. `
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"VAN HELSING" `
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TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING `
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25 September.--Come today by quarter past ten train if you `
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can catch it. Can see you any time you call. `
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"WILHELMINA HARKER" `
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MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL `
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25 September.--I cannot help feeling terribly excited as the time `
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draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing, for somehow I expect that `
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it will throw some light upon Jonathan's sad experience, and as he `
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attended poor dear Lucy in her last illness, he can tell me all about `
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her. That is the reason of his coming. It is concerning Lucy and her `
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sleep-walking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall never know the `
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real truth now! How silly I am. That awful journal gets hold of my `
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imagination and tinges everything with something of its own colour. Of `
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course it is about Lucy. That habit came back to the poor dear, and `
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that awful night on the cliff must have made her ill. I had almost `
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forgotten in my own affairs how ill she was afterwards. She must have `
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told him of her sleep-walking adventure on the cliff, and that I knew `
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all about it, and now he wants me to tell him what I know, so that he `
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may understand. I hope I did right in not saying anything of it to `
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Mrs. Westenra. I should never forgive myself if any act of mine, were `
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it even a negative one, brought harm on poor dear Lucy. I hope too, `
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Dr. Van Helsing will not blame me. I have had so much trouble and `
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anxiety of late that I feel I cannot bear more just at present. `
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I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the air as other `
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rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal yesterday that upset `
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me, and then Jonathan went away this morning to stay away from me a `
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whole day and night, the first time we have been parted since our `
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marriage. I do hope the dear fellow will take care of himself, and `
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that nothing will occur to upset him. It is two o'clock, and the `
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doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing of Jonathan's `
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journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have typewritten out my own `
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journal, so that, in case he asks about Lucy, I can hand it to him. `
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It will save much questioning. `
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Later.--He has come and gone. Oh, what a strange meeting, and how it `
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all makes my head whirl round. I feel like one in a dream. Can it be `
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all possible, or even a part of it? If I had not read Jonathan's `
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journal first, I should never have accepted even a possibility. Poor, `
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poor, dear Jonathan! How he must have suffered. Please the good God, `
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all this may not upset him again. I shall try to save him from it. `
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But it may be even a consolation and a help to him, terrible though it `
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be and awful in its consequences, to know for certain that his eyes `
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and ears and brain did not deceive him, and that it is all true. It `
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may be that it is the doubt which haunts him, that when the doubt is `
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removed, no matter which, waking or dreaming, may prove the truth, he `
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will be more satisfied and better able to bear the shock. Dr. Van `
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Helsing must be a good man as well as a clever one if he is Arthur's `
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friend and Dr. Seward's, and if they brought him all the way from `
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Holland to look after Lucy. I feel from having seen him that he is `
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good and kind and of a noble nature. When he comes tomorrow I shall `
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ask him about Jonathan. And then, please God, all this sorrow and `
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anxiety may lead to a good end. I used to think I would like to `
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practice interviewing. Jonathan's friend on "The Exeter News" told `
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him that memory is everything in such work, that you must be able to `
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