_Later: the Morning of 16 May._--God preserve my sanity, for to this Iam reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past.Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for: that I maynot go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surelyit is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in thishateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him aloneI can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve hispurpose. Great God! merciful God! Let me be calm, for out of that waylies madness indeed. I begin to get new lights on certain things whichhave puzzled me. Up to now I never quite knew what Shakespeare meantwhen he made Hamlet say:--
"My tablets! quick, my tablets! 'Tis meet that I put it down," etc.,
for now, feeling as though my own brain was unhinged or as if the shockhad come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose.The habit of entering accurately must help to soothe me.
The Count's mysterious warning frightened me at the time; it frightensme more now when I think of it, for in future he has a fearful holdupon me. I shall fear to doubt what he may say!
When I had written in my diary and had fortunately replaced the bookand pen in my pocket, I felt sleepy. The Count's warning came into mymind, but I took a pleasure in disobeying it. The sense of sleep wasupon me, and with it the obstinacy which sleep brings as outrider. Thesoft moonlight soothed, and the wide expanse without gave a sense offreedom which refreshed me. I determined not to return to-night to thegloom-haunted rooms, but to sleep here, where of old ladies had sat andsung and lived sweet lives whilst their gentle breasts were sad fortheir menfolk away in the midst of remorseless wars. I drew a greatcouch out of its place near the corner, so that, as I lay, I could lookat the lovely view to east and south, and unthinking of and uncaringfor the dust, composed myself for sleep.
I suppose I must have fallen asleep; I hope so, but I fear, for allthat followed was startlingly real--so real that now, sitting here inthe broad, full sunlight of the morning, I cannot in the least believethat it was all sleep.
I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged in any way since Icame into it; I could see along the floor, in the brilliant moonlight,my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the long accumulation ofdust. In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies bytheir dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreamingwhen I saw them, for, though the moonlight was behind them, they threwno shadow on the floor. They came close to me and looked at me for sometime and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquilinenoses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed tobe almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other wasfair, as fair as can be, with great, wavy masses of golden hair andeyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and toknow it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollectat the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth, thatshone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There wassomething about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the sametime some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire thatthey would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note thisdown, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain;but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all threelaughed--such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the soundnever could have come through the softness of human lips. It was likethe intolerable, tingling sweetness of water-glasses when played onby a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head coquettishly, and theother two urged her on. One said:--
"Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right tobegin." The other added:--
"He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all." I lay quiet,looking out under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation.The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movementof her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sentthe same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitterunderlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.
I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectlyunder the lashes. The fair girl went on her knees and bent over me,fairly gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was boththrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actuallylicked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight themoisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lappedthe white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips wentbelow the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on mythroat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of hertongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and could feel the hot
breathon my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's fleshdoes when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer--nearer. Icould feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the supersensitiveskin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touchingand pausing there. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy andwaited--waited with beating heart.
But at that instant another sensation swept through me as quick aslightning. I was conscious of the presence of the Count, and of hisbeing as if lapped in a storm of fury. As my eyes opened involuntarilyI saw his strong hand grasp the slender neck of the fair woman and withgiant's power draw it back, the blue eyes transformed with fury, thewhite teeth champing with rage, and the fair cheeks blazing red withpassion. But the Count! Never did I imagine such wrath and fury, evenin the demons of the pit. His eyes were positively blazing. The redlight in them was lurid, as if the flames of hell-fire blazed behindthem. His face was deathly pale, and the lines of it were hard likedrawn wires; the thick eyebrows that met over the nose now seemed likea heaving bar of white-hot metal. With a fierce sweep of his arm, hehurled the woman from him, and then motioned to the others, as thoughhe were beating them back; it was the same imperious gesture that Ihad seen used to the wolves. In a voice which, though low and almost awhisper, seemed to cut through the air and then ring round the room, ashe said:--
"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on himwhen I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me!Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." Thefair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:--
"You yourself never loved; you never love!" On this the other womenjoined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through theroom that it almost made me faint to hear; it seemed like the pleasureof fiends. Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively,and said in a soft whisper:--
"Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is itnot so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him, you shallkiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is workto be done."
"Are we to have nothing to-night?" said one of them, with a low laugh,as she pointed to the bag which he had thrown upon the floor, and whichmoved as though there were some living thing within it. For answer henodded his head. One of the women jumped forward and opened it. Ifmy ears did not deceive me there was a gasp and a low wail, as of ahalf-smothered child. The women closed round, whilst I was aghast withhorror; but as I looked they disappeared, and with them the dreadfulbag. There was no door near them, and they could not have passed mewithout my noticing. They simply seemed to fade into the rays of themoonlight and pass out through the window, for I could see outside thedim, shadowy forms for a moment before they entirely faded away.
Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious.
CHAPTER IV.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL--_continued._
I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count musthave carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the subject, butcould not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be sure, there werecertain small evidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laidby in a manner which was not my habit. My watch was still unwound, andI am rigorously accustomed to wind it the last thing before going tobed, and many such details. But these things are no proof, for they mayhave been evidences that my mind was not as usual, and, from some causeor another, I had certainly been much upset. I must watch for proof.Of one thing I am glad: if it was that the Count carried me here andundressed me, he must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets areintact. I am sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which hewould not have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it. As I lookround this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is nowa sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awfulwomen, who were--who _are_--waiting to suck my blood.
_18 May._--I have been down to look at that room again in daylight, forI _must_ know the truth. When I got to the doorway at the top of thestairs, I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven against thejamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could see that thebolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is fastened from theinside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on this surmise.
_19 May._--I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked mein the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my workhere was nearly done and that I should start for home within a fewdays, another that I was starting on the next morning from the timeof the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrivedat Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the presentstate of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Countwhilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be toexcite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I knowtoo much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; myonly chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur whichwill give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of thatgathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman fromhim. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that mywriting now would ensure ease of mind to my friends; and he assuredme with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the laterletters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in casechance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him wouldhave been to create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to fall inwith his views, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters.He calculated a minute, and then said:--
"The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June29."
I know now the span of my life. God help me!
_28 May._--There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being ableto send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle, and areencamped in the courtyard. These Szgany are gipsies; I have notes ofthem in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world, thoughallied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are thousandsof them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost outside all law.They attach themselves as a rule to some great noble or _boyar_, andcall themselves by his name. They are fearless and without religion,save superstition, and they talk only their own varieties of the Romanytongue.
I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have themposted. I have already spoken to them through my window to begin anacquaintanceship. They took their hats off and made obeisance and manysigns, which, however, I could not understand any more than I couldtheir spoken language....
I have written the letters. Mina's is in shorthand, and I simplyask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained mysituation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It wouldshock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her.Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet know mysecret or the extent of my knowledge....
I have given the letters; I threw them through the bars of my windowwith a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them posted.The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed, and thenput them in his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to the study andbegan to read. As the Count did not come in, I have written here....
The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothestvoice as he opened two letters:--
"The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not whence theycome, I shall, of course, take care. See!"--he must have looked atit--"one is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other"--herehe caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, andthe dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly--"theother is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! Itis not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly heldletter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.Then he went on:--