Dracula

JONATHAN BARKER’S JOURNAL continued

5 May. I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been

fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remark-

able place. In the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable

size, and as several dark ways led from it under great round

arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not yet

been able to see it by daylight.

When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held

out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice

his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel

vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he

took out my traps, and placed them on the ground beside me as

I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron

nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could

see even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved,

but that the carving had been much worn by time and weather.

As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat ’and shook the

reins; the horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared

.down one of the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, fc~ I did not know what to do.

Of bell or knocker there was no sign; through these frowning

walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice

could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt

doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I

come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim ad-

venture was it on which I had embarked? Was this a customary

incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the

purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk!

Mina would not like that. Solicitor for just before leaving Lon-

don I got word that my examination was successful; and I am

now a full-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch

myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible night-

mare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and

14

Jonathan Marker’s Journal 15

find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the

windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after

a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test,

and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and

among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient,

and to wait the coming of the morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step

approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks

the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling

chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was

turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great

door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white

moustache, and clad in black from head to. oot, without a single

speck of colour about him anywhere. He ’held in his hand an

antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without chimney

or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it

flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned

me in with his right hand vith a courtly gesture, saying in excel-

lent English, but with a. strange intonation:

«Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!»*

He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a

statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.

The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold,

he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped

mine with a strength which made me wince,.an effect which was

not lessened by the fact. that it seemed as cold as ice more like

the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:

«Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave

something of the happiness you bring!» The strength of the

handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the

driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted

if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking; so to

make sure, I said interrogatively:

«Count Dracula? "He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:

«I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my

house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat

and rest.» As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on

the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage; he had carried it in

before I could forestall him. I protested but he insisted:

«Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not

available. Let me see to your comfort myself.» He insisted on

carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great wind-

16 Dracula

ing stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor

our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy

door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table

was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire

of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door,

and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a

small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly with-

out a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened an-

other door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight;

for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with

another log fire, also added to but lately, for the top logs were

fresh which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count

himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he

closed the door:

«You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by

making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you

are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your

supper prepared.»

The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous welcome

seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then

reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished

with hunger; so making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one

side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made

a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:

«I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I

trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already,

and I do not sup.»

I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had en-

trusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a

charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it.

at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.

«I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady 1

am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my

part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a

sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confi-

dence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own

way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent,

and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to

attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your

instructions in all matters.»

The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a

Jonathan Harker’s Journal 17

dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This,

with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which

I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating

it the Count asked me many questions as to my journey, and I

told him by degrees all I had experienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s de-

sire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigaf

which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he

did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and

found him of a very marked physiognomy.

His face was a strong a very strong aquiline, with high

Bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty

domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples

but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost

meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl

in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under

the heavy-jnDJUs^Ux^'^aj.^ecr’and ratheTTriiel-looking, with

peculiarly sharp ~^bffiL&&pEKese protnifer"over the lips,

whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a

man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops

extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the

cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraor-

dinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on

his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and

fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice

that they were rather coarse broad, with squat fingers. Strange

to say, there were hairs in the centre of the pahn. The nails were

long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over

me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder.

It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling

of nausea came o\ er me, which, do what I would, I could not con-

ceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a

grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his

protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of

the fireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked

towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming

dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as

I listened I heard as if fr^m down below in the valley the howling

of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said:

«Listen to them the children of the night. What music they

make!» Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange

to him. he added:

i8 Dracula

«Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings

of the hunter.» Then he rose and said:

«But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-

morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away

till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!» With a cour-

teous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the octagonal

room, and I entered my bedroom….

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange

things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me,

if only for the sake of those dear to me!

f

7 May. It is again early morning, but I have rested and en-

joyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day,

and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went

into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast

laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the

heartK. There was a card on the table, on which was written :

«I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me. D.»

I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked

for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished;

but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in

the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth

which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beauti-

fully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains

and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my

bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must

have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are

centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like

them in Hampton Court, but there they were worn and frayed

and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror.

There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the

little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or

brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard

a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time

after I had finished my meal I do not know whether to call it

breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six 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

it locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of

Jonathan Marker’s Journal 19

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 cus-

toms and manners. There were even such books of reference as

the London Directory, the «Red» and «Blue» books, Whit-

aker’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 tr^p

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 thor-

oughly!» 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