by Tony Evans
I am normally a sound sleeper, but that night I was assailed by strange and unusual imaginings. Twice I awoke, unable to recall the events of my dreams except that they were bizarre and unsettling. On the second occasion the air in my room seemed particularly stifling and oppressive, and on impulse I got out of bed and walked towards the window. The moon was almost full that night, and I did not need the assistance of my candle.
Thus far I had always obeyed my father’s instructions to keep all windows closed at night, but it seemed to me that his precaution was unnecessary in the case of my bedchamber. The window was more than thirty feet above the ground – in happier times I had often leaned out of it to look up at the mountain range which overshadows the monastery – and the stone wall below it was of smooth, close-jointed granite which would defy the climbing abilities of a monkey, let alone a human being. I therefore undid the latch and swung the heavy leaded pain half-open, allowing an influx of cool night air.
It seemed at first that my stratagem had been successful, for afterwards I sank into a deep and dreamless sleep. Alas, my slumber was soon to be interrupted. I awoke to see the figure of a woman standing at my bedside, staring down at me. There was no question of this being yet another dream: her features were clearly illuminated in the pale moonlight, and I swear that she was as real as Mrs Harker now appears to me.
My reaction to her appearance was one of surprise rather than apprehension, and I was very conscious of her striking and unusual beauty: it was not mere prettiness of the sort that many young women possess, but a deeper and more profound aura of attraction. Her hair was midnight black, her face deathly pale and her eyes a piercing red. Without speaking she sat upon the edge of my bed and lent forward across my recumbent body, placing a hand upon each of my shoulders. I sensed that she wished to whisper in my ear, for she lowered her head towards me, and her red lips parted as if to speak.
At that moment I heard a violent fluttering sound from the direction of the window, as if some great bird had become trapped in a confined space, desperate to escape. I sat up suddenly to see the cream-white outline of an enormous owl beating its wings against the outside of the half-closed panes, before it vanished into the night. As it did so the lady who had entered my room leapt back from my bedside, howling with anger. The sound chilled my blood, for her manic shrieks were such that no mortal woman could surely ever make. At the same time the glow of beauty seemed to slip from her face like a mask, to be replaced by an expression of grotesque and inhuman malevolence. As my own screams echoed those of the creature in front of me, I heard the sound of rushing footsteps down the corridor, and my bedroom door was flung open. My father dashed into the room, closely followed by Notary Dimov. Whoever – or whatever – had been with me seemed to slip between them with unnatural agility, and the last thing that remember before falling into unconsciousness was my father holding me tightly in his arms.
*
Mina and I heard out Elena’s account in shocked silence. When she had finished her narrative, we persuaded her to tell us the sequel to her story.
Elena had little more to say. She had woken the next morning to find the housekeeper, Frau Müller, sleeping next to her on a thin straw mattress: she had apparently been there all night, at the request of Prince Bretin. After breakfast Elena was summoned to her father’s study, where he spoke to her alone, explaining that Cezar Dimov had already left early that morning for Bistritz. Bretin explained to his daughter that the woman who had so terrified her on the previous evening had been one of a band of itinerant gypsies, who for some time had been breaking into farms and stealing whatever they could. According to Bretin, the Notary had pursued the woman, but she had succeeded in getting out of the Monastery and grounds, and was now presumably reunited with her fellow brigands. The police were looking for the miscreants, and there was every hope that they would soon be apprehended. Meanwhile, to ensure Elena’s safety her bedroom window was to be secured with iron bars as soon as a blacksmith could be summoned from Urmuz. In addition, the housekeeper would continue to share Elena’s bedroom for the remaining short time before the sale of the Davila Estate was completed. Then once the proceeds had been received, she and her father would leave Transylvania for ever. Elena added that Frau Müller slept very soundly, and that she was unlikely to notice her current absence from her bedroom.
After completing her account Elena turned towards my wife. ‘But you see, Mrs Harker – you must see! – all this is wrong. I have seen gypsy women – the lady that so scared me was not gypsy! And why bar the window, when it is impossible to reach? I have a fear that more trouble will come upon us before we leave Transylvania. What is happening, please? – I must know.’
Mina looked towards me, shaking her head.
‘We will consider what you have told us, and find a way to speak to you in private before we leave tomorrow,’ I said. ‘Now, I have a request to make. Elena, would you be so good as to remove that woollen scarf and allow my wife to examine your throat? It is most necessary, I promise you.’
Elena nodded in agreement, and I watched as Mina laid bare the neck of the frightened Princess. She turned Elena around, so that I too had a full view of the delicate pale skin above her breast. There could be no doubt. The young woman’s flesh was as pure and unblemished as the day she had been born.
Chapter 8
After Elena had left us Mina and I talked long into the early hours about all that the Princess had told us, and what we intended to do with her information. We were both convinced that the woman who had entered Elena’s bedroom two weeks ago was one of the un-dead. It also seemed likely that the faired-haired woman that the Princess had seen months before in the Abbot’s Garden was a similar creature. I remembered very vividly the three demonic women who had so nearly corrupted and destroyed me on my first visit to Dracula’s Castle. Thus far poor Elena had only encountered two of the beings, but if they were the same creatures as those I’d so narrowly escaped, who was to say that the third was not also at large?
Eventually we decided upon our course of action. Tempting though it was to try to remove Elena from her immediate danger, we could not be certain that her father would agree to such a move: after all, he seemed determined to deny the real nature of the threat that faced his daughter. In addition, saving one person – Elena – from a horrible fate was not enough. It was necessary to get to the route of the problem by discovering what power lay behind this resurgence of evil in the province, and by then destroying it. Thus we decided that we would say nothing at present to Prince Bretin, but would contrive to promise his daughter that we would return to Vlados Monastery within the week – either to take her away with us, or tell her and the Prince what we had discovered.
We managed to get some sleep before dawn, then rose again wearily to take our breakfast. Fortunately Elena appeared before her father, and we were able to tell what we had agreed. No sooner had she thanked us than Prince Bretin entered the room.
‘Mrs Harker – Mr Harker – I trust you slept well,’ he said. ‘I am pleased to say that no more snow has fallen, and the groom tells me that your sturdy carriage will cope easily with the path to the edge of the forest. After that, you should have little difficulty in reaching Urmuz. But Mrs Harker – are you in some difficulty?’
His sudden query was prompted by Mina’s sudden move from the breakfast table. She went to the window, turned her back towards us, and took a small mirror from her bag.
‘May I borrow your handkerchief, Jonathan?’ she asked. ‘I believe I have some dust in my eye.’
The Prince and I stood solicitously behind her, but after a moments dabbing she had removed the offending particle, and assured us that all was well.
Soon afterwards we were ready to depart. Prince Bretin insisted on accompanying us to our calèche, and stood at the outer entrance waving his goodbyes as we descended the twisting path from the monastery down to the tree line.
It was with some relief that we discovered that the Prince ha
d been correct when he had predicted that our journey back to Urmuz would be a straightforward one. Once we had cleared the lower slopes of the Carpathian Mountains and entered the forest, very little fresh snow was evident.
‘Tell me, Mina,’ I said. ‘What did you discover about Prince Bretin’s reflection in your hand-mirror?’
Mina chuckled. ‘I did not expect you to notice my subterfuge. However, if what I had seen was cause for any concern, I would have told you the instant we stepped up into the carriage. The mirror showed the Prince’s image as clearly as it did yours.’
‘That at least is reassuring,’ I said. ‘As neither the Prince nor his daughter are infected with this scourge, we may be able keep both of them from further harm. Now, at three o’clock this afternoon I have a further meeting with Cezar Dimov. Advise me, my dear. Do you think that I should tell the young notary what we have discovered? I am conscious that at our meeting the day before yesterday he withheld information from me which could have a great bearing on my client’s wish to buy the Davila Estate.’
‘I think not, Jonathan. I suggest that you wait until we have spoken to Father Filimon on Monday. I have become more and more convinced that the key to this murky business may lie in the cleric’s hands.’
‘Very well. Let us hope that things are not as bad as they appear. I’m afraid that if it becomes necessary to advise Lord Tavistock to withdraw from the purchase, it will not be sufficient to send our courier back with the news. We will have to return directly to England, and postpone our visit to Thessaloniki.’
*
We arrived at Urmuz in time for luncheon, after which I made the journey to Bistritz to see Notary Dimov. The final arrangements for the sale were quickly made, and Dimov promised that he would have four copies of the agreement copied by the following Tuesday, ready for my signature.
‘We can then send two of the copies to your office in England by courier, whilst you and your wife sample the delights of northern Greece,’ Dimov said cheerfully.
I smiled back at him – I do not believe that my powers of dissimulation are quite as limited as Mina believes – and after informing him of my intention to visit the farm of Vaslie Alexandru on Sunday, I took my leave.
*
Next morning, Mina and I were preparing to leave the Kraznevin Inn when an idea struck me. I took out my map of the Davila Estate and held it open.
‘That farm three miles from Alexandru’s is the Polgars’. Would it not be more productive to visit them instead? Lajos Polgar knows something about what’s behind the frightening events that have plagued the Davila Estate for the last two years – it may be that he can be persuaded to talk to us, if we offer to help him.’
My wife looked sceptical. ‘Perhaps – although if Franz is right, he has already paid a heavy price for attempting to report the matter. And there is another problem. We know that Polgar speaks no English, and has very limited German.’
‘True. But don’t forget that according to Franz, the Polgars’ son has now returned to live with them. As Nicolaus Polgar has received a good education, I am sure that he will be more than capable of acting as interlocutor. In fact it might be better if we talk to Nicolaus before we speak to his father. The young man might be more willing to trust in our confidence.’
*
By mid-morning we had reached the farm of Lajos and Maria Polgar. As it was a fine day we had decided to travel on horseback, and the sight of Mina in her corduroy riding britches had caused some consternation as we had ridden out of Urmuz. When she had observed that the New Woman seemed an unknown species in Transylvania I had concurred, adding that it was a great shame that she did not smoke, as a cigarette would have completed the bemusement of the local population.
Whatever the current financial difficulties of Lajos Polgar and his wife, the farmhouse and buildings in front of us seemed neat and prosperous. Although single-storied in the manner of the country, the main dwelling was large and well cared for: it had been freshly painted, and the thatched roof looked in good repair. A plume of grey-white smoke rose from the substantial brick chimney stack at one end of the house, evidently a latter addition to the building. The track that ran past it to a group of outbuildings was muddy and churned by cattle, but the curtilage of the building had been neatly paved with stone flags that had recently been washed clean.
We tethered our horses to a nearby fence-post and walked to the front porch. I already had Prince Bretin’s note in my hand: Mina and I had agreed that we would explain that as we had the whole of Sunday at our disposal, we had decided that we would visit the Polgars’ and the nearby farm of Vaslie Alexandru. This was in fact our intention, in order not to arouse the suspicions of the Prince if he came to hear of our itinerary.
The door was answered by Lajos Polgar and his wife, whom we recognised from the scene we had witnessed on the previous Thursday evening in the tap-room of the Kraznevin Inn. Fortunately they showed no sign of having seen us that night. I introduced us, but it was clear that Lajos’ command of German did not allow him to comprehend that I was “the agent acting for the English Lord who hoped to buy the Davila Estate”.
At that moment a voice called out in greeting from behind us and we turned round to see a young man who must surely be their son, Nicolaus. As I had hoped, his English was excellent, and our explanation for our visit accepted. Maria Polgar insisted that we take some refreshment with the family before inspecting the farm, and Mina and I were ushered into a large and comfortably furnished kitchen which evidently served as the main living area in their house.
While Mina, the two men and I sat round a large deal table, Maria was busy at the vast iron cooking range which almost filled one wall. As the four of us exchanged pleasantries – our comments translated by Nicolaus when necessary – I took the opportunity to observe the father and son together. Both of them had the thick-set physiques, broad physiognomy and swarthy complexions typical of many people of the region, and yet the superior education lately enjoyed by Nicolaus had added an ineffable air of sophistication to his demeanour; whist the father frowned and spoke in guttural tones, looking more at the table top than at his visitors, the son smiled and nodded to us with practiced ease.
I was not altogether surprised when after our ample meal of stuffed cabbage rolls and cornmeal Lajos Polgar suggested that his son accompany us on a tour of the farm: if Franz’s information about the parlous state of the Polgar’s finances was correct, it was understandable that Lajos might wish to avoid any unnecessary conversation with his future landlord’s representative. It would also give Mina and me the opportunity to speak in private to Nicolaus.
*
Two hours later we had completed our circumnavigation of the farm, and Nicolaus – who had joined us on horseback for the survey – said that he had one more thing to show us. This was the new cow byre, built three years ago and evidently of most modern construction. It lay two hundred yards from the farmhouse, and as we approached it we dismounted in order to go inside. Earlier in our inspection both Mina and I had attempted the raise the issue of the Polgar family’s recent troubles, but each time Nicolaus had managed to evade our questions. Now it seemed that a more direct approach was needed.
‘Nicolaus, there is something that I must ask you. Three days ago my wife and I saw your father and mother at the Kraznevin Inn, clearly in some distress. We subsequently discovered the sad history of your family, and indeed heard of other such disturbing incidents in the locality. We are interested in this matter not out of idle curiosity, but because it will surely be a matter of concern for my client, Lord Tavistock. You are clearly an educated young man, and must know something of this business. Are you able to take us into your confidence? I seek only to be of assistance.’
Nicolaus looked round anxiously, although it was obvious that other than the three of us there could be no other person within earshot. The he walked forward a little further, until we were twenty feet or so away from the large double doors of the byre.
> ‘If I speak to you, will you swear to tell no one how you came by this information?’ he asked. The young man’s face was pale and glistened with a sheen of perspiration.
I beckoned Mina to come closer. ‘Yes – I swear. Don’t be afraid. We are perfectly alone here. Even if anyone is observing us, it will seem that we are discussing the business of the farm.’
‘Perhaps. But I must warn you that the instigator of this evil has strange and far-reaching powers. It is possible that even now…’
As Nicolaus’ voice tailed off I gripped his upper arm. ‘What’s the name of this person?’ I said urgently.
The young man appeared not to hear my question. He stood still, his head tilted to one side as if trying to detect the faintest of sounds.
‘Listen!’ he said. ‘Can you hear it?’
‘Yes!’ said Mina. ‘Surely that noise is coming from the cow byre?’
Then my ears too detected a low rumbling or lowing, and the movement of large bodies in their stalls. It was the cattle, and it seemed that something had disturbed them.
The events of the next few seconds are vividly imprinted on my memory. The noise of restless cattle grew much louder, and suddenly the wooden doors of the byre burst open, planks of wood flying off at all angles as the heavy beasts flung themselves through the opening into the outside air and towards us at a frightening pace. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed the stump of a large oak tree a few feet to our left. Instinctively I caught Mina by the arm and pulled us both down behind it, crouching as low as possible.
