_Letter, Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London, to Messrs. Billington &Son, Whitby_
"_21 August._
"Dear Sirs,--
"We beg to acknowledge L10 received and to return cheque L1 17_s._9_d._, amount of overplus, as shown in receipted account herewith. Goodsare delivered in exact accordance with instructions, and keys left inparcel in main hall, as directed.
"We are, dear Sirs, "Yours respectfully, "_Pro_ /Carter, Paterson & Co./"
/Mina Murray's Journal./
_18 August._--I am happy to-day, and write sitting on the seat in thechurchyard. Lucy is ever so much better. Last night she slept well allnight, and did not disturb me once. The roses seem coming back alreadyto her cheeks, though she is still sadly pale and wan-looking. If shewere in any way anaemic I could understand it, but she is not. She is ingay spirits and full of life and cheerfulness. All the morbid reticenceseems to have passed from her, and she has just reminded me, as if Ineeded any reminding, of _that_ night, and that it was here, on thisvery seat, I found her asleep. As she told me she tapped playfully withthe heel of her boot on the stone slab and said:--
"My poor little feet didn't make much noise then! I daresay poor old Mr.Swales would have told me that it was because I didn't want to wake upGeordie." As she was in such a communicative humour, I asked her if shehad dreamed at all that night. Before she answered, that sweet, puckeredlook came into her forehead, which Arthur--I call him Arthur from herhabit--says he loves; and, indeed, I don't wonder that he does. Then shewent on in a half-dreaming kind of way, as if trying to recall it toherself:--
"I didn't quite dream; but it all seemed to be real. I only wanted to behere in this spot--I don't know why, for I was afraid of something--Idon't know what. I remember, though I suppose I was asleep, passingthrough the streets and over the bridge. A fish leaped as I went by,and I leaned over to look at it, and I heard a lot of dogs howling--thewhole town seemed as if it must be full of dogs all howling at once--asI went up the steps. Then I have a vague memory of something long anddark with red eyes, just as we saw in the sunset, and something verysweet and very bitter all around me at once; and then I seemed sinkinginto deep green water, and there was a singing in my ears, as I haveheard there is to drowning men; and then everything seemed passing awayfrom me; my soul seemed to go out from my body and float about the air.I seemed to remember that once the West Lighthouse was right under me,and then there was a sort of agonising feeling, as if I were in anearthquake, and I came back and found you shaking my body. I saw you doit before I felt you."
Then she began to laugh. It seemed a little uncanny to me, and Ilistened to her breathlessly. I did not quite like it, and thought itbetter not to keep her mind on the subject, so we drifted on to othersubjects, and Lucy was like her old self again. When we got home thefresh breeze had braced her up, and her pale cheeks were really morerosy. Her mother rejoiced when she saw her, and we all spent a veryhappy evening together.
_19 August._--Joy, joy, joy! although not all joy. At last, news ofJonathan. The dear fellow has been ill; that is why he did not write.I am not afraid to think it or to say it, now that I know. Mr. Hawkinssent me on the letter, and wrote himself oh, so kindly. I am to leavein the morning and to go over to Jonathan, and to help nurse him ifnecessary, and to bring him home. Mr. Hawkins says it would not be a badthing if we were to be married out there. I have cried over the goodSister's letter till I can feel it wet against my bosom, where it lies.It is of Jonathan, and must be next my heart, for he is _in_ my heart.My journey is all mapped out, and my luggage ready. I am only taking onechange of dress; Lucy will bring my trunk to London and keep it till Isend for it, for it may be that.... I must write no more; I must keep itto say to Jonathan, my husband. The letter that he has seen and touchedmust comfort me till we meet.
_Letter, Sister Agatha, Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary,Buda-Pesth, to Miss Wilhelmina Murray._
"_12 August._
"Dear Madam,--
"I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker, who is himself not strongenough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. Josephand Ste. Mary. He has been under our care for nearly six weeks,suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey his love,and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Peter Hawkins,Exeter, to say, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorry for hisdelay, and that all his work is completed. He will require some fewweeks' rest in our sanatorium in the hills, but will then return. Hewishes me to say that he has not sufficient money with him, and that hewould like to pay for his staying here, so that others who need shallnot be wanting for help.
"Believe me, "Yours, with sympathy and all blessings, "/Sister Agatha./
"P.S.--My patient being asleep, I open this to let you know somethingmore. He has told me all about you, and that you are shortly to be hiswife. All blessings to you both! He has had some fearful shock--so saysour doctor--and in his delirium his ravings have been dreadful; ofwolves and poison and blood; of ghosts and demons; and I fear to say ofwhat. Be careful with him always that there may be nothing to excitehim of this kind for a long time to come; the traces of such an illnessas his do not lightly die away. We should have written long ago, but weknew nothing of his friends, and there was on him nothing that any onecould understand. He came in the train from Klausenburgh, and the guardwas told by the station-master there that he rushed into the stationshouting for a ticket for home. Seeing from his violent demeanour thathe was English, they gave him a ticket for the farthest station on theway thither that the train reached.
"Be assured that he is well cared for. He has won all hearts by hissweetness and gentleness. He is truly getting on well, and I have nodoubt will in a few weeks be all himself. But be careful of him forsafety's sake. There are, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, many,many happy years for you both."
_Dr. Seward's Diary._
_19 August._--Strange and sudden change in Renfield last night. Abouteight o'clock he began to get excited and to sniff about as a dog doeswhen setting. The attendant was struck by his manner, and knowing myinterest in him, encouraged him to talk. He is usually respectful tothe attendant, and at times servile; but to-night, the man tells me, hewas quite haughty. Would not condescend to talk with him at all. All hewould
say was:--
"I don't want to talk to you: you don't count now; the Master is athand."
The attendant thinks it is some sudden form of religious mania whichhas seized him. If so, we must look out for squalls, for a strong manwith homicidal and religious mania at once might be dangerous. Thecombination is a dreadful one. At nine o'clock I visited him myself. Hisattitude to me was the same as that to the attendant; in his sublimeself-feeling the difference between myself and attendant seemed to himas nothing. It looks like religious mania, and he will soon think thathe himself is God. These infinitesimal distinctions between man and manare too paltry for an Omnipotent being. How these madmen give themselvesaway! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall; but the God createdfrom human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh,if men only knew!
For half an hour or more Renfield kept getting excited in greater andgreater degree. I did not pretend to be watching him, but I kept strictobservation all the same. All at once that shifty look came into hiseyes which we always see when a madman has seized an idea, and with itthe shifty movement of the head and back which asylum attendants come toknow so well. He became quite quiet, and went and sat on the edge of hisbed resignedly, and looked into space with lack-lustre eyes. I thoughtI would find out if his apathy were real or only assumed, and tried tolead him to talk of his pets, a theme which never failed to excite hisattention. At first he made no reply, but at length said testily:--
"Bother them all! I don't care a pin about them."
"What?" I said. "You don't mean to tell me that you don't care aboutspiders?" (Spiders at present are his hobby, and the note-book isfilling up with columns of small figures.) To this he answeredenigmatically:--
"The bride-maidens rejoice the eyes that wait the coming of the bride;but when the bride draweth nigh, then the maidens shine not to the eyesthat are filled."
He would not explain himself, but remained obstinately seated on his bedall the time I remained with him.
I am weary to-night and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, andhow different things might have been. If I don't sleep at once, chloral,the modern Morpheus--C_{2}HCl_{3}O.H_{2}O! I must be careful not to letit grow into a habit. No, I shall take none to-night! I have thoughtof Lucy, and I shall not dishonour her by mixing the two. If need be,to-night shall be sleepless....
Glad I made the resolution; gladder that I kept to it. I had laintossing about, and had heard the clock strike only twice, when thenight-watchman came to me, sent up from the ward, to say that Renfieldhad escaped. I threw on my clothes and ran down at once; my patient istoo dangerous a person to be roaming about. Those ideas of his mightwork out dangerously with strangers. The attendant was waiting for me.He said he had seen him not ten minutes before, seemingly asleep in hisbed, when he had looked through the observation-trap in the door. Hisattention was called by the sound of the window being wrenched out. Heran back and saw his feet disappear through the window, and had at oncesent up for me. He was only in his night-gear, and cannot be far off.The attendant thought it would be more useful to watch where he shouldgo than to follow him, as he might lose sight of him whilst gettingout of the building by the door. He is a bulky man, and couldn't getthrough the window. I am thin, so, with his aid, I got out, but feetforemost, and, as we were only a few feet above ground, landed unhurt.The attendant told me the patient had gone to the left and had taken astraight line, so I ran as quickly as I could. As I got through the beltof trees I saw a white figure scale the high wall which separates ourgrounds from those of the deserted house.