"You may kiss her now."
14
Two days had passed since the heavy coal hammer gripped in Arthur Holmwood's strong right hand had driven the sharp stake through Lucy Westenra's heart, and the surgeon's knife had simultaneously severed the young woman's head from her body.
Today Professor Van Helsing was holding a slightly different knife, though one of approximately the same size. His skilled surgeon's hands were slicing and serving a roast of beef as he entertained two new acquaintances in a private dining room of the grill of the Berkeley Hotel, his residence while in London.
The newlywed Harkers, both Mina and Jonathan, were Van Helsing's guests at this dinner. By now Van Helsing had had the opportunity to read both Harker's journal record of his ill-fated journey to Eastern Europe, and Mina's diary covering the same period of time. In fact both of these volumes now lay on the cloth-covered dining table; the professor had already asked their authors many questions about the contents of these books, and he had several more to ask.
At the moment Van Helsing, between forkfuls of the excellent dinner, was commenting on what he had learned from these records.
"An incredible story, of course, Mr. Harker." A pause to chew and swallow. "But terrible as it is, I have no doubt that your journal is true—I will pledge my life on it. Come, eat! Eat. Another potato? Celebrate your discovery."
Chewing, the professor turned his gaze, twinkling with the joys of food and of discovery, upon his other companion.
"And your dear Madam Mina, who insist I read her diary as well! Ah, she gives me hope there are good women still left to make life happy. Dear Mina, you have a brain that a man should have, were he much gifted, and a woman's heart."
Mina was toying with her food, her heart torn with a raging conflict about which she dared not speak. She did her best to smile at the intended compliment.
Van Helsing chuckled, then paused to lick half-consciously from his fingers a taste of red meat juice from the rare roast; only belatedly did he remember to use his napkin.
His bright eyes probed at Jonathan. "There is a question which I, as a doctor, must ask you."
"Ask it, then."
"In your infidelity with those three demonic women, did you for one instant taste of their blood?"
Harker, startled, dropped his eyes. But without hesitation he shook his head briefly and violently. "No."
Van Helsing relaxed noticeably. "Then your blood is not infected with the disease that destroyed poor Lucy."
The news seemed to relieve Harker of a tremendous weight. In a moment he appeared almost a new man. Reaching for his cane, he started to get to his feet, then sat down again, leaning forward to enter into earnest discussion.
"Doctor, are you sure?"
Van Helsing nodded emphatically. "I would not say so otherwise."
Harker's fist hit the table, rattling the cutlery. "Then thank God! I have doubted everything, even myself—especially myself. I was impotent with fear. You have cured me."
The professor, muttering something soothing, nodded with satisfaction. Then his eyes under their thick sandy brows turned once more to Mina. "And you, my dear madam, are you cured as well?"
She tried to conceal the fact that the question made her acutely uncomfortable. "Cured of what, Doctor?"
Van Helsing's voice was low and calm. He refrained from making any accusations. "Of whatever happened in those pages so carefully cut out of your diary."
Mina stared at the old man defiantly; her husband, still reveling in his relief regarding his own condition, did not appear to have heard the question or grasped its implications.
The young woman remained silent, and for a moment Van Helsing appeared ready to let the matter pass. Then, producing an old gold coin seemingly from nowhere, in the manner of a conjurer, he tossed it on the white tablecloth directly in front of Mina.
When she raised her eyes from the yellow metal to stare at him, the professor calmly informed her: "Your husband has given me this. He found it, and others like it—there."
The coin, lying among grease spots and crumbs on the white linen, had come up heads, and the young woman seemed unable to tear her gaze from the fierce profile of the youthful ruler on its face. In fact she found it horribly, unacceptably, recognizable.
Van Helsing, observing her reactions closely, remarked: "The ancient Prince Dracul himself. He died four hundred years ago—but his body was never found."
Mina was startled from her renewed contemplation of the coin when Van Helsing slapped a piece of meat on her plate, a slice so rare in the center as to be still bloody.
The professor's eyes bored into hers, evidently seeking to discover something. He urged her: "You eat like a bird. Eat. Feast! You will need your strength for the dark days ahead."
Mina looked at her husband. Jonathan had commenced eating heartily now, and seemed stronger than he had been since their reunion in Budapest, much renewed by the good news about his own blood. Meeting his wife's gaze, he smiled and extended his hand, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation she took it.
Still gripping Jonathan's hand, she turned to ask Van Helsing: "Tell me, Doctor, how did Lucy die? I mean—I want to know what happened in the crypt, days after her death certificate was signed.
"I now know the terrible fact—Dr. Seward has told me something—but none of the details. She was my dearest friend, and yet no one has told me. Was she in great pain?"
Van Helsing was deliberately harsh. "]a, I would say so, at first. But after we cut off her head and drive a stake through her heart, she is at peace."
Mina gasped.
It was the first time Harker had heard the horrifying details of Lucy's release. He half rose from his chair, and his voice quavered as he intervened. "That's quite enough, Doctor."
The old man looked at him with sympathy, and his expression softened a trifle. "Enough, perhaps, for the moment. Now you, both of you, must understand why we must find this dark prince and do the same for him. And perhaps you see why there is little time."
Harker slumped back into his chair. His face and voice had hardened. "Fortunately I know where the bastard must be sleeping. In one of the very London properties I helped him to purchase—probably Carfax. "
"Ja, so I discover from your journal. At Carfax the black devil is Jack Seward's neighbor!"
Pushing dishes, wineglasses, and bottles all aside, reaching impulsively across the table, Van Helsing brought all their hands together, forming a three-way bond.
He said: "We must find your undead count, cut off his head, and stake his heart so that the world may rest from him."
Mina turned pale but said nothing. Van Helsing noted this reaction, though her husband failed to do so.
The handshake concluded, Harker with renewed energy brought out some documents.
He said: "We know that exactly fifty boxes of earth were unloaded from the Demeter, and I have already traced some of them to the nine additional properties Count Dracula has acquired in other parts of London. We—or someone—must visit those houses, and make sure the boxes in them are destroyed."
The professor, groping in his pockets for his cigar case, nodded his head. "Dear Quincey, Jack, and Arthur still stand with us. It shall be done."
"But the greater number of those boxes, more than thirty, went to Carfax. I assume they are still there."
Van Helsing nodded again. "And for that reason must we go there. As soon as possible… By the way, a story of some interest is in the evening paper."
THE PALL MALL GAZETTE, 3 OCTOBER
THE ESCAPED WOLF
PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER
Interview with the Keeper in the Zoological Gardens
… After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, I managed to find the keeper of the wolf department. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the cottages in the enclosure behind the elephant house, and was just sitting down to tea when I found him…
when the table was cleared, and he had lit his p
ipe, he said: "Now, sir, you can go and ask me what you want. I know what yer a-comin' at, that 'ere escaped wolf."
"Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. What you consider was the cause, and how the whole affair will end. Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape of the wolf?"
"All right, guv'nor. I think I can; but I don't know as 'ow you'd be satisfied with the theory."
"Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals, can't hazard a good guess, who is even to try?"
"Well then, sir, I accounts for it this way; it seems to me that wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out."
From the hearty way both Thomas and his wife laughed at the joke I could see that it had done service before…
I was handing him the agreed-upon half-sovereign when something came bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder's face doubled its natural length with surprise.
"God bless me!" he said. "If there ain't old Bersicker come back by 'isself!"
He went to the door and opened it; a most unnecessary proceeding, it seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us.
After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should have of a dog. The whole scene was an unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos. The wicked wolf that for days had paralyzed London and set all the children in town shivering in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal son.
Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender solicitude, and said: "There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble; didn't I say it all along? Here's his head all cut and full of broken glass. 'E's been gettin' over some bloomin' wall or other. It's a shyme people are allowed to top their walls with broken glass. This 'ere's what comes of it. Come along, Bersicker."
Shortly after dusk of the same day on which the Harkers had dined with Professor Van Helsing at the Berkeley, a band of five men and one woman had assembled in the secluded grounds of Seward's asylum. Overhead, stark, bare branches showed in lantern light, and dead leaves crackled underfoot; summer seemed to have vanished swiftly from the land.
The spot where the six had gathered was in sight of the window of Renfield's cell, and also within sight of the stone wall, high but readily climbable, which separated the asylum's land from that belonging to the adjoining estate of Carfax. The lightless, decayed bulk of the house at Carfax was not visible by night from where they stood, but its presence loomed in the mind of every member of the band.
Harker, who had put aside his cane for this night's work, stood holding Mina's hand while Van Helsing examined the equipment the others were bringing with them. All the men were dressed for rough work and armed with axes and shovels, as well as knives and revolvers, rifles, torches, and dark lanterns, the latter devices being lamps equipped with tight-fitting shutters that allowed them to be quickly dimmed or brightened. Van Helsing himself had brought a couple of the new portable electric lights, powered by heavy and ungainly-looking batteries.
In addition their leader had provided every member of the raiding party with a necklace of garlic and a crucifix.
Holmwood had also pressed into service for the occasion three scrappy hunting terriers. These dogs whined in anticipation and tugged eagerly at their leashes, and their owner remarked dryly that he feared that in an old building like Carfax rats might be a problem.
Van Helsing, having at least glanced at every item of the party's equipment, finally nodded his approval.
Then, in a hushed voice, he gave the men their final instructions.
"He can direct the elements, the storm, the fog, the thunder. He commands the meaner things, the bat, rodent, wolf. He must rest in sacred earth of his homeland to gain his evil powers—and that earth is where we shall destroy him.
"But remember, if we fail here, it is not mere life or death. It is that we become like him, preying on the bodies and souls of those we love best."
Quincey Morris, who had at that moment finished loading his Navy Colt, snapped the heavy weapon shut with a metallic click.
Van Helsing glanced at him. "Mr. Morris, it has been demonstrated that your bullets will not harm him. He must be dismembered. I suggest you use your big knife."
Quincey looked up. "Hellfire, I wasn't plannin' on gettin' that close to him, Doc."
Van Helsing stared. Then, in a nervous reaction to prolonged strain, he began to laugh. His laughter grew, swelled into a roar. Tears came to the old man's eyes.
No one else joined in, and now it was the Texan's turn to stare. He hadn't been trying to make a joke.
Renfield, gripping the bars of his ground-floor window some yards away, was watching and listening with a concentration of maniacal intensity; his keen ears could hear enough of what was being said to catch the general meaning. None of the group took notice of him, or had so much as glanced in his direction.
Jonathan Harker had now drawn his beloved Mina a little apart from the others and was saying good-bye to her—for a little while.
In turn she murmured her love for him, and her determination to be faithful.
Harker might have wondered why the question of fidelity should have arisen now at all—but in fact he scarcely seemed to be listening. Gritting his teeth, he muttered: "I aided that fiend in coming here. And now I must send him back to hell."
On hearing that, Mina looked bleakly unhappy. Days ago her suspicions regarding the identity of her prince had become certainty. "I almost feel pity for anyone—for anything—so hunted as is this count."
Her husband shook his head. "How can you pity such a creature? I brought him here, and now I must send him back to hell. When this task is done, I shall never leave you again."
Then Harker's expression softened as he lovingly kissed his wife, and tenderly gave her into the temporary care of Dr. Seward.
At that, Seward briskly wished his colleagues good hunting, and reminded them he meant to join them as quickly as the press of business would allow. Then he, for once without the pair of sturdy keepers who were his usual escort on the grounds of the asylum, began to conduct Mina back into the building. There, on an upper floor, where Seward himself had his modest living quarters, the housekeeper had already prepared a bedroom and sitting room for her.
After pressing his wife's hand one more time, Harker turned away to join Van Helsing, Quincey Morris, and Arthur Holmwood in their grim, self-chosen task.
Renfield, observing with great excitement that Mina was about to enter the building, hastened impatiently from his cell's window to its door, where he pressed his face against the bars in an effort to catch another glimpse of her. If only she should happen to come by this corridor—
Renfield's hopes were fulfilled. Within a minute Mina Harker and Seward and the two guards were passing along a hallway within sight of Renfield's cell.
As they did so, the madman called out almost cheerily: "The Master—I smell him! He feeds on the pretty miss."
Mina, startled by an unknown voice that spoke in such clear cultured tones, stopped to stare in confusion at the speaker.
Renfield, much excited by having gained her attention, pressed himself even more frantically against the bars of his door.
He cried: "You're the bride my master covets!"
Seward did his best, short of using force, to hurry Mina along. But she resisted and he had to stop.
"Dr. Seward, who is that man?"
Her escort sighed. "That is, of course, one of my patients—Mr. Renfield. Professor Van Helsing suspects that he is linked somehow to the count."
"Renfield?" Mina was surprised. "The same man who was once Jonathan's colleague?"
"I fear so, yes."
"Then you must let me see him."
Ignoring the doctor's objections, continuing to stare at the yearning madman, she moved back a few steps closer
to the cell.
Seward, having given up trying to dissuade Mina from the confrontation, protectively came with her. "Renfield, behave yourself now. This is Mrs. Harker."
Mina was somewhat reassured by her first good look at the man inside the bars. He was, for the moment at least, quite calm and lucid. In fact he gave her a small, almost formal bow as he bade her a good evening.
"Good evening, Mr. Renfield," the young woman responded. She chose to ignore the smell and the appearance of the cell.
And now, as Renfield looked his visitor deep in the eye, his expression began to grow fearful. His voice sank almost to a whisper as he repeated: "You're the bride my master covets!"
Mina's cheeks colored. "You are mistaken. I have a husband. I am Mrs. Harker."
The imprisoned man shook his head, ever so slightly, from side to side, as if he were refusing to believe in any ordinary husband for this woman. He announced: "My master tells me about you."
"What does he tell you?"
Seward, on the verge of intervening, hovered nearby. Renfield for once ignored the doctor. To Mina he whispered: "He is coming… he is coming for you."
Then, growing more feverishly excited, he motioned his visitor closer. "But don't stay. Get away from all these men! I pray God I may never see your sweet face again."
Reaching out between the bars so calmly that Mina allowed him to take her hand, Renfield brought it gently to his lips and kissed it. "May God bless you and keep you."
Mina could think of nothing to say, but it was plain that she was deeply disturbed and fascinated.
Then suddenly Renfield erupted, gripping the bars with both hands, smashing his head against them.
He screamed out: "Master! Master! You promised me eternal life, but you give it to the woman!"
Bram Stoker's Dracula Page 15
